Category: Holidays (Page 3 of 19)

The Adventures of Chris and Terry

York and Hull

June 28, 2023 /

The Tay Rail Bridge

14 June – Dundee to York – The train trip to York was definitely one for enthusiasts. For a start, it ran on the Northern Line, the famous route between London and Edinburgh that was the source of much rivalry in the Golden Age of Steam, with the famous Flying Scotsman being the hero. We crossed two huge bridges, both considered engineering wonders in their time. The Tay Rail Bridge out of Dundee crosses the Firth of Tay with a length of 4.43km. It was opened in 1887, after the first one collapsed in high winds, taking down a train and everyone on it. The second major bridge is across the Firth of Forth to Edinburgh, with a length of 3.97km. This iconic cantilever bridge was named voted Scotland’s greatest man-made wonder in 2016. It was no steam train for us, unfortunately, but the new LNER Azuma train was fast, quiet and comfortable.

York Station is a sight to behold. It is the most impressive to date, not for its grand entrance or surrounds, but for the huge arching roof made of beautifully engineered steel girders. When it opened in 1877, it was the World’s largest. Its beauty is enhanced by the long sweeping curve of the platforms.

Views of York, with the rail station at top left

Out of the station, we were faced with the old city walls, dating originally from the Roman era, but mostly built in medieval times. There are 80% intact, and walking along the top from gate to gate is a popular tourist pastime. The walk to our apartment was beautiful, across the lovely stone Lendal Bridge as it crosses the River Ouse and through another gate in the wall called the Bootham Bar. Our first floor apartment was just down the road from Bootham Bar and proved spacious and comfortable. Even better, there was a Sainsbury’s within 100m and the Bootham Tavern even closer We unpacked, bought a few supplies and made our faces known in the tavern. Before retiring for the evening, we took a stroll around the immediate neighbourhood, admiring the many quaint little shops with display windows full of curiosities. It was a terrific location to be in, and a welcome change from staying a bus or tram ride away from the city centre.

The Bootham Bar and city walls. Our apartment is down the street lower left.

15 June – York – The day was spent walking the streets, and city walls. We completed two of the four sections of walls, from Bootham Bar to Monk Bar then later, Lendal Bridge to Mickle Gate. The wall is arranged with a parapet on the outer side and an iron balustrade on the inner side, but there was a long section that had no iron balustrade. Christine did not like this one bit, but was very good about it, and successfully negotiated it without plunging over the side. The great joy of York is discovering charming little shops, many of Elizabethan design, tucked away in lanes and alleyways. The towering York Minster seems to dominate the skyline wherever you are, totally changing in appearance as each new perspective is gained. Our walking app suggested a historical pub walk, and even though we didn’t follow it, we did come across a lot of the really old taverns and inns listed, including the Snickleway Inn, Ye Olde Starre Inne and The Royal Oak. Some of these date from the 15th Century and all purported to have one or more resident ghosts.

Views of York Minster

We were starting to think about lunch when we passed a place selling meals based around Yorkshire Pudding, so we were hooked. We shared a large pudding with pork, potatoes and gravy. To be honest, it was underwhelming. The pork and gravy was delicious, but the Yorkshire Pudding did not meet our expectations, certainly nowhere near as good as my mother’s, which came from my Yorkshire born grandmother.

By the time we were done for the day, we had covered more than 10km and were ready for a break.

16 June – York – We set out a little later in the day than usual, headed for the National Rail Museum, up the hill behind the station. This free entry museum consists of a large covered enclosure that houses a huge railway turntable and various locos and carriages parked on the spokes of the turntable. There are some wonderful trains, dating from a true replica of George Stephenson’s Rocket in 1829 to a Japanese Maglev train. One locomotive that really held my attention was a cutaway, with the insides of the boiler, pistons and firebox exposed to show the inner workings. I love that kind of stuff.

We strolled around admiring carriages and engines, chatting to a few other visitors, including another Aussie woman from Melbourne and generally enjoying a chilled time in a wonderful environment. Apparently, there is often far more to see but a half of the facility was closed for refurbishment. We found enough to satisfy us.

We hopped aboard a cute little “Road Train” that would take us back into the city and drop us at the York Ministry. From there, we walked through to the beautiful Museum Gardens, overlooking the river and holding the interesting ruins of St Leonards Hospital and St Mary’s Abbey. Finally, we headed to the Bootham Tavern to watch a bit of Test Cricket over a pint. There was another Aussie couple from Adelaide, and we spent a terrific couple of hours comparing notes, admiring the Australian batting prowess and sinking a few lagers, before grabbing some food from the Sainsbury’s and heading home to collapse.

17 June – Hull – A trip to the nearby city of Hull was planned to catch up with Sally, niece of a friend in Perth. Officially, Hull is called Kingston upon Hull, the Hull being a river flowing into the large Humber Estuary on Britain’s east Coast. It was about an hour’s train journey south of York. With Sally having only limited availability, we spent the morning exploring the small city. Over 90% of the city was destroyed during WWII, because it was a strategically important port, and so there are relatively few old building of great merit, and quite a few modern glass and steel structures. The two blend together well in Hull, and the central part of the city is interesting to wander through. The huge Humber estuary  and marina areas add interest to the town, although the very low tide left the River Hull as a winding sludgy mud path.

The town has an old quarter, with quite a number of Georgian style houses and commercial buildings. There is also a museum quarter, housing the main Hull Museum, the Street View Museum and the William Wilberforce Museum. All are free to enter and adjacent to each other, making a great place to go if you have the time to browse all three. We only admired William Wilberforce’s home from the outside, lacking time to go in, but his prominent place in the abolition of the slave trade is worth recognizing. The Street View Museum was wonderful, being composed of a series of recreated 19th Century streetscapes and shops, along with a lot of transport pieces from the 19th and 20th Centuries. We wandered the streets and soaked up the charming atmosphere, so quaint and quirky. The reality is that we would have been avoiding horse dung, pushing through household refuse and choking on the highly polluted air, but the presentation of the sanitized view of Victorian life was worth the experience.

The Street View Museum and William Wilberforce

We found the right bus and caught it out to the area where Sally lived, spending a lovely time filling her in on how things are in Australia for her aunt, before she drove us back into the train station for our return to York. Not much more remained of the day other than another trip to the Bootham Tavern, where we were in danger of being called regulars.

York has been one of our favourite British towns to date, partly because of the excellent location of our accommodation. There is so much to see and admire and so many wonderful little nooks to explore it is a must for any traveller to England. Tomorrow, we move to Newark on Trent.

Dundee, Perth and St Andrews, June 2023

June 20, 2023 /

June 10 – Inverness to Dundee – We had a bus trip booked to Inverness, the same bus that we had caught up from Glasgow then a change at Perth for a relatively short haul to Dundee. We had a wait of a couple of hours between having to vacate the lodgings and catching a bus so we just wandered town, finding different spots to stop and sit. We chatted to a few others in similar circumstances, an Austrian chap off a cruise ship and a woman who lives on the mainland over-looking Skye. She remarked how some of her neighbours who are dependent on rain water are starting to run low. We didn’t get to actually see Perth, because the intercity bus station is some distance out, so it was marked down for a visit later. The scenery was a repeat of before, so it was very much a doze and listen to music trip, most relaxing.

Once again, we had a place that was in the suburbs, meaning a #28 bus trip. We are getting quite good at these now and don’t feel quite so self-conscious about hauling luggage onto a crowded commuter bus. Everyone is very helpful and kind. We just join in with the prams and wheelchairs, standing up and hanging on for grim death. A ride through Dundee didn’t fill us with wonder at the grandeur of the place. It appeared as a mix of semi-grand, plain modern and squalid. Our estate was worse. The flat was nice enough, two big bedrooms and all the necessaries, but the area was unkept, and the street rubbish was terrible. To be fair to the residents, the rubbish wasn’t thrown around, but spilled out of rubbish bins. I don’t know what the collection pattern is but it obviously is not enough, and the cats and foxes raiding bins adds to the issue. It seems to be a problem throughout the UK. We didn’t see any untoward behaviour or hear anything bad happening but it looked like something out of an episode of The Bill. Ah well! What we did notice on the bus was a notice that strike action would commence in two day’s time, cutting some lesser routes out and putting the rest on Sunday timetables, with nothing at all after 7pm. This would continue until further notice. It may prove to be a nuisance but it doesn’t come as a surprise. Prices are going through the roof in the UK and it will be certain that wages haven’t risen to match.

June 11 – Dundee – A bus trip into Dundee was in order. Not being used to any rain, we walked the 150m to the bus stop, but as we waited , the rain started coming down. Christine at least had a rain jacket, I had a cotton pullover that would be ghastly when wet. We headed back, dried off and repacked, this time with umbrellas. It proved to be a wise move. By the time we got into town, the rain was continual and moderately heavy. Few people seemed to have planned for it and there were some very uncomfortable looking people.

The bus let us out at Albert Square, a beautiful part of town with the museum as a centrepiece in the square and a glorious stature of Queen Victoria, in her later and heavier years. We walked down through the town following largely pedestrian streets and revised our opinion of the city. There are some pretty parts and some buildings of merit after all. Near the harbour, is the polar expedition ship Discovery, which was used on a voyage of Antarctic exploration in 1901-04, with Ernest Shackleton and Robert Falcon Scott amongst the explorers on board. We have been on board enough famous ships now to be content with a view from the outside. The nearby ultra modern building proved to be the V&A Museum (Victoria and Albert), a name which evoked images of displays about their life and times. However, it was a textile and design museum, not quite our cup of tea, but we did spend some time with the counter staff who gave us some tips on what to see and do, including advice about getting to St Andrews.

The V&A textile museum and Antarctic ship Discovery

We walked on through the rain, worse at times, until heading for a Greggs to get a cup of tea and a sausage roll. Greggs is a chain of fast food cafes that has 2,300 locations around Britain. We need it in Australia. You can pop in, buy a tea or a range of coffees, grab a pastry snack or sandwich and not lose half a day’s wages in the process. The food is as good, in some cases better, than the café across the road that charges ridiculous prices and they always seem to have enough staff that one is not left waiting for ages for a coffee to be made.

Emerging from the Greggs, we made our way up to The McManus, home to the Dundee Museum and Gallery, spending a pleasant hour browsing the displays and some lovely art pieces, especially in the Victoria Gallery. It helped that we now knew many of the scenes of the Highlands that the paintings depicted. We may have been more than an hour, because by the time we left the museum, the rain had ceased and the ground was almost dry again, the sun breaking through. We continued to wander town before finding a Tesco, then heading back to the apartment.

The McManus

Views of Dundee

June 12th – Perth – Today we caught a train to Perth, a trip that only takes 20 minutes or so. We had anticipated problems getting a bus into Dundee due to the planned strike, but just as we walked up to the stop a bus appeared. As we walked through the city, we passed a group of strikers, holding their placards and getting lots of toots in support from passing motorists. We got onto the train and were soon in Perth.

As the train crossed the River Tay, the city was presented at its best with a beautiful river frontage, stately stone buildings spanning the riverfront between the rail bridge and two road bridges.. We left the station and wandered down around town, which is small in area. There are a few squares and walking streets to wander through and some nice alfresco cafes to choose from. We picked one to stop for tea and scones, luckily sitting under an awning section, as the rain came down shortly after, sending other people scurrying. The shower was short and the sun re-emerged.

Perth on the River Tay

Our walk took us to the river and over one of two road bridges, stopping to watch a group kayak up into the fairly strong current. On the other side of the river, a beautiful riverside garden lead upstream to the other road bridge, making a pleasant walk.

We only managed to find one store that sold tourist items, and then very little. Christine wanted a T-Shirt that said “Perth, Scotland” as a curiosity. The one tourist store had one design that said Perth, all the rest just said Scotland. I guess Perth tourism isn’t booming.

Around Perth

T-Shirt secured, we headed back to the train and Dundee, a relaxing and easy trip. That makes our 3rd Perth, having also been to the one in Tasmania. There are quite a few left in the World to visit.

The Tay Road Bridge

June 13th – St Andrews – It’s a pity neither of us play golf because today we headed to the birthplace of golf, St Andrews. We took the #99 bus, crossing the amazing Tay Road Bridge, which, at 2.2km, is one of the longest in Europe. It is interesting to see observe that on the intercity buses, almost no-one wears a seatbelt, even though they are fitted. The recent news from Australia of the wedding bus crash showed the importance of wearing seatbelts on buses, so we always belt up. In fact, we even get on trains and feel awkward when there is no seatbelt. The bus raced across the winding road at breakneck speed, making the feel of the seatbelt comforting.

The countryside was interesting enough, with some of the barley even starting to show signs of ripening. There were a lot of potato fields as well. The final approach to the town is alongside golf links, including the famed Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St Andrews, that ruled the game up until 2004. There are five courses in all, and plenty of people out in the beautiful summer sunshine.

I had always thought that St Andrews was the name of the golf course, but it is actually a town of some 17,000 people and is primarily a university town the institution being established in 1410. In 2022, the University of St Andrews was ranked as the UKs best. It is impossible to miss the complex when in the town, its buildings dominate the streetscapes. Today was graduation day and the streets were filled with young people in academic gown, lunching with proud parents and looking like gearing up for the forthcoming Graduation Ball. We wandered the town, admiring the grand building and the quaint; there were more of the latter. Once in the University zone, we stepped inside a courtyard of the University, which was filled with young grads, mums and dads and professors.

Around St Andrews

St Andrews has an aquarium, which also houses a population of meerkats and a pair of marmosets, an odd combination but they are also into animal rescue. The aquarium side of things has local cold water fish on display and it was interesting to see live examples of the things we had been eating, such as Atlantic Cod and Haddock. They also had a tropical area, filled with all kinds of interesting fish, including some big piranha.

Atlantic Cod )top) and Sea Bass (bottom)

We joined a group of school children to watch the resident harbour seals being fed. These have all been born in captivity, except for one which was born a bit of a runt and abandoned as a pup. There behaviours were explained and demonstrated and it was interesting to see that they often swim upside down, part of their prey being bottom dwellers such as crabs and lobsters, and looking down makes hunting easier. A single large gull joined in the feeding and was extremely adept at getting to the thrown sprat before the seals. It was a wonder it could still get off the ground.

After the seals, the meerkats were fed. They are fed with live crickets, a whole bunch being released into the enclosure. The meerkats searched them out and pounced on them like I pounce on a Cornish Pastie. They actually have quite poor eyesight, which is why they are continually moving their heads, trying to focus. It was amusing because the watching crowd could see crickets on the rock outcrops with meerkats passing close by and missing them. Eventually, the score was meerkats 100, crickets 0 but it took a while, and is good exercise for the meerkats, if not the crickets.

The marmosets are a pair that were rescued from a private collector. Apparently, they were quite badly behaved when they first arrived, but with a consistent approach, their manners have improved. They don’t turn around and expose their bottoms at people quite as often. The species hails from South America and simply ooze cuteness. They are fast and nimble in the trees and don’t seem to stay still for long. Later in the day there would be a penguin feed but we contented ourselves with an explore of the aquariums before heading off and back into town.

Skink and Haggis Bonbons

A cute little pub attracted our attention for lunch. Christine had been keen to try a local dish called Skink, which sounds like a genus of lizard but is actually a type of fish chowder with smoked haddock and potato. I was equally excited by the haggis bonbons. Both proved excellent, although I can tolerate smoked fish in small amounts so I was glad a stuck with the haggis. Of course, the beer went down well. The pubs in the UK sell some terrific cheap food, usually have loads of ambience and are a fraction of the coast of cafes and restaurants. They must make a go of it because in some towns you can stand on a street and see four pubs within a stone’s throw of each other.

We left the golf shops and graduates behind and headed back to Dundee and the apartment (after a 40 minute wait for a bus that is usually every 15 minutes). Reflecting on our visit to Dundee, it has not been the best city on our tour by a long way, but it has provided a good base for visits to Perth and St Andrews, both of which are well worth the visit. It will be nice, however, to go to a city where rubbish collections are effective. Tomorrow, it is back to England and a stay in York.

Inverness, John O’Groats and Skye, June 2023

June 19, 2023 /

5 June – Glasgow to Inverness – Our path north to Inverness was by coach, the first we have used in the UK. We travelled with a group called Stagecoach, through Megabus, and it proved to be just as comfortable as the Flixbus we had used on the continent. One downside is that that don’t have a seat booking system, so there is a bit of a bun fight on boarding, but we fought well and bagged the upstairs seats at the front to command a good view.

I was looking forward to the trip for the scenery, and it didn’t disappoint. The road lead back to Stirling then north to Perth, where we changed drivers, before heading on to pass the beautiful mountain of Blair Athol and skirted the Cairngorms. The National Park that covers the area is a popular hiking and mountain bike destination, with snow sports during the Winter, so the small towns we passed through were very sports oriented and quite crowded with tourists.

When we arrived at Inverness, our first impressions were not positive. The entry was via the industrial area, not extensive, with the only real industry being barley malting, but lacking visual appeal. We got off the bus, gathered our luggage and headed off through the middle of the town, which is far from big. It didn’t take long for our first impressions to be turned around, the quaint streetscapes and charming restaurants and pubs soon winning us over.

Overall, Inverness has around 40,000 people in the centre with another 40,000 outlying. Unlike Manchester and Glasgow, our accommodation was very central, just over the River Ness via the “Bouncy Bridge” one of three pedestrian suspension bridges built in the 1880s. They are called bouncy because it only really takes a regular heavy pace to get the whole bridge moving, which must be quite something after a night on the town. The river is fast flowing and shallow, and can be a productive salmon river at times. Our apartment is a single floor of an old stone building and is one of the better ones we have had so far, given the location, comfort and general ambiance.

The ‘Bouncy Bridge’ and our cute little house.

We had time to settle in and head down to the local Tesco for supplies for dinner. Coming home and realising that the beer was warm, we made the decision to try out the local pub, the Waterfront Pub. It is a very popular place for dinner, and a glance at the menu told us why. We promised ourselves another visit.

