Category: Europe (Page 2 of 5)

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.

 

Cologne & Lustheide, April 2023

May 2, 2023 /

27 April – Frankfurt to Cologne – It’s relocation day, off to Cologne. To be accurate, our destination is Lustheide, an outer suburb of Cologne. The host of our AirBnB seems very communicative and sent what appeared to be very clear instructions. We took the train into Frankfurt Central, spent some time having a coffee and bun before going to the bus station to await our Flixbus. Flixbus is our favourite in Europe, their bright green buses being comfortable and generally on-time, barring road events beyond their control. Since we were here last, the number of routes and cities serviced has increased greatly. The best part, is that a luxury seat with toilet access, charging and wifi is often only a third of the cost of a second class rail ticket. We considered a proper lunch but neither of us was too hungry (rare for us) and we took advantage of the fact that the busport was spanking new, and therefore clean, something most busports are not.

The Flixbus arrived dead on time and we found our pre-booked seats. We had booked the very front seats on the top deck, giving a wonderful panoramic view. You get to see a lot more from the bus than the train, the rail lines often being through industrial areas or the view obscured by thickets of scrub. The trip was set for a little over 2 hours to Cologne Airport and things were going really well until we caught up with the long line of almost stationary traffic following a major truck smash on the autobahn. It took more than an hour to clear the snarl and so by the time we had negotiated a train from the airport to Cologne Messe Deutz station to change to an underground, it was peak hour, and the U Bahn was packed. It is always fun with luggage squeezing onto a packed train.

We alighted at Lustheide and thought we had followed the instructions to walk the 450m walk to our lodgings, but after 600m or so, a helpful local confirmed that we were walking in the wrong direction altogether. We retraced our steps, disobeyed the first instruction we had and set off on the right track. Our apartment is the attic floor on the third level of a lovely house, set in a pretty street. Our host greeted us and showed us the ropes. He told us that he had once worked for TNT in Australia, which explained his excellent English. The apartment is quite charming, especially after the basic austerity of the one in Offenbach. The hosts have gone out of their way to provide comforts, a couple of cold local beers in the fridge, two types of coffee machines with plenty of coffee, a full range of bath products and lots of tourist information. This is the BnB part that so many AirBnB hosts ignore. Fortunately, there is a Lidl supermarket just across the road so we didn’t have to go far to pick up some supplies for dinner. We spent the evening watching the World Snooker Semi Final which was being live broadcast from somewhere local. It was quite fascinating and the only show we could find where the German didn’t matter.

View from our attic

28 April – Lustheide – The day started dark, wet and gloomy, with a forecast max of around 14º. It did not look like improving until the late afternoon and the forecast proved accurate. We chose to spend the day in, relaxing, reading and researching future travel options. Around 3 o’clock, the weather had improved so we did spend an hour or so walking around the neighbourhood, admiring the houses and gardens before the horizon turned black once more and we headed for home. We will have to become less precious about going out in the rain if we are going to travel for months in northern Europe but for now we are happy to hide inside in the dry warmth.

29 April – Cologne – The day opened to more rain but it was forecast as short lived and we got organized to head off to Cologne. We were temporarily stumped by the lack of ticket machines at the station but a local told us we could buy them on the train. The light rail train (which is more like a tram) took us to Cologne Mess Deutz, which is on the eastern bank of the Rhine and we walked a kilometre or so to cross the Rhine River via the Hohenzollernbruecke Bridge, a 409m long rail bridge built in the early 1900s. Despite daily bombing raids during the war that damaged 75% of the city, the bridge remained largely intact, until the retreating Germans blew it up in March 1945. By May, the Americans had it operational again.

 

The Hohenzollernbruecke Bridge

After the war

Behind the bridge, the towering spires of the Cologne Cathedral formed a wonderful backdrop as we crossed the river. This was our first encounter with the Rhine River. The width and powerful flow needs to be seen to be appreciated. I can appreciate the skills of the pre-motorized boatsmen who were somehow able to navigate such waters against a very powerful current. The passing parade of river boats and barges either painstakingly pushed their way upstream or raced their way downstream. We saw some kayakers making hard work of paddling upstream, even though they were using the backwaters and eddies along the bank. The guard rails of the bridge were covered in “lover’s padlocks”, many inscribed with the names of the couple. The concentration of them was heaviest in the middle sections but they were thick everywhere, probably more so than on the famed bridge over the Seine in Paris where authorities eventually removed them all due to concerns about the added weight. Here the number was estimated to be more than 500,000 back in 2015 but the estimated weight of more than 12 tonne was not seen to be an issue.

Love Locks, only some of the 1/2 million

Exploring the alleyways of the old town

Once over the bridge, we located the departure point for our booked 1 hour cruise on the river and spent another hour exploring the beautiful narrow winding alleyways of the old town. The majority of the medieval building seem to be pubs and restaurants, a thing that was greatly appreciated by the large numbers of people sporting team colours in preparation for the Football match between FC Cologne and Freilburg, later in the day. There was a lot of “pre-soaking” occurring among the throngs and some cheerful banter between the groups.

We boarded the boat, a multi decked river boat and took an outside table on the top near the bow. I was a bit surprised at just how bearable it was given that it was still only 10º. Most people seemed to arm themselves with a beer, despite the cold, so we thought it was only polite to follow local custom. Locals are very protective of the Cologne beer (Kölch) and it is said that trying to order any other form of beer will get you thrown out of some pubs. It is only served in tall narrow glasses. The important thing is, it tastes good, even in icy cold weather.

A great place to live

The scenery was excellent and the commentary informative. The boat struggled upstream for a half hour or so then turned to sail downstream. Unfortunately, this was also into the wind and the added wind chill factor sent us packing inside and down a deck before bits started to freeze and fall off. We thoroughly enjoyed the cruise and it was a terrific way of seeing a lot of the city.

Once off the boat, we headed for one of the many harbourside restaurants and opted for some lunch. Despite the weather, we sat outside, although we cheated by sitting underneath a heater and placing one of the provided blankets across our laps. We both settled on a burger because they sounded good and we hadn’t had one for ages. They came out looking like the promotional pictures of a Hungry Jack’s Whopper, but never really resemble in reality. These were delicious, with an excellent real beef burger. The side of sweet potato chips and truffle mayonnaise went down well too. I knew there was a reason we were doing so much walking.

After lunch, we set out again to follow the crowds up towards the cathedral. The crowds had now swollen enormously, not just soccer fans, but large groups of locals who seem to come to the city on a Saturday and walk or buy lunch. Near the Central Station and cathedral, the crowd became almost difficult to move through. There were hens party groups in tutus, bucks party groups downing copious beers, tour groups from the many river cruise ships and family groups out and about, all heavily rugged up of course.

Words fail me trying to describe the Cologne Cathedral. We have seen many wonderful such buildings, the Duomo in Milan, Notre Dame in Paris and Duomo di Firenze in Florence amongst them but this one takes the cake. The towering turrets once formed the World’s tallest man-made structure and the intricacy of the stonework is staggering. The building dominates the skyline across most of Cologne. Fortunately, the wartime damage was minimalized because of a deliberate policy by the US forces to avoid bombing it. Photographs dotted around the building show the damage done and some of the early restoration efforts.

 

Cologne Cathedral on a better day than we experienced

We followed the crowds through town to the Neumarkt area before catching a tram back to our lodgings, tired but well content with our day exploring this beautiful city. Cologne is a must-visit city.

30 April – Cologne – The day began with clear skies, almost a first for the trip. The forecast promised a very respectable 19º so we decided to get some washing out of the way in the morning and then head back into Cologne for the afternoon. There is a cable car running from the zoo across the Rhine to a park and thermal spa on the eastern bank so we figured that would be a great way to get some different views of the city.

