So we escaped Atlanta on Friday afternoon and left on our way to Orlando. Since then, the last few days in the US were a bit of a blur. A lot was seen in a relatively short period of time:

We visited Savannah and explored the town – tourism there seems to be a big thing, with trolley buses, tour buses and (from what I’ve established, it must be obligatory) ghost tours. The ghost tours were on refurbished hearses with the roof raised…and troupe seating. Made it look more like a safari through the streets and cemeteries than a regular tour. Would have loved to have gone, if only to ride around in the hearse-safari-mobile. Tourists everywhere.

The town itself was very pretty, with historical buildings, cemeteries and cobbled paths along the riverside. Plenty of entertainers on every corner singing for their supper. However, Savannah also seems to host a large number of homeless living in the area, and while exploring we spotted a shanty town of sorts near the highway. It was pretty weird to see. There was almost a tent city located in the small forest where the entry ramp met the highway. I’ve never seen a homeless encampment like that, and certainly nothing so close to a major town. Bizarre.

…We checked out the marshy wetlands (surprisingly, not stinky), complete with going on an alligator spotting mission in a nature reserve. Saw more than 40 alligators on a very slow drive through the park. Some were babies/juveniles, some were definitely adults. Neither seemed interested in us. You could get out and walk/hike the reserve at any time. So with the disinterested alligators, I guess that’s a good thing. Over the weekend apparently they were holding a turkey shoot to reduce numbers in the park (with participation aimed at school age children!), so I was expecting to see a turkey or two.. But no. Maybe they knew the school kids were coming to get them and vamoosed.

 We also visited Brunswick and St Simons on our way down the coast and enjoyed some ridiculously delicious pastries and seafood (and local beer from Jacksonville, since apparently Florida sucks at craft beer). Our first look at the beach on the Florida coastline left a lot to be desired. They have got nothing on our beaches. Nothing. At. All.

 Disney World was quite the experience. So many (many, many) people. Apparently, to do Disney properly you should visit for upwards of a week. I can’t imagine spending a week in a theme park… And we certainly didn’t budget for a week (A week? Wowee kiss your wallet goodbye). We elected to visit just the Magic Kingdom, and only for one day. As it was, this part of Disney apparently pulls around 18 million people a year, meaning I was sharing my day with close to 50,000 other people. I can’t say that seemed inaccurate. The place was packed (and yet had enough space to be yet more packed…). We wandered around, did a few rides, watched a bit of the parades and other entertainment (..ate a giant turkey leg..) and at about 5pm gave up due to being wiped out (and being heartily sick of waiting 1hr in line for rides). We made our way to Disney Downtown, and enjoyed some of the entertainment on offer there before eventually making our way home. I had a great time.

 …What did I learn from my trip? Disney is certainly an epic destination. And more than one day is definitely advisable, if only so you can bail and have a nap before braving the crowds some more. The place is open to 1am!! If only I could have been bothered making it back in there from Disney Downtown, I’m sure some of the rides would have been more accessible (and kids hopefully in bed).

Our last day in the US was spent at a natural spring in Florida, where Murray went for a run and I explored the wetland trails. The place was beautiful, and I couldn’t help feeling more than a little jealous of the Floridians that get to enjoy these beautiful natural resources – there are over 1000 natural springs in Florida. Although, there are also alligators, and a baby alligator was definitely hanging out at the spring (and another on the path where Murray went running). Alligators aside, I still wanted to go swimming, but could not bring myself to dealing with wet clothes, wet hair etc and then flying. Murray did. I was jealous. I selected the “get eaten by midges” option instead (which at the time I was stoked as they were not itchy, but it later made me look like I had measles, and then became ridiculously itchy while on our flight to Paris).

We flew out of Orlando from the smallest international airport I have ever seen.

We flew in from Orlando, FL to Iceland as our stopover on the way to Paris. This first flight was uneventful, although it was a bit of an experience: flying in a tiny jet from a tiny airport from a summery destination to one that was decidedly frozen. Murray and I were wearing thongs. …Murray was also wearing board shorts… As you do, in -5C conditions. Thank goodness for central heating.

