Oxford

R & H took me up to Oxford on the 17th. It was lovely, if rather imposing. I found it actually quite intimidating. Not sure I'd really like to study there, although I imagine if I did, I'd love it. It's another light and airy town like Bath but with a lot more gravitas somehow. There were some truly beautiful buildings and the attention to detail is amazing - the gargoyles themselves are a damn hoot! I enjoyed it, but perhaps would go back when we didn't have a little person around who had to be entertained. Any hoo, pics are of Christ College x 2, a replica of a Venetian bridge, inside the college of physicians and the library!

There is no 'R' in 'Bath'

Whence I went today. And a brilliant day it turned out to be. Beautiful weather, beautiful city, beautiful... well you get the picture.

I thoroughly enjoyed myself even after being woken up yet again by the ass of a person in the bed next door snoring like a train... anyway.

Bath is full of 'Bath Stone' which is white to begin with, hence the city is mostly a light yellowish colour. Very bright and airy.

I went on one of those bus sight-seeing tours before getting out and trotting around on foot. I saw the Royal Crescent and Royal Circus, went for a tour around the Jane Austen Centre and through the Roman Bath's (Acqua Sulis?) and went inside the Bath Cathedral.

I bought and ate some fudge which was remarkably light. It was ancient and amazing and beautiful and pretty and yes, I enjoyed it immensely.

Images in order of appearance are: The Upper Assembly Rooms, The Royal Crescent, Bath Cathedral, Inside the Roman Baths, and the outside of the Roman Baths and Pump Room

You'll think I'm crazy...

But I really enjoyed driving around England. Everyone has told me horror stories and say it's blood awful, but I think I have inherited dad's love of driving, 'cause I found it fun. It was certainly very zen.

Yesterday saw me driving from Exeter to London and back to drop off some stuff at my storage thing and I found the trip really easy. The roads are good, the services are fabulous (at least five different shops, always including a cafe. Mmmmm... coffee...), the other drivers are polite, the speed limits are not limiting and with a GPS unit, there was so little stress the nine hour trip was a breeze! I actually found driving through London easier than driving through Sydney because of the GPS taking all the stress out of navigating.

I took the M5/M4 route through Bristol and stopped off at Reading for a job interview on the way back (don't get your hopes up, I'm not too confident about that part), and I didn't get caught in a single traffic jam. I was hellishly lucky about that last bit I know, but all the same, the drive was a lot more pleasant than I was led to expect. Admittedly I have probably done a lot more driving than most of my friends here, what with all the countless trips between Melbourne-Adelaide and Canberra-Bendigo I've done, but still...

So, having spent a lot of time on the motorways yesterday, today I took to the back routes. I drove down to Torquay (Lovely, pretty little town that trades heavily on it's Agatha Christie connection, with a gorgeous Abbey) and spent a relaxing morning wandering around and having tea on the terrace by the water! :) I also went to Cockington, a model village nearby, and spent a lovely time wandering around the grounds there.

And then I wound my way up through Devon to the edge of Dartmoor, and somehow managed to find Castle Drogo.

That was fun.

I really didn't believe that there were as many narrow lanes around the place as I had been told, but I found, and spent hours driving on, a whole heap of them today. So narrow you can't open your car doors if you stopped and passing another car is an adventure. I had to do that several times and it was damn hairy! You can only do it at certain spots on the road, so I actually spent a fair amount of time going backwards so that I could reach said spot and let another car pass me. I'm so glad I spent so long driving a manual when I was younger, otherwise today would have been impossible!

Castle Drogo was interesting. The last real castle built in England, it was constructed between 1911 and 1930 I think, with a break for the war. Very stylised. An Englishman's ideal of what a castle should be I think. Luxury and comfort and central heating and grandeur and opulence (three, count them, 3 kitchens!). Not sure it was really worth the 8 quid entry price though. But I found and went and had an actual Devonshire tea, in Devonshire (my first in eight months of living here would you believe?) at the cafe there, so not a wasted trip by any means.

Now, I'm knackered. But yeah, I enjoyed driving in England. Go figure.

Freedom

I have almost left the building. I mean, Plymouth. Well, I've almost left the building in Plymouth.

What am I waffling about? Well, I am about to be homeless. My job contract ended last week and now my rental contract is up, so I am about to take off into the wide world and explore. I have a rental car, I have too much stuff as always, and I have nowhere I have to be and no one I have to please, so I'm going to float. Zen traveling. Well, almost. I have a date with a hostel in Exeter and a desire to see Bath before I might have to leave this country, so some time in the next week, I'll see those places.

But other than that - life is wide open. Scary. Fun.

London and Chicargo.

The first a city, the second a musical!

I went up to London on Friday and spent the evening playing Agricola with Richard, Hillary and Helen. It was nice to say hi but we were all pretty pooped. Afterward I actually had a bit of a mini crisis; I couldn't for the life of me remember why I was in the UK and it was all rather overwhelming.

But then Saturday was a beautiful day and reminded me why I like this side of the earth so much.

I started the day by shopping around Camden Markets for stripy over-the-knee socks; an item of clothing I have found it difficult to purchase elsewhere. Oh, you can get over-the-knee socks, but not the incredibly dazzling ones you find in Camden. I got eight pairs :D.

Then I proceeded to have a lovely cuppa at my favourite tea-house (also in Camden Markets - in the Camden Lock Market out the back if you're looking) called YumChaa. This is a place where they have smelling pots of every tea variety they sell out on display so you can choose what you want to drink that day by sniffing it! Heaven! They also sell chocolate brownies that are to die for.

Jason joined me for brunch at Foggs. Of around-the-world-in-80-day's fame. Need I say more?

Then we went off to do tourist stuff - and decided to see and to climb St Paul's Cathedral. I hadn't been inside St Paul's before, it was under wraps the last time I was in London, but it is indeed beautiful. I couldn't take photos inside but the detail was literally awe inspiring - the point I guess. It was built by Christopher Wren after the London fires 300 years ago. 528 steps later you get an absolutely awe-inspiring biew of London too. Hoooowee!


Atferward, the requirement for energy and a place to rest my dead knee led us to a Paul's. Jason will stand testament that I drank the whole of a large hot chocolate in no time flat and the rhubarb flan was as incredible as I remembered... yaum!

We met up with Belinda Knott (incredibly, she stepped off the bus right in front of us whilst Jason was talking to her describing where we were - coincidence incomparable!), and went for a beer, found with difficulty due to the number of closed pubs. I couldn't tell you the name of the bar though, as I gulped my (very tasty) beer in order to get changed so that I could rush off to meet up with Helen and Hilary... who were late.

But I got a few good pictures of the Cambridge Theatre at the Seven Dials (a roundabout with a statue on it with seven dials and seven streets leading away from it). We were there to see the musical Chicargo, and after a hurried dinner at some italian restaurant which looked remarkably like a wagamamma inside, we did so.

It was magical! I am squirming right now as I type due to the exquisite enjoyment I derived from those incredible dancers and singers. The reason we went was to see Ruthie Henshall - a legend of the theatre, and she was absolutely fabulous as Roxy Hart. Not quite as young and naive as perhaps the role required, but her acting was truly superb. And the men.... ooooooh the men! Their hips! They could DANCE!

Wow.

And we topped the evening with cocktails at a hotel bar across from the theatre. I had a cosmopolitan, which was really delicious. Must remember to have that again some time.