Many other people also thought it was a lovely day to be out and about and the trams and walk ways were crowded. So too was the queue to get onto the cable car, but we persisted and took a wonderful ride across the river. The argument crops up regularly about a cable car connecting Perth with Kings Park and having ridden a few, I can’t have anything but positive thoughts on the subject. It would be a hit with tourists and locals alike if they managed to keep the cost down. This one was $8, which seems very reasonable.

Once on the other side, we ambled slowly through a large and pretty parkland, filled with family groups picnicking or just walking. We stopped at a beer garden that was filled with people and waited an age for a beer each, mostly because the couple running the bar were horribly inefficient and seemed to think that only one of them needed to work at a time.

We continued the walk to Cologne Deutz Mess Station and caught the tram home, well content with a lovely day in the sunshine. With an early start planned for the next day’s move to the Netherlands, we started the process of packing. Cologne has been well worth the visit.

Frankfurt, Offenbach & Wiesbaden, Germany April 2023

April 27, 2023 /

20 April – Well, we have arrived, at long last, after a four year hiatus from overseas travel. As I write, we are settled in to a small but comfortable apartment in Offenbach, an outlying suburb of Frankfurt, Germany. As we grapple with the aftermath of an 18 hour flight from Perth and the attendant jet lag/disassociation that trips like that carry, we pinch ourselves that we are here again, starting out on what is to be a three month sojourn across seven countries.

The flight was bearable, which is pretty complimentary for a Perth to somewhere in Europe flight. We chose to fly Singapore Airlines, Economy Class to Singapore and Premium Economy Singapore to Frankfurt. The Economy class only served to prime us up to totally fall in love with Premium Economy. The cramped seats and 3-3-3 seat layout gave way to 2 secluded seats with loads of leg room, wide seats and enough lay-back and leg raise to allow an actual real sleep experience. I would still far rather teleport direct, but the Premium Economy is a worthwhile investment without breaking the bank.

Our last entry into Europe via Frankfurt was back in 2017 and went smoothly. This time, it was not so smooth. It was fine until getting through immigration and customs. It was trying to negotiate the train into the city that was an issue. Our preplanning suggested we needed to catch an S-Bahn to Ledermuseum (Leather Museum) , travelling through the Central Frankfurt station on the S9. OK, we found the S9 after a couple of aborted attempts. The ticket machine made no sense at all so we tried a friendly man at the ticket office. He looked at our written requirements, nodded, and sold us two tickets. We were pleased when the Commonwealth Bank travel card was accepted as payment, found the right platform, boarded the right train and set off. The train travelled through Frankfurt  Central and continued towards Ledermuseum. The digital readout kept putting up a screen saying something in German at regular intervals and I began to fear that it was telling us that there was an issue with the journey forwards. My lack of German proved to be no barrier. I was right. The line was closed and we would not reach out destination. I was on the point of losing it. The same thing happened to us in Melbourne for the Australian Open, which makes two AirBnBs in a row where we have chosen them for the convenient rail links only to find the rail is busted.

On advice from some of the other passengers, we disembarked at the next stop and returned on another train to Frankfurt Central. Here we sought the assistance of two assistants sitting at a DB Help desk. “Can you help us in English?” They nodded an affirmative, the man grinning as he handed us over to the girl next to him, I suspect because he knew she would be out of her depth. She fluffed around with an app on her phone and pretty much failed before he came to the rescue and sorted us out. We were off again to find Platform 4 and a RE (Regional Express) to Offenbach and a 650m walk to our apartment. Platform 4 had an ICE (Intercity Express) train waiting, which threw us, but a young lady who was waiting said it would probably (hopefully, maybe?) be replaced by an RE train and to follow her lead, as she was wanting the same train as us. The ICE did indeed depart and the RE slide in. We found a seat. When it got to around ten minutes past the departure time, a lot of people got up and left, leading us to have doubts that things were going well. Asking around, it seems that there were issues with the automatic doors failing to operate and the train would be delayed for an indeterminate amount of time. Some had elected to leave and seek another train. We stuck it out, mainly because we didn’t know how to seek another train. Suddenly, the doors closed, remained closed, and we were off to Offenbach.

Offenbach station looked like something out of “A Clockwork Orange”, graffiti layering over more graffiti and corridors occupied with homeless. We had managed to get our travel SIMs working at long last in our phones so Google Maps directed us on the easy walk through the graffiti lined streets to our apartment. After mis-interpreting the entry directions three or four times, we hauled our bags up the one flight of steel stairs to a snug, quirky but reasonably comfortable apartment that would be home for the next week. The central heating worked (essential given that the max for most days was around 12 degrees) and there were enough comforts to keep us going.  After dumping our gear, we set out to find a super market. We headed down a street with the amusing name of “Frankfurter Street” and asked a pair of young women if they spoke English and for directions to a supermarket, as luck for have it, one was an English teacher. They gave us the location of the local “Penny Mart”, which stocked a wide range of goods at surprisingly low prices. A basic shop of supplies for breakfast, lunch and dinner and a couple of wines set us back €30 ($A50), a great start to the tight budget. The centre of Offenbach looked exciting to explore, with numerous cafes, restaurants and interesting shops, many set in a walking precinct. Well content, we had a quick bite to eat and crashed to try to reset the biological clocks.

Our apartment is one level up on the left.

Offenbach – 21 April – We spent our first full day doing very little, needing to fully recover from the long flight. We both woke very early, around 5am, with dawn coming at just after 6. With breakfast down, we went out for a stroll around the Offenbach CBD. There are a number of walking only streets and promises of Friday market stalls. These didn’t really materialize, other than a few fruit and veg stalls along with some flower sellers. The fact that it was 5 degrees may have had something to do with it, with very few people out and about early. Otherwise, the range of shops is interesting, with lots of small variety stores side by side with some very upmarket fashion boutiques and swank jewelers. After a long walk around we dropped into the Penny Mart and grabbed a few more supplies. It is a challenge to find goods in small packages, because we have limited room to lug groceries between cities. Sometimes, we just have to accept that we will keep half a packet of something and leave the rest for the next guests in our apartment.

After lunch and watching a dismal performance by the Dockers against the Bulldogs (we have Kayo), we headed off for another walk the opposite way down Frankfurter Strasse to check out the tram terminus. A tram line that services Frankfurt Central terminates about a kilometre down the road and represents a much nicer and cheaper way to get around than the RE train. The walk took us through what was obviously once the elite part of Offenbach. Beautiful old houses set in spacious gardens adorned both sides of the road. Most were now apartments, some were professional suites and the odd one looked as though it was still a house of some grandeur. Opposite the tram stop was a park, Spielplatz Parkstraße, which was full of magnificent trees, now sporting the emerging spring leave coverage. We correctly identified a couple of English Oaks and a Holly bush before being stumped by some towering fir like trees. Christine has an app on the phone that identifies plants and we were surprised to find they were Giant Sequoias, or Californian Redwoods. It was a peaceful and lovely walk and we managed to soak up the charm of a beautiful part of this German City.

Frankfurter Strasse in Offenbach

Palmengarten – 22 April – It was an early rise (5:30) to watch the Eagles get beaten soundly by Port Adelaide. I have no idea why we thought this was a good idea but there it was. Later in the morning, we set off to the tram terminal to catch the No16 tram into Frankfurt, a trip of around 25 minutes. The tram ride was beautiful, winding its way through some truly lovely streets. When in Frankfurt before, we had stayed in the central part of the city where very few old buildings had survived the bombings of WWII. The only old buildings were reconstructions of gothic structures. On the south side of the river between Offenbach and Frankfurt, many of the streets were lined with stately 18th and 19th Century buildings, now turned into apartments. Green parks dotted the area, many still sporting flowering fruit trees and tulip and daffodil gardens were common.  It being a Saturday, the sidewalk cafes were busy, made more so because it was the first day over 15 degrees for some time, the maximum predicted to reach 21 later in the day.

