Reflections on Spain

Reflections on Spain (allowing that Barcelona is not all of Spain)
· Spain is NOT France
· Spain is loud, bright, colourful, noisy, energetic, in your face, hot, exciting
· French shop assistants are positively fawning compared with Spanish shop assistants
· A building cannot have too much decoration or colour
· Spanish churches are dark
· Spanish churches have side altars that have never heard of “less is more”
· A side altar cannot have too much gold, tizzy decorations or floral tributes
· Spanish wedding dresses are completely OTT.
· A wedding dress should have at least an eight metre train comprised only of frills
· A bride should have a diamante tiara that is at least 20cms high
· Spanish beggars do not work hard. Apparently you can make a living by just lying on the ground, step, or even park bench and holding out a plastic cup.
· After eating out in Barcelona, there is no money left for pickpockets (or lazy beggars)
· You can have tapas on La Rambla and you can have tapas in an authentic tapas bar in a side street that you probably could never give directions to find again– there is no comparison
· Sangria is fantastic

• Barcelona does not have pickpockets, or perhaps we look too tough and scary or poor to be robbed

Barcelona day 3

27th September, Sunday.

Barcelona

After a good big breakfast, Mary and I headed towards La Sagreda Familia Cathedral – still under construction. Not sure if cathedral is the right word to describe this indescribably amazing building/monster/beast – an attempt to realise Gaudi’s dreams and all consuming obsession/passion. Gaudi was appointed architect in 1883 and was boss of the building’s construction until he was hit by a tramcar going to mass one night after work and eventually died in June 1926 (43 years). Another set back to the building’s completion was the destruction by so-called anarchists of all of Gaudi’s plans and models during the Spanish civil war in 1936. But as Mary observed this building may never be completed. –Gaudi envisioned an impossibly, infinitely beautiful building – everything in and on it is based on the mathematics behind patterns and structures found in nature and so it makes sense that the building itself will became an organic living growing organism – created in homage to God. And the fact the building is continuing to become more outrageous with a verticality to match that of the Eiffel Tower, a presence as grand as, if not more than St Paul’s or the Tate Modern in London or even the Arc de Triomphe. It has a decorativeness which completely satisfies the imagination may be because deep down in our soul we have hitched mankind’s star to this never ending building. The only fear is that Barcelona may be engaged in a gigantic folly, nearly as bizarre as the myth of building a stairway to heaven.

Mary and I took a lift ride to a point about 2/3 up one of the 8 completed tower/spires (approx 70metres up). On completion there will be 13 towers – the tallest at 170m. The view was staggering. Then we perused the museum and walked in and out and around the cathedral a couple of times. And as one does when one discovers something “so just right” we would have been happy just to sit and stay and look in wonder like the thousands of others there, but we eventually headed home for a siesta and prepare to take the funiclar up Montjuic, to investigate the old fortress and gardens and overlook the end of the Barcelona festival fireworks from a highpoint.

The views from the telerific were spectacular and as it got darker there lights of Barcelona began to twinkle and sparkle. We wandered around Castell de Montjuic which has a grim history as a political prison and killing ground, but this evening it was full of families and young people taking part in teh Merce – the Barcelona Festival. There are magnificent views of all of Barcelona and the castell holds a strategic position, with views out to sea. Below the castell are lovely gardens that we thought of walking through, but instead took the telerific – an aerial carriage ride, a skyrail. We went back to near our hotel to seek out a restaurant recommended by Lonely Planet. Well worth the walk through the seedy side of Barcelona (well 50 metres of it) to get to Elche, which has been serving food since 1959. We had paella and fuedos (like paella, but using vermicelli instead of rice). As we left the restaurant we caught a glimpse of the fireworks that conclude the Merce. It was a lovely way to finish our interlude in Barcelona.

Barcelona Day 2

Saturday, 26th September.

Barcelona

After a big buffet breakfast which was good we went shopping -an interesting journey back and forth up and down laneways between the two main shopping strips. With a visit to a cathedral and a Cathedral Basilica on the way, bigger darker bolder (dirtier) with more altars, gold, glitz and ornamentation than in France(now looking very petite and sedate by comparison) - there were a couple of religious buildings abstained from visiting – but why are there so many? I thought of the Sacre Coeur on Montmartre and the similarities struck me about the coexistence between these mighty presences of the church and its denizens all going about their business in their shadows. Cannot believe that Iam still off the fags and happy.

Mary found a few items and we received the royal Spanish reception again – compounded this time by demands of shop assistants to see our passports to prove our identity – of course Mary and I look like gypsy terrorist pick-pockets trying to make a fortune buying a few items of clothing – cos that’s what those pesky thieves in Spain do, when they’ve stolen your cards and passports? One observation though – is that the winter coats we have seen in France and Spain are fantastic with lots of appliqué, embroidery and collage, colourful designs, odd stitching and lots of big bright shiny buttons – none the same(cannot have too many buttons and zips).
No matter but we ploughed on up to Gaudi’s masterpiece – a 6 or 7 story house which he totally renovated and redesigned every square inch of its interior and exterior. As the guide book tells us Gaudi at his hallucinogenic best – it was lovely, not a straight corner or hard right angled edge to be seen, the carved wood work around doors, stained glass windows, staircases and floors was beautiful. Some of the colours had faded but it was great to realise that when one is a genius in Spain, you really get the royal treatment and support to realise your ideas to the fullest.
We had a rest before going out for dinner and tackle Spain at its liveliest once again. Yep, Saturday night dinner was everything and a bit more, as we have come to expect in Barcelona. Michael & Karol had found a good authentic Tapas bar to start proceedings. I was not aware of this particular Spanish custom and its protocols and got a bit annoyed by the ridiculousness of having to physically push and battle with hordes of people to the get the best tapas. My frustration increased because I thought this was going to be our dinner, until Mary explained the process. After which we explored the lanes and alleyways and found an authentic Spanish restaurant which had been operating since 1783 (it looked as tho all its staff had been there since that time too) – although we thought we did not have a chance to get in at 10pm - because the place looked packed from outside and a group of 20 people just beat us in. The old maître d’ just smiled and beckoned and we followed - the place had organically increased in size over its 2 centuries if existence by taking over other rooms and apartments in the building (as in France – Spain also hides what it holds precious and there is a surprise around every corner) – all its staff were women over 50 or 60 years of age – there were photographs and sketches all around the walls of famous people who had eaten there – opera singers including Dame Joan Sutherland – and the food and wine was great – we relaxed and had a ball (of course).

Then to finish off the night we headed to the Aussie bar, “Hogans” and watched a replay of the AFL grand final – and finally made it home bout 1.30, an early night by Spanish standards.

Barcelona

Friday 25th September

Barcelona.

Leaving France was a bit tricky with a few transfers involved: dropping car, catching train to border between France & Spain, changing train at border, finding metro train connection & finding hotel & confirming reservations. But this physical relocation coupled with glimpses at/of the changing landscape – the Mediterranean, buildings (Perpignan where we dropped in the hire car and bought lunch – looks a bit like Spain) did not prepare us for the full on blast of sounds, smells, grime, heat and energy of Barcelona – having a ball in its own nightmare.

Michael did a wonderful job of driving 2500 km zig zagging across France on a brilliant itinerary prepared by Karol. All the rooms and meals were lovely and each town had spectacular gifts to share which all contributed to the culture shock of Spain. We were bowled over by the arguments happening all over the place, between passengers and train station guards, women and men, waiters and their bosses. Just bloody amazing and then to add to the tension we had arrived in the middle of the Barcelona festival – a celebration of being Barcelona by Barcelona (a perfect excuse for Barcelonans to say, “I am a Barcelonan and I am proud of it” and they did - with every step they strode out aggressively, with every look sizing you up). And the stress increased by the non-stop stories of the past 12 months that the pick pockets of Barcelona were the best in the world and to watch out because any interaction with the locals no matter how innocuous or innocent could be a set-up for getting your pockets picked – bloody hell. Get me back to France right now – immediately and back to the safety of the myriad thousands of grey power tourists, all ambling along at their jolly own peaceful pace, serenely queuing at their latest tour hotspot – yep France was lovely, peaceful, spectacular and clean with brilliant attention to detail.

