Oh, just one more thing ... the last entry for this trip, I promise ...
We’ve made it home to Launceston, to find trees in blossom - spring is well and truly here. After a 6 hour flight from Toronto to Los Angeles (where we saw the terrible bushfires that have destroyed dozens of homes in the LA hills), and then 15 hours to Melbourne, we had 6 hours to kill before catching the final connecting flight to Tassie, so we caught the bus into Melbourne city for a few hours.
Walking through yet another huge multicultural metropolis (we’ve walked through quite a few the past two months), it struck us that Australia really is a beautiful place, and after all we’ve recently seen in so many pockets of the world, our home country has just as much to offer as anywhere else. We may not have buildings built in the 12th century, but Melbourne is as unique and beautiful as Paris, London, Dublin or Toronto. So is Tasmania - with Cradle Mountain, Coles Bay, Mt Wellington and the Tamar Valley matching southern France, the Ring of Kerry or British Columbia. Aussies are as warm and friendly as the Irish, French and Canadians. Soccer and ice hockey is replaced by Aussie Rules footy. But, you know, we are all essentially the same.
And the Australian accent was oh so sweet to our ears after two months away. When we returned to Melbourne Airport from the city to catch the seemingly tiny plane across Bass Strait, we had to collect our bags that we’d put in storage, and we rang for someone to come and open the storeroom. The disembodied voice on the phone said “Yeah, no worries, mate. I’ll be there in two shakes.”
We knew we were home
Tuesday, 23 October 2007
Monday, 22 October 2007
Toronto, Canada
It was time to bid “farewell” to this chapter of our lives, and head for home. It has been an amazing two months. We are so grateful to everyone who has visited our travel blog. We really had no idea how it would go, but the number of people who bothered to visit did astound us. We had over 600 visits to the blog website – that’s ten visits every day for the entire two months. By the way, I was able to keep the blog updated because I took my laptop with me. I wrote a journal every few days and regularly downloaded digital pictures from the camera. The laptop may have been a pain to carry around the world, but I think it was worth the inconvenience.
Asking ourselves the question “What was the best part of the holiday?” … too hard to give just one place. Honestly, everywhere we went had something interesting to look at, lovely people to meet, fascinating history to learn and culture to experience. No one place stood out, but for us Mirepoix in the south of France was special. It was our choice for Anne’s birthday, but being able to share such a gorgeous French village with such special friends from home made Mirepoix the most memorable. (Who’s idea was that? – they’re a genius!) If you’re interested in experiencing Mirepoix for yourself, contact Suzanne and Ralph Norton at suzanne@pubtek.com.au, or 0417 595 018. Also, thanks for all the birthday good wishes and gifts from our friends on Anne’s birthday.
Our holiday was full of coincidences, incredible strokes of luck that a Travel Agent could have never organised. But then again, you make your own luck, and we think we did this by driving ourselves through France and Ireland, and British Columbia with Mike and Denise (see www.ferriswheels.com.au for their adventure safaris). Some awkward moments, getting lost, language difficulties, airline problems … it all adds to the adventure.
We will never forget the people we stayed with … Jean and Andy’s family near Toulouse; Claudine and Serge in Mirepoix; our B&B hosts Armand in St Emillion and Ros and Chris near Amiens; Stijn, Gaia and Lauran in Belgium; Vince and Niamh’s family in Cork; Aunty Rose and Aunty Annie in Northern Ireland; and of course our ever-reliable Toronto “home-away-from-home” hosts Jill and Walter. These people have been so kind to us, and opened their homes with warmth and hospitality. Hopefully, one day, we will be able to return the favour.
They say that two things broaden the mind – education and travel. We’ve had a good dose of both on this holiday. Bring on the next one….
Asking ourselves the question “What was the best part of the holiday?” … too hard to give just one place. Honestly, everywhere we went had something interesting to look at, lovely people to meet, fascinating history to learn and culture to experience. No one place stood out, but for us Mirepoix in the south of France was special. It was our choice for Anne’s birthday, but being able to share such a gorgeous French village with such special friends from home made Mirepoix the most memorable. (Who’s idea was that? – they’re a genius!) If you’re interested in experiencing Mirepoix for yourself, contact Suzanne and Ralph Norton at suzanne@pubtek.com.au, or 0417 595 018. Also, thanks for all the birthday good wishes and gifts from our friends on Anne’s birthday.
Our holiday was full of coincidences, incredible strokes of luck that a Travel Agent could have never organised. But then again, you make your own luck, and we think we did this by driving ourselves through France and Ireland, and British Columbia with Mike and Denise (see www.ferriswheels.com.au for their adventure safaris). Some awkward moments, getting lost, language difficulties, airline problems … it all adds to the adventure.
We will never forget the people we stayed with … Jean and Andy’s family near Toulouse; Claudine and Serge in Mirepoix; our B&B hosts Armand in St Emillion and Ros and Chris near Amiens; Stijn, Gaia and Lauran in Belgium; Vince and Niamh’s family in Cork; Aunty Rose and Aunty Annie in Northern Ireland; and of course our ever-reliable Toronto “home-away-from-home” hosts Jill and Walter. These people have been so kind to us, and opened their homes with warmth and hospitality. Hopefully, one day, we will be able to return the favour.
They say that two things broaden the mind – education and travel. We’ve had a good dose of both on this holiday. Bring on the next one….
Friday, 19 October 2007
Toronto, Canada
In contrast to the previous 7 weeks, we are familiar with this part of our journey, Toronto, having spent two weeks here in 2000 when we brought our children here to stay with our dear friends Jill and Walter, Steffa and Helena. Our daughter Dayna now calls this city her home, and it will be so nice to see her again and spend some time with her, and to meet her friends. We plan to relax here for this week, and catch up with Dayna, and Jill and Walter, before heading home next weekend.
Dayna picked us up at the airport, in a cheaply rented hire car, courtesy of her current employer, and we headed for Jill and Walter’s home where we would stay for the next week. On the way, however, Dayna received a call from a “damsel in distress” – her friend Madison had a flat tyre, somewhere in the city, and needed help to change it. After quite some time finding Madison in the dark – of course, she had to be down a dark alley – I found myself getting my hands dirty changing someone’s tyre. We’d only been in Toronto an hour.
The welcome we received from Jill, Walter and daughters Steffa and Helena was so wonderful, it was like coming home. Certainly the next best thing, after being 7 weeks away from home.
Day 58, 19th October – We enjoyed a very pleasant week in this lovely, huge, metropolitan city. Being able to call Jill and Walter’s house as “home” made it even more enjoyable. Dayna had some days off and has been able to take us around, and meet with some of her friends. Some of these friends are actually ex-pat Tasmanians, who have met up in Toronto. We met them at an Irish bar, and discovered that three of them had appeared in recent Uni Revues onstage, which we only saw a few months ago. I recognised them as they walked into the pub. It was such a strange coincidence.
We can see why Dayna likes living here - this is a very livable city, even though it’s one of the largest cities in the world. For us, after recently seeing London, Paris and Dublin, Toronto is a much more modern city, with glass towers that form canyons downtown as the highrise buildings reach skyward. Public transport makes it easy to get around, while the people are so friendly, and fun.
Perhaps the three defining icons for Toronto are the Rogers Centre (a huge baseball stadium with a retractable roof), the CN Tower (which gives a fantastic view of the city from one of the highest lookouts in the world) and Lake Ontario, on the shores of which the city is built. Lake Ontario is fed from Lake Erie via Niagara Falls, and is the final lake in the Great Lakes series before going out to sea. You can stand on a beach just minutes from the city and look out over an open sea. There is no land in sight to the horizon. Waves come crashing ashore like they would on any other open sea beach, but then you realise that this expanse of water is a fresh water, and even then it is the smallest (in area) of all the five Great Lakes. It’s hard to imagine just how much fresh water the whole Great Lakes system contains. Indeed, it is the world’s largest freshwater lake system. Lake Ontario is so large that it affects the weather here, just as an ocean would, for example causing Toronto snowfalls in winter.
A highlight for me was the Bruce Springsteen concert on Monday night, with Jill, Walter and their friend Mary Lou (Dayna paid for my ticket – ain’t she sweet?) while Dayna and her mum went shopping (have a guess which cost more – the concert or the shopping?). The concert was held in the Air Canada Centre, which is the main ice hockey stadium in Toronto, seating capacity about 20,000. The ice was completely covered for the show, as it is frequently for basketball as well. A great concert, too. I actually sat behind the stage, which was a tad strange but gave a unique perspective.
Dayna picked us up at the airport, in a cheaply rented hire car, courtesy of her current employer, and we headed for Jill and Walter’s home where we would stay for the next week. On the way, however, Dayna received a call from a “damsel in distress” – her friend Madison had a flat tyre, somewhere in the city, and needed help to change it. After quite some time finding Madison in the dark – of course, she had to be down a dark alley – I found myself getting my hands dirty changing someone’s tyre. We’d only been in Toronto an hour.
The welcome we received from Jill, Walter and daughters Steffa and Helena was so wonderful, it was like coming home. Certainly the next best thing, after being 7 weeks away from home.
Day 58, 19th October – We enjoyed a very pleasant week in this lovely, huge, metropolitan city. Being able to call Jill and Walter’s house as “home” made it even more enjoyable. Dayna had some days off and has been able to take us around, and meet with some of her friends. Some of these friends are actually ex-pat Tasmanians, who have met up in Toronto. We met them at an Irish bar, and discovered that three of them had appeared in recent Uni Revues onstage, which we only saw a few months ago. I recognised them as they walked into the pub. It was such a strange coincidence.
We can see why Dayna likes living here - this is a very livable city, even though it’s one of the largest cities in the world. For us, after recently seeing London, Paris and Dublin, Toronto is a much more modern city, with glass towers that form canyons downtown as the highrise buildings reach skyward. Public transport makes it easy to get around, while the people are so friendly, and fun.
Perhaps the three defining icons for Toronto are the Rogers Centre (a huge baseball stadium with a retractable roof), the CN Tower (which gives a fantastic view of the city from one of the highest lookouts in the world) and Lake Ontario, on the shores of which the city is built. Lake Ontario is fed from Lake Erie via Niagara Falls, and is the final lake in the Great Lakes series before going out to sea. You can stand on a beach just minutes from the city and look out over an open sea. There is no land in sight to the horizon. Waves come crashing ashore like they would on any other open sea beach, but then you realise that this expanse of water is a fresh water, and even then it is the smallest (in area) of all the five Great Lakes. It’s hard to imagine just how much fresh water the whole Great Lakes system contains. Indeed, it is the world’s largest freshwater lake system. Lake Ontario is so large that it affects the weather here, just as an ocean would, for example causing Toronto snowfalls in winter.
A highlight for me was the Bruce Springsteen concert on Monday night, with Jill, Walter and their friend Mary Lou (Dayna paid for my ticket – ain’t she sweet?) while Dayna and her mum went shopping (have a guess which cost more – the concert or the shopping?). The concert was held in the Air Canada Centre, which is the main ice hockey stadium in Toronto, seating capacity about 20,000. The ice was completely covered for the show, as it is frequently for basketball as well. A great concert, too. I actually sat behind the stage, which was a tad strange but gave a unique perspective.
Sunday, 14 October 2007
Toronto, Canada
I'm sitting in our friends Jill and Walter's home in Toronto on this Saturday afternoon, using their internet, and pondering over the last week of our journey to come. We left Mike and Denise in Vancouver yesterday, as they were about to head home back to Sydney. When we arrived back in Vancouver on Thursday after our "bear expedition", our luggage was waiting for us at the hotel - British Airways obviously didn't know that they'd done their job and delivered it a day after we'd left for up north. So we were mislead by their daily telephone reports of our luggage still being missing. Chalk it up to another "adventure" along the way. Along with us running out of fuel driving back into Vancouver. How lucky was it to be able to coast downhill to a gas-station? Of course, Mike took all the credit for planning it that way.
My impressions of British Columbia - I thought Tasmania had lots of wilderness and forests and mountains. They got nothin' on BC! There's not enough superlatives to describe it. With a constant backdrop of the snow-covered Rockies in the distance, the entire landscape is so beautiful. Unfortunately we didn't see Vancouver properly because of rain and mist, but the city is modern, clean and a pleasure to stay in. And (again) sitting at the foot of such spectacular mountains, the scenery has to be seen to be believed. And we've seen it. Wow!!
We are familiar with Toronto, having been here in 2000, but daughter Dayna now calls this city her home, and she obviously knows her way around it. We plan to relax here for this week, and catch up with Dayna, and Jill and Walter, before heading home next weekend.
My impressions of British Columbia - I thought Tasmania had lots of wilderness and forests and mountains. They got nothin' on BC! There's not enough superlatives to describe it. With a constant backdrop of the snow-covered Rockies in the distance, the entire landscape is so beautiful. Unfortunately we didn't see Vancouver properly because of rain and mist, but the city is modern, clean and a pleasure to stay in. And (again) sitting at the foot of such spectacular mountains, the scenery has to be seen to be believed. And we've seen it. Wow!!
We are familiar with Toronto, having been here in 2000, but daughter Dayna now calls this city her home, and she obviously knows her way around it. We plan to relax here for this week, and catch up with Dayna, and Jill and Walter, before heading home next weekend.
Thursday, 11 October 2007
Vancouver, Canada
Tuesday 9th
After getting up at 5.30 and driving 30 minutes to Telegraph Cove, we learn that the tours had been cancelled due to “hurricane force winds” later in the day. Hmmm … bad luck, so we decided to start heading south (and back to Vancouver by Thursday), and try out another “Grizzly watching tour” at Campbell River, about two hours down the road, for tomorrow. Making Campbell River and booking the tour for tomorrow, we also decided to treat ourselves with a resort for two nights. We chose a fully self-contained cabin at the water’s edge at the Tsa-Kwa-Luten resort on Quadra Island, which is a ten minute ferry ride from Vancouver Island. The strange name for the resort comes from the original inhabitants of the area, also called First Nation, who have built the resort themselves on their own land, and allow us to stay. Sitting in our loungeroom, we watch the sun set while a seal plays in the water in front of us, with Campbell River just on the other side.
Wednesday 10th
What an amazing day … we’ve seen such scenery and wildlife today that it seems that the cancelled trip yesterday was fate for us to experience today. It starts with a bald eagle sitting on the jetty just in front of our cottage as we have breakfast. As it flys away, its huge wingspan on display, it’s a taste of things to come.
