August. Goodbye Summer, Hello England.

The UK:

So, getting from Paris to London… That was probably our first really painful airport-related experience on our trip thus far. Pretty lucky, in the grand scheme of things that it didn’t turn out worse. We discovered when we arrived at Charles De Gaulle airport that our plane was delayed by at least an hour, but expected to be possibly hours (and we were also early, huzzah). Apparently there was a fire in the Rome airport, preventing our flight from leaving there and coming to Paris. As a result, British Airways needed to send another from England, and also needed to staff it with virtually no notice. However, they managed to sort things out quite admirably, and got things underway about an hour later than originally intended. After possibly the longest time spent taxiing on the runway in history, we were off.

We got to London in no time. I expect the pilot was really hoofing it. But when we got there we were treated to an unexpectedly slow line getting through immigration. It took us well over an hour to get through the line. Mostly because there were next to no staff and hundreds of people waiting in line. Our line had 4 staff, then 3…then 2…then only 1. (While the line continued to get bigger.) The line for those with european passports was about four times longer (although they did have more staff). I’m counting us lucky that we got through in the time that we did. At least no one in the line really lost it at any of the staff. Or the staff at the people waiting in line. A couple in front of us had two young children who had passed out in their arms. I can’t imagine waiting in a line for that long toting an unconscious child.

Nath met us at the airport to help us get into London after our flight. Very considerate. Even more so, considering we were in immigration for what seemed like forever. By the time we got the train from the airport, the Tube was already shut for the evening (yes, we were that late), so it turns out that it was very handy having Nath around. Before we left we tried to find Paddington bear, but he wasn’t where we expected him to be. Sad face. No Paddington bear for me. We ended up getting a black cab to Nath’s. How good are black cabs?! We managed to fit all three of us and our tonne of luggage in (although, only just). An impressive feat. Way more practical than the traditional sedan design of cabs at home.

London:

We stayed with Nath and Rach in Notting Hill for several days and explored a bit of London. What a fabulous location to live. Right in the middle of everything. Tube or bus is very convenient, but walking is still totally an option. Imagine that… Being able to walk absolutely anywhere worth going in the London area (if you were so inclined). I have to admit to being at least a little bit jealous. Especially of the beautiful parks. They even have squirrels. They aren’t even super neurotic squirrels (like in Atlanta). You could probably even pick one up and it wouldn’t object (much). One was even curious enough to inspect Nath’s hand for non-existent food. I was very surprised. I had come to the conclusion that super neurotic was the only kind of squirrel in existence. Seems, that is totally not the case. I could have wandered around the many parks for forever. Large enough to feel like being out in the country, and designed to look natural enough that you could believe it.

Hi there, Squirrel! I almost never manage to get a picture of you in focus!

Hi there, Squirrel! I almost never manage to get a picture of you in focus!

Peter Pan.

Peter Pan.

Big Ben.

Big Ben.

Kensington Gardens

Kensington Gardens

Looks distinctly...not English.

Prince Albert Memorial. Looks distinctly…not English.

Unsurprisingly, Murray took the opportunity and assembled his bike to go riding around London with Nath. Saw all the sights in one fell swoop. It’s too bad I don’t ride, since riding a bike is a great way to see a lot in not much time. Although I expect it is probably a bit difficult to take photos at the same time. We did a bit of sightseeing on foot as well, visiting all the usual spots one is expected to see. We were really lucky, in that the weather was warm and it was nice and sunny for most of our London visit (although, still considerably colder than France at times). It was possibly busier than usual, since there was a cycling event on in town; every man, woman and child were on their bikes and busy choking up the streets on their pushies. Road closures galore. Even still, London is certainly a beautiful city with a whole lot of history. Much more multicultural than expected as well. Walking around the Notting Hill area we noticed that it was quite easy to walk for blocks without hearing anyone speaking in english. Very odd.

Most boring job ever?

Most boring job ever? Both man and horse – well practised in the art of sitting/standing perfectly still.

Once our time in London was up, we were off to Winchester as our home for the month. Mostly because living in London was (as expected) rapidly burning a hole in the proverbial wallet. So, it was time to collect our hire car and be off for the countryside. As it happened, the whole car hire experience was no bueno. We walked to the car depot to find that the computer systems were down, so the hire place drove us to another depot. This depot was packed to the rafters. Many, many angsty people waiting in line for cars which, as it turns out, were nonexistent (or at least, existing, but not in the location they were expected to be). Poor people had booked automatic cars and there had been some sort of booking fail. Many more people wanting autos than cars available, resulting in a queue where things had more or less ground to a halt. We eventually got our car (mostly because it was manual) and made it out of London, after burning most of the morning. Many others, did not.

On the way to Winchester, Murray took us for a drive through Richmond Park. He had already visited with Nath and cycled his way around it and deemed it worth taking me to see it (mostly because the park is inundated with deer). True enough, it certainly was inundated with deer. Most definitely more deer than I’ve ever seen in one place at one time. Herds of them, everywhere. Even unconcernedly cropping grass right on the roadside. I could have quite easily prodded one from my car window. Deer. Utterly. Everywhere. Loved it! Wonderful to see.

A very small portion of the deer seen at Richmond.

A very (very) small portion of the deer seen at Richmond.

I could poke it from my window if I so chose.

I expect I could poke this one from my window if I so chose.

Winchester:

This month we stayed in Winchester, a town South-West of London. A small flat in a house on Sleeper’s Hill. Somehow, I’d managed to select an abode parked on the top of a hill. Again. Nice flat. Quiet. Cosy. Not too far to walk to the nearest pub, or right into the middle of town (more pubs). Came equipped with the occasional squirrel, deer and a local stray kitty (Toby, who btw, looks a lot like Ninja, and would break into the flat uninvited should a window be left open).

Hill was a bit unfriendly to walk up, but such is life. You’d think I’d have put together by now that “views” also equate to “on a hill”.

We had chosen Winchester so we could explore the numerous AONB (areas of outstanding natural beauty) littering the countryside. It was close-ish to London, but driveable to Cornwall, the Cotswolds, Devon and a bunch of other areas that sounded like they were worth a visit. Winchester itself turned out to be a very pretty area. Full of beautiful tree lined streets, green arbor lanes and lovely old buildings. So pretty. Plus blackberries and apples and plums growing everywhere. It was initially hard to believe anywhere can be so green. Became less hard to believe once we experienced how much rain falls on a regular basis. Unfortunately, our arrival in Winchester more or less heralded the end of sunny days and warm temperatures. Goodbye summer, hello rain.

 

Hi Toby! Little furry home invader...

Hi Toby! Little furry home invader…

Mmm. Blackberries.

Mmm. Blackberries.

Super mini apples.

Super mini apples.

Places we visited:

The Cotswolds:

We went for a road trip to the Cotswolds. It had to be done. Definitely one of the places I most wanted to see while in the UK, mostly because the villages look quintessentially ye olde english to me. And cute. Cute in a way that small towns in Australia will never be. Mostly because a) Australia isn’t green, at least not green like England and b) thatch is several thousand times more attractive than corrugated iron as roofing of choice and c) our housing could never be described as reminiscent of confectionary.  So, we drove out to the Cotswolds to check it out. We didn’t really know where we were going or what to do while we were there. Turns out the Cotswolds are quite a large area to explore. However, the country roads are in great shape and the views over the farmland are much like a proverbial patchwork quilt. Very colourful and precisely apportioned into neat little packages. And yes, it’s confirmed. The villages are seriously cute. There are seriously a plethora of little villages all in varying degrees of cute dotted all over the Cotswolds. It’s hard to believe people live in some of them; they look like gingerbread houses with fairy floss gardens. We stopped at several of the more well documented ones, and marvelled at a bunch more while driving by/through them. In between, the view from the hills were frequently spectacular (in a very bucolic sort of way). We also visited a bunch of barrows (since they are apparently everywhere). They were less exciting, although we did get to climb all the way into one. That was pretty cool. Our trip out for the day was totally worth the drive.

Out at Arlington Lane, the Cotswolds.

Out at Arlington Lane, the Cotswolds. Cute much?

Broadway Tower. Built because Lady Coventry wanted to know if she could see a beacon on this hill from her house. Right...

Broadway Tower. Built because Lady Coventry wanted to know if she could see a beacon on this hill from her house. Right…

Pretty fields. Situation normal.

Pretty fields. Situation normal.

Inside a barrow. Because, why not?

Inside a barrow. Because, why not?

Fort Nelson:

England seems to be crawling with museums. Especially the military variety. Makes sense given the history of the English.

So, being in an English speaking country and all… We decided maybe it was worthwhile visiting a museum. Or possibly even more than one. At any rate, we went and visited Fort Nelson. It’s a museum commemorating the Royal Armouries national collection of artillery. Needless to say, there were a lot of things that go “boom”. Specifically of the big gun variety. Having never been to a museum of this sort, I thought it might be interesting. Also thought it might be terrible, since a lot of the information for the museum was clearly intended for children. Turned out to be pretty cool. Never, ever seen so many cannons, tanks and various explosive etc. in one place. To top it off, exploring the actual Fort (guns aside) was also very interesting. There were also quite a lot of children there. They had a whole obstacle course set up, but only for children. Which is sad, as I would have enjoyed having a crack at it. Fort Nelson made for a great day out. Even better, considering that entry was free.

We were totally set to visit a hovercraft museum as well. Because, hey, hovercrafts. However, the place was closed for renovations. Very sad. Wanted to at least ride the hovercraft over the Isle of Wight, but somehow we ran out of time. One day…One day, we will hovercraft our way somewhere.

In the tunnels at Fort Nelson.

In the tunnels at Fort Nelson.

Who's a cute mortar?

Who’s a cute mortar?

Not necessarily well lit.

Not all tunnels were necessarily well lit.

I believe this is a Howitzer.

I believe this Railway Howitzer to be an utterly ridiculous piece of weaponry. It’s huuuuge.

New Forest AONB:

Came down here a few times, since it wasn’t too far of a stretch to visit from Winchester without eating an entire day. Even managed a day trip with Nath & Rach and Wendy & Steve. New Forest, like several other AONB areas have plenty of wildlife running wild and free. As in, horses, cows, sheep & donkeys. No fences. I guess they aren’t really wild, but they are certainly allowed to run free. (Absolutely everywhere, inclusive of through towns and on the roads. The  few fences we saw were to keep animals out, not in. Most peculiar.) We visited New Forest to see the wild ponies – cute little guys, although they proved rather elusive – and managed to see plenty of horses and donkeys and their foals. It’s a refreshingly different take on what I consider to be a similar (but more inclusive) idea to our National Parks in Australia. Since the land is more or less dead flat, there are no hiking trails. You more or less enter the land and then have at it. Wander where you will. Bring your dog if you like. Try not to hit the animals with your car. There are even towns inside the “park” area.

The ponies of New Forest.

The ponies of New Forest.

Followed these donkeys from out of town, into town, and back out again.

Followed these donkeys from out of town, into town, and back out again.

Really enjoyed the New Forest AONB. Not that it was even a whole lot of forest, as plenty is made up of flat plains and small towns.  More like occasional small patches of forest (Google maps shows it as all green forest – Google lies). Still, great spot for a wander or a drive and enjoy the scenery.

Anyways, that’s it for this post…

Paris Road Trip!

Road trip to Paris:

With our time in the south of France over already, it was time to make our way to Paris for the flight to London. We opted to drive to Paris instead of flying, since this would give us the chance to see a bit more of the countryside (as I’m pretty sure it was not the more economical option). We started off by driving through Nimes and then through the Parc Nationnel de Cevenne to see some of the sights we had seen while watching the Tour de France. Beautiful. The Gorges du Tarn were spectacular, and we passed plenty of small towns almost too pretty to be real, surely. Kind of wish we had allocated more time for the drive, since at 3 days it was still not enough to be off exploring some of the sights and towns we passed along the way. We also didn’t make any plans for a hotel (opted to wing it), so we stopped at one such town for the night – St Enimie. We hadn’t intended to stop, but the river looked too good to not at least stop and have a swim.
Nimes. It's got an ancient amphitheatre.

Nimes. It’s got an ancient amphitheatre.

Nice countryside.

Nice countryside.

St Enimie was a great stopping point, and it was pretty cheap as well. Score. Food was also fabulous (which is good, since there was only two places to eat in the town).
Cute little village in the Gorges du Tarn

Cute little village in the Gorges du Tarn

St Enimie

St Enimie. Cute, yes?

Definitely a good spot for a bit of a swim.

Definitely a good spot for a bit of a swim. There’s even a couple of waterfalls.

On the drive we also stopped in at Oradour-sur-Glane to visit the deserted town and pay respects to the people massacred there by the Nazi Waffen-SS company in 1944. Basically everyone was burned to death (in the order of 600+ people – men, women and children). Horrible. The town was preserved & now is a memorial site. I’m glad we live in Australia.
Oradour sur Glane.

Oradour sur Glane.

Oradour-sur-Glane.

Oradour-sur-Glane.

For our second night we stayed in Loches, after having driven past many towns and not seeing anywhere we wanted to stop (scenery much less interesting this leg). Also a winner. The accommodation was none too flash, but it was cheap and somewhere to sleep (and the scenery here made up for the bland room). Apparently Loches is one of the best maintained examples of medieval architecture remaining in France. We were a bit late in arriving to see the Donjon castle, but there was still plenty of light to the enjoy walking around the town.
The Abbey

The Abbey

Abbey at Loches

more of the Abbey at Loches

View from the hotel.

View from near the hotel.

Loches. Apparently one of the best kept medieval towns. I'd have to agree.

Loches. Apparently one of the best kept medieval towns. I’d have to agree.

On the last leg of our drive, we visited the Chateau de Chenonceau and explored the grounds for a while. Very pretty. Yet another castle/chateau/whatever you want to call it. There are sooo many of them. Never thought I’d get sick of it, but I think a bit of the shine has worn off. They are still certainly fabulous to look at, but the pressing need to thoroughly investigate every single one of them is definitely on the wane. Having said that, we also stopped in at the Chateau de Chambord (but only for a quick picture) and were on our way. It was truly epic, but there are logistically only so many castles you can see (and so much money you can burn on visiting castle after castle). However, we read about it after. Truly an epic castle. However, built for the purposes of being a hunting lodge (for a hunting party of 2000), it is both impractical and utterly ridiculous (who takes 2000 people hunting???). Took many years to build and then it was too hard to heat, too far from food and too far from all other resources that everything needed to be trucked in every visit (seriously everything, including drapes and cutlery). It was only used by the builder for less than a combined total of 7 weeks (and then they died). Ridiculous.
Chateau de Chenonceau

Chateau de Chenonceau. They just kept making it bigger and bigger, until it went all the way to the other side of the river.