It was noticeable on the tram, and elsewhere, just how reserved and polite the people are. People stand back and let others alight before boarding, pass greetings and apologies if they get in someone’s way. We were surprised by the sight of several people boarding the tram with dogs on leads. A noticeable feature is how multicultural the population is, Germany having absorbed large numbers of migrants and refugees over the last two decades. In fact, more than half the population of Frankfurt has a migrant background and nearly a quarter are foreign nationals. Frankfurt is one of the World’s wealthiest cities and has the sixth highest number of ultra-wealthy individuals.

Frankfurt has an excellent tram system

We got off the tram at Frankfurt Central Station, Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof, thinking we would have to find another tram or underground to our destination, Palmengarten (Palm Garden Botanical Gardens). I looked at the maps and found that the No16 tram kept going right past Palmengarten. Before getting back on, we walked around and checked on the location of the Flixbus Terminal in preparation for our move to Cologne and the location of The Alder Hotel, where we would stay for one night in July before flying home. As is often the case, the area immediately surrounding central railway stations is a magnet to the homeless and some of the sidewalks were somewhat on the nose. The homeless are very much in evidence, mostly North African or Middle Eastern and one can only feel a sense of sadness that our World has enough resources to help everyone if only we can even up the distribution somehow. To its credit, Germany has done quite a lot to help, but the sight of so many people in difficulty is a tough one when we live in comparative luxury.

The Palmengarten proved to be a wonderful experience. The grounds are full of exotic trees and plants, although many are still to regain their foliage after winter and the rose garden had been pruned back completely. What carried the experience was the numerous enclosed climate controlled enclosures that featured palm collections, an amazing cactus garden, tropical rainforest plants from around the World and a fascinating butterfly enclosure, with a wonderful collection of free flying brightly coloured butterflies feeding on a variety of flowering plants in a moist tropical environment. The grounds are large enough that by the time we emerged from the butterfly enclosure, we decided the legs had done their work for the day and we made our way back to the tram, to ride all the way back to Offenbach, leaving further exploration for another day.

The Palmengarten

By the time we got back near the apartment, it was around 2pm so we decided to splash out on lunch at a seafood restaurant around the corner from our lodgings. It rates highly on Trip Advisor, and rightly so, because the food was sensational. It is a bit sad that here in an inland city far from the ocean one can get a better and cheaper feed of top quality fish, prawns and calamari than back home. The fish was Sea Bass fillets, perfectly grilled. The prawns and pieces of squid were also grilled, with a side of chilli sambal. It was fresh, crisp and really tasty. The meal was served with an excellent salad and a modest serving of small potato rounds fried. It was a far cry from the battered deep-fry-up that is the norm back home. All up, the meal, with two beers, was €34 ($A50).

Then it was home to crash out, perhaps too much so, as our sleeping clocks are still not synched yet.

Old Frankfurt – 23 April – We took the tram into Frankfurt again today to walk around the old city area and Romer. It being a Sunday, there were a lot of people out and about in the tourist plaza of the Romer and the nearby old streets of the reconstructed gothic city area. We have spent quite a bit of time in the area on a previous visit but this time the artificial appearance seemed accentuated and overly touristy. It makes for good photography but not much more. The area is filled with churches and they all seemed to peal their bells at once. It was quite jarring and discordant, with a lack of a good musical director. We stopped at a bakery and brought a couple of pretzels, which also proved to be a bit underwhelming. Abandoning the tourist area, we strolled down the roads to find a shopping precinct to look for some warm loungewear only to discover that most businesses close on Sunday, including the large shopping centres. This practice is at odds with some of our politicians back home who insist that the rest of the world is open 24/7 and Western Australia needs to catch up. Later, we found the “Closed on Sundays” rule extends to many restaurants and take-aways. The supermarkets in Offenbach, the Lidl and Penny, were both closed as well, leaving us with few food options later in the evening. Overall, it was a lack-lustre day but still far better than not being here at all.

Old Frankfurt

Offenbach – 24 April – We had a lazy day in. The manager of the apartment block came around to unblock the shower drain, otherwise, not a lot happened. We did go out a couple of times to walk the area and discover more shops and sights but it was a quiet day, and the body appreciated it. The temperature has dropped too, and the magic weekend weather has given way to a 14 degree max with grey skies and light rain. Tomorrow looks worse.

Offenbach – 25 April – We rugged up and headed out to the Oppenbach Markt, a local produce market operating on Tuesday, Friday and Saturday. It was interesting to see the variety of different fruit and vegetables. Most were labelled with the country of origin. There were some very strange turban shaped cabbage things from Portugal. White asparagus is very common and cheaper than the green variety. The fish and meat vans had pork, lamb and beef, although the beef is extremely expensive. All meat is pricey, with chicken being at least affordable and turkey even cheaper. Fish is more expensive than it is at home and there is far less choice. The flower stalls were outstanding, with beautiful arrangements available for around $A15. There were huge bunches of tulips and amazing bunches of bud roses.

The Offenbach Markt

We were excited to see a wurst stall, selling a variety of sausages with bread and a sauce. These are common further south, in Bavaria and especially in Austria but we had not seen many in the Rhineland. We chose a Bratwurst with a curry sauce and bread roll. It was delicious. We chose to share one serve and we both hoped the other would instantly take ill so we could eat it all.

What has surprised us is the lack of English amongst the general population. Granted, Offenbach is not a tourist area in any sense but Frankfurt is one of Europe’s biggest transport hubs and economic centres. Our feeling is that there is less English in this part of Germany than in Croatia or Italy. This extends to signage and menus, most of which are German only. Google Translate gets a good work out.

Wiesbaden – 26 April – We awoke to a temperature of -1ºC so before we headed out, we rugged up with the full thermals and jackets. We took a train to the nearby city of Wiesbaden, a journey of around 50km. We opted to buy an all day ticket, which proved useful because it is a slight saving on the return trip and it also gave us access to the bus system in Wiesbaden, the whole region falling under the RNV transport system. The trip took us through Mainz, another city on the junction of the Main and Rhine rivers. Although smaller than Frankfurt, Wiesbaden is the capital of Hesse, and Mainz is the capital of Rhineland-Palatinate. Wiesbaden has 15 thermal springs dotted around the city so it has been important since Roman times as a spa city. It enjoyed an almost cult status amongst the wealthy during the 19th Century and many fine houses can be seen throughout the city. Even today, the city has one of Europe’s highest number of ultra-wealthy people and very high overall average wealth.

As soon as we emerged from the central train station, the beauty of the city was obvious. Wide tree-lined streets lead away to the old town square, with numerous pretty parks, fountains and gardens, sporting a glorious array of tulips and the cherry trees in full bloom. Many of the stately homes are now either apartments or professional offices but the grandeur of life near the late 19th century was easy to picture. The city sustained very little damage during WWII and so there are fewer of the austere 1950s plain blocks of offices and apartments that characterise many other German cities. The town square was dominated by a majestic town hall and the towering triple spires of the Markikirche, an enormous protestant cathedral built entirely of brick. A fresh food market was in full swing, along with a wonderful array of food trucks, so we helped out the local economy by indulging in yet another “Curry Wurst und Brot”. It must be the cold weather because these things are getting addictive.

Around Wiesbaden

After getting some advice at the Tourist Centre, we caught the No1 bus out of town to the Nerobergbahn, a quirky little funicular railway that climbs 83m along a 400m track to the top of a hill overlooking the city. Built in 1888, this railway is famous because it uses an amazing system of water ballast. Two cars operate, one going up and the other down. When at the top, one car is filled with 7,000L of water, making it around 7 tonne heavier than the one at the bottom. As it descends, it hauls the other one up to the top. Once at the bottom, the railcar dumps all its water, which is pumped to the top of the hill again to fill the other car. The views from the top are sweeping, allowing us to take in the whole city. The hill is also home to a Russian Orthodox Church and a war memorial to the fallen in the Great War, which, seen the day after Anzac day, was a reminder that the tragedy of WW1 was not a one sided affair.