With a lucky dip at the weather (a good day) and $340 per head, we set out from Quadra Island marina with Gary on his boat. There are over 70 islands in the area that separate mainland Canada from Vancouver Island (called the Discovery Islands), and so many channels and inlets give rise to many regions of turbulent water where fast-running tides meet at the confluence of two or more channels. The result is some of the fastest and most dangerous rapids in the world, on a stretch of water over a kilometer across and hundreds of meters deep. We witnessed first hand huge whirlpools many meters across, and actual drops in water level where the tides create a fall of over a meter in no distance at all. In other areas the water looks like its boiling. At either side of the channels are hills and mountains covered in trees and mossy rocks. Bald eagles are easily spotted in the trees because of their white heads, and are often sitting in pairs. The female is easy to pick, as she is the larger of the two. Before long, the high mountains have snow-covered tops, the air takes a decided chill, and you know you’re heading for some serious Canadian wilderness.
We eventually arrive at Orford Bay, which is a busy logging port with log trucks, heavy machinery and huge logs of red cedar floating in the water. The strange thing is, this place is completely inaccessible by road, it is in utter wilderness. Everything is delivered by barge. There is a twin-rotor helicopter pulling freshly cut trees out of an incredibly steep slope and dropping them into the water, where the logs are stripped and prepared for transportation by barge to the mill downstream at Campbell River. It is cheaper to use a helicopter for logging than to build roads into this mountainous terrain, and the old-growth trees here make it profitable. Gary estimated two million dollars worth of red cedar just sitting in the water at Orford Bay.
We hop on a bus and drive four kilometers up a rough muddy track. Every kilometer there is a viewing platform that overlooks the river, and at each one we wait for up to half an hour for grizzlies. And we see them, lazily walking beside the river, not a care in the world and unaware or unperturbed that they’re being watched. The closest encounter happens when a big grizzly is spotted on the other side of a small tributary to the main river, and we stand on the opposite bank as this beautiful animal slowly sits on the river bank, looking around, then strolls into the water and finds a piece of dry land mid-stream where he lies down and has a nap. We watched him for over half an hour, from no more than ten meters away. To see such a wild animal in its natural habitat, so large and famous – it was worth traveling so far to see.
The journey back to Quadra Island was more mountains, trees, cliffs, bald eagles, sea lions and rapids, but the close encounter with the Big Griz was foremost in our minds.
After getting up at 5.30 and driving 30 minutes to Telegraph Cove, we learn that the tours had been cancelled due to “hurricane force winds” later in the day. Hmmm … bad luck, so we decided to start heading south (and back to Vancouver by Thursday), and try out another “Grizzly watching tour” at Campbell River, about two hours down the road, for tomorrow. Making Campbell River and booking the tour for tomorrow, we also decided to treat ourselves with a resort for two nights. We chose a fully self-contained cabin at the water’s edge at the Tsa-Kwa-Luten resort on Quadra Island, which is a ten minute ferry ride from Vancouver Island. The strange name for the resort comes from the original inhabitants of the area, also called First Nation, who have built the resort themselves on their own land, and allow us to stay. Sitting in our loungeroom, we watch the sun set while a seal plays in the water in front of us, with Campbell River just on the other side.
Wednesday 10th
What an amazing day … we’ve seen such scenery and wildlife today that it seems that the cancelled trip yesterday was fate for us to experience today. It starts with a bald eagle sitting on the jetty just in front of our cottage as we have breakfast. As it flys away, its huge wingspan on display, it’s a taste of things to come.
With a lucky dip at the weather (a good day) and $340 per head, we set out from Quadra Island marina with Gary on his boat. There are over 70 islands in the area that separate mainland Canada from Vancouver Island (called the Discovery Islands), and so many channels and inlets give rise to many regions of turbulent water where fast-running tides meet at the confluence of two or more channels. The result is some of the fastest and most dangerous rapids in the world, on a stretch of water over a kilometer across and hundreds of meters deep. We witnessed first hand huge whirlpools many meters across, and actual drops in water level where the tides create a fall of over a meter in no distance at all. In other areas the water looks like its boiling. At either side of the channels are hills and mountains covered in trees and mossy rocks. Bald eagles are easily spotted in the trees because of their white heads, and are often sitting in pairs. The female is easy to pick, as she is the larger of the two. Before long, the high mountains have snow-covered tops, the air takes a decided chill, and you know you’re heading for some serious Canadian wilderness.
We eventually arrive at Orford Bay, which is a busy logging port with log trucks, heavy machinery and huge logs of red cedar floating in the water. The strange thing is, this place is completely inaccessible by road, it is in utter wilderness. Everything is delivered by barge. There is a twin-rotor helicopter pulling freshly cut trees out of an incredibly steep slope and dropping them into the water, where the logs are stripped and prepared for transportation by barge to the mill downstream at Campbell River. It is cheaper to use a helicopter for logging than to build roads into this mountainous terrain, and the old-growth trees here make it profitable. Gary estimated two million dollars worth of red cedar just sitting in the water at Orford Bay.
We hop on a bus and drive four kilometers up a rough muddy track. Every kilometer there is a viewing platform that overlooks the river, and at each one we wait for up to half an hour for grizzlies. And we see them, lazily walking beside the river, not a care in the world and unaware or unperturbed that they’re being watched. The closest encounter happens when a big grizzly is spotted on the other side of a small tributary to the main river, and we stand on the opposite bank as this beautiful animal slowly sits on the river bank, looking around, then strolls into the water and finds a piece of dry land mid-stream where he lies down and has a nap. We watched him for over half an hour, from no more than ten meters away. To see such a wild animal in its natural habitat, so large and famous – it was worth traveling so far to see.
The journey back to Quadra Island was more mountains, trees, cliffs, bald eagles, sea lions and rapids, but the close encounter with the Big Griz was foremost in our minds.
Wednesday, 10 October 2007
British Columbia, Canada
Friday 5th
And so we leave Ireland after 11 magic days. My impressions of the place … as I sit in Dublin airport after just having my shoes shined by a big, friendly Bulgarian guy. The Irish are fiercely patriotic, and love the colour green – it’s everywhere - the national airline Aer Lingus’ planes, the Irish rugby team shirts, their city buses, etc. We didn’t sense that patriotism in the north, however. Lots of references to Ulster (which are the six counties that make up Northern Ireland, but also include three counties in the Republic … hmmm, a bit confusing). The north is also very Scottish, and English (Union Jacks flying everywhere), but Sinn Fein offices and posters can be seen around towns. The north has BBC Radio, and Radio Ulster. The south has RTE and Irish stations. Belfast cherishes the Titanic, George Best and Van Morrison, Dublin has U2, The Corrs, Thin Lizzy, several famous writers (like George Bernard Shaw, Jonathan Swifte and Bram Stoker), Croke Park (seats over 80,000), Trinity College and Guinness. And of course Daniel O’Connell, who lead the revolution that formed the Republic.
We drank in a Dublin pub called Fagan’s, and were told that the Irish Prime Minister Bertie A’hearn drinks there regularly. He only lives up the road, it’s his local pub, and he was only there the night before. His minders sit in the corner, leaving him standing at the bar talking to the locals and drinking Guinness. I can't see John Howard or George Bush doing that. (Fagan’s is in Drumcondra Road, in Drumcondra, if you’re interested.)
We’ve just met a guy in the airport carrying an Aussie football. Turns out he was a member of the Irish Aussie Rules team, heading to Denmark to play them in a game of Aussie Rules. He was also in the team that toured Oz last year playing exhibition games, including a game at the MCG.
A tour guide told us that a very high percentage of the Irish population are under 25 years of age, and 75% go on to tertiary education. You sense that this is a country surging ahead and staking its claim in the European Union, while at the same time very conscious of its history and tradition. The Irish (or Gaelic) language is compulsory in schools, and all road signs are in both Irish and English (not so in the Northern Ireland) but only 12% of the adult population speak it. I admire them for persisting with it, and hope they succeed.
And so we leave Ireland, an hour's flight to Heathrow and 9 hours later we arrive in Vancouver, Canada. Unfortunately, our luggage didn’t. A major stuff-up by Aer Lingus in Dublin. Oh well. We left British Airways to sort it out, and they gave us $120 Canadian, and we got on with our holidays. After being met by our Sydney friends Mike and Denise at the airport, they whisked us off to an ice hockey game – the Vancouver Giants vs Chilliwack Bruins. Quite an experience – only a small crowd with just over 6,000 people – but with all the usual showbiz elements – loud rock music, big video screens showing instant replays, and as many references to the sponsors as possible. But seeing the game live shows you how fast it really is, with ten players and three referees on the ice at any one time, all traveling very fast in all directions. By the crowd reaction, this is a very popular pastime in Canada, and a perfect introduction to the country for us. We felt a world away from Ireland – which we were.
Saturday/Sunday 6/7th
Rain. Boy, did it rain today. It bucketed. Unperturbed, we set off for the north, having a look around Vancouver first, including Stanley Park. This large area is both parkland and forest, right in the middle of Vancouver city. The forest was very thick, amazingly dense. The city skyline across the river would have looked spectacular, if the rain had not created a dense mist to block it out.
Heading out of the city and suburbs, we came to Horseshoe Bay, where a ferry takes you across a large coastal inlet to the other side, so you can continue your journey north. A cheap overnight hotel at Porpoise Bay (near Sechelt) and then on the road again, heading north. The road came to an abrupt end at the water’s edge, but there happened to be a ferry to allow you to continue your journey. Soon we found ourselves driving through areas of forests, with scenery so breath-taking that it’s hard to describe. Essentially, what you’re looking at are three elements in abundance – mountains, lakes/waterways, and trees. The mountains are all around you, and the ones to the right are part of the famous Rockies. The water comes from the jagged coastline that form huge inlets and bays. The trees are everywhere. Forests and plantations of pines that stand so perpendicular that they look like silent soldiers standing at attention. Covering every mountain, and right down to the water’s edge, and the roadside. The occasional non-pine tree is starting to change colour, giving the forests a colourful range from greens to browns, reds, orange and yellow. While driving along, we were constantly on the lookout for the local wildlife – moose, caribou, bear, cougar, deer, raccoon and skunk. Quite different to an Aussie drive in the countryside.
We found accommodation in Powell River, and spent the last bit of the day exploring as far north as we could. At the very end of the road, we ended up in a tiny village called Bliss Landing, which consisted of a few houses and a small marina. All around was forest, and water. There was no denying how this place got its name. While we watched two seals at play in the bay right in front of us, a head popped up from a yacht moored at the marina to say “hello”, and we got chatting to the yacht owners, Jack and Dianne, Americans who sail their “mobile home” around the world. They had decided that they were getting too old for this lifestyle, and planned to settle down and build a house, choosing Bliss Landing for their retirement home. Couldn’t blame them in the least. Heading back, we stopped at a little fishing village called Lund for a meal in the pub. We sat there all evening, watching the sun set into the water to the west, drinking, eating, conversing with the locals, and watching the seals frolic in the bay.
Monday 8th
Another ferry – this time over to Vancouver Island. Our aim was to get to the northern most town on the island – Port Hardy. The scenery was …. well, perhaps best described a “very B.C.”. Each bend in the road gave us the view that you’d see for any picture postcard from British Columbia. Mountains, water and trees. And all three were simply magnificent. Our goal for this trip was to see some Grizzly bears (sadly whale season only recently finished, so we couldn't see them up close), and so we booked for an adventure tour over to mainland Canada to see Grizzlies up close.
Tuesday 9th
Up at 5.30 for the 30 minute drive to the Grizzly tour departure, only to find it cancelled due to a hurricane-strength storm later in the day. Oh well, the Grizzly is proving elusive for us. So we're sitting in a Subway with wireless internet available, having breakfast and disappointed about the Grizzly tour no-show. And it's pouring rain. And still no luggage. Life sure does happen to you while you're busy making other plans.
And so we leave Ireland after 11 magic days. My impressions of the place … as I sit in Dublin airport after just having my shoes shined by a big, friendly Bulgarian guy. The Irish are fiercely patriotic, and love the colour green – it’s everywhere - the national airline Aer Lingus’ planes, the Irish rugby team shirts, their city buses, etc. We didn’t sense that patriotism in the north, however. Lots of references to Ulster (which are the six counties that make up Northern Ireland, but also include three counties in the Republic … hmmm, a bit confusing). The north is also very Scottish, and English (Union Jacks flying everywhere), but Sinn Fein offices and posters can be seen around towns. The north has BBC Radio, and Radio Ulster. The south has RTE and Irish stations. Belfast cherishes the Titanic, George Best and Van Morrison, Dublin has U2, The Corrs, Thin Lizzy, several famous writers (like George Bernard Shaw, Jonathan Swifte and Bram Stoker), Croke Park (seats over 80,000), Trinity College and Guinness. And of course Daniel O’Connell, who lead the revolution that formed the Republic.
We drank in a Dublin pub called Fagan’s, and were told that the Irish Prime Minister Bertie A’hearn drinks there regularly. He only lives up the road, it’s his local pub, and he was only there the night before. His minders sit in the corner, leaving him standing at the bar talking to the locals and drinking Guinness. I can't see John Howard or George Bush doing that. (Fagan’s is in Drumcondra Road, in Drumcondra, if you’re interested.)
We’ve just met a guy in the airport carrying an Aussie football. Turns out he was a member of the Irish Aussie Rules team, heading to Denmark to play them in a game of Aussie Rules. He was also in the team that toured Oz last year playing exhibition games, including a game at the MCG.
A tour guide told us that a very high percentage of the Irish population are under 25 years of age, and 75% go on to tertiary education. You sense that this is a country surging ahead and staking its claim in the European Union, while at the same time very conscious of its history and tradition. The Irish (or Gaelic) language is compulsory in schools, and all road signs are in both Irish and English (not so in the Northern Ireland) but only 12% of the adult population speak it. I admire them for persisting with it, and hope they succeed.