Our disposition on arrival after 10-11 hours of travelling was not assisted by the reception at our hotel – the young beautiful woman behind the counter made it obvious that our presence was not to be dignified by her gloriousness and there was a total lack of the graciousness, understanding and friendliness which we had become used to in France (and this manner / attitude was to be experienced again and again – obviously the Spaniards begrudgingly accept the outstretched tourist hand and reluctantly, with a slight distaste, pluck the euros from our fingers). Also it seemed as though the receptionist had marked our score card and apparently we had failed our first test, whether we were worthy human beings or what? And as our balloon gently deflated, they were well and truly flattened as we struggled into the stale, smoky, grimy, bare, dark, smelly, little rooms. OH dear what are we doing here? We all must’ve thought and the dawning realisation that although there was heaps of energy in Spain it was not directed to maintenance and customer service. And no WiFi!

No matter but, we headed out into the darkening streets and the endless throngs of crowds doing La Rambla which was full to bursting with an endless sea of arguing, shouting faces all trying to pick my pocket. But we continued our aimless wandering, got some cash out without mishap, let a doorman talk us into his tapa establishment, had a litre of sangria each, but what was that drumming sound gradually getting louder and louder – the Barcelona festival parade of dragons and groups of drummers of course. There must’ve been about 30 different bands of drummers all dancing to a different beat, fantastic & amazing. So as expected Mary (Connors/Verwey party animal) was out first and I followed after paying the bill which was grossly inflated by Spanish method of creative accounting (I suspect the pick pockets have left Barcelona because the waiters are fleecing their unsuspecting tourists whilst face to face with delightful smiles ) – however, whatever, we watched the whole parade clapping and shouting our approval “BARCELONA IS THE BEST”. We tramped along behind the last float and salsa drumming band to the Placa di Reial where there were fireworks, men, women, children and families (our first rave, haha) AND the Go Team was going to play, but we headed home instead. Where we passed the pimps, prostitutes and porn shops at the corner next to our hotel without mishap and fell asleep.

Sarlat to Carcassonne

Thursday 24 the September

Sarlat to Carcassonne

We had an interesting dinner for our last night in Sarlat. We found a restaurant on the main square. Nearby was a female organ grinder who was pumping out Piaf songs as if her life depended on it. So we took a table and asked about the local specialties. We each chose something that was a house speciality – duck, lamb, beef. The waitress brought mine out first – lamb chops, on a sizzling block of granite and placed it in front of me, but I was horrified to see that the six chops were raw and asked for them to be cooked some more. She said that you cook them yourself! That’s why the plate was sizzling! Karol and Michaell had duck and that too was cooked on a sizzle plate. Different but nice. Dick had beef which the chef actually cooked. We each had a dessert, but half way through his, Dick had an alarming allergic reaction. There didn’t appear to be anything in his dish that he was allergic to, but Karol did ask the waitress who said she had used the same spoon to dish out all the desserts. There may have been something nutty on the spoon. He and I went home and by the time we got back to the hotel he was in a very bad way. Luckily he had an EpiPen, which really helped. He was OK after a while but we were all a bit concerned.

In the morning we set off for Carcassone and drove straight through to the Medieval City. It is an entire castle, church, houses, shops, restaurants that have been restored to reflect its grand past. We had a WOW moment as we approached – haven’t had one for a couple of days. We spent a few hours wandering around the castle, the ramparts, and the basilica, which has some of the most beautiful stained glass we have seen in France.

In the basilica (yes, a pilgrim stopover) a quartet of Russian tenors was singing – wow! The sound these four men made filled the whole church and we had to sit down and listen. We loved them so much we bought the CD.

We stopped at a pharmacy on the way to the hotel and tried to purchase another epipen, but were informed that Dick needed a prescription, and found a doctor nearby who would see us later in the evening. Back to the hotel, quick dinner (even in a hotel in the Zone Industriale we had a fabulous meal – Dick and Michael had cassoulet – local speciality of white beans, sausage and duck, while Karol and I had chicken with seasonal fruits – delicious). We went back to the doctor who prescribed the anapen and then to a pharmacy. Karol has been amazing as our interpreter – we are very fortunate have her!

We went back to the old city which was lit up and looks just beautiful. The castle from a distance is spectacular.

This is our last night in France. We have been thrilled all the way and have been amazed by the beauty of its cities, towns, villages and countryside. The food and wines are fabulous. The churches are incredible, and the chateaux are what I thought I would only see in Fairy stories. Vive La France!

Sarlat-en-Caneda

Wednesday 23rd September

Sarlat-la-Caneda, Dordogne
Another stop on the pilgrims' trail!

We wandered down to the Cite Medieval which was swarming with tourists. It must be horrendous in the high season, because it was very, very busy today. Think of Lorne in January. One saving grace was that all the other tourists were at least twenty years older than us.

There was a market in the market square, and there must be a lot of dead geese and ducks to account for the kilos and kilos of foie gras on sale. What happens to the rest of the bird? Around the town are at least twenty shops specialising in foie gras and other local produce.

Nevertheless we embarked on an historical walking tour around the town. It was very interesting with a mix of medieval and renaissance buildings, many of which are being used as residences, restaurants or Irish pubs.

This is not one of our wow places – perhaps we have been spoilt by quieter and calmer ancient towns and villages. Sarlat is very attractive and if we hadn’t already seen Vezelay or Chinon we may have loved it, but sadly for us, it seems entirely focused on being tarted up for tourists.

Dick thinks he may refocus on calm and serenity by going for a walk in the cemetery.

Sarlat

Tuesday, 22nd September

Driving to Sarlat-la-Caneda

After an early start manoeuvring the car out of the tightest car park and the narrowest driveway in the WORLD, we left Le Puy en Velay. We would have liked to stay longer, but we were to be in Sarlat by nightfall. It’s along way across the mountains of the Massif Centrale. We took our final glimpses of Le Puy from the road side and thought it would be a beautiful place to return to.

We drove on and stopped after a couple of hours at a little village, where a weekly market was on. We bought some pastries from a lovely woman who had an in depth conversation with Karol and Dick about how she was going to Australia. Dick was smiling and nodding enthusiastically and Karol was trying to understand what the woman was saying, but neither were any the wiser by the end of the conversation. We did get some delicious pastries though.

Onward again. We drove through some lovely countryside, stopping briefly for lunch at another quaint village, somewhere.

We approached the Dordogne region late afternoon and saw a sign Gouffre de Padirac. What is a Gouffre you ask. So did we. To satisfy our curiosity we queued up to buy tickets to find out. A gouffre is a large cave or series of caves, well Padirac’s is. We descended 10 flights of stairs (there must be stairs at any attraction in France to make it worthwhile – see yesterday’s blog) to an underground cavern and continued to walk further underground. We got into little boats (tinnies) and were punted along a river to see the most incredible caves in France, perhaps even Europe, although the guide refrained from saying the whole world. We were 103 metres underground and covered more than two kilometres. Stalactites of limestone have been forming for millions of years and one is 735 metres in height. The ceiling of one cave is 94 metres and the drips fall from such a great height that they flatten out and “stack up” like plates. Fantastic.

We eventually arrived at the hotel, Le Madrigal, unpacked and headed down the street to the medieval town for dinner. The local specialities are foie gras and cepes (mushrooms). We had omelettes with cepes and some fried, mashed potato concoction which was delicious, but very greasy. Pictures of geese are everywhere, and we did spot a little farm, with geese honking as we drove by. We stopped to photograph them. It must happen a lot because the geese seemed to flock towards the cameras.

The town looks very attractive, but appears to have been prettied up for the tourists.

Le Puy En Velay

Monday 21st September

Le Puy en Velay

Just when you think it can’t be any more spectacular or beautiful, you are proved wrong. Le Puy is a lovely, beautiful, and picturesque town in the Massif Central, France. Another pilgrimage starting point – we are beginning to think there may be some surreptitious, subliminal religious agenda ....