Fancy gardens. Of course.

Fancy gardens. Of course.

The grounds at Chateau de Chenonceau

The grounds at Chateau de Chenonceau

Chateau de Chambord

Chateau de Chambord. The photo fails to portray just how huge it is.

Paris:

Paris. Well, we have flown into and out of here previously but never actually checked out the city while we were here. So this time around we decided we would make an effort to have a bit of a look around.  Since we have been AirBnb’ing our way around the world thus far, I figured we would do the same in Paris. Besides, hotels were epically expensive (more so than usual) and didn’t have any parking. We managed to find our accommodation ok. It was on the 6th floor and no lift. That was exotic. Fortunately we could leave most of our gear in the car rather than haul it up the stairs.
We arrived relatively late, so we pretty much just dropped our stuff off and walked to the Eiffel Tower (There. Done it.)…and home again via a creperie (and a craft beer stand) for dinner. The number of street vendors and people running games of chance we saw on the walk through the Champ de Mars was nuts (specifically cups…many, many games of cups). It was also pretty weird seeing stacks of street vendors (all black, for some reason), all selling exactly the same cheap chinese made crap (selfie sticks and various sized Eiffel Towers or a bucket of assorted booze).
Yep. There it is.

Yep. There it is. Plus,  1 in 5 people in this photo are probably street vendors.

More interesting when lit up.

More interesting when lit up.

Sunday we went to see the end of the Tour de France. We met up with Nath, Steve and Wendy and waited it out through the women’s criterion and right through until the end of the Tour. The weather was pretty awful. Windy and rainy and cold. And all of us had made a fashion fail in some respect. Wendy: sandals. Nathan: shorts, thongs and no jumper. Me and Murray: no raincoats. Murray ended up going on his own adventure by city bike back to our apartment to rectify our error at least. Took a long time, given his original estimate of half an hour. Many fails (and hours) later, Murray eventually rejoined us just in time to catch 2/3 of the men’s circuit. At least it wasn’t raining anymore by then.
Hanging out at the 1km mark.

Hanging out at the 1km mark.

While we were in Paris we also tried to visit the Catacombs and failed. Waited for over an hour and a half only to be told that we might not make it to the front of the line anyway (before last entry more than 2 hours away). Who’d have thought it would be so popular? We had already budgeted waiting in line for 3 hours (which is already ridiculous, but is apparently the normal wait) and to wait longer and then still not get in anyway seemed a bit of a giant fail. So we bailed. Ended up visiting La Fine Mousse for some quality craft beer and some tapas for dinner. Caught a cabaret show and called it a day.
Murray went on a ride through Paris with DC Rainmaker (aka Ray) and got to see most of the sights. He even rode around the Arc de Triomphe around the crazy roundabout…and returned home in once piece.
For our last day in Paris, we made a last touristic stop before our flight to London: We went to visit Versailles. Mixed feelings about that. Hated the palace. The crowds…the crowds. Good grief, the crowds. There’s nothing like being pushed along by a human wall from room to room. I’m sure it would have been a wonderful experience if there weren’t so many people, but there were, so it wasn’t. The rest of the palace grounds were much better. The Grand & Petit Trianon were much more comfortable to visit than the palace. Hardly any people there. Also very much enjoyed Mary Antoinette’s hamlet. (There were bunnies!) Also got a truckload of exercise for the day. The grounds were huge! Seriously upset my already blistered heels, but it was worth it. Think I might need new shoes, though.
Next stop: London, UK.
The palace gardens

The palace gardens

Back at the Hamlet

Back at the Hamlet

We’re in France! The South of France, that is.

 

Well. July. Another month. Another location. This time: France.

After an uneventful flight from Croatia (totally loved Croatia, so sad we had to leave), we arrived in Marseilles, France. Cuing start of the usual arrival routine. Arrived at yet another podunk terminal, which looked considerably worse for wear. (Seems to be a common theme when flying with the cheaper airlines. They’ve gotta save money somewhere, I guess.) Well. Having managed the part of arriving successfully, it was time for collecting our bags and the hire car. Bags no problem. Car… Not so flash. Yeah, we started out with a bit of difficulty with our car hire. As usual, we had booked using an online service. However, said booking was MIA when we went to collect the car. It appears that for all intents and purposes, that The Internet Ate It…And there were almost no other cars available…And certainly none for the same time period we wished to book for. (I expect at this point some sort of reference to Murphy’s Law is warranted.) Anyway, after Murray doing the rounds for what felt like hours trying to score a car (and me baking in the sun with our bags) we ended up getting a van of sorts just for the day (at an epic premium) just so we could get our gear to our new home and get ourselves sorted out. What a pain in the ass. At least the rental staff were helpful. Welcome to France, yes?

(Luckily, Murray was later able to sort out a car for us over the weekend, with the aid of cycling to and from the airport to drop off the van and collect us a new car. Having a bike has actually come in handy. Yay!)

Entry routine complete.

Home for the month:

Our place is lovely, although in a rather unlikely location. Having looked at tonnes of Airbnb accommodation, I’d eventually decided on a tiny gite in a small town. Mostly because the accommodation was rather unusual and somewhere that we would otherwise never have the opportunity to stay. (Or the funds… A place like this would be ridiculously expensive at home.)

So our little gite is in Chateauneuf-Les-Martigues: a small agricultural town near to Marseilles. As such, there are farms everywhere,…growing wheat, olives, figs, stone fruit and all manner of lettuce varietals. It’s also dry as. All the cars (and pretty much any other surface you care to name) are solidly coated in a layer of dust. The trees are a) sparse and b) twisted little pines of some sort. There’s hardly a normal tree to be seen. It’s like they (the trees) aspire to grow strong and tall and at some point things just go south (and east and west, just not north.. And by that I mean any direction but up). It’s not quite what I had in mind when I was thinking of staying in the south of France. Not really sure what I was thinking, but my experiences with other areas in France are certainly nothing like here. Certainly not this…dusty. However, it is certainly beautiful. Just not quite in the way I’d imagined.

Our gite (holiday accommodation where the owner resides on the same premises) has been lovingly crafted by hand by our host Stephan. It is made of raw materials and features large tree trunks as structural support and locally grown hay as insulation. The roof tiles look hand cast and were also locally made. Everything is rather rustic and the fragrance of the wood when we first arrived was almost overpowering. Thank goodness it settled down. The bathroom is amazing, with panoramic views of the nearby olive and jujube orchards and the local bird sanctuary. The accommodation was certainly a great find. Although I’m not sure of it, I’m fairly certain that our host is constructing what will eventually be a bnb lodge – he is hard at work every day building a house in the same style as the gite. If it turns out anything like where we stayed it will be epic. If anyone feels the need to see more of our gite, check it out here: A Pincu 
Fancy bathroom.

Fancy bathroom. Nice view of the jujube orchard.

Since we are close to a large wetland area (ie. the bird sanctuary), I guess it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but, it turns out our little gite comes with frogs (one lives in the bathroom)…And a family of tiny bats that live in the wall next door. They (the bats) are ridiculously cute. And all small as a pinky finger. They chitter endlessly and poke their little heads out to sticky beak every now and then. At night they pinwheel around in the darkening sky outside nearby and swoop down to snatch bugs that approach our brightly lit gite. They are quite the entertainment. This is not to say that our resident frog is not also entertaining. He (she?) lives on the ledge of the window in the bathroom during the day. It’s always fun to try to spot the frog when it is out and about during the evening. Sometimes there are other frogs that pay us a visit as well. There has been an unanticipated amount of frog removal required. Thank goodness I like frogs.
Twilight from the gite.

Twilight from the gite.

The beach. Not bad.

One of the local beaches. Not bad.

One of the neighbourhood bat family.

One of the neighbourhood bat family.

The sunsets here are pretty good.

The sunsets here are pretty good.

Our frog. Not sure why we didn't name him. Should have.

Our frog. Not sure why we didn’t name him. Should have.

What we have been up to:

We have had a rather quiet time here in France, with Murray making the most of the opportunity to catch up on work after being in Croatia. Also, being Le Tour De France season, it also meant some quality tv-time watching the live feed & english commentary (thanks Internet – never thought about it, but having english commentary really makes it).

Our host Stephan was pretty fab. Everywhere we have been, our hosts have been friendly and often furnished our stay with little extras like complementary beverages or milk & eggs etc as a welcome. Our host this time around kindly invited us to dinner with his friends and family one evening, so we got the chance to eat some authentic french home made food (including home roasted tomatoes, escargot cassoulet and some wonderful desserts made with chocolate, figs and fresh peppercorns). He also gave us a carton of figs, since he grows them for a living. A whole carton.
Seriously. I can't eat an entire carton of fresh figs. Compote time.

Seriously. I can’t eat an entire carton of fresh figs. It’s compote time.

Stephan also invited us to the local fete & we had a great time eating local food and playing petanque with his friends. They each brought their own set (plus sets for us), complete with measuring tape (which they totally used). Somehow, I get the feeling that the French take the game of petanque very seriously. We played for hours. It was much more fun than I anticipated. In fact, the whole fete-thing was more fun than anticipated. There were long rows of tables and everyone sat together like a giant family gathering, while the kids cut up the rug on the dance floor. We ate local mussels and sardines and some sort of fish dumpling stew and drank wine. The evening was all quite festive and certainly not like any I’ve attended at home…Think we got home at midnight.

During our stay we have visited a few places of interest – Aix-En-Provence, Avignon (where the papacy moved for a brief while), Les Baux (a historical village), Luberon and the surrounds (home of lavender and sunflower fields), Mt Ventoux (and the small village of Bedoin) & the calanques at Cassis. We would have visited more, but that would require a teleport.
Le Baux

Le Baux

Le Baux

Le Baux

The lavender fields.

Some of the lavender fields.

Avignon. Not quite as fancy as I'd imagined. However, plenty fancy enough.

Avignon. Not quite as fancy as I’d imagined. However, plenty fancy enough.

Murray did the famous ride up Mount Ventoux, while I explored the town below (as it took hours to do the ride). While reading about the area, I discovered that Bedoin apparently features a nudist camping ground. Unusual. Who camps in the nude? Sounds rather uncomfortable.
Mount Ventoux. The place is bald as on top.

Mount Ventoux. The place is bald as on top. Rather challenging ride, apparently.

We also went for a road trip to explore the coastline from here to Nice (via Frejus, Cannes, Antibes etc – if it was on the coast road we visited it). As we discovered Monaco was not all the much further, we ended up going there also, and then continuing on right up until the French-Italian border. Never realised where Monaco was. Or that it was so tiny (it’s something like 2 square km). Bit of a joke really. But quite lovely nonetheless. Murray got his opportunity to drive the iconic road/underpass known from the Monaco Grand Prix. (Although it may be a little underwhelming driving at 50km/hr in a 3 door compact Renault Twingo. Lol.)
Monaco. Here just to drive the Grand Prix route.

Monaco. Here just to drive the Grand Prix route. And it appears it was 47..not 50. My bad.

On the drive, I was expecting to see some seriously fabulous beaches. The beaches were ok, but on the whole far from amazing. Some of the coastline was gorgeous, but the amazing part is the clear blue water. Not everywhere, but in enough places to make me exceedingly jealous. It’s also pretty weird seeing beaches with no surf. There were more beach umbrellas, inflatable pool toys and snorkel gear than you can poke a stick at.

I’ve also never seen so many boobs. Clearly, Europeans have a different idea of modesty.
This bit of the coast was pretty good, although pretty inaccessible.

This bit of the coast was pretty good, although pretty inaccessible from a “let’s go for a swim’ point of view.

The weather:

The south of France is hot. Perpetually hot. While we have been here, the sun has done a solid job of shining all day, every day. It’s strange, uncomfortable and wonderful all at once. It’s also solidly in the territory of 30+ weather almost all the time. After being in Ireland it feels a bit freakish.

I had hoped that we might do some hiking while we were here, but the terrain and conditions more or less make that a bit of a no. It’s just too damn hot. The only place we have found that it’s consistently great to be is in the sea. So we have been to the beach almost every day. I don’t think I have been to the beach this frequently in my entire life. I have to say, it’s pretty fabulous. The water is crystal clear and a lovely shade of blue. So clear that as Murray pointed out – he can see his toe hairs from the surface. And this has been more or less the case all the time (at least where we are staying). The water temperature (unlike the ambient temperature) has been rather changeable, with some days being quite (read: very) cold (wouldn’t surprise me if it is 22 degrees) and other days when it is like getting into a tepid bath. Either way, it has been a bit of a life saver, as we have no air-conditioning in our place, and the summer heat is rather uncomfortable from about 2-7pm. So we stick it out (literally, stuck to the leather couch) and watch the Tour De France every day and then go to the beach. Fabulous. And then have to contend with the heat again when we return… I didn’t think the heat would annoy me all that much, since our weather is worse, but… (being the indoor plant that I am these days) I have become unused to what the outdoors (and lack of air-conditioning) really means. It means being distinctly uncomfortable.

Our beach at Sausette Le Pins. It's a great little spot.

Our beach at Sausette Le Pins. It’s a great little spot.

Another lovely spot for a swim near Marseilles

Another lovely spot near Marseilles. It’s actually a national park. We wanted to go for a hike, but it was like a thousand degrees.

Our beach at Sausette Le Pins

Beach at Cassis. Not many umbrellas here.

And that’s it for now. I have prattled on enough for one post, I think.

On Sailing in Croatia (and Croatia in general):

On the good yacht Sipnata:

As I may have mentioned, we recently visited Croatia and went on a sailing trip with our friends Nathan & Rachel.  Sailing from Dubrovnik to Split with the tour group ‘Medsailors’, we spent a wonderful week on a 46 ft Bavaria yacht called Sipnata. We were even fortunate enough to score the largest cabin, making our stay even more comfortable than anticipated. Lucky us.

So. Having never been sailing before, it turns out I’m quite a fan. Could have something to do with the whole being on a boat, lazing in the sun, going swimming all the time etc. Although, I’ll readily admit to initially being spooked at the prospect of getting on/off the boat via a plank. Found that more than a bit daunting, given my distinct lack of skills in the balance department. But I made it to the end of the week without ever falling in, so that was a definite plus. Looking back, I’d certainly recommend it as a fine way to spend a week (or plenty more if you have the funds). I would be super keen to do it again and I’m sure Murray is probably now scheming as to how he may one day own a yacht. Or one of the mega yachts that we have passed on the way. Seen some seriously Fancy yachts. Yes, fancy with a capital “F”, they are that opulent and grand. I can only imagine how much money they must represent.