And so we leave Ireland, an hour's flight to Heathrow and 9 hours later we arrive in Vancouver, Canada. Unfortunately, our luggage didn’t. A major stuff-up by Aer Lingus in Dublin. Oh well. We left British Airways to sort it out, and they gave us $120 Canadian, and we got on with our holidays. After being met by our Sydney friends Mike and Denise at the airport, they whisked us off to an ice hockey game – the Vancouver Giants vs Chilliwack Bruins. Quite an experience – only a small crowd with just over 6,000 people – but with all the usual showbiz elements – loud rock music, big video screens showing instant replays, and as many references to the sponsors as possible. But seeing the game live shows you how fast it really is, with ten players and three referees on the ice at any one time, all traveling very fast in all directions. By the crowd reaction, this is a very popular pastime in Canada, and a perfect introduction to the country for us. We felt a world away from Ireland – which we were.
Saturday/Sunday 6/7th
Rain. Boy, did it rain today. It bucketed. Unperturbed, we set off for the north, having a look around Vancouver first, including Stanley Park. This large area is both parkland and forest, right in the middle of Vancouver city. The forest was very thick, amazingly dense. The city skyline across the river would have looked spectacular, if the rain had not created a dense mist to block it out.
Heading out of the city and suburbs, we came to Horseshoe Bay, where a ferry takes you across a large coastal inlet to the other side, so you can continue your journey north. A cheap overnight hotel at Porpoise Bay (near Sechelt) and then on the road again, heading north. The road came to an abrupt end at the water’s edge, but there happened to be a ferry to allow you to continue your journey. Soon we found ourselves driving through areas of forests, with scenery so breath-taking that it’s hard to describe. Essentially, what you’re looking at are three elements in abundance – mountains, lakes/waterways, and trees. The mountains are all around you, and the ones to the right are part of the famous Rockies. The water comes from the jagged coastline that form huge inlets and bays. The trees are everywhere. Forests and plantations of pines that stand so perpendicular that they look like silent soldiers standing at attention. Covering every mountain, and right down to the water’s edge, and the roadside. The occasional non-pine tree is starting to change colour, giving the forests a colourful range from greens to browns, reds, orange and yellow. While driving along, we were constantly on the lookout for the local wildlife – moose, caribou, bear, cougar, deer, raccoon and skunk. Quite different to an Aussie drive in the countryside.
We found accommodation in Powell River, and spent the last bit of the day exploring as far north as we could. At the very end of the road, we ended up in a tiny village called Bliss Landing, which consisted of a few houses and a small marina. All around was forest, and water. There was no denying how this place got its name. While we watched two seals at play in the bay right in front of us, a head popped up from a yacht moored at the marina to say “hello”, and we got chatting to the yacht owners, Jack and Dianne, Americans who sail their “mobile home” around the world. They had decided that they were getting too old for this lifestyle, and planned to settle down and build a house, choosing Bliss Landing for their retirement home. Couldn’t blame them in the least. Heading back, we stopped at a little fishing village called Lund for a meal in the pub. We sat there all evening, watching the sun set into the water to the west, drinking, eating, conversing with the locals, and watching the seals frolic in the bay.
Monday 8th
Another ferry – this time over to Vancouver Island. Our aim was to get to the northern most town on the island – Port Hardy. The scenery was …. well, perhaps best described a “very B.C.”. Each bend in the road gave us the view that you’d see for any picture postcard from British Columbia. Mountains, water and trees. And all three were simply magnificent. Our goal for this trip was to see some Grizzly bears (sadly whale season only recently finished, so we couldn't see them up close), and so we booked for an adventure tour over to mainland Canada to see Grizzlies up close.
Tuesday 9th
Up at 5.30 for the 30 minute drive to the Grizzly tour departure, only to find it cancelled due to a hurricane-strength storm later in the day. Oh well, the Grizzly is proving elusive for us. So we're sitting in a Subway with wireless internet available, having breakfast and disappointed about the Grizzly tour no-show. And it's pouring rain. And still no luggage. Life sure does happen to you while you're busy making other plans.
Thursday, 4 October 2007
Cork, Ireland
Oh dear, it's been a while since we've had a place where we could update the blog, but we've got a spare hour in Dublin, so here is the entire Irish leg ... so far.
Monday/Tuesday 24, 25th
A short flight to Dublin on Aer Lingus, paying 80 euro in excess baggage, found us in Ireland, armed with a hire car and GPS. We headed south to Cork, and our first Irish hosts, Vince and Niamh (I met Vince a couple of years ago through my work).
We immediately noticed the countryside was very green, in fact spectacularly green. Quite incredibly green. And today we only had our second day of rain – which is pretty good after a month on the road.
The next day, we explored Cork, and first up was Blarney Castle. A gorgeous old castle, some of it ruins but enough intact to climb to the top, and the option of kissing this dam stone. Anne did – sort of, it’s not that easy to reach. The castle and grounds were quite beautiful, but perhaps spoilt by the hundreds and hundreds of tourists – mostly American (but there were at least two Aussies!!). Then on to Midleton, and the Jameson Whiskey Distillery. How whiskey is made is a fascinating story (specially Irish whiskey), and it became evident that there is a distinct rivalry between the Irish and Scots for who makes the best whiskey. Irish is triple-distilled, Scotch is only double, and we're told that it was the Irish who taught the Scots how to make whiskey in the first place, many centuries ago. Here we also saw the largest copper still in the world, built over a century ago and ceased operation in 1970. A huge, empty copper vessel.
Wednesday 26th
After advice from Vince and Niamh, we decided to see southwest Ireland on an overnighter, so we packed an overnight bag and headed for the Dingle Peninsula. Before long the scenery changed from densely overgrown forests or cultivated farmland, to vast open plains of obviously poorer soil that form the foothills to some spectacular mountains. These mountains are the highest in Ireland, rising over a kilometer in the air, and are totally nude of trees, while the foothills are dotted with farmhouses and chequered with paddocks separated by stone fences. Most of the buildings were also made of stone, as are bridges, barns, retaining walls, churches … in fact, stone is a dominate feature throughout Ireland. It is everywhere. You can see these rocks embedded in the ground, and there is no shortage of them. The coastline consists of either sandy beaches or sheer rocky cliffs (reminded us of Tasman Peninsula and Eaglehawk Neck).
The township of Dingle is a gorgeous place, centered around its fishing port. Very touristy, with many merchandise shops selling Aran wool garments (this is a large island off the coast that grows very thick wool, because it’s so cold, I guess), and all the other Irish garb. Lots of pubs and bars. What struck us was the colourful rows of terraced houses along the narrow streets, very pretty. The movie “Ryan’s Daughter” was filmed in the Dingle area.
Thursday 27th
After an overnight B&B in Killarney (and an Irish stew in a traditional Irish pub, entertained by some live traditional music), we decided to spend 25 Euro each and take a 6 hour bus trip around the Ring of Kerry (with lots of stops). It was nice not to drive for a day, and the bus gave great views from high up, and most importantly, we avoided driving on some VERY narrow roads. Have no idea how the bus driver did it, but he did.
The Ring of Kerry is a circuit around a peninsula, across the bay from Dingle, that offers scenery that we have never seen the likes of before. Mountain ranges that fall into the sea, absolute blue waters leading out to the Atlantic Ocean, and incredible views from high vantage points. Every bend in the road presented a new panorama. The Tom Cruise movie “Far and Away” was filmed around here, as well as in Dublin.
We saw locals harvesting peat from permanently wet bogs and putting it into storage for fuel over winter. We saw a sheep farmer at work, with two Border Collies who followed his every command in rounding up his flock. The Americans in the group were amazed at the training of these dogs – we Aussies just nodded in full knowledge that Australian sheepdogs are just as clever. An interesting thing we learned is that sheep have no predator in Ireland (the only danger are foxes who take young lambs) so farmers let their sheep roam all over these hills and mountains at will, and then use their dogs to round them up over long distances.
Nearly every building and front yard in this area (which is in County Kerry) was flying green and yellow flags. We learn that these are the colours of County Kerry football team, who won the Ireland County final in Gaelic football two weeks prior, beating Cork to win the title for the 2nd year in a row. Obvious bragging rights for another year.
Friday 28th
We farewelled our friends Vince and Niamh (who have looked after us so well – we hope to repay the favour one day) and left Cork to drive north-west to Limerick and eventually Galway for the night. The country roads are so different to home, with fences made of stones. That is, every fence, going on for miles. And the moss, lichen and ivy growing over them indicates how old they must be. Speaking to locals, we learn that the fence stones surrounding each paddock most likely come from the paddock itself, when the farmer ploughed the field to ready it for cultivation. Goes to show that Ireland is a very rocky place.
Wonderful Galway – a town that immediately captivated us. Plenty of pubs and bars, with traditional Irish music emanating from every one. Music is obviously a driving force here – there are as many shops selling CDs and instruments as there are pubs.
Saturday 29th
Galway to Donegal. More farmland, stone fences, and sheep. A Magic Moment … driving out of Galway, listening to the local radio station and they play Eric Bogle’s classic song “And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda”.
Donegal was a delightful little town, again driven by music. We did a bit of a pub crawl here – a pre-dinner Guiness and cider in pub number one, dinner of Irish stew in number two, and after-dinner Guiness/cider in pub number three. Here we met a local guy called Garry, a builder and regular in this pub. He was building a house up in the hills, and was fighting with the local council over a building permit. The problem was that the water table was so high that the septic tank would not naturally flow out. High water tables in Ireland is not surprising, given the rain they obviously get.
Sunday 30th
Donegal into Northern Ireland, and today we witnessed first-hand the rain that gives Ireland its greenness. It poured and poured. But we don’t complain, as this is our second wet day in over a month of travels. We visited Donegal Castle, built in 15th Century. Quite small by what we’d recently seen, but still quite extraordinary.
We journeyed east and crossed the border at a town called Strabane (albeit unannounced – not a notice anywhere that we were leaving Ireland), and immediately noticed speed limits in miles per hour, and prices in pounds/pence. We found our home for next few days – Aunty Rose’s place near Ballymoney in the north of Northern Ireland.
Monday 1st October
Only half hour’s drive from Aunty Rose’s place is one of the most famous and incredible geological features in the world. The Giant’s Causeway was created by a lava flow 60 million years ago that solidified and then cracked in certain directions to create hexagonal columns, that were then pushed up by earth movements into steps that jut out into the Atlantic Ocean. Quite amazing to see. The coastline is incredible as well – sheer cliffs that fall into the sea from flat green pasture above. Further along the coast is an island connected to the mainland by a rope bridge, and if you’re brave enough, you can walk across it to the island. We have photographic evidence that we were brave enough, high above the raging sea below.
You can drive right along this north coast (the Causeway Coast) with superb views out to sea. Portrush and Portstewart are just two towns nestled on the coast that attract a lot of people to live there, for obvious reasons – the scenery is beautiful.
Tuesday 2nd
A day spent in Belfast. We did a bus tour of the city, which took us to such places as Stormont – the political headquarters of Northern Ireland and a beautiful palatial building sitting in hundreds of acres of gardens and manicured lawns. We drove past Belfast’s local airport (not its international terminal) which they have recently renamed after their most famous son, and perhaps the most famous English footballer born in Ireland – George Best. In fact, they help his funeral at Stormont, and more than 100,000 people turned up. We drove past the Belfast dockyards that are today virtually empty, with large areas of vacant land, weeds and concrete. But early last century 30,000 people worked there, building ships, and the most famous of all was the Titanic. Today, the slipway where the Titanic was built is covered in weeds, but the city is making a concerted effort to re-develop the docks area, and will have it full of hotels, restaurants and museums by 2012, to commemorate the hundredth anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. Two huge yellow cranes in the dockyards dominate the skyline, you can see them all over the city.
We saw evidence of this being the birthplace of the Titanic all over the city – they obviously take much pride in building it. They say that it had an English captain, a Scottish engineer and it hit a Canadian iceberg, so they take no responsibility in its sinking.
We also drove through the troubled spots in Belfast, and drove across many lines that have Protestants on one side, Catholics on the other. While we did not see any direct evidence of the troubles, we saw many consequences. Buildings surrounded by ten-foot high explosion-proof fences, cameras on every traffic intersection, fences running through housing divisions with gates that are opened and closed at curfew times. I think we ended up feeling pity for Belfast – a city with many lovely buildings, fascinating history and friendly people, but unfortunately tainted by recent history since the 1960s. What we found encouraging is that school children are now going to integrated schools – Protestants and Catholics together, and more and more people from both sides are living and working together. The hope is that the problems will be solved within a generation, as this generation grows to accept each other’s ideals.
Wednesday/Thursday, 3/4th
We sadly said goodbye to our friends in Northern Ireland - such warm and wonderful hosts - headed south, back into Irealnd and to Dublin.
Monday/Tuesday 24, 25th
A short flight to Dublin on Aer Lingus, paying 80 euro in excess baggage, found us in Ireland, armed with a hire car and GPS. We headed south to Cork, and our first Irish hosts, Vince and Niamh (I met Vince a couple of years ago through my work).
We immediately noticed the countryside was very green, in fact spectacularly green. Quite incredibly green. And today we only had our second day of rain – which is pretty good after a month on the road.
The next day, we explored Cork, and first up was Blarney Castle. A gorgeous old castle, some of it ruins but enough intact to climb to the top, and the option of kissing this dam stone. Anne did – sort of, it’s not that easy to reach. The castle and grounds were quite beautiful, but perhaps spoilt by the hundreds and hundreds of tourists – mostly American (but there were at least two Aussies!!). Then on to Midleton, and the Jameson Whiskey Distillery. How whiskey is made is a fascinating story (specially Irish whiskey), and it became evident that there is a distinct rivalry between the Irish and Scots for who makes the best whiskey. Irish is triple-distilled, Scotch is only double, and we're told that it was the Irish who taught the Scots how to make whiskey in the first place, many centuries ago. Here we also saw the largest copper still in the world, built over a century ago and ceased operation in 1970. A huge, empty copper vessel.
Wednesday 26th
After advice from Vince and Niamh, we decided to see southwest Ireland on an overnighter, so we packed an overnight bag and headed for the Dingle Peninsula. Before long the scenery changed from densely overgrown forests or cultivated farmland, to vast open plains of obviously poorer soil that form the foothills to some spectacular mountains. These mountains are the highest in Ireland, rising over a kilometer in the air, and are totally nude of trees, while the foothills are dotted with farmhouses and chequered with paddocks separated by stone fences. Most of the buildings were also made of stone, as are bridges, barns, retaining walls, churches … in fact, stone is a dominate feature throughout Ireland. It is everywhere. You can see these rocks embedded in the ground, and there is no shortage of them. The coastline consists of either sandy beaches or sheer rocky cliffs (reminded us of Tasman Peninsula and Eaglehawk Neck).