Nevertheless, the cathedral houses a Black Virgin, no one knows the origin, but she is very important to the town. Also, a Fever Stone - a massive block of stone said to have healing qualities - I touched it with left and right hands, but think I should have rolled around on it to feel really good -

There is a massive statue of the Notre Dame de France built from melted down Crimean War cannons, seized from whoever the French had defeated, erected on top of a very high rock. There were hundreds of steps to reach it, but the trek was worth the effort. The view of Le Puy is spectacular, and you have to marvel at the perseverance of the people who built it, carrying the tonnes of cast iron up the hill during construction. We climbed up inside the statue, more steps again, these thighs will be rock hard by we time we get back, not only glimpsing lovely vistas from the folds of the cloak, but reading interesting graffiti (eg Hanson Forever) and trying to overcome our fear of heights.

From the statue you can see another incredible structure, Chapelle St Michel D’Aighuile, which is situated on top of an extinct volcano. So we set off to have a closer look. There were hundreds of steps, of course. The chapel was built in the 10th century, and was a calm and peaceful haven – and was actually worth the trudge up the stairs. There were ancient frescoes on the walls and ceiling and Mass is still celebrated there each week.

We staggered down the thousands of steps and made our way back to the hotel for a lovely dinner of local produce, including lentils and pork and purple mashed potatoes. Michael and Dick enjoyed the local tipple, Verveine – a bright green fire water. We were all thrilled to see the distillery in the town when we went for our post dinner walk.

Some observations about France:
• School students don’t wear uniforms and all look very chic

French shop assistants are more important than the customer, and the customer should be grateful for any acknowledgment whatsoever, including a sneer
• If there is an inaccessibly high point in the town, they will build a religious monument on it
• The religious monument will be staggeringly beautiful and you will be amazed by the ingenuity and madness of the creators
• French pedestrians have right of way when crossing roads, but not tourists
• Red and green traffic lights seem to be suggestions only
• There is a lot going on behind high stone walls in France – factories, apartments, schools, gardens, life
• Petrol stations are rare
• Between 12 and 3 (sometimes 4) the whole country stops. Nothing is open, including automated petrol stations
• Baguettes are a way of life
• Nothing is worth looking at unless there are at least 50 steps leading to it

Brou, Bourg-en-Bresse

Sunday 20th September

Bourg-en-Bresse

We woke to the sound of the bells of Bourg-en-Bresse which seem to be constantly ringing from one of the three very large church/cathedral/basilica/monastery/abbeys with only short intervals of silence whilst, presumably the bell ringers get their breath and take some sustenance. In London and Liverpool their seemed to be great pride in the fact that they have the largest 13 ton bells, which they have named(Westminster Abbey’s bell is Big Ben) but are only rung on special occasions that is when F sharp is required.

So today was a rest day for Mary and I, whilst Michael and Karol continue digesting rural France. And a day to contemplate this culture: their joire de vivre, live life for the moment, their enjoyment of food, wine, 2 hour lunches, precision engineering, love of words (all the streets here are named after writers, philosophers, saints and leaders). Yet it appears to me that all these emotional attachments & connections are balanced by their reverence for the dead and those who gave their lives for this country. Their cemeteries are very well kept and visited and in every church there are lists of the towns people lost – in Beaune the names were also marked by the word “Resistance” and the knowledge that their hard won freedoms could be lost in a twinkling of an eye. So the French are ever vigilant and their skies are crisscrossed by invisible aircraft/satellites – the only evidence of their existence is the hundreds of jet streams of smoke and steam hatching the sky where ever we have been.

And whilst Mary sorted out the fine details of things, I enjoyed a couple of hours in the royal monastery galleries engaging with a truly enchanting collection of paintings which captured the best probably of art styles in France from 1300 – 1990s. I spent a long time scrutinising the incredible detail and perfect skin tones and colours laid down by invisible brush strokes until about 1870 when suddenly the hand became free and the medium (paint) started to take control. This culminated in the tachiste movement at about 1960 with a bunch of large slabs of colour and marks. It was a perfect demonstration of art history. All for free, as this weekend in France, all galleries and museums had free entry. Can’t imagine how busy Le Louvre would have been!

Just a quiet “catch up” day, time to reflect on our travels so far, do a little research into where we are going, and of course, find another lovely restaurant specialising in the local delicacy – Bressan chicken, washed down with a cheeky little Beaujolais.

Bourg-en-Bresse

Saturday 19/9/09 –

Beaune to Bourg-en-Bresse

We left Beaune early and Michael drove us to Bourg-en-Bresse with a morning coffee stopover at Tournus another ancient town originally inhabited by the Romans upon which another very pretty but enormous light filled cathedral/Basilica/Church/abbey/monastery was built with reliquaries, crypt and Romanesque mosaics. But more important issues were motivating us to keep moving as it was absolutely imperative that we make it to our destination and internet connection ASAP – the mobile phones were running hot with progress scores but we needed to see the Collingwood Vs Geelong preliminary final live and unfortunately/fortunately we did see the second half.

Another lovely room booked by Karol, 3rd floor but with a lift, balcony and great view over the roof tops towards the city centre and 2 huge churches/cathedrals/basilica/abbey/monastery. One observation is that wherever we have stayed in France the toilet and bathrooms have been big and clean and this one is the best so far – brand spanking new with a bidet and separate toilet to boot. The toilet is especially significant for its extremely assertive flushing system. A band of 20 water jets aimed at every square centimetre erupts with the force of a moon shot taking off – yep nothing stands a chance against this piece of plumbing engineering. Which leads me to another observation – French plumbing is particularly fine. The French seem to take pride in making little delicate taps which measure out and turn off water very precisely – voila! yes verily a practical demonstration of finesse.

After the game Mary and I visited the abbey which is one of France’s masterpieces - another light filled enormous soaring floating tower of stone, but filled with the most intricate carving of religious stories and myths in ivory, stone and wood. All breathtaking and again absolutely wonderful and staggering to think it was all done in 32 years and commenced and overseen by Margaret , a duchess of Burgundy in about 1500 - 1532.

Then Mary and I undertook a tourism promotion walk where we had to locate 21 large chook sculptures, all prepared by artists to celebrate the reason why this region is world famous – for their chooks, hidden amongst beautiful medieval buildings all over the town. We were going well and feeling happy until after nearly 4 hours of walking I took a wrong turn that seemed to add an interminable distance onto the end of a tiring day. But our energy was restored over dinner by verifying that the Bresse chicken breast is best, especially with a couple of glasses of Beaujolais, the region’s wine. And another lovely short walk home in the light warm rain.

Beaune, Burgundy

Friday 18th September

Beaune

The morning was wet and grey but not cold. And Hemingway’s aphorism about Paris being a movable feast can certainly be applied to all of France. Today we started with a tour of the Fallot Moutardie (mustard) factory which ended with a tasting of 4 different mustards and small sample pots - which we used on our ham, fromage and tomato baguettes for lunch.

Followed by Michael driving all of us to Chateau de Pommard the biggest and best? Wine maker in the whole Burgundy region and who continues to thrive and prosper from cellar door sales alone. Included in the tour of the wine making process and cellars was a tasting of 4 different wines and a 43% proof spirit, followed by entrance to the Dali exhibition in the chateau’s own gallery (the owner is an art and Dali buff and has some amazing sculptures in the courtyard: an enormous melting clock, a unicorn, St George slaying the dragon, etc.,). The exhibition included small sculptures and prints but did not represent the more contentious, shocking, challenging, controversial aspects of Dali. But the glimpses of the vineyards through arches and giant doorways of the mansion, in the heat of the afternoon were “superb” (the French do incline towards the use of superlatives).
Another aspect of the French psyche we have gleaned is we think there still may be a castle mentality in their makeup. Especially due to the existence of high walls everywhere, through which occasionally as a heavy wooden door opens we catch a scene of a beautiful garden in a courtyard surrounded by apartments, or whole factories which are just not visible from the street.

Then a short nap before participating in a Wine Tasting of three local producers where we may or may not have educated our palates in the appreciation of fine wines, including an understanding and articulation of the wines’ finer points. But we will bore you to death with our expertise when we return.
Then to round off a perfect day we all attended a Jazz concert by two bands: Festen Quartet & Amina Sextet. This was a novel experience for me but I reckon I got Jazz for the first time and it was a lovely walk home at nearly midnight in the warm rain.