So, yeah. A great day. And a good trip. All I need now is a job.

That was a first.

I'm currently (as in on a train right now) en route back to Plymouth.

I left Bendigo at about 8pm ish some time yesterday and have been on the road about 32 hours now and have at least another 3 to go. Nowhere near as bad as Helen's 60 hour nightmare, of which I must obtain the details of at some stage, but enough for me.

I was really annoyed too when I left, as I only remembered to check in at about 6pm, and so couldn't get the best seat and had been shifted from my customary window seat to a middle isle. This was admittedly further to the front of the plane than I had been, but I still didn't want to try to sleep in an isle being bumped all the time and so I was very grumpy with the airline... that was up until I actually got onto the plane and realised where they'd put me. Qantas now has four classes of travel. First, Business, Premium Economy and plain cattle; and I'd been upgraded from cattle to premium. I had to triple check this, even almost asking one of the attendants if this was right, but I wasn't quite that stupid. I was very happy.

This is the first time I've ever been upgraded. It was heavenly and I didn't at all mind the isle as the seats were so much better. Spacious and comfy, and I had leg room! And the food was good too and the service excellent. Very, very happy.

Right now, I'm sitting in first class on the train too. I had had a seat reservation for the 6pm train this evening, having no idea how long it would take me to get from the airport, and if I'd be delayed etc. If I'd waited for that train I'd have extended my journey by another 4 hours though, so not fun and really not what I wanted to do. But the plane was in fact early landing and I got out of Heathrow very quickly so I am now waiting to pay for an upgrade on this train as I decided to just get on the first one going my way and pay for it (20 quid, quite reasonable in the state of exhaustion I am currently suffering).

So I am going to finish my journey in the style to which I have become accustomed.

Bliss.

Happy New Year to Melbourne, Canberra and Sydney, which happened two hours ago, and Happy New Year to Adelaide which happened an hour and a half ago.

And Happy New Year to the Uk, in about 8 hours, by which time if I am not asleep I'll be pissed beyond belief and not with the affects of alcohol.

Ok, going now. See you on the other side! :)

Off to Oz

I'm going to thaw out over Christmas in the 33 degree heat that is home right at this moment. I'm looking forward to seeing the family very much, but I'm not looking forward to the five days of traveling I have to do to get there, especially as I only get eight days actually in the country. Ah well. Home sweet home it is.

STONEHENGE!!!

Well, I didn't actually get up and personal with it but I saw it. I took loads and loads of pictures from over the fence and as we were driving past, so I have a record of the visit, but one day I'd like to actually go in and see it up close.

The reason I was there was that we had a meeting outside Salisbury and as it is a 3.5 hr drive from Plymouth to Salisbury, we stayed overnight in the town. Andy was kind enough to take me to see the famous rocks en route to our meeting. And so I saw Stonehenge. Very impressive.

Salisbury is a very atmospheric place actually. The place we stayed at was the Pembroke Arms, and out our window we could see Wilton House I believe, which is the main seat of the Earl of Pembroke. The hotel used to be part of the (very large) stables of the estate, and is very old too. The door to my room was not quite square having sunk on one side, and if I'd been two inches taller I'd have hit my head on it.

Some of the people from the Salisbury office came out and took us on a tour of the town so I got to see Salisbury Cathedral by night, which was very fine. I wish I'd been able to see it in daylight actually, it was quite beautiful. And then they took us on a ghost tour. :) The ghosts are not inimical - one plays the piano, another is a maid who tidies up, and there is a poltergeist who re-arranged the china displays in the windows. Quite interesting.

We then went for a drink in a pub called "The Haunch of Venison" where they have a glass case enclosing the remains of someone's hand - it was apparently cut off for stealing or something during the 16 or 1700's and then re-discovered when the pub was renovated. Nice.

We then toured some more - there are some amazing old buildings around the place, of Tudor age I think, sinking their way gracefully into decay - and finished the night in a second pub called the New Inn which had beams low enough that even I would hit my head if I wasn't careful - very cosy and very cool.

And very atmospheric. Lovely town Salisbury. And lovely Stonehenge.

Bristol Encounter

The weekend of the 18th of September saw me on a trip up to Bristol to catch up with the marvelous Marty, joining us from Oz for a blitz, and the generous Jason. Jason has a good friend there, the charming Charlie, who he has told me, on more than one occasion, I would like immensely. As usual, he was right! In fact the splendid fellow has already introduced me to new things, heading my war cry of 'Experiences, Not Acquisitions!' Charlie and her lovely housemate Clare made us feel very much at home on their hill, and even Clare's cat, Molly, joined me on my bed of an evening.

On arrival, we was introduced to a most excellent pub called The Cornubia, brewer of many fine beers, and then meandered into town for a very interesting meal at Zulu (a South African restaurant). I had Blesbok, of which animal I had never previously heard! Then we headed back to the Cornubia and the night got rather beer-tinged!

On the Saturday, after a rather luxurious lie-in and wonderful breakfast cooked by the excellent Charlie, we hoofed it up to Clifton to visit the White Lion bar for a tea on the terrace and a look at the famous suspension bridge. We then decided not to go to Camera Obscura, which was further up the hill, in favour of seeing the SS Great Britain, which was closed by the time we got there. Ah well, lots of chat and sights seen and fresh air had so all good!

I actually managed to come home almost rested from this trip, and as always it was lovely to catch up with the boys - who I miss dearly - and to make new friends. A GTHBA weekend methinks!

Stockholm Part 1

Sorry - Stockholm can wait.

Yes there is a missing 2.5 weeks I need to account for and at some stage soonish, I will, but I haven't gotten around to writing it up yet (Note to self, write as you go, don't leave it 'till afterward). Since there are now several new blogs stacked up behind the Stockholm ones waiting for me to publish them, I'm going to do just that and do a catch up for Stockholm sometime later.

So, watch this space!

British Museum and National Gallery.

I was unprepared to have been so prepared yesterday and so had nothing to do today so I went and played tourist (see last blog). For some unknown reason, I hadn’t managed to get to either the British Museum nor the National Gallery last time I was here, so decided to tick a few more boxes with those two.

To be honest, the only reason I wanted to go to the Brit Museum was for something called the reading room – a huge circular library. Anyone who knows me knows my predilection for books and anything resembling a book shop or library. So imagine my disappointment on getting to the museum to find it was being used as and exhibition space which cost money to get into and that all the books had been removed for the duration anyway so there really was no point in me seeing it. I wandered around semi-aimlessly for a while and saw some of the other displays. I did like seeing the Rosetta stone and some of the medieval stuff was very cool – especially the swords. But I kind of felt let down after that.

The National Gallery was beautiful though, if a tad stuffy – one felt like a child that had to be constantly reminded of good behaviour. I got told off ‘cause I didn’t turn off my mobile and someone had the indecency to ring me. Gah! No photos allowed either which was annoying. All due reverence to the institution but I found that my jet lag didn’t really permit me to enjoy it much.

So my day was a little lacking. I can probably put it down to tiredness too, but there were also an awful lot of people around. This was due to a bank holiday I had failed to get wind of but I was pretty unhappy and quite annoyed at having to push my way through a whole load of Muppets.

Ah well. Next time better luck.

Lisbon, Portugal.