The township of Dingle is a gorgeous place, centered around its fishing port. Very touristy, with many merchandise shops selling Aran wool garments (this is a large island off the coast that grows very thick wool, because it’s so cold, I guess), and all the other Irish garb. Lots of pubs and bars. What struck us was the colourful rows of terraced houses along the narrow streets, very pretty. The movie “Ryan’s Daughter” was filmed in the Dingle area.
Thursday 27th
After an overnight B&B in Killarney (and an Irish stew in a traditional Irish pub, entertained by some live traditional music), we decided to spend 25 Euro each and take a 6 hour bus trip around the Ring of Kerry (with lots of stops). It was nice not to drive for a day, and the bus gave great views from high up, and most importantly, we avoided driving on some VERY narrow roads. Have no idea how the bus driver did it, but he did.
The Ring of Kerry is a circuit around a peninsula, across the bay from Dingle, that offers scenery that we have never seen the likes of before. Mountain ranges that fall into the sea, absolute blue waters leading out to the Atlantic Ocean, and incredible views from high vantage points. Every bend in the road presented a new panorama. The Tom Cruise movie “Far and Away” was filmed around here, as well as in Dublin.
We saw locals harvesting peat from permanently wet bogs and putting it into storage for fuel over winter. We saw a sheep farmer at work, with two Border Collies who followed his every command in rounding up his flock. The Americans in the group were amazed at the training of these dogs – we Aussies just nodded in full knowledge that Australian sheepdogs are just as clever. An interesting thing we learned is that sheep have no predator in Ireland (the only danger are foxes who take young lambs) so farmers let their sheep roam all over these hills and mountains at will, and then use their dogs to round them up over long distances.
Nearly every building and front yard in this area (which is in County Kerry) was flying green and yellow flags. We learn that these are the colours of County Kerry football team, who won the Ireland County final in Gaelic football two weeks prior, beating Cork to win the title for the 2nd year in a row. Obvious bragging rights for another year.
Friday 28th
We farewelled our friends Vince and Niamh (who have looked after us so well – we hope to repay the favour one day) and left Cork to drive north-west to Limerick and eventually Galway for the night. The country roads are so different to home, with fences made of stones. That is, every fence, going on for miles. And the moss, lichen and ivy growing over them indicates how old they must be. Speaking to locals, we learn that the fence stones surrounding each paddock most likely come from the paddock itself, when the farmer ploughed the field to ready it for cultivation. Goes to show that Ireland is a very rocky place.
Wonderful Galway – a town that immediately captivated us. Plenty of pubs and bars, with traditional Irish music emanating from every one. Music is obviously a driving force here – there are as many shops selling CDs and instruments as there are pubs.
Saturday 29th
Galway to Donegal. More farmland, stone fences, and sheep. A Magic Moment … driving out of Galway, listening to the local radio station and they play Eric Bogle’s classic song “And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda”.
Donegal was a delightful little town, again driven by music. We did a bit of a pub crawl here – a pre-dinner Guiness and cider in pub number one, dinner of Irish stew in number two, and after-dinner Guiness/cider in pub number three. Here we met a local guy called Garry, a builder and regular in this pub. He was building a house up in the hills, and was fighting with the local council over a building permit. The problem was that the water table was so high that the septic tank would not naturally flow out. High water tables in Ireland is not surprising, given the rain they obviously get.
Sunday 30th
Donegal into Northern Ireland, and today we witnessed first-hand the rain that gives Ireland its greenness. It poured and poured. But we don’t complain, as this is our second wet day in over a month of travels. We visited Donegal Castle, built in 15th Century. Quite small by what we’d recently seen, but still quite extraordinary.
We journeyed east and crossed the border at a town called Strabane (albeit unannounced – not a notice anywhere that we were leaving Ireland), and immediately noticed speed limits in miles per hour, and prices in pounds/pence. We found our home for next few days – Aunty Rose’s place near Ballymoney in the north of Northern Ireland.
Monday 1st October
Only half hour’s drive from Aunty Rose’s place is one of the most famous and incredible geological features in the world. The Giant’s Causeway was created by a lava flow 60 million years ago that solidified and then cracked in certain directions to create hexagonal columns, that were then pushed up by earth movements into steps that jut out into the Atlantic Ocean. Quite amazing to see. The coastline is incredible as well – sheer cliffs that fall into the sea from flat green pasture above. Further along the coast is an island connected to the mainland by a rope bridge, and if you’re brave enough, you can walk across it to the island. We have photographic evidence that we were brave enough, high above the raging sea below.
You can drive right along this north coast (the Causeway Coast) with superb views out to sea. Portrush and Portstewart are just two towns nestled on the coast that attract a lot of people to live there, for obvious reasons – the scenery is beautiful.
Tuesday 2nd
A day spent in Belfast. We did a bus tour of the city, which took us to such places as Stormont – the political headquarters of Northern Ireland and a beautiful palatial building sitting in hundreds of acres of gardens and manicured lawns. We drove past Belfast’s local airport (not its international terminal) which they have recently renamed after their most famous son, and perhaps the most famous English footballer born in Ireland – George Best. In fact, they help his funeral at Stormont, and more than 100,000 people turned up. We drove past the Belfast dockyards that are today virtually empty, with large areas of vacant land, weeds and concrete. But early last century 30,000 people worked there, building ships, and the most famous of all was the Titanic. Today, the slipway where the Titanic was built is covered in weeds, but the city is making a concerted effort to re-develop the docks area, and will have it full of hotels, restaurants and museums by 2012, to commemorate the hundredth anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. Two huge yellow cranes in the dockyards dominate the skyline, you can see them all over the city.
We saw evidence of this being the birthplace of the Titanic all over the city – they obviously take much pride in building it. They say that it had an English captain, a Scottish engineer and it hit a Canadian iceberg, so they take no responsibility in its sinking.
We also drove through the troubled spots in Belfast, and drove across many lines that have Protestants on one side, Catholics on the other. While we did not see any direct evidence of the troubles, we saw many consequences. Buildings surrounded by ten-foot high explosion-proof fences, cameras on every traffic intersection, fences running through housing divisions with gates that are opened and closed at curfew times. I think we ended up feeling pity for Belfast – a city with many lovely buildings, fascinating history and friendly people, but unfortunately tainted by recent history since the 1960s. What we found encouraging is that school children are now going to integrated schools – Protestants and Catholics together, and more and more people from both sides are living and working together. The hope is that the problems will be solved within a generation, as this generation grows to accept each other’s ideals.
Wednesday/Thursday, 3/4th
We sadly said goodbye to our friends in Northern Ireland - such warm and wonderful hosts - headed south, back into Irealnd and to Dublin.
Monday, 24 September 2007
Cork, Ireland
Sunday 23rd
In the morning, a short train ride under the Seine to an area called L’Alma, and the street Rue de New York that runs next to the Seine. This street runs under a busy intersection, and it was in this tunnel that Diana lost her life in 1997. The tunnel entrance, by complete coincidence, is marked by a large golden replica of the flame from New York’s Statue of Liberty, placed there in 1987 by a group of U.S. businesses who were based in Paris, to “strengthen US-French relations”. It’s a strangely solemn place because there is no official commemoration to Diana’s death here, but there were many flowers, cards, candles and graffiti left by people.
For the afternoon, we headed to Café-Oz, to watch Australia play Fiji on the big screen (actually in Montpelier). A pub-full of Australians, drinking Fosters – just like being home. The game was very one-sided (Australia won easy) so we ended up sitting outside talking to a young Melbourne couple. Fiona was a nurse, so Anne had a kindred partner. Adam was a copper, and Collingwood supporter, so the blokes had some things to talk about. We were soon joined by Matty, eating his pizza (and drunk). When we found out that Matty was a policeman too, I really felt “out of it”. Our final night in Paris, and France, was a blinder.
My final impressions of France … the people are warm, generous, and friendly, Despite any language differences, we found nearly everyone we met to be helpful. Some things that we did find strange were that dogs are allowed into restaurants and trains, and the smoking is still allowed in restaurants – this spoiled some quite delicious meals at times. The large numbers of beggars on the streets, and street people who seem quite at home sleeping under cardboard on park benches. The majority of young people dress very smartly, quite eloquent, fashionable and sophisticated. Many of them also smoke. The huge number of cafes, bars, restaurants, bistros, pubs - all with sidewalk dining. You can never go hungry in France, as long as you have a pocketful of Euros. Getting around was easy – Paris underground was great, and good roadsigns usually made driving through France straightforward. We have thoroughly enjoyed our three weeks in this fabulous country.
Monday/Tuesday 24, 25th
A short flight to Dublin on Aer Lingus, paying 80 euro in excess baggage, found us in Ireland, armed with a hire car and GPS. We headed south to Cork, and our first Irish hosts, Vince and Niamh Smith (I met Vince a couple of years ago through my work).
We immediately noticed the countryside was very green, in fact spectacularly green. Quite incredibly green. And today we only had our second day of rain – which is pretty good after a month on the road.
The next day, we explored Cork, and first up was Blarney Castle. A gorgeous old castle, some of it ruins but enough intact to climb to the top, and the option of kissing this dam stone. Anne did – sort of, it’s not that easy to reach. The castle and grounds were quite beautiful, but perhaps spoilt by the hundreds and hundreds of tourists – mostly American (but there were at least two Aussies!!). Then on to Midleton, and the Jameson Whiskey Distillery. How whiskey is made is a fascinating story (specially Irish whiskey), and it became evident that there is a distinct rivalry between the Irish and Scots for who makes the best whiskey. Irish is triple-distilled, Scotch is only double, and it was the Irish who taught the Scots how to make whiskey in the first place, many centuries ago. Here we also saw the largest copper still in the world, built over a century ago and ceased operation in 1970. A huge, empty copper vessel.
In the morning, a short train ride under the Seine to an area called L’Alma, and the street Rue de New York that runs next to the Seine. This street runs under a busy intersection, and it was in this tunnel that Diana lost her life in 1997. The tunnel entrance, by complete coincidence, is marked by a large golden replica of the flame from New York’s Statue of Liberty, placed there in 1987 by a group of U.S. businesses who were based in Paris, to “strengthen US-French relations”. It’s a strangely solemn place because there is no official commemoration to Diana’s death here, but there were many flowers, cards, candles and graffiti left by people.
For the afternoon, we headed to Café-Oz, to watch Australia play Fiji on the big screen (actually in Montpelier). A pub-full of Australians, drinking Fosters – just like being home. The game was very one-sided (Australia won easy) so we ended up sitting outside talking to a young Melbourne couple. Fiona was a nurse, so Anne had a kindred partner. Adam was a copper, and Collingwood supporter, so the blokes had some things to talk about. We were soon joined by Matty, eating his pizza (and drunk). When we found out that Matty was a policeman too, I really felt “out of it”. Our final night in Paris, and France, was a blinder.
My final impressions of France … the people are warm, generous, and friendly, Despite any language differences, we found nearly everyone we met to be helpful. Some things that we did find strange were that dogs are allowed into restaurants and trains, and the smoking is still allowed in restaurants – this spoiled some quite delicious meals at times. The large numbers of beggars on the streets, and street people who seem quite at home sleeping under cardboard on park benches. The majority of young people dress very smartly, quite eloquent, fashionable and sophisticated. Many of them also smoke. The huge number of cafes, bars, restaurants, bistros, pubs - all with sidewalk dining. You can never go hungry in France, as long as you have a pocketful of Euros. Getting around was easy – Paris underground was great, and good roadsigns usually made driving through France straightforward. We have thoroughly enjoyed our three weeks in this fabulous country.
Monday/Tuesday 24, 25th
A short flight to Dublin on Aer Lingus, paying 80 euro in excess baggage, found us in Ireland, armed with a hire car and GPS. We headed south to Cork, and our first Irish hosts, Vince and Niamh Smith (I met Vince a couple of years ago through my work).
We immediately noticed the countryside was very green, in fact spectacularly green. Quite incredibly green. And today we only had our second day of rain – which is pretty good after a month on the road.
The next day, we explored Cork, and first up was Blarney Castle. A gorgeous old castle, some of it ruins but enough intact to climb to the top, and the option of kissing this dam stone. Anne did – sort of, it’s not that easy to reach. The castle and grounds were quite beautiful, but perhaps spoilt by the hundreds and hundreds of tourists – mostly American (but there were at least two Aussies!!). Then on to Midleton, and the Jameson Whiskey Distillery. How whiskey is made is a fascinating story (specially Irish whiskey), and it became evident that there is a distinct rivalry between the Irish and Scots for who makes the best whiskey. Irish is triple-distilled, Scotch is only double, and it was the Irish who taught the Scots how to make whiskey in the first place, many centuries ago. Here we also saw the largest copper still in the world, built over a century ago and ceased operation in 1970. A huge, empty copper vessel.
Saturday, 22 September 2007
Paris, France
Thursday 20th
After a couple of days in Paris, we can now find our way around this fabulous city. The two public train systems (the inner city “Metro” and suburban “RER”) is easy to use for access to all parts of Paris. We can, however, walked to many historic sites, as our hotel is in a great central location at Les Halles. Paris contains much of what we have become used to in France – narrow streets, ornate arched bridges, church spires above the roof tops, baggettes (what we’d call a French Stick), patisseries, cafes on the sidewalk. But the Eiffel Tower dominates the skyline – it’s visible from everywhere, and you know you’re in Paris. I wonder if there was enough stone in the world to build Paris – every building, every bridge, hundreds of statues, are all made of stone.
Notre Dame – the cathedral made famous by a hunchbacked bellringer, was fantastic, and must consume half the stone in Paris. I must say, however, that after three weeks in France, we might have become a little accustomed to such buildings. After all, every French village has a church at its centre, and every one has some historic beauty and significance. Major cities have several of them. Notre Dame is enormous, almost as if walking through its doors was not “going inside”, because it’s so big, the ceiling reaches the sky. No photo could do it justice.
The Louvre is huge, the largest museum in the world – too big to even contemplate a visit, specially considering the queue at the entrance door (the glass pyramid featured in The Da Vinci Code – didn’t see Tom Hanks though). Lonely Planet says you’d need 9 months to see everything in the Louvre. Lenny’s Mona Lisa had to be given a miss this time.