Beaune, Burgundy

Thursday 17th September

Beaune, Burgundy

Woke up slowly as nothing was planned really, however we decided to make our own breakfast -baguette and rabbit &/0r 4 fruits jam and a cuppa - just perfect. Then we wandered to the Hotel Dieu (Hospices de Beaune) via very many shops and boutiques all adorable really and prices ranged from 20E to 1,500E for a handbag, the way was also dotted with galleries, antique shops and dozens of wine sellers/cellars/tastings.

The Hotel Dieu was built by the Duke of Burgundy as a hospital for the sick, when the district had fallen on hard times in 1443. Many artists were inspired by the benevolence and contributed major works of art. The masterpiece of which was an altarpiece by Roger Van der Weyden created over 7 years in the 1500s. Amazing detail to the point of painting each thread in the garments, or so it appears. The viewing of this polyptych was assisted by a giant mechanical magnifying glass which a guide controlled and moved as requested. Altogether amazing. This was one aspect of Flemish influence in Burgundy, another was the use of multi coloured glazed roof tiles to makes intricate patterns.

After lunch of ham and pate and terrine and soft fromage on baguettes we made our way via many little shops and boutiques (again) to the Notre Dame Basilica, not as awesome as the St Marie Madeleine Basilica at Vezelay and not as large as the St Lazar Cathedral at Autun but again it had its own unique points of interest: 1/- a beautiful tapestry made in 1500 retelling the story of the birth of Christ and the flight from Bethlehem to Egypt and 2/- reliquaries (bones caskets) of 2 saints whose names escape me (and some “autres” who shall remain nameless). Bit grisly, keeping these unknown relics but why don’t they decompose?.

Mary has just announced she feels she/we might be on a religious tour. We are not consciously looking out sacred sites but rather are drawn to those magnificent marvellous constructions which have been built on/for & by the power of prayer or by on/for & by in service to some other idea. As per the Louvre – a museum to house creations of beauty over the ages, or the fortresses, chateaus and castles built to preserve and protect those in power, over the past 1,000 years. But it is a bit of a mystery how these incredible structures were made – where did this know-how evolve, how was the mathematics and physics behind this architecture calculated, how were all the people involved coordinated and kept on task. Could we build a similar cathedral today using tools & machinery from the 1,000 AD?

Karol found a lovely nouvelle cuisine restaurant where the 4 of us enjoyed a delicious light dinner, beautifully presented with an assortment of flavours and sauces. Then home to an early night as we have a full day planned tomorrow.

Vezelay - Beaune

Wednesday 16th September

Vezelay – Beaune

We had a leisurely start to the day, with breakfast in the Salle a Petit Dejeuner. There was a lovely view overlooking the vineyards in the valley below, and industrious workers beginning to pick the grapes. Idyllic. We headed off to the Basilica before we left, as Michael and Karol had said that they had seen Mary Magdalene’s relics, and Karol did not have a photo as she respected the reverence of the place. So, when Dick and I went into the crypt to see the relics, we had to try and get passed a whole lot of very pushy senior cits, who were madly taken millions of photos, and NOT respecting the reverence of the place. Not impressed by that older generation of tourists at all.

Back into the car, set Madame (Sat Nav) and off we headed to Autun. Autun calls itself the oldest continuous city in France. Another picturesque town, with chateau, fortress, a magnificent 11th century cathedral dedicated to Saint Lazarus – probably with remains in situ, but certainly with relics (not on display) – and a Roman Theatre. We stopped and wandered around the town, paid 0.30 euro each for the WC and had a lunch. Baguettes, of course, but no fromage, instead, a Pate de Lapin, Jambon (ham) in herbed aspic and a ham terrine, bought from a little market in Vezelay. Beautiful. We stopped at the Roman Theatre and tested the acoustics. Very good! Next to the amphitheatre was a house made of stones that were identical to those that made up the tiers in the theatre, and it also had several statues – Roman and later, embedded in the walls. Someone was very enterprising and saved themselves a lot of francs, when they built their house!

We drove on to Beaune, which is in the heart of the Burgundy region, the red wine capital of the world. There are hectares and hectares of vines in every direction. It appears we are here at the start of the picking season and the caves and chateau look very inviting.
We are all looking forward to our degustation of local produce and wine! Our gourmet tour of France continues!

Chinon - Vezelay

Tuesday 15th September

Chinon – Vezelay

We left beautiful Chinon to head east to Vezelay. It was a long, long, journey. We had hoped to go to a “sound sculpture” installation in a cave in Loches, but when we got there, it was not open, and there were vehement warning signs not to enter, because if they did not know we had entered the cave, they could lock it up over night and we could be there for up to 15 hours, no phone, no light, no escape. We took the hint and had a coffee instead. Loches was another very pretty town with a chateau, towers and charming well presented buildings, looking like something Cinderella would be at home in.

Headed off and in St Florent-Sur-Loire, we stopped by its beautiful chateau, situated on the river, and had a picnic lunch – the obligatory baguettes and fromage (cheese rolls). Karol has a theory that a town that attaches its name to a river, as in St Florent Sur Loire, then it is surely a beautiful town. It is a theory that we will be putting to the test. Mary and Karol experienced their first squat toilets (repulsive). For an incredibly beautiful and picturesque town, the toilets really let them down.

Onward again, through some very beautiful towns, such as Charite Sur Loire (theory correct) and some very sad, ugly and suss places, such as Issundun – very industrial, surrounded by some very strange red and white pylons, and seemingly unpopulated by any living creatures. Very strange place.

Travel tip # 1: Petrol stations in France are very difficult to find and when you do, if it is between the hours of 12 and three, they are unlikely to be open. Be prepared to take advantage of fuel stops when you can. We drove quite a long way before we could find a petrol station that was open.
Onward again. Stopped in a little forested area for a nature break – am oak forest – very green and soft underfoot, and possibly growing truffles, although without a pig to sniff them out, we left untruffled.

Onward again, and after 8 hours driving we arrived in Vezelay, in the Borgogne region, central France. Vezelay has an old basilica dedicated to Saint Mary Magdalene. Apparently her body was brought after her death and the church still holds some of her relics. Pilgrims from all over Europe would converge at Vezelay before heading off on the pilgrim trail to Spain and then the Holy Lands. The Crusades were launched from here as well. There are old buildings housing several art galleries, restaurants and shops selling religious artefacts. It is an unusual combination of wealth, art and religion. Perhaps it is not so unusual. We had another lovely meal together and strolled through the old town before retiring.

Chinon - Candes St Martin - Montsorreay

Monday 14 September

Chinon – Candes St Martin- Montsoreay

We planned a more leisurely day, with no attempts to take in the splendour of another chateau. It’s not that we are sick of them, it’s just you need a bit of time to absorb the beauty and the wonder. So we headed off across the Vienne River to “the most beautiful villages in all of France”, as the landlady described, and so did the road signs. That’s a big call, but pretty close to the truth.
Candes - St Martin is nestled between the river and the cliffs of tuffeau stone (type of limestone). The houses are very pretty and beautifully maintained, with flower pots and window boxes full of gorgeous flowers. We wandered around and had coffee in a sweet little place that a charming man had set up for coffees in his backyard and we were invited in to view his “installation” which was a little room carved into the rock and housing collections of knick knacks and books. After the second strongest coffee I’d ever had we wandered back down the hill to a charming old church dedicated to St Martin (of Tours) who actually died there in bout 397 or 897, a long time ago. There were some ancient statues – pre medieval – and altogether a lovely place. More photos of St Therese – for some of you that will be significant! In various locations around the village, there were also three installations of statues depicting a marriage, confluence of rivers and culture (check the pictures). Very interesting.