Day 1: I sure can pick ‘em. This hotel was in an of out the way back alley. I waited 3/4 hrs for a bus that's supposed to come every 20 minutes to get into the vicinity of the place and then walked through winding back streets that made me afraid I’d be mugged, but made it safely to the hotel and it was a nice clean place with a comfy bed.

Day 2: I ate the basic breakfast provided with the room and then wandered down into town to try to find a train station. Which was actually a lot more difficult than you’d think given the number of places I’ve been to now. You’d think I’d be good at navigating to and identifying different transport systems. The problem is that for every place you go to, the signs for how a train station is marked change, so I spent a good 20 minutes wandering around a massive intersection that was marked on my map as having a train station within it but only stumbled on it by accident because it wasn’t marked like any other train system I’d ever come across.

However, once found, the metro was clean, efficient, fast and spacious. It was very easy to understand too and absolutely lovely in comparison to the tube. And I’m sorry Helen, but it's even nicer than the Swedish equivalent. Which is odd, because the rest of Lisbon is well warn, quite frayed around the edges and has an air of decay. But in its defence it is old, and very well used and very well loved by the feel of things, so this isn’t necessarily a disadvantage.

As half of the reason that I came to Portugal was to see some sunshine and a beach and the sea, I wandered down into the centre of town, down the main boulevard and down to the shore. It was bitterly disappointing. It was all fenced off and very rocky, really not much to look at all and definitely not the sort of place you’d relax on. So I went to a café instead and had a cup of tea and a custard tart, which is a specialty of Lisbon (a more jellied version of your standard tart and sweeter), then went off to play tourist.

A little description; Lisbon is surrounded by, and drapes itself all over, 7 hills, and so has developed a network of quaint trams to get it’s inhabitants around, up and down. I caught the no 28 tram to the top of one of the hills, to a region called Alfama, and boy are parts of Lisbon ever STEEP! The tram was on a 45-degree angle for a lot of the time, and no, I am not joking!

Once up, I walked around and took pictures of and visited various places including the Igreja de Graca (a church), the Feira de Ladre (thieves market), had lunch in front of the Museu de Artes Decorativas and then wandered on to my main objective, the Castelo de Sao Jorge (Castle of Saint George!).

Which was Wow may I just say! It was better than sex, more exhilarating than a roller coaster ride, better food for my soul than any music and more satisfying than chocolate. It was fantastic. A real castle with real arrow slits that had been used in real battles, with a real draw bridge and real moat, real towers and the whole turret thing happening… I was in heaven. The castle’s first foundations were laid in 138 BC…. 138 BC. He he he he…wow. It wasn’t until 711 though, when the Moors arrived, that it was fortified and the mosque was built. It was fought over and sacked in the crusades in 1147. The actual crusades… yes I’m repeating myself but just being there with so much history made me dizzy. And I got pictures of some cats play fighting in the moat and some very gorgeous peacocks wandering out the front of the draw bridge, so it was all in all a magical interlude for me.

After which I took many, many winding streets down to the centre of town again. My feet were incredibly sore by the time I reached the bottom and my calves were killing me, not from walking but from the limestone cobbles everywhere that make walking an interesting proposition. So what did I do? I decided to put them through more torture and walked up another hill so see the bones of a church ruined in an earthquake in 1755. The Convento do Carmo was a Carmelite convent built in 1423. It has been 1/2 restored so is now a false ruin, but is breath-taking none-the less.

Then it was time to find my way to the place that was the ostensible reason for my visit: The Publico Atlantico, Lisbon’s entertainment centre equivalent, situated next door to the convention centre. To get there, I had to take a train, and coming out of the Orient train station, I will admit to being shocked. The station entrance looks like a crab about to eat you. Very cool.

The mushroom of the Publico Atlantico is also impressive. The roof is open under the eves, so even in the walkways surrounding the main stadium, the sound is just as loud as if you were inside the stadium itself. The Cure produced a fantastic concert as usual. The entire stadium was on it’s feet jumping in time to the music by the halfway mark. I was thrilled to hear some old favourites amongst their new stuff but left early to avoid the rush. I caught a taxi to save 30 mins of extra train travel and it cost me only 4 euro... Portugal is nicely not that expensive! I then crashed.

Day 3: Today I decided to be decadent and find a place to sit and read and absorb sunlight. In hopes of which I went first to the Parque Edwardo VII. It’s a huge linear garden but acts as more of a thoroughfare than a place to sit, and it was very steep and very windy, so I didn’t stop. I did however find a lovely restaurant behind the garden, situated beside a pond where I was able to relax for a bit. I had loads of tea and saw a tortoise, some tadpoles, some huge goldfish, and ducklings... But sitting at a restaurant table didn’t meet the requirement of sun-bathing.

So it was on to the university botanical garden, the Jardin Botanico. I think I might have mentioned that Lisbon is hilly? Well this was the first botanical garden I’ve been to where hiking boots are almost a requirement, not because of the muck and dirt but because of the steepness and rockiness of the paths. No manicured paradise this. Like all of Lisbon, a little warn, a little frayed around the edges, a little old and very well used. There was not much grass round, but here I finally found a place to lie down and read in the sun. Until the clouds rolled in… *sigh*… home time.

Just one more oddity to mention; traffic lights in Lisbon. They are very interesting. They use really small lights which are situated in the same alignment as the line that the cars stop at. I honestly have no idea how the drivers could see them, because I couldn’t, and they don’t get a second set across the intersection either. A mystery to be investigated on another visit I think.

Coming home our plane was delayed due to horrible weather in London. Delays seem to be part and parcel of plane travel. If you do enough of it, you’ll be delayed. It is just a fact of life. And at any rate, this delay wasn’t too bad. It was nothing compared to the delays in the US I had when I went through LAX when nobody wanted to tell us anything. The staff on this flight kept us informed at all times of what was going on, and the captain was really gracious, inviting anyone who wanted to, to come up to the flight deck and chat or ask questions or anything. Really lovely.
Of course, expectation management is the hardest. We got on board on time as usual, but then sat on the plane for two hours whilst the time we were able to land got pushed back and back at Heathrow. Eventually they told us all to get off, so we sat in the terminal for another couple of hours. Then they got us - hurriedly - back on board but we then had to sit and wait for another hour and a half. A lot of the passengers were getting upset because they had thought we were leaving the first time and to be delayed again… Well, I arrived at Lisbon airport at 5 am, was supposed to have landed at Heathrow at 9.30 so was hoping to be at work by 10.30. I didn’t make it to work until 3.30 pm. I suppose all things considered a delay of 5 hours isn’t bad. But I was totally wiped out by the time I did get to work.

Mind you there really is no point in getting annoyed or angry in any situation over which you have no control. It only makes you feel miserable, and by griping, you make everyone around you equally miserable. It’s best to take it all with a relaxed attitude which is what I tried to do. There’s nothing you can do about it, so what’s the point in making yourself sick with worry? There was one guy who had a tendency to be extremely ornery and who was doing just that – making everyone else around him miserable. I was getting very annoyed with the way he was badgering the poor flight attendants, when they couldn't do anything either, but luckily his attention was caught by the lovely lady sitting across the isle from him (intentionally on her behalf I believe) and his demeanour changed markedly. Last I saw of them they were sitting cosily in a cafe in Heathrow having both missed connections but not seeming to care at all - 8 hours of forced contact and co-inhabitancy will do that to you. So all’s well that ends well.