6 June – Inverness – We spent a good part of the day exploring Inverness, completing a walk of the town using the GPSmyCity App. There is a mix of the old and new, although nothing in the way of actual high-rise buildings. We did come across the oldest building in the town, Abertaff House, built in 1593. The Victoria Market is a beautiful 19th Century arcade filled with interesting shops and old world charm. The walk was relaxed and easy, after the crowds of Glasgow and Manchester. The whole town has a wonderful feel to it, the kind of place people might retire to, a thing which appears to be a thing, at least in some of the outlying towns. Even the traffic was more relaxed and some streets had empty parking spaces, a rare sight in other cities.

After lunch, we headed out again to walk along the banks of the River Ness. We passed the Inverness Cathedral and the Arts Centre, enjoying the relative warmth of the fine weather. I say relative because one minute it can be warm enough to convince you that the jacket needs to come off and the next minute a couple of gusts of icy wind tells you otherwise. It is not the place to go out unprepared. A brewery and distillery drew our attention and the presence of an outdoor area sufficiently sheltered from the breeze coerced us into a lager. Unfortunately, it was the first beer we had tried in the UK that was not to our liking, being a bit on the bitter side. All that meant was it took longer to drink it.

7 June – Dunrobin Castle and John O’Groats – Today was the first of two consecutive days of 12 hour tours. What possessed us to do that? We actually booked them way back in January, sources suggested that such tours book out very early. This was probably true because both tours were fully subscribed. If memory serves, back at the time, we did not have the option of booking with a day in between. Unfortunately, my advice to anyone booking tours of the Highlands is to leave it until there is a weather forecast available, even though the locals say forecasts are always rubbish anyway. There are stories of tours driving through heavy mist all day, with the passengers seeing nothing.

Our first tour was north out of Inverness along the north-east coastline to John O’Groats, often said to be the most northerly point on the British mainland, although that claim can actually be taken by the nearby Dunnet Head. Inverness sits on the Moray Firth, and we crossed that via the beautiful Kessock Bridge. The bus skirted Cromarty Firth through Invergordon, once the site of a large naval base, then the base for the construction of huge north-sea gas and oil platforms. As the fossil fuel industry declines, the base has turned more to the manufacture and servicing of wind turbines, hundreds of which dot the northern Scottish coastline. It’s good to see how a town can keep reinventing itself and a sign that closing down fossil fuel based industries may not mean the end of industry.

We stopped for morning tea in Dornoch, a beautiful little castle village, with some lovely stone buildings, castle, church and gaol to cover all bases. We stopped at the churchyard, where a sign told of the vibrant monthly markets that used to be held amongst the grave-stones, until a band of feral pigs started digging up the bodies and the yard had to be walled off, making the market impractical. It’s stories like that we need to keep small town tourism alive.

Dornoch

The next stop of the famous Dunrobin Castle. More like a palace than a castle, the amazing Disney-like structure has been the summer residence of the Duke of Sutherland since the late 18th Century. The name is tainted in the eyes of some Scots because the first Duke was responsible for what is called the Highland Clearances, when the clans were forced off the land by raising the rents. The vacated land was stocked by the large land owners with sheep, and the inhabitants forced to settle on the coast to fish, move to the industrial cities further south or emigrate to places such  as America or Australia. The Duke did not hold the same poor opinion of himself, erecting a 100’ statue of himself on the highest hill in the district to overlook everything. Despite the dubious politics of the day, most of the advances in the area that brought a more modern way to the Highland areas seem to have their origins with the Duke of Sutherland.

From the carpark side, the castle looks impressive, although much like many others. It is from the other side, which overlooks a huge formal garden styled like that at Versailles, that the true magnificence of the building can be seen. There are four stages to the structure, dating from the 14th Century keep, now deep within the main building, to the ornate outer structure which was built between 1835 and 1850 by Sir Charles Barry (rebuilt Westminster Houses of Parliament in London). It is now open to the public as a museum of the lives of the Sutherlands in the 19th Century.

All rooms are laid out beautifully, with ornate table settings in the grand dining room, an amazing collection of old books in the library, a most wonderful nursery packed with games and toys that, I am pleased to say, would have been museum pieces when I was a child. As you move throughout the castle, you can’t help but notice that almost every wall carries portrait of members of the Sutherland Clan. Some are done by noted artists and a very large and very beautiful. The other things covering the walls are stag heads, most with plaques bearing the names of the people who killed the creatures and the date. Most carry ten point antlers, with a few having twelve points, true prizes in the stag shooting world. To be fair, the deer do need regular hunting in these parts. If the numbers are allowed to grow unchecked, the damage to the environment is heavy, as they will eat the tree saplings and prevent forest growth.

We moved through the castle, surely one of the best museums of Victorian upper crust life anywhere. Out on the rear balcony, we admired the formal gardens below, spread out between the castle and the waters of Dornoch Firth, before tackling the long walk down, via steps and steep gravel pathways. The ladies of the 19th Century would probably have made do with the view from above, the trip down being so difficult in the heavy full outfits of the day.

Harris’s Hawk

We made our way to an area at the rear of the gardens set up with wooden benches facing an open lawned area. On the other side of the lawn, we could see the aviaries for the hunting birds, some falcons and hawks. A number of perches were set up around the area and two birds were brought out, one at a time. The master falconer explained how hawking had been very popular in times past and a genuine way that the poorer people could access game meat in the form of rabbits, hares and grouse. A man could get permission to trap a hawk and the Duke allowed hawking in the and around the forests. The hawk brought out was a species from New Mexico called a Harris’s Hawk. It flew from perch to perch and back to the keeper’s gloved hand, taking small pieces of meat as a reward. A young boy from the audience was chosen to run across the field, dragging a lure behind to illustrate the hunting method of the bird, which takes game from the ground rather than the air as falcons do.

Gryfalcon

The second bird was a gyrfalcon from Siberia, the largest of the falcons. Falcons have shorter legs, more streamlined wings and hunt in the air, taking birds as prey. It was a striking bird. The keeper exercised it by swinging a lure around his head, the falcon making continual attacks. The speed and aerial agility of the bird was amazing.

A video of the falconry display can be seen at https://youtu.be/Dg8c2II7BSc.

With time running out, we had to leave the birds and get back to the bus. Having been quite ho-hum about yet another castle, the visit had turned out to be a highlight.

The bus pushed on north stopping briefly at a spot in Loch Fleet to watch a large group of seals flop around on a sandbank, before taking the A9 towards John O’Groats. The A9 soon lost its dual carriageway status and became a good two lane road with excellent traffic flow, before eventually turning into the A99. At Reis, our driver Alex announced that he would try a new route, heading inland, taking the B876 to the north coast then turn east to John O’Groats. This would let us see some different country rather than seeing the same things as we travelled north then back down the same way. It sounded fine, although he admitted he had not done it before. All went fine, until half way up to the coast, his GPS advised him to turn right. He followed instructions, to find himself in the same situation as us when driving a one lane hedged road in Wales. It was crazy. The road was so narrow and quite rough. There was a surprising amount of traffic to deal with via pull-overs. I imagine some of the traffic was also caught by Google’s ‘shorter is better’ approach to navigation. We followed the route on our own Google Maps and could see no real reason why we were doing what we were doing. There were even chances to get back to the B876 but we stuck to the tiny back road. The scenery was not even worth it; high rolling hills with little more than gorse and heather covering them was our reward.

Eventually, we emerged onto the coast, got a brief glimpse of Dunnet Head, the true most northern point on the mainland British Isles, then drove on a short distance to John O’Groats, quite perplexed as to why we had just suffered 40 minutes of being bashed around in the bus. John O’Groats is hardly a town, more a village with little purpose other than hosting tourist buses and ferry access to the Orkneys, visible not far off-shore. We were lucky to actually see the Orkneys. Most people who come here see little other than driving rain or thick fog. We had ideal conditions, including a glassed-out sea, which allowed us to see the tidal races and swirls that the area is famous for, as the big tides of the North Sea hit those of the Atlantic. It looks like a place every bit as dangerous as the waters off the Kimberley coastline in Australia.

John O’Groats

Alex had told us there was a good fish and chip shack overlooking the point. Unfortunately, with our extended drive through the back country, we were quite late and just as we walked up, savouring a bit of cod and a serve of chips, the woman closed up, giving us a look that said “tough luck, I’m out.” We looked around the other café offerings and settled on lentil soup and bread, our bodies thanking us for the sacrifice (actually, it was delicious).

We set off again, Alex seeming to understand that the A99 is not the enemy, and we drove to Duncansby Head, a high and spectacular cliff area known as a seabird roosting area. The hope was that we would see some puffins. Everyone set off along the track that hugged the cliff tops to a deep long crevasse, called the Geo of Sclaites, that ran several hundred meters into the cliff. The scenery itself was worth the visit, and the sight of all the sea birds pouring up and down the crevasse, swimming in the water or roosting along the cliffs made it all the better. We got quite excited thinking we had seen a large number of puffins below us, but some watchers raised doubts when they pointed out that they did not have orange beaks as puffins in breeding season have. A check on our “Birds of Europe” App showed that they were Little Auks, closely related to puffins. No puffins; auks would have to suffice. Christine decided that she had walked enough and stayed at the crevasse while I went on for a bit to look down on the spectacular Duncansby Head Stacks, a couple of offshore chimneys.

The bird watching done, it was the start of the long drive back to Inverness, with a stop at Dunbeath, a small harbour that used to service a herring fleet in bygone days. We got back to town at 7:30pm, making it an 11 hour tour, interesting enough with some marvellous scenery, but tiring all the same. Quite done in, we headed to the Waterfront Pub for dinner, only to find that we needed a booking, the place being packed to the hilt. We made a booking for the next night and trudged home, thankful that we at least had the makings of a meal in the fridge.

8 June – Isle of Skye – It was like waking to an alarm after a night on the town. I really didn’t want to get up, but it was another early start with a 7:45 tour scheduled. We were seriously questioning why we had done this to ourselves. We stood in line at the pickup spot, the same place as yesterday’s start. Christine looked like she wouldn’t cope, until the bus arrived and the driver showed himself in his kilt. She noticeably perked up, along with all the other females in the queue. I wasn’t sure what the fuss was about but there was much fanning of blushing faces going on.

The driver, Luke, proved to be quite the showman, having been a DJ in a past life. Despite the kilt, he was a Londoner, but had come to Inverness about 6 years ago and taken to the tour guiding business. He was one of the best, lots of fun and full of knowledge. He did a roll call and came up one short, so we waited for a bit until a young American girl named Ashley arrived. Luke berated her, in a friendly banter kind of way, and she showed her mettle by giving as good as she got, then it was off. Ashley had to sit in the only seat left, in the front next to Luke, which upset al the other ladies on the bus. He pointed out that his name was Luke, that we were going to Skye and that we would be doing lots of walking so her dubbed himself Luke Skywalker. Ashely was appointed assistant and dubbed Princess Ashleia. It was like a setup, but it was all adlib stuff. Ashely proved to be from Michigan and on a week’s visit to Scotland, having just landed the night before. She was good fun.

We drove down the length of Loch Ness, hearing some of the stories surrounding the ‘monster’ and the way photos and sightings have been debunked, but the myth is an economic boon for the region. We saw the ruins of Urquart Castle, near where the original 1934 photograph of “Nessie” was taken/fabricated. The road took us through the Great Glen, a wondrous huge valley carved out by glaciers in the last ice age, before leaving and travelling along the shores of Loch Cluanie, a man-made loch resulting from a hydro-dam. Then it was into Glen Shiel, with its towering walls, an even more spectacular drive than the Great Glen. We passed the site of the battle of Glen Shiel, when the Jacobites and some Spanish marines were defeated by the British in 1719.

Driving through LochNess (top) and Glen Shiel (bottom)

Our next stop was another castle, possibly the most photographed in the Highlands, Eileen Donan Castle. Built in the 13th Century to guard against the Vikings, it was a strategic point during the Jacobite uprisings in the 18th Century. The Jacobites holed up there, until the British Navy sent a couple of frigates to bombard it in an attempt to reduce it to rubble. The canons failed to have much of an impact but the castle was stormed and over-run, the 343 barrels of gunpowder in the armoury doing what the cannons couldn’t do. It remained as a ruin until the early 20th Century when it was reconstructed from the ruins. Its island setting makes it a real magnet for photographers and it makes an appearance on calendars and jigsaw puzzles around the World. We elected to admire the castle from the shore, not wanting a tour inside and not wanting to pay to simply cross the bridge.

Eilean Donan Castle

We didn’t think the scenery could get any better, but we hadn’t counted on the sheer beauty of the Isle of Skye. I had always imagined that Bonny Prince Charlie had a lengthy voyage as he was carried away over the seas to Skye on his escape from the British, but it is a rather narrow channel in reality, although the tidal currents make it tricky. These days, there is a bridge and so we were onto the isle with little fuss. The island has it all. At 100kms long, it is Scotland’s second largest island. It has a varied history of settlement, being inhabited by Celts, Picts and Scandinavian Vikings, being under Norwegian ownership up until 1266. Volcanic cores form the dominant mountains called the Cuillins, one formation being made of dark rock and called the Black Cuillin and the other a more reddish colour known as the Red Cuillin. We were lucky to have the perfect weather continue and we could see the mountains in all their glory. We drove through areas of thick deep forest, cleared farmlands and more open, heather covered hills. Due to the influence of the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf Stream, Skye has a milder climate than the mainland, with snow being rare other than on the peaks.

The Cuillins

Our first stop on the island was a picturesque spot called Sligachan Old Bridge, where a beautiful old stone bridge spanned a series of low waterfalls. The falls were unspectacular due to the lack of recent rain. The pools are called the ‘Fairy Pools’ because it is well known that fairies attract more tourists. Rather recent (as in the last decade or so) folklore says that washing your face in the water for 7 seconds will bestow everlasting beauty or holding your head under for 30 seconds will grant immortality. It was a shame the water levels were so low. Probably more relevant is that it was the site of a major battle between the clans MacDonald and MacCleod in 1601. Hopefully, those involved in the battle had held their heads under the water for 30 seconds prior to attacking.

We stopped for lunch in Portree, the major settlement on the island. It is a town that thrives on tourism and hospitality and, as often is the case when tourism pressures a town, the standard of service falls. This was the first example we had found in Scotland of poor service and disinterested workers. Still, we found a soup and bread meal in a pub and satisfied our needs.

Portree

The tour pushed on past a mountain with an unusual formation called ‘The Old Man of Storr’, stopping for the obligatory photos and again at the Rigg View Point, offering spectacular views along the high cliffs.

Old man of Storr at bottom

Skye would be a wonderful place to stay for a few days with your own transport, to fully explore and appreciate what the island has to offer. A visit of only a few hours has left a lasting impression.

The drive back was long, but still full of interest, because the spectacular scenery could be viewed from the opposite perspective. Luke and Princess Ashleia kept us entertained with a quiz and music requests, keeping most of us awake and amused, no mean feat after such a long day. We rolled into Inverness around 7:30pm once again, not quite knowing how we would cope with a long bus trip to Dundee the next day. Just as we neared the end of the tour, a check of our itinerary produced the wonderful news that we actually had an extra unallocated day in Inverness, and would not be travelling south the next day. A sleep in and a day off. Bliss!

9 June – Inverness – We slept in, as we had promised ourselves, and spent the morning doing very little. About 11 o’clock, we thought it was time to get active and went for a leisurely wander across the bridge to town and continued to walk, without any real purpose, just soaking up the ambiance of this pretty little city. It is so easy to explore after the hustle and bustle of places like Manchester and Glasgow. We had a few options, and could have caught a few buses to other attractions, but we were done for the moment.  We would regain our energy in Dundee, our next stop.

 

 

Glasgow, Sirling, Edinburgh, June 2023

June 13, 2023 /

June 1 – Manchester to Glasgow – Our biggest concern about our planned train trip to Glasgow was the looming possibility of strikes. With a big weekend of events on the horizon for Britain, including a Manchester City vs Manchester United FA Cup Final, both Cold Play and Elton John concerts in Manchester and a number of other big festivals planned, the rail unions had upped the ante. The industrial dispute has been going on for nearly a year, with little sign of a resolution. We had a ticket booked with TransPennine Express, and no strike action against them was listed for June 1st, but we have found things can change. We were very relieved when the train pulled in.

We had table seats and two young local girls sat opposite us. One immediately began to apply copious amounts of stuff to her face. To be fair, she was very good at what she did, although possibly lacking the underlying structures of a Vogue model. However, it was quite off-putting to have someone right opposite you opening all manner of creams and applications and painting patterns on their face. One doesn’t want to stare, so around 90 degrees of our immediate vision span was out of bounds.

Our route took us through some beautiful country, with the Lake District on one side of the train and the Pennines visible on the other. As we crossed the border into Scotland, even the vegetation started to show signs of change, with the tops of the hills being bare of trees and showing patches of gorse and heather. We passed through Carlisle and on into Glasgow, arriving at Glasgow Central. We had already worked out that we needed a #4 bus to our accommodation in Broomehill, once again, a bit of a distance from the city centre, although not as far as our digs in Manchester.

Finding the bus stop was easy, and we managed to purchase tickets. After that, it was hard to work out whether the Glasgow road surfaces are in an appalling state or whether the bus completely lacked any form of suspension. It was a bone shattering ride. The route took us past the University of Glasgow and westwards towards the areas that once housed the many workers of the Clyde ship building industry, one of the mainstays of the city in years past. When we alighted in Crow Rd, we were greeted with the beautiful sight of a long streetscape of beautiful Victorian sandstone faced buildings, once tenements housing the working class, but now privately owned apartments, and worth considerably more than there were. Our host, Arthur, was waiting for us, and ran us through the basics of the flat. We even had a back yard, with a lawn and all. The flat comprised a bedroom, loungeroom, hallway, kitchen/dining and a couple of storerooms, positive luxury for us. The ceilings were so high they could have held a mezzanine and the beautiful bay windows looked out over the street. The faults were many and obvious, but the old place had heaps of character and was clean.

We unpacked, walked down the road to a Sainsbury’s to get some food, came home and crashed.