The Neobergbahn

Back down the hill, we caught the bus back into the city, alighting to inspect one of the thermal springs, a 66ºC fountain with multicoloured deposits creating a low dome in a small plaza.

A thermal spring

From there, we made our way back through picturesque streets to the town square, stopping along the way to have a lunch of salad rolls and coffee in a bakery. The Germans certainly do bakeries well, with an amazing variety of delicious goods at affordable prices.

We had considered stopped off in Mainz on the way home but we had already walked around 7km so decided enough was enough. Wiesbaden had delivered the goods. A beautiful city well worth the visit.

Tomorrow, we leave Offenbach to journey north to Cologne (Köln) via Flixbus. We are very happy with our choice of staying out of Frankfurt in Offenbach because it has given us the chance to really appreciate this interesting and comfortable city. It is not on the tourist lists, but we can recommend it.

 

 

 

 

Tuscany 2019

September 30, 2019 /

We had to disembark our charter yacht in Trogir by 9am and had time to kill, with a flight out of Croatia to Rome leaving at 3:50pm. Toni at the charter office allowed us to store our luggage so at least we were free to wander around Trogir, find a coffee, eat more snacks than we should have and generally sit to watch the world pass by. Helen still has a bit of trouble with too much walking so we left Helen and Mario to get some steps in to burn a few of the many calories our bodies had in reserve. The day past quickly enough and by 12:30 we hunted down a maxi taxi to take the four of us and our luggage to the airport (called Split Airport but in reality it is far closer to Trogir). Then there was the long wait to get on the Vueling flight. The flight across the Adriatic is ridiculously short and we didn’t make the mistake of ordering a drink. It is a case of fasten seat belts, go up, then go down. The poor attendants are on the run the entire time.

The luggage took an age to come and we eyed the clock nervously, knowing that every minute meant more night time driving on the 317km trip north to Poppiano in Chianti. The Avis car rental people were efficient enough and finally we were off, with Mario driving and me on the GPS to negotiate our way onto the Autostrada and join all the other cars doing speeds well in excess of 130km/hr. Mario handled things extremely well and managed to avoid driving on the wrong side of the road (except once when I gave him bad instructions) and the long drive was accomplished surprisingly quickly. Even after the Autostrada was behind us and we began the twisting and winding drive through the hills of Chianti Mario was up to the job and we arrived safely at our Air BnB by 9:15pm. Our host, Suzanne, arrived shortly afterward and we explored the enchanting apartment, one of three in an old stone building complete with the genuine hand milled cypress beams and terracotta floor tiles. We were in Tuscan heaven.

Our Apartment is Top Right

For our first day in Tuscany, the forecast rain arrived, just a little bit early on and light enough to suggest that a driving experience was called for. We picked out a couple of spots on the map and decided to let the GPS do its thing and simply explore. The countryside was even better than the countless published pictures suggest, with gorgeous rolling hills, pockets of verdant forest and cute olive groves. Having experienced the far less populated hills of Piedmont before, I was surprised at how heavily populated the region is for a rural area. Clusters of buildings are dotted everywhere and hilltop castles abound and appear somewhat newer than those in Piedmont. We passed through village after village, almost without sighting any other people, apart from those practising their racing car skills on the narrow winding roads. Our local castle was all quiet, the next couple we tried to visit had no public access and any attempt to find a wine tasting or cute little cafe seemed fruitless. Sunday is rest day (as is Monday it seems).

Castle Poppiano – a little way down the road from our apartment.

The forecast of heavy rain with damaging winds and large hail proved to be over the top but the rain did come and driving and navigating through the hilly Chianti district soon became very difficult. Mario was up to the task but it wasn’t much fun. We found a couple of towns but they weren’t all that exciting, probably because the rain made stopping and exploring too hard. We stopped in one place at one of the few bar/cafes we saw open and were served a local red wine. However, it was poured from an already open bottle and was more on the vinegar side than fine wine and none of us could actually drink it. The owner was embarrassed and refused payment.

Our second day was partly a repeat of the first, with very heavy rain making travel impossible. We did manage to get in a good session at San Gimignano with only light rain falling, before the heavens opened in earnest. With navigated our way to Volterra but couldn’t even get out of the car. Most roads had rivers running down the sides. Thankfully, the temperature is perfect, in the low 20s each day and the cloud at least protects us from the sting of the sun.

Key Places We Visited:

San Gimignano – this spectacular 13th Century walled town once boasted 72 stone towers although today only 14 still remain. They created a wonderful skyline as we approached. The towers were largely a status symbol among the patrician families, the higher the tower the higher the status. The town is full of produce shops, displaying the wares of the district, wines, cheeses, sauces etc along with some beautiful arts and crafts. Wandering the cobbled streets and window shopping, or stopping for a snack is an excellent way to spend some time, even in the rain. The crowds would not want to be any greater with the streets and piazzas busy but not impossible to move through. We lunched on panini in a bakery that had the most amazing array of sweets and chocolates.

San Gimignano
San Gimignano

Florence (Firenze) – We have been told by others that Florence is THE place to visit in Italy so we had very high expectations. We were actually disappointed, not with the grandeur of the D’Uomo or the Church of San Maria Novella, but rather with the general town itself. The buildings seem to be quite a jumbled mix of old and ugly 20th Century, with a crazy road and pedestrian system adding to the chaos and confusion. The streets were crowded and seeking the safety of a piazza seemed to be the thing to do but even there we were not safe from cars, trucks and motorbikes that came across any paved area at high speed. To save ourselves problems with parking, we drove to Villa Constanza in Sandicci outside of the city and caught the relatively new tram into the city centre. After a few fights with parking tickets and the tram ticket machine we made our way in, crossing the Arno River and alighting at the central rail station. From there it was a short walk to the Church of San Maria Novella, a huge 13th Century church situated in a large piazza. The facade was unlike any church I have seen before and is distinctly Tuscan in design.

Church of San Maria Novella

From there, we made our way to the amazing D’Uomo, with its huge dome that dominates the skyline of Florence. The main facade is absolutely beyond description. The whole building is clad with white, black, green and rose coloured marble and the carvings and statues are so numerous and intricate that we spent a long time simply standing in the one spot and finding new wonders to admire. We gave no thought to going inside because the lines extended several hundred metres and did not really seem to be moving. The nearby Baptistery dates from the 5th Century and is said to be the beginning of the distinctive Florentine architectural style. Strangely, the style did not spread to other parts of Italy and so remains a symbol of Florence.

The D’Oumo and Baptistery in Florence

After a wonderful lunch of wood fired pizza, we made our way on to the Palazzo Vecchio (now a museum) and the Piazza della Signoria, which is a huge open air art gallery of renaissance statues. Marble naked bodies, cherubs and Roman soldiers were in abundance.

Piazza della Signoria

Further on, we found the river and crossed the famous Ponte Vecchio, a shop covered bridge almost completely filled with jewellery shops. Each shop had huge heavy wooden shutters to close up with, reflecting the value of what lay within.

Ponte Vecchio

All the walking had taken its toll and we were unanimous in our decision to make our way back to the tram, Florence by no means beaten but we had done enough. We did not get to see the Michelangelo’s Statue of David but the thought of paying $A33 to see the real thing held little appeal anyway. Mario was very tempted by some soccer shorts decorated with the lower part of David’s anatomy. I’m not sure where one could wear them.