Stockholm Take 2

I went to visit Helen and Johan this weekend in Stockholm, Sweden, and it was lovely.

The only downside was that I stupidly calculated how long it took me to get there. I left work at 1330 on Friday and got to Helen's at 2130. On the way home I left Helen's at 1700 and got home after 2300. With the hour’s time difference, that makes for a seven-hour journey both ways. Ouch. That's longer than it used to take me to drive from Canberra to Bendigo to see Ali.

But: and it's a big but: I really had a lovely time. H & J are great hosts and we had gorgeous food all weekend and they really made an effort to entertain me royally including excellent tea in copious amounts, homemade blueberry crumble, Kanel Bullan (sp?? Tastes just like Cinnamon toast – yum) roast beef with mushroom stuffing and home-cooked bread for breakfast. And we even had tablecloths and linen napkins with every meal! Wow. Very Cool! :)

And Stockholm is a beautiful city. Clean lines, elegant architecture, clean streets and fresh air. I finally got to see some of it after spending my entire last trip sewing a bag for H for the wedding (grrr… damn stretchy fabric!). Really lovely. And even the weather cooperated. It wasn't snowing and (for this time of year) was a balmy 8-9 degrees. It's supposed to be minus lots right now. In fact J was saying that it is possibly the mildest winter that Stockholm has seen in recorded history. I didn’t mind a bit.

There is a real dearth of craft- shops in London because the overheads here are so ridiculous so H took me round to see some of their craft shops and I spent lots (the actual real down-side to Stockholm is the cost of things; it is expensive even if you are earning pounds). We did lots of talking and shopping and talking and craft and talking and walking and had chocolates and basically caught up. It was all good.

An actual relaxing holiday in a strange city for a change. Very happy.

Christmas in Solden, Austria

While I am at home and going slowly insane from boredom, it seems as good a time as any to tell you about Austria, even though it will take me forever to type, being as I am the one-armed bandit today. *sigh* Well, what else are you going to do, hey?

All photos found Here.

It was actually a really lovely trip. I went with Jason, Richard, Martin, Rachael (cousin of Richard’s), Nicole (friend of Rachael’s) and Mark (workmate of Richard’s). We left from the newly re-vamped St. Pancras station with everyone except Martin, who was meeting us in Cologne, and with the addition of Hilary, who was coming with us for the first night to see New Model Army in concert. There’s a lovely giant statue at the station of a couple saying goodbye, and apparently a clock that used to be the focus of all fond farewells from the olden days. I was deathly afraid that we’d miss the train (being as I am a tad prone to the need to be on time), as both Richard and Mark were very late arriving. But we did make it. No time to take a breath, but we all got on the train, which was a good start… ich.

A brief stop-over in Brussels allowed us to have a drink at the Murphy’s Law Irish Pub…. hummm. I was hoping it wasn’t to be the theme for the week.

Then it was onto Koln (Cologne) in Germany for a night stop-over. Rich, Jase, Hilary and Martin went off to the NMA gig and Rach and Nic went off to their hostel, leaving Mark and I to wander around the Christmas Markets and get very deeply inebriated on Eierpunch (alcoholic eggnog) and Gluhvine (mulled wine). The night was fun. The next morning however, was not fun. Stoopid Kat.

Nine hour lovely and sedate train journey with hang-over, followed by 20 minute insanely scary cab ride with car-sickness later and we’re in the Snow… wow. Solden is a very large ski-resort. We could have skied up to our door were we of a mind to. We tromped through snow to get to the restaurant for dinner. I slipped on some ice and fell into the snow after dinner. Wow wow wow. Excitement all a bit much. Crash into bed and zzzzz

Day 1: Fitting and hiring of gear which was highly amusing (note to self, next time, make sure that you can’t move your heel up or down in the shoe – if you can, it’s too loose and you’ll get cramps), booking of lessons for the day after Christmas (ouch… money is fleeing me!), a gondola ride up and up and up and up and up (literally breath-taking and so very beautiful), a few terrified first slides down the smallest of beginners slopes, then a mad-dash back into town and through the grocery store to buy everything we may need for the next few days whilst shop assistants looked at us with daggers as we made them close the store late…oops. Dinner in the apartment and games after.

Day 2: Christmas calls home (*sniff* miss you guys!), back up to the slopes for more practice (bend ze knees!), back home to shower and change (bruises… when did I get bruises?). And then, it was Christmas time. Rachael and Nicole absolutely out-did themselves. With next to no supplies, no oven and very little time, they produced a scrumptious feast for us all. Pot-roast chickens, zucchini, carrots, brussel sprouts and potatoes made a yummy, if somewhat odd, Christmas dinner, followed by cakes galore (pudding isn’t on the menu for Austrian’s at Christmas – my one regret!) and they even had Tim Tams. Thanks guys. It was really lovely!

Day 3: First day of lessons. Ouch. Between the discovery of muscles I didn’t know I had and one’s I’ve never even heard of before, the continuous burning of cramps in calves, shins and thighs, and the amount of time I spent sitting on snow, flailing in frozen mid-air and landing hard on ice… I mean, OUCH! I did learn that my arms weren’t strong enough for me to get up on my back edge, and my knees didn’t like getting up on front edge, so I was kind of stuffed, but I persevered, and apart from one nasty fall when I winded myself, I actually managed to sort of snowboard down a blue slope with the group by the end of the day. Yay.

Day 4: Day two of lessons was stopping, cornering and turns… scary as hell. I failed entirely at turns. Just too damn scared to do it. It’s counter-intuitive; you have to lean DOWN slope when you’re going down hill and all I think of was crashing face-first at speed. I couldn’t get over that fear. I did manage to sort of master corners a little, and I could stop myself by going up hill, as long as I wasn’t going too fast, but by lunch time, all my stamina, all my energy was gone and I was running on adrenalin alone… I fell mid-afternoon. Badly. Sprained my wrist and so that was the end of lessons for me.

Day 5: Sightseeing! Was kind of glad for the excuse actually. I did want to see a little of Solden before I left, and so did so. The views were… Magnificent, spectacular, breath-taking... It’s so cheesy, but it’s so true. wow. It was really gorgeous. We all got together and had dinner at a traditional Austrian restaurant, which was lovely, if a little strange, with stuffed animals perched everywhere.

Then it was another nine-hour train ride back to Koln for another night’s stop-over (hoar frost is really beautiful), and a day of sight-seeing in Koln itself… which I strangely forgot to take photos of… and then back home to London. And sadness, because I didn’t want it to end.

I will master turns. I will become a snowboarder. I was in loads of pain from all the falls but I was exhilarated by the speed and the danger, and I had very sore muscles but a feeling of deep satisfaction that I’d stretched myself so far and had actually used my body. And it felt good too - healthy. And the air! It is crystal clear and so clean!

I want to go back, after I’ve healed of course, but I want to go again. That was fun! Suicidal, but fun!

Welcome to Swamp City: Berlin

Strange but true facts: Berlin is actually built on a swamp and so occasionally smells like a sewer. All land is reclaimed land, and they have to be careful about constructing and removing buildings as adding or removing such a lot of weight has an effect on the landscape. The origin of the name Berlin actually means swamp town. Honestly people, why?

Day one was a Saturday this time. Got up bloody early, met Brads at Heathrow and flew to Berlin. Not sure if I'll do that again - catching a flight on Saturday I mean. We didn't get to our hotel until after lunch and it really shortened the day. I am convinced our Taxi driver took advantage of us being tourists and drove us via the scenic route, but that was also ok as we saw more of the city. We got there in the end and that's all that really matters.