June 2 – Glasgow – Our time in Glasgow is short, and we have lots planned. With only one day allocated to explore the city, we set off quite early on a walk that would take us down a long hill towards the Clyde. We passed many more rows of stone tenements, exactly the same design as ours. These were all built during the enormous industrial expansion of the 19th Century to house a explosion of workers, coming in from the farms and the highlands in search of employment and a higher standard of living. Some of the streetscapes are stunning, the beautiful sandstone frontages creating a wonderful effect. However, a glance to the rooflines showed the incredible number of chimneys, evidence of just how many dwellings each row of buildings supported. The populations must have been huge, the pollution from so much coal burning in winter almost unbearable. Now, however, the repurposed buildings create a wonderful effect, with many of the streetscapes being heritage listed.

The streetscape in Crow Rd

Our target was the Riverside Museum. The riverside referred to is not the Clyde, but the Kelvin, which flows into the Clyde a little downstream of the museum. We were a tad early for the museum’s opening but we spent the time going through the sailing ship Glenlee, one of the last sail-only ships built on the Clyde in the 1890s. After a long history of trading, including runs to Australia, a marvellous history as a sail training ship owned by both the Italians and the Spanish, and finally coming home to be a floating museum. The other ships we have been on have been warships. This was originally a cargo ship, and the displays portrayed that role brilliantly. The lives of the crew and officers was presented in a way that you could almost feel what they went through. It was a wonderful display.

The Riverside Museum itself is devoted to the history of transport. We had few expectations. It was there, so we thought we would look. Then we were blown away, by probably the best, most comprehensive presentation of a theme we have ever encountered in a museum. It is hard to describe just how wonderful it is to wander around a huge facility filled with buses, cars, trains, carriages, bikes, motorbikes, tube stations, boats… you name it, if it moves, it was there. One section recreated some Glasgow streets of the 19th Century, complete with transport of the day. Another presentation recreated the first underground railway in the city, a cable driven tube train. We could easily have spent several more hours wandering around but we knew we had to push on, so, reluctantly, we left the building.

We had already worked out the bus to catch to take us to the city centre. Buses are Glasgow’s big downfall. There is an underground system, but somehow, it never seems to suit us. The problem with the bus system, is that there are at least (possibly more) five bus companies in operation. There is no one coordinated system. The bus we caught from the Riverside Museum, proved to be a community bus, run by volunteers. That’s a wonderful thing, except their little service doesn’t run to contactless payment with a card. Cash only! Seriously? We managed to dredge up enough cash to cover the fare. At the next two stops, people got on and had to leave again, because they did not have any cash. Crazy!

Glasgow University

Once again, our route took us past the University, this time on the south side. The buildings are so spectacular, we were sorry we would not have a chance to explore the grounds. Later, we learnt that the grounds were used as the basis for Hogwarts in the Harry Potter movies.

We spent a few hours wandering around the city centre, taking in the sites, checking out where the bus station is for future travel, and generally wearing out the legs. We stopped at a café for lunch and a pint and was served by a Melbourne girl, who had been in Glasgow for a few months, including the winter, which she said was very difficult. We chose a share platter, part of which was haggis bites. The waitress admitted she has not yet tried haggis. It proved to be more than bearable, I found it delicious and wouldn’t be shy of having it again. I think the share plate was designed for four or five people. We didn’t recover from eating everything for 24 hours, we were so full. No dinner that night didn’t even help.

Buchanan St, Glasgow

June 3 – Edinburgh – Today we caught a train to Edinburgh, an hour away from Glasgow Queen St Station. The trip was interesting, with the start of the Highlands off to the north. Our train took us into Edinburgh Waverley station, a perfect spot to start an exploration of the essential central sights. We used the GPSMyCity App to plan a circular route, starting in the old town and going around through the parklands under the castle to the shopping area and back to the station.

The old town part of Edinburgh is focussed on the castle, set upon a crag that is the core remains of a long extinct volcano. The “Royal Mile” is the walk between Hollyrood Palace and the castle, and is the main focus for most visitors. Everywhere you look, there is outstanding architecture and items of interest, not to mention crowds of people. There a tour guides everywhere, all striding along with parasols or selfie sticks pointed skywards for their followers to track. We felt little need for a guided tour, with the information on the App and the signage dotted around giving us as much information as we needed. We ducked into tourist shops to find a few bits for the grand children, investigated some narrow alleyways from a medieval past, sat and had a tea and scone and did all those touristy things that one does. The only problem is the hills and steps. Because the city is an offshoot of the castle, everything is uphill. Some of the flights of steps are calf-killing things. We seemed to climb continuously, then carefully work our way back down steep cobbled pathways. At least it was dry. Some of the walkways would be really treacherous in poor weather.

Reluctantly, we gave a tour of the castle a miss. We had a couple of castle tours lined up and and already seen a few. We did take a look at the outside, as best you can without forking out money. A lot of the outside space is taken up with scaffolding to take seating for the Military Tattoo held in August, but the entry grounds of the castle are still rather spectacular.

Sir Walter Scott memorial at left.

Our walk took us on a long winding path back down the crag. Along the way, we passed the New College of the University of Edinburgh and admired the inner courtyards. At the bottom of the hill are the beautiful Princes Street Gardens, through which we enjoyed a leisurely stroll, before heading back out onto the street. This area is the main retail zone, full of shops that sell goods well out of both our pay scale and immediate needs. We did pass by the iconic Sir Walter Scott Monument, a towering stone structure that would look more at home on the top of a church than on the street. The stone was very dirty, apparently because the sandstone used contains a lot of natural oil, which in turn holds dust and grime very easily.

The Princes St Gardens

Although there is so much more to see in this fine city, we felt that we had at least done it some form of justice and headed back to the train, and home. It was another day of much walking, but this time, most of it was going up, or coming back down. The consolation is that the more we walk, the more we can eat.

June 5 – Loch Lomond, The Trossachs and Stirling Castle – With a tour booked for the day, we headed back into town on the now dreaded #4 bus. Glasgow’s bus system is like the Australian domestic flight system, definitely not designed for the consumer.

Our tour was a small one, with only eight people and a nice small, but comfortable bus. It would take us to Loch Lomnd, through the Trossachs and on to Stirling Castle. The driver, Stuart, was a very friendly guy, who was looking forward to one day visiting Perth, where one son now works as a surgeon at Fiona Stanley. Our tour headed off to the west then north of Glasgow to cross the fault line that demarks the start of the Highlands. We would crisscross this line a few times throughout the day. In most places, it is obvious, with the rise of the highlands coming off the mostly flat lands.

We stopped for a while to wander around the tiny village of Luss, nestled on the banks of Loch Lomond. The whole village is heritage rated and preserved, with all buildings being built from a beautiful local stone and the history dating back to the 5th Century.

The little lakeside village of Luss

Loch Lomond is Scotland’s biggest lake by surface area, although not as big as Loch Ness in volume. It is still deep though, with depths of up to 190m. The hills around the loch are very scenic with forests, pine plantations and farms, as well as the grandeur of the majestic Ben Lomond at the northern end. The southern end is a popular holiday destination, although the water itself is so cold that when swimming, it is compulsory to wear a floatation device. We boarded a boat to take a short cruise along the loch and admire the many fine Victorian and Georgian mansions dotted along the shores. Once the boat got moving, the wind chill factor made sitting up front difficult, so eventually, we moved downstairs undercover, where the scenery was better because our eyelids weren’t freezing over.

Loch Lomond

From Loch Lomond, we drove to the town of Aberfoyle for a lunch stop before driving up through the Trossachs, an area of mountains, glens and forests to the east of Loch Lomond. Its beauty has resulted in most of the area forming a National Park, along with parts of Loch Lomond. The drive was up a series of steep winding narrow roads, with each turn exposing a new delight. The forests are very deep and carry a lot of outstanding timber, of a wide variety of species. In the areas where the forest gives way to the more open mountainsides, the flowering yellow gorse created a beautiful display. In places, the heather was showing the first signs of flowering with a purple blush developing, although we later learnt that this was a different heather to the variety that covers the open hills further north, and flowers later in July and August.

At one point, we stopped by a field to admire a small herd of highland cattle. These huge animals are a breed native to the Hebrides and are raised throughout the highlands for their high quality meat. If you see Scottish Beef on a menu, it will be highland cattle meat. They are very popular with tourists for their huge spreading horns and shaggy coats, that sometimes hang over their eyes, making them considerably cuter than their lowland cousins.

Highland Cattle, known locally as ‘Hairy Coos’

Leaving the Trossachs, we pushed on to Stirling Castle. The complex competes with Edinburgh Castle for the title of Scotland’s most historically important fortress. Over the years, it has often served as the residence of Scottish Kings and Queens, and was a key defensive point during the ongoing wars between England and Scotland during the 14th Century. Most of the present work was done during the 15th Century under the Stewart Kings, James IV, V and VI. After the defeat of the Scottish monarchy and the failure of the Jacobite uprisings, the Castle lost its royal purpose and spent the centuries as a fortress, and later as a military barracks.

Much of the castle has been faithfully restored to depict the royal palace of the 16th Century monarchs. A major feature is the collection of recreated tapestries, known as the Hunt of the Unicorn Tapestries. The original 15th Century works are in the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art in New York. In 2002, a program of recreating the works using original techniques was launched using a studio in West Sussex. The result is amazing, with full sized reproductions hanging in the Queen’s chamber. There is a display of the techniques used. Each tapestry took two years of painstaking work, amazing in this day and age, but almost unbelievable back in the 15th Century. The castle also houses the Stirling Heads, a collection of 38 carved rondels featuring the heads of monarchs, important figures and biblical characters, that originally adorned the ceiling of the King’s Waiting room.

We explored the reconstructed Great Hall and the wonderful display in the old castle kitchen, with figures depicting the cooking and serving in the old days. The entire castle was very well presented, and filled in many gaps in our knowledge of Scottish History.

We got back to Glasgow tired, but left with the feeling that we had experienced just a little of what Scotland has to offer, and pleased to be moving on into the Highlands to explore more. Next stop, Inverness.

Manchester and Liverpool, May 2023

June 9, 2023 /

25 May – Cardiff to Manchester – Our train to Manchester was a straight through, not quite express, but without changes. So far, we have been unsuccessful in taking bus trips over trains, which would be a lot cheaper than the rather pricey UK trains, but nothing ever seems to fit. In this case, it was 3hrs30min on the train or 7hrs on a bus, with an hour’s change in Birmingham. Even worse, most buses seemed to set off from Cardiff in the early hours of the morning, not at all appealing. Fortunately, the regular rail strikes that have been a problem for 12 months have not affected us. Often, we only miss a strike day by one day. Thankfully, plenty of notice is given of industrial action.

The trip took us north through Wales and back into England, passing through Hereford, Shrewsbury and Crewe. The land was much as everywhere else, green and lush. Things must dry off sometime, but at present, the whole countryside is knee deep in grass or crops. We arrived in Manchester on time at Piccadilly Station and had to make our way to a tram stop. There were two choices, walk to Market Street to get the Purple Line to our lodgings, or take a tram to St Peter’s Square then change to the Purple Line. Being unfamiliar with the system, we elected to walk and only take the one tram.

The walk to the tram stop was easy, save for the fact that no one (save us) walks on the left. People are so random, most reading their phones or chatting with companions and just charging along anywhere. When you are towing luggage, it gets very wearing. I skirted around people for a while then decided to play the old fart card and just kept plodding ahead, forcing people to move at the last minute. How hard can it be? In London, the authorities have gone to great trouble to mark pavements and stairways, but it does no good. At least they get the cars to keep left most of the time. We sought help from a Metrolink official at the tram stop and he set us right. You can just tap on and off with a credit card. There are all kinds of payments, capped at £4.80 a day, but you just keep tapping on and off and the system works it out at the end of the day. There is also a free bus service doing a circuit of the city.

Once on the tram, we realised just how far out our accommodation was. We had figured it didn’t matter because it was on a tram line, but it took around 30 minutes, there being a lot of stops along the way. Our apartment proved to be the upper storey in a block of sixteen units, looking ordinary from the outside, but very comfortable inside. To the rear is a huge parkland, called Wythenshawe Park, part open space, part developed sporting areas and part forest. It would be worth an explore later.

Our local tram stop. We got to know it well

Nearby is a collection of supermarkets and other shops. I am not sure about the thinking of having a Lidl, a Tesco Extra (the biggest supermarket I’ve ever seen) and an Aldi all in the same location but they all seem to be busy. The Lidl and Tesco both offer special discount for card holders. Christine tried hard to get a Tesco card but without a local postal address it doesn’t seem possible. I stood behind one woman whose bill dropped from £288 to £159 on presentation of her card. We need to get a local to shop for us.

26 May – Manchester – We headed back into the city on the tram, which somehow seemed shorter without the luggage, and planned to use the free bus to travel around. I had downloaded a map of the routes and it was only a short walk from Market Street to a stop on one of the three routes available. After walking too much and not finding any sign of a free bus stop, we made our way back to Manchester Piccadilly Station, where we knew all routes started. We consulted a displayed map of the system, which confirmed that we should have picked on up near Market Street. A Metronet worker told us that the map was out of date, and pointed the way to a new map, with only two routes available. Taking down the old map and updating their web page would seem an obvious move.

The bus took us to where we wanted to go, an area called Spinningfields where the River Irwell passes through the city. There we would pick up a canal cruise. While we waited for the boat, we walked up into the commercial centre to grab a bite to eat. We selected an outlet called Pert to buy a couple of baguettes.  We took them up to the counter and the guy stabbed a button and indicated the pay wave device. Christine waved her card, just as I noticed that there were two devices side by side. She had waved hers over the £5 donation to the Pert Foundation, that raises money for homeless people. While I have no issues with charities for the homeless, placing a PayWave right alongside another pay device seems to be a bit of a con. We objected and the guy was very apologetic, saying that there had been complaints but they were under a direction from head office. He gave us a contact. Christine emailed them, but I’m not holding my breath.

The canal boat arrived and we rugged up as best we could against the wind chill and sat up top. The tour took us down the Irwell River and into the Manchester Ship Canal. Although I had heard of it, I knew little about what has been described as one of the greatest engineering achievements in Victorian times. When Liverpool increased its port handling charges, Manchester responded by building a 56km long canal to bring shipping into the inland city and create what became Britain’s busiest port. The canal opened in 1897 and continued in importance until the 1980s when most ships became too big to navigate it.

Along the way we passed under the Stephenson Bridge, the first railway bridge built anywhere in the World by George Stephenson with his Manchester to Liverpool line. Once in the canal, there are a number of bridges designed to allow the passage of ships. A couple are swing bridges, originally steam powered, with enormous swinging spans. Another lifts the entire span vertically using four lifts. There are side canals, locks, wharves and numerous signs of a commerce giant past its prime. These days, the main dock area has been transformed into a huge new complex of commercial properties, apartments and studios known as Mediacity, home of ITV. It is similar to Melbourne’s Docklands project but on a bigger scale.

The cruise proved to be a real educational tour because I really had no idea of the history of Manchester prior to this. Later, we looked at photos of the old docks and it was amazing how they jammed the ocean going ships into such small spaces. The disruption to livelihoods when the docks ceased to operate must have been enormous, but the city has managed to morph itself into a commercial powerhouse. As the first industrialised city in the World, it is filled with large brick built factories, many of which have been transformed into accommodation or restaurants. There is actually a lot of very fine Victorian and Edwardian architecture around the city, but much of it is obscured by buildings with very little merit other than functionality. Dirt is an issue too, and general rubbish around the streets, although to be fair, London was also bad in regard to rubbish on the streets.

27 May – Wythenshawe – Today was allocated to a morning of relaxation, and an afternoon explore of the parklands behind us. We had seen a billboard promoting a big fun-fare in the park over what was to be a long weekend, due to a bank holiday on the Monday.  We entered the park through a gate next to our apartment and wandered along formed pathways. We had seen on the Internet that there was a company hiring bikes, trikes, and all manner of cycles for family groups to ride in the park. It sounded like a great idea, until we saw the small circuit filled with cycles going round and round. I can’t see why you would bother. The rest of the park was a hive of activity, with tennis courts in full swing, an amazing BMX track that was well utilised, and a mountain bike track through the forest.

The forested area is very beautiful, with some magnificent oak trees. Wild rhododendrons are prolific, the mauve flowers showing out amongst the emerald green foliage.

Further on, we came across an old red brick building that contains a café, and looked to have a great range of very cheap snacks and drinks. As we moved on, we found that this was actually the stables area of a large manor hall, called Wythenshawe Hall. It is a 15th Century Medieval Hall which was home to the Tatton family for 400 years, surviving a siege by Cromwell’s parliamentary forces in the English Civil War in 1644. In 1926, the family handed it, and the surrounding lands, to the government. It was badly damaged by arson in 2016, but has been restored to its former glory. Unfortunately, the manor hall is only open one Sunday a month and we missed out by a week.

Wythenshawe Hall

Wandering back towards the stables, a small boy came along side and took my hand, announcing that we should go for a walk together. His mother was apologetic, but it was obvious the boy had special needs. We chatted for a while as we walked and learnt that there was a community farm nearby, one of the boy’s favourite places. It is free to enter and aims to give urban children access to a range of animals. There were pigs, cows, goats, turkeys, ducks, and hens all accessible to the many children that wandered around. The farm shop sold little paper bags of chaff and pellets for the animals to be fed with. It looked like a farm, smelled like a farm and was a fun-filled place for kids. The bizarre thing is that the farm shop also sold the meat produce from the farm, so it was a case of feed, pat and eat. We bought a pack of pork and tomato sausages, with apologies to the rather cute little of piglets. We also bought a pack of crisps made on site from potatoes grown on the farm. It’s a well-run thing and amazing that it is free to enter. Wythenshawe Park proved to be a real find, and right on our doorstep.

The community farm and the forested area

28 May – Liverpool – We had originally tried to stay in Liverpool, but failed to find affordable accommodation without going so far from the city that we might as well be in Manchester. The research suggests there is a lot to see and do so we planned two days, travelling by tram to Manchester then an hour’s train to Liverpool. We could have booked express trains which take 34 minutes but the cost is considerably higher. Unfortunately, when we booked the train we failed to notice that the departure station was Deansgate and not the usual Piccadilly. We did notice once we got to Piccadilly, so we had to catch a train down to Oxford Road and pick up a train there. Fortunately, our ticket allowed such things without extra charge.