Fattoria Corzano e Paterno – We followed up on our host’s recommendation and visited this wonderful family owned winery for a tasting session. It was beautifully situated down the end of a long unsealed track and had breath taking views of the vine clad slopes. A charming young girl led us through each of four wines, three reds and one white, plus four of their own cheeses, each made from sheep’s cheese. The cheeses were matched with the wines perfectly, becoming stronger with each wine and each one delicious, except for the gorgonzola, which only Mario managed to appreciate. We learnt about the Chianti controlled wine production, with a wine designated as Chianti requiring not only location but at least 80% Sangiovese grapes with the rest being made up with Cabernet Sauvignon and/or Merlot. We had noticed that the vines throughout the region only had a few bunches of fruit hanging from the bottom of the vines. This is deliberate through pruning to keep the fruiting small and therefore of high quality and to keep too much sun off the grapes as they ripened. The Sangiovese grapes are among the finest grapes we have ever tasted but their small size and large seeds makes them unsuitable for the table. We left the winery, contented and far more knowledgeable. A wonderful experience.

Wine Tasting at Fattoria Corzano e Patern

Volterra – We had two attempts to visit Volterra. The first time, was after our trip to San Gimignano and by the time we arrived, the rain was torrential. Huge rivers ran down the sides of the steep climb up to the walled city and we decided to give it up and return another day. We were so glad we did return because the town is absolutely beautiful, certainly the equal if not better than San Gimignano. As with most of the walled cities, it dates from the 13th and 14th Centuries but underneath all the medieval stonework lies not only a 3rd Century BC Roman city but also an earlier Etruscan city. It seemed a little less tourist dominated than San Gimignano and many local people still live and work within the walls. We wandered and stuck our heads down cute little alleyways, photographed vistas over the farmlands spread below and tried to imagine what life was like here 600 years ago. The remains of a Roman Theatre and Baths are laid out below the walls of the city and present a spectacular sight.

Volterra

Roman Baths and Amphitheatre

The Etruscan ruins are less obvious, set in a large parkland but being more represented by a series of foundations rather than actual buildings. The excavations recouped a big treasure of Etruscan artifacts and the culture seems to have influenced the design of much of the local jewellery on offer for sale. After an hour of wandering, we settled in to a beautiful restaurant where Christine and I had a beer and Mario and Helen had a local pasta with amazing fresh mushrooms freshly plucked from the fields. We started out not feeling hungry but their food certainly looked good.

Volterra is a must visit place.

Pisa – What trip to Italy could be complete without visiting the famous Leaning Tower yet, amazingly, we had missed it on two previous visits. Helen and Mario had seen the tower on a quick tour from a cruise ship but had not really toured Pisa before. As with Florence,we elected to avoid parking issues and caught a regional train from Cascina, about 5kms out. Once in Pisa, we located the offices of “Smile and Ride”, a bike hire company to pick up bikes for the day. Pisa is very flat (rare in Tuscany) and the streets are wider than many places, making riding comfortable. Our bikes came with a self guiding tour app for the smart phones so navigating around was also quite easy. The good thing about self guided tours is we could ignore some of the detail about artists and architects and also wander off the marked path when the whim took us.

Pisa is a pretty place, with pleasant vistas and interesting streetscapes, especially along the river banks. We came across a few lovely parks, rode alongside the ancient city walls, gazed upon the usual array of medieval church fronts (it’s amazing how quickly one becomes blasé about inspirational architecture) and bought a few bits and pieces from tourist stalls.

We parked up and securely locked the bikes (this is Italy) and walked the short distance to the “Square of Miracles”, which houses the famous Leaning Tower, the massive D’Oumo and the Baptistery. The cathedral would command respect in its own right but the nearby tower gets all the attention. It looks for all the world as if collapse is only a day away. The building itself is magnificent, even if it was upright, and the quality of the marble cladding all the structures in the square is outstanding. Most of the crowds was just standing or sitting in the one place, staring at the sight and taking it all in. Sometimes, one of the “bucket list” items proves to be a disappointment but this one fulfills expectations.

Siena – Siena is the most southerly of the major Tusan attractions and the change in both countryside and architecture showed. The hills around were generally less populated than further north. The town looked quite different to San Gimignano or Volterra in that brick seemed to predominate over the stone. The builders showed incredible skill in extracting almost as much flair as they do with stone.

The biggest attraction in Siena is probably the Piazza del Campo, or Horse Plaza, an enormous brick clad piazza that is really unusual in that the central part is gradually recessed to form a kind of inverted amphitheatre. Twice a year, in July and August, a horse race called the Palio is run around the perimeter of the square. Each horse represents one of the provinces of Siena. It is a mad scramble and accidents are common. The square is jam-packed with spectators on these occasions. We sat and had a beer on the edge of the square and looked at pictures of the event on our phones to try and draw up the experience. Siena is a beautiful place to wander around in, especially if one is after higher class shops. Fashion, jewellery and leather shops were common and business looked brisk.

Ristorante da Buzzanca – We discovered an absolute gem of a restaurant on 2kms away from our accommodation in nearby San Quirico. The restaurant is in a large farm complex that dates back over a thousand years. The family bought it 40 years ago and run a wonderful establishment. The building is full of ambience and the menu is amazing. They have an incredible ravioli with pistachio pesto that is the best ravioli I have tasted. Helen and Mario each had osso bucco that was melt in the mouth while Christine had a duck linguine. On the way out, the waiter (part of the family) took us down into the ancient cellar, where dust encrusted wine bottles were stored and water poured down through a rocky culvert. It was a view into times long past. We went back for a final Sunday lunch and discovered the joy of baked cod with an amazing tomato sauce. Mario and Helen tried a mixed grill and were presented with two big platters of grilled meat from every animal that graces a farmyard. They worked for over an hour to demolish the lot and showed no signs of joining the popular vegan movement.

A week and a bit in Tuscany is highly recommended. Vistas of rolling hills, scattered castles, vine and olive covered slopes and the always present cypress trees are everywhere one looks and all is surprisingly green at the end of a summer. The grapes ready for harvest add to the attraction. The narrow winding roads and crazy-mad drivers are not so wonderful and the habit of closing up and staying closed can get trying at times. Most restaurants around us did not open Monday to Wednesday and often not until 7:30 or 8pm. Oh well, when in Rome….

Mario handled the arduous job of driving very well, rapidly adapting to the conditions. Navigation was not so smooth at times, with the GPS letting us down on more than one occasion but mostly, we managed. For us, it marks “Italy complete” and although one could never truly say that, we have now done enough to move on to fresh fields.

The drive back to Rome was completed with now issues, except for one slight hiccup at the airport where we had to complete a bog lap of “Arrivals” to correct a wrong turn. The car was handed back with no dings or scrapes and we settled in to the arduous process of check-in, immigration, security etc.


Sailing Croatia 2019

September 20, 2019 /

The much awaited day of boarding our two week charter yacht arrived. We were not due to board until 4pm so we had plenty of time for last minute supplies and a general relax. Fortunately, our Air BnB hosts in Trogir were happy for us to stay as late as we needed. With all the gear and provisions, we deemed it best to get transport to the marina. While we were in the process of getting an Uber, our host kindly offered a lift in her mother’s car. Christine, Helen and all the luggage were squeezed into the car and Mario and I walked across the island to the ACI Marina.

We entered the charter office in high spirits but the end of a long summer charter season was reflected in the manager’s eyes, along with dollar signs. He skipped through the necessary papers as quickly as possible to get to the money part, where huge piles of cash seemed to mount up in front of him, all of it ours.

We located our boat, aptly named “Aquaholic” and met our skipper, who announced that we were sailing in half an hour. This was news to us because our instructions were that we were to spend the first night in Trogir. In hindsight, this would have been the best thing because it would give a good chance to thoroughly go through all the things about the boat while there was at least a slight chance of having problems rectified. One of the difficulties in chartering at the end of a season is that the little unattended maintenance issues mount up and as the cruise progressed, we were to discover the hatches that leaked, the lights that didn’t work and the plumbing issues that annoyed. As a whole, the boat was very good, with three double cabins and a set of bunks. With Lucy and Alex no longer able to join us, we had the luxury of the bunk room to use as storage and a changing room. The galley was well equipped and the fridge big enough to keep us going without the need to buy ice. Talking to others along the way, the condition of our charter boat was much on a par with others, with everyone having a list of things that need attention.