Lunch was a picnic of cheese and baguettes, by the river and then on our way. Just out of the next village, Montsoreau, was a museum dedicated to troglodytes (cave dwellers, caves and MUSHROOMS). We were unable to pass that sort of exciting combination! The caves were dug out because the stone was quarried to build all the chateux around as well as St Paul’s cathedral, London, and then these fabulous spaces were used by local people to live in. In the late 19th century the caves were used to grow mushrooms, and a local cavalry was located nearby, so a happy confluence of location, supply, need and raw materials was taken advantage of. There are five kilometres of caves growing mushrooms, although we saw just 500 metres. Damp and dark and musty.

Onward again to Sureau, located on the Loire River. This town has a most gorgeous chateau perched up on the hill – looking just like something from a fairytale. We stopped by the river for a photo opportunity, of course.

Our homeward journey took us past the nuclear power station – a thrill for all of us – as we were unable to undertake a tour, due to insufficient advance notice and possibly terrorism. Back to the hotel for a rest before dinner.
Dinner was probably the most beautiful we have had. All local produce, local wines and an excellent waiter. Perfect really.

Chinon & Villandry

Sunday, 13th September, Chinon (of Jeanne d’Arc) – Loire Valley on Vienne River.

This is paradise, what dreams are made of – or are they? A jewel of rustic antiquity, history just oozing at every corner, the weather was perfect ,the giant ancient plane trees rustling in the autumn breeze, the sun slowly warming up a giant river ambling along – as Mary and I started our foray, reconnaissance, exploration, investigation of this town. In order to burn off a few calories absorbed from the superb regional meal last night when as a bonus we learnt the real meaning of the word waiter – s/he who makes you wait . Yep it was a perfect autumn morning the dappled sunlight dancing off, reflecting off, bouncing off white stone leaves and water, an image caught on film a million times before and embedded in our memories of how a perfect day should start and at last we experience it. This is the place and time to be over any other place and time in the world right now immediately, just lovely. Ahh but is it? As we wandered up tiny little laneways between medieval houses and shops which have done more than just stand the test of time, nay the scene has improved with the passing of time – just amazing. And it gets better as we ascend past an old church with new matisse like slabs of stained glass windows from which emanated the voices of a choir practising to the sounds of an organ pumping away. This felt magically, surreally good – almost heavenly as we climbed higher and higher until we looked over the whole township of dark slate roofs pitched at cubist angles against the pale white stone walls bathed in warm sunlight. Too good. But where to now – when Mary reminded me of a large sculpture of Christ or Joan of Arc which overlooked and or blessed the people below. So we continued on our search. Along the way we visited a very well visited and lively cemetery and were moved by the tributes and exhortations against death: ceramic books opened at favourite poems. Stone bouquets of flowers, black granite with pictures of the passed, somehow engraved in photographic likenesses. And the sense of unreality continued to grow. We decided to end out search for the sculpture and head back into town for a coffee break, which we could do now without fear of being caught short as in Paris because this place also has public conveniences. Facilities, toilets call them what you will, ahh at last we were in an area which catered for our age group.

After our coffee and croissants we headed in the direction of the Chinon Fortress and Chateau back up the top of the hill, originally constructed to guard the Vienne River and control the passing trade. On the way up we bumped into Michael and Karol who encouraged us to take out time and have a good look at the battlements and building. And they were amazing. With perfect views up and down the river. But why build a castle with walls 2 metres thick on top of a very steep hill with sheer sides and vertical drops of 30 metres and then also demand a moat – methinks these dukes, barons, kings etc were a might paranoid maybe. And rightly so – because as it turns out someone as saintly as the mythic Jeanne of Arc was actually a revolutionary or counter relutionary of sorts and had to be captured and held prisoner in 1429 in the self same tower we were standing in and yes there is her toilet a hole in the floor with a 50metre drop. So there we have it history coming alive - or does it ? doubt has crept into my mind when I read a board that indicates the tower where Jeanne was held prisoner was rebuilt in 1824, 1904 and 1994(and how many times prior to 1824 i wonder) - then it dawned on me that this whole town has been rebuilt a number of times and that the French have got this tourist trade thing down pat. But all the same this would be a lovely place to retire and totally opposite to Miami.

In the afternoon Michael drove us all about 40km to the chateau Villandry – which a Finance Minister started in 1536 (are you thinking there may be something suspicious – imagine Bob Hawke or John Howard building something as grand as the Windsor for their own private residence with the Treasury Gardens as their own backyard but only 50 times more grand and decorative). It was lovely afternoon and the gardens included vegetable gardens laid out in 9 differing patterns including a labyrinth. There 7 different types of formal gardens in all and large water features and the woods for hunting in and all still in private hands! Then we came home and freshened up before heading out to savour some more of the regional cuisine.

Saturday 12th September leaving Paris

Saturday 12 September

Leaving Paris – arriving Chinon

With some tristesse, we left our lovely Montmartre apartment and headed to Montparnasse Station to take the train to Chartres. At Chartres we picked up the hire car, luckily arriving just a few moments before lunchtime. Had we been any later we would have had a two hour wait in the Chartres industrial estate area for it to reopen. After much negotiation we bravely headed off, Michael at the wheel. Left hand drive, manual car, SatNav yet to be activated and converted to English – the adventure begins!

First stop was Chartres Cathedral – a most beautiful Gothic cathedral in the centre of town. Incredibly beautiful stained glass windows everywhere, and intricate, ornate carved stone work. It was really dark on entry, but our eyes became accustomed to the gloom, and when we came upon the stained glass with the light streaming through, it was very moving. We ate our Parisian baguettes in the square outside the cathedral and had a coffee. A wedding party arrived and we waited to see the bride – she was Vietnamese and he was French – very multicultural and just like home! (except surrounded by 13th century buildings and streets.
Headed off, with some trepidation, Michael at the wheel, Karol and Dick cross checking map references and Mary programming the SatNav, (AKA very Bossy Betty). However the triangulation of maps, satellite, and road signs got us to our destination, Chinon, in the Loire Valley, south of Tours. Joan of Arc began her campaign from here apparently. There is an ancient chateau on a hill, which we can see from our hotel window.

We checked in at our hotel, at the same time as a mini Tour de France group of cyclists, whose arrival, unfortunately, meant that the hotel had double booked, and one couple had to relocate to a hotel down the road. Michael and Karol graciously offered to do so. We settled into a very brightly decorated room – walls of orange, green, brown with a gorgeous purple brocade bedspread. We met Michael and Karol for dinner in Maison Rouge, a very ancient building, in the centre of the town. We had a moist beautiful meal – we think the next couple of weeks throughout rural France will be full of gastronomic delights, beautiful chateaux and at a more leisurely pace than the last couple of weeks.

Paris Day 5

Friday 11 September

Day 5 Paris

Versailles – when too much ornamentation, gold and decoration is not enough! In this amazing palace, every surface was decorated. Completely tizz wozz. The gardens, however, were so sublimely manicured, formal, with perfectly balanced spaces, avenues, groves, fountains and statuary, creating a beautiful foil to the OTT palace interiors. What a way to live, although you can see why the peasants might have gotten a bit revolutionary and thought that there was some mighty imbalance in the way things had worked out, and got up and did something about it. Perhaps Versailles could be considered a magnificent failure.

After Versailles, we slummed it back to central Paris and revisited Le Marais. We met one of the 37 master perfumers of France. He sampled a “Kevin Costner” and a “George Clooney” fragrance on Dick – fragrances of his creation – he is one of the 37 master perfumers of France. And just in case we didn’t understand, he told us again he is one of the 37 master perfumers of France. We wandered around Place de Vosges, another old palace, now in use as residential apartments. We stopped for a quiet moment in the Saint Louis church – very old – and came back to our Montmartre apartment for dinner with Karol and Michael.
Later, we strolled up to Sacre Coeur to take in the view of the sunset over Paris and of course, The Eiffel Tower, glowing beautifully and twinkling on the hour. Mary haggled with a souvenir seller and now has a number of glowing, sparkling, glittering Eiffel Towers in her case. Tizz Wozz to the max.

Our last day in Paris (this time.)

Paris Day 4

Day 4 Paris,

Thursday 10/9/09.

Again Karol and Michael beat us out the door as we prepared for an excursion to the Picasso Gallery and a few hours absorbing the culture around the shops in the Marais district. We have mastered the metro and can nearly get to anywhere in Paris without walking anymore than the few steps it takes to change trains – amazing.