When we exited Liverpool Lime St Station and looked around, it was obvious we were in an exciting city. Nestled amongst the modern buildings was the gorgeous Crown Hotel, built in 1905 in Art Nouveau style. We elected to walk through to our first destination, the Albert Dock, a decision made easy by the fact that the entire city centre is walking only. Being still early, the walkways were quiet, something they definitely were not later on in the day. We passed all manner of shops, eateries and commercial buildings along the way. The striking difference between Liverpool and Manchester was the cleanliness. There was a notable absence of street rubbish and the buildings lacked the veneer of grime that covers those in Manchester.

Around Liverpool

Albert Dock is another revamped old dock area, and it has been extremely well done. There are eateries, boutiques and a few museums, as well as a number of tours, including a harbour tour. Best of all, every budget and taste is catered for with a good variety of food trucks dotted around the quays, selling all kinds of food at very affordable prices. Elizabeth Quay in Perth needs to learn something from this. Most of the trucks are vintage vehicles, including an old horse drawn tram and a double decker bus. Buskers add to the atmosphere. There were a lot of people just strolling, sitting or enjoying refreshment.

Around Albert Dock

We had a Beatles Bus Tour booked, using a double decker bus. We opted for the VIP ticket, which gave us priority boarding and 48 hours of the other Hop on Hop Off Bus around the city. With time to kill before the tour, we wandered the shops, being surprised once again to find that the souvenir T-Shirts were at least a reasonable price here, unlike everywhere else we looked. They are still way over priced, but at least they are better than most places. We promised to return.

The Beatles Tour was a hoot. Being VIP, we managed to get good seats up top and up front. The guide was a true comic and was sufficient entertainment in his own right. He gave us an introduction to talking in ‘scouse’ the heavily accented Liverpudlian talk. He left us all in no doubt as to what Scousers think of Manchester, and even the rest of England, feeling more connection with Wales and Scotland than the good old St George. The bus made its way out of the city centre, past the Liverpool Institute, where Paul and George studied and met each other. Along the way, various Beatles favourites were played, including Penny Lane, as we drove down the iconic street. We stopped at Penny Lane for photographs, and our guide explained how the streets signs had been pilfered many times over the years, including one that Paul had signed.

Another stop was made at Strawberry Field, once an orphanage for girls that John used to visit to check out the talent. We saw John’s house, quite a swish affair by most standards, now owned by Yoko and given over to the National Trust to open to the public. Paul’s house was not as flash, but still in a better environment than I had imagined. It was interesting to see all the places around that formed the environment that Paul, John and George grew up in and to hear how the names are woven through so many of their songs.

John’s childhhod home (top) and the street that Paul lived in (below)

As the bus neared the end of the tour, the guide led the whole bus in some singing. We certainly drew a lot of looks, and applause, from the crowds we passed as a busload sang Obla Di Obla Da with gusto. It was a fun tour, but also insightful, not only into the early days of the Beatles, but also into life in Liverpool.

We walked around to the Maritime Museum, a free entry, as are all the Government museums in Liverpool. It actually proved to be a disappointment, being mostly just photographs and models of ships, so we only did one of the three floors available. We later learnt that the Slavery Museum is very emotive and worth a visit, over 3 million slaves passing through Liverpool in times past.

Having access to the normal Hop on Hop Off Bus, we decided to walk along the quay to stop number two, which is next to the Fab Four Statue. As we approached the Mersey Ferry area, we saw big crowds gathered around a display set up by the armed services as part of the 80th Anniversary of the Battle of the Atlantic celebrations. Earlier, we had been treated to the marvellous sight of a Lancaster Bomber, flanked by two Spitfires, doing several low level passes over the quay. There were lots of displays of guns, tanks and such things, and a big number of people.

Having admired the statues of the Beatles, and taken the obligatory photo, we proceeded to the bus stop, where we found that the route had been changed to exclude the stop, due to road closures associated with the military display. It might have been good to display that information back at Stop #1 but there you have it. We started the walk back to stop #1, but decided it was easier to walk up through town and explore as we went. As it happened, we came across another statue, that of Brian Epstein, the Beatles’ manager.

By the time we reached Lime St Station, we were quite tired. The next Northern Line train was an hour away, and it would take an hour to reach Manchester. There was a Transpennine Express train leaving in 15 mintues with a 36 minute travel time but our ticket would not permit that. We acted dumb and talked to the conductor nicely, who suddenly said, “OK you can take it.” Christine slept most of the way to London Victoria Station, then we picked up a tram to take us home. By the time we reached home, we had clocked up over 10kms, a good reason to feel totally done.

May 29 – Liverpool – I started the day feeling a year older, having reached my three score and ten. Being 70 does affect the traveller, making travel insurance and car hire more expensive, but at least it means you don’t have to feel guilty about sitting in the priority seats anymore. People say you are only as old as you feel, but some mornings that is not a good rule to go by.

We headed off to Liverpool again, not making the same mistakes with train stations as yesterday. This time, when we got out at Lime Street Station, we waited and caught the Hop On Hop Off Bus from stop #7 back to Albert Dock, taking the scenic route and learning about the various landmarks along the way. Once again, the commentary was delivered by a very entertaining comic, much better than the usual recorded commentary on these buses.

At Albert Dock, we did some shopping for T-Shirts, and snapped up some discounted Liverpool/Ukraine themed beanies left over from Eurovision. They look like West Coast Eagles beanies with 2023 knitted into them, although 2023 is hardly proving to be a memorable year for the Eagles.

From there, we walked back around the dock to the Mersey Ferry Terminal. The military display had gone so crowds were not as bad as yesterday. There are a number of actual boat tours of the Mersey available, but all we wanted to do was ride the commuter ferry over and back, just to say we had taken the “Ferry ‘Cross the Mersey.” Damn. It is a bank holiday and no ferries are running. Foiled again. Bank holidays are a pain in the bum sometimes. It is our second one in Britain. They like them. However, the bus was running again so we rode the up to the area of the city called the Cavern Quarter, after the famous Cavern Club where the Beatles performed 290 times in their early years.

We located Mathew Street and explored the many sights. Every bar or cafe is named after the Fab Four, a song or an album and there is a statue of Cilla Black, another Liverpool legend.  We found the Cavern Club. Actually, it is the rebuilt Cavern Club, the original having been demolished back in 1973 in preparation for some subway works that never eventuated. Another Cavern Club opened further down the street, then eventually another one was built in the old location, opening in 1984. The original entrance was near where Cilla Black’s statue is today.

The rebuilt Cavern Club entrance and an old picture of the crowds lining up for the Beatles in the early 60s

Christine with her friend Cilla Black and the entrance to the Beatles Museum

Further down the road is the Beatle’s Museum. There are a number of places that claim to be the Beatle’s Museum but we chose this one because of its location and its reliance on actual original objects. Much of the material from the early years has come via Pete Best, the early drummer from the Hamburg years, who was replaced by Ringo when fame and a contract was offered conditional on a new drummer. It is a very emotional journey through the museum for us whose formative years were during the Beatle’s era. The display is arranged over three floors, one for each decade. There are fascinating letters, old play lists, original music scores, tour itineraries and all manner of memorabilia. In the early hectic touring days, the overwhelming theme is ‘hard work’. Fame and success did not just spring out of nowhere. Those guys worked hard. The tour itinerary for the United States showed blocks of five consecutive days of concerts in different cities followed by two rest days. They criss-crossed the continent. It must have been hell.

It being relatively early in the morning, there was only a small crowd in the museum and we were able to move around with ease and spend as much time as we wanted at each exhibit. Every so often a TV played a clip from the past, some featuring the group, and others focussing on the events of the times. There were a few families wandering around and I found myself wondering what the children would make of all the fuss and hype. For us though, it was a “Magical Mystery Tour” and very nostalgic. It was a perfect accompaniment to the previous day’s bus tour.

We left, finally Beatled out, and sought a drink and bite to eat in one of the many Beatles themed bars in Mathew Street but none sold food beyond a packet of crisps, being content with the income from beer and wine. Further down town, we found a Wetherspoon and had lunch and a pint there. We need Wetherspoons in Perth. They are a pub chain with a big array of beers and ales on tap, along with a basic pub food menu, offering lots of ‘food and drink’ combos that make stopping for an acceptable meal very affordable. The decor is always good, they look like a good pub, and have comfortable seating, both inside and out. A pint of lager and a pizza each set us back a mere £6.95 each.

A slow wander up through the walking streets, by now very crowded with the combination of Bank Holiday and warm sunny weather bringing everyone out of hiding. The weather over the last week has been brilliant, even the locals are surprised. The wind chill factor is still there, but out of the wind and in the sun, it can get positively warm. Furthermore, there is no sign of rain for another week. This is England! What’s happening? We still head out in long pants and carry a coat but the young locals take the sunshine as an opportunity to take to the skimpies. There are tiny shorts, little crop tops, guys with no shirt on and pale white limbs seeking the sun. Mind you, we have seen some nasty cases of sunburn too.

May 30 – Manchester (Deansgate) – The morning was spent relaxing and writing, with a bit of recovery from the last two days of heavy exertion. After lunch we walked to the tram to travel into the city, the target area being Deansgate/Castlefield. Deansgate is the city’s oldest thoroughfare, running through both the Roman fort of Mamucium and the Saxon Castlefield. During the 18th and 19th Centuries, the eastern end became an important transport hub with the building of the huge rail viaduct and Bridgewater and Rochdale Canals, bringing barges from the river to the rail head. The area today is a mix of new high-rise apartments and old repurposed buildings, many as restaurants, nestled amongst the network of canals. The rail links still dominate the area, with the original viaduct still surviving although unused. There are links to Liverpool and our own tram line to the airport crossing the newer viaduct.

The Viaduct and Bridgewater Canal

We got off and began a slow wander through the area. The old rail viaduct has been taken over by the National Trust and they use it to grow plants that would have native to the old Manchester. We spent a pleasant half hour checking out the plants, before descending to the Roman Gardens below. The gardens are built around the site of the original Roman fort, with a few walls being still visible, along with reconstructed representations of what the old structures would have been. In Roman times, being posted to Mamucium would have been the death of any young Tribune’s aspirations, it being considered near the ends of the civilised world.

The Roman Gardens

Further on, we came across the Museum of Science and Technology. Manchester follows the Liverpool system of making their museums free entry, a policy that we thoroughly agree with. What a wonderful museum. Although many technologies are represented, the textile industry is featured, and brilliantly done. The history of the cotton mill industry is shown with a huge range of machinery set up and the lives and work of those involved described in detail. It was staggering to see the complexity of the huge spinning machinery that was in use in the 18th Century. I have no idea how a mere human being could ever invent such machines, let along thread up the yarn in the intricate looms. It really did lay out the industrial revolution in one place, the steam driven engines that powered everything, the marvellous machines that would have been built by hand, out of parts that were individually machined from steel and brass alloys or cast in the foundries and factories. The scale of the industry that developed over such a brief period of time is hard to comprehend.

“Baby”, the World’s first stored program computer in 1948. It was 10,000 times slower than the first iPad.

Next, we explored the canals. Although only used for house boats these days, the canal system and picturesque locks creates a wonderful setting. There is a multitude of cafes and restaurants hugging the banks. Most were quiet and closed, after what would have been a busy Bank Holiday Weekend, but we still managed to find a comfortable spot overlooking a canal to enjoy a beer and crisps, watching the world go by and admiring the moored canal boats.

Deansgate is a wonderful area, full of interest and things to explore.

31 May – Altrincham – The morning was another morning of late rising. Manchester has been busy so a bit of a slow down is called for. In the late morning, we caught a bus to the nearby town of Altrincham. Originally a market town, Altrincham has now been absorbed into Greater Manchester, yet still retains some of character of the old town. Along the route, we passed through some lovely suburbs, many with fully detached large houses and large blocks. The bus dropped us at the main station/bus port, in the main street of the town. From there, a number of walking only streets lead off to other parts of the town, lined with shops of all kinds, in fact just about everything you could ask for. We made our way to the market, unfortunately mostly closed on a Wednesday, but looking like a terrific spot when open. I came across a barber that at least looked affordable and had a much needed hair cut, Christine giving it the nod of approval.

We continued to wander the town, admiring the many fine Victorian and Edwardian buildings, clad in a local brown sandstone. We checked out a few possible places to eat and settled on a Wetherspoon again, the value for money being too much to resist.

Our stomachs replenished, we wandered back through the town and caught a bus home, impressed with Altrincham. Manchester as a whole has impressed us. Its history is so much shorter than many of the places we have visited, packed into a couple of centuries with of some of the biggest and most important developments seen by mankind. The Industrial Revolution was an incredible leap forward (or backward depending on your viewpoint) and Manchester personifies the growth. The way in which the city has managed to deal with the recent and rapid change to the industry that made it great does the city credit. The modern Manchester embodies the old and embraces the new. We have really enjoyed our visit to the area.

Tomorrow, we travel north to Glasgow.

Wales, May 2023

June 4, 2023 /

22 May – Westbury to Cardiff – We caught a taxi to Westbury Station with an hour to wait for the train. Westbury can be quite a busy place, with it being the junction for a number of lines, so the time spent was entertaining, watching the comings and goings. The announcement of our train promised four carriages, but when it pulled in, there was only two. It was even difficult to get in the doors, because people were sitting on the floor with their luggage. There were no seats left. The conductor was apologetic and said that they would add two more carriages at Bristol, which was two thirds of the way to Cardiff so not really much help. However, quite a few got off in Bath, leaving a few spots. There was one woman at a table with face to face seats, except she had her suitcase blocking one seat and the leg room for the one opposite. We sat at another face to face table, and the young woman opposite me had her legs fully extended under my seat, causing me to sit crunched up. She responded by pulling the collar of her jacket up to hide her face. By this stage, I was wishing I was still Covid contagious. A guy about 6’2” tall sat in the other seat and had to spill his legs out into the aisle because the other cow wouldn’t move her suitcase. Finally, nearing Bristol, enough people got up that Christine and I were able to find comfortable seats. In fact, once they had hooked up two extra carriages, there was no need for them at all.

Our accommodation in Cardiff is an apartment in a large high rise, but we are at least on the 1st floor. It was only a short walk from the station and we found the keys in the pub next door, navigated the security system and settled in to the flat with no issues. It was a strange place, with a huge collection of alcohol bottles, mostly empty of with a little bit left, a big display of thankyou cards from other guest extolling the hosts virtues, and two windows, both of which looked out over grotty courtyards. The place was basically clean, but terribly cluttered with the hosts personal stuff. There is no form of ventilation in the bathroom and the collection of crockery can only be described as bizarre. There are rave reviews from other guests, but I suspect they were here for the rugby (the huge stadium is just around the corner) or the nightlife, of which there is a lot, and only needed a bed.

Having dumped our stuff, we headed out to find a supermarket. We soon learnt that the apartment is location, location, location. Step outside and you have all forms of shopping at the doorstep. Food, drinks, markets, clothes, you name it, it’s there. A great many blocks of central Cardiff are walking only, so moving around is easy. At the far end of our closest mall, is the glorious Cardiff Castle, overlooking the city like a sentinel. The bulk of the grounds are open to the public, and is a picturesque walk through the grounds.

We located a Sainsbury’s, but opted for a beer over a shopping trip. A sign offering £3 pints was too tempting and we joined a group sitting alfresco, watching the passing parade.  A guy next to us relished the chance to talk cricket, he being English born and his Welsh children having no interest outside rugby. He said that going to the MCG was his big dream. He did tell us that there is no free to air Ashes telecast anymore, you need Sky Channel. That’s crazy. It can’t be good for the game. Unfortunately, having someone to talk to about cricket meant we ended up having two drinks so we rolled a bit going home via the supermarket. Our short time in Cardiff suggests that public drunkenness is an issue, as is street drinking. I don’t think I’d like to be here when there is an England vs Wales Rugby match.

May 23 – Cardiff – We consulted the GPSmyCity App and chose two walks to explore the city. The first was an arcade walk, taking us through the centre’s seven arcades. We later found more, but seven sounded good. They were all the rage at the end of the 19th Century so the various architectures are interesting and some of the shop fronts really pretty. The vacancy rate was quite high, although most empty shops were showing signs of a revamp, suggesting a turn-around in retail fortunes. It was a fun way to move around the retail sector.

The second walk took us through the castle grounds and on to Bute Park. We didn’t do the castle tour, we just have to be selective because each one can cost quite a lot. Besides, if you’ve seen one suit of armour, you’ve seen them all. We wandered past some grand civic buildings and did a big enough tour of the CBD to get a feel for the place, which is very positive. Later, we remarked to a woman in a bakery how beautiful Cardiff is and her reply was, “You’d have to live here!”

Cardiff Castle Keep

Beautiful Edwardian houses in Cardiff

We went to the Central Market, a grand old pavilion dating from 1891. The previous evening, we had purchased two delicious beef pies from a stall selling all kinds of treats. We bought a loaf of tiger bread from the bakery, along with two Welsh cakes and a chunk of bread pudding. I am sold on Welsh cakes. They are a cross between a pikelet and a fruit scone, and are sold everywhere for around 60p each. The bread pudding is interesting, the flavour of nutmeg coming through. I suspect it is about 90% suet, making them good artery clogging gear, but it is good in small doses.

The Market in Cardiff

24 May – Caerphilly and Brecon Mountain Railway – We had organised a car for the day with U-Drive. We are big fans of U-Drive, the cars costing about half what the big names want without the horrors of excesses worth thousands of dollars. The only hassle is that they always seem to be in out of the way places so we end up paying extra for a taxi to get the car. The plan for the day was to drive inland to the mountain country to the Bannau Brycheiniog National Park (don’t ask me to pronounce that), to take a steam train ride on the Brecon Mountain Railway. We often watch Great British Rail Journeys on TV and always say, “We must do that one!” So here we are.