We sailed from Dubrovnik with our itinerary being there to Sipan to Mljet to Korcula to Vela Luka to Palmezana to Sesula to Split. Basically, we hopped from island to island and slowly made our way up the coast until we finally arrived at Trogir (not Split… it’s like at least 1/2 an hour away.. why not just say Dubrovnik to Trogir?…).

Sipan:

The Medsailors sailing trips more or less gives you the opportunity to explore at each location (and a little bit in-between). Our skipper Tina gave us the option to either get up late and go directly from destination to destination or start early and get to see more. We elected to see more. So at our first stop we were left to our own devices before being scheduled to eat dinner together. Some went directly to explore the local bar, but we went for a much larger than anticipated bush walk instead. This took us through Sipan’s scrubby forests via some rather poorly maintained stretches of path (more like nature-reclaimed dirt road) past vineyards, olive groves, various ruins and finally through the village. By which time we had a few well deserved drinks at said local bar and ate a fine dinner at a restaurant there also. The restaurant was coated in a climbing zucchini vine (which in turn was thoroughly coated in yellow zucchini), which was quite quaint. I was mostly jealous, since my experience with growing zucchini involves mystery plant disease and a distinct lack of zucchinis.

As it was the first night, we tried to be social and meet some of the others from the yachts after dinner at the bar. We had been thoroughly warned by the skipper that being a small fishing village, that we were to be quiet by 10pm, and silent by 12am. However, I don’t think the local bar got the memo, as things became progressively louder the later it got. Not that we were being noisy – it was the bar staff that continually upped the volume on the music…To encourage people to dance on the empty dance floor, perhaps?

Sipan. A tiny fishing village, consisting of 2 bars and a restaurant. Plus locals playing petanque rather violently.

Sipan. A tiny fishing village, consisting of 2 bars and a restaurant. Plus locals playing petanque rather violently.

Super nice spots for a bit of swimming. Can't tell you where, we don't know.

Super nice spots for a bit of swimming. Can’t tell you where, as we don’t know.

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Beautiful bay, and almost to ourselves.

Sipan Ninja kitty.

Sipan Ninja kitty. Less Ninja than ours, since this one is missing part of an ear.

One our unanticipated bush walk.

One our unanticipated bush walk at Sipan. Shoes would have been prudent.

Mljet:

On the day we went to Mljet, we left early and stopped at a spot on the island of Jakljan for a bit of a swim and a bit of exploration. The bay featured a resort that had been abandoned, although at the time we did not know why. There was even a plaque erected in recent years to commemorate the site. We later did a bit of digging on the internet and found that it was due to finding a mass grave from WWII. Apparently over 100 POW’s were executed and buried in a shallow mass grave there at the end of the war. It was a rather sobering find.

…We sailed to Mljet, to explore the national park there. I had wanted to go kayaking there, as there are two large lakes on the island (offering kayaking). However, our skipper informed us that the national park would be too difficult to get around on foot, and strongly recommended hiring bikes instead. As you might guess, I was somewhat less than enthused. For anyone not already aware of my extreme sporting incompetence, bike riding is not my thing, either. In fact, even now I can still count on one hand the number of times I have ridden a bike as an adult. Me on a bike? It isn’t pretty. Nevertheless, I let Murray convince me to have a crack at it. There were no helmets. Hmm. Safety first. So we rode uphill (Murray rode, I rode/pushed/sweated profusely) out to the lakes (impressive – one cold, one warm – flowing from one into the other) and went for a bit of a dip, rode around some more and visited a cave (not so impressive). Didn’t try the kayaking, as the place was blowing a gale and threatening rain. When we went for a swim we also assisted an old couple trying to extricate themselves from the lake. That was hilarious. i.e. They were hilarious. Good on them for going swimming despite knowing they probably couldn’t get out without assistance. Then we rode home. Or more accurately, I got on and off repeatedly for a bit and pushed the bike uphill (much like I did on the way out to the lake) while swearing somewhat copiously. As there was uphill, there was also downhill. Not sure if that was better or worse than uphill. I can happily admit I rode both the front and back brakes the entire way down the hill for fear of death or dismemberment. Neither of which occurred, thankfully. I’m still not positive if I was having fun or not. I think I was mostly mortified. Having said that, there’s the odd possibility I might be convinced to do it again. If there are no hills.

We had a swim in the marina off the boats and ate dinner at the restaurant where our boats were docked. (Part of the deal – we get to dock in a great spot, if we eat at their restaurant. No complaints there. Once again, great seafood.)

Mljet

Mljet

Riding the channel from the  big lake to little lake.

Riding the channel from the big lake to little lake.

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Relaxing. Swimming in water much deeper than I ever thought I’d be ok with. Turns out, if I can see the bottom, I’m ok with it. And sometimes even when I can’t. Go figure.

Korcula Island: Korcula town and Vela Luca:

We spent two days here – at different points (Korcula and Vela Luca) on the island. Enjoyed gelato while walking around in the summer heat. Went swimming, drank cocktails from the top of a tower, ate dinner on the promenade. Was particularly obvious here that there are Australians utterly everywhere holidaying in Croatia. It’s like you can’t take two steps without hearing that endearing Aussie twang. Plenty of yachts flying the Aussie flag, as well. Had no idea it was such a popular destination, given how far away it is from Australia.

As I mentioned above, we went for a drink at Massimo’s – a cocktail bar in a tower (complete with crenellations). That was nuts. You had to climb a ladder to the very top, and the drinks were hauled up from the bar to the roof via a pulley system. There was very little in the way of safety measures. The rampart even featured large holes which, if you sat on the rampart, I expect you could easily fall through if you were not taking care (with a fall to the bottom of the tower being your reward, if you would be so unlucky). Still, it was pretty cool. Also, ridiculously busy. Plenty of Busabout people visiting that day (one of the giant get on-get off sleeper ferry boats).

Streets in Korkula

Streets in Korcula..So cute. But so many stairs.

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From the top of the bell tower.

Tower in the centre - Massimo's

Tower in the centre – Massimo’s Cocktail Bar

Our second night in Korcula was spent at Vela Luca, at the other end of the island.  We didn’t have a spot to moor here, so we anchored up at a buoy and our skipper Tina rowed us to shore. That was interesting. More so on the way back, when the the water level was lower. Bit tricky to get into the itty bitty dinghy. While at Vela Luca, we ate some excellent (and ridiculously cheap) pizza, had a small cocktail party with the Medsailors crew, and walked down to a nice spot for a few more cocktails by the water. We also had a storm. That was exotic. High winds, and the yacht doing 360’s around the buoy made for an interesting night. Bit noisy with the yacht continuously collecting the buoy and some epic thunder/lightning. Fortunately, no damage to the boat, even though all the boats were in rather tight quarters in the marina.

Palmezana/Hvar:

We also stayed at Palmezana (sounds like Parmigana..makes me hungry every time), and used this marina as our home base to explore the party island of Hvar. This required a water taxi, but apparently staying at Palmezana was the quieter & more comfortable alternative to staying at the much busier marina in Hvar. The island was coated in cacti, all in full bloom. It made for a very different feel, as there have been no cacti at all anywhere else we have been. We later heard from an AirBnb host that one woman had planted cacti there, and it later took over the island. I’ll believe that. Clearly more of an upmarket hangout, Palmezana boasted several fine dining establishments and pretty areas to swim. It would have been nice to have had more time to explore this island, but alas, no dice. Instead, after a quick dip & shower we headed over to Hvar, where we had some seriously glorious cocktails and a delicious fish dinner (again, can’t get enough of  it). It was WINDY AS. Rach and I ended up with blankets during dinner, since the terrace seating was rather windswept. Even found a nice spot for some live music. The singer was uber relaxed, and seemed hellbent on reproducing as accurately as possible various covers. To the point that we couldn’t decide if it was meant as satire or sincerity. Either way, it was enjoyable. We did make an effort to check out Kiva (a bar that had been recommended as a popular hangout), but this was less than appealing (partygoers from Medsailors and Yacht Week spilling out onto the streets as the bar was packed to the rafters). The wind continued to be ridiculous. Uncomfortably ridiculous.

So we moseyed home. We caught a different water taxi home (despite being warned that we must take the same one back again). The water taxi we caught accepted our return tickets, and as there were no other taxis there to take us home there wasn’t exactly any choice. I spent most of the journey wondering whether they were taking us to our intended destination (as the trip took much longer), however Murray was able to confirm (using GPS) that we were indeed headed in the correct direction. We made it home in one piece. Thank goodness.

 

Nice spot for a swim.

Nice spot for a swim in Palmezana. Cold water, though.

Mmmm. Cocktails. Not crappy ones, either.

Mmmm. Cocktails at Hvar. Not crappy ones, either.

Hvar

Hvar

Cute balconies in Hvar

Cute balconies in Hvar

Hear streets.

Hvar streets. Cute. But oh, the steps.

Mr Bumblebee in the cactus bloom

Mr Bumblebee in the cactus bloom at Palmezana

Sesula:

Our last stop. No proper docking this time. We racked the yachts together into a giant flotilla and anchored up together. Sipnata was a bit resistant to this, and it took an exceptionally long time to get the anchor right. It didn’t help that we also caught another yacht’s anchor and had to extract ourselves from that as well. As we were last (always first to leave, last to arrive), we were afforded the joy of climbing over all the boats to get to the dock (and back again). I scored an epic bruise from this, clambering over the boats in the dark, but that was to be expected. At least no one fell in.

We had a buffet dinner with all of the yachts (both the Dubrovnik-Split crew and the Split-Split group) and had a bit of a wander about town. Ate some obligatory gelato. Marvelled at some of the ridiculously grandiose yachts. Wandered home.

The flotilla. Minus Sipnata, since we were having anchor related problems.

The Medsailors flotilla. Minus Sipnata, since we were having anchor related problems.

Anchor up.. anchor down.. anchor up... Frustrating times trying to add Sipnata to the Medsailors flotilla (And then we hooked another boat's anchor line. Yay.)

Anchor up.. anchor down.. anchor up… Frustrating times trying to add Sipnata to the Medsailors flotilla (And then we hooked another boat’s anchor line. Yay.)

Happy Murray wants a boat.

Happy Murray wants a boat.

Had an absolutely brilliant time, and I’m sad it is over. Now I have an unusual tan line to fix, and in need of some serious hair treatment. Very much enjoyed the trip, with the stops to have a swim in secluded bays, opportunities to explore deserted towns (even if they have a sad history) and the newfound skill of being able to assist with sailing a yacht.

Split:

We had a couple of days here with Nath & Rach before they headed home to London. We explored the locale on the Friday night, and had a fantastic dinner at an olive oil bar/restaurant that our host had recommended. The food was delicious and it was interesting wandering through the cobbled streets in the late afternoon sun. Also headed up to Marjan park to enjoy the view of the city. Very nice. However, there isn’t so much to see in the Old City. So, the following day we hired a car and went to Krka National Park.

Split Old City

Split Old City

Walls of the Diocletian's Palace

Walls of the Diocletian’s Palace

Kitty in front of the palace. Very intently looking at...something.

Kitty in front of the palace. Very intently looking at…something.

Krka National Park:

We visited. In my opinion, it sucked. I shouldn’t really say that. It was beautiful. Just not so impressive after already having visited Plitvice. Similar to the Plitvice NP, Krka is a conglomeration of lakes, with many beautiful waterfalls. However, it is definitely second fiddle to Plitvice (or some considerably lower order fiddle in the orchestra of life). Unlike Plitvice, the water levels were considerably lower, meaning some areas clearly normally underwater were dry and dusty. The falls themselves were not as impressive and the water distinctly less clear. The boardwalks were in poor condition in places. It also cost substantially more. There was both an entry fee and a tour boat that we caught to see an island monastery and Roski Slap (another waterfall at the other end of the lakes). We made a mistake in going on the boat tour, as it was expensive and not all that worthwhile (didn’t realise we could have driven there instead). Meant we had less time to enjoy the venue, as the boat ride was quite long (and mostly uninteresting). Probably ended up costing us about $50 p/p. However, it was still a beautiful place to visit.

We went home via Primosten, a beautiful town we had passed previously on our drive to Zadar. Glad we did. Very beautiful. Seems to be a trend in Croatia.

Roski Slap. It took a long time to get here. Substantially less awesome than expected.

First impression of Roski Slap. It took a long time to get here. Substantially less awesome than expected.

Roski Slap

Roski Slap

More Roski Slap

More Roski Slap

Definitely beautiful, just should have driven here instead.

Roski Slap. Definitely beautiful, just should have driven here instead.

Krka Falls

Krka Falls

At Krka

Krka river

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Bottom of Krka Falls, here you could go swimming. Would have liked to, but we ran out of time.

Trogir:

Trogir had looked particularly nice, so we went to spend the day there before Nath & Rach flew out (since it was both close to the airport and to the marina where the rest of our luggage was stashed). It’s a small town and definitely geared for tourists. We wandered through the markets (the fresh fruit and smoked meats looked amazing..would have loved to have run off with a dry cured ham leg) and took the opportunity to get one last fish plate in for our Croatia trip. This one was interesting in that the squid were not cleaned (nor the mussels) prior to cooking. That was a bit disappointing. Either way, still delicious.

Looked good enough to use this picture twice.

Looked good enough to use this picture twice.

Zadar:

We dropped off Nath & Rach at the airport, collected the rest of our luggage from the marina, and headed back up the coast to Zadar. We spent the last 5 days of our Croatia trip visiting the beach here every day (if it is all stone.. is it really still a beach?) and enjoying the quiet life. Our apartment was great, and when our internet wasn’t working properly, our host even came by with ice-cream for us to say sorry for the inconvenience. Definitely had a wonderful stay. Especially good, since it was close enough to walk to the beach. We even made friends with a little kitten one night. We walked past it on the way home and it decided to follow us. (All the way home!) I was sorely tempted to try to keep it, it was so cute.

Made an effort to stake out a local bbq joint before we left. We had been eyeing off the bbq huts the whole trip – they are everywhere (but not, it seems, in the city). Little brick bbq joints on the roadside, advertising suckling pig or lamb on the spit via dodgy signs or by direct evidence (seen more than a few piggies slowly trundling around on their rotisserie). Having seen so many, we didn’t want to leave Croatia and not try it at least. However, none of the restaurants we had been to seemed to serve bbq… Seems to be a more basic dining option, like grabbing a kebab (not really proper restaurant material). So basic we couldn’t even find any joints by searching on TripAdvisor. Their advice was to drive around or visit the industrial park and you’d be bound to find one. Fair advice. So we got in the car and drove. Lo and behold, we ended up passing a few as soon as we got out of town. Were just in time to see one place take their pig off the spit to be carved. Perfect timing. Turned out to be quite delicious, although it didn’t seem to be spiced or prepared in any special manner. Simple food. With crackling. Pigs are definitely the best ever when it comes to meat.