Unfortunately the Picasso gallery closed on 24/8/09 for renovations till 2012! The Marais district was lovely, filthy rich enough to be quiet and serene , formerly housing French royals when they had a bit of clout. But the royals left behind a lovely little patch there castle has been converted to apartments surrounding a park (which the French do very well, parks that is)and 30 or more art galleries including a Victor Hugo museum. Mary was in heaven the shops/boutiques were truly lovely. Polyester is back maybe deep dark olivey, greyy purply colours are the go – Mary nearly bought a coat. But Mary did make a few other exquisite purchases through the day, especially when we crossed onto the 2 islands in the middle of the Seine – the place of the original inhabitants of Paris, 2000 years ago - the Parisis, who amongst their wonderful creations over time included the Notre Dame Cathedral and ice cream – so of course we bought an ice cream (not the Notre Dame).

From the Ile St Louis and Ile de Cite, we walked up to Jardin de Luxembourg – the Parisians sure set out a fine garden – very formal, with lovely paths, fountains, exceptional sculptures, playgrounds and very few public toilets (anywhere in Paris) for all the bars and cafes you’d think there would be more conveniences. The French bladder is tres remarkable.
Dinner at home and Dick and Michael going for a walk after and Karol and Mary eating tartes.
Mmmm.

Paris Day 3

Paris Day 3

Wednesday 9 September
09-09-09

Yep 090909 promised to be a big day with a lot more to digest. And the first observation to be shared is that Sacre Coeur is on top of a hill, overlooking Paris and visible from most parts of Paris, a beacon for Catholics & Christians alike - but within cooee down its slopes is a thriving sex industry (“hey madam, women may enter for free” was the common cry from spruikers touting for business) which compares to St Kilda and Kings Cross Sydney(another yin yang thing I guess and a paradox - why does that happen?). And our accommodation was in the heart of this activity but so were many families and young children all living cheek to jowl in this full on, in your face city.

Eventually Mary and I headed off. Michael and Karol had got an early start on us. Getting off Concord station was another Wow experience as we walked down the Jardin De Tuileries with the Eiffel Tower at our back and a Gold Tipped needle obelisk ( the Tuileries is a big outdoor sculpture park and garden) and the Le Louvre before us. We had an agenda to see the Da Vinci,Tintoretto, Titian, and Watteau which we quickly knocked off our list, with the bonus of seeing Michaelangelo’s Slaves sculpted and held captive in the marble stone, Ruben’s room of maybe 16 huge canvases which were an ode to opulence and baroque grandeur and amazing sculptures including a sphinx, Venus de Milo, a a wild boar, and representations of countries held captive by France when it ruled the seas.

But the highlight was the building itself – which was an attempt to capture the idea that it could house the best of human kind creations over the ages and of course it has failed and all that has survived is what the rich have collected and maintained – but what a magnifique failure. We then had our ham and cheese baguette to give us some sustenance to conquer the Musee De Orsay, and after a stroll through a room full of Cezannes and another room of Monets and another room of Degas and another room of Van Goghs and a wonderful sculpture in marble of a boy crying out in surprise and pain? clutching his foot with a big ant on it we decided to have afternnon tea and a slice of lovely of raspberry tart of course!

Then back to the apartment for a G&Ts and lovely home cooked dinner with Michael and Karol – all Tres Bon! After which we journeyed to the Eiffel Tower, which was a WOW sight all lit up , when we spotted it from our train carriage. But it only gets bigger and better and vindicates Mary’s love - bordering on obsession with sparkling glowing things. Because suddenly the Eiffel Tower went off like a bunch of firecrackers and dazzled us with a display of sparkling flashing lights which left us speechless and waiting an hour for the next show.

Day 2 Paris

Paris Day 2

8th September 2009,
Woke up (first time in Paris France), walked across street and bought a baguette. Had a civilised breakfast with Karol and Michael as one does with all the time in the world, made a few plans and headed off in different directions (we thought we could cover more territory that way – after all we have only got 4 days left to totally digest Paris (Mary and I are almost fluent in French well almost maybe). We took the Metro from Pigalle to the Arc de Triomphe. We were entertained by gypsy musicians, playing a tuba and maracas, after a few songs the woman walked through the carriage seeking tips from the passengers. We may have given them something had they NOT played “When the Saints Go Marching In”.

We have mastered the Metro rail system just as we did the underground in London (the metro wins I think) and headed to the Arc De Triomphe. It was a major WOW moment to see the magnificent , gigantic angel of liberty leading men to war for freedom on one of the posts of the surreally large structure. So the theme for the day was angelic heroines with heaving bosoms, big buttocks and wings. They are all over Paris riding chariots, waving flags, surrounded by men and babies and usually covered in to some extent in gold. So after that was Eiffel Tower via Champs De Elysees and Cartier, Louis Vuitton etc.,.

Yep the Eiffel Tower is a big mouthful but we managed it whilst consuming our home made baguettes with ham and cheese and a couple of boiled eggs. Then we took to the waters and went on a boat tour down the Seine. Where we learnt that Hemingway described Paris as a movable feast – yep got that right as we nibbled and drank some more- we passed under many bridges all which had a bosom or buttock or angel or baby somewhere. Then we returned to the flat for a bit of a tidy up before starting our night-time campaign.

Karol and Michael had planned a special event as part of their 25th wedding anniversary. The first stop was the 6.15pm mass at Notre Dame – a really lovely experience although surrounded by fully clothed angels as we learnt that it was the feast day of the birth of the Virgin Mary. And sunset streamed into the magnificent circular stained glass windows of ageless patterns and stories and myths. After which we headed to the Petit Prince – a quiet little restaurant in the back streets of the Latin Qtr which was recommended to Karol who had booked us in a fair while ago. The dinner and wine was delicious, (Mary had escargots with sea asparagus – Ooh La La!) the surrounding s of old dark wood , red velvet/satin drapes, candle-lights, mirrors, sideboards and good music was best way to end another big day.

Paris

Monday 7 September

Paris
Bonjour!
We left London on the Eurostar, from St Pancras Station – a very fast train and in a couple of hours arrived in Paris. Off the train and straight into gypsy beggars - A bit confronting after England, where the homeless sit forlornly and wait for your generosity to be directed their way. Not in Paris – no standing back, just straight at ya.

We got to our apartment in Montmartre and it is just so Parisian – large windows opening onto a little courtyard, up a curving wooden staircase with wrought iron banisters – very Amelie. We love it.
We explored Montmartre, walking through picturesque winding streets, passing quaint shops, street artists on our way up to Sacre Coeur. We wandered around the Basilica, lit a candle to St Therese and of course, were stunned by the beauty of the church’s interior. Outside the view overlooking Paris was spectacular.
We had dinner at a creperie and returned to Sacre Coeur, joining the crowds looking at the fabulous view, and being entertained by reggae musicians on the steps. A real party atmosphere. The streets of Montmartre are very busy – people everywhere walking, shopping, smoking, eating and drinking, all hours of the day and night.

We know we are in a foreign country now – in England it was easy to see how similar Australia is – how Australia has derived much of its culture from a British culture. Much less here is familiar. Exciting! and a bit frustrating linguistically, although everyone seems to speak English and have been quite patient.
Bon soir, mes amis

Sunday 6 September

Bath to London
We were a little sorry to be leaving Bath, as it is so very beautiful, however, we were returning to London, so not all bad! We checked in at the Tower Bridge Travelodge – cheap and cheerful and great location – and walked from Tower Bridge, along the Thames, to the Tate Modern. The Tate Modern is housed in a former power station – an enormous towering structure right on the river. We have been awed by the churches and castles, but were equally amazed by this transformed industrial building. Soaring ceilings and vast open spaces that house art works by well known modern artists. The collections are housed in “rooms” that display works by one or two artists on a theme. Mary was keen to see the Anselm Keifer – two large walls covered by very large paintings, with an uprooted palm tree lain across the floor. There is an Anselm Keifer painting in the NGV St Kilda Road, that she really likes, which is why she wanted to see another. Stunning. Dick was keen to see Francis Bacon’s work and the Picassos. Jackson Pollock had a couple of paintings there – interesting to compare earlier works with Blue Poles. We liked the collections in the Tate Liverpool more exciting and dynamic, and the food in the Liverpool restaurant was better than in London’s.