It was very cold. Below zero temperatures overnight and quite windy at times during the day. There was a tour company running a free tour in the afternoon that we would have liked to have done, but we were too late and missed it. This was probably a good thing, as we walked to the Brandenburg Gate and only got as far as the Reichstag before I somehow got my second migraine in two weeks, so the afternoon got curtailed (sorry Andrew!). I refused to be completely governed by my head though, so we wandered through the Christmas markets slowly instead, me doing some Christmas shopping while A tasted many different brews trying to find the exact one he had enjoyed previously. He failed entirely but had fun doing it. We crashed quite early as we'd both had long weeks. Grumble...grr... bloody stupid head!

We did however manage to visit a real German restaurant for dinner. It was called Zur Letzen Instanz and has been feeding people since 1621, including Napoleon and Beethoven. The meal was quite incredible actually. We both had lamb shanks with potato dumplings and red cabbage stewed in mulled wine. It was delicious, very spicy, very large, very filling and almost impossible to carve – I mean, the chunk of meat they gave each of us was bigger than two large mugs put together and we didn’t get steak knives, so eating it was an exercise in juice avoidance. But it was heavenly. Highly recommend going there for real German food if you’re ever in Berlin (although booking in advance is a good idea).

Day two, being Sunday, we got ourselves into gear and had a strange but interesting breakfast at the hotel (Stollen..yum!) and managed to make the tour this time. New Berlin Tours run two tours daily at 11 and 1 and even thought it was freezing and we got wet and a little miserable, I'm really glad we did it.

It was fascinating. I can't honestly say I like Berlin, it's too square, too military and too hard for my liking, but it is a really interesting city. The tour started at Pariser Platz, which is where the Brandenberg Gate (Tor in German) is located, and then looked at The Reichstag, whilst our guide gave us volumes of information about everything.

Then we walked to the new Holocaust memorial. That was quite disturbing. It was built on a park in the middle of town (a place with no relation to the holocaust at all) so that it would remain an all-pervasive and unavoidable reminder of what had happened. The stone blocks reminded me of coffins but the artist left it very open to interpretation. He wanted people to think about it, and it does make you think. We walked through it, as is intended, and it is very strange. You can be with many people in there and not see them at all. And the blocks tower above you in the middle.

Next we went past the place where Hitler's Bunker was. There is only a small sign showing what was there, as the government doesn't want it to become a focus of attention. Then we visited the Luftwaffe HQ and the 17 June Memorial where 200 people shot for protesting against the East German government. There is an interesting juxtaposition on the wall of the HQ behind the memorial and the memorial itself which is on the ground. We couldn't really see it, as there is construction work happing, so I didn't get a photo, but there is a mural on the wall of people singing and dancing, being happy little Germans, which was put up a year before the protest and the deaths. So they put a memorial to the protest in front of the mural. Very neat.

Then it was onto The Berlin Wall, the Former SS Headquarters and Checkpoint Charlie. It's almost impossible to conceive that a government would do such a thing to its citizens. No one wanted to remain in East Germany, so they built the wall and stopped them, separating families and stopping workers from going to their jobs.... Very eerie. If you were a soldier on the wall, you got paid more if you shot people. How...? I mean honestly... what? I just don't have the words to describe what I felt, what I am feeling now...

Anyway, after such a course in the most recent history of Berlin, we went back several hundred years. Gendarmenmarkt is a plaza that has two churches (a German and a French one - the German one being slightly larger than the French) and the Konzerthaus in it. Built by the Kaiser (king) of Prussia Frederick William I. After the plague went through Berlin twice, the population was decimated and reached a low of 20,000 people. The French King was ejecting all Protestants (the Huguenots) from his realm, so the Kaiser said they could come and live in his city and boost the economy. He built the French Cathedral so the new emigrants could worship, and then the native Germans complained, so they built a slightly larger German church (aka Dom). The plaza was sporting a posh Christmas market as well - pay 1 Euro to get in!

Then it was onto Bebelplatz and this place disturbed me the most. On May 10, 1933 a massive book burning took place there. 20,000 books were burnt. Only, it wasn't the Nazi's who did it - or rather, not only the Nazi's. It was the professors and students of Humboldt University, which overlooks the square, who voluntarily raided their own library, and extracted all the books that didn't 'conform' to Nazi thinking. They lit the bonfire. They burned the books.

There is a memorial to the book burning in the middle of the square. It's quite simple and hardly noticeable - you probably wouldn't see it if someone didn't point it out to you. There is a glass panel (which you can walk across) which looks down into a deep cavity filled with empty white book-shelves, symbolizing the destruction of knowledge. There's enough space on the shelves to house all 20,000 books that were burnt. There is also a plaque on all four edges of the memorial with a quote from one of the writers whose books were burnt. Written in 1820 by Heinrich Heine, it is an eerily prescient quotation. It reads: 'Das war ein Vorspiel nur, dort wo Man Bücher verbrennt, verbrennt Man am Ende auch Menschen' ('That was merely a prelude. Wherever they burn books, eventually they will burn people too'). The memorial was just so eloquent and such a stark commentary on the war it almost made me cry.

Now a-days, there is a second hand book market in front of Humboldt University every day of the week that the weather isn't too horrible. A lovely reparation I think.

We moved on to Neue Wache - Which is a memorial to the Victims of War and Tyranny. It has a sculpture by a famous local artist, Käthe Kollwitz, who lost her son in the first world war, and then her husband and grandson during WWII. It's a very simple, but also very eloquent statue, of a mother holding her dying child. Buried underneath are the remains of an unknown German soldier and a victim of a concentration camp along with soil from the different battlefields and camps of WWII. The ceiling is open, so that whatever rain or snow affects the city reaches the statue. It suffers along-side the people.

We finished off the tour at Museum Island. Museum Island is literally that; an island where they've put all their museums. Then we went Christmas Market hopping again, and this time, I got to taste some of the brews... very interesting I must admit. I had Apple Punch and Strudel in the Posh Christmas Market, and then JagerTea and some eggy concoction elsewhere... it was all a little strange to my pallet. We also visited the most Amazing Chocolate shop I’ve ever seen. Check it out!

Day three was Monday morning and the last place we visited was the Pergamon. It's one of the most infamous museums in Berlin. They have the entire front half of The Pergamon Alter, one of Turkey's most famous temples, reconstructed inside the museum, and the giant Market Gate of Miletus, a 2nd Centuary AD gate also taken from Turnkey. The Turks want them back, obviously, but they remain in Berlin. It was very interesting, but I think A was a little bored... I tend to go a little ga-ga over ancient things.

Then it was time to go home.

Visiting Berlin really made me think. Unlike every other city I've been to, Berlin is heavy with history. It is so close to the surface, and so all-pervasive that it was almost unsettling to be there. I found it fascinating, but I'm not sure I enjoyed it all that much.

I had just become a teenager when the wall came down. I remember it falling. I remember the cold war and Mikhail Gorbachov and Perestroika and Glasnost. It didn't have much of an impact on me as I had no concept of the implications of such events, but I do remember it happening.