(By the way, many of my facts and figures have come from Lonely Planet’s “France”. LP is indeed the hitch-hikers guide to the galaxy – I believe it inspired Douglas Adams to write his famous books)
Thursday night was a special triple-treat, booked and paid for back in February. Dinner on the first level of the Eiffel Tower, followed by a cruise down the Seine to see Paris by night, and finally the midnight show at Moulin Rouge.. The meal in the restaurant was very nice, the view was superb, and it was only the first level. The lights of Paris when seen from the river is special – a completely different perspective. Moulin Rouge was an absolute squeeze – they sit you at a tiny table, with the tables all around you so close that you hardly have room to breath. A tip – go the loo before you enter. The show was incredible, with all the theatre elements amazingly done – lighting, colourful sets, moving stages, athletic dancing, music and singing (although it sounded pre-recorded to me – almost too good). A comedian, juggler, ventriloquist and two acrobats complimented the dancers. Were there bare breasts on the ladies? I don’t recall.
Friday 21st
First up, the Arc de Triomphe, located at the confluence of 12 busy Paris streets, making it one of the worlds largest, and busiest roundabouts. We’re told that if you want to drive a hire car in Paris, they will not offer you insurance if you want to negotiate the Arc de Triomphe. Built by Napolean and completed in 1836, it is (guess what??) huge, towering above you as you stand underneath. Beneath the arch is France’s Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, with an eternal flame, burning since 1921. A fantastic view from the top, where you see that Paris is essentially flat except for a small hill in the suburb of Montmarte, on top which sits the Sacre Coeur, a Catholic basilica built in the late 1800s.
In another direction, in the distance we could see a concentration of skyscrapers, which were the only tall buildings on the skyline (other than the Tower). And in the middle was what looked like a white square arch. We hopped on the train to explore. La Defense is the modern business district of Paris, deliberately located away from historic Paris. Started in the late 1950s, it is an ultra-modern city, with glass skyscrapers and large open walking spaces. Not a car or road to be seen, and is in complete contrast to the rest of Paris. It’s dominated, however, by the Grande Arch, made out of marble and glass. It is 110 meters along each side, forming a huge cubic arched building with a window looking toward the Arc de Triomphe and the Louvre’s Glass Pyramid, quite a few kilometers away. Built in 1989 to commemorate 200 years since the French Revolution, it actually contains offices on both sides of the Arch. An amazing thing.
Saturday 22 September
Up early to beat the crowds at the Eiffel Tower. It opens at 9.30, and before opening, the crowds must have numbered thousands. An enduring image, while waiting in line, was the sight of three soldiers walking amongst the crowds, armed with machine guns, no less. Security is rife in Paris – we were body searched when entering the rugby, and all rubbish bins in Paris are simply clear plastic bags hanging from a ring, so its contents can be seen.
The Eiffel Tower is imposing, all 324 metres and 2.5 million rivets of it. Built for the 1889 World Fair to commemorate 100 years since the French Revolution, it was only ever supposed to be a temporary structure – about 20 years. It was kept to mount radio aerials on the top – now it’s hard to imagine Paris without it. It’s obviously the major Paris tourist attraction – thousands and thousands of people were there. We had breakfast in the Eiffel Tower.
We then caught the same RER train further up the road to Versaille, and its famous palace. Built by King Louis the 14th in the late 16th century as a means to glorify himself in the eyes of his people, this place can be described in various ways – grand, immense, magnificent, opulent, royal, beautiful, and ultimately over-the-top. And the gardens are ten times more than that. This Louis guy was certainly full of himself and his own importance, and the other kings that came after followed suit, and it’s no wonder that the French people revolted against this opulence to overthrow the king in 1789. We walked through the very bedroom where Queen Marie Antoinette was sleeping when the peasants stormed the palace, and she escaped through a side door with seconds to spare. We walked through the room where the Treaty of Versaille was signed to end the First World War. Its easy to see why this place is listed as World Heritage – rooms gilded in gold, masterpieces painted on every ceiling, money was no object when they built this. The gardens are a huge man-made park, with dozens of fountains, and we’re talking about each fountain shooting huge volumes of water into the air. Manicured lawns, shaped hedges, 200,000 trees over 800 hectacres, while the palace covers 11 hectacres, contains 2,153 windows, 700 rooms and 67 staircases. It was all a bit overwhelming, really.
After a couple of days in Paris, we can now find our way around this fabulous city. The two public train systems (the inner city “Metro” and suburban “RER”) is easy to use for access to all parts of Paris. We can, however, walked to many historic sites, as our hotel is in a great central location at Les Halles. Paris contains much of what we have become used to in France – narrow streets, ornate arched bridges, church spires above the roof tops, baggettes (what we’d call a French Stick), patisseries, cafes on the sidewalk. But the Eiffel Tower dominates the skyline – it’s visible from everywhere, and you know you’re in Paris. I wonder if there was enough stone in the world to build Paris – every building, every bridge, hundreds of statues, are all made of stone.
Notre Dame – the cathedral made famous by a hunchbacked bellringer, was fantastic, and must consume half the stone in Paris. I must say, however, that after three weeks in France, we might have become a little accustomed to such buildings. After all, every French village has a church at its centre, and every one has some historic beauty and significance. Major cities have several of them. Notre Dame is enormous, almost as if walking through its doors was not “going inside”, because it’s so big, the ceiling reaches the sky. No photo could do it justice.
The Louvre is huge, the largest museum in the world – too big to even contemplate a visit, specially considering the queue at the entrance door (the glass pyramid featured in The Da Vinci Code – didn’t see Tom Hanks though). Lonely Planet says you’d need 9 months to see everything in the Louvre. Lenny’s Mona Lisa had to be given a miss this time.
(By the way, many of my facts and figures have come from Lonely Planet’s “France”. LP is indeed the hitch-hikers guide to the galaxy – I believe it inspired Douglas Adams to write his famous books)
Thursday night was a special triple-treat, booked and paid for back in February. Dinner on the first level of the Eiffel Tower, followed by a cruise down the Seine to see Paris by night, and finally the midnight show at Moulin Rouge.. The meal in the restaurant was very nice, the view was superb, and it was only the first level. The lights of Paris when seen from the river is special – a completely different perspective. Moulin Rouge was an absolute squeeze – they sit you at a tiny table, with the tables all around you so close that you hardly have room to breath. A tip – go the loo before you enter. The show was incredible, with all the theatre elements amazingly done – lighting, colourful sets, moving stages, athletic dancing, music and singing (although it sounded pre-recorded to me – almost too good). A comedian, juggler, ventriloquist and two acrobats complimented the dancers. Were there bare breasts on the ladies? I don’t recall.
Friday 21st
First up, the Arc de Triomphe, located at the confluence of 12 busy Paris streets, making it one of the worlds largest, and busiest roundabouts. We’re told that if you want to drive a hire car in Paris, they will not offer you insurance if you want to negotiate the Arc de Triomphe. Built by Napolean and completed in 1836, it is (guess what??) huge, towering above you as you stand underneath. Beneath the arch is France’s Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, with an eternal flame, burning since 1921. A fantastic view from the top, where you see that Paris is essentially flat except for a small hill in the suburb of Montmarte, on top which sits the Sacre Coeur, a Catholic basilica built in the late 1800s.
In another direction, in the distance we could see a concentration of skyscrapers, which were the only tall buildings on the skyline (other than the Tower). And in the middle was what looked like a white square arch. We hopped on the train to explore. La Defense is the modern business district of Paris, deliberately located away from historic Paris. Started in the late 1950s, it is an ultra-modern city, with glass skyscrapers and large open walking spaces. Not a car or road to be seen, and is in complete contrast to the rest of Paris. It’s dominated, however, by the Grande Arch, made out of marble and glass. It is 110 meters along each side, forming a huge cubic arched building with a window looking toward the Arc de Triomphe and the Louvre’s Glass Pyramid, quite a few kilometers away. Built in 1989 to commemorate 200 years since the French Revolution, it actually contains offices on both sides of the Arch. An amazing thing.
Saturday 22 September
Up early to beat the crowds at the Eiffel Tower. It opens at 9.30, and before opening, the crowds must have numbered thousands. An enduring image, while waiting in line, was the sight of three soldiers walking amongst the crowds, armed with machine guns, no less. Security is rife in Paris – we were body searched when entering the rugby, and all rubbish bins in Paris are simply clear plastic bags hanging from a ring, so its contents can be seen.
The Eiffel Tower is imposing, all 324 metres and 2.5 million rivets of it. Built for the 1889 World Fair to commemorate 100 years since the French Revolution, it was only ever supposed to be a temporary structure – about 20 years. It was kept to mount radio aerials on the top – now it’s hard to imagine Paris without it. It’s obviously the major Paris tourist attraction – thousands and thousands of people were there. We had breakfast in the Eiffel Tower.
We then caught the same RER train further up the road to Versaille, and its famous palace. Built by King Louis the 14th in the late 16th century as a means to glorify himself in the eyes of his people, this place can be described in various ways – grand, immense, magnificent, opulent, royal, beautiful, and ultimately over-the-top. And the gardens are ten times more than that. This Louis guy was certainly full of himself and his own importance, and the other kings that came after followed suit, and it’s no wonder that the French people revolted against this opulence to overthrow the king in 1789. We walked through the very bedroom where Queen Marie Antoinette was sleeping when the peasants stormed the palace, and she escaped through a side door with seconds to spare. We walked through the room where the Treaty of Versaille was signed to end the First World War. Its easy to see why this place is listed as World Heritage – rooms gilded in gold, masterpieces painted on every ceiling, money was no object when they built this. The gardens are a huge man-made park, with dozens of fountains, and we’re talking about each fountain shooting huge volumes of water into the air. Manicured lawns, shaped hedges, 200,000 trees over 800 hectacres, while the palace covers 11 hectacres, contains 2,153 windows, 700 rooms and 67 staircases. It was all a bit overwhelming, really.
Wednesday, 19 September 2007
Paris, France
After arriving at Charles de Gaulle airport to drop off the hire car, after 19 days of faithful service, we caught the train into Paris city. An interesting sight greeted us on the train, where there were about a dozen people sitting for the journey. A small lady dressed in a head scarfe (presumably Muslim) stood in the middle of the carriage and started singing. We had no idea what she was singing, but that didn’t matter – the singing was perfect pitch, the voice was angelic, with amazing tonal qualitites. Sounded like she was praying. When she’d finished, she went through the carriage and showed her open purse to everyone. Most people (including us) dropped in a coin, she said “Merci” and moved into the next carriage. A form of begging I suppose, but it was a memorable welcome to this huge, multicultural city.
After checking into the hotel (which is in a great central location to the city), we deciphered the Paris metro train system and joined 45, 474 other people at the Rugby World Cup game between Italy and Portugal, at Parc Des Princes, a huge stadium on the outskirts of the city. Not being accustomed to Rugby Union, we found the game somewhat baffling, but the atmosphere was electric. Italy were favourites, but Portugal certainly had a good half of the crowd with them. For the record, Italy won 31–5. We sat next to a rabid Portugal supporter - I'm sure we learned some new swear words in Portuguese. Poms on the other side of us. And we sat with an Irishman on the train after the match who gave us some tips for Dublin next week. This really is a multicultural experience.
After checking into the hotel (which is in a great central location to the city), we deciphered the Paris metro train system and joined 45, 474 other people at the Rugby World Cup game between Italy and Portugal, at Parc Des Princes, a huge stadium on the outskirts of the city. Not being accustomed to Rugby Union, we found the game somewhat baffling, but the atmosphere was electric. Italy were favourites, but Portugal certainly had a good half of the crowd with them. For the record, Italy won 31–5. We sat next to a rabid Portugal supporter - I'm sure we learned some new swear words in Portuguese. Poms on the other side of us. And we sat with an Irishman on the train after the match who gave us some tips for Dublin next week. This really is a multicultural experience.
Tuesday, 18 September 2007
Epernay, France
Saturday 15th September
A walking tour of Mechelen, courtesy of our expert tour guides – pram and all. A beautiful town, with a spectacular old cathedral in the centre. Its huge cavernous interior was dominated by a pulpit made out of wood, so large and intricately carved that it defied belief . Created in the 16th century, it contained relief carvings of men, beasts and plants in such detail that you could spend hours studying it. The cathedral contained other artifacts such as paintings and murals, with amazing history.
Just outside there was a market buzzing, being a Saturday morning. Dozens of stalls, selling everything imaginable. More narrow streets, and interesting places with stories to tell. Lunch in a sidewalk café beside a river, away from traffic – a very pleasant city to explore.
Sunday 16th
We headed south for a planned afternoon with a work colleague Bart and his family, who live near Ruien and Kortrijk. On the way we called into the beautiful city of Gent, with its imposing Belfort in the middle of the city. Unusally not a church at all, but built in the middle ages to the usual gigantic proportions, the Belfort is just one of the many such buildings in Gent, most are churches and cathedrals, and all are magnificent in their own way.
Monday 17th
Before sadly leaving Belgium, we called into Brussells to see the Atomium – a strange structure built in 1958 for the World Exhibition (the first Expo held after WW2). It was only intended to last for the 6 months of the Expo, but proved so popular that it remained, and was recently given a complete renovation. It consists of 9 steel spheres connected by an array of tubes or corridors in the shape of a cube. It is supposed to represent a molecule of iron, magnified 265 billion times, and the view from the top gives a great view of the city.
Saying a sad goodbye to Gaia, Stijn and Lauran, we headed back into France, and found a nice B&B near Epernay for a two day stay.
Tuesday 18 September.
A lovely day, today, in Epernay, in the champagne region. This is the real stuff – not the pretend sparkling wine that we’re used to at home, this is real French champagne. First up – a tour of Moet & Chandon. You enter a large marble-white building, with white gravel car-park, and white stone fence. Across the road is the official Moet & Chandon accommodation building (for clients) and offices – again housed in a large white palatial building. Napoleon had been one of its more famous guests. After a general introduction, you are lead down a flight of stairs, below street level, then another flight, and another, and you enter a dark, cold stone-floored cavern. Turn a corner, and the arched tunnel disappears into the distance before you. There are 28 kilometers of tunnels, or caves, 25 meters below the Epernay streets, where the hundreds of thousands of M&C bottles are matured. The champagne-making process was amazing, with such pain-staking, hands-on, laborious work. For example, they employ a handful of people simply to spend a few weeks turning every bottle, a quarter-turn every day, before disgorging the sediment from the neck. To see kilometers of bottles, lying on their side, bottom out, was sight to behold.