We then walked from the Tate to Waterloo Bridge and then back to St Paul’s to meet Karol and Michael for dinner. That’s a long walk! On the way we diverted into a seemingly pretty little garden, but we were rather disconcerted to realise that it was obviously a “special” meeting place for lonely men. We quickly moved on.

We will be sorry to be leaving London, and England, but the sadness should be compensated by arriving in Paris tomorrow.

Bath Day 2

Saturday 5 September

Bath
We visited the Roman Baths – the whole set up is fantastic. The Romans established the baths and a temple to Minerva in about 50AD and used them for about however long they were in Britain. When the Romans left, the baths fell into disuse. They were rediscovered in the 1700’s when the cellar of a house that had been built over the baths area began flooding. Investigations revealed the ancient baths. The complex is quite large, but they think that there is quite an extensive area that spreads over Bath and will probably not be unearthed. The Romans had bathing pools, saunas, Turkish baths, healing pools and incredible plumbing. Amazing. The displays were well set out, with interactive, and CGI as well as static displays. Most of the museums we have visited are well set out, and flow through so that you see everything without doubling back.
There are hand held audio guides to assist the visitors, these were very informative, and Stephen Fry and Bill Bryson provide commentary. Bill had some amusing comments, and doesn’t think the depictions of Minerva make her look very friendly or welcoming. Bill, she is a goddess – she doesn’t need to be friendly to mortals.

A group of Morris Dancers were demonstrating their particular talents. Groups of men aged from teens to 70’s, wearing white shirts and trousers, black hats covered with flowers and ribbons and bells tied around their legs, did a series of dances that were a mix of line, folk and made up moves dancing. Strangely compelling.

The ticket to the baths included a visit to the Fashion Museum – there were displays on corsets, crinolines, swimwear, and Regency, Georgian and Victorian fashion, some accessories. It’s the first of all the places we have been that we haven’t been wowed.

Bath was really busy – thousands of people walking around all day. It’s a bit like a huge movie set, living museum, except that it’s a real city where people live and work and go to school etc. They must get fed up with the thousands of tourists swarming the streets on the weekend. Think of the Show on Show Day. There is quite a large shopping precinct, hundreds of bars and restaurants and of course the beautiful buildings. We wandered up to where Johnny Depp and Nicholas Cage live, but sadly did not see them. Very sad, especially about JD.

Our friends, Michael and Karol, were on a bus tour to Bath and we met them for a G & T before they returned to London. We revisited the Abbey with them.

Friday 4 September

Friday 4 September

Bath
We left Liverpool very early in the morning to make our way to Bath. There were multiple train changes – Liverpool to Strafford, Stafford to Wolverhampton, Wolverhampton to Bristol, Bristol to Bath. The connection from Stafford to Wolverhampton was cancelled which put all the other connections out. It was OK, because there are lots of trains criss- crossing Britain all day. We were challenged by a train manager (Train Nazi we are affectionately calling her) on one of the later trains, who had to go away and check her records to see if we were telling her the truth about our train being cancelled. This was the only time in all the train journeys that anyone asked to see tickets, even as we were leaving the stations.

Bath is such a beautiful city. Every time you turn a corner you a struck by another gorgeous streetscape - Row upon row of beautiful Georgian buildings. We have wandered around the Bath Abbey – very beautiful and the vaults underneath had an interesting display of the history of the Abbey; we looked in on the Pump Room (very Jane Austen ).Then we walked around Bath, looking at the many shops, and then explored of the streets, gardens, river and houses. We will tour the Roman Baths tomorrow.

Thursday 3 September

Thursday 3rd September 2009

Liverpool

We have had a brilliant day, despite the very wet and cold weather. Even Liverpudlians are saying how cold it is. We went to the Anglican Cathedral, which looks really old but it building commenced in 1904 – that was good, because they included lifts to the viewing towers, unlike St Paul’s. We both felt very anxious as we were climbing the bell tower because the noise of the wind was VERY loud; however we persevered and made our way up to the viewing area at the top of the tower to get a 360 degree view of Liverpool. Amazing! I’m sure we caught a glimpse of Ireland.

We were going to go to the Catholic Cathedral, just down the road, but it was just too wet, windy, cold and blustery. My 2 pound umbrella blew inside out, so it was abandoned. Heading off into the city centre we passed some rows of beautiful Georgian terrace houses and quite a lot of derelict warehouses- there is a real mixture of wealth and poverty in Liverpool.
We wandered around the shops for a little bit, mostly because they were warm and out of the wind, before heading off the Albert Dock area, reclaimed and refurbished with galleries, museums, restaurants and shops. The Tate Gallery has an amazing collection of sculpture – Picasso, Dali, Henry Moore, Ron Mueck and fabulous paintings by Freud, Picasso and heaps more. Two floors were devoted to sculpture today and one floor was devoted to sculpture of the human form over the past 100 years. This section was brilliant with gold marble mirrors flashing dance floor music (via head phones) a real walk in installation, disturbingly beautiful.
After lunch in the Tate we joined our Pool of Life Tour. Carl Jung called Liverpool the Pool of Life – a rich melting pot of people and cultures, it being a port city. Our tour was a Beatles tour. Our guide, Phil, is an accredited and registered Beatles guide – what a brilliant job – who was passionate and proud about Liverpool and the Beatles. The tour was advertised for two hours. We started at 2pm and at 7pm Phil dropped us off in Lark Lane – a lovely restaurant area not far from Dingle, which doesn’t have any lovely areas, really. Phil was very entertaining with an encyclopaedic knowledge of Liverpool. He said too that most Liverpudlians don’t like the English; they are looking outwards to the world, not inland towards England! Even the English hate the English. So far we have heard the Welsh, the Irish, the Scots all hate the poms, but we were surprise to hear they even hate themselves.

We visited the childhood homes and schools of John, Paul, George and Ringo, as well as Brian Epstein’s. We stopped off at each place and there were numerous photo opportunities. We drove along Penny Lane, and saw the barber shop, the shelter in the roundabout, the fire station, and we stopped at Strawberry Fields, an orphanage near to where John and Paul grew up. Phil took us to the Church Hall where John and Paul first met and the church yard where Paul first heard John and the Quarrymen play. At the Cavern Club we were taken to the backstage area where Paul played on Dec 31, 1999 and had a couple of drinks, again, to toast the Fab Four. Phil then took us to The Grapes, a pub all the bands frequented as the Cavern Club did not serve beer after 8pm. We sat in the same seats, “the boys” sat in. Here we met a bloke, from Chester, who comes to Liverpool every year for a week – for the Beatles Festival, and then stays on because he loves it. Sadly we missed the Beatles Festival. There are many monuments to the Beatles around Liverpool, but there was very little before 1980. It took John’s death for the people of Liverpool to get things going.

On our tour of 6 people there were 2 Aussies, 2 Mexicans, an ex-pat pom who lives in Sydney and a Korean journalist, who is writing a book. The Korean’s English was a bit limited and he kept asking Dick to clarify what Phil was telling us. The book should be an interesting one with Dick’s interpretations providing an interesting twist.
Liverpool is a great city – beautiful buildings, many, many art galleries, several interesting museums, good shops and of course, significant cultural heritage, especially for Beatles fans. Two days was not enough. I’d like to come back.

Wed 2 September

Wednesday 2 September 2009

London
Travel Tip #1
It is advisable to go to the Shakespeares’s Globe on a day when you have rested sufficiently to withstand a long period standing waiting to enter, a pint glass of Pimms and the bench seats. By doing so you should be able to remain awake for the entire performance. If you intend to enjoy a play at Shakespeare’s Globe, choose one that is a proven to entertain, perhaps not Troilus and Cressida and do not climb 257 steps up and down at St Paul’s on same day.
It is hard to tell if it was the play, the actors or just the end of a long day that caused us both to fall asleep during the performance.
Liverpool
The train trip to Liverpool was fast!