I can remember when East Germany was not a place you could visit, and then when there were two Lonely Planet Guides; one for each half. And then when reunification occurred. But once it was whole again the fact that Germany had ever been two countries sort of slipped from my consciousness. I had no understanding of the ramifications, so it didn't have an impact on me, and I sort of forgot.

Now, it means something to me. And I find that very disturbing. It's good to remember, and to know, and to feel. But it's not comfortable.

Brussels without Sprouts

A quick summation of my Brussels Trip

Took the Eurostar from Waterloo station to Brussels Midi, with Richard and Hillary. Had Champagne on the train for H’s birthday – very sophisticated!

Met up with R the second – H’s bro – in the hotel lobby and then with Warren (friend of R1) and Anne-Claire, Warren’s better half.

Had 18yo Whisky then it was over to an Irish pub nearby, for a smoke-filled Drambuie.

At 2 or 3am ish, home to bed.

Got up too late for b’fast, sharing a room with R1 so that R2 and H could catch up.

Nice hotel, v comfortable beds, luxurious in fact. Supplied goodies included all the usual shower caps, shampoos etc, plus a sewing kit, shoe cleaning gear, comb, toothbrush n paste, facial cleansers, and tissues. But no soap. Huh?
Wandered into town. Met up with W & AC again, saw the Manneken Pis (a fountain of a small boy pissing), the Grote Markt or Grand Place (The cities central square – beautiful!), the female Manneken Pis, and then went to a bar of 2000 beers called The Elephant Delirium café, for a drink. Had an apple beer that was very good.

Went to see the Tintin shop, and bought some Belgium chocolate (yum!).

Made H, R1 & R2 walk all the way to the top of Brussels (it’s very hilly) to see the Palais Royal ‘cause I wanted to see it. It was my one and only attempt at a cultural experience for the weekend. The others didn’t want to see anything else, so we walked back into town.

Went to another bar called Sudden Death (the Belgium version there of). Had a framboise (raspberry) beer. Saw some interesting animatronics wolves on route to Sudden Death that Chris would have gone ga-ga over. (will be in the pictures when I get them loaded)

Went to yet another pub (do you see a theme in all this?) that I think was called Coffins or something. It was a bar with a death theme. There were coffins for tables, all the walls were black, and it was lit only by candles. A good thing too, because it was one of the dirtiest, rankest places I’ve ever been to. I mean, I’ve seen worse toilets, but not in a city. If they ever turned the lights on the patrons would die of shock from the realisation of the filth they had been sitting in. Ich.

Then caught a tram thing and went to a Lebanese restaurant for dinner – had the smorgasbord which was really nice, but was way too much food to eat, and then saw some belly dancing courtesy of the restaurant. Interesting…

Next, went to a pub with a jazz theme just a couple of doors down, for afters. Had a lambic beer (one that ferments spontaneously on exposure to air) of peach, which was really delicious. And then another framboise. Came up with / invented a new pub game when R2 had finished trying to catch 25 coasters flicked from the table all at once. Took one of the coaster holders – which looked like castles – stacked all the coaster on top, balanced on each other (not exactly on top of one another, but balanced between and over each other, getting further and further out from the centre). Then H put the second coaster holder on top of the stack and we played a version of Jengo that was sort of like pick up sticks. You had to pull out a coaster at a time with out letting the top tower fall. Played two games before we got sick of this. R2 didn’t lose either time… which is not to say he actually won, but he just didn’t lose, so claimed victory over H and I.

Walked home. Went to bed.

Got up. Wrote 600 words. R1, R2, H and I left the hotel just at the time we had to check out (12pm). Left bags and went to visit the beer museum, only it was closed. So went to the comic museum instead (very big in this town, comics!) – which was very cool. Bought 3 Tintin omnibuses – which was silly. Met up with W and AC again and then went back to the hotel for a (huge) grand mariner and taxi to the train station, and pretty much walked strait onto the train.

Left Brussels, took Eurostar back to Waterloo.

Only got a couple of chocolates – very disappointed I didn’t have time to get more. Now very tired, but want to go back. Would like to spend less time drinking and more time looking around next time… and of course, purchase more chocolate!

Sweet Paree! Ah How I Love Thee!

It was freezing cold, it was windy, it was overcast, I had a cold and felt pretty miserable the entire time, but I fell in love with this city.

Paris is open. It has wide stretches of grass, huge, grand boulevards, and big stately buildings. It has space that London does not, well, not in my opinion anyway. It seems to be less cluttered, less fiddly, more refined and streamlined and elegant really.

On Friday (after arriving on the Eurostar which was a painless experience), I went to Point Zero, which is where all distances are measured from in Paris, and visited Notre Dame. Now, granted I haven't seen inside Westminster Abbey yet, but ND blew me away. Its front facade isn't any more impressive than many others I’ve seen, but when you get inside, the place is cavernous! It smelt of incense and was hushed and gloomy. Unfortunately, there were many talking tourists about, so not quite the location of contemplation you'd expect, but beautiful in a grungy and well loved sort of way.

As I was determined to take this trip a lot slower than my Amsterdam experience – and as I still had the remnants of the plague – I pottered around taking pictures, and down a side street bought got a Croq Monsieur - why did no one tell me they were so yummy before this? Two pieces of bread - ham between and cheese melted on top and I'd love to know what the cheese was. But it distracted me from the impressive church… how easily I am led! :)

I stumbled onto the flower market, which was beautiful and so peaceful. I always seem to end up in the flower markets of places I visit – they tend to draw me like a loadstone. I just find them so heavenly. Maybe I should try becoming a Gardener later in life…

With a desire to extend my Parisian experience, I stopped off at a cafe for tea (with a cloth tea bag), people watching, and a lemon meringue pie that was an accident of my appalling French...I was trying to order the Lemon Tart!

Next, on the advice of my Lonely Planet guide, I went through the Palais de la Justice (Law Courts) to the Church of Sainte-Chapelle, a small gothic church touted to be incredible. There were two levels to this. Downstairs was a bit of a let down as it seemed very dark, and very commercial, as there was a shop selling medieval paraphernalia, but the ceiling was pretty. Mind you, I LUSTED after the medieval wall hangings they had for sale there. Talk about avarice! If I had had a spare 400 Euro, I’d have bought one of the replica tapestries they had so fast you'd think I was speedy Gonzalez! Upstairs – well, magnificent is the only word I can use to describe it. You climb up a very narrow spiral staircase into another world. It was literally breath taking and everyone came to the top stopped dead in their tracks with gasps of awe and ‘Oh’s of surprise for the amazing stained glass windows. Have a look at the website above - it really is very impressive!

After a suitably decent interval of taking in such magnificence, I moved onto the Conciergerie, which is the remains of a 14th centaury palace. It was cavernous and had the trademark medieval sweeping ceilings and huge fireplaces, so beautiful and ageless but achingly empty. It was used as a prison in the revolution and was where Marie-Antoinette was imprisoned.

From there, I walked to Pont Neuf bridge, which has quite amusing stone heads along it, and gives some lovely views of the Seine.

Then it was onto the Musee du Louvre… wow. It is humongous! I saw the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, the Card-Sharper and lots of Egyptian stuff and then I was stuffed! Someone told me that if you looked at every item in the Louvre for 30 seconds, you’d be there for three months. I can believe it. I have never been in a place as big as that. And yet, I can honestly say that I would go back, time and again, to see more. It was never dull or boring. I wish I had had more energy, or more time, to really assimilate some of the artwork. What ever your passion, whichever century or style, I’m sure you could find it there and then some.