In the afternoon, we did a tour of the Marne valley around Epernay with a wine-maker. Situated in a broad valley, the hillsides are covered in a quilt of vines, to the horizon, all in perfectly straight rows, all at the same height, but in irregular shaped paddocks, not a square or rectangle to be seen. We learn that there are 35,000 hectacres under vines in Champagne, but only 10% of this area is owned by the big corporations, like Moet & Chandon. The rest is owned by 15,000 growers, of which there are 5,000 making their own champagne - the rest sell their grapes to the corporations. But that’s five thousand different champagnes being made in the area, each with a range of four or five labels. They have a quota given by the controlling body – 1,300 kgs per hectacre. Any more than that (in a good harvest) has to be left for the birds. And no new ground can be planted with vines – what’s there now is it. So these wineries are very much family concerns – the only way to increase production is to marry another winemaker.
A walking tour of Mechelen, courtesy of our expert tour guides – pram and all. A beautiful town, with a spectacular old cathedral in the centre. Its huge cavernous interior was dominated by a pulpit made out of wood, so large and intricately carved that it defied belief . Created in the 16th century, it contained relief carvings of men, beasts and plants in such detail that you could spend hours studying it. The cathedral contained other artifacts such as paintings and murals, with amazing history.
Just outside there was a market buzzing, being a Saturday morning. Dozens of stalls, selling everything imaginable. More narrow streets, and interesting places with stories to tell. Lunch in a sidewalk café beside a river, away from traffic – a very pleasant city to explore.
Sunday 16th
We headed south for a planned afternoon with a work colleague Bart and his family, who live near Ruien and Kortrijk. On the way we called into the beautiful city of Gent, with its imposing Belfort in the middle of the city. Unusally not a church at all, but built in the middle ages to the usual gigantic proportions, the Belfort is just one of the many such buildings in Gent, most are churches and cathedrals, and all are magnificent in their own way.
Monday 17th
Before sadly leaving Belgium, we called into Brussells to see the Atomium – a strange structure built in 1958 for the World Exhibition (the first Expo held after WW2). It was only intended to last for the 6 months of the Expo, but proved so popular that it remained, and was recently given a complete renovation. It consists of 9 steel spheres connected by an array of tubes or corridors in the shape of a cube. It is supposed to represent a molecule of iron, magnified 265 billion times, and the view from the top gives a great view of the city.
Saying a sad goodbye to Gaia, Stijn and Lauran, we headed back into France, and found a nice B&B near Epernay for a two day stay.
Tuesday 18 September.
A lovely day, today, in Epernay, in the champagne region. This is the real stuff – not the pretend sparkling wine that we’re used to at home, this is real French champagne. First up – a tour of Moet & Chandon. You enter a large marble-white building, with white gravel car-park, and white stone fence. Across the road is the official Moet & Chandon accommodation building (for clients) and offices – again housed in a large white palatial building. Napoleon had been one of its more famous guests. After a general introduction, you are lead down a flight of stairs, below street level, then another flight, and another, and you enter a dark, cold stone-floored cavern. Turn a corner, and the arched tunnel disappears into the distance before you. There are 28 kilometers of tunnels, or caves, 25 meters below the Epernay streets, where the hundreds of thousands of M&C bottles are matured. The champagne-making process was amazing, with such pain-staking, hands-on, laborious work. For example, they employ a handful of people simply to spend a few weeks turning every bottle, a quarter-turn every day, before disgorging the sediment from the neck. To see kilometers of bottles, lying on their side, bottom out, was sight to behold.
In the afternoon, we did a tour of the Marne valley around Epernay with a wine-maker. Situated in a broad valley, the hillsides are covered in a quilt of vines, to the horizon, all in perfectly straight rows, all at the same height, but in irregular shaped paddocks, not a square or rectangle to be seen. We learn that there are 35,000 hectacres under vines in Champagne, but only 10% of this area is owned by the big corporations, like Moet & Chandon. The rest is owned by 15,000 growers, of which there are 5,000 making their own champagne - the rest sell their grapes to the corporations. But that’s five thousand different champagnes being made in the area, each with a range of four or five labels. They have a quota given by the controlling body – 1,300 kgs per hectacre. Any more than that (in a good harvest) has to be left for the birds. And no new ground can be planted with vines – what’s there now is it. So these wineries are very much family concerns – the only way to increase production is to marry another winemaker.
Friday, 14 September 2007
Belgium
Another day, another country. After two weeks in France, today we drove further north into Belgium and to the home of our friends Stijn and Gaia, who visited us last year on their honeymoon. Now they have a gorgeous baby (Lauran), and we had a delightful evening meal with them and Gaia’s parents Marina and Jacques. It was so nice to be with a family (all three generations), relaxing in their home, enjoying delicious Belgian food and hospitality. And more Calvados. Oh dear.
This also gives us a chance to catch up on the Blog - sorry it´s taken all week to update.
This also gives us a chance to catch up on the Blog - sorry it´s taken all week to update.
Thursday, 13 September 2007
The Somme, France
A solemn day today as we explored the Somme, or the valley of the Somme River east of Amiens, where the major battles were fought for control of the Western Front in the First World War. We headed for the little village of Villers Britennoux – to call it “sleepy” would be an understatement, but you are greeted by a sign leading into the town that says “Un Australie de Picardie”. This town still honours the Australian soldiers who fought to liberate town from the Germans in 1918. Just two kilometers out of town is the Australian War Memorial for the fallen of 1914-18, which contains hundreds of white headstones inscribed with the names of Aussies killed in this very area during that campaign. Inscribed on a wall is also the names of nearly 11,000 Aussies who were killed in the various theatres in northern France and Belgium in WW1. The memorial was built in 1925, and had to be restored after being damaged during Hitler’s invasion in WW2. Some pot marks are still visible from the gunfire. To see the Aussie flag flying was a touching moment, so far from home, and this feeling was compounded when seeing the age of the men (mostly early 20s) and the number of headstones that said “Here lies a soldier of the Great War, known only to God”. So young, and so far from home.
Back in the village, we went thought the “Franco-Australien Musee” – a room containing photographs of Aussies from WW! and simple artifacts like letters and uniforms. As you walk around the room, the flag of each Australian state and territory is draped. Seeing the Tasmanian flag makes you realise how far away from home you are. Incidentally, after three weeks away from home, it was amazing how distinctive the Australian accent was – we had a good conversation with several Aussies who were unmistakable as soon as they opened their mouth.
We then visited the Canadian Memorial to WW! – in particular, a commemoration to the Newfoundland contribution to the war effort. The interesting thing about this was that the very large area of ground had been left as it was in 1918 – only the grass had been allowed to grow. You could see the trenches, actually walk through some of them, and see hundreds of craters where bombs had landed. The one thing that was easily realized when driving through the Somme was the need for trench warfare – the entire area is totally flat and devoid of trees and hills. You had to dig trenches to avoid getting shot at. To see these trenches first-hand, and try to imagine the hellish time that it must have been, was very moving to say the least.
A delightful meal back at Ros and Chris’s, and topped off by Ros’s own calvados, which is a traditional Normandie fortified wine made by concentrating apple cider. Delicious, but at 52% alcohol, advisable in small quantities.
Back in the village, we went thought the “Franco-Australien Musee” – a room containing photographs of Aussies from WW! and simple artifacts like letters and uniforms. As you walk around the room, the flag of each Australian state and territory is draped. Seeing the Tasmanian flag makes you realise how far away from home you are. Incidentally, after three weeks away from home, it was amazing how distinctive the Australian accent was – we had a good conversation with several Aussies who were unmistakable as soon as they opened their mouth.
We then visited the Canadian Memorial to WW! – in particular, a commemoration to the Newfoundland contribution to the war effort. The interesting thing about this was that the very large area of ground had been left as it was in 1918 – only the grass had been allowed to grow. You could see the trenches, actually walk through some of them, and see hundreds of craters where bombs had landed. The one thing that was easily realized when driving through the Somme was the need for trench warfare – the entire area is totally flat and devoid of trees and hills. You had to dig trenches to avoid getting shot at. To see these trenches first-hand, and try to imagine the hellish time that it must have been, was very moving to say the least.
A delightful meal back at Ros and Chris’s, and topped off by Ros’s own calvados, which is a traditional Normandie fortified wine made by concentrating apple cider. Delicious, but at 52% alcohol, advisable in small quantities.
Wednesday, 12 September 2007
Normandie, France
Our four-wheel Tour de France continued after sharing breakfast with a nice pair of French ladies also staying at our B&B. No English kept the conversation pretty basic. After a stop in Pontorson for food supplies, we headed north for Saint Lo and the Atlantic coast, and a slice of very recent history in comparison to the centuries-old of late. Omaha Beach was one of the many beaches used by US, British and Canadian soldiers during the massive allied invasion of occupied France on June 6th, 1944. A beautiful strip of coastline, ranging from high rugged cliffs to sandy beaches, dotted with the occasional houses and “shacks”, and some German bunkers destroyed on that day. One still had the canon inside. War memorials laid by the three different nations are now on the beachfront. Some are as recent as 2004, marking the 60th anniversary of D-Day. You still drive through the villages at the top of the cliffs that were liberated within the first 24 hours of the Allies landing – Vierville, St Laurent, Colleville – just a few houses, all set on extremely narrow streets. Near St Laurent is the US War Cemetery, a massive area of manicured lawns and thousands of plain white marble crosses, laid in perfectly straight rows, each one inscribed with the name of a fallen American soldier. Time shortage stopped us visiting the Canadian Cemetery further up the road.
On to another city liberated after D-Day, Bayeux, and in particular the Bayeux Tapestry. We’d heard a lot about this artefact, and today we saw it first-hand. Hand-sewn not long after the Battle of Hastings in 1066, it tells the story of how William the Conqueror took the crown from Harold to become King of England. Amazing how this thing (over 70 metres long) has survived ten centuries, and the colours are still vibrant and have not faded much over that time.
Searching for our pre-booked B&B, we got lost getting through Rouen while looking for A28 (it didn’t help that they’d built a second A28 since our map had been printed) and we didn’t arrive at our destination until 8.30. We expected to go to bed without eating but we were delighted to be offered a delicious meal with very short notice to our host. And to top it all off, our hosts are ex-pat Brits living in France, and the second couple staying were from Wales. So we had a wonderful night speaking English without having to resort to the French-English dictionary. The house was set in the middle of a dense forest (mainly beech trees), with no other sign of civilization. Our English host Ros told us of stories told to her by elderly locals who were part of the resistance in WW2, and how they would hide shot down pilots from the Germans in the very forest just outside our door.
On to another city liberated after D-Day, Bayeux, and in particular the Bayeux Tapestry. We’d heard a lot about this artefact, and today we saw it first-hand. Hand-sewn not long after the Battle of Hastings in 1066, it tells the story of how William the Conqueror took the crown from Harold to become King of England. Amazing how this thing (over 70 metres long) has survived ten centuries, and the colours are still vibrant and have not faded much over that time.
Searching for our pre-booked B&B, we got lost getting through Rouen while looking for A28 (it didn’t help that they’d built a second A28 since our map had been printed) and we didn’t arrive at our destination until 8.30. We expected to go to bed without eating but we were delighted to be offered a delicious meal with very short notice to our host. And to top it all off, our hosts are ex-pat Brits living in France, and the second couple staying were from Wales. So we had a wonderful night speaking English without having to resort to the French-English dictionary. The house was set in the middle of a dense forest (mainly beech trees), with no other sign of civilization. Our English host Ros told us of stories told to her by elderly locals who were part of the resistance in WW2, and how they would hide shot down pilots from the Germans in the very forest just outside our door.
Monday, 10 September 2007
St Emillion, France
A quick note from an internet cafe in St Emillion. Exploring this lovely village, and amazed at the history, narrow streets, cobblestone surfaces, and expensive wines (but plenty of cheap wines to consume, too). Lots of shops selling vintage bottles, eg 1958 bottle 1,100Euros, or a 1946 bottle for 4,460Euros. Hmmm ... not today.
Continuing our journey north towards La Rochelle this afternoon, and looking forward to the Atlantic coast and the fishing port of La Rochelle. Gotta find a B&B for the night as well. It will have to be good to match last nights. This morning Armand showed us around his vineyard - a lovely chap indeed. This entire area is covered in vineyards - rolling hills of vines, dotted by stone buildings of wineries or churches.
Continuing our journey north towards La Rochelle this afternoon, and looking forward to the Atlantic coast and the fishing port of La Rochelle. Gotta find a B&B for the night as well. It will have to be good to match last nights. This morning Armand showed us around his vineyard - a lovely chap indeed. This entire area is covered in vineyards - rolling hills of vines, dotted by stone buildings of wineries or churches.
Mont St Michel, France
Leaving La Rochelle and heading north, we passed by Nantes (with a huge bridge that seemed to fly over the city) and Rennes to arrive at Mont St Michel. Many have told us about how magical this place is, but to see it for real is to believe it. A huge stone abbey built on top of a large rocky outcrop jutting out of the water, it defies belief how this feat could have been achieved without the aids of modern-day machinery. A village has been built around the foot of the abbey to create a complete medieval township that has been preserved so that stepping through the front gate is like walking back in time.
The one thing that struck us, however, was the commercialism (much like the Old City in Carcassonne). Souvenir shops, bars, hotels (yes, you can stay in the village, for a hefty price) restaurants and ice-creams vendors line the narrow streets as you walk ever upwards towards the abbey. And there were hundreds and hundreds of people – with hundreds of cars, motorhomes and buses in the carpark (paying 4 Euros for the priviledge). But once you reach the abbey (and pay 8 Euros entry fee) you are transported back 800 years into the life and times of the Benedictine monk of St Michel. Incredible and breathtaking craftsmanship in stonework, so high above the water. Reaching the very top, we witnessed a wedding taking place – what a superb venue to get married!
After an evening meal at one of the dozens of restaurants close by, we walked out to the “island”, with high tide leaving just the road for access. With the sun setting and the lights of the abbey reflecting in the water, it was a lovely way to end a magic day.