Shopping in Croatia:

We mostly cooked at home while in Zadar, as we were hankering for normal food (or more accurately, not restaurant food). Croatian supermarkets are a bit weird. There is hardly any fresh meat. Only a small amount is prepackaged (e.g. chicken, turkey and about a million plain chevaps), and the rest is cut to order from the butcher part of the deli. (And even then, there was not a lot… And appeared to be cut with very little finesse.) I didn’t know how to order meat from the butcher, so we ended up eating whatever could be purchased in the pre-packs (fish, chicken, chevaps and something I thought was beef short ribs… but wasn’t).

There isn’t any sandwich bread. Just fresh bread or bread intended for toast. (Looks like a sandwich loaf, but I don’t think at any point in its life actually resembled the consistency of fresh sandwich bread. Comes various brands but only in one style: Stale.)

…I have to say that I’m very impressed with how they manage their fresh veggies and fruit (the sort you would weigh before purchase). Here, you type in the number allocated to that item of produce and weigh your product and it spits out a label with the price. (Unlike Belgium where you had to know what it was called or find it in a long menu, which usually resulted in at least 3 incorrect stickers before succeeding.) Made it very easy for us non-Croatians.

There was also a surprisingly large range of Irish craft beer. Even better range than I’d seen in some places in Ireland. Having said that, Murray still managed to scope out a bottle shop and a bar specialising in craft beer. With a good range of Belgian beer. Nice. It’s interesting to note that so far, the prices in Europe (and the US) are very reasonable (unlike Australia, where if you buy an import or a single you get to pay $$$).

Leaving Croatia:

Sad to say, our trip to Croatia did not seem to last nearly long enough. This is definitely a place I would be happy to visit again. Three weeks is not enough weeks. I’ve been very impressed with the friendly people, the food, the environment,… Everything. I’d like to think that we will go back sometime. Hopefully sooner than later.

Our exodus from Croatia was almost uneventful:

– Once arriving at the airport we realised we had forgotten to refuel the hire car and basically had to drive all the way back into town to get petrol. That could have been bad, but we were early enough to spare the time. Thank goodness.

– While we waited to check our luggage, a french visitor in line offered everyone figs to eat. He must have brought like, 2kg, of figs. I can officially say, I have never (previously) been offered food at the airport. Fairly sure it will probably never happen again. We politely declined. However, many did not, and after, there was a sticky mess left on the airport floor, courtesy of some exceptionally juicy & ripe figs. Wonder if he successfully offloaded his fig hoard…

– I also got the most thorough of pat-downs by a female security guard. I guess the zipper on my clothes (or maybe my watch) set off the alarm, so I was awarded the dubious pleasure of a pat-down. This has happened before, but certainly never with such vigour and thoroughness. She even snapped my bra-strap (not sure what I could have possibly been hiding under that). Odd.

– Went to use up the last of our Kuna in the duty free section, only to find all the prices quoted only in Euro. That was weird. Especially since they did accept both currencies. Would have thought it would make more sense to quote in Kuna… Nevertheless, I managed to spend our remaining money right down to maybe <0.50 Kuna. Gold. It was tough, but I did it. Better than essentially wasting it. (Although it did mean we ended up with a seriously gigantic bag of Haribo gummy sweets, since that seems to be the only size of lollies they sell in duty free.)

Aside from the usual dance of trying to fit everyone’s cabin baggage into the overhead lockers and having insufficient space, our flight was uneventful.

Next up: France.

Croatia here we come…

Goodbye Ireland, hello Croatia!

So, we flew into Zadar airport (which is seriously tiny, and quite cute, by the way) and set off on our first adventure: Finding our accommodation for the night in Zadar town & checking in. I’d like to point out now, that sometimes our map software really sucks (even though we have 3 apps for this). Seems like more and more of a common occurrence to find that the gps has snapped us to the wrong road, or is trying to take us to somewhere other than the requested destination. Or routing and rerouting again (and again) like a dog chasing its tail. (When we haven’t actually deviated off the directed path at any point.) But I’d still rather have it, as no map is definitely worse. At any rate, we got to our accommodation eventually. Some thanks to the map software, and no thanks to the local tourism desk. (Turns out the accommodation was like, almost directly across the street from the tourism office.) Checked in. Our studio apartment was nothing special, but it was comfortable enough & bizarrely, right across the road from some sort of tiny carnival (complete with chair swing and dodgem cars).

Next stop: Dropping our baggage at the marina near Split, as we can’t take all our gear on the sailing trip planned for later in the week. So, time for an hour or so road trip driving down the coast via the motorway, with the windows down and ACDC on the radio (everywhere seems to love a bit of ACDC). Quite a nice drive, and I can’t say enough how nice it is to drive with the windows down after a month of it being too cold or wet to do so. It’s hot. And dry. The ground and the grasses look toasted and baked to a crisp. Very much a contrast to lush, green Ireland. Fig trees everywhere. The ground looks rocky (understatement). Kind of looks like a greener version of Nevada.

Made it to the marina in Trogir just before closing time (4pm), which given the time constraints, was really quite lucky (only had just enough time to drop off some gear in Zadar and then head to the marina). However, we did stop on the way to squeeze in getting new SIM cards from a local newsstand and get some data for our trip. Very good value, too. Seems Australia is totally overcharging on the data front. Jerks. Same with France. Double jerks. And I’m ridiculously impressed with the ease of setting up the service with the new SIM cards. Go Croatia! They really have this situation under control (you can print off instructions in Croatian to help the staff get what you want). The lady at the newsstand even asked us if we needed any help setting up the SIMs. Aww.

So, having succeeded in getting our excess stuff to the marina left luggage holding area, time to return to Zadar. (We chose to stay in Zadar so that the drive out to Plitvice Lakes National Park might be slightly less onerous). This time, we drove via the coast road. On our way back from Trogir we passed many beautiful towns with their red tiled roofs and lovely coastline. Seems like there is a monopoly on the tiles used, as everywhere is exactly the same. The coast is all ridiculously picturesque. Everywhere we pass makes me want to stop and get out for a swim. Crystal clear, blue water on one side; fig trees, olive groves and vineyards on the other. Also passed a tortoise casually taking a stroll on the sidewalk. Fair enough.

Random side note: One thing I have noticed: there appear to be a disturbingly high number of unfinished buildings. Like, everywhere. Completed houses here all seem to be rendered, but, it seems like during the build, many people elect to move in somewhere around the 75% done mark and leave it at that. As a result, much of the housing has a peculiarly half-assed look about it. Exposed red bricks or concreted walls, half finished balconies etc. It’s very strange.

For our first night in Croatia, we went into the Old City in Zadar for a walk and some dinner. There doesn’t seem to be whole lot happening in Zadar, tourism-wise. Of course, there is the Old City, and you can explore the cobbled streets and markets or enjoy a drink and something to eat at the many cafes and seaside restaurants. The main things to see are the Sea Organ installed on the steps leading into the water, and Greeting to the Sun, both of which are art installations by the same architect. The Sea Organ was pretty cool. Sounds like pipes or wind chimes playing whenever the swell pushes water through the organ, forcing air out through a variety of openings in the steps. The random tunes it produces is quite haunting.

Our host recommended a place to eat in the Old City, and so we ate our first grilled fish plate here. It was great. I think it may have begun my love affair with seafood prepared simply with no embellishment (other than a lug of olive oil). Can’t say just how impressed I am with a dish that required so little preparation. Healthy, delicious, and surprisingly inexpensive. Going to have to give this a crack myself.

Our first night: We fell asleep to the comforting (?) tunes of some sort of techno playing at the completely empty carnival.

Plitvice Lakes:

Plitvice Lakes NP.

Plitvice Lakes NP.

I was of the opinion that if we were visiting Croatia, there was no way in heck we were going to miss out of on visiting Plitvice Lakes. Having never, ever, thought about going to Croatia until sometime late last year, I was totally ignorant about the beautiful scenery there is to enjoy in their national parks and on their coastlines. After doing a google image search for places to visit in Croatia and finding Plitvice lakes, it was a no brainer that we would have to go there.

So what was it actually like? I was not disappointed. In fact, very much the opposite. We turned up shortly after the gates opened (7.15am arrival, I believe), in an effort to beat the hordes of tourists that we were promised would descend upon the lakes like a bunch of locusts. I have a suspicion that we were the second vehicle to arrive. Keen much? The entry cost us about $25 AUD each, which, having never paid to go to a national park before seemed a bit rich (other than paying for parking – which we also had the pleasure of doing at the lakes). However, I’d say it was money well spent.

We spent the day hiking around the lakes and wandering around the boardwalk paths which criss cross the lake systems. And, because we were there so early, most of the time we were there all by ourselves. I think we got to see almost all of the upper lakes system before the first bus load of tourists arrived. Thank goodness, because after the buses started dropping their human cargo things got busy in a hurry. We also chose to go walking around the outskirts of the lake (which was more or less just a scenic hike), but it was a much better option than trying to deal with the masses catching the electric boats across the lake. Ended up having to eventually deal with the crowds at the lower lakes, and this, as expected, was pretty painful. But I’m sure it was much better than it could have been, still being early in the season. The scenery was magical, and the water was an amazing shade of blue that demanded swimming in. Unfortunately, this was not allowed. All in all, we ended up having a pretty fabulous day. Hiked for about 5 hours or so, and saw a whole lot of amazing scenery (and a dead mouse, and a legless lizard/possibly a snake). The best part was the boardwalks – half the time the waterfalls are cascading around you (and under you), spraying mist into the air, while bright blue dragonflies cruise around in hot pursuit of each other. Fish, everywhere. And they don’t give two hoots that you are there. Quite the experience. I’d certainly recommend it to anyone thinking about visiting Croatia.

Move over path, more water coming through.

Move over path, water coming through.

Lower lakes. Awesome, but different to the upper lakes.

Lower lakes. Awesome, but very different to the upper lakes.

Pretty lakes

Pretty lakes..smooth and still and utterly clear.

Plitvice

One of many, many falls. Water spills over everything.

Perfect. And perfectly empty. Huzzah for arriving early.

Perfect. And perfectly empty. Huzzah for arriving early.

Doesn't look like a lake, does it?

Doesn’t look like a lake, does it?

Food in Croatia:

Am loving the grilled fish here. We ordered a share platter of seafood on our first night, and it came with grilled scampi, squid, monkfish, tuna, mussels and two whole grilled fish of surpassing deliciousness. We picked those babies clean. Everything was delicious, but the grilled whole fish was really quite exceptional. Why I normally avoid (cooked) fish I’m not really sure, I think I have some sort of subconscious idea that I don’t like it. Seems my subconscious is wrong. Bring it, grilled fish!
Mmmm. Grilled seafoody goodness.

Mmmm. Grilled seafoody goodness at Riva bar cafe in Trogir. However, they didn’t clean their squid. Grrr. Lazy kitchen staff.

Ellie: We bought a packet of things that looked like Cheetos, and were made of some sort of corn meal. They tasted (and smelled) exactly like those packing peanuts (yes, I know they aren’t food grade) that our stock arrives in at work! Needless to say, we relegated that particular pack of snacks to the bin. Not a flavour sensation.

Everything snack-wise seems to be paprika flavour. Don’t get me wrong, I like paprika. But I don’t really want 9/10 products to be paprika flavour. Seems like your options are paprika or cheese (the 1/10). Unless you buy the bruschetta. Those are great.

Visiting Bosnia & Herzegovina:

As we were headed to Dubrovnik to where the sailing trip was due to depart, we elected to go via Bosnia and Herzegovina. Why not, really. As it is, you have to cross through B&H to get to Dubrovnik anyway as Croatia has an odd border situation going on in the southern coastal part of the country. So we drove through B&H from Plitvice and made our way to Mostar, crossing some seriously beautiful (but also sometimes dismal) countryside. B&H. Terrible abbreviation. Sounds like a sauce. But apparently it’s not ok to just say “Bosnia”.

We passed many towns devoid of people, having been abandoned during conflicts now long passed. It was strange to see so many buildings abandoned, decrepit and riddled with bullet holes. Even after all this time, people have not returned. Understandable, I guess, as there is a good possibility that there may also be land mines. Something like 120,000+ mines and unexploded munitions still around, and people still die regularly. Seriously unfortunate situation. There are skull-and-crossbone signs everywhere warning about mines nailed to trees on the roadsides.

Stopped in at one of the national parks on the way, and was very happy we did. They had the best picnic seating I have ever seen, and out in the middle of nowhere. Must be a popular destination at the right time of year. We had it all to ourselves.

Picnic pavilions. Location: middle of nowhere.

Picnic pavilions. Location: middle of nowhere.

Waterfalls at the NP.

Waterfalls at the NP.

Our maps app reckons you can drive on this.

Our maps app reckons you can drive on this.

Mostar, Bosnia & Herzegovina:

View from Restaurant Babilon

View from Restaurant Babilon. The Old Bridge is on the right.

We stayed in Mostar overnight, and hung out in the Old City. The bridge they tout as their major attraction was interesting to see (although it has been rebuilt), and was exceedingly slippery and steep to walk on. The whole Old City was a bit of a liability. All the polished cobbles were super slick and quite the mission to remain upright on. Murray even took his footwear off. However, the streets were beautiful and we had a great time there (even if I did almost fall over more times than I could count).
View from the bridge.

View from the bridge.

There was one intrepid youth jumping off the bridge during our time enjoying the scenery (from the comfort of a local cafe on the river). Utterly insane. The bridge is high enough above the water that falling into the water incorrectly would undoubtedly rearrange some of your appendages. But he did it repeatedly, with no ill effect. I read somewhere that you can get a local to teach you how, although I am certain that this would not be covered by travel insurance. Makes my teeth hurt just thinking about it.
Not the actual bridge. Another one over the canal.  The actual bridge had a healthy coating of tourists and was less photogenic.

Not the actual bridge. Another one over the canal. The actual bridge had a healthy coating of tourists and as such was less photogenic.

Ate more grilled fish here, as we are not anywhere near getting sick of it yet. Also hung out at a discotheque…in a cave. Pretty awesome, even if we were the only ones there. However, they only sold horrible beer. Didn’t stay long. Would have been great if it was a busy night. Migrated to the Black Dog Pub instead, and enjoyed (?) the effluent-scented breeze by the canal along with some not-quite-local beer. All the local draught beer was out of stock, which was disappointing, as this was why we were visiting this bar in the first place. Asked the barman for something like a local schnapps instead (since apparently plum brandy and other liqueurs are a common home-made specialty) to try, and what we got was closer to some sort of fragrant jet fuel. Horrid stuff. And definitely home made. Came out of a PET bottle. Not to be repeated. Not sure if I want to know what it was made out of, but I suspect it was a local grappa variant. Urk.
Grilled fish plate, Bosnian version. This one comes with veggies and potato cakes.