On the way out, I passed under the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel (a mini-version of the other) and then wandered through the Jardin des Tuileries, a lovely and spacious (28 ha) formal garden, to the Place de la Concord, with it’s gorgeous fountains and Egyptian obelisk and then decided that bed was a priority.

The Metro wasn’t as hard to work out as I feared, but it was strange to be in a square train again after the round tube ones. I eventually found my hotel… way out in the sticks. My room this time was tiny, but the single bed was very comfortable, so I didn’t mind a bit.

On Saturday I visited the Eiffel Tower, first winding my way through the Jardins du Trocadero to the Place de Varsovie to take the obligatory picture of the tower and me! J It was really cold though, and I didn’t think standing out in the wind would be good for my health, so I skipped going up. I can do that at a later date.

Another spacious formal garden later, and I found the perfect café to be Parisian in. It was called La TourviIle and reminded me ever so much of Gigi. I sat outside (under heat-lamps) and drank hot chocolate (which wasn’t sweet!) and had some heavenly French food. Yum.

Around the corner was the Musee Rodin, where I saw The Thinker and Hells Gate and had tea in the café. I was taking it easy ok? … Honestly, it was the most tranquil museum I’ve been to – mostly outdoors, with a lot of Rodin’s artwork situated in the formal gardens. The hotel in which he used to live and work is part of the museum and is quite lovely in its own right.

From there, I waked to the Musee d’Orsay: Monet, Renoir, Manet, Whistler, Van Gogh and Klimt… wow. They allow you to take photos if you didn’t use a flash, and I took so many photos it really isn’t funny. I seem to have become an art lover without any intention of doing so what so ever. If you'd asked me if I liked going to art galleries this time last year, I'd have given you a resounding 'NO' although I've been to a few in Australia. Now... well, I'm a convert. I freely admit that paintings can be truly beautiful and that the craft involved is truly awe inspiring. Maybe I just grew up or something. Horrible thought! But I can appreciate the artistry now. And I was yet again overwhelmed by the incredible paintings.

Then I walked over the Seine and up through the Jardin des Tuileries (where I finally recognised that the trees I’d been walking past were chestnut trees!), over the Place de la Concord and up the Champs Elysees. The CE is far wider than it looks in pictures. Yet more gardens line the bottom half but the top is dedicated to high-end stores. In that respect it’s very like Oxford Street only wider. And there were many, many more people on the CE. It was exhausting just fighting my way through them. At the top is the Arc de Triomphe. I had intended to climb it but got interrupted; a parade of civil protection officers (like our SES or so I assume) blocked off the road and the swarms of curious tourists were treated to a marching band and flag ceremony. I eventually got to the Arc and climbed the enumerable steps to the top – my calves were not happy and my feet were decidedly belligerent by the time I got ther. But it was worth it for the lovely, if hazy, views of Paris.

I had dinner on the Champs at the Café George V and watched the world go by, then back to the hotel for some more recuperative sleeping.

On Sunday I visited the Museum de Moyen Age at the Hotel Cluny. That was wonderful. I love medieval stuff, so I was in 7th heaven. It’s a museum housed in the remains of Gallo-Roman baths dating back to AD 200 and includes the 15th century Hotel de Cluny which has some gorgeous gargoyles!! The Lady and the Unicorn Tapestries are also kept there, and they are truly amazing. They’re a collection of six Flemish tapestries, dating from 15th Century, which represent each of the five senses with a 6th wrap-up scene. Wow.

Anyway, I decided to spend my remaining time wandering around Montmartre and to pay a visit to Sacre Coeur. The ‘Best of…’ Lonely Planet guides have these lovely directed walks in them, so I did their recommended route and saw some interesting things along the way. These included Van Gogh's house, a beautiful vineyard and bohemian pub, a courtyard of portrait artists (which I annoyingly neglected to get a photo of)...and some hazy views of Paris.

It was a lovely trip, and I’m not going to talk about the return journey because Eurostar failed to live up to expectations, but it didn’t spoil Paris for me, and I will definitely be going back, and as often as I can. It is a wonderful city… and I had a lot of fun trying out my French too!!

The photos will be following later as I took rather a lot of them and It’s going to take me a while to sort out. C’est la vie!

Amsterdam

It was fun. Exhausting, but fun.

My modes of transportation were impressive - or rather, the sheer number I had to take to get to and from home to my hotel and thence to Amsterdam return was impressive. All up, I travelled on 10 trains, 4 busses, 2 planes, 1 tram, 1 taxi and a partridge in a pear tree... not that you can travel in a pear tree... but you may be able to travel on the partridge! And the one mode I didn't take that I wish I had as it would have really saved my feet: Bicycle. Will be hiring one next time for damn sure! I don't think I spent more time travelling than I did actually in Amsterdam, but I could be wrong - it was definitely a close run thing!

Arriving Friday night after a full day's work, all I wanted to do was crash (3 trains, 1 plane, 1 taxi). And I got a lovely surprise when I got to the hotel. Both the hotel and my room were MaHOOsive!!! The hotel was out in the sticks which accounted for me being able to afford such luxury, but still... I wasn't expecting such a cavernous suite I can tell you!

Anyway, on Saturday I went into Amsterdam (3 busses, 2 trains), arriving in Amsterdam Centraal Station and proceeded to kill my feet by hiking to the De Gooyer Windmill. It probably wasn't that far, but it sure didn't feel like a stroll. En route I passed NEMO - the science and tech museum, which looks like a giant sinking ship, complete with a three-master out front; The Nederlands Scheepvaartmuseum (the maritime museum), which is closed until 2009 (D'oh); the start of a boat race, the participants of which I continued to see all day speeding along the canals; some amazing spider webs from which I stayed a healthy distance away; and literally thousands of bicycles - they're everywhere - something like 600,000 of them are owned in the country and there seemed to be more bicycles than people!! Anyway, the windmill wasn't actually in motion when I arrived so I got a coffee and recovered from the walk. An hour later it still wasn't going, so I decided to head back into town. I managed to see it starting to spin out of the rear window of the bus I finally caught back to Centraal... damn.

Speaking of dams, Dam Square is the main square in the centre of Amsterdam. It's situated where the first dam of the Amstel river was created from which the city takes it's name... I think. Anyway, the National Monument is there and the Koinklijk Paleis, a royal residence, along with, very bizarrely, a full-blown fair out front. I got a two-foot high pink and yellow stick of fairy floss so I was happy.

Next was a wonder through the winding streets of the city, over many canals and through interesting little side alleys, where I found the Bloemenmarkt (lovely street of flower shops selling tons of tulip bulbs), the Delft shop (scary being in there actually - I was very aware of not touching anything), amazing displays of alcohol (would you like your whisky in a deer, or horse-shaped bottle or perhaps a motorbike?), and quite a few ‘Australia’ shops selling Australian chocolate (I didn't know we had especially good chocolate back home...?!?). I passed, and was too scared to go into, the Amsterdam Diamond Centre. I think you need to be made of money to go into that place which I am obviously not. Diamonds are apparently one of the Netherlands bigger industries. And also went past one of the original gates to the city. I think I circled around the main areas at least three times. My feet felt very ill-used but the place is so fascinating it warranted several passes.