Travel Tip # 2
The budget accommodation in Liverpool may well be an extremely small room (3metres by 3 metres) and you may be well advised to spend a little extra to be able to open your suitcases and remain in the room at the same time.
While the trip to Liverpool was good, the Pineapple Hotel, where we are staying, is not what we expected. It is in a rather poor area of Liverpool and the room is above a “typical” pub, full of characters from “Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels”.
There is torrential rain in Liverpool and it is rather cool. A woman we spoke to said they have had one warm week this summer.
We took the bus into the city centre and wandered around and found the Cavern Club, where the Beatles played. We had a drink, took photos and Mary felt much moved by the atmosphere. There were several people doing the same, people of our vintage and some much younger. The Fab Four hold fond memories for many, and I could see people looking around and wondering about the Beatles and their significance to their lives. I thought of how important they were to me, my friends when we were quite young and how much joy the Beatles music has given us. In many places we entered there is the constant sound of Beatles music and every song we have heard brings a little smile with it. Tomorrow we are doing a Beatles tour.
The Docks of Liverpool area has been reclaimed as a cultural centre, with the Tate Gallery, the Slavery Museum, Maritime Museum, The Beatles Story museum and lots of cafes and shops. There are many interesting and impressive buildings here in Liverpool, as well as the less than salubrious Pineapple in the Dingle. (It looked OK on the website.) I hope the other accommodation I have booked is better.
We had a lovely dinner at a French restaurant in the city centre – the standard English meal seems to be fish and chips or a pie or a curry. In fact when we were out to dinner with Andy, Kristin & family, the Indian restaurant advertised its chicken tikka as the national dish of England.
Early night - Not adventurous enough to join the locals downstairs, as we could end up with tats, multiple piercings and shaven heads.

photos coming soon - just have to sort them!

Tuesday 1 September

London
London continues to enthral. The Underground is fantastic to get around on and the Oyster card is really simple, easy and efficient. We are wondering why Melbourne didn’t just buy it from London, instead of the Myki fiasco.

Anyway – we spent a bit of time planning the next stage of our adventure – trips to Liverpool and Bath – all done. We took the Tube to South Kensington to start the trek to Harrods. On the way we stopped at the Natural History Museum but didn’t go in, the Victorian & Albert Museum and did go in and the Brompton Oratory – a Catholic church – as we have been surrounded by C of E we thought we should also do a Catholic one. You need to record your attendance at Mass every week to ensure the Parish Priest can endorse the application for the children to attend the Catholics schools. Glad we’re passed that one.
Then off to the true spiritual home – Harrods. We displayed appropriate reverence at the Di and Dodi memorial, by not guffawing loudly, and were very moved by the additional ornate display and bouquets of flowers at the front window, as it is 12 years this week since they sadly left us all.

Then we walked to Buckingham Palace. The Palace is open to tours during August and September, and there were no queues, so we thought we would see how it looks, but when we were going to be charged 16 pounds each we decide against it. You’d think the world’s richest woman would be generous enough to let her loyal subjects in for free or at least a token amount. What a cheek. Bring on the Australian republic, I say.

We took the tube around to St Paul’s. It is magnificent. We took the 257 stairs to the Whispering Gallery – that’s a lot of stairs, but we did it. The Whispering Gallery is about half way up to the top of the Dome, and that was high enough to be amazed by the beauty of the architecture, painting, gold leaf, sense of light. We took the 257 steps down and walked around and entered the crypt to see the to the tombs of lots of soldiers and admirals, and Florence Nightingale, Lord Nelson, Duke of Wellington, Turner, Francis Bacon and more. Very quiet, peaceful and reverent.
Back at the hotel now and we will be heading off soon to see Troilus and Cressida at the Globe.

Although it has been just five days in London, I do think Samuel Johnson was correct in saying when you tire of London, you tire of life. Well we are pretty tired physically, but are thrilled by everything we see.

Monday 31 August

Monday 31 August

London

Another BIG DAY!
Attached to the sightseeing b us trip was a free river cruise, so we took advantage of that to get from the Tower to Westminster along the Thames. From there we got a train to Hampton Court. The train passes through Wimbledon – saw some tennis courts, but as they were surrounded by weeds and cyclone wire, I don’t think they were the official Wimbledon courts.
Hampton Court Palace is magnificent.
Every time we went into a room or chamber or courtyard or garden we were in awe. The palace is in several sections, each with a distinctive style. Henry VIII’s was big, and surprisingly light and airy. There were enormous tapestries – so big that if you took the threads in just one of the 40 or more tapestries and laid them end to end they would stretch around the world one and a half times. In Henry VII’s and Anne Boleyn’s time at the palace there was constant building going on.
The next section was built by Charles 11 and another section for William and Mary.
The gardens were beautiful – some very formal, and designed to impress – they did.
We also walked through the Hampton Court Maze and got to the centre and out. Incredible to think that people have been wandering around that maze for hundreds of years, at least we got out in about 20 minutes.
Hampton Court Palace is fabulous.

We got the train back to London and went to Baker Street – 221B of course, then walked along Regent’s Park – lovely and looked at some beautiful Georgian houses, we walked and walked to Lords Cricket Ground to get to St Johns Wood to get to Abbey Road and cross the zebra crossing, just as John, Paul, George and Ringo did. There was a small crowd of people waiting for traffic to pass to take photos of their friends and family crossing the road. Everyone has a go and each of us laughs and feels like a goose, but does it anyway! This was worth all the kilometres we walked. A real highlight.
Abbey Road is fantastic!

We met up with Andy, Kristin and the kids for dinner, and toasted our travels and wished Lucy a safe return home tomorrow.
Great excitement as walked to Andy and Kristin’s hotel – there was a big traffic jam on Tower Bridge Road and at first I thought there had been an accident – no – the bridge was being raised to let a tall ship get through. Don’t see that every day!

It’s still a little unreal to think we are in London – we have both thought at different times, “Oh this is Sydney” but then see a sign that says Tottenham Court Road or Tower Bridge and realise ITS LONDON!

London Sunday 30 August

Sunday 30 August

London

We went all touristy today. Us, and a whole lot of other people in London for the August Bank Holiday weekend. We did a double decker bus sightseeing tour around London – Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, Trafalgar Square, Nelson’s Column, Picadilly Circus, Hyde Park, Knightsbridge, London Bridge, Tower Bridge, Blackfriars Bridge, the Millennium Bridge – lots of bridges. It was a good way to see a lot of places and work out which to come back to.

In the afternoon we went to the Tower of London. Using our London Passes got us into the Tower, avoiding the queues – channelling Anne Boleyn and Sir Thomas More, fortunately we got out again, unlike them. The Tower is a huge complex and has been used as a fortress and castle on that site since Roman times. We thought we’d be there for just a couple of hours, but were there about four and still didn’t see everything. The Crown Jewels were spectacular – some of the diamonds and rubies and sapphires were enormous, not to mention all the smaller ones and pearls and gold that make up the various crowns. On display were the ceremonial orbs and sceptres – so much gold. There was an exhibition of Henry VIII’s armour and weapons, which was surprisingly interesting. People in those days who wore armour and carried swords and lances etc must have been enormously strong, and what about the horses that were covered in armour and carrying the armour covered men.

The Tower buildings are incredible – walls a metre or more thick – and tunnels, and stairs and turrets and rooms that were built almost a thousand years ago in some places, and still standing. It was fascinating to see the places that people in history had lived in. Traitors Gate, and scaffold area were very moving. There is a lovely memorial to all the people who had been executed there – not as many as I thought had been. Usually prisoners were taken to Tower Hill, out of the Tower complex and executed for the general enjoyment of the public and the king of the day, but some “controversial” prisoners, such as Anne Boleyn, Thomas More, Lady Jane Grey, and others were beheaded within the Tower walls, so that it could be done with little public unrest.

The Tower of London is fantastic.

We met up with Mary’s brother, Andy, and his family, Kristin, Lucy, Billy and Declan for dinner. We hadn’t seen them since Christmas day, as they have been living in Wales this year. It was wonderful to catch up, hear about their adventures in Wales and beyond and to see how tall Billy and Declan have become.