The second flight was a short, 3 hour affair, landing us in yet another tiny airport. …Where we discovered a distinct lack of customs. I can’t help but feel a bit like an invader, having not gone through any official process of entering the country (our entering process involved getting off the plane, getting our bags and then walking out the exit…). I guess our formal entry must have been in Iceland. There, the official in the booth next to us looked like he was on the warpath (he was a cranky-faced passport stamping machine) who ploughed through his line at least twice as fast as ours. Our official stamped our passports and waved us through. Pretty sure our complete communication consisted of a) hello & b) goodbye.

First impressions of Europe? I had no idea that there was so much countryside between towns (or that the towns would be so small and compact). We exited the airport (north of Paris) to find ourselves somewhere distinctly rural, on tiny roads leading us through tiny towns with tiny ancient-looking houses that look like they would be a historical attraction at home or in the US. Here, it’s just someone’s house.

The traffic lights and road signs are strange (the give way signs here are especially stupid), and Murray is not yet totally proficient at the driving on the right with the added joy of driving stick with the wrong hand. But so far, we have had no accidents. Huzzah (and fingers crossed for good measure).

Our first two days were spent in Le Meux, France. We did a little sightseeing in Compiegne and Pierrefonds, checking out the local Chateaux and other historical buildings. It’s like you can’t turn around without seeing something else with more history than I’m used to experiencing. We even went to a museum in Compiegne (not because we weren’t getting enough history, more because it was freezing and wet outside and we needed a break from being frozen).

 …I have already consumed a fair portion of my body weight in cheese. There is so much cheese and smallgoods at the supermarket, I don’t know what to do with myself. There are literally aisles upon aisles of cured meats and cheeses – it’s like going to Woolworths to find that all of the cold cases have now been relegated to just cheese and cured meats, and for good measure the fresh fruit and vegetable section were also converted. Makes for a difficult time deciding what cheese to try.

Our accommodation in Le Meux was very comfortable and convenient for a little bit of local exploration just out of Paris, however, it was also a smoking household. I never even considered investigating something like that when choosing somewhere to stay (it certainly wasn’t advertised one way or the other). Although, many people still smoke in France, so maybe I should have expected it. Currently, everything I own smells like smoke. It’s a pervasive smell that I had almost forgotten, being so spoiled in almost smoke-free Australia. Last time I smelled like this was as a uni student after a big night out prior to cigarettes being banned in nightclubs and eating establishments. I do not smell delicious (and I suspect I can kind of taste it). Yuck.

After our two days in France (we will be back there later), we headed off to Belgium:

We stayed in a hotel outside of Oudenaarde (in Belgium) for the Easter long weekend in order to catch some of the Tour De Flanders. For those who don’t follow any cycling: The Tour De Flanders is the Tour you may have seen for a minute on TV (between changing stations perhaps) where the cyclists ride the iconic cobblestone roads that feature prominently in the area. It’s nuts just to drive on, let alone ride a bike on. Apparently your arms (and then other appendages) go numb from being bounced around so much. It does not look in the least bit comfortable, and it can be slippery and muddy and generally hazardous to ride the cobbles. However, despite all that, this cobblestone thing is very popular. Murray was keen but somewhat dubious about riding it.

The weather over the weekend was cold and a bit miserable, much like the last couple of days in France. Murray fully intended to ride the Sportiv held on the Saturday, alongside some 16,000 other cyclists (at least 9000 of which were Brits, apparently). However, the weather on Saturday was horrible, and he abandoned ship early (returning home mostly frozen, seriously filthy & soaking wet). Over the weekend he still managed to get a ride in on the Friday, the ill-fated Sportiv on the Saturday, and another ride on the Sunday before we left to watch the Tour. Fortunately, on Sunday the weather was beautiful: Sunny, clear skies and much warmer (didn’t even need a jacket all the time). Dr Mark and Rianne made for excellent weekend riding companions (plus impromptu Dutch translators & great company in general). While they rode, I got in some blissful time in solitude. No regrets.