The drive was listed for about an hour, depending on traffic. We decided to cut the journey by visiting Caerphilly, a mid sized town about 15 kilometres from Cardiff. Caerphilly’s main claim to fame is its castle, the second largest in Britain after Windsor. It dates from the 13th Century, built to maintain an English hold over the surrounding Glamorgan lands. We had fun getting there. Things were going fine until we found ourselves stuck in a line of traffic approaching a roundabout. Nothing moved for ages. The cars coming down the hill towards us were signalling for people to turn around, so the problem was obviously serious. Fortunately, we were in a position to do so, unlike most others, and we headed back down the hill and relocated to a shopping centre carpark to work out an alternative route.

We chose another route that looked to avoid the trouble area. What we should have done was zoom in to check the road status, usually ensuring we only travel on “A” roads, or “B” at worst. We soon found our route took us over 5 miles of road that would not have any grading. It was a single lane through hedgerow country, with the hedges being about three metres tall. About every three hundred metres there was a slight pull off so someone had to back up when an oncoming car approached. Of course, the locals knew what they were doing and drove fast. We took what seemed like hours to cover the distance. When there was a break in the hedgerow, the scenery was spectacular, with cute cottages, sheep with wool down to the ground, ponies with very short legs and lots of other Welsh type stuff. It was nail biting stuff, except that would mean taking my hands off the wheel.

Finally, Caerphilly arrived and we frightened the locals by driving down a one way street the wrong way. We remarked in Wiltshire how considerate and forgiving the drivers were. Not in Wales. They drive with one hand on the horn and quickly let you know if you are doing the wrong thing.

Once parked, we admired the huge expanse of the castle. We have now seen a lot of castles but this one is a bit different. It was the first to develop the double layer of concentric walls and moats. It is in a bit of a state, having fallen into disuse in the 16th Century and the locals pinching some of the stone for their own buildings. In the 17th Century, one round tower started to lean, and now hangs at a crazy angle, not the place for a picnic.

Caephilly Castle

Once again, we refused the tour inside the keep, said to be quite luxurious by castle standards, and opted for a wander down the main street of town. There was a large Morrison’s Supermarket at the end so we decided to try for Vegemite. To Christine’s great delight, they stocked it. Breakfast is back to normal! We relaxed at a café overlooking the castle and enjoyed a pot of tea (so English) and a Welsh cake (of course).

Before setting off, we consulted a local to avoid driving on a laneway again and drove the A4067 to Pant Station. The road was a steady upward climb, most of the National Park being at an altitude of over 500 metres. We got to Pant Station without too much in the way of navigational errors, although road diversions due to road works that don’t show on Google Maps make life hard. We were an hour early, but the time passed quickly, scoffing down a sandwich we had brought from home, playing with the model train set that is displayed in the station, reading some of the background, and walking up to a lookout to get a good view of the train as it chugged its way into the station.

The railway is made up of restored locos and line gathered from all parts of the globe. Both steam locos were originally built in Philadelphia at the end of the 19th Century, one spending most of its life in South Africa, and the other Brazil. The gauge is narrow, only 2’, to allow for the steep incline and winding track needed to work through the hills. It mostly follows the path of an old line that used to haul limestone and coal for the bustling iron industry in the area. As with so many of these heritage rail services, volunteers are the mainstay, and I must say, watching the guys work the engine and coupling processes, there wouldn’t be any shortage of helpers. It was the stuff little boys dreams are made of (well that and some other stuff of course). The train chuffing its way around the bend was wonderful, the engine and carriages being in superb condition.

We walked back along the trail and took out turn to board. The carriages have very big windows, affording a great view of the scenery. There is one guard’s van, in the American style where they referred to them as a caboose, complete with wood burning stove. The line followed the valley of the Taf Fechan to where the river is dammed up to create the Pontsticill Reservoir. It follows the reservoir up into the mountain range to terminate at Torpantau. Along the way, the views are of rolling farmlands then, once in the National Park, forest and areas of pine. The train had to slow or stop several times once to let us look at a herd of Welsh ponies with two very cute foals, and a couple of times because there were sheep on the tracks. The sheep had very long wool, almost dragging on the ground, and long tails, looking quite unlike anything in Australia. In the distance, the majestic peak of Pen Y Fan could be seen. It is very popular with hikers and campers, although must be a bleak place in anything but late spring or summer.

At Torpantau, the engine was uncoupled and driven to the other end of the train for the trip back along the line. We had a 30 minute stop at Pontsticilli Station for refreshments, and to help the finances of the railway, before finishing up the trip back at Pant. What a delightful rail journey. The smell of the coal smoke, the sound of the wheels on the rail and the steady chuffing of the engine , all evoked memories of my childhood, when a few steam trains still ran on suburban lines and we used to run up onto a pedestrian bridge as one passed underneath to be engulfed in smoke. No one ever suggested that inhaling coal smoke was bad for our health.

Back in the car, we headed down the River Taff Valley, amazed at just how much of a climb we had made getting to the railway. This time, we found the right motorway and drove in comfort, although I did get tooted a couple of times when I did the wrong thing on interchanges, but then the Welsh seemed to like doing that. Our destination was the Penarth Pier, a popular spot in Cardiff Bay. As we approached Cardiff, we made a wrong exit from an interchange and found ourselves in heavy peak hour traffic. Christine studied Google Maps but announced that we either found a way to turn around (not happening) or go with the very slow flow. We calculated that it was now not possible to go to Penarth, so we elected to go back to the U-Drive depot and ditch the car. It was torture in the traffic. I recognised a lot of the route from the taxi drive of the morning, but we finally got there and handed back our beloved little Fiat 500. We enquired about U-Drive in Manchester, and after some discussion between staff, it appears they have opened a branch but it is commercial only. Damn. U-Drive is the best hire company I have ever dealt with and the cheapest.

A taxi took us back to near our apartment. The taxi drivers are really nice here. One even knocked four pounds off the bill because he had chosen a longer path than he should have. I had actually followed the route on Google Maps and I couldn’t see anything wrong with the way we had gone.  We got out and decided to drop in to our favourite Irish Pub for a pint before hitting home.

Tomorrow, we train it to Manchester.

Westbury, Salisbury, Portsmouth and Bath

May 28, 2023 /

15 May – London to Westbury – We had the system pretty well worked out to get to Paddington station using a bus to Slone Square then the Circle Line Underground to Paddington. It is ironic, but not unusual, that we now have a workable understanding of London Transport to use it effectively, and we are skipping town. It always happens. We had given ourselves plenty of time so we bought some sandwiches at Paddington Station and found a place to sit and wait. Christine was feeling a bit unwell anyway and I had a sore throat from the previous day. A RAT the day before had proven negative but we did start to worry a bit so we did the right thing and wore masks in the shops and train.

The journey to Westbury, in Wiltshire County, was beautiful, through rolling hills and quaint villages. The use of hedgerows as fences makes every farm a picture, and the spring plantings were all growing well. The canola is already in flower and most sheep in need of a shear. Some of the villages we passed through looked like they were out of a model train set, with really quaint railway stations and thatched cottages.

Our apartment was too far from the station to walk so we grabbed a Pete’s Taxi, that was waiting outside. In deference to the driver, we donned masks, by now thinking we probably had Covid. He was a chatty bloke who knew the address we gave him because he once stayed there before he moved from Southampton. Our apartment is an annex to the main house on the edge of a newish estate of detached houses in Westbury Leigh. The estate could be pretty, but every house looks the same and there are no trees to speak of. There are not even many lawns, with most electing to pave their yards. The roads are a twisting mess, as though someone dropped cooked spaghetti. It creates one of those crazy suburbs where you might have to walk 700m to visit you back fence neighbour.

Around Westbury Leigh and our little annexe.

We settled in, gave the place out tick of approval, then took a RAT. Damn, both positive. And both feeling it (not too bad, but certainly like a cold). We put the masks on and walked to the local Tesco to stock up on food. Christine let the owner of our AirBnB know, but she wasn’t concerned, saying that people had ceased to worry now and some even went to work.

16-17 May – Westbury Leigh – We had a couple of days lying around watching television and feeling sorry for ourselves. Christine actually felt ill and got a cough whereas I had a bad attack of the nose runs and much less of a cough. I took a few short walks around the neighbourhood, working out about the local trains to Salisbury or Bath and generally breathing some fresh air. It is annoying to finally get Covid, but at least we are somewhere for a week and can take the time to get over it.

We did take a long walk to the Aldi in Westbury to get access to a better range of goods. Once out of our new estate, the walk was really interesting, with a range of houses of varying ages. Our walk took us alongside the high stone walls of a military establishment, quite heavily wired off and listed as an officer selection facility.

The couple of days of feeling poorly passed with a lot of binge watching of series and lazing around. Eventually, we started to feel better and tested negative the next morning.

18 May – Salisbury and Portsmouth – We took a train into Salisbury, about 60km away, to pick up a hire car. Unfortunately, there are none available in Westbury or even Bath, so Salisbury it was. The local train are diesel railcars operated by Great Southern railways and are fast and comfortable. Our closest station, Dilton Marsh, is little more than a siding, and you have to hail the train as it’s not a regular stop. We watched some other trains hammer through the station and wondered how we would ever get ours to stop, but when the right train came, it was going slowly enough to easily hail it.

There is a rule in play if you have a residual cough from a cold or Covid. As soon as you enter a crowded space, you feel the urge to cough. No matter that half the others on the train are coughing anyway, it feels so awkward. The train rolled through some really picturesque surroundings, called the Salisbury Plains, but not all that flat. The underlying ground is white chalk, and there are quite a few “chalk drawings” carved into the hills around the district, including a white horse overlooking our town of Westbury. Near Salisbury, there is one called the “Rude Man”, and outline of a man who is somewhat well endowed.

Once at Salisbury, we jumped in a taxi to find the U-Drive outlet. The driver was a fun guy, pointing out lots of sights as we drove through the lovely city. I saw a Cornish Bakery flash by and he promised us the Cornish pasties were excellent.

Our car was ready, a cute little Fiat 500 Hybrid. It seats four in theory but I can’t really see it. However, it was just the thing for tight manoeuvring and parking, not to mention the 4L/100km fuel economy. It did have a few issues when we came across a big hill at 120km/hr on the motorway but it had 6 gears to play with. I found it a little bit off-putting to have everything in miles, the speedo, the road signs etc. It took me back to my early years of driving, before we went full metric. Christine can’t cope, quoting everything as kilometres, even though the maps are in miles. I actually had trouble giving the car back after three days of driving it.

The plan was to leave exploring Salisbury until we had to return the car, and spend the afternoon in Portsmouth, another 50km further south. The main attraction there was the Naval Dockland Museum, which houses HMS Victory, Nelson’s 100 gun flagship from the Battle of Trafalgar. I have always wanted to see it and to explore below decks. As well as Victory, there is the Mary Rose, Henry VIII’s great ship that sank in the Solent back in 1545 after a fight with the French. The wreck was recovered in 1982, along with the greatest collection of Tudor age artifacts ever found. The third big attraction is the Warrior, built in 1860 as the largest and most powerful warship in the World.

Navigation to the Historic Dock area of Portsmouth was easy, save for the last few blocks to correctly locate the parking area, and we were soon into the grounds. We purchased a 3 attraction ticket, allowing us general access and each of the three ships we were interested in. The ticket are valid for 12 months, not that we could take advantage, but it did mean we could do one or two today and come back later for the third. That idea proved a winner because after doing the Mary Rose exhibit, we were stuffed and decided to come back for the other two.

The Mary Rose is amazing for the science behind the preservation of the timbers. The ship lay on one side, the lower half quickly covered in silt, and so preserved over the years. The exposed side succumbed to the elements. The recovery effort involved digging under the half hull and lifing the entire thing, eventually housing it in a specially constructed atmosphere controlled environment. The chamber is air-lock controlled to keep humidity low. The basic hull structure and construction can be clearly seen. I still have trouble fully comprehending the enormity of human effort it took to construct a ship of the size of the Mary Rose back in the 16th Century. Henry VIII is also responsible for the destruction of enormous tracts of English oak forests in the pursuit of naval power over France. The artifacts taken from the wreck cover all aspects of ship board life of the times. Even some of the clothing is preserved, especially leather shoes. Being a ship of war, there are weapons galore, more varied than later ships like the Victory, because in 1545 war at sea was more a matter of ships coming together and men fighting hand to hand rather than standing off and blasting hell out of each other with huge cannons. The display was superbly supported with audio visual presentations, although the low light conditions, done to help the preservation of the artifacts, got a bit hard to handle at times.

We emerged from the Mary Rose exhibit and knew that we were done for the day. After a cup of tea, we had a bit of a wander around the wharf area of Portsmouth before going back to the car. A stall selling seafood trays attracted out attention, for its quirkiness. Instead of the usual fare, it was whelks, pippis, mussels and lots of things labelled as “imitation”, such as lobster, prawn or crab. The signs pointed out that the imitation seafoods were indeed, processed fish soaked in juice of lobster or something else. We passed. Across the road, a couple of quaint medieval style inns were doing a good trade, as they must have done back in the day when Portsmouth was the hub of the Royal Navy. It is easy to picture the bustling life of the docks area back at the height of the Napoleonic Wars, with provisioners and suppliers all cashing in on the lucrative naval supply contracts. It would not have been the place to be wandering around idol, as the press gangs roamed freely ready to snatch up any available looking man for service with His Majesty.

The old and the new sit well together in Portsmouth

Back to the car, we consulted Google Maps. It told us it was a 114km drive through Salisbury or 140km via the A303 bypassing Winchester, but a quicker drive, owing to traffic snarls through Salisbury. We opted to go via Winchester. Although we didn’t have any actual traffic jams, the drive seemed endless. We seemed to do 100km/hr most of the time but the trip still took 2 hours. Our drive did take us past the famed Stonehenge. First we passed a camping area, about 8kms before the actual site. The camping area looked like something out of a Woodstock movie, with many tarpaulin covered old tents. I picture lots of flower power type people getting ready to worship the summer solstice or some such thing. When the A303 ran past Stonehenge itself, the traffic was in a slow phase, and we got a really good chance to look at it. We had planned to visit on our way down to Salisbury in a couple of days but after driving past, we decided we had “been there done that”. It honestly looked like little more than a few rocks in a field. You can’t actually walk amongst the stones or touch them. The £21 per Senior fee gives you access to the Visitor’s Centre and a bus to the vicinity of the stones. We were happy with our view from the A303 and the £42 in our pocket. We have never been to the life size recreation of Stonehenge in Esperance, WA, but it is now on our visit list.

19 May – Bath and Frome –  Bath is about 25km from Westbury. We planned out a route to a parking station just over the river from the town centre, leaving a short walk. The drive was beautiful, often along tree covered roads, or bypassing stately manor homes and fields filled with sheep. We reached a point where we had to descend a long steep incline as the road wound down into the valley forged by the River Avon. The scenery was breathtaking. If there had been a convenient place to stop, I would have, but the speed limit was only 35km/hr for most of it so I was able to admire the view as well. Bath itself presented on the other side of the valley, everything clearly outlined because almost every building is constructed of a pale coloured sandstone, so the town limits are obvious against the bright green of the surrounding hillsides. The houses we passed were mostly beautiful Georgian or Victorian architecture.

Having located the car park, we strolled across the North Parade Bridge, stopping to admire the famous Pulteney Bridge upstream. Built in 1774 by the Pulteney family to service a new town across the river from Bath, the bridge is not only beautiful, but said to be one of only four in the World that have shops on each side. We have seen the Ponte Vecchio in Florence and the Rialto in Venice so we now have to go to Erfurt in Germany to see the Krämerbrücke if we want to complete the set. The appeal of the Pulteney Bridge is enhanced by the wonderful arch shaped weir in front of it. From the rear, the bridge is close to ugly, all the work being put into the downstream side. We waked along the river bank to the Pulteney Bridge. On the bridge itself, it looks like just another part of the street, with quaint shops lining each side, and no hint that you are on an actual bridge.

The Pulteney Bridge and Weir

We walked down to the river where there was a small tour boat operating and picked up a 1 hour return cruise up the Avon. The cruise goes upstream to the little village of Bathampton, where another weir bars further progress. Along the way, we admired the many lovely houses dotting the banks, most with little boat houses or even barbecue spots near the river bank. The houses themselves were built well up the bank, apparently due to the size of the floods than can occur in big winters. We leant that there are five Avon Rivers in England. The word is an ancient Celtic term that means river, so the Avon River is the River River. Moreover, there are scores of Avons scattered across the Commonwealth of Nations. Technically, the one we were on is the Bristol Avon, because that is where it enters the sea. The banks are in excellent condition, carrying a lot of vegetation once away from the houses. We were told there are otters and kingfishers on the river, both signs of a healthy waterway, and many species of fish live in its waters. At Bathhampton, we could see the old waterwheels that used to operate mills and admired a couple of country inns that are said to be very popular on weekends. The bridge across the river at Bathampton is a privately owned toll bridge, charging £1 for cars to cross. Handling over a million cars a year, it is a nice little money earner for the owners, but it also has the effect of reducing traffic in the picturesque village, which would otherwise be overrun on weekends. It was a lovely cruise and well worth it.

Back in Bath, we walked the streets, pausing at almost every vista. Every building is a masterpiece, and the fact that much of the central city is walking only means that the streetscapes are easily admired. Christine was chasing a place that sells knitting wool, needing a ball to finish some socks. We enquired at a department store and were directed to a charity shop a round the corner. That drew a blank too. The bath Guildhall Market is a charming collection of stalls housed in a beautiful indoor setting and the first thing I saw on entry was a stall filled with balls of wool. Christine was in heaven. Wool secured, we walked on, into a large square, where we could admire the Roman Baths, after which Bath gets its fame. The Romans established the baths in 60AD, but it was in the 18th Century that it became the place to be seen in English society. The square is also dominated by the glorious Bath Abbey.

Bathampton

Walking down an alleyway, we came across a Cornish Bakery. The display of Cornish pasties was extremely tempting. Christine declared she couldn’t eat a whole one and suggested sharing, a logical, if not unfortunate thing. I now have a new standard in excellence. Filled with lamb chunks, potato and carrot pieces, with lashings of pepper, it was superb. I could have eaten a whole one.

We made our way back to the car park, thrilled with our short visit to this beautiful city. It is one of the prettiest central city areas we have ever been in, full of history, and wonderful architecture.

