2760hrs

The Honeymoon’s Over

2008-02-11T21:09:00.000+10:00

They say that all good things must come to an end and I can safely say that 4 months tripping around Europe and North America has certainly been good, to say the least. The return trip was long, with a 3 hour bus ride from Whistler to Vancouver, a 90 minute flight to San Francisco and a 2 hour wait at the airport to get back on the plane and fly another 13 hours to Sydney. Then it was collect the luggage, make it through customs, catch a bus to the domestic terminal to get a flight to Brisbane. Needless to say we were both tired by the time we landed, but walking out of the gate and being smothered with hugs and kisses by our nearest and dearest refueled our batteries like nothing else could. Then it was off home for drinks on the deck and it was amazing how easy it was to slip back into that routine after so long.

It’s been three weeks, however, since then, and whilst the first week was great catching up with everyone and getting back in to the Australian lifestyle via a relaxing long weekend away. It was also nice to be able to unpack and know that I wouldn’t have to be packing it all up again in the next couple of days, but I must own to being a little sad. When we were away it was James who suffered from homesickness, whilst I was practically in tears at the thought of having to return to the humdrum of work and everyday life. And I must admit that coming home has been hard. After 16 weeks of soundproof rooms and blockout blinds it was difficult to sleep with the sound of birds twittering, and the once familiar sound of Kookaburras laughing, at the break of dawn. Difficult, too, was it to sleep to my accustomed 8-9am when the sun, with undeniable rudeness, pushed its way through the chinks in the blinds at 5am.

However, the most difficult of all has been returning to a job that I love, but without the usual excitement of starting a new year and looking forward to the experiences it customarily brings. Somehow, I find it difficult to reconcile the fact that whatever new experiences this year may bring at school, they will be nothing compared to the ones I have just had. So I have set my screensaver to randomly cycle through the 1800 odd photos we took in a bid to hold on to that wonderful feeling that I desperately don’t want to lose. It certainly is nice to be able to look up from the chaos of my desk and be reminded that life is not all about work (and even though I have told myself this many times in the past, anyone who knows me will know that I find it very difficult to disconnect myself from what I do and, therefore, life often was about work) and I am determined to make this my new mantra.

It’s funny how these 4 months gone have brought me so much more than I expected, and I think James was right when he said that it would either make us or break us. At times we felt close to breaking point, but being alone together, with no where really to run to when the tension rose, also forced us to deal with each other - and our own short comings – and did bring us closer to each other and a better understanding of our relationship. But whilst the honeymoon is over I will not see this as a negative, despite the fact that it means the government is no longer paying for me to be a permanent tourist. Instead, I look at it as the start of a whole new adventure, albeit a little more domestic in tone, and like Mother Superior wisely commented, “When God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window”. Somehow, however, I think it will be me who ends up shoving open the window; and I always keep a spare key handy so I can fling open the damn door!

Whistler a Happy Tune

2008-01-11T11:57:00.000+10:00

Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to ski we go, and so far, yes that’s what we’ve done. We’ve hit the slopes (both figuratively and literally) and hit them hard. We have had 7 days skiing so far and there are 5 more to go; today is our one day off and believe me we need it. After checking in we headed out to collect our gear and went to bed nice and early so that we could better cope with having to get up at some god awful hour of the morning: 7am! We woke up to snow drifting past the window and it really hasn’t stopped since.

Our first day on the slopes was spent back at school, with James in boarding school and me in ski school and, for the first time in 100 days, we did not see each other until school let out at 3pm. Yes, that’s right, for 100 days we have pretty much been together 24/7 and, whilst it has provided for some interesting moments, this was the first time we had “news” to share with each other. The short version goes like this: James – I spent most of the morning on my ass but have discovered that I’m an ambi-turner! Me – told them I was level 3 and ended up on the magic carpet; what the hell?! Was promoted to a new instructor who said I was level 4 and needed to go to a different school up the slopes. Hooray! I get to play with the big kids!