The one thing that struck us, however, was the commercialism (much like the Old City in Carcassonne). Souvenir shops, bars, hotels (yes, you can stay in the village, for a hefty price) restaurants and ice-creams vendors line the narrow streets as you walk ever upwards towards the abbey. And there were hundreds and hundreds of people – with hundreds of cars, motorhomes and buses in the carpark (paying 4 Euros for the priviledge). But once you reach the abbey (and pay 8 Euros entry fee) you are transported back 800 years into the life and times of the Benedictine monk of St Michel. Incredible and breathtaking craftsmanship in stonework, so high above the water. Reaching the very top, we witnessed a wedding taking place – what a superb venue to get married!
After an evening meal at one of the dozens of restaurants close by, we walked out to the “island”, with high tide leaving just the road for access. With the sun setting and the lights of the abbey reflecting in the water, it was a lovely way to end a magic day.
Sunday, 9 September 2007
St Emilion, France
The warm hospitality and charming friendship from Jean, Andy, Nicole and Helene made it well worthwhile changing plans and spending the night with them. Jean also helped us book tonight’s accommodation over the phone – her French language skills proving invaluable. After a heartfelt goodbye, with a depth of gratitude that seemed impossible to convey, we set off for the west. Hopefully, one day, we will repay their kindness by welcoming Jean, Andy and the girls to Tasmania.
After a two-hour drive, we arrived in the Bordeaux region. Deciding not to venture into “la grande ville”, we left the motorway (after paying ten euros for the privilege) before Bordeaux and headed for St Emilion, then onto a little village called Belves-de-Castillon, to the home of our B&B host for tonight, Armond Burriel at Chateau Claud-Bellevue. The countryside is spectacular, the scenery stunning. Vineyards to the horizon, passing through one little village after another, with buildings looking as old as they obviously are. Our host is charming, and amazingly we discuss wine, holidays, family and our home countries without Armand speaking any English and us struggling with the occasional word in French. Goes to show that language is not a barrier in establishing international relations. But wine helps, specially when it’s made by the host.
After a two-hour drive, we arrived in the Bordeaux region. Deciding not to venture into “la grande ville”, we left the motorway (after paying ten euros for the privilege) before Bordeaux and headed for St Emilion, then onto a little village called Belves-de-Castillon, to the home of our B&B host for tonight, Armond Burriel at Chateau Claud-Bellevue. The countryside is spectacular, the scenery stunning. Vineyards to the horizon, passing through one little village after another, with buildings looking as old as they obviously are. Our host is charming, and amazingly we discuss wine, holidays, family and our home countries without Armand speaking any English and us struggling with the occasional word in French. Goes to show that language is not a barrier in establishing international relations. But wine helps, specially when it’s made by the host.
Saturday, 8 September 2007
Tolouse, France
After a final clean-up of Beausoleil, a goodbye to Claudine and a last farewell to the village square, we set off from Mirepoix – back to the home of Jean and Andy, the family who so spectacularly wined and dined us during our Toulouse stay a week ago. Their kind offer to come back was too good to pass up, and how could we drive past on our way to the Atlantic coast, and Bordeaux, without seeing our new friends once more. Only this time we would stay the night.
An interesting day sport-wise today – three national teams played for England today in three different sports at the same time, and were all on TV. The cricket team beat India by 7 wickets at Lords (where we were just over a week ago) to wrap up the One Day International series 4-3. The soccer team beat Israel 3-1 in a European Cup qualifier, and the rugby team beat the United States in a World Cup game. Incidently, we also watched Australia beat Japan 89-3 in a rugby World Cup game as well.
An interesting day sport-wise today – three national teams played for England today in three different sports at the same time, and were all on TV. The cricket team beat India by 7 wickets at Lords (where we were just over a week ago) to wrap up the One Day International series 4-3. The soccer team beat Israel 3-1 in a European Cup qualifier, and the rugby team beat the United States in a World Cup game. Incidently, we also watched Australia beat Japan 89-3 in a rugby World Cup game as well.
Friday, 7 September 2007
Mirepoix, France
Our 7th night in Mirepoix, and sadly our last. The day was spent packing, catching up on emails and travel blogs, cleaning up and using up food in the fridge. We have cooked for ourselves all week, each couple taking it in turns to create something each night from ingredients bought in the village. We all contributed money to a kitty from which all groceries and wine where bought from, and we’ve had some pretty scrumptious meals this week. Rotiserie poulet (roast chicken), canard a la’range (duck & orange), foix gras (duck liver), boeuf bourguignon (beef burgundy), gnocchi. And of course, left overs, and frommage (cheese), and heaps of them. And wine. Tonight, our last night, was a local delicacy – quail. Tiny birds roasted with garlic, and delicious. Thanks to Richard. Then, we all gather around the TV for the opening ceremony and the first game in the 2007 Rugby World Cup, being held just up the road in Paris. There were several large screens set up in the Village Square bars for the locals to get into the spirit, and it swept us along with it, even if the commentary was in French. Our support for the home team did not help – Argentina beat France.
We are going to miss Mirepoix. We’ve met many wonderful people – the butcher made us laugh on the very first day, and it got better after that. Tonight, we talked about what if we had spent a week drinking wine in a village square back home, say Yorktown Square, and it would not have been the same. In Mirepoix, you are sitting where other people have sat for 7 centuries, and the buildings are the same now as they were then. It’s the history that makes this place so special. And the people. The people are special too. Our house has been extremely comfortable, homely but also distinctly provincial French, and we’ve lived together very nicely, as friends and fellow travelers. The friendship bonds have strengthened because each of us have a total appreciation for the town we’ve called home for the past week.
Thursday, 6 September 2007
Carcassonne, France
Today – Carcassonne. Less than an hour’s drive from Mirepoix, this is really two cities in one. Firstly the modern city has all the hallmarks of a provincial French town, with narrow cobblestone streets and large shopping centres, but the most intriguing part of Carcassonne is the Old City, La Cite. Viewed from afar, the Old City looks like a fairytale castle, with two high surrounding walls and dozens of turrets all around the entire perimeter. Sitting high on a hill just accentuates its prominence. Once again, the history of this place is overwhelming, having been built by Gauls, Romans, Visigoths, Moors and Franks over the last ten centuries. This was one of the major Cathar strongholds in the 13th century, and much of the history of this region of southern France (De Pays Cathar) is dominated by this strange religious sect of the 13th Century (I suggest you look up the Cathars in Wikipedia – a fascinating and terribly sad story). Further research tells you that only the lower walls are original – the conical-shaped roofs of the turrets are actually 19th century.
Once you’ve marveled at La Cite and walked through its front gate and over the now-dry moat, you enter a totally unexpected world. Disappointingly, the place is rife with outright commercialism – restaurants, bars, hotels, clothes shops, galleries, and souvenir shops selling real and plastic swords and armour. Very very tacky, and it almost seems a crime to taint the centuries of history with this blatant grab for the tourist Euro. Still, with a little effort, we found various quiet streets and courtyards where the crowds weren’t and the stone craftsmanship and age could be appreciated. La Cite also has a huge church, and the stained glass windows are magnificent when viewed from the inside-out.
Driving back to Mirepoix, we braved the back-roads instead of paying the toll on the motorway (although the cost was only 1.40 Euro). We have found the road signs in France (cities and countryside) to be exceptionally good and easy to follow. Much of this road ran beside the Canal De Midi, as it wound its way down to the Mediterrenean, making very pretty shady spots beside an altogether artificial river.
Once you’ve marveled at La Cite and walked through its front gate and over the now-dry moat, you enter a totally unexpected world. Disappointingly, the place is rife with outright commercialism – restaurants, bars, hotels, clothes shops, galleries, and souvenir shops selling real and plastic swords and armour. Very very tacky, and it almost seems a crime to taint the centuries of history with this blatant grab for the tourist Euro. Still, with a little effort, we found various quiet streets and courtyards where the crowds weren’t and the stone craftsmanship and age could be appreciated. La Cite also has a huge church, and the stained glass windows are magnificent when viewed from the inside-out.
Driving back to Mirepoix, we braved the back-roads instead of paying the toll on the motorway (although the cost was only 1.40 Euro). We have found the road signs in France (cities and countryside) to be exceptionally good and easy to follow. Much of this road ran beside the Canal De Midi, as it wound its way down to the Mediterrenean, making very pretty shady spots beside an altogether artificial river.
Wednesday, 5 September 2007
Mirepoix, France
Anne’s 50th birthday, and after yummies from the local patisserie and champagne for breakfast, Anne spent the morning on the phone talking to birthday wellwishers from as far away as Tasmania (ie, home), Vancouver (ie, daughter Dayna) and northern India (good fiend Mike on his Himalayan motorbike tour). Lunch was had in the town centre, with everyone enjoying either “plat de jour” (the suggested courses of the day, with todays mains either canard [duck] or pasta) or “cassoulet”, which is this regions local delicacy of various meats done in a casserole style. All of it delicious.
A leisurely afternoon culminated in a gracious invitation to the home of Claudine and Serge Levy for aperitifs before dinner. Claudine is our Mirepoix contact for the house we’re staying in, and they made all eight of us very welcome for a couple of hours of fantastic conversation and great wines from the Languedoc region (ie local). It was wonderful to talk to lovely locals about what it’s like to live in France, and life in a provincial town like Mirepoix. A very interesting evening with some lovely people.
Then back to the house for Anne’s home-made pizzas and leftovers. Midnight and off to bed after another incredible day in France.
A leisurely afternoon culminated in a gracious invitation to the home of Claudine and Serge Levy for aperitifs before dinner. Claudine is our Mirepoix contact for the house we’re staying in, and they made all eight of us very welcome for a couple of hours of fantastic conversation and great wines from the Languedoc region (ie local). It was wonderful to talk to lovely locals about what it’s like to live in France, and life in a provincial town like Mirepoix. A very interesting evening with some lovely people.
Then back to the house for Anne’s home-made pizzas and leftovers. Midnight and off to bed after another incredible day in France.
Tuesday, 4 September 2007
Mirepoix, France
Week beginning September 1st.
Life in Mirepoix is very easy to take. In fact, we could get quite used to this lifestyle. A leisurely breakfast followed by café in the Village Square (just three minutes walk around the corner). Businesses shut for lunch for about two hours every day (the Post Office shuts from 12 til 4pm), and it seems that everyone ends up spending their lunchtime sitting in one of the many cafes, bars and restaurants in the Village Square. They then go back to work til 7pm, then back to the Square for an aperitif before a late evening meal at 9 or 10pm. Of course, we are following the local custom.
They’re not kidding when they describe this as a “Medieval Village” … and it ain’t Disneyland make-believe stuff – this is a town that recognizes its historical significance and tries very hard to maintain the history. You feel privileged to share the town with the people who live here.
Sunday we drove a short way out of Mirepoix to a little village called Camon, and like every other village in France, it is dominated by narrow streets, shuttered windows, and a large castle in the middle of the town. So many of these striking structures starts to make you blasé about the human effort that went into building these castles so many centuries ago. A short drive on and we come across Chateau Lagard – this time a castle in ruins sitting high on top of a hill, with the magnificent Pyrenees (and Spain) easily within sight to the south. Although currently being restored, the entire castle was succumbing to gravity and falling to the ground, but it took little imagination to marvel at its grandeur in its heyday.
Monday is market day in the Square. Dozens of stalls selling every type of fruit and vegetable you could imagine. And so cheap. And fresh. The butchers have kindly kept the heads on the rabbits, chickens and ducks (with eyes intact), and have parts of animals on offer that you dare not question their origin. Clothes, crafts, books, herbs, souvenirs – you could buy anything here. By midday, they’ve finished their selling, and they pack everything up, leaving the Square for the cafes and bars to provide the weary shoppers with comfortable tables and chairs to start their aperitifs early. Monday evenings must be an extravaganza of gastronomic delights in Mirepoix.
Life in Mirepoix is very easy to take. In fact, we could get quite used to this lifestyle. A leisurely breakfast followed by café in the Village Square (just three minutes walk around the corner). Businesses shut for lunch for about two hours every day (the Post Office shuts from 12 til 4pm), and it seems that everyone ends up spending their lunchtime sitting in one of the many cafes, bars and restaurants in the Village Square. They then go back to work til 7pm, then back to the Square for an aperitif before a late evening meal at 9 or 10pm. Of course, we are following the local custom.
They’re not kidding when they describe this as a “Medieval Village” … and it ain’t Disneyland make-believe stuff – this is a town that recognizes its historical significance and tries very hard to maintain the history. You feel privileged to share the town with the people who live here.
Sunday we drove a short way out of Mirepoix to a little village called Camon, and like every other village in France, it is dominated by narrow streets, shuttered windows, and a large castle in the middle of the town. So many of these striking structures starts to make you blasé about the human effort that went into building these castles so many centuries ago. A short drive on and we come across Chateau Lagard – this time a castle in ruins sitting high on top of a hill, with the magnificent Pyrenees (and Spain) easily within sight to the south. Although currently being restored, the entire castle was succumbing to gravity and falling to the ground, but it took little imagination to marvel at its grandeur in its heyday.
Monday is market day in the Square. Dozens of stalls selling every type of fruit and vegetable you could imagine. And so cheap. And fresh. The butchers have kindly kept the heads on the rabbits, chickens and ducks (with eyes intact), and have parts of animals on offer that you dare not question their origin. Clothes, crafts, books, herbs, souvenirs – you could buy anything here. By midday, they’ve finished their selling, and they pack everything up, leaving the Square for the cafes and bars to provide the weary shoppers with comfortable tables and chairs to start their aperitifs early. Monday evenings must be an extravaganza of gastronomic delights in Mirepoix.
Sunday, 2 September 2007
Millau, France
The Porters and the Sayers headed off today for a day’s driving through the French countryside, intending to see one of the world’s great feats of modern engineering. Millau is a large town north of Breziers and Montpelier, and lies at the bottom of a large valley on the major route between Paris and Spain. The Millau viaduct is a bridge built earlier this decade across the entire valley to stop traffic having to drive through town. The roadway is 240 metres above the valley floor, and you drive across two and a half kilometers of bridge to get from one side of the valley to the other. It truly is like driving in the sky … the town on Millau is only a small point below you in the luscious green countryside. You have to see this thing to believe that it’s possible to build such a delicate and graceful structure. What can I say … the Millau Viaduct is amazing – check our photos. French ingenuity is hard to surpass.