We drove back up the hill, once again admiring the glorious houses lining the main street, although not relishing living on such an incline. With the GPS set for the town of Frome, about 20kms away. Smaller than Bath, Frome was once the largest town in Somerset before Bath became the society capital of the county. Google Maps took us into the centre of town, set deep in a valley, and it was obvious that parking was not going to be an easy thing. While Christine searched for a solution, I had no choice but to go with the flow and drive up the other side of the valley and get lost, trying to turn around. Eventually, we made it part way back down the hill and found a street that had parking available. It looked as though we could use a series of alleyways to wind our way down to the town centre. Our complete lack of planning proved a winner. We soon found ourselves walking down a couple of gorgeous narrow streets, filled with all manner of interesting shops, including a wool shop. It was a charming walk down, better than the main street itself. We walked around for a while, admiring the town, exploring the little side streets and lovely shops, until the threat of rain and dropping temperatures signalled an end to the day’s wonderful weather. We made our way back up to the car and set a course for home, the end to what was one of our best days of the whole trip.

Frome was very cute

20 May – Porstmouth and Salsibury – Planning for the day included dropping the car back in Salisbury by 5:30pm. We set out early enough to get us to Portsmouth for the opening of the Naval Docks at 10am, stopping along the way to top up the little fuel tank. It is a good thing that the car doesn’t use much in the way of petrol because it was £1.45/L ($A2.72), not the kind of expense we could handle for long with the kilometres we do in Australia.

The first exhibit we visited was HMS Victory. It is still a commissioned naval ship, and at 245 years of service, is the oldest in the World. Following the Battle of Trafalgar, it was repaired, then left at anchor in Portsmouth until 1922, when it was dry-docked.

Nowadays, the Victory is undergoing major restoration work. The hull timbers are in a condition that would mean the collapse of the vessel without intervention. A 20 year project is well underway to scrap the timbers back and treat them in a way to preserve and strengthen them. The props that hold the hull up are computer controlled, to automatically adjust to relieve stresses and strains. Unfortunately, this means that a large canopy has been erected over all but the bow and stern, and the masts have been taken down. I would have loved to stand on the quarter-deck and look down across the sweep of the main deck and up at the masts and rigging. Oh well, it was not to be.

HMS VIctory a few years back when she could be seen in all her glory

We boarded the ship into onto the gun-deck, one layer down. This is where all the big guns were used, and the sounds and turmoil must have been horrific. Each visitor is given a personal audio guide, the best we have encountered on any tour. At each station, you simply point the device at the station, wait for the beep, then hold the device to your ear. This means that you are in charge of the timing of the audio. It was a mixture of factual information and a re-enactment of the events leading up to and during the Battle of Trafalgar. As we moved through the vessel, up onto the main deck, into captain Hardy’s day cabin and down into the very depths of the huge ship, we really felt as though we could understand what life was like for the 800 crew who manned the vessel. Some of the facts presented were amazing. All of the many glazed stern windows were removed prior to joining battle to prevent flying glass shards. It took 200 men 2 hours to raise the anchors. The giant capstans were below decks and the enormous anchor ropes (cables) ran the length of the gun-deck.

It was particularly moving to stand in the spot on the quarter-deck where Nelson was shot. The audio gave an emotional description of how he was carried below to the surgeon, his faced covered on his instructions so that the crew did not know he had fallen. It took Nelson another four hours to die, his spine shattered by the musket ball.

From the Victory, we had a cup of tea in the boat shed, home to many craft in the throws of restoration, then moved on to the Warrior. It was amazing to see the progress made in naval ships in the hundred years between Victory and Warrior. The latter is twice the length of Victory, although only slightly beamier. The most startling thing was the head height below decks. No more stooping to walk, or banging heads on overhead beams. The warrior was spacious, including the accommodation for crew. With a combination of steam and power, she could manage 17 knots, a very fast rate in those days. Although carrying fewer guns than Victory, she had far greater fire power, with 10 of her guns being modern explosive shell firing type, rather than a solid iron ball. Warrior was built to counter the French build up of naval power, but never actually saw any action, serving during one of Britain’s more peaceful times.

HMS Warrior

Unlike Victory, warrior is still afloat, her steel hull being impervious to the marine worm that was Victory’s undoing. I climbed down to the depths of the engine room, to inspect the massive twin steam engines, looking remarkably well preserved. The whole ship looks in great shape, as though she could set sail tomorrow. It certainly presents an imposing sight overlooking Portsmouth Gun Quay.

All shipped out for the day, we made our way back to the little seafood stall on the quay that sold collections of unusual stuff. The man was just putting up a sign saying he was out of whelks and octopus, but we ordered a mixture of what ever else he had. Well, it was certainly different. Served cold with some chunks of tiger bread, the bread was the star of the day. The jellied eel was the next best, but the rest of the fare was very ordinary indeed. Still, we had to try.

Back in the car, we made our way back to Salisbury, mostly on the M27 motorway. By the time we got there, it was 3:30, so we figured it was best to return the car rather than find somewhere to park and then have to watch the time. We had booked 6:40 train tickets back to Dilton Marsh so we had 3 hours to explore Salisbury.

From the U-Drive, we walked towards the spire of the cathedral, visible anywhere in Salisbury. It marked the start of one of our GPS Walks on the phone so we followed a marked route for a while, reading about the various features we encountered. The cathedral was one surrounded by a fortress wall, and the enclosed area and various gates are quite marvellous. The cloisters too are very beautiful. We spent a while just sitting in the grounds, along with a good crowd of people picnicking or soaking up sun.

The city centre is a delight, full of medieval buildings and quaint shops or square. The Avon River (a different one to Bath Avon) splits into three arms as it makes its way through the town, so there are lots of pretty little stone bridges. We stopped on one to watch a guy peeling bits of bread from his roll and dropping them into the water, a huge trout appeared from nowhere to engulf the bread. The water was crystal clear and flowing fast, but it was pretty much impossible to see the fish until the bread hit.

We walked on to wards the station and found a small pub aptly called the railway Tavern nearby, deciding to spend some wait time having a beer.  It was one of those places where everyone knew everyone (except us of course) and every word seemed to start with F. Still, the beer was cheap and the surroundings comfortable.

When we got to the train station, we asked about getting off at Dilton Marsh, because it is not a regular stop. We were told to advise the conductor, and to tell him before getting on the train. The train pulled in and we searched in vain for the conductor. It was only two carriages so I fifured he would be easy to find and climbed aboard, turned around, and Christine had vanished. I got off again, and saw her up the platform and called to her. I got back on, turned around again to find her sprawled on the deck. In her haste, she had tripped. The rail staff rushed over, most concerned and we got her up, bruised and scraped, but still mobile. It was a close call. As the conductor was checking our tickets, he noted that we needed Dilton Marsh, so we felt safe from the horros of the train charging through our stop.

When we did get off, we were joined by about ten others anyway, so we need not have worried. We often overthink things.

21 May – Westbury – Our last day in County Wiltshire. We actually did little, other than a long walk into town to the Aldi store. Christine has finished her Vegemite. Web sites say that Vegemite is available in most big supermarkets in England, but we have tended to be near smaller Tescos, Aldis or the like. Aldi did have a Marmite clone, that she decided to try, declaring it not as nice, but tolerable. I actually thought it was better than Vegemite, although I wouldn’t tell Ash Barty that.

Tomorrow, it is off to Cardiff.

 

London, May 2023

May 21, 2023 /

10 May – Brussels to London – We did not have to leave the apartment until 11am and our train to England was timed for a 1pm departure so we were afforded a leisurely pack-up. Christine proved just how leisurely it was by falling in to a deep sleep after the packing was done. I sat and watched stuff on BBC News.

The rain seemed to hold off on us but we still caught the bus down the hill to the Metro. Our trip took us to Arts-Loi, to change to get to Gare Midi. Somehow, we got the right train, but going the wrong direction, which became apparent once we hit the end of the line. Fortunately, we had the time to ride the train all the way back through Arts-Loi and go the correct way.

Entry into the Eurostat Terminal is like an airport, with full screening of baggage and body. The difference to the airport is that you still have your luggage with you, it hasn’t been taken away on the conveyor belt, so Christine’s got pulled over when scanning detected a knife. There were no guns or handcuffs involved, just a nice young man who dealt sympathetically with the little old lady with the knife in her luggage. Once she had pulled out all her undies and found the knife in the kitchen bag, we were on our way again.

The train itself is far from the best we have been on. The seats are a little lacking in leg room and don’t recline at all. There was also a lack of USB outlets, although power outlets were available. We had left our adaptors in the main luggage so accessing them would be a pest. The train set off and we were soon out of the city and passing through rolling green farmlands, mostly filled with crops of barley, wheat and canola, much like home, except the total size of each farm was about the same as one paddock around Dowerin. The machinery being used was small too, almost like toy machines. On the plus side, the crops looked to be very healthy and promising an extremely high yield by our standards. We soon crossed the border into France and the train stopped once to pick up more passengers in Lille.

With the English Channel getting close, the train slipped into a tunnel and we spent the next 20 minutes or so underground and underwater. They really should have made a glass channel tunnel. All that could be seen was the occasional flash of light from another train or vehicle. Christine took the opportunity to fall asleep again. When we emerged into daylight again, I woke her to show that we were in England but she just did an eye-roll and went back to sleep.  It was left to me to admire the scenery. The landscape did actually change. The fields of crops had gone, to be replaced by fields with sheep a few cattle. The vegetation also seemed to have changed, with more in the way of trees and stands of timber.

In seemingly no time, we were on the outskirts of London and the train began to spend increasingly more time underground. I had roused Christine again and she took it seriously this time. It was a pleasure to be able to read all the signage as we made our way through St Pancras Station and out into the wild. It was another Venice moment when you emerge from the rail station to be greeted with the bedlam of the Grand Canal. Walking out of St Pancras to be greeted by a crush of London cabs and a couple of red double deckers sliding by was surreal. We had actually arrived. Britain has been so much part of our lives through literature, television, friends  and  relatives that there was almost a sense of “home”.  Kings Cross Station is across the road and the Underground was easy to find. We had pre-purchased Oyster Cards for use on London Transport and had a £10 credit, which we topped up with another £10. Then it was on to the tube train, which looked like something from the 1950s. It rattled and banged through the narrow tunnels, sometimes creating a screaming sound that most passengers seemed immune to. I noticed some men reading the newspaper, a sight that I never saw in Europe and rarely see in Perth anymore. It must be a British thing.

We got out at Victoria Station to change for Clapham Junction. We failed to find the right tube, only to discover that we had to take a proper train, which would cost us £4.30 for a short ride across the river. We will need to get a better handle on London transport. We alighted at Clapham Junction and walked the 1.2km to our house on the Shaftesbury Park Estate in Battersby. The area is very pretty. The estate was built in 1874 by a group that wanted to improve the housing conditions of workers and provide them with actual houses. The benevolent group built over 1200 homes in the area, constructed in identical blocks of 10 terraced two storey houses. It was named after Lord Shaftesbury, a prominent campaigner for improved working class housing. The streets are all tree lined and the whole effect is quite striking. Across the road from us is the Shaftesbury Park Primary, a big four storey structure that is very busy in the morning and afternoon.

The Eurostar and our place in Battersea (the corner apartment)

Our host Samantha, was very pleased to see us. She had been messaging us seeking information of our whereabouts because she needed to catch a train to Wales. In our efforts to navigate the Underground, we had missed her messages. After a hasty handover, we were on our own and unpacked, before heading down to the nearest supermarket to pick up a frozen pizza, salad, cereal and, of course, some wine.

11 May – London Eye and Tower Bridge – The first action of the day after breakfast was to walk down to the local Sainsbury Supermarket, which had a bit more choice than the Co-op we had visited the previous night. Here we picked up food for a couple of nights, finding the rule of thumb from Europe still applied, roughly the same price as Perth but Dollars are Pounds (ie double the cost). It doesn’t take long to be lulled by this. You see a pack of four chicken drumsticks for £5.20 and you think, “That’s ok, that’s normal.” Then you realise that the £5.20 is actually $10. Ouch. When you take into account that average earnings here are only about 70% of those in Australia, I am not sure how people manage.

We set off for the London Eye. We had booked a couple of activities in advance, using credits we had through a cancelled hotel stay with Luxury Escapes. We often don’t take a lot of touristy excursions because of the highly inflated prices but it does not seem so bad when you are using credits that must be used in a calendar year and the original hotel stay was bought with Qantas Points anyway. It does not feel the same as shelling out actual cash. The London Eye ticket was for a specific time, 2pm, and access before was not permitted. We spent the waiting time strolling along the river bank, admiring the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. The crowds were certainly out and about, particularly tour groups and quite a few groups of school aged teenagers, probably on school tours. We ducked into a café for a feed of fish and chips, which proved to live up to the hype that is often afforded to the British staple. We took them outside to eat, but the heavens decided to send down rain in big drops. Along with loads of others, we scuttled inside.

The rain continued unabated until it was time to get on the wheel. Fortunately, the rain drops on the plexiglass did not detract from the experience, which was really amazing. Being able to look down on the surround grand buildings was worth the experience. It takes a full 30 minutes to complete the revolution so there is lots of time to fully appreciate the scenery. Our pod was like all others, full of selfie posing tourists and lots of “oohs and ahhs”. It was most enjoyable and well worth the Qantas Points.

From the London Eye, it was back on a bus and went down river to the Tower Bridge. We got off a stop early to walk the last part along the river and admire the bridge as we approached it. The fact that the Tower of London is adjacent to the bridge makes the scene even more spectacular. I always thought that the Tower Bridge was so named because of its twin tower structures but it is its proximity to the Tower of London that gives it the name.

Once again, we had some tickets to the bridge using Qantas Points, entitling us to climb up to the walkways that span the towers at the top. Christine elected to forego the 290 steps and use the lift while I foolishly decided to take the steps and set my calf muscles on fire. I made it though, happy to pass a number of people much younger than me taking much needed breathers along the way. There is a lot of really interesting information about the building of the bridge laid out along the way and a wonderful film shot in 1906 showing the horse-drawn traffic of the time and the bridge opening. These days, the bridge opens around 85 times a year, mostly to let smaller cruise ships pass. Most of the old docks upstream of the tower bridge are no longer in use.

The walkways provide wonderful views of the surrounding banks and the Tower of London. There are some glass panels set into the floor with a mirrored ceiling so visitors can take some strange but interesting pictures.  We laughed at the people lying down on the glass floor trying to capture a special moment. We made our way back down, (going down was easy in comparison) and on to the engine room. In the old days, the bridge was steam driven and the two huge engines have been retained as part of a display.

We caught the bus back home, requiring a change of buses and taking pride that we were starting to master the bus system. The Red Double Decker Buses are so much fun, if one has the time. The Underground is not fun at all. It is noisy and involves a lot of changing tubes and going directions you don’t really want to go. Most regular users shun the upper deck of the bus and so we can usually grab the upper front seats and get a wonderful panoramic view of the route we are travelling on. It is so entertaining. We find almost every district we pass through has a recognisable name, many from Monopoly of course, or some from just our large film and television exposure to London over the years.

12 May – Tower of London etc – Christine mapped out a plan for the day, starting at the Tower of London, and working our way through to Trafalgar Square and Buckingham Palace. Planning trips around the city is an art form, there are so many possibilities. Rarely does the Underground suit our needs, it always involves multiple changes.

We got off the bus just after it crossed London Bridge and took a leisurely walk along the river bank to the Tower. Unfortunately, we were not able to get any tickets from our Qantas Points source for the Tower, so we had to fork out a ghastly £46 ($A90) to go in. We thought about it, but then we might never be back, so in we went. How could the extortionate entry fee be justified? Well, we emerged over 3 hours later, absolutely thrilled with our experience.

The first part of the fortification was the White Tower, built around 1080 by William the Conqueror. Obviously, it has had a lot of upkeep and maintenance over the years and remains in excellent condition compared to many of the castles we have seen. The rest of the large complex was built between 1150 and 1600. Having recently watch the Netflix series White Queen, which used the complex in many of its scenes, added a lot of interest to the tour. There are audio guides and Beefeater tours available, but I really don’t think they are needed, so good is the quality of the self-guided walk around and the informative signage available. Many of the walls have elaborate carvings etched into them, done by poor souls who were incarcerated in the Tower at some point. Elisabeth I seemed to be particularly fond of throwing people in the tower and had a very broad definition of what constituted treason.  There is a lot of climbing narrow stairways and narrow passageways but the time passed quickly, each section holding our attention. The weather was up to its usual worst, which helped keep the crowds down and moving through was easy.

After walking the outer walls and rooms, we settled in to the café for a coffee and sausage roll. London has retained the old tradition of having cafeterias, places where you select your own food from a displayed array and pay accordingly. There were full hot meals being served, along with a variety of sandwiches, rolls and snacks. It was good to see the use of porcelain crockery and silverware, rather than horrible single use stuff. We need more of these back in Perth.

Spirits restored, we went through the Crown Jewels display. Having just seen many of the objects in the Coronation ceremony on TV, it was fascinating to see the actual objects. I had always assumed that the real items are hidden away somewhere and the displayed things are fakes but it seems the genuine articles are the ones presented. The display is very well laid out and allows viewers to get up very close, except for a few sheets of glass which I assume are close to unbreakable. Photography is banned, which meant that some people had to experience the  terrifying ordeal of putting their phone away. Even more startling than the actual royal regalia, is the huge array of goldware, plates, jugs, bowls and various ornaments, all dazzling in their brilliance. It really is a display of incredible wealth, and rather pointless. Most objects were a gift from some dignitary or country at some stage and probably didn’t have a huge impact on each new monarch when they were presented.

Next it was in to the White Tower itself, four storeys of armoury displays. There were countless suits of armour, many displayed on mannequins astride horseback, the horse too resplendent with their shiny armour. Given that many  of the suits of armour on display were from past Kings or Princes, it is unlikely that they had to do much actual protecting, although one display showed how an armour breastplate is little protection against a cannonball. There was a vast array of killing implements on display, with fascinating crossbows, huge heavy swords and early firearms that would probably have missed everything they were fired at.

The final display was the old Royal Mint, in use back when coin making was done by hand, punching impressions onto metal sheeting using a die and a big hammer. We loved everything, but it was time to push on, having already realised that the day’s plans would have to be curtailed.