Grilled fish plate, Bosnian version. This one comes with veggies and potato cakes.

The offending shot.

The offending shot.

...Cheers?

…Cheers?

Dubrovnik, Croatia:

It's a nice city, I have to admit.

It’s a nice city, I have to admit.

Took us what seemed like forever, but we made it back to Croatia. No thanks to our mapping apps. They kept trying to take us down roads only suitable for off-road vehicles (or over bridges only intended for foot traffic). Apple maps was even worse and conveniently left out the majority of the roads in B&H, making it utterly useless. However, we eventually drove in to Dubrovnik and met up with Nath & Rach again. This time for the sailing trip planned from Dubrovnik to Split. Here we spent two days exploring the Old City and generally getting more than our fair share of exercise via stairs during our wandering around town. (Plus our accommodation was at the top of the hill. Fail. Taxi time.) Game of Thrones is filmed here (and other places, but the scenery here you’re likely to recognise), and we walked along the walls of the Old City (aka Kings Landing). It was quite warm (read: very hot). Hot enough to not be deterred by an overpriced beverage while on the wall. However, the walk was totally worth it, and we saw the city in a way that we wouldn’t have otherwise been able to.

We also caught the cable car up to the top of the nearby mountain for a better view. However, they may have had a bit of an engineering fail with the cable car design, since it seems it is more or less impossible to take photos of the city or the Elaphites islands without also taking a picture of the cable car and cables. Disappointing. Nevertheless, it was a nice trip and we had dinner at the restaurant there. Delicious. So far, having far more success with eating out than in Belgium.

Spent one of our days exploring Lokrum island, just off the coast of Dubrovnik. Had a great swim there and once again, delicious food. Loving grilled fish and squid. Loved that little island. Great island vibe, and great little cafes to hang out in.
Lokrum island.

Lokrum island. With Nath hiding behind his towel.

View from the city walls.

View from the city walls.

The walled city. Or Kings Landing, if you will.

The walled city from the fort. Or Kings Landing, if you will.

The Old City and Lokrum island.

The Old City and Lokrum island.

Having a swim off the rocks at Lokrum.

Having a swim off the rocks at Lokrum.

Plenty of nice spots for swimming in these parts.

Plenty of nice spots for swimming in these parts.

Next stop:

Sailing our way back to Split.

More on Ireland:

On living in the middle of nowhere:

When I asked a local how the postie manages his job, given that most of the roads feature the “unnamed road” situation, I was duly informed that the postie knows everyone in town (and where they live). And if someone is new, the neighbours won’t waste any time letting other locals know about the newcomers. I guess that is small town living for you… Everybody knows everybody. In these days of relative anonymity, I think it’s a bit of a scary prospect.

I’m not sure if I could do the small town thing. Or at least, not a town this small. Think it would drive me nuts. Could explain the ridiculous number of pubs in the town. Not much else to do. Rains most of the time, cold most of the time. I expect everyone gets more than their fair share of quality “indoor time”. Seems like almost every day features a spot of rain. Or much more than a spot of rain. Has to be irritating when trying to organise outdoor activities. There are campgrounds aplenty, but I can’t imagine pitching a tent with these conditions.
Love the cliffs and skies here.

Love the cliffs and skies here.

Enjoying the view.

Enjoying the view.

Love the goat paths.

Love the goat paths.

 More stuff we have been up to:

  • Killarney National Park:
Drove through here on the way back from a drive up the coast. Amazing. Definitely wanted to spend more time here. Beautiful lakes and stunning views. Unfortunately, the day we allocated turned out to be a bust. At home, it was mostly overcast and a little wet. Not great, but doable (ie. Ireland’s version of normal). The weather at the park, however, was a mishmash of wet, windy and freezing. When we got there, the wind off the lake was utterly ridiculous. Decided that we couldn’t hack it. Especially since we had planned to hike for the whole day.
View of the Killarney National Park

View of the Killarney National Park (on a less feral day)

Since the weather was feral, we decided to go for a drive instead (still not ideal, since the fog was in). We wanted to drive the Gap of Dunloe, but when we got there there was definite signage indicating that the pass was not intended for driving by any vehicles aside from local traffic and horse & cart. So, we wussed out and checked out the Dingle peninsula instead. Poxy weather or no, the drive was still worthwhile, and when we returned, we had another go at the Gap of Dunloe (after reading various reports that the road was in fact ok for tourists to drive). It was amazing.

  • Gap of Dunloe:

Great drive. Fabulous scenery. However, the road was very narrow, with few points available to pass cars (and only single lane road). It would have been too hair-raising for me to drive it, but Murray is much more of a confident driver by comparison. He managed fine. If we had more time, it would have been great to do a pony & trap ride and enjoy the scenery at a more sedate pace. We even drove further than the Gap and was rewarded with even more great scenery (and a very friendly, crotch-butting sheep). Definitely would recommend visiting, although not necessarily driving.

Gap of Dunloe

Gap of Dunloe

At the Gap

At the Gap

Hi Sheep! Please stay off the road...

Hi Sheep! Please stay off the road…

Nature in Ireland:

Despite a keen desire to spot some more of the local wildlife, Ireland hasn’t been keen to give up the goods. We have seen several red foxes, on their afternoon foray for a late lunch (or is it early dinner?), one deer, and other than that, no evidence of animals (outside of the flattened roadside variety). It seems thus far that the roadkill variety is the main form of discovering the local wildlife, which although disappointing, is still interesting nonetheless.

The wildflowers have been spectacular, and it has been interesting to watch the progression of various blooms coming into flower. Last week it was gorse, rhododendrons and daisies, here, there and everywhere. This week it is buttercups brightening the fields and fuchsia adorning the hedgerows. Next week will likely be the rise of the foxgloves and wild rose, but I think we are going to miss it.

IMG_3447IMG_3428
Buttercups!

Buttercups!

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The landscape is largely bare of forest, with plenty of windswept gorse, heather and rhododendron. Pine forest is a frequent sight, but it all appears to be planted forests for logging. Apparently Ireland used to be heavily forested. Not so much anymore. Bit sad, but still beautiful in a sometimes  bleak, rugged, and stony kind of way.

Weekend with Nath & Rach:

We had the pleasure of having guests for a few days! Nath & Rach visited us from London for a long weekend.

Saturday:

Murray and Nathan did the Ring of Beara ride, following one of the picturesque fingers of land on the West Cork coastline. Rach and I also did some of the Ring of Beara, but from the far more convenient and comfortable confines of the car. Quite beautiful, and seeing it for a second time was almost as exciting as the first. We also picked up a hitch hiker. One of the elderly locals, actually. Doesn’t own a car, or a phone. Somehow manages living way out of town anyway. Relies on the kindness of strangers from his reports. Apparently much easier in peak season since there is more car traffic. Goodness he talked a lot. In a thick (almost incomprehensible) brogue. At least he turned out to be harmless (if ridiculously chatty).

Rach and I also visited the Skibbereen markets, which, although touted as one of the biggest markets in the area was quite a bit smaller than I had imagined. I’d say they might be pushing it to estimate the number of stalls as more than 30. Having said that, one week Murray and I went to Schull to visit their market, only to find less than 10 stalls there. So I guess the Skibbereen market is indeed quite a bit bigger. Just not of the size I’ve come to expect. Plenty of fresh local produce though, so a great opportunity to try some local eggs, cheese, meat and preserves.

We also visited the Bantry House and Gardens, for a spot of lunch and a bit of a walk in their manicured gardens. Very pretty, but Rach informs me it has nothing on the gardens that we will see when we visit them in London. Will have to wait and see!

Bantry Gardens. Wisteria++

Bantry Gardens. Wisteria++

Pantry House and Gardens

Bantry House and Gardens

Sunday:
We drove the next finger of coastline, the Ring of Kerry. Also beautiful, and different from the Ring of Beara. Every time we visit the coastline it seems it has something different in store for us.
Mapping a sträva segment on the top of a hill fort.

Mapping a Strava segment on the top of a hill fort.

Comparing notes on Strava.

Comparing notes on Strava. From the top of the fort. As you do.

Somewhere on the Ring of Kerry

Somewhere on the Ring of Kerry

Monday:
Another scenic drive. Since that is more or less what you get up to in these parts. This time we did the Goat’s Path drive out to Sheep’s Head and hiked out to the lighthouse located there. Had a great, if ridiculously windy, time walking out to the lighthouse, and the views of the cliffs and coast was definitely worth the effort. Don’t think I have ever experienced wind like that before. Hope I never do again. Nearly ate it walking up a hill when the wind dropped (for all of maybe one second). I am definitely not used to having to battle the wind for the opportunity to remain upright.
Out at Sheep's Head

Out at Sheep’s Head

Cliffs at Sheep's Head

Cliffs at Sheep’s Head

Had a toasted sandwich and a Guinness for lunch at a tiny pub on the way home. Seems to be a ubiquitous and economic option for lunch in Ireland: toasted sambo with a small side of potato chips. While we were there discussing beer with the publican, she explained to us that Guinness has too many chemicals, and if someone was not doing well in the health department, that their doctor would recommend that they switch beers to Beamish instead. So… Perhaps the advertising that “Guinness is Good For You” might be a slight exaggeration (or complete fallacy). Although, being told to switch beers (not stop/reduce the beers?) seems to be quite the novel option from a health point of view. I guess perhaps the doctors know not to push the subject into dangerous territory.

Dublin Bound:

We headed back to Dublin via the western coastline mostly via Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way. This has been a great way to see the coast, and by far the best parts have been close to our home base – the Ring of Beara and the Ring of Kerry being the standouts.
Cliffs of Moher. Wind level: ridiculous for those on two legs.

Cliffs of Moher. Wind level: ridiculous for those on two legs.

Having lunch at a lake near Galway. Damn cold thanks to some serious wind conditions.

Having lunch at a lake near Galway. Damn cold thanks to some serious wind conditions.

Things have been interesting, but following the coastline up south-north probably wasn’t the best way to do it. Mostly because it seems like the northern end is a bit of a let down after all the beautiful scenery we have already seen and become accustomed to. The varied landscapes and ubiquitous sheep have been a pleasure, even when the sheep monopolize the road you are trying to traverse. I’ve had to get out of the car on a few occasions to encourage said wooly wonders to crop grass elsewhere. Generally they are pretty timid, although one was determined to headbutt me in the crotch in an effort to score a pat.

Which brings me to the collie dog situation. I guess being a farming community it makes sense that the dog of choice would be a collie dog, ostensibly with the purpose of herding sheep and cows. However, most collies we have seen have been either a) having a kip or b) in hot pursuit of our car (literally snapping at the bumper as we make our escape). When there has been herding to be done, it has been overseen by the farmer and not the dog (but it appears that the cows have the routine down pat). So I guess the dog element might just be for companionship…Or maybe keeping up with appearances (every farmer has a dog, right?).
We made a friend.

We made a friend.

We also stayed in the town of Kilkelly overnight, which although not much to look at, was a pleasant enough experience. Pretty sure the town is more or less on the way out. Places empty or for lease everywhere. Still plenty of pubs though. Ate at the only food establishment in town: a snack cafe of sorts serving up things like chips and fried chicken. Classy. Spent the evening hanging out with the locals and chatting about their various relatives that have moved to Australia. Every Irish person we have met seems to know someone in Australia. And as Murray has said, by Australia, they mean Perth.

We stayed in Ballina. The original Ballina, I guess. I never realised so many areas in NSW are based on places that are in Ireland. How about that. Murray being more or less from the Ballina area, we definitely had to pay the area a visit. Really, why wouldn’t you, if given the opportunity? Ate Chinese food, which was surprisingly good. Somehow, eating asian cuisine in an area that isn’t multicultural is surpassingly weird. Apparently there are something like less than 2% population of asians in Ireland. Crazy.

Dublin and the surrounds:

Our last 5 days in Ireland! Disturbing to think that this signifies that 3 months of our trip has been and gone already.

We stayed in the small town of Killiney, just south of Dublin, this time in a small apartment adjoining a main residence. The house (like all the houses in the area) was named, and etched into a pillar at the entrance to the lane. “Little Harrows” was where we stayed, and it proved to be quite a comfy spot to get in a few last days of work before leaving for Croatia.
Enjoying the view from Killiney Hill.

Murray enjoying the view from Killiney Hill.

The actual view.

The actual view. Looks like coastal NSW…

Due to time constraints, we didn’t end up spending any time in Dublin city itself. We did, however, get to see some of the surrounding countryside. Visited a few last destinations on our OPW cards and checked out the coastline. It has nothing on the west coast. Also visited one of the more popular shopping malls to try and get a few new things. I am surprised to say, Australia does shopping malls better than anyone else. Shopping malls in the US aren’t exactly fabulous, and Belgium, slightly better, but still not great. This one in Ireland? Worst I’ve seen yet. Small, and a terrible selection of shops. Needless to say, we did not get what we came for.

Mellifont Abbey

Mellifont Abbey. What’s left of it, anyway.

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Bective Abbey. Got to climb all over this one. 🙂

Also sent a package of stuff we hadn’t used back to Australia. That was a mission in itself. Here, you must buy the packaging materials of choice and prepare your package to be sent via post at somewhere other than the post office. They don’t sell packaging materials there. So we had to hunt out a cardboard box and tape to seal it with, which was rather exotic. And then to send the gear home the postal system only accepts Irish cards.. so we had to pay cash. It wasn’t cheap. Murray thought it a waste of money, but I figure it is worth it to not have to tote around extra things

Exiting Ireland:

So, we chose to fly Ryanair. Since having booked, I have heard many not so fabulous things about the joys of flying with their service. Our experience? Actually not bad (other than the GIANT line at the airport for the Ryanair service desks). However, having to print out the boarding pass yourself is an absolute pain in the posterior (as a tourist, anyway). We went to a lot of effort to print out our passes only to find that we needed to make a change on it, and was thereby required to print the buggers off yet again. It cost <4 euro to print, all in all, but it took a lot of fluffing around to find somewhere that would print the email. I’m positive it cost plenty more than 4 euro in petrol money. But, still better than the fee they charge at the airport to print the boarding pass for you.

Our flight was relatively uneventful. Apparently, some jackass elected to have a smoke in one of the onboard lavatories. Which, I have never, ever come across before. The staff were less than impressed, and although they demanded that the person responsible own up, I am pretty sure that no one was going to volunteer as the guilty party after it was announced that doing so would result in a huge fine and immediate arrest upon arrival in Croatia. And the flight was less than 3 hours… Why would anyone be stupid enough to smoke in the plane? Surely cravings can’t be that bad.