Day 2 of the lessons went like this: James – I can link my turns and safely navigate green slopes. I’ve been promoted up to level 4 and can play on the upper slopes with the big kids too! Me – I have gone from top of the class to bottom of the class. I hate skiing and my legs hurt. Anna, I know exactly how you felt on your last ski trip and am desperately depressed. Poxy skiing.

It was this attitude that led to us spending our third day on the slopes by ourselves; James showing just how clever he was going from level 1 to 4 in 2 days and me trying to regain my confidence. We also had our first ever experience of skiing powder and had much fun falling over in it. The next day - our last day of ski school - was a more positive one for us both, with James boarding at upper level 4 and me being much happier in my new class with my new friends.

Since then we have explored lots of blue runs on Whistler and Blackcomb mountains and absolutely love the skiing. James is even keen to try some bowls, I’m not so sure, but one thing we both agree on is that we can’t get over how much snow there is, both in the village and on the mountains, and how much we are loving it here.

Some people might think that getting up early and throwing yourself down a mountain time and time again knowing that you’re going to come down covered with bruises and every muscle in your body aching is no kind of way to spend the end of your honeymoon. But we think it is perfect. Anyway, yesterday was James’ birthday so we took the afternoon off and went out for drinks and had the most expensive dinner of our lives so it is not all work, work, work. But let’s not mention that word, because it only reminds me that it’s just around the corner and I’ll have to change my tune to hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work we go…but not just yet!

The Big Apple…devoured

2008-01-02T13:17:00.000+10:00

New York is such an iconic place and we have both seen it countless times on TV and in the movies, but actually being there is another thing altogether and I don’t think I will ever view it in the same way again. I had every intention of writing 2 entries whilst in the city that never sleeps – one half way through our 7 day stay and one at the end just before we flew out – but never seemed to be able to find the time to do so. Somehow, there always seemed something better to do, and I hope you will forgive me for the lack of information then, and for the overabundance of it now.

As we flew in to JFK I kept craning my neck to get my first glimpse of the skyline and the steel jungle that is Manhattan, but it managed to elude us until we were about 5 minutes away from it in the cab. After checking in to our hotel on West 47th St between 6th and 7th Ave (Times Square) we set off to explore midtown and Hell’s Kitchen, where we ended up in a sports bar watching NFL, eating potato skins and drinking local beer. After 12 weeks in Europe we were both looking forward to sampling well known American cuisine and, believe me, there was no shortage of choice or amount. We have had hotdogs and a big pretzel, baby back ribs, cheesecake, pizza, waffles, pancakes, cheeseburger and fries, ‘slaw, Boston cream pie, home fries and coffee (although it was purely for the caffeine, not the taste!). Since our time in the Big Apple I have had some of my preconceptions (predominantly negative I will admit) about Americans shattered: they are very friendly and not rude at all, on the whole; they are far more generous in giving change to people on the street; they have a sense of humour. However, when it comes to food it was all that I thought: there’s far too much of it given to you; there is far too much of it consumed; there is far too much of it thrown away.

It’s a strange place, New York, but one which I have come to love through the people we have met and the things we have seen and done. Our first day was spent Christmas shopping in Macy’s and checking out the tree and ice skaters at Rockerfeller Center. The next day was Christmas and we spent it in Central Park with every other tourist and local who had come out to take advantage of the perfect weather: blue skies, relatively warm temperature and crisp air. We walked through the Ramble where we saw squirrels in abundance and past the boathouse restaurant up to the Jackie O Reservoir and back through Strawberry Fields. We then had a roast turkey lunch at the Galaxy Diner in Hell’s Kitchen where we met these 2 guys who told us about Junior’s cheesecake which is definitely worth the wait to get a table.