We caught a bus towards Trafalgar Square. One of our missions was to find a large Post Office. We were carrying £220 that we had held since 2017, and when we tried to spend some of it, we got a knock back, Britain having moved over to the polymer money like Australia in recent years. The first Post Office we found in The Strand couldn’t do it, but they directed us to one in Regent Street, so it was a bit of a game to navigate around on foot and find the next one. Around us, the city was bustling, the crowds on the footpaths heavy and the traffic horrendous. We stopped on the way to admire Trafalgar Square, with its famous lions guarding each corner, and Lord Nelson standing atop the column. It is not only an important monument, but it is a major intersection and crossing the roads around the square takes patience. From the square, Big Ben rears magnificently at the end of Whitehall and the Admiralty Arch leads the way to The Mall and Buckingham Palace.

We located our Post Office and changed our money. By coincidence, the couple next to us were also exchanging old notes, a similar amount, and the cashiers had been in the act of counting a large stack of Australian Dollars.

Done for the day, we found a bus to take us back over the Thames to home, exhausted but well satisfied with our day.

13 May – Westminster Abbey, The Mall, Buckingham Palace, West End, Soho – We planned to fill in some of the things we didn’t have time for yesterday. We set out early, as in 8:30, a time when we are often still getting out of bed. We caught the #87 bus which would take us across the Thames into the Westminster district. As we approached Westminster Abbey, I noticed some street signs talking about transport changes and closures but we ignored them because they were talking about 11am onwards.

We alighted at Westminster Abbey and admired the beauty of the building from the outside. We didn’t go in because (a) it was too early (b) there were no bookings left (c) they wanted a ridiculous fee of £58 a head to see inside. We have better things to do with $A100. I feel sorry for the residents of London who don’t seem to get any cheaper access to many of these places. I am sure their taxes are used in the restoration and maintenance of London’s famous landmarks and should not be charged the terrible amounts that tourists are charged.

We walked through the nearby Parliament Square Garden and admired the statues of significant people that were dotted around. I wondered whether Nelson Mandela would have been thrilled to share a spot with Winston Churchill and Jan Smuts, former Prime Minister of South Africa. From there, we got back on the bus and made our way back to Trafalgar Square. We walked through the Admiralty Arch, which is the portal to The Mall, the beautiful avenue through St James Park to Buckingham Palace, and strolled down The Mall, watching the many workers scurrying around packing away fencing and equipment from the Coronation Parade from the previous week. There seemed to be a lot of police activity too, with cars tearing around, lights flashing and sirens blaring. There always seems to be a police car charging off somewhere. We even saw two cars each with lights flashing pass each other in opposite directions and the cops waved to each other. A very active squirrel caught our attention for a while, scurrying around and up and down nearby trees. He was a brave little fellow because there were a lot of dogs running around off-lead in the parklands.

After a coffee stop in the park, we made our way to the Victoria Memorial in front of the palace and joined the crowds milling around for selfies. The palace itself is actually smaller than I imagined. It is still a lot bigger than any house we have ever owned but the reality is less than the images. We felt the same about the Houses of Parliament, impressive by any standards, but smaller than our expectations.  It probably isn’t the building itself that is the attraction, because it is unremarkable compared to a great many others around London, but rather the traditions that lie behind it. The setting is certainly spectacular, St James Park and The Mall providing the perfect approach. Beyond Buckingham Palace, the path leads between the palace gardens and The Green Park, which had become a huge storage area for crowd control equipment and fencing. It looked as though there was at least another week’s work to move everything away.

We walked up to Hyde Park Corner, famous as a place of the orators, although none were in evidence at that time. The tradition that the location was one for free speech comes from its origins as an execution square, where the condemned were given a last chance to say something meaningful. Into Hyde Park itself, we consulted the map and decided to take a stroll down to the Lido, the swimming beach area. The lake, called the Serpentine, is man-made and fed from a number of bores. Although it is filled with swans and ducks, it is a popular swimming spot and was even used for the Olympic Triathlon in 2012. The pathways around the park were quite busy with joggers, walkers, roller bladers and a lot of people who appeared to be in training for cross-country skiing, using strange, elongated roller skates and ski poles. There are horse trails too, with beautifully groomed mounts and equally well groomed riders.

Leaving the park, we got onto a bus and cut back across the city to Piccadilly Circus, where we alighted and wandered along Shaftesbury Avenue soaking up the atmosphere. The crowds had swelled by this time and as we headed down into China Town and through to Leicester Square, the streets were hopping. The fine Saturday weather had brought a lot of people out. The smells issuing forth from the many food shops in China Town made us think of eating, and we scrutinized quite few menus but decided we really just wanted a snack or something small. We pushed on with the walk, through Soho until we found a Marks and Spencer. Pommie friends have often extolled the virtues of the good old M&S, so we took a look around at the clothes on offer. The range was excellent, the prices reasonable for what was good quality, but nothing tempted us. We opted instead for the café and ordered a couple of things encouragingly titled ciabattas, one bacon based and the other omelette filled. It is a good thing we added a side of chips because the ciabatta turned out to be an ordinary bread bun. The bacon was edible but the omelette filling was leathery egg on a bed of chutney, creating a barely edible combination. The chips were yummy. Even though the food was a fail, some things still stood out as standard for Aussie establishments to match. Again, they used washable crockery and cutlery. Secondly, there was a large water container and a stack of glasses for diners to avail themselves of instead of having to buy an overpriced plastic bottle of water.

By this time, we figured we had had enough and located a bus stop for a bus to take us towards Trafalgar to connect to the #87 back to Battersea. We waited for what seemed ljke a ridiculously long time but our number was not forthcoming. We consulted Google maps and made the decision to keep wandering along ourselves to Trafalgar. The square was filled with people carrying banners and placards, most calling for a Free Palestine, but a few calling for a stronger Israel. We skirted the crowds and found a stop a little way down Whitehall. By the time we got there, we realised we had walked close to 10km and we felt it. The same thing happened. No buses came at all.  There were a few other people at the stand but they slowly drifted away. Glancing up the road to Trafalgar, we noticed a steady stream of buses going around, with nothing turning down Whitehall. Looking the other way down to Parliament Square, we could see all the police cars and road closure signs. Then, we remembered the notices about service disruption we had seen earlier. There was also a big protest down at Parliament Square, so the buses had obviously found an alternative route. We relocated to another stop on the #87 route before Trafalgar Square, but still nothing. Finally, we headed into Charing Cross Underground and caught a train to Vauxhall, so we could catch a bus back home. We arrived home, quite shattered and having clocked up 12.5km. We were tired, but very well content with the day.

14 May – Battersea Park – We needed a day of rest, so we spent the morning doing little , other than catching up on a few jobs and booking a few future rail tickets, along with the all important research into travel options. It is a big job, because nothing is simple. On the continent, there tends to be one rail option to compare with Flixbus as the coach option. Here, there are multiple rail companies and many forms of ticket and the coach options are limited. The travel planning sites like Rome2Rio and Google, become unreliable when there are so many options and can be quite misleading. Sometimes, with two of us working, it is like a bidding war. “I have a train with 2 changes for £38 each.” Followed by “I can do a £30 with only one change but an hour’s wait in between.” We may not always get the best deal but we don’t give in easily.

Outside, the sun shone beautifully and things looked wonderful. We noticed on Google Maps that there was a car boot sale of antiques and bric-a-brac nearby every Sunday so we set off to have a look. It meant crossing the rail lines, via a long overhead bridge to get over the South Western line followed by a tunnel to get under the local train. The car boot sale proved to be a non-starter because they wanted £2 each just to get in and it looked like there were no more than 20 cars, so we gave it a miss and walked a short distance to Battersea Park. The lovely weather had brought everyone out. There were a couple of cricket matches going and hordes of people just soaking up the sun, or exercising in some form.  We sat for a while and watched one of the cricket matches. The guys took it seriously and they looked the part replendent in their whites, but the standard was pretty poor. The bowling lacked any form of threat and the batsmen declined the opportunity to put the ball over the boundary. It didn’t matter, because they were all enjoying themselves, including the square-leg umpire, who had a stubby to keep him lubricated. The park is beautiful, and quite large, extending through to the river, with Albert Bridge at one end and Chelsea Bridge at the other. The lure of an “English Garden” area attracted us but it looked more like an Aussie garden overgrown with weeds. One of the things we have noticed is that many of the plants here are what we call weeds back home. It’s what happens when you take a plant from its natural environment and it likes its new surroundings more.

Battersea Park

Back home, we headed for a lie down, a rarity of late, and watched Sam Kerr and the Chelsea girls take out the Women’s FA Cup Final. There is so much more we could have done in London. The possibilities are endless. We didn’t even get to do the Abbey Road Crosswalk. Tomorrow, we head to Wiltshire, and a quieter life.

Belgium, May 2023

May 15, 2023 /

6 May – Woerden to Brussels – We had a 12:40 Flixbus to Brussels booked so we managed to enjoy a leisurely pack-up before walking down to the train station to travel to Utrecht. We are pretty good with the Dutch trains now and the NS App is the best transport app we have ever used. It will be a shame to have to delete it once we leave The Netherlands. We reached Utrech with a couple of hours to kill so we sat in the comfort of the “Tagged-On” area. The big stations in the Netherlands have very large controlled areas, which require a ticket to access. All the shops and food outlets are in the controlled area as well, which means the only people that are in there have a ticket. We found that the areas surrounding the major train stations in The Netherlands are clean and don’t seem to be such a magnet for homeless people that they are in other countries. Maybe the system works.

We ended up being in a bit of a rush to catch our bus, emerging from the wrong side of the station and walking further than we had to. Our bus arrived shortly after us but we found that our specially booked front seats were occupied by another couple. We showed them our ticket but they just turned away and ignored us. The driver sorted it and moved a few people around so we could have our seats. It is crazy when you actually feel bad about things like this because we had paid extra to book these seats and the other people had not, but we still did. Christine got an evil eye from the old woman we had displaced.

The landscape changed very slowly as we drove inland, mainly due to fewer canals. There was little indication that we had crossed the border and entered Belgium but a few tiny hillocks started to appear and there were a few actual forests dotted around. We dropped off some passengers in Antwerp before heading to Brussels and the Gard Noord, or Northern Station. What a change from Utrecht. Admittedly, Gard Noord seems to be in the throes of an overhaul but it was a dump. We had to lug our bags up a massive flight of steps because there are no escalators or lifts that we could find. We struggled with the ticketing process before asking for help from a group of three young people standing nearby. The girl turned out to be a Melbournian currently living in Berlin, the other two from Brussels. I told one guy where we wanted to go and he suggested platform 5 would do it. I asked him about buying a ticket and he said that because we were so close to the centre of town we should ignore it, no one would check. Once at Gare du Midi, we would have to get a ticket for the Metro to our final destination. We thanked them and got on the train on Platform 5, right alongside a uniformed official. We were terrified she was going to ask for a ticket the way they do in Germany but she wasn’t interested. Finally, after alighting at Gare du Midi and finding the Metro, working out the ticket system and getting on a subway, we were bound for our destination in Audeghem, a suburb of Brussels. The apartment proved to be just as described, with one thing left out. Nowhere did it say that it was near the top of Square du Sacre-Coeur, not as steep as its famous namesake in Paris, but still a long steady hill climb towing our luggage behind. Belgium is one of the Low-Countries. There aren’t supposed to be hills. We arrived, greeted by our host, unpacked and only ventured a short distance to a small grocery shop to get some eggs for dinner and alcohol to sooth the soul.

7 May – Brussels – When we got up it was raining, after breakfast it was raining and by lunchtime, it was still raining. We had considered going in to the city centre but the rain put us off, as well as the fact that it was Sunday and Belgium seems to be more like Germany than The Netherlands, in that everything closes. Around us, the only things open were a 24 hour Servo which sold a few staples, and a little convenience store up the street that at least had a good range of fruit and veg. By 1:30, the rain had eased to tolerable levels and we set off to walk the neighbourhood. There was a bus waiting in the nearby terminus so we took the opportunity to work out about buying tickets. It proved easy, with a machine on the bus. This would give us access up and down the dreaded hill.

We noticed a regular stream of people all heading in one direction so we asked advice from one woman who had paused on her bike. She said that they were heading for a forest area, down the bottom of the hill (meaning we had to come back up). There was a lake in another direction that we knew about from Google Maps but our guide suggested the forest was better.

Off we went, down hill in the light rain. The houses around here are beautiful and must be very expensive, some being three storeys and most having a substantial yard attached with gardens, unlike the terraced houses at the top of the hill. It was a beautiful walk, and when the forest opened out, it was obvious that it was worth the effort. The brilliant green of the forest is stunning to people used to the dull green of eucalypt forests. The understorey was really thick in places and some of the trees were very tall and straight. On checking Google Maps, we found the forest is the The Sonian Forest and stretches a long way towards Waterloo (of The Battle fame). It is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and is composed mainly of beech and oak. We used Christine’s plant identifying App to check on several interesting plants, find  a stand of hazel and some sweet chestnuts. It was very beautiful. Emerging from the forest, we walked through the lake area, more of a sculptured park, and admired the different waterfowl. It never really stopped raining but it was light and there was no wind to speak of, so it was quite easy to tolerate.

Our street in Audeghem and the nearby forest.

Fortunately, the last guest in the AirBnB had left a frozen lasagne so the lack of shopping was not an issue. We enjoyed it, so thanks to the last guest.

8 May – Brussels – Today we braved the public transport system to head off into the city. The rain has gone, to be replaced by fog and cool temperatures. We avoided the dreaded walk down the hill by catching the bus. It was only a couple of stops to the Metro Station and we managed that, bought a whole day card for 8€ each and set off on the Metro to Brussels Central. So far, so good. We even managed to find our way out of the Metro. Some major road works just outside upset our walking plans a bit but after a couple of wrong turns we found the right path towards our destination, the place where we would have to come tomorrow to catch a tour to Antwerp. We always like to check things out in advance. The address given proved to be the Main Tourist Bureau so all was good.

The Grand Place in Brussels

Our next stop was only a 100m walk to the Grand Place, the huge medieval plaza for which Brussels is so famous. This has been described as one of the best plazas in the World, and it has earned UNESCO ranking as a World Heritage Site. This call is completely understandable. It is absolutely amazing. One huge building was originally a Bread House in the market, surely the most elaborate such building anywhere. Nowadays it is the Brussels Museum. Every building around the market was covered in ornate carvings and statues, and most had lashings of gold leaf on display. The crowds were starting to build up and it is always handy to stand near to an English speaking tour guide to pick up some bit of info. The most spectacular building was the Town Hall, sporting an enormous spire and a seemingly endless row of statues adorning a ledge on the third storey. Remarkable, a lot of the stonework on the lower sections showed no signs of any mortar, the carved stones fitting perfectly together with no gaps at all between them. That such a glorious square could have been constructed in the 16th Century and be made up of market buildings, public buildings and guild houses rather than churches, is incredible. Major damage was done to a lot of the buildings in 1697 when an invading French force bombarded the square with flaming cannonballs. No only were a lot of buildings severely burnt, but a lot of old masterpieces were also lost.

We wandered through some of the surrounding narrow streets, admiring the quaint cobbled streets, mostly filled with cafes and high end fashion shops. We came across the Stock Exchange Building, a large stone Neo-Renaissance building, currently undergoing refurbishment. Opposite is St Nicholas’ Church, whose walls date back as for as 1000AD. It too suffered during the French bombardment, and inside, there is a cannon ball still visible half embedded in one of the huge supporting columns.

Jeannek Pis and Manneken Pis

One of the famous sights in Brussels is the Manneken Pis, a small statue of a little boy urinating. One of the legends has him putting out a lit fuse of some explosives set to destroy the city walls. Every second shop seems to be selling small models of this lad in some form or other. We thought we had come across it down an alleyway but to our amusement, it was his female counterpart, Jeannek Pis. Whereas the original dates from 1619, the girl only came on the scene in 1987. Later, we came across the boy, to find he had been dressed up in a suit. Apparently, his clothes change on a regular basis. Somewhere else, there is a Zinneke Pis, a dog.

The beautiful Galeries Royales Saint-Hubert, Europe’s first shopping mall built in 1847.

It being lunchtime, we headed for a row of sidewalk eateries and settled on a favourite in Holland and Belgium, fried chips and sauce. There are lots of stalls and small shops that sell chips in upturned cardboard pyramids with a choice of eight or so sauces. These stalls always have a line up, so popular are the chips. They proved to be hot, crips and non-greasy so we could see the attraction. We help them down with a sausage of unknown pedigree but equally delicious. The stall offered a selection of seven different Belgium beers, but we noticed they ranged in alcohol content from 7.5% to 9.5%, too much for us in the middle of the day (or any time for that matter). We managed to find a regular pilsener so we were able to help the chips go down without falling down. We were joined at our table by a friendly couple from Colorado, who were visiting Brussels as part of a Rhine River cruise. We chatted for a while about our respective travels, grateful to find someone to talk to after weeks of non-English speaking people.

Our stomachs replenished, we set off to take the Metro to Gare Midi. Our next move will be to take the Eurostar to London and we were keen to check out just where to catch it from and what is involved. Getting to Gare Midi meant going to Artes-Loi and changing lines. What a performance. After the amazing efficiency of The Netherlands, Belgium has proven a bit chaotic. The rule in rail or Metro stations seems to be that only every second escalator works and lifts are to be hidden from view. We followed signs and went in circles a couple of times, before some officials noticed our concern and shunted us into a lift. We finally made Gare Midi, which proved to be a little more organised, and found the “Tunnel Train” sign. Everything there looked like an airport, with the normal security checks and immigration counters.

Happy that we knew what we were doing, we set off to walk to a feature known as the Port de Hal, a medieval gate once part of the old city walls. The area immediately outside the station was like so many others, dirty, smelly and filled with people just standing around in groups. We scuttled through the area and located a long park that contained the castle. The walls have long since been demolished, along with all the other gates, but this one has been preserved and stands imposingly over the surrounding city area. We admired the structure from the outside, not bothering with the armament’s museum inside.