We got off the plane to some seriously warm surroundings. After being in Ireland, enjoying(?) a maximum of maybe 20 degrees during our stay, the weather in Croatia is definitely a wee bit different. At least 10 degrees of difference. Maximum sunshine. At least it hasn’t been particularly humid. Yay, summer!

From Belgium to Ireland

The Exodus from Belgium:

With only a couple of days to go, our time in Brussels felt like it more or less evaporated out from under us. Having said that, we have seen a respectable amount of the countryside and experienced a range of different things during our time here.

Monday:

My birthday! And also the day before we leave for Ireland. As such, most of the day was dedicated to packing up in preparation for migrating elsewhere. However, we made an effort to get out of the house, and headed into Brussels to visit our new friends we’d made on Friday (at Nuetnigenough) at the Delirium cafe. Marjorie (superstar beer blogger extraordinaire) even brought me a birthday gift of some local beers to try, which was wonderful! Hopefully we will get a chance to meet again at Oktoberfest in September!

It was a nice trip into town, and I’m glad we made the effort to get out of the house one last time. Murray also make me breakfast, which was lovely. Can’t go past poached eggs you didn’t have to make yourself.

Tuesday:

Road trip to Paris! The cheapest way to hire a car is to rent it for an extended period, and return it from whence you got it. Hence, road trip back to the Charles De Gaulle airport so we can fly off to Ireland. Paris is also a good location to fly out from, certainly cheaper than many other locations.

We weren’t going to fluff around on this drive, since there was going to be a solid bit of driving when we got to Ireland. However, we took the scenic route as much as possible and took in the sights from the vantage of the car. Kind of wished we had more time, as we definitely spotted a few things worth taking a closer look at.
Notre Dame cathedral in Reims. From the back. In the car.

Notre Dame cathedral in Reims. From the back. In the car.

Saw plenty of double-butt cows. Don’t think I remembered to mention them previously. Peculiar looking things, they are everywhere in Belgium and appear to be cows on steroids (with the kind of muscles where it looks like the muscles have muscles of their own). They are a variety called Belgian Blue, which feature an interesting genetic feature of having doubled muscle fibers. Took me all month to actually remember to look the cow variety up, and when I searched and found out about this double muscle situation it certainly made a lot of sense. So I wasn’t wrong in dubbing them “double-butt” cows. They do, in fact, have secondary ass-cheek (along with all the rest of the duplicated muscle tissue). Now I wish I’d made an effort to buy some Belgian beef, just to see what these mystery cows taste like. Meant to be leaner (less fatty) but still tender as the muscle fibers are shorter. Maybe I’ll get a chance when we stay in France.

I’ve included a stock photo of these hulk-esque beauties, since I didn’t manage to take a photo of the double-butted mystery cows during our trip.
SHERIFF_de_Centfontaine

Not sure what the go is with the haircut, but, haircut aside, this is a representative picture of the Belgian Blue.

We mostly drove through farmland, which consisted of cows, sheep, wheat & rapeseed. The fields of rapeseed were very impressive, but difficult to take a decent picture of. Seriously yellow fields (almost fluorescent). Everywhere, and interspersed with still-green fields of wheat, making a bright checkerboard of agricultural art. The landscape was very flat, making it difficult to take any pictures from the car.

Despite giving ourselves an appropriate window to get to the airport, we were lucky to make our flight in time. We parked in the wrong rental car park, basically putting ourselves somewhere on the far side of the moon in respect to where our flight departed from. It took us some serious hoofing it with all our lovely luggage to get to the right terminal, only to get caught up in the slowest security line ever. Seriously, what the heck? However, we made it.

Random Rant. Topic: Flying. Anywhere.

 

It really chaps me that the process for clearing security is different everywhere you go. It’s annoying enough in the US with their ridiculously over vigilant security procedures, without the rest of the hypocritical measures that make the whole process rather meaningless.

 
In France:
 
You get to keep your shoes on (except it seems when they are high heels, steel caps or look like they might be packing something suspicious). Those having to take off shoes have the joy of putting on disposable booties.

 
Jackets off. Apparently including my zippered t-shirt (since it has a zip, I guess they figure it’s fair game). Thank goodness I had a singlet on under it. That could have been awkward. It’s a shirt made out of thin jersey, not a overcoat, what would I be hiding under there that you couldn’t already see? Nowhere else has wanted it off.

 
Normal(ish): Laptop out (always) and out of case (not always). Watch off (not always). Belt off (always). Liquids out (always)*. Separate trays for almost everything.
 

Not normal: Needing your plane ticket while you go through security in France. If you didn’t have your plane ticket in your hand, you had to then dig it out of your bag (after rescuing it from the security conveyor belt) so it could be scanned.

 
*I can’t figure out the situation with liquids. I’d been putting my contact lens packs through security in the liquids bags previously (since they are packed in liquid, and if they have a beef with Chapstick which is clearly a solid, then I wasn’t going to take any chances with something clearly containing an actual liquid). Seems that’s not ok, and they re-packed my liquids sans-contacts into another bag. Go figure. They even did it without asking (I’m sure there would be plenty of people in conniptions about that).
 

…And then if you get anything wrong, the staff look at you like you are the worlds biggest idiot for not following the standard procedure for security clearance. Except it clearly isn’t standard.
 

French security clearance gave me a serious case of eye twitch (more so than usual). Luckily for us, the gate we needed for our flight to Ireland was directly on the other side of security (not that we knew it at the time), but given how far everything was from everything else, it could have been another 5 or 10 min walk away. Boarding was in full force already, and was almost at the end of the posted boarding closure time by the time we got there…And we had thought we would have plenty of time to both acquire and eat lunch before boarding…Goodness no. But we made it. Huzzah!

Ireland:

We arrived safely in Dublin. The flight was uneventful, and actually arrived early. However, early is not necessarily better, since there was nowhere to park our winged steed, and we had to idle around on the tarmac until a gate became available. Once we arrived, the customs official laughed at us when we said we would be in Ireland for 5 weeks. Apparently it is too wet  to be wanting to spend that long enjoying their wonderful weather. Admittedly, it was raining at the time, and the wind was insane. But surely, more time just increases the likelihood of scoring a few sunny days, yes?

…It took forever to get our rental car due to the wonderful mysteries of computer non-functionality, but eventually we were on the road.

As it was rapidly getting late, we visited only one of the stops we had planned to check out on the way – the Rock of Dunamase, which forms the first of many ruins that we will undoubtedly explore during our Irish adventure. We were there just as the sunlight was on its way out, and there were only 3 other people there. You could climb all over it if you so chose. It was lovely to explore in peace (although also in utterly freezing wind). Temperature definitely colder here vs. Belgium.

Rock of Dunamase.

Rock of Dunamase.

Making the most of the sunset.

Making the most of the sunset.

Stayed in Kilkenny for the night, and spent the following morning exploring the town and gardens. Also went on a guided tour of the Smithwick’s brewery.  Not particularly familiar with Smithwick’s beer… Not even sure if I have seen it in Australia? Only in the US… The tour was most unusual. Certainly the most touristy thing we have experienced regarding beer. However, it was entertaining, and came with a pint at the end. No complaints.
It's a giant gas mask. At the brewery. Why not.

It’s a giant gas mask. At the brewery. Why not.

On the drive to our new abode, we also visited the ruins of the Kilfane Church, another example of the “go forth and explore” Irish attitude. There was a tiny spiral staircase which we climbed to the upper levels. There was even a birds nest (with a clutch of eggs) squirreled into a nook in the stairwell between floors. It was pretty squishy (the stairs, not the nest), and if you were portly I’m very sure you’d get stuck like a cork somewhere on the climb. It was awkward enough just turning around to go back down the stairs…The church was a lot of fun to explore. And we almost didn’t find it, thanks to a distinct lack of signage (also seems to be a European commonality). Luckily, Murray spotted the top of the ruin through the trees while driving back past. From the road there was only an open gate to indicate there was anything in the forest at all.

Kilfane Church

Kilfane Church

In the Kilfane Church stairwell.

In the Kilfane Church stairwell.

Making historic artefacts look substantially less cool.

Making historic artefacts look substantially less cool.

I already love that Ireland (and Europe in general, so far) seems to be very relaxed when it comes to regulating access to attractions. You are free to climb on things and explore to your heart’s content. Even if it’s not necessarily safe as houses. Use your own judgment, you have a brain. In Australia things would have been barricaded off and almost completely inaccessible for 9/10 attractions you visit. It’s never been so apparent the whole Nanny-State situation that we have in Australia since being places (other than Australia). We are one over-protected, over-regulated bunch. If Australia was a parent, you’d accuse it of mollycoddling.

…And in Ireland at least, it seems like many attractions are also free. Huzzah! Having said that, we have since purchased a OPW Heritage Card each, which for the price of 25 euro p/p entitles us to free entry to many heritage listed sites, gardens and national parks. Alternatively, you could just sight-see on a Wednesday, as apparently it is free in a bid to encourage the citizenry to get themselves some culture (and/or exercise). Discovered this on a stop in at Jerpoint Abbey, where it happened to be Wednesday…So our first card use didn’t really count as it was free anyway.
Jerpoint Abbey

Jerpoint Abbey

Jerpoint abbey.

Jerpoint abbey.

Our home for the month:

We stayed in a small rural cottage (complete with loft) in the town of Skibbereen, in County Cork. Which, by the way, is more or less in the middle of nowhere. Cows-and-sheep-for-company style nowhere. The road doesn’t even get the benefit of being named (a common occurrence in Ireland). Made for an interesting adventure finding it for the first time. Had no idea it was quite so…in the middle of nowhere. Having said that, it was still only about 10 minutes drive to the middle of town. Still, suburbia it was definitely not.
View from the cottage most mornings. Wet.

View from the cottage most mornings. Wet.

Or foggy as. Mind you, this was 2pm.

Or foggy as. Mind you, this was 2pm.

Pretty sure we chose the cottage because it was a steal and looked like a good location, and don’t get me wrong, it is a great location and a lovely town. Retrospectively, however, probably should have chosen accommodation that was a little more central to the west coast of Ireland, rather than more or less right at the bottom. It has made our day trips somewhat overlong in the driving department, and there was simply no way we would get to see as much of the coastline as was initially planned.

Random Rant #2: Driving in Ireland:

 
Ireland might be a relatively small country, but driving around country Ireland involves some seriously windy, single lane, hedgerow-lined, steep and downright precarious roads at times. From what we have experienced so far, it seems like Europe favors single lane roads (where although technically catering for both directions, is only wide enough to accommodate a car driving in one direction at a time). Which requires a lot of driver courtesy, and frequent stopping to allow passing of cars is just part of everyday driving. Never seen so many courtesy waves in my entire life. The Irish are certainly a courteous bunch when it comes to driving! Didn’t get flipped the bird even once.

 
The speed limit is…interesting. Australia’s RTA would freak right out. On the smaller roads it is either 50km or 80km (or heaven forbid, sometimes 100km). However, the speed limit is often not followed, but not in the way it would be interpreted at home. Out in the country areas, more often it is slower, rather than faster, as to drive to the signposted limit sometimes feels like a death-defying rally car experience. With the added bonus of blind corners and occasional surprise oncoming traffic. Thank goodness I’m not driving or we would have been upside down in a hedgerow by now. Pretty sure our hire car features some battle scars from run ins with various brambles when pulling over to allow cars to pass. Hopefully this will not manifest as an extra charge on our credit card (fingers and toes crossed!).

What we have been doing with our spare time:

So… What have we been up to? This month has been relatively sedate, with Murray putting in a lot of work hours from the comfort of our little cottage. I’ve more or less been trying to figure out what we are doing for the next few months, as our planning only goes as far (booking-wise) as our sailing trip in Croatia.

When we have made it out of the house:
  • We have been out to Lough Hyne (a local lake fed by the sea) a couple of times. Murray goes for a run, and I climb (read: walk) up the hill to appreciate the view. Features plenty of stairs. Oh, how I love stairs (sarcasm). However, stairs or no, the view is totally worth the effort to see it. Wish there was something like this close to home in Brisbane.

View from the hill at Lough Hyne

  • Been on many forays up and down the coast of County Cork, checking out the scenery (and lunch visits to some of the more picturesque pubs). Plenty of cliffs, sheep, cows, more sheep, and ruins just about everywhere. The smell of the largely farming-oriented countryside leaves something to be desired. Turns out cows can be a whole lot stinkier than I had remembered.
Standing stones. We beat the tour bus of Germans to see this unmolested.

Standing stones. We beat the tour bus of Germans to see this unmolested.

Cool ravine with mossy trampoline-like grass everywhere.

Cool ravine with mossy trampoline-like grass everywhere.

IMG_3438

Out at Baltimore. With the mysterious suppository-shaped beacon.

  • Drove the Ring of Beara. A major destination drive along one of the prettiest fingers of land along the West Coast of Ireland. Epic. More quality coastal scenery than you can poke a stick at. We even managed to see it on a day when the weather was good (mostly). Definitely recommend doing this drive. One of the best areas we visited for sure.

<I’d include photos here, but WordPress is being difficult. Weeks of failing at uploading photos.. I give up. Eventually I’ll put them on Flickr (link to the gallery up at the top of this page somewhere)>

Murray also did a ride over Healy Pass, leaving me to explore Derreen Gardens. (I saw/surprised a deer! And it saw/surprised me. We both freaked out. The deer ran away. All I’ve got to show for it is a grainy photo of its butt in hasty retreat.)

<Thanks WordPress. No photo here either.>

Ok, it’s high time to call it a day on this post. It is getting overlong!!! Until next post… Whenever that may be…

Belgium: It’s the last week. Already.

Oh dear: It’s Our Last week in Belgium:

So, as it happens, time has continued to pass at what feels like an accelerated rate, and as such we are already on our last week in Brussels, Belgium. It’s been a great experience, and I can certainly attest to the fantastic opportunity it is to be living in Europe. I love that you are able to travel as you please, unhindered and for very little cost. The price of seeing the world (Europe at least) is so much cheaper when you have a base on the continent. Why Australia, are you so far from everything???

As it’s our last, this week we have been making an effort to do those things we have not yet done:

Thursday:

We hadn’t done it, and therefore had to make some time before we ran out entirely: We visited Bruges. And Ghent (since it was on the way).

Ghent:

Well. We visited Ghent first, as someone had recommended visiting there, but we had not thought a lot about it. If it wasn’t for Murray wanting to visit a special bottle shop there, we might have missed it entirely.