A trip to the American Museum of Natural History followed on Boxing Day and it was by far the most crowded place we have been on the trip. Everyone and their child was there checking out the incredible displays and it was worse than Grand Central Station, literally. We had an early dinner at John’s Pizza, one of the top 10 pizza places in the U.S. before heading out to a Broadway play – Cyrano de Bergerac – starring Kevin Kline and Jennifer Garner. Yes, that’s right, we saw famous people in the flesh, on Broadway, and only had to pay ½ price for the tickets because we bought them that afternoon. It was rather surreal to be sitting there listening to Kline deliver perfectly timed lines and it wasn’t until walking home on Broadway that it actually hit me why they were called Broadway shows and that we were staying right in the middle of them. Yes, I know, as James has commented several times to me on this trip, for someone who can be so intelligent, I am so stupid.

Anyway, to continue the list of “things we’ve done, places we’ve seen” we rode the Stanton Island ferry and saw the Statue of Liberty, whose size can only be appreciated when people are standing next to it; we walked down Wall St and across the Brooklyn Bridge and back; we visited Ground Zero, although the visual impact of what is no longer there was far more obvious from the break in the skyline when looking back from the top of the Empire State Building; we visited the U.N. and toured the Security Council Chamber, which looked like the war room in the Peter Seller’s movie Dr Strangelove with its outdated, but still used, décor and technology and we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and added even more names to our already long list of famous artists.

Needless to say we did not have any difficulty in filling the 7 days we had there and when it came time to leave, we could not believe that the week had gone so quickly. It may have been difficult to get in to the Big Apple – security checks before checking in at Paris, as well as after, bag searches, having our fingerprints and photo taken as well as signing a declaration that agreed to giving up our right to appeal if refused entry for any reason they deemed reasonable – but the opportunity to take a bite out of it was one we are glad to have had, and one we devoured with relish! There only remains one more leg of our “ridiculously long honeymoon” to quote my beloved, and much missed, sister, and with any luck we will manage to keep both of our legs in one piece. We leave tomorrow for Whistler, after 2 restful days in Vancouver and a quiet ringing in of the New Year. The snow reports are promising: 200 out of 200 runs open and 1.8 metres of snow, with more to come. We are looking forward to seeing snow again and feeling the rush of icy wind on our faces as we swoosh down the slopes. Sorry, that’s me, as James will more likely be feeling the rush of icy snow IN his face and sliding down the slopes on his bum, as he has decided to try boarding. If you’re still reading, then thank you for your perseverance and patience. We hope you had a wonderful Christmas, and we wish you all the best for the New Year. I will keep you posted over the next 2 weeks re our skiing exploits and James’ progress as a boarding dude.

PS Since James lost his phone somewhere in the marshland of Carmague, we have been relying on mine. However, apparently my phone is not compatible with North American networks, so if you need to contact us then email is the best bet or if there is an emergency you can contact us at Delta Whistler Village Suites, 4308 Main St Whistler, ph 001116049386510.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

2007-12-25T10:00:00.000+10:00

This song has always conjured up images of sipping hot chocolate and cosy carriage rides across a landscape of rolling hills blanketed by glistening snow. These, however, are not the things we have experienced. COLD, FREEZING, MY TOES FEEL LIKE THEY ARE GOING TO SNAP OFF, these have become the constants as of late. It’s funny but the Alps were cold, and of course we expected them to be, but what we didn’t expect was that the Loire would be even colder. The last time we drove through this region we were in short sleeved shirts, but we now we wake up to -50 C at 9.30am and scrape the ice off the car windscreen and windows.

Yet even such cold conditions could not deter us from the main purpose of our return: Chenonceau, Chateau des Dames. We rugged up, left the warmth of our final B and B in Orbigny and drove the short distance to the chateau. I have only ever seen pictures of Chenonceau in spring/summer when the gardens are in full flower, so it was with a sense of trepidation that I approached from the car park. Yes it was cold, and the trees that lined the path up to the castle had lost all of their leaves and the canal had even iced over in sections, but there was beauty everywhere to be found. The rest of our time in the Loire was spent watching ice sculptures being carved and sipping hot wine at Christmas markets or enjoying the wonderful food and conversation offered up by our fabulous hosts Denis and Laure.