Port du Hal

We re-boarded the Metro just down the road, changed lines again at Artes-Loi (we’re getting better at this) and rode the Metro back to Hermann-Debroux. There is a large supermarket next to the Metro and, being a Monday, it was actually open (do I sound bitter?). We stocked up on food for the next two days and caught the bus up the hill to home, once again, exhausted, as we should be.

9 May – Antwerp – With an afternoon excursion to Antwerp booked, we lazed around in the morning. There was little choice really because it was raining consistently and the forecast indicated little let-up for the day.

We prepared ourselves for rain with coats and umbrellas and headed down the hill. We found it easy going down and quite pleasant walking in the rain, with next to no wind. Once again, we mastered the Metro and made our way to Gare Central, going on to the pick-up point at the Tourist Centre. Our guide was Margurite, a woman only a little younger than us, who would conduct the tour in English, (the majority) and Spanish, in two dialects, including one that would suit a Portuguese couple. We set off to walk to the tour coach, all trotting behind her blue umbrella. A few people had not brough umbrellas and looked like they wanted to go home.

The coach made its way out of Brussels along the same route we had followed coming in on the Flixbus so we at least got an explanation of some of the interesting sights we had seen before. We sat opposite a Canadian couple and across from a couple from Ohio so we all chatted away about our respective trips. The American couple had won a cruise anywhere they wanted with Royal Caribbean via a raffle.

The coach deposited us in the harbour area and it was a short walk up to the Main Square. This was similar to the one in Brussels but not as spectacular, it being overall smaller and the buildings lacking the ostentatious gold trimmings. The steady rain meant that we could not fully appreciate the square and left to head to the cathedral.

The City Square in Antwerp

Every European has one or more huge cathedrals or massive churches. Antwerp’s is one of the greats. Begun in 1352, it has an interior length of 118m and a towering spire of 123m. The inside is an enormous complex, with numerous alters, names and cloisters capable of holding a staggering 25,000 people. It still functions as a church. It is also home to four wonderful works by the Master Painter Ruebens. These were typically large trifold works, with a main centre piece and two supporting wings that can fold in to protect the painting. Our guide talked though about each one, and it was amazing to be able to see these works and know that they had been painted in the early 17th Century. We seldom do cathedral tours but this one was interesting, made more so by the knowledge that the world outside was extremely wet and cold.

After the cathedral, we were given time to find a coffee or snack. We found a warm dry spot inside a Belgian Chocolate house and indulged in a beautiful coffee but ignored the very tempting array of chocolates and sweets. Then we hit the umbrellas again and explored the nearby streets. Almost everything had closed up, with the rain keeping the big tourist crowds away. There are chocolate shops galore with highly inflated prices, along with lace shops, the quality being amazingly good and the prices surprisingly low.

The group reconvened and we walked slowly back to the bus at the harbour, stopping to learn more about the town square and the old city walls, of which little remains bar a short section and a watch gate. I think everyone was more than happy just to get back on the bus and head for Brussels. By this time, it was peak hour and it took an age to get out of Antwerp, the guide doing her best to point out things of interest while we were stuck in traffic snarls.  We departed the bus, made out way through the continuing rain to Gare Central and collapsed onto a Metro train for the trip home. Luckily, there was a bus almost straight away so we didn’t even have to walk up the nasty hill. It would have been a much better trip without the persistent rain but it was still worth it. Antwerp is a city with a fair bit to offer. We only had a small taste.

After dinner, we prepared for the next day’s move across the Channel.

The Netherlands, May 2023

May 8, 2023 /

1 May – Cologne to Woerden – We had an early start, with a 5am rise to give us plenty of time to take a tram to Koln Messe/Deutz then a regional train on to the Koln/Bonn Airport where the Flixbus terminal is. We were pretty sure we had everything right while standing on Platform 11 for the airport train but Christine decided to ask a guy dressed in orange hi-vis gear if we were on the right platform. He replied in the affirmative, peeling back his jacket to show that he was airport staff. From that point on, he acted as our personal guide, making sure we got off the train at the correct stop, taking us towards Terminal 2, navigating the various escalators and lifts and finally showing us the Flixbus terminal. I actually knew all that from our trip in but I didn’t want to disappoint him so we went along. Christine insisted on a photo shot with her new friend.

The bus trip went well, with a bit of a stop in Dusseldorf, where we bought a coffee and something strange made of pastry and delicious stuff. We were asked whether we wanted beef or pork and opted for beef but we could not detect any hint of meat at all, not that it mattered, because the thin coil of pastry stuff was one of the World’s great creations and a cardiac surgeon’s delight. After Dusseldorf, we drove through the Ruhr Valley, one of Europe’s great industrial powerhouses. There were fields of wheat and canola in abundance, but a factory or power station was always visible somewhere and the wind turbines were the biggest I’ve ever seen.

We crossed the border into The Netherlands and had fun failing to understand a whole new set of signage. In fact, The Netherlands seems to be a bit over the top with road signs. Western Australia is at the other end of the scale, with most signage being quite useless unless you already know where you are going, and even then somewhat misleading. I looked at some interchanges we went though and wondered how many accidents were caused by drivers trying to figure out which one of the ten direction signs pertained to them. Fortunately, our driver seemed to know what he was doing.

We got off the bus in Utrecht, at the Central Railway Station and found our way in. After finally mastering the German rail ticket system, we now had to develop a new set of skills. Whereas Germany takes the approach that you must buy a ticket and it’s 60€ fine if you haven’t got one, no ifs or buts. We tended to get checked on board around 25% of the time so the risk is considerable. Here in The Netherlands, they take more of an Australian approach with a ticketed entrance to the concourse and ticketing off when leaving. The main concourse at Utrecht was certainly a swish affair, with loads of eateries and excellent signage (not too much). We were soon on an IC (intercity) train that promised to get us to Woerden in a mere 12 minutes. Google maps facilitated the 750m walk from the station to our lodgings in Woerden, the beauty of the town grabbing us straight away and promising an interesting stay. Although modern Dutch architecture seems to be mostly based on featureless rectangular prisms and plain brick, there were enough older buildings along the way to give the town an endearing charm.

Our apartment in Woerden

Our lodgings proved to be clean and modern, and certainly location, location, with lots of interesting things right outside and along the street. The bedroom and bathroom are upstairs, accessed via a narrow and tightly wound spiral staircase that threatens to make Christine scream on each occasion. It’s quite normal for me to carry the baggage upstairs but now I have to carry anything that needs moving upstairs or downstairs. Otherwise, the apartment is wonderful, with a good coffee machine, dishwasher, full oven, gas hob and all the other things we have been missing. We will use Woerden as a hub to explore further afield, Amsterdam, Utrecht and Rotterdam. Accommodation in Amsterdam was ridiculously expensive and on advice from a friend who was born and bred in these parts, we chose a more central location. Thanks Marielle, good advice.

Once settled in, we headed off to the supermarket. After the poor choice available in German shops, the wealth of choice and variety was wonderful. The array of semi-prepared salads was amazing and cheap too. The shelves were well stocked, unlike the German equivalents. The only downside was that the Commonwealth Bank Travel card, so far accepted without question, would not work at the checkout. Fortunately, it worked at the automatic teller in the supermarket so we were able to pay for our goods. If the problem proves widespread, we may have to resort to the old idea of cash.

In the evening, we took a walk around our neighbourhood, taking in a beautiful Dutch windmill only a block away and a quaint little harbour area amongst the numerous canals. The harbour caters for casual visiting boats so obviously canal cruising must be a thing. There is so much to love here. We will enjoy it.

2 May – Utrecht – We spent the morning have a long lazy read of the news and researching future moves before heading out to walk more of Woerden. The temperature range for the day was forecast at 2º-12º so it was on with the thermals and coats. We spent a charming hour and a bit just wandering through the tiny streets of the little town, many filled with an array of interesting shops. Woerden seems to be a magnet for the antique collectors and artisans, so there were some wonderful window displays to pour over.

Christine bought a pretty top in one of the shops and we picked up a few veges from the amazing fruit shop in the town square. This delightful little shop has a wonderful counter that is filled with all different kinds of chopped vegetables, fruit and cheeses. You arm yourself with a container and fill it with whatever selection you want, select one of seven delicious dressings then it is weighed and you have a unique salad. It is cheap and very convenient for travellers like us. The staff at the fruit shop are happy and talkative, even if we often don’t understand. The staff at actual supermarkets are like the ones in Germany and Aldi stores in Australia, efficient and fast but far from friendly. No one packs groceries and it seems to be a competition to see if the cashier can scan all the items faster than the customer can throw them into a bag. The supermarket and the fruit shop will not take credit cards, only debit cards. Unfortunately, our Commonwealth Travel Card presents as a credit card, even though it is really a debit card with Euros loaded on it, so it gets rejected and we need cash. The automatic teller immediately opposite the teller will dispense us cash, but we pay a nasty 4€ fee for the privilege.

The modern Utrecht Central Station

In the afternoon, we caught the train into Utrecht. The central train station is a huge modern monument to efficiency, with clear signage and numerous large electronic boards keeping us informed about comings and goings. Once outside, we consulted an App called GPSmyCity to plan out way to a guided walk. The App provides guided walks to over 1400 cities around the World and the $A30 for a year is money well spent. We chose the City Introduction walk and spent the afternoon doing the rounds of the significant sights in the old part of the city. Utrecht is a beautiful canal city, with many picturesque alleyways and streetscapes. The walkways were filled with people, as we are finding everywhere. From the talk, many are tourists, although they seem to be fairly local, either Dutch or German. We certainly hear very little in the way of English spoken unless we ask around for help.

By the time we had completed out circuit and made out way back to the train, we were near exhaustion, having walked a lot of the morning and now the afternoon to go with it. On a positive note, we are managing to eat well but are both losing weight, a win-win.

3 May – Amsterdam – Today we caught the train to Amsterdam. We were happy to find that there were many trains that went direct to Amsterdam from Woerden, meaning we didn’t have to go back to Utrecht and change trains. The trip only took 38 minutes on a Sprinter, with a few stops at some of the outer Amsterdam Stations. As we slid through the suburbs and approached the city, I thought we were entering just another large European city, but that thinking changed completely as we exited the station. It is something like exiting the rail station in Venice and seeing the Grand Canal for the first time. Amsterdam is grand on every scale. Outside the station, a large plaza is crisscrossed by trams, walkways, hundreds of bicycles and an impressive canal system, with work boats, tour boats and large barges all somehow avoiding collisions. It is a perfect place for finding a place to sit and watch the busy world go by.

We used our GPSmyCity App to undertake a walk titled “Red Light District” as a way of seeing the old city (true, we were only interested in the old buildings). At first, the walk did focus on a couple of churches, then an old part of the town walls, but after that, things started to deteriorate. Being still early in the day, the streets were relatively quiet, but strewn with a lot of rubbish from the night before. We came across a cleaning team, with sweepers and motorized pickups clearing all before them, in what was obviously a daily exercise. There are certainly some interesting shops in the narrow streets along with the well-advertised viewing windows, mostly empty at this time of day. The whole scene is not one that we would bother with but the Dutch attitude of tolerance and control is better than suppression has a fair bit of merit, and no visit to Amsterdam would be complete without at least one walk through the area.

Meantime, the walk was definitely worth it for the beauty of the oldest part of the city. Often called the “Venice of the North” (along with Utrecht and Bruges), Amsterdam is a canal city. The city’s name comes from the “Damming of the River Amstel” and so the whole city is intersected by hundreds of canals, both wide and narrow, as well as having the wide Amstel River as a thoroughfare. Hence, there are numerous places where the streetscapes are amazing. We marvelled at the sight of impossibly narrow five story brick buildings seemingly so unstable that they hang forwards over the street but we later learnt that this was intentional, so that goods could be winched up from the street. In places, other buildings were actually sinking, leaning drunkenly against their neighbours.

Eventually, we emerged from the narrow backstreets into the vast “Dam”, a large square in the centre of the city and surrounded by majestic 18th Century buildings. The square is actually the original dam that held back the Amstel River, enlarged over time to create a huge open space.

From there, we made our way back down towards the rail station and harbour area to pick up a canal tour. We arrived at the designated pier (there are so many canal tours) with half an hour to spare, so we decided to walk across to the train station to find a toilet. Public toilets are rare, and always cost 50c – 1€. We figured that there would be plenty in a rail station the size of Amsterdam Central, but no, there was only one and it was on the far side of the whole complex. We made our way under the station, through a big shopping mall and emerged to see a ridiculously long line waiting. Not in urgent need, we gave up and went back to the canal tour.

Just as we were about to board, a young man came along and offered us a swap from the enclosed boat to an open one. With the weather dry, we took him up and followed to another pier. It proved to be a good choice because the guide on the boat was a true entertainer and the open nature of the boat made viewing much easier. There was a recorded commentary in English available via headphones but it was unnecessary because our guide was far more informative and funny. We appreciated the skills of the young boat skipper, maneuvering the long boat through some impossibly tight turns and avoiding the heavy water traffic. The tour took us past the Maritime Museum and the wonderful full sized replica of the “Amsterdam”, an 18th Century East Indiaman and on into the old district once again. It was good to see the same streets and canals from a completely different perspective. We came across a beautiful, cantilevered draw bridge like the one in the famous Van Gogh painting and admired the many large houseboats lining the banks of the Amstel River. The cruise was an hour very well spent, giving us considerable insight into the development of the city and its rise as a great maritime power base.

Off the canal tour, we headed back to the rail station, the toilet issue becoming more needy. There does not seem to be any requirement for food outlets to have toilet facilities here, or in Germany, and so the old trick of going into a restaurant and ordering a small coffee doesn’t work. Once that issue was settled, we strolled back down the main street and selected a likely looking place for lunch, enjoying a wonderful open sandwich and beer each. Then it was back to the train for the trip back to Woerden and home, both exhausted after another day of walking more than 10 kilometres.

May 4 – Woerden – We had a day at home today, to let the body recover a bit. We did little more than a bit more of a walk around the town. Today is National Remembrance Day (World War II) and tomorrow is Liberation Day, celebrating the liberation of The Netherlands from German occupation. The latter is a holiday so after the experience in Germany where everything shuts down on Sunday we thought it best to make sure we had two days’ groceries. We did find an Aldi, which proved to be similar to the ones in Australia, complete with central aisle of specials. Later, we sat in the town square and had a beer, enjoying the warm sunshine, a rare treat. Preparations were underway for some form of celebration the next day with the construction of a large stage. Other than that, we rested and revived our tired bodies.

May 5 – Rotterdam –  On our last full day in the Netherlands, we decided to take a train and explore Rotterdam, a 40 minute trip from Woerden. With the promise of temperatures in the high teens and blue skies, I left the big jacket home and wore a light jumper. I should have checked the forecast in more detail because by half way to Rotterdam, the skies had darkened and we emerged from the central station to threatening clouds. Christine had been more insightful and had a rain jacket but neither of us had brought umbrellas.

Our first impression of Rotterdam was that it is very different to the other big cities in Netherlands, appearing to be very modern and blessed with broad avenues and open spaces. Imaginative modern architecture was very much in evidence and the major arterial routes of the city are composed of multiple walkways, dedicated bicycle lanes, roadways and tramways, all managing to live in some form of harmony with a bewildering array of traffic lights. We just made sure we weren’t facing immediate extinction and crossed, hoping for the best. The bicycles are the most dangerous, being silent and reluctant to give way.

Rotterdam was heavily bombed by the Germans in March 1940 to force the Dutch into submission. The destruction was so great that little remained of the old city, hence the difference to other Dutch cities. We walked through the city to Binnenrotte Square, a huge plaza created in 1993 after a railway viaduct was replaced with a tunnel, creating a large space above. On one side is one of the few remnants of pre-war Rotterdam, St Lawrence Church, originally built in 1552 and reconstructed after the bombing.  Inside, the towering vaulted ceiling seemed impossibly high and the structure was very grand, even though it lacked the opulence of the Catholic Cathedrals.

From there we took one of our guided walks, soon coming across a huge curved aircraft hangar type building made of glass panels. Called the Markthal, it houses apartments, restaurants and an amazing array of street food stalls on the main floor. The huge arching roof is adorned with hundreds of digital images, creating a festive atmosphere. There is every type of stall you can imagine present, all vying for custom.  The aromas are enough, with visual feasts of cheese displays the skills of the Greek pastry cooks providing a lot of entertainment. We bought a taster plate of Krokets, breadcrumbed fried rolls that were stuffed with ground meat, cheese, mushrooms or vegetables, along with lots spices and herbs. Both the taste and the texture was amazing.

The wonderful Markthal

We emerged from the Markthal to find the rain had started. We debated whether to continue the walk trail, but pushed on, trying to hug the buildings that had some kind of shelter. We passed underneath a crazy piece of architecture called the Kubuswoningen (Cube Houses). These apartments are tilted at 45 degrees to optimise the space. Built in the 1970s, each apartment is three storeys, with many using the top floor as a rooftop garden.

Eventually, the rain eased enough to make walking comfortable and we followed the path around to the old port area, now resembling more of a big canal. The banks were lined with all manner of old craft, many now converted into accommodation or restaurants. We passed the White House, Europe’s first and highest skyscraper when it was built in 1898. It had an amazing 10 storeys. Eventually, we made our way along the port to the Maritime Museum, where we stopped for a coffee and hot chocolate, the rain having returned to a point where walking was uncomfortable. We considered taking a tram straight back to the station but decided instead to brave the rain and walk through the main central shopping areas, a walk of around 1.5 km. Everywhere, people hugged the buildings, most having been caught short of an umbrella like us.

By the time we reached the central station, we were damp but not soaked through and we caught a train back to Woerden, once again tired but satisfied with a terrific day’s outing. Rotterdam is a spectacular city, especially after so many days of tiny medieval alleyways and narrow canals.

After dinner, the sounds of music wafted through from the town square so we wandered down to enjoy a vibrant pop band perform the last song for the evening, part of the Liberation day festivities. We sat with the crowd and enjoyed an Australian red wine before wandering back home. Sunset is after 9pm here so evening is a popular time to be out and about.

Tomorrow we move on into Belgium, for the last stay on the continent before heading to the UK.

 

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