 

Ghent: Canal and ubiquitous church

Ghent: Canal and ubiquitous church

Ghent was amazing, and retrospectively, I wish we had chosen this city as our home base instead of Brussels. The historic city centre was beautiful, with plentiful examples of longstanding buildings of historic and aesthetic value. And there was plenty of street art. I recognized some of what we saw from our previous trip to Doel. It seems like Ghent boasts a brilliant mix of both old world and new. It wasn’t busy, and for the large part, it almost felt like we had the place to ourselves. Like Amsterdam, there were canals and canal boats to ride, but without the crowds and with an abundance of beautiful history architecture.

 

Street art in Ghent.

Street art in Ghent.

One cafe we walked through featured a multitude of cured ham legs hanging from the ceiling. Like, everywhere. Somehow, Murray failed to notice this (how do you not see in excess of 30 leg of hams hanging just about your head I do not know). I wish I had gotten a picture, as it was pretty hamtastic (lame, I know).

We visited the castle “Gravensteen” for a quick inspection of this historic artifact, now restored after its ignoble past. Apparently it was built on the site of a far more humble castle, with the primary purpose of showing off (of course). And as time wore on, it ended up being a location to hold and torture prisoners. Historically, this place did not have a good backstory to recommend it, but it was duly restored despite its history and is now just another tourist trap. We did not pay the 20 euro it would cost to traipse its internal workings, but instead just inspected the outside. Which was under refurbishment. Surprise. Seems like everything historic we have seen has been under some sort of refurbishment/repair/remodeling. I’ve seen just as much scaffold as I have actual historic building to date (in all honesty, probably more scaffold than building).

 

Castle Gravensteen. Couldn't manage to get a photo with zero evidence of maintenance.

Castle Gravensteen. Couldn’t manage to get a photo with zero evidence of maintenance.

Notes on Ghent: It’s definitely worth a visit/stay if you are happening by. Definitely completely different experience to Brussels. Old town feel, but with a trendy side. Great beer selection at the corner stores.

Bruges:

Bruges, it was a wonderful place to visit, although I’m not totally convinced it was a better destination than Ghent. When we initially arrived, the traffic was terrible, and it took a considerable amount of time just to get ourselves parked and in the city streets. We parked in an underground lot, as the council preference in the city is to minimise the negative aesthetic that parked cars add to the historic streets (ie. minimal street parking provided, many streets pedestrian and special traffic only). The official city visitor recommendation is to park at the city outskirts in the commuter parking for the train station if arriving by car, however, traffic was so bad that we abandoned ship on trying to get to the train station and just parked at the closest parking plaza. As it happens, we ended up parked underneath some sort of carnival. Like Amsterdam, Bruges “show” had a multitude of sideshow-alley style rides and vendors, however this one was complete with demountable roller coasters and other fancy rides I’d not normally associate with a travelling show. Made it easy for us to find our parking lot when we were leaving (ie. follow the sounds of screaming).

View from the cafe in the Bruges town square

View from the cafe in the Bruges town square

 

The Bruges architecture and city centre were very similar to what we had seen in Ghent, but the foot traffic was definitely much increased (although we did arrive mid-afternoon). No street art, though. Definitely maintained to be more of a historic feature than Ghent. However, historic or not, the streets still abounded with the common fashion labels e.g. h&m etc and there were more chocolatiers than you could hope to peruse. Kind of like visiting Queen St Mall, if the mall space also featured historic churches and town buildings (and mountains of chocolate).

…I’m glad we learned our lesson and came on a weekday, as the streets were still very busy (undoubtedly meaning it would have been feral on Saturday/Sunday). As it was, it was still too busy for our liking, and we holed up in a cafe for a while to get out of the crowd. However, turned out this was a great strategy (I guess it’s not really strategy when it sort of just happens…Serendipitous would probably be more accurate). By the time we had a) eaten late lunch in the square, and b) enjoyed a beverage in the cafe, the stores had closed making venturing back onto the streets a more comfortable experience. With no retailers left open, most of the tourists evaporated! (Undoubtedly whisked away by their respective tour buses.)

 

Bruges: Avoiding the crowds.

Bruges: Avoiding the crowds at ‘t Brugs Beertje. Super cute beer cafe.

The quiet streets were much more enjoyable, and walking through the town in the late afternoon sunlight was quite charming (major advantage being sunlight until after 9pm). There were even many areas where there was almost no-one around. There were plenty of beautiful canals and gardens to admire, and there were many scenic opportunities for photos or a nice romantic stroll (if you’re so inclined). However, I suspect it wouldn’t have been nearly as enjoyable if the streets were bustling. Glad we waited out the other tourists!

 

Bruges: Pretty photogenic.

Bruges: Pretty photogenic.

So, notes on Bruges: Definitely visit, but for best effect, try to get there when everyone else isn’t.

Friday:

In preparation for the Tour de Geuze, we visited the Boon brewery today. The staff at the lambic museum had recommended that we take a tour boat from Halle, and as such we turned up bright and early to avoid the masses that we were assured we would have to contend with otherwise. Turns out we were there at the same time as a bus of tourists who had prior reservations. So maybe it wasn’t quite as quiet as we were hoping. It was also freezing on the river, and the tour on the boat was in french and flemish, but not english. Boo. Luckily, the boat only cost 1 euro, and the trip was relatively short. Retrospectively, definitely could have skipped the tour boat, as the brewery was like 5km down the river.

Fortunately, when we arrived at the brewery there was an English speaking tour guide. It was a very basic tour (and not even by a Boon employee, but hey, it was a free tour), and covered pretty much all the bases we were already informed on for Lambic style brewing. Still, it was certainly interesting to see the brewery, as we generally end up on impromptu microbrewery tours held by the brewer at places we have visited in the past. Much bigger outfit than most of the other breweries we have visited thus far.

 

Murray: Happy as a clam on the Boon tour.

Murray: Happy as a clam on the Boon tour.

Boon definitely was set up for a big weekend – they had a pavilion set up for people to sit and drink and enjoy live music, as well as food. One thing I wish I had tried there seems to be some sort of local traditional chow – a tartine which appears to be an open-faced sandwich with beer-cheese, leek/spring onion and radish.. We have seen it multiple times now. Really should have asked someone about the significance of this particular dish. Google tells me it is a dish traditionally eaten with a glass of Geuze. So it makes sense at a Lambic brewery that they would serve this dish (Geuze is a blend of old plus new lambic beer). Thanks Google.

After Boon, as we still had plenty of sunlight, we made our way into the heart of the city to visit the Cantillon brewery, catching a bus and a tram to get there (somewhat belatedly our first experience with public transport). Only to find it was not open. Another point to note: opening hours are a highly volatile and unreliable indicator of actual opening hours. The Cantillon website indicated it would be open (despite the public holiday), but nope. Not open. Not the first time we have experienced this. Ah, Europe. Much like finding out a spot is closed while they are out to lunch. Very common occurrence.

We ended up hanging out at a previous haunt – Moeder Lambic, where they were having an Italian Beer festival, and then Nuetnigenough for dinner, where we met a couple of lovely beer blogging ladies and more or less boned in on their evening of beer discussion and tasting. It was great to make some new friends!

(Aside: Nuetnigenough: great place to enjoy some amazing beer and some really good food – definitely worth looking up if in Brussels – they have a great relationship with some of the local brewers Cantillon and Alvinne and even have a few beverages made especially for them.)

Our final stop was at the Delirium cafe, which when we visited the first time was so busy and loud you couldn’t hold a conversation even with yourself. This time around was much better, and we ended up chatting to a bunch of American military boys located in Germany. Out for the weekend, as you do.

On Sour Beer:

It is interesting that the species of yeast responsible for the lambic style sour beer only exists in a small area near Brussels. As such, other beers purporting to be a “sour” are another class entirely. We have tried others while in the US and here, and although they are also quite delicious, are still unlike what we have had here. And of the Belgian brewers: They are certainly very proud of their art. And it is an art – they have been busy perfecting this form of brewing for a very, very long time. But like other forms of art, not everybody appreciates it (and there are definitely a few we have tried that I would class in the “undrinkable” column). Having said that, my favourite sour Belgian brewer is definitely Alvinne (however, not a lambic brewer, but you can’t argue with personal taste).

Saturday:

It was a lazy day. It rained. We stayed inside. Movies were watched.

Sunday:

Sunday was Tour de Geuze day, and what we had originally extended our Brussels visit to catch. By now you may be thinking that we might have an unhealthy interest in beer, but I prefer to think of it as a interest shared is one well worth exploiting. And we are in Belgium. Need I say more? We may never be here again (although I wouldn’t say no if presented the opportunity). Besides, beer is more of a way of life in Belgium – everyone here has more or less lived and breathed beer their entire lives. All the venues we have visited have been family friendly affairs with young (like, stroller requiring young) and old (also stroller requiring) in attendance along with all ages in between. It isn’t about getting plastered, it’s a festive day out with friends and family and good local beer to appreciate. Definitely makes me wish we had friends here with us to help enjoy the festivities! However, we have had plenty of pleasant conversations with complete strangers.

We stopped in at Tilquin, de Cam (not actually part of the Tour de Geuze, but we hadn’t yet visited it) and finally Brouwerij 3 Fonteinen and sampled a few drinks before making our way home. It was very interesting, but as you had to drive to each brewery it was rather time consuming. It was certainly a festive affair, and at Brouwerij 3 Fonteinen there was even a bloke that (I think randomly) hopped off his bike to regale everyone with a song, and once started, others even joined in the fun.

So, Tour de Geuze: Nice day out, great opportunity to both see some countryside and enjoy the local festivities and beverages (not so great if you were planning to ride your bike, as it rained). Retrospectively though, my all-time favorite is still the Wicked Weed brewery in Ashville, North Carolina. Absolutely fantastic. Sour beers especially, although all others tried were also exceptional. Definitely will visit again if given the opportunity. Not to mention the town is quaint and well worth the visit on its own merit.

Last take on food in Belgium:

Thus far I’ve discovered that eating out is no comparator to eating at home. Unless you are willing to pay the dollars for a finer meal, what you get is average at best. Even paying 25 euro (more than $35 aud) does not a fine meal buy you. It’s disappointing, especially with the Australian dollar to find that your money doesn’t buy you anything worth having. If anything, it’s made it clear that it is highly worthwhile here to eat your meals at home (unlike the U.S., where meals are relatively cheap and delicious when eating out). We have had one meal out that was good (aside from Nuetnigenough – it was actually reasonably priced and delicious), and even then, was probably not worth the money paid for it. Trials of eating out, I guess.

And that’s it for another week! We leave for Ireland very soon!

 

Canals of Bruges

Canals of Bruges

More canals in Bruges.

More canals in Bruges.

Larger than life art in Brussels.

Larger than life art in Brussels.

Lambic beer, ageing gracefully at Boon.

Lambic beer, ageing gracefully at Boon.

Ghent: Historic buildings every which-way.

Ghent: Historic buildings every which-way.

Street art at Ghent. Aptly named "Graffiti St"

Street art at Ghent. Aptly named “Graffiti St”

Graffiti st, Ghent

Graffiti st, Ghent

I'm going to blame that pour on the beer... At Boon.

I’m going to blame that pour on the beer… At Boon.

How time flies…

The Weekly synopsis:

More work as usual, however, this week we made an effort to get out of the house a bit.

During the week we went out to Huy to watch another race, this time with both a men’s and a women’s event being held. Which seems to be pretty unusual, as the ladies always seem to miss out on all the publicity & major events. Thought this one might be worth going to as it had multiple laps involved, which would increase the amount of viewing pleasure from a single location (and we would see the men and women as both were being held concurrently).

We headed in early, so Murray could do a ride around the area and do some of the local climbs. Meanwhile, I explored the street market and checked out some of the buildings in the area. The market had some of the finest looking strawberries I have ever seen, and the artichokes looked more like art than food. And there were fresh rotisserie chickens and waffles and all sorts of things smelling divine and delicious. I would have loved to do some shopping for fresh produce there, but there wasn’t anything we needed (fridge status: already full). Oh well. It was enough to enjoy the sights and smells.

Once Murray was done with his cycling expedition, we watched the race from the finish line at the top of a hill (Which I was most unimpressed about walking up, and these cyclists had to ride up it repeatedly. Poor people). There were plenty of spectators, and the atmosphere was quite festive.

The event had a couple of food vendors, and several vendors selling beer, which was interesting, as no one was selling water. As it was, many spectators had come well prepared, with their own beer and food and chairs etc. It seems to be a common theme, with many Europeans attending these events complete with beverages and snacks. The group near us (of maybe 8 men in their 50’s) had 2 giant esky bins (think 120L fridge sized) which were presumably initially full of beer. By the time we got there, one of the esky bins was being used just for recycling, and was already full with empty beer bottles. They also came toting a shopping bag full of bread and another full of boulettes (belgian meat balls the size of tennis balls). Well prepared, indeed. We weren’t prepared though. So we bought frites (more on frites later).

Unfortunately, despite having a giant screen at the top of the hill, very little of the race was actually being relayed. And the cyclists couldn’t actually be seen as we were at the same level as everybody else. As a result we eventually ditched the race and slowly made our way down the hill again and then off home. We did still see the cyclists several times, but turns out it was much better viewing on the crowded hillside (and then later, on tv).
We also visited the Bluebell Forest in Halle’s Wood. Every year, somewhere in April/May, the bluebells flower in this forest. And they more or less have a monopoly on the ground cover, which makes for quite a spectacular sight. As it is definitely a popular destination, we drove to the second entrance, expecting that there may be many people and that parking might be difficult. Google took us through some seriously dubious cobblestone streets to reach this second entrance to the woods, only to find that the carpark there was full. However, we snapped up the last parking space, and despite the full carpark, there weren’t all that many people in evidence. The forest was indeed very beautiful, and the photos taken really don’t show just how spectacular the blue carpet of flowers were to experience. The flowers continued for what seemed like acres. We enjoyed a bit of a traipse through the forest and despite many signs for deer, saw none. The flowers were more than enough reward.

Saturday:

As we have had a fairly poor hit rate at visiting breweries (very limited opening hours or not open to visitors or within supposed opening hours but definitely not open) we visited the Lambiek Beer Museum, near Beersel. It was interesting, although largely catering for those speaking Flemish. There staff there were very helpful, and had a lot of helpful information regarding successfully visiting some of the lambic breweries in the area in preparation for the Tour De Geuze festival that we are planning on going to next week.. Apparently the one day event draws 10,000 people a year, and as such it is a better idea to visit some of the breweries participating in the days immediately beforehand. They directed us to visit the Brouwerij Fonteinen on our way home, where we received an unexpected impromptu tour from the head brewer. It was very interesting, as brewing sour beer is a bit of a different process to brews produced by normal fermentation methods (uses open-air fermentation to take advantage of special local yeast).