Aquaholic had been recently fitted with a new main sail and new bimini and dodger so things looked trim. She sailed very well and was extremely comfortable even in quite big seas. Our skipper was always happy to put the sails up and make use of the wind whereas we noted that many boats simply motored a lot. It is always a lot more comfortable with the sails up.

Our skipper, Lordan, was a middle aged Croatian national who spends the season skippering charters with some time away working oil rigs. He had done 14 weeks straight to date. He has a wife and two children so I guess he doesn’t get to see all that much of them. Still, the whole economy seems geared up to work flat out in the summer and back off for the winter.

Our first night was in a small cove near Maslinica on the island of Solta. We motor sailed in light conditions and picked up a buoy near last light. This was to be our introduction to the system of anchorages in Croatia. Basically, there are five choices for spending the night.

  1. Anchor. Our skipper dislikes this option for anything other than a daytime swim because the water is often very deep and the anchor is OK but not brilliant. I concur with his assessment.
  2. Take a buoy. Some buoys are owned by restaurants and they will let you stay for free as long as you go to the restaurant (they tend to be expensive). Other buoys are owned by the local port authority. Buoys can cost anywhere between $45 and $100 a night depending on location. Staying on a buoy means we have to use the dinghy to go ashore.
  3. Back on to the harbour pier. This is convenient but more expensive, costing between $75 and $120. It can also be a noisy night or a fun night, depending on your neighbours.
  4. Go into a marina. This is the most expensive option, with most being over $100 a night.

For our first night, we had little choice, the skipper pre-arranging a buoy owned by a restaurant which proved to have a limited and rather pricey menu. All in all, the crowds and number of boats are so much bigger than we anticipated that in the end one has little choice and you just go with the flow. Backing on to a wharf is probably the preferred option because it gives us complete freedom to explore the towns at will.

Life over the two weeks of sailing was so relaxing and enjoyable far beyond our expectations. Most people charter for one week only but we were so glad that we had organised two weeks because as the first week came to a close we all knew that we would have been upset to get off. After initially fussing a bit over our exact itinerary, we came to realise that everywhere was good and yet everywhere is different. Most towns have an “old town” with medieval origins but each has its own unique character. Each port is also quite unique and although the actual facilities differ, most are adequate for at least an overnight stay.

The actual itinerary was mostly out of our control, with the skipper coming up with a whole raft of reasons why we could not go where we wanted to go and should, in fact, go where he wanted to go. The motivation for these conflicts was hard to fathom. At times I leaned towards the negative viewpoint that he wanted to go where things served him best (he had a friend he wanted to catch up with, his brother was going there, he knew a restaurant owner, etc). Sometimes, the positive view held and we considered that he was just trying to do his best by us. The weather was often used as a reason why we could not go to some place we nominated. It is impossible to argue with a skipper when they play the weather and safety card because they are ultimately responsible. However, we had many dire predictions of horrendous storms and winds, none of which ever eventuated (just as the online forecasts predicted). I would show him the predictions but we would just shrug and suddenly his English would get worse. The overall consensus is that it is probably a mixture of everything. Sailing people around the Croatian Islands for 14 weeks straight would test anyone’s integrity. It was strange though that his brother kept popping up everywhere we went in the first week.

Skipper Lordan had a strict daily routine. He would rise at 8:30 no matter what and would wander off either along the wharf or in the dinghy to find coffee. He would return an hour later bearing an assortment of sweet breads to sustain him through the day. We would get underway between 9:30 and 10am, even if he had previously announced an “early start”. On big sail days, we would pull in somewhere in the early afternoon for lunch or a swim, which meant that it was time for Lordan to retire below and sleep. The time after lunch and a swim was mostly spent waiting for Lordan to wake up. Once we reached our destination, Lordan would head off to catch up with acquaintances before returning for a quick nap. This guy could sleep. He did dine with us on the boat a few times and sometimes at a restaurant. The terms state that we were responsible for feeding him so when he did accompany us to a restaurant, we paid. He usually ordered the most expensive meal of all of us. Still, he was a jovial character with a good sense of humor. His English ability was good but his hearing not so, resulting in some difficult conversations at times. A question along the lines of “How far is it to Stari Grad?” might get an answer of “There is a bit of cloud so you can’t see the stars.”

Skipper Lordan

Whenever practical, we sailed and shut down the engine. Our skipper was good that way. A boat load of New Zealanders we spoke to were peeved that they had been out for five days and hadn’t put the sails up. The boat sailed very well indeed and the few times the sea got up a bit she showed that she could handle bad conditions if needed. Fortunately, with the relatively light winds and the many islands that provide shelter, we seldom had much of a sea to contend with.

We swam most days, with the water a little chilly on entry but otherwise a good temperature. The water clarity here is amazing, it often being easy to make out the bottom in 40 feet of water. The fish life is limited and restricted to small fish and there was no coral growth. The sea grass beds look to be in reasonable condition but the bottom in areas where yachts had been anchoring was often a garbage tip with bottles, cans, clothes (mostly undies), plastic pegs and assorted bric a brac.

As always on our trips, we ate like kings, both on the boat and at restaurants. The waistline damage is yet to be fully assessed but it won’t be good. We had some excellent meals cooked on board, with Helen’s beautiful pork dish, Christine’s amazing chicken and a decadent meal of mussels, purchased from a floating mussel farm on the way up the Krka River to Skradin. One of the memorable restaurant meals include one in the old town at Stari Grad in an old three level building that reeked of ambience and boasted outstanding food. At another restaurant in the little cove of Senjska on the island of Solta we had a local dish called a Peka. This was a delicious mix of beef and lamb cuts with potatoes, carrot and cabbage slow roasted over coals in a large iron pan with a big iron cone acting as a lid. It was tender, packed full of flavour and equally full of calories. Of course, home made bread was used to soak up the juices. In Sibenik, we enjoyed a marvellous seafood mix with sardines, red mullet, shrimps and squid. There was so much food that we took home a “doggy bag”. Icecream excursions were common, with so much cheap and top quality icecream available. Bread was a bit of a mystery. Bakeries are common but they focus on sweet fare or long French style sticks. Occasionally, we managed to find some good rolls or loaves that suited but the next stop would be different again. The supermarkets tended to sell packaged white bread only suitable for toasting. The bakeries did sell some delicious pastry pieces that were filled with pork mince, a type of cheese curd or cheese and feta. They were excellent “munchy food”. We usually lunched on the boat and things seemed to build up from just a sandwich to huge spreads of continental fare, pickled octopus, olives, three types of cheese, salami, mortadella, tomatoes, etc. After a few such lunches we checked our waist lines and went back to the sandwiches.

Interaction with fellow cruisers was surprisingly limited, with few English speaking groups around and many European crews being insular to the point of not even returning a wave. Very noticeable was the number of boats crewed by large groups of young German men, who were almost universally loud, drunk and extremely late to bed. Tying up in the vicinity of such a party boat is not recommended. We did come across a boat of New Zealanders who would shout out “Hi Aussies” across the water when we met up. They were fun and far more friendly than most others. One group of young German men had few inhibitions about showering on the rear deck after swimming. Helen and Christine were particularly interested in one young man who was very generously proportioned. Much over rated I’m told. Mario and I were somewhat put out that males appear to outnumber females by about 10 to 1 in the cruising set.