On the way home, we pulled off the motorway and called into a little seaside town called Agde, just so we could dip our toes into the Mediterranean Sea. This is obviously a resort town, dominated by hotels and retirement villages (even a “a la naturale” resort). The beaches had lovely sand and clear blue water that were being enjoyed by brown-skinned people of all ages. The marina was full of hundreds of leisure boats. The temperature was markedly warmer than further inland, and by the tans on the locals, this place sees more sunshine than many other places in France that we’ve seen.
On the way home, we pulled off the motorway and called into a little seaside town called Agde, just so we could dip our toes into the Mediterranean Sea. This is obviously a resort town, dominated by hotels and retirement villages (even a “a la naturale” resort). The beaches had lovely sand and clear blue water that were being enjoyed by brown-skinned people of all ages. The marina was full of hundreds of leisure boats. The temperature was markedly warmer than further inland, and by the tans on the locals, this place sees more sunshine than many other places in France that we’ve seen.
Saturday, 1 September 2007
Toulouse, France
Monday night was Blood Brothers, the musical on West End, and it was everything our friend Danny made it out to be. Beautiful story, fantastic singing and acting, incredible score and sets. Can't wait to see it in Launceston next year (eh, Danny?).
Thursday was goodbye to London, and fly to Toulouse. Immediately, a different city and culture. But our friend Jean helped us out at the airport, and then we were welcomed into her home that night. So warm and hospitable, it was a magic night with her family and friends in a beautiful house. A highlight of the trip so far.
Friday was spent exploring Toulouse, incredible old buildings. A huge basilica in the centre of the town was built in 1076 ... hard to comprehend standing inside it, let alone how they built such a huge stone building.
So, today, Saturday, we venture south to the village of Mirepoix. As our waitress asked last night "Why would you want to go there ... there's so much to see in Toulouse?". For a start, we are looking forward to having a rest. Being hardcore tourists is hard work.
Toulouse, France
As our checkout for the Toulouse hotel was midday, we ventured into the city centre for one last time. The dominant building on the skyline was the spire to the St Sernin Basilica, which made it easy to find. Building for this huge stone church began in the 1070s, and we stood inside this cavernous structure and thought about how many people had walked these floors over ten centuries. The sound of the footsteps, and the whispers, was amazing, and the lighting was eerie.
Outside was a market, with locals selling anything, most of it looked like junk. The one incredible sight for us was a little old man selling 7-inch record singles, and on top of the pile was “Shaddup You Face” by Joe Dolce.
The very centre of Toulouse contains the Place de Capital – a huge open square surrounded by buildings that look very old and very European. Today was market day in the square, and it was obvious that the local pastime was sitting in one of the many outdoor restaurants that border the square, and people-watch.
Running through the middle of Toulouse are two waterways – the Garonne River, and a man-made canal called Canal De Midi, that runs the entire width of France. An engineering masterpiece of the 16th century, it enabled the transport of goods by water and was vital to French commerce. Right outside our hotel was one of the many locks on the canal, with a little house where someone sits and operates the gates to raise and lower boats.
After picking up our hire car, we said goodbye to Toulouse and headed south, arriving in Mirepoix mid-afternoon. By evening, all four couples had arrived, and our week-long party had begun.
Outside was a market, with locals selling anything, most of it looked like junk. The one incredible sight for us was a little old man selling 7-inch record singles, and on top of the pile was “Shaddup You Face” by Joe Dolce.
The very centre of Toulouse contains the Place de Capital – a huge open square surrounded by buildings that look very old and very European. Today was market day in the square, and it was obvious that the local pastime was sitting in one of the many outdoor restaurants that border the square, and people-watch.
Running through the middle of Toulouse are two waterways – the Garonne River, and a man-made canal called Canal De Midi, that runs the entire width of France. An engineering masterpiece of the 16th century, it enabled the transport of goods by water and was vital to French commerce. Right outside our hotel was one of the many locks on the canal, with a little house where someone sits and operates the gates to raise and lower boats.
After picking up our hire car, we said goodbye to Toulouse and headed south, arriving in Mirepoix mid-afternoon. By evening, all four couples had arrived, and our week-long party had begun.
Thursday, 30 August 2007
London, England
Monday Aug 27th
Today, Lords. The home of cricket. The hallowed turf. Well, after the MCG in our opinion, but the poms certainly love their cricket icon. We did a tour of the Lords ground, and also were lucky to see some of a county final in action : Chelsea v Suffolk. We witnessed first hand the age-old tradition of players entering and leaving Lords via the Long Room. The Suffolk batsman by the name of Grayson was given out on 87, and walked right by us as we were standing in the Long Room in the Pavillion. Naturally, we applauded him as any fine old cricketing gentlemen would. We were even given access to the ground during the lunch interval, and the Media Centre – that huge white strange-looking building that looks like a spaceship. And finally, in the museum, we saw a tiny little urn sitting in a glass cabinet. Priceless, and rightfully “owned” by us Aussies again.
Lords is in the area of St John’s Wood, and the Underground station just happens to be just 5 minutes walk from a certain street called Abbey Road. Yes, we made the deviation on the way back from Lords, and, yes, I had my picture taken on the crossing. And yes, I stood in front of the recording studio and pondered on the music that had been created inside that building.
Tuesday 28th
A Rock n Roll tour of London, which was also a great way to get a chaffuer-driven bus out of the city to see some lovely villages. Heaps of music trivia - too many to mention. Lots of places where people died, or lived, or drank, or recorded, or played.
Today, Lords. The home of cricket. The hallowed turf. Well, after the MCG in our opinion, but the poms certainly love their cricket icon. We did a tour of the Lords ground, and also were lucky to see some of a county final in action : Chelsea v Suffolk. We witnessed first hand the age-old tradition of players entering and leaving Lords via the Long Room. The Suffolk batsman by the name of Grayson was given out on 87, and walked right by us as we were standing in the Long Room in the Pavillion. Naturally, we applauded him as any fine old cricketing gentlemen would. We were even given access to the ground during the lunch interval, and the Media Centre – that huge white strange-looking building that looks like a spaceship. And finally, in the museum, we saw a tiny little urn sitting in a glass cabinet. Priceless, and rightfully “owned” by us Aussies again.
Lords is in the area of St John’s Wood, and the Underground station just happens to be just 5 minutes walk from a certain street called Abbey Road. Yes, we made the deviation on the way back from Lords, and, yes, I had my picture taken on the crossing. And yes, I stood in front of the recording studio and pondered on the music that had been created inside that building.
Tuesday 28th
A Rock n Roll tour of London, which was also a great way to get a chaffuer-driven bus out of the city to see some lovely villages. Heaps of music trivia - too many to mention. Lots of places where people died, or lived, or drank, or recorded, or played.
Wednesday, 29 August 2007
London, England
Last day in London, 29th August.
Today - a tour of Wimbledon. Only disappointment was Centre Court was not available, due to major reconstruction (including a roof), but the rest of it was fantastic. Amazing to think that this entire complex is used for just two weeks of the year (except for some outside courts used by the 500 members of the All England Lawn Tennis Club). Court One (now the major court at Wimbledon) will soon be used for Davis Cup, and then both it and Centre Court will be used for the Olympics in 2012. Other than that - only two weeks every year.
Early tomorrow morning, we say goodbye to London, but we're sure that we'll be back one day. This place is too vibrant and exciting to stay away. We've packed so much into the past 5 days, experienced everything from tranquil gardens to jam-packed tube stations. But ... we'll be back....
Today - a tour of Wimbledon. Only disappointment was Centre Court was not available, due to major reconstruction (including a roof), but the rest of it was fantastic. Amazing to think that this entire complex is used for just two weeks of the year (except for some outside courts used by the 500 members of the All England Lawn Tennis Club). Court One (now the major court at Wimbledon) will soon be used for Davis Cup, and then both it and Centre Court will be used for the Olympics in 2012. Other than that - only two weeks every year.
Early tomorrow morning, we say goodbye to London, but we're sure that we'll be back one day. This place is too vibrant and exciting to stay away. We've packed so much into the past 5 days, experienced everything from tranquil gardens to jam-packed tube stations. But ... we'll be back....
Tuesday, 28 August 2007
London, England
Saturday August 25.
We ventured out of London today, catching the tube out to Essex to visit friends of Phil and Michelle (our Melbourne cousins who have met us for our week in London). Firstly, however, we walked around Kensington Palace on the way to the train station. Immaculate gardens – I see what they mean by a “manicured lawn” – and the famous circular gates that gave us that enduring image of the sea of flowers following Diana’s death. Of course, this was her home. A lovely backyard!
Then on to Essex to visit Tom and Jane, who are ex-pat Tasmanians living in a charming little village called Loughton. They (and their three sons) were delightful company, the weather was magnificent with the sun shining, and we were even spoilt with some Tasmanian pinot wine, made by Tom’s brother Joe Holyman at StoneyRise, in the Tamar Valley. A taste of Tasmania, so far from home.
Sunday Aug 26th
A tube ride downtown to catch the early queue (thereby ensuring its shortness) to the London Eye. We had picked a good day, with the view stretching to the horizon. A walk along the south bank of the Thames (called, um, Southbank) eventually lead us to Tower Bridge. A walk across this amazing structure lead us to the Tower of London, where we spent the afternoon. Our guide was a theatrical fountain of knowledge. The Crown Jewels were amazing.
Monday night we saw Blood Brothers, the West End muscial that has been playing for 20 years. It was everything that everyone said it would be. Simply fantastic.
We ventured out of London today, catching the tube out to Essex to visit friends of Phil and Michelle (our Melbourne cousins who have met us for our week in London). Firstly, however, we walked around Kensington Palace on the way to the train station. Immaculate gardens – I see what they mean by a “manicured lawn” – and the famous circular gates that gave us that enduring image of the sea of flowers following Diana’s death. Of course, this was her home. A lovely backyard!
Then on to Essex to visit Tom and Jane, who are ex-pat Tasmanians living in a charming little village called Loughton. They (and their three sons) were delightful company, the weather was magnificent with the sun shining, and we were even spoilt with some Tasmanian pinot wine, made by Tom’s brother Joe Holyman at StoneyRise, in the Tamar Valley. A taste of Tasmania, so far from home.
Sunday Aug 26th
A tube ride downtown to catch the early queue (thereby ensuring its shortness) to the London Eye. We had picked a good day, with the view stretching to the horizon. A walk along the south bank of the Thames (called, um, Southbank) eventually lead us to Tower Bridge. A walk across this amazing structure lead us to the Tower of London, where we spent the afternoon. Our guide was a theatrical fountain of knowledge. The Crown Jewels were amazing.
Monday night we saw Blood Brothers, the West End muscial that has been playing for 20 years. It was everything that everyone said it would be. Simply fantastic.
Saturday, 25 August 2007
London, England
After just 5 hours in London, the icons just kept on coming.
To start with, we arrived on the classic QF9 – the famous Qantas 747 flight that has been bringing Aussies to London for years, and it arrives at 5 in the morning. After catching the Heathrow Express train into Paddington and checking into our Sussex Gardens hotel (consisting of a very small, basic but comfortable room - pity about having to drag the two heavy suitcases up the 3 flights of narrow stairs), we headed out into the fresh London morning. It was 7.30am. Through Bayswater, past Marble Arch and Hyde Park, through Mayfair and Park Lane (looking forward to collecting two hundred dollars as we pass “Go”) and into Green Park. Wandering rather aimlessly through this lovely park and marvelling at the squirrels (the locals probably wonder why tourists think these varmits are cute), we literally stumble onto Buckingham Palace as it emerged through the trees, taking us completely by surprise. Standing on the Queen Victoria monument at the front gates to the Palace, we look the opposite way, down the Mall to see the giant ferriswheel of the London Eye and Big Ben in the distance. Yesterday we were in little old Lonnie, half a world away. Yep – we’re definitely in London. And that was only in the first hour’s walk from the hotel. Londoners were still making their way to work on a normal Friday morning.
On the way back to the hotel, we walked up to Piccadilly Circus, turned down Regent Street, into Oxford Street, and we imagine that we’re walking a giant Monopoly board.
We also walked to Knightsbridge to see HARRODS, bought pastries and yoghurt drinks and ate lunch in Hyde Park on the way back to Sussex Gardens. Sore feet, rather exhausted with little sleep the night before, but ... wow ...
To start with, we arrived on the classic QF9 – the famous Qantas 747 flight that has been bringing Aussies to London for years, and it arrives at 5 in the morning. After catching the Heathrow Express train into Paddington and checking into our Sussex Gardens hotel (consisting of a very small, basic but comfortable room - pity about having to drag the two heavy suitcases up the 3 flights of narrow stairs), we headed out into the fresh London morning. It was 7.30am. Through Bayswater, past Marble Arch and Hyde Park, through Mayfair and Park Lane (looking forward to collecting two hundred dollars as we pass “Go”) and into Green Park. Wandering rather aimlessly through this lovely park and marvelling at the squirrels (the locals probably wonder why tourists think these varmits are cute), we literally stumble onto Buckingham Palace as it emerged through the trees, taking us completely by surprise. Standing on the Queen Victoria monument at the front gates to the Palace, we look the opposite way, down the Mall to see the giant ferriswheel of the London Eye and Big Ben in the distance. Yesterday we were in little old Lonnie, half a world away. Yep – we’re definitely in London. And that was only in the first hour’s walk from the hotel. Londoners were still making their way to work on a normal Friday morning.
On the way back to the hotel, we walked up to Piccadilly Circus, turned down Regent Street, into Oxford Street, and we imagine that we’re walking a giant Monopoly board.
We also walked to Knightsbridge to see HARRODS, bought pastries and yoghurt drinks and ate lunch in Hyde Park on the way back to Sussex Gardens. Sore feet, rather exhausted with little sleep the night before, but ... wow ...
Monday, 20 August 2007
Launceston
20 August - Welcome along for the ride - I hope you get some interest and enjoyment out of my ramblings.
Waiting impatiently for the big day to arrive - Thursday August 23. Last minute packing, jobs around the house, copying important documents, foreign currency from the bank, seeing friends and family for the last time for two months.
Waiting impatiently for the big day to arrive - Thursday August 23. Last minute packing, jobs around the house, copying important documents, foreign currency from the bank, seeing friends and family for the last time for two months.
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