Sunday:

We belatedly discovered that the Zythos Beer Festival was being held over the weekend, and as a result, we visited the expo on Sunday. Apparently it was showcasing over 500 beers, and had something like 100 vendors. There was a lot of beer to be had. And so many styles, even if you don’t think you like beer, you would find something to your taste (ie. ones that are highly unrecognisable as being beer at all. One tasted exactly like carbonated Ribena – DuCassis, I’m looking at you.).

…It was unlike any beer festival I’ve attended before. You paid 10 euro for a starter kit, including a 100ml glass and 8 drink chits (ie. the sample glass costs you 2 euro) and at the end of the day you could return the glass and be refunded 3 euro (seriously, who gives you money at any kind of event?). Also, attendance was free, but you had to pay 2 euro for a toilet pass. Why they didn’t just charge you an entrance fee beats me. It’s not as if you could “optionally” use the toileting facilities.

This was quite a serious event, and many people were armed with pen and paper or journal making tasting notes throughout the day. Various beer appreciation societies were in attendance, with visiting groups having travelled from the England, France, the Netherlands and Germany (and more) to sample the fare. We were attending on the second (and final day) of the event, as as such thought it might be a little quieter. However, as the day went on the exhibition hall filled up steadily by the busload, with mostly people from maybe age late 20’s and upward. Interestingly, I’d say the majority of attendees probably fit in the 45-65 bracket. Which was seriously weird, but makes more sense when you think about this being a serious beer aficionado event. Every stall was even equipped with a bowl of fresh bread broken into bite sized portions. To cleanse the palate, perhaps?

Once again, plenty of people had come prepared with packed lunches and cheese/charcuterie platters, further solidifying the notion that Europeans bring food to all occasions. While we were planning what to try, the neighbour at our table was busily making notes in his beer journal and enjoying a packed sandwich. Others were enjoying cheese cubes dipped in mustard while comparing notes. Which brings me to cheese + mustard. That’s how they were selling it at the kiosk. Not the pairing I would have expected.

At any rate, we had a great time. There was even a free shuttle bus into and out of the city, so it was a great opportunity to see the town of Leuven as well.

More on food in Belgium:

Frites are everywhere. And I have to say, sorry Belgium, but they aren’t great. They are ok. I’d say “nothing to write home about”, but here I am, writing about them. Here, it seems that frites are the celebrated ubiquitous snack of choice, and are apparently meant to represent the pinnacle of enjoyment in the hot chip department. Thus far, every meal we have had out has been served with frites (or the primary option of frites, which you then have to negate or you’ll end up with frites by default). Curry (with frites). Stew (with frites). Mussels (with frites). Asian noodles (with frites). To my mind, these things don’t belong (with frites). And they all seem to be the same frites. Restaurant or friterie, they are uniformly the same bulk prepared straight cut potato chips. Served with a copious amount of mayo. Or one of many, many other sauces (which all also seem to be based on mayo). In a cornet cup. Restaurants are fancier and serve a communal bowl of frites to the table (picture a salad bowl, but full of hot chips). I’ve ordered other sides a few times instead and gotten odd looks. I’ve definitely never seen so many chips in my life. And these “friterie” places are literally everywhere. I’d be curious to see just how much the Belgian population consume in frites per year. …I’m guessing quite a bit.

In my attempt to try new things I have had a crack at cooking rabbit, zebra, poussin and also guinea fowl (as well as regular chicken). Have to say, my experience with cooking poultry here has been better than any I’ve prepared at home (Bianca: the poussin was ridiculously delicious, I may never buy a regular chicken again). The rabbit must have been farmed, as it was soft and tender and not gamey at all (unlike my memories of wild rabbit from home). And exotic meats in general have been tasty (felt more than a bit bad about the zebra steak, but it was delicious). There are also frogs legs, snails, ostrich, horse and bison available in the supermarket and as yet untried… However, I’m not sure just how adventurous I plan to get… Probably won’t get as far as insects, fabulous source of protein though they may be.

Well, I think that’s it for another week. Once, again. A wee bit late (a certain someone was to add commentary and seems to have forgotten about it, so I’m posting it sans-comments). Ireland is just around the corner!
Leuven City Hall

Leuven City Hall

Finer details of the City Hall building. Impressive, yes?

Finer details of the City Hall building. Impressive, yes?

Saint Peter's church, Leuven

Saint Peter’s church, Leuven

The Blue Forest, Halle's Wood

The Blue Forest, Halle’s Wood

Said Bluebell of the Bluebell Forest

Said Bluebell of the Bluebell Forest

Collegiate Church of Huy

Collegiate Church of Huy

Collegiate Church of Huy

Collegiate Church of Huy

Cyclists on their penultimate lap of Huy

Cyclists on their penultimate lap of Huy

The forest near our apartment. It's green!

The forest near our apartment. It’s green!

Missing half it's head... Pouring beverage into said head, while reading a book.  Creepy fountain.

Missing half it’s head… Pouring beverage into said head, while reading a book. Creepy fountain.

Another week at the office.

This Week:

As expected, our week was uneventful. Work etc. The most interesting thing was Murray going on a ride by himself and having multiple flats. Unlucky Murray. Fortunately, he made it home in one piece (eventually).

The Weekend:

So this weekend we drove up to the Netherlands to visit Dr Mark and Rianne in Leiden (about half an hour out of Amsterdam). They may call it the land of windmills, but my overactive imagination had me expecting them here, there and everywhere. Admittedly, there were a lot (and a lot more if you include the wind farms), but most (all?) were of the decommissioned variety. Mostly there for good looks, and for a bit of fun on a Sunday. Novelty purposes only. Apparently they were put in place to keep the water table from flooding everything in sight (since there the groundwater level is so high/country is below sea level) and used to pump water around from A to B. Now I guess they have better methods of managing the water levels, and from what I hear it makes the engineers here quite the masters of water management.

Friday:

We decided that to make the most of the weekend, we had better start a day early. And as such we headed off on Friday morning. On the way, we stopped in at a condemned town called Doel on drive to the Netherlands & spent some time roaming the streets. Apparently the town was scheduled to be demolished in order to expand the docks in the nearby harbour. However, a small contingency of locals refused to leave. And as a result, there is now a town that is (mostly) dead, except for the grizzled few that refuse to go (who keep surprisingly well kept abodes, in the midst of all the shambolic decay around them). The empty houses and streets are now a popular haunt for street artists, and we went to get a good look in the interests of some free entertainment. It was totally well worth the visit, and the graffiti on the whole, was quite good. There was even a few cafes still operational (probably catering to tourists on the weekend perhaps), so it was quite a weird mishmash of both deserted and not…  We saw a total of 7 people during our visit, and they were all also exploring the empty streets and taking photos (or contributing to the local artwork). It was a strange experience. Thanks again to Atlas Obscura, for another good (if odd) place to visit on our travels.

On the drive, we also stopped in at the Hague to check out the beach. It was freezing and windy as, and the sand was making a solid effort at biting holes in our legs. However, we couldn’t go past the prospect of visiting the Bondi Beach cafe, and so we enjoyed the sunshine and water views whilst ensconced behind a wind barrier, making the beach a much more comfortable visit than when we arrived. Good weather for the kite surfers, though, and they were out in force.

Eventually, we arrived in Leiden. Hung out with Dr Mark, Rianne and some of their friends in Leiden for dinner and all in all had a wonderful night out in quite a lovely town.

Saturday:

I explored the local bird sanctuary while Murray went out for a ride with Dr Mark and after we went into Amsterdam via train to do a bit of exploring. Unbelievably, the train pay station a) wouldn’t accept our credit cards to pay for the tickets and b) only took coins. So we had to pay nearly 40 euro in coins, to get our tickets. Needless to say, we didn’t have that sort of coinage, who would? Luckily the local convenience store clerk helped us out, although it felt pretty ridiculous asking for basically AUD $60 in coins (I can only imagine how cranky I’d be if at work if someone asked me for that). Retrospectively, that was quite an expensive train trip, but it was a nice ride through the countryside and it was lovely to see the flower fields from a higher vantage point.

When we arrived, the place was abuzz with thousands of people. As such, we spent the first hour or so more or less wading through a sea of tourists, moving at little over a crawl. It was certainly not quite the kind of experience I was looking for, and so perhaps my first impressions of Amsterdam may have been somewhat tainted by irritation at the sheer numbers of other tourists ambling along at snails pace. I had initially thought it might be nice to visit the Anne Frank museum or another of the many museums in the city, but it was simply way too busy, and any ideas of that sort of thing went right out the window.

As we didn’t have anything we really wanted to see, we spent the afternoon just walking about the town (doing our best not to freeze in the super chilly wind). We satisfied ourselves with checking out the local flower market (more like spring bulbs, not actual flowers) and the many cheese shops (much like the ubiquitous Belgian chocolate shops), and some of the local architecture (which like everywhere else, was mostly in a state of refurbishment).

The centre of town featured a carnival of sorts, with a range of thrill rides with bright flashing lights and noise. I don’t think it was a special event or anything, but it made for a pretty weird experience trying to appreciate the nearby town hall and cathedral whilst also seeing someone get slingshotted by a giant bungy at the same time. It took me several photos to get one without someone on a thrill ride somewhere in the shot.

I didn’t really have any expectations of what Amsterdam city might be like (and didn’t do much research prior to visiting). Turns out that the city is interwoven with canals. How about that. Guess that makes sense with the high groundwater situation. Needless to say, there were multitudes (of tourists) on the river also, exploring the city via canal boats. From what I hear, this is situation normal on the weekend.

It has been interesting to see how different the architecture in the Netherlands is compared to what we have seen in France and Belgium. The Netherlands definitely seems to be much more modern again than Belgium (and Belgium seemed more modern than France). Newer buildings, different building styles, and thousands of bikes. Thousands and thousands of bikes. I suspect everyone owns at least one, if not more bikes per person. And it makes sense, as the infrastructure here is totally focused on making riding a bike a safe and convenient alternative to driving (for people of all ages). Also helps when the land is uber flat. No hills to ride up (or down). Flat as a tack. Which means it is also quite windy (no surprises re. the windmill situation). It was strange walking through the crowded Amsterdam streets having to primarily avoid cyclists rather than cars.

Since it was so busy, we had thought it would be great to find a nice spot in the sun at a cafe, however it turned out to be more difficult than expected. There wasn’t a whole lot of warmth to be had if you weren’t in direct sunlight, and it seemed that every last bit of sunshine was already occupied by the hordes of people at all the cafes in town. We did eventually find a spot, and relaxed and watched the canal boats go by (and tourists, with souvenirs that they had purchased at the nearby public loo?). In the end, we tried to escape the crowds and ended up walking a couple of km out of the city centre to visit a local brewery instead. And the tourists evaporated (along with almost everyone else). We even spent a fair stint walking essentially on empty streets. However, it turned out there was more than a respectable contingency of people at the brewery. So we didn’t stay long. We deliberated over whether to stay in Amsterdam or just go home, since it seemed the day would have been better spent exploring the lovely local town of Leiden (where we were staying) instead. We voted to stay longer (as it was a pricey trip out) and eventually ended our day with dinner at a Himalayan restaurant and made our way home. Retrospectively, we probably should have visited Amsterdam on a weekday & perhaps we would have escaped the bedlam in town. Note to self: do touristy stuff on days not including the weekend, as masses of tourists can really stuff up your day.

Sunday:

Sunday was spent making our way home, with the first stop being the Keukenhof gardens. Every year from March to May the gardens present a spectacular display of spring bulbs, forming the second largest expo of its kind in the world. It was certainly epic, with more tulips, hyacinth, & daffodils than I have ever seen in one place. On top of that they had many other flowers on display, and it all got a bit overwhelming. Not to mention that this was also a tourist trap (clearly didn’t pay enough attention to that previous note to self). Bus loads upon bus loads of tourists were there (and we had arrived relatively early). When we eventually left, the traffic outside the entrance was utterly ridiculous. People endeavouring to go to visit the gardens essentially caused almost complete standstill to the traffic. Too bad if you weren’t planning on visiting the garden and just got stuck in it, because the traffic was backed up for kilometres. Epic traffic fail. Although maybe not so bad as some article I read about someone running out of petty in the Indooroopilly Westfield car park the other day because the exits get clogged with traffic on Sundays. Seriously?

On the way home, Murray took me to see some of the countryside that he had gone riding through, and the small towns and canals were stunning to see. Some areas are more affected by the high water table than others, and as a result there are places where many of the houses are completely surrounded by water, and accessible only via a small bridge to the property. It’s so beautiful. Many properties are not only surrounded by water, but also back onto a lake (lucky sods, they all get their own island to live on). Bit of a different take on the term “absolute waterfront”.

We visited the Brouwerij De Molen (The Mill) brewery for lunch on the way home, and I think this may have been the highlight of the weekend for Murray. Plenty of sour beer to find in their bottle shop (in the Netherlands, still), which has been a refreshing change from our experience thus far (it’s actually been much harder to find sour beer than expected, given that the area we are living in is the home of sour beer). We then visited 2 more breweries on the way home (three if you count the one that had already closed for the day), since it seems this whole countryside is riddled with them. It was interesting to have a sticky beak at the local breweries, and it was a shame that we missed going on a tour of the Trappist brewery that we visited. It is beyond strange to think that a major source of the finest beers produced are prepared by monks in an abbey in this day and age.

Finally we made it home. Thank goodness. Another road trip done and dusted and still in one piece.
street art at Doel

street art at Doel

street art at Doel

street art at Doel

more art...

more art…

and more..

and more..

..and more

..and more

Windmill. Operated only on Sundays.

Windmill. Operated only on Sundays.

nature reserve for birds. primary occupant: geese.

nature reserve for birds. primary occupant: geese.

said geese. with goslings (just a few of the hundreds there)

said geese. with goslings (just a few of the hundreds there)

at the Bondi Beach Cafe

at the Bondi Beach Cafe, escaping the epic wind

Hard to see, but it's a swamp hen, nesting on a carefully collected bundle of rubbish.

Hard to see, but it’s a swamp hen, nesting on a carefully collected bundle of rubbish.

enjoying a hard earned beverage at probably the only available seat in the sun in Amsterdam

enjoying a hard earned beverage at probably the only available seat in the sun in Amsterdam

View from the train

View from the train

At the tulip expo

At the tulip expo

Keukenhoff gardens

Keukenhoff gardens, before the crowds.

Lots of tulips

Lots of tulips

My personal favourite.

My personal favourite.

Even the church gets its own island

Even the church gets its own island

 

Murray = kid in a candy store

Murray = kid in a candy store @ De Molen