Life did get to be dominated by toilets. We were all surprised to find that our boat, and many others, was not fitted with a sullage holding tank and that the toilet was a straight “pump out to sea” type. Of course, use of this in a port for “Number 2s” is definitely not on and so regular trips ashore were required to find a land based toilet. The quality of the shore toilets varied widely, as they do with caravan parks and long waits for a shower or cubicle could result in peak times. The boat did have a couple of showers, although one had very poor pressure. One of the two toilets also wasn’t functioning correctly. We all ate high fibre breakfasts and focussed on regularity.

Places we visited:

Maslinica – a small town on the north end of Solta. We used a restaurant buoy in a small cove to the south. A pretty little stop.

Kut – on the east side of Vis. Two small towns occupy a lovely deep cove. Kut is the old town and Luka the newer town. Restaurants abound, along with a few small swimming beaches. We took a buoy and enjoyed an afternoon and morning wandering around the villages and admiring the many big expensive boats entering the harbour. We were delighted to find a pretty little foreshore restaurant in Ku that was used for the filming of Mama Mia 2.

Kut and Luka on Vis

Palmizana – The Pakleni Islands are a beautiful group of isles made up of the tops of a submerged mountain range and so create a myriad small bays and coves, most filled with boats at anchor. We took a buoy in a cove called Palmizana which has a restaurant and bar, both very reasonably priced and with a varied menu. It was a short walk across the island to the ACI Marina, from where it was possible to catch a water taxi to Hvar Town on the nearby island of Hvar.

The Pakleni Islands
Palmizana on the Pakleni Islands

Stari Grad – Stari Grad is a very old town situated on the east coast of the large island of Hvar (pronounced Kwar). It was first settled by the Greeks in the 3rd Century BC but most of the old town dates from medieval times. The town is situated at the end of a long deep inlet, which contains a ferry terminal and a hotel resort complex. We moored stern on right in the middle of the old town where we could watch all the preparations for the upcoming traditional boat festival. The old town itself is simply gorgeous, with a labyrinth of tiny cobbled alleyways separating the many beautiful stone buildings and secluded courtyards. Walking through the alleyways at night with the soft glow of the street lights reflected off the marble and stone walls is one of the best experiences we have had. We enjoyed an amazing meal of local food at a three level medieval restaurant that simply dripped with ambience.

Stari Grad
A magical restaurant in Stari Grad

Hvar Town (Pronounced Kwar) – We caught a bus over the island to the popular tourist town of Hvar Town. The town was the usual collection of old stone buildings but had a large and vibrant front quay that was full of ferries and tourists. Hvar is often called “Britain’s Bali” and has a reputation stained by the sometimes poor behaviour of the younger set. We found it charming and a trip to the Spanjola, a massive fortress that overlooks the town. Not fancying the walk up the hill, we taxied up and down and spent an hour taking in the spectacular views over the town and the nearby Pakleni Islands. A visit down into the ancient dungeons opened our eyes as to just how horrible things must have been in times past if one was to fall foul of authority.

Hvar Town

Bobovisce – A little village on the northern end of the island of Brac. We tied up on mooring lines and used the tender to go across the inlet to the one restaurant and bar for a afternoon drink. Although small, the village was pretty and provided a cheap night anchorage.

Bobovisce on Island of Brac

Primosten – a very old island fort town just off the mainland north of Trogir. We moored stern on alongside some huge luxury yachts and took in to beautiful surrounds. The town is a very popular tourist resort, boasting three excellent beaches on different sides of the town so no matter what the wind direction there is a good beach. Being a Friday night, the town pumped up with a live band in the town square. The music went on until 5am and life was a lot slower the next morning. There are lovely walks around the island and up to the large church at the top of the town. Primosten would make a great holiday destination.

Primosten with its beautiful beaches

Sibenik – A large town and port a short distance into the Krka River system. The town features a long waterfront and promenade. Three fortresses of varying sizes look out over the town from the hills above, an indication of the strategic importance of the town in times past. The large Church of St James dates from the 15th Century and dominates the skyline with its gothic domes. As with most of the old towns there is a maze of lesser roads, alleyways and small piazzas. We backed onto the town promenade and explored the city, coming across a wedding in full swing at St James church and stopping for a beer at a small bar deep within the old town. A superb evening dinner was had at one of the many restaurants that line the foreshore. We found the seafood to be abundant and surprisingly cheap. The serves were very generous so we ended up taking home a “doggy bag” of assorted seafood.

Sibenik

Krka River – We motored up the Krka River from Sibenik to Skradin. The river snakes through a series of spectacular gorges and lakes, becoming progressively fresher. Oyster and mussel farms are common and we stopped to buy 5kg straight from the farm. Two huge bridges span the river.

Krka River

Skradin – this is the town that gives access to the beautiful Krka lakes and waterfalls. The town itself is little more than a village. There are a few harbour side moorings available (if you know the harbour master) or a well equipped but expensive ACI Marina. We tried to get a spot on the wharf but were rejected and sent to the marina. On the way up the Krka River, we had stopped to buy 5kg of fresh black mussels so it was mussels on the boat for dinner. We stayed for two nights and the second night we secured a spot on the town wharf, more than halving the cost and increasing the ambience no end.

Skradin with mussels for dinner

Krka National Park – this large park covers 109km2 around the Krka River. It is most famous for its lakes and waterfalls and attracts a huge number of visitors each year. The main area to visit is the Skradinski buk, a large series of waterfalls surrounded by walk trails through beautiful lush forest and a small hamlet. We accessed it via a boat trip from Skradin, access by yacht being impossible due to a low bridge upstream of Skradin. Swimming is popular but we didn’t bother due to the crowds and concentrated on  enjoying the walk and the magnificent scenery.

Skradinski buk in Krka National Park
Krka National Park

Rogoznica – A quaint little fishing village and tourist town south of Primosten. It lacked the appeal of Primosten but had the usual line of waterfront restaurants and a couple of beaches that were more concrete than sand. We came across a restaurant called Restaurant Mario so we felt we had to give it a go. It was very good fare and a pleasant atmosphere.

Rogoznica

Senjska – A  very pretty small cove on the south side of the island of Solta. The only buoys available are owned by the small family restaurant in the cove and they can be used free on condition one dines at the restaurant. Unfortunately, we occupied the most inshore buoy and the slight groundswell was funneled down to the end of the cove and we found the anchorage to be very rolly.

Senjska with a delicious Peka

Trogir – The last two nights were spent back in Trogir, as rain and strong winds suggested that Milna, our last destination, was full up with most people electing to stay in port. We were happy enough after two weeks at sea to take in a bit more of beautiful Trogir.

What was the pick of it all?  Probably the lovely town of Stari Grad with its gorgeous maze of alleyways. The sail from Vis to the Pakleni Islands was wonderful, with a great breeze and a steady 6.5 knots. We came across a few dolphins but the best site was a school of large tuna feeding on sardines, leaping from the water across a large area of ocean.

Would we recommend the experience? Absolutely. The bucket list was well and truly served. Great company (thanks Helen and Mario), amazing cruising and an unforgettable experience.

Rome-Split-Trogir 2019

September 7, 2019 /

The great adventure begins, a bucket list item to be ticked off. The next four weeks consists of two weeks sailing in beautiful Croatia followed by ten days in a small Italian village as a base for exploring Tuscany. Two other couples are joining us for the sailing and Mario and Helen will go on to Italy with us. Alex and Lucy will return to Germany, where they are currently visiting a new grandchild.

We caught up with Mario and Helen at Perth airport check-in and did the usual parade through security, immigration etc before settling in to wait for boarding our Qatar Airways flight to Doha. The flight left at 10:50pm and landed in Doha at 5:15am. Because the plane was basically chasing the sun, it was 11 hours of night time starting in the middle of the night. It is weird to be served a dinner meal at midnight. It was the usual watch a movie, try to sleep, go to the loo, watch a movie, …. routine but the flight was pretty good overall. The plane was a giant two deck A380 and we were impressed with the standard.