From here it was north to Amiens for the night in order to visit the Australian War Memorial outside of Villers-Bretennoux. Again it was cold, with the frost crunching under our feet as we walked alongside the graves, but this time it merely served to remind us of how lucky we were to have the car heating to return to and not the cold, wet conditions of the trenches faced by the men who fought and died there during WWI. It was difficult to believe that such a peaceful and beautiful landscape was once filled with so much death and destruction.

The last of our 86 days in Europe were spent back where they began, in Paris. This time, however, we stayed in Montmatre, and took full advantage of its relative height by watching the sun set over the city from Sacre Coeur and wandering around the square where so many famous artists have been inspired. We also caught the metro to the Eiffel Tower and walked down the Champs Elysee at night and enjoyed the Christmas lights in the trees. Speaking of which, the big day is almost here and we will be enjoying it in New York; we are both very excited at beginning the next part of our adventure but are not looking forward to replacing espressos with American coffee. Despite the differences in language and customs, Europe has become what we do and there is no doubt that we will both miss it.

The final 4 and the first of the 10

2007-12-14T20:51:00.000+10:00

Well, the umbrellas are still intact but Tuscany has managed to elude us again. For both of our two days here it has rained pretty much nonstop, meaning that our forays into Siena have predominantly been either short lived, or indoors drinking more wine and eating more pasta and pizza. In fact, as the end of our Italian leg has drawn closer over these final four days, we have been indulging more and more in any opportunity to eat and drink as much Italian fare as we can fit in. This has resulted in not only our pants getting tighter - I keep trying to convince us both that it is just the fact that they have been through an industrial strength dryer – but quite a few memorable meals.

The first of these was in Siena, on our last night there, where, concerned about avoiding another Firenze situation where we needed to book and that this was listed as the best restaurant in Siena, we had dutifully made a reservation the night before. And we were so glad that we had, given that we were the only people there! Sure it was a Sunday night, but best restaurant and all that…Anyway, needless to say the service was excellent, our conversation was not interrupted (yes, believe or not, we have as yet to run out of things to say to each other) and the food was incredible; best rabbit of the trip and spinach that Popeye would have given his pipe to eat. The only downside was when our evening was rudely interrupted by another couple muscling in on what we considered (and rightly so given that we were the sole occupants) to be our restaurant. Luckily, we were then distracted by the arrival of tiramisu and panacotta and were too overcome to care.

The last of these wonderful meals was in Porto Venere, just west of La Spezia and south of Cinque Terre. It was to be our last day in Italy and we could not have asked for a better one. The houses were brightly coloured, and appeared even more so against a backdrop of bright blue sky which that merged into the green of the ocean. We ended up at a little osteria, run by this Italian guy and his mamma, who cooked up the wonderful food which we ate: the best ever anchovies (James) and spaghetti with pesto (Sharie). The atmosphere was as unique as the food, as it was low ceilinged, set with wooden benches and frequented by local fishermen. The grappa was not the best, but I managed to take the focus off of that by inadvertently making a rather large gaffe. Let’s just say that the response of the guy who ran the place was this: “He’s not my father, he’s my friend!” and that his mamma found it very funny, as did the other Italians who came up to pay their bill, upon being told by the guy who ran the osteria what I had said. Oh well, I’ll just chalk it up to a language issue and resolve myself to no longer ever being able to live there, as planned earlier in the day when I was not “the girl who thought…”.