Amsterdam has a very bohemian side and is very liberal. There are 'Coffee houses' selling hash everywhere, and the Red-Light district, which is prostitute territory, is a major tourist attraction for everyone including families with young children. There really are red lights on the houses and many scantily clad ladies posing in purposefully designed windows down one particular street. It was interesting. There was also a Sex Museum, a Marijuana Museum and an Exotic Museum along with so many sex shops I lost count. Pretty much like Fyshwick only classy. And right in the middle of it, a beautiful Church - Oude Kirk - which is dedicated to St Nicholas, the patron saint of sailors and prostitutes appropriately! I went into the Sex museum, which was a good chortle, but also educational in the way that sex has been viewed through time. They have some very interesting displays there.

Sunday (5 trains, 2 busses, 1 tram, 1 plane) I went back into Amsterdam for a few hours and thence home... but I did manage to get some cultural experiences in before departing. I walked from Centraal to the Oud Zuid and a stretch of ground they call the Museumplein for good reason. It’s this vast grassed area with a fantastic collection of museums and cultural icons on the edges.

The first I visited was the Rijksmuseum. This is Amsterdam’s answer to the Louvre. The building itself is very impressive. Unfortunately it's undergoing renovations, so only it’s ‘Masters’ were on show. Funnily enough, that wasn't really a handy cap. The best of the museum all agglomerated in one location so I didn't have to go hiking for miles to find them? I call that fortuitous! And they really were amazing. Rembrant... wow! Such illumination - his paintings literally GLOW! Paintings don’t often inspire me, but I was in total awe at these - I really wish I'd had time to go to Rembranthuis where he painted - next time. The Night Watch, his most famous painting there, was incredible - and so big. I've seen it on the TV in art shows before, but seeing it up close was a totally different experience. Exhilarating really.

Then I popped just next door to the Van Gogh museum. A much more modern building housing 200 odd of his paintings and 800 plus sketches on four floors. It was amazing to see so many of his works in one place and there was such variety! I love his flower paintings best. His variations on sunflowers - apparently he did 5 of them with variously blue and yellow backgrounds - and his orchids are just so vibrant and energetic. They really appealed to me.

In the same area is the Concertgebow (a concert hall famous the world over). I wish I could have gone to a performance. I've heard so many classical concerts recorded from there. However, it was closed, so I just got pictures of the outside.

Then I decided my feet needed yet further torture and headed over to Vondle Park, ostensibly for a relaxing afternoon of contemplation, but really I just sat on the bank of one of the lakes and aired my blisters.

Then it was on to Vondle Kirk for a quick look (a church - which I saw one side of) before heading back to Amsterdam Centraal and back the Airport to go home.
I was so tired I couldn't sleep - over stimulated I think. I will try to take it a little easier the next time I go OS. I pushed myself a little too hard trying to see everything at once. I think I’m coming down with a cold too. I just keep forgetting that I can go back and visit again. I don't have to do everything all at once. Too energetic, that's me. Huh!

Amsterdam...later

I am so very tired after this weekend. I enjoyed going to Amsterdam, but right now I want to go to bed and I have the rest of the day to get through yet. Will write about Am later I think…

A random day at Brighton

Now, I’ve been meaning to go down to Brighton – to get out of London at least – for the last month or so. Every weekend I’ve said I’d go, and then something else would come up or I was sick or otherwise incapacitated. So this weekend I, yet again, decided to go. But this time I made it.

As Marty was going to be staying with me over the weekend, when I saw him on Thursday I asked: ‘Would you like to come to Brighton with me on Saturday?’ and he said ‘Why not!’ So I invited Andrew along, as he too kept saying he’d like to go, and he said ‘Why not!’ and so we successfully managed to meet at the gate to platform 5 at Victoria station at approximately 1030 on Saturday morning and buy our tickets and get on the train…. But that was actually as far as our planning went.

I had only a vague idea of what you could do at Brighton. There was the Royal Pavilion and the Brighton Pier that I knew of, but beyond that I had no clue. And it turned out that Saturday was Martin’s Birthday (oops... I knew that. Honest. Well, most years I remember, but I’ve been kinda busy lately!), so there was a little added pressure to make sure that the day wasn’t a total loss, and consequently it was with a feeling of mild trepidation that I exited the train at the Brighton Station. I needn’t have worried. It was a lovely day, a little random due to the general air of vagueness that surrounded all of us, but we managed to fill in the time somehow.

It was lovely weather. Warm enough to ware shorts actually and I ended up getting a tan line from my watch. We walked down to the sea and along the beach…which is not a beach as I know it. There is no sand, only pebbles, and they crunch as you walk along. I went for a short paddle in the channel, but that was all I could handle – the stones hurt your feet!! The water wasn’t too warm either.

Then we walked along Brighton Pier for Time the First. It is amazingly tacky. Its a permanent mini-show grounds with roller coasters and dodgem cars and side-show alley games that win you teddy bears and fairy floss and toffee apple… only this is an adult version, so you can gable in the arcades and there is a pub on site. It is tacky heaped on kitsch with more than a dash of cringe.

We had fish and chips on the pier for lunch which was good, and we promised ourselves to come back for Donuts for Martin and Fairy Floss for Andrew but I couldn’t be bothered waiting so I bought 4 sticks of Brighton Rock… to share! Honest!!
So off we wandered; we no idea where we were going, but discovered a lovely fountain on the way there.

Then we found the Royal Pavilion which is a party residence established by the Prince Regent back in the 1800s I think. I was amazed at the architecture. It’s Indian on the outside but very influenced by China on the inside. We weren’t allowed to take pictures, and there were people standing around everywhere to make sure you didn’t, but boy I wish I could have. Spectacular doesn’t do it justice. It was amazingly decadent, and sumptuous, and awe-inspiring – especially the banquet hall and the music room. There were dragons everywhere. It was luxurious, extravagant, opulent, and over the top. The splendour is completely underrepresented by the photos available on the web. It really has to be seen to be believed. The dragon holding up the chandelier – well the damn thing is five or six feet long, and the detail... I really am lost for words.

So, onwards and outwards to a cafe in The Lanes to refuel – and a crème brule that was a little hard on my nerves – it came in a ceramic bowl which put my teeth on edge every time I scraped my spoon across it. But the English Breakfast tea with lemon and honey was very nice.

Then we went back to the pier for Time the Second. This time, Andrew and I went on one of the rides – just to say we’d gone on a tacky ride really – called the Turbo something. It was a rollercoaster and it went very fast, and upside down and sideways… and it took less time from start to finish than it took for me to write this sentence. And then we had a couple of drinks at Horatio’s bar on the Pier, because it was a pub on a pier, and because it was Martins birthday. And Andrew finally got his fairy floss but Martin declined his donuts… then it was getting cold so we moved on.

So then we went to a bar called the Sussex (because this was the name of the Gang Show after-rehearsal bar for the entire time I was there) for a drink and some dinner – but they’d stopped serving food. So we went to another bar and they’d stopped serving food too, and onto a third and three strikes and we’re out. So we went to an Italian pizza place. Nice pizza but Martin had the smallest glass of Guinness I’ve ever seen. He wasn’t very impressed.

After than, we went back to the pier for Time the Third to take night photos.

By then it was getting quite cold so we started the trek home, stopping by yet another bar for a drink on their upstairs outdoor balcony – amazing how these things sprang up just after the ban on smoking.

By which time we were totally exhausted but surprisingly not inebriated so took the next train home.