Most of the three hours in Doha consisted of walking along endless corridors of duty free shops and paying an amazing $A8 for a coffee. There was not much to see outside apart from what appeared to be appalling smog. By 8am, the outside temperature was around 30 degrees with 41 forecast.

We boarded the next leg of the journey onto a smaller A330 which promised a tad more legroom but not much more. The standard was much lower with terrible TV screens and cramped foot room. It was another 5 hours to Rome and by the time we exited the airport to find the shuttle bus to the Airport Mecure, we had had enough. We had just missed one shuttle and heavy traffic delayed the next so we had quite a wait before we were on our way to the little town of Fiumicino, bordering the edge of the airport to book into the Mecure Leonardo da Vinci for the night.

After collapsing for an hour or so, we met up again and headed out to explore the little fishing town, sitting on the banks of an arm of the River Tiber. It is more on the industrial side than the tourist but there was a very cute line of restaurants and bars that caught our attention. With all the time shifts and erratic meals, none of us had any idea of what biological time we were in but it certainly felt like beer o’clock so we settled in to an Irish pub and sampled a range of the extensive on-tap offerings. We followed up with some delicious food.   By 8:15 we were all in bed.

The next day was to be easy, with a 1 hour flight to Split in Croatia leaving at the civilized time of 11:25 am. We gave ourselves plenty of time, leaving the hotel at 8:20 to allow for the possible traffic snarls we made excellent time and found the Vueling Air counter to check in. Much to our horror, we had not booked ANY luggage. I say “We” but in reality it was down to Christine but we don’t need to dwell on that point. Being a low cost airline, luggage is not included. To book in luggage at checkin was going to cost us $A60 each. The nice girl at the counter suggested that we go away and purchase luggage check-in online, where it would only cost us $A20 a head. We sat while Christine played with the phone then presented again. “I can’t find any record of your payment,” said the girl. We retired for a second go. Christine’s creds were taking a beating at this stage. On third presentation, our luggage was checked in and it was off to find a boarding gate.

We wandered the corridors, bought some duty free booze, made several wrong turns before finally finding gate E01 and getting on a bus to the plane. The flight was crazy short, up and over the calf of Italy and across the narrow Adriatic Sea to land in Split. Immigration was efficient and the luggage was quickly retrieved. Not so for everyone. A long line of people waiting at a small window was half the passengers on an Easyjet flight whose luggage had gone somewhere other than Split. A great start to their holiday.

Once again, we located the Airport Shuttle Bus rank for the 20km trip into Split. A very comfortable bus arrived and we all bundled in. It rattled along the coast road for about 8km before coming to an almost complete halt in the heaviest traffic I have ever seen in Croatia. We crawled along for nearly another hour, travelling at less than walking pace. The drop off point was a little over a kilometre from our accommodation so we loaded the backpacks and dragged the wheelie bags across the flagstones in front of the ancient Roman place. Everywhere there where people relaxing and drinking, while we were tired, footsore and ready for a break. The apartment proved a little tricky to find, tucked in amongst a cluster of old stone structures at the end of a series of narrow laneways but we finally met Damir and were settled in to our AirBnB apartment.

The apartment was functional, neat and clean. The big appeal was location, location with a bit more location thrown in. It was a short step around the corner to an endless variety of eateries and a little supermarket. Diocletian’s Palace was only a few hundred metres away and the World Famous esplanade in front of the palace was within easy reach. We did to eateries in the one afternoon, with beer and local tapas at one followed beer wine and pizza at another. It was a marvellous end to a crazy day where we spent most of a day working hard for a little over an hour’s flight time. Still, we had arrived in Croatia safely and without major incident.

Split

Our first day in Split was spent in a exploration of Diocletian’s Palace. Built in the 4th Century, the palace of the Roman Emperor Diocletian occupies over half of the old town area. Visible signs of the original palace vary from near complete sections with Roman mosaic floors to walls and buildings rebuilt many times over the centuries, incorporating Roman columns and arches. The effect is stunning, with new vistas at every turn and an abundance of incredibly cute little nooks and hide-aways. Every little plaza is filled with cafes and the alleyways are lined with stone walled shops showing off the colourful crafts of the region. Just walking around inside the palace area is a continual delight.

The crowds are rather heavy though, far heavier than we have experienced before, with several cruise ships being in port. One is simply enormous, dominating the harbour, and looks more like a giant sheep carrier than a cruise ship.

Helen and Mario went walking and returned several hours later thrilled with their excursion to the Park Suma Marjan, a large sprawling nature park with a high lookout over Split. Helen is doing very well with all the walking following some recent health issues but waited at the bottom of the final 330 step climb while Mario pushed on to bring back some wonderful photos of the two main bays that surround the city. They enjoyed a wine or two taking in the views. Meanwhile, we did a spot of shopping, organised some SIM cards for our internet aboard the yacht and found a cool spot to sample more of the excellent local Karlovako beer.

After a very Mediterranean meal of olives, cheeses and salami, Mario and Helen went back out to take in the beauty of the palace at night. The rock walls create gorgeous colours and shadows creating a fairy-tale like effect.  We relaxed.

Day 3 in Croatia had us travelling north to Trogir, from where we would pick up our yacht. The coastal ferry to Trogir was due to run at 1pm so we spent a couple of hours sitting at a cafe on the Split Esplanade drinking a coffee, eating lunch and generally watching the wonderful world pass by. It was such a hardship.

The ferry trip was amazing, providing beautiful views of the harbour, the headland and the villages along the coast of the island of Ciovo and on to the gorgeous little town of Trogir. Trogir dates from the 3rd Century BC and has at various times been Greek, Roman, Croat, Austrian and Venetian. The Venetian influence is most noticeable. The old town is situated on a small island between the mainland and the larger island of Ciovo. Almost the entire island is covered in white stone buildings separated by a maze of twisting winding cobbled alleyways. The only vehicle roads are around the edge of the island, leaving everything else for foot traffic. If the palace at Split is a 10/10, Trogir old town is an 11/10. It is breathtaking and fully deserves its World Heritage status.  

We made our way over the two bridges to the mainland and completed the short walk to our accommodation, to be greeted by Stefan, our host. He showed us around a neat three bedroom apartment on the second floor with all mod cons and plenty of facilities.

We had a three bedroom apartment because Alex and Lucy were due to fly down from Germany to join us for the sailing but sadly, we had received news that Alex’s medical condition was showing some contra indications and they had been advised not to travel to Croatia but to stay in Germany. It was very sad for us but no doubt doubly sad for them. Still, health comes first. From here on, many of our toasts will be to Alex and Lucy.

We had deliberately staved off the temptation to look up the football score as the Eagles played Essendon in an Elimination Final so we could set up in the apartment and watch a replay using Kayo on the Internet. We must have announced our arrival to the rest of the residents with our screaming (especially Mario’s) as the eagles demolished a hapless Bombers.

That night, we ventured back into the old town to be absolutely charmed by the effects of the soft lighting in the narrow stone lined walkways. We settled at a charming restaurant and had wood fired pizza and seafood pasta. All the chairs and tables were carved out of olive wood and each piece was unique.  There were places that looked like a scene straight out of a Harry Potter movie. Afterwards, we wandered down to the castle fortress at the end of the island and admired all the huge expensive boats moored along the harbour. As we approached an ice creamery, a waiter saw our West Coast shirts and cheered us, saying he too had watched the match. Good to see the AFL spreading its wings.

The next day we explored more of the old town. Mario and Helen went back to the fortress and climbed (Helen continues to amaze) to the top for views down onto the town. We spent some time in the local market and when I approached a woman for help finding something she answered in perfect English with a trace of an Aussie accent. Turns out she was from Melbourne originally. Small world.

Our time in Trogir was brief but we will probably pass back through after a week’s sailing. It is one of our favourite places anywhere, its charm and easy life is so seductive. I could live here a while.

Now it’s off sailing!

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