The next day we left Italy and entered France for the third, and final, time via the Frejus Tunnel (yes mum, we know that’s what you suggested). We were slightly nervous as the temperature plummeted and registered 00C at one point and our car warned us of the possibility of ice. However, in the end, the only thing we had to be scared of was the cost: we went through 6 tolls and ended up paying 71 euros ($125) to do so. But on leaving the Frejus and emerging from the darkness into the light we gasped at how beautiful, and dramatic, it was. On entering the tunnel on the Italian side there was quite a bit of snow, but on the French side it was a blanket of white; there were pine trees whose branches were fully laden with the stuff all the way down the mountains right to the edge of the road. We are currently in La Bridoire, close to Chambery, and yesterday drove to Annecy - very picturesque town on a lake with a fabulous view of the Alps – and are getting used to the car’s warnings of ice and seeing it register -10C.

We have now organized all of our accommodation between here and our departure from Paris on the 23rd, which is a little sad as it brings home the reality of the end of Europe, for this time anyway. But at the same time we are also a little bit excited - James especially – at the thought of New York and Canada. Until then, we still have 9 days left in France and are going to make the most of every one. It is amazing how much we have missed France, even though we keep passing through it. Perhaps it is because it now feels familiar, or because even though the roads are expensive, we can find our way around them! But then again, there’s the people, the food, the wine, the croissants, the pastry, the cheese…

Roman Holliday

2007-12-09T22:34:00.000+10:00

It’s really hard, sitting in Siena, only 2 days after leaving Rome, to write about it. So much was seen, and so much experienced, that it feels not only like Rome was several weeks ago, but that separating everything into single events is impossible. Nonetheless, I will try, albeit a little haphazardly.

Our first real look at Rome was by night, and was the Colosseum, or as we later learned the Flavian Amphitheatre. We were only 3 stops from there and so it seemed the logical place to go and get a feel for the city and have our first meal. Walking out of the metro and seeing this iconic edifice sitting right there in front of you was a little unnerving. Although, after a brief circumnavigation, wine and pasta I began to feel that I was going to love the place. For those who don’t know, I am the Modern History teacher, and although any history is good history as far as I am concerned, my knowledge of the sights we would be seeing was not as extensive as James’ and so I was a little more apprehensive of how I would feel about the city.

We had set aside 5 days to see the eternal city, feeling that any less would hardly do it justice, but even so, by the end, we were exhausted. I could list all of the monuments, archaeological treasures and buildings we saw, but there would be little point, as it would be just that, a list. What I will do, instead, is give you an overview of the “best”, according to each of us. For James it was the Colosseum. The sheer size of the thing (seating 50-60 000 depending on who you believe, and believe me, there are people willing to have you pay them to do so at every turn) and the imagination that it provokes, of the gladiatorial fights (not chariot races, I learned, that’s at Circus Maximus – always knew that Russell Crowe was crap) its iconic form and the labyrinth city underneath the wooden floor where slaves worked to provide the required spectacle demanded by a Roman audience.

For me it was the Vatican museum. We have certainly seen our fair share, and more, of art and sculpture on this trip, and at times it feels like it is all too much to take in. But the Vatican amazed me with not only the size of its collection, and the range – from Egyptian mummies to Salvador Dalis – but the fact that they expected you to see it in only 4 hours, if you were there from opening to closing; apparently that’s enough time in winter. So we were there at opening and were still there, taking our second look at the Sistine chapel, when they shut up shop, literally, and we were told to leave the chapel. What struck me about the Sistine chapel is that although I’ve seen the ceiling so many times before in books, I had not quite realized just how big the space is, or how overwhelming the images are. I felt a little bombarded by them and their colours, and even when the chapel was almost empty and we were pretty much the last people in there as they were herding the tourists out, I still felt that there were too many figures in the room.

Other than that what really sticks with us at this point is how good the weather was, especially compared to now, when it is raining. We had blue skies every day and the only catastrophe was when the digital camera decided not to turn on when we went to Palantine Hill and we were forced to go old school and rely on memory for visuals – funny how you don’t really realize how much you depend on the camera until the battery dies! We were also very excited to discover that Venice is in the grip of flood and hooray for us for deciding to see it first, rather than last, as we would have needed gum boots to see anything. However, we better not crow too loudly, in case the rain doesn’t let up and we have to suffer it for the next two weeks, as I’m not sure that our Florence umbrellas will last that long!

The big V… and me

2007-12-07T04:12:00.000+10:00

Mt Vesuvius is big! Really big. And still active. It dominates the Bay of Naples and was easily visible from 60km away as we approached from the north towards Campania. It was an eagerly anticipated part of the trip for me as I felt that I had been here so many times before (Google Earth is a beautiful thing) and, as a teacher, it was topic of the first lesson I ever designed. A’lora, as we entered the outskirts of Naples, Vesuvius loomed ominously against the blue sky before us, I was imagining the death and destruction it had rained down upon Pompeii and Herculaneum (Ercolano).

It wasn’t till the next morning, after frantically trying to find a Meteo report on Italian television (not an easy thing to do), did we discover that it was predicted to rain heavily for the next two days. We had prepared ourselves for such an occurrence with allowing extra time and had our recently purchased, slightly dodgy umbrellas from Florence, and Sharie had her emergency poncho! We decided to take the risk that the weather would improve and set out for the National Archaeological Museum of Naples.

Napoli is a sea of humanity: it pushes and shoves and feels rather intimidating. Cars constantly honk horns, piles of rubbish and the detritus of city life line the streets (as does virtually everywhere else in Campania) and hordes of people, even in the pouring rain, rush down narrow alleyways where all forms of merchandise are pushed towards you. It was with some relief that we found the museum, a peaceful place in stark contrast to its surroundings. The museum houses some of the most recognizable artifacts left after the Vesuvius eruption, including the mosaic of the Alexander the Great from the House of the Faun. Amazing! Over one million pieces went into making that mosaic alone. And there were rooms of the stuff! There was even a special adults only room, The Secret Room, which housed a collection of erotic art. A particular cardinal’s collection was very interesting.

On our second day, with the rain easing, we headed towards Pompeii. Vesuvius was still obscured from sight by low level clouds and I was beginning to fear that our first sighting in the car would be our only viewing. It drizzled on and off for the first three hours, but it only seemed to add to our visit. It was easy to see why large stones had been placed regularly across streets because we needed to use them at times to avoid the pooling water. We saw the Villa of Secrets, House of the Faun, Lupinarium with interesting anatomical paintings, the Stabian Baths and so much more. We wandered the streets for seven hours and could have easily spent the same amount of time again and not seen everything. We were rewarded for our perseverance in the last hour when the sun came out and Vesuvius was revealed. The sun glistening on the wet cobbled streets and light on the walls of the ancient city is a moment I will remember forever.

On our final day in Campania, we drove the Amalfi coast and attempted to scale Mt Vesuvius. The former was beautiful and remarkably blue. We stopped on several occasions, both legally and Italian style (pull over wherever you want and put you hazard lights on). The drive is a thrilling rollercoaster with twisting bends, blind corners and long straights with majestic views. The latter, the scaling Vesuvius, was a frustrating experience of poorly signed directions, horribly potted and dangerous roads and a depressing and decaying human landscape. On arriving to the entry point to the Vesuvius park we found the road closed a quarter of the way to the summit. In the end, Vesuvius was bigger than both of us, not surprising really, as its bigger than everything else around here.

A vow of poverty, sort of…

2007-12-04T01:50:00.000+10:00

Ahh, Assisi. Good old St Francis and his help the poor, live the simple life (who knew he would predict a hit series??), don’t focus on worldly possessions and take time to contemplate. Yes, that sounds like what we need: we’ve spent all our money on leather goods in Florence, so that makes us poor and perhaps we will now qualify for help; we like the simple life and getting away from the rat race, surely our commitment to stay away from it for 4 months proves that. Not focus on worldly possessions? Sure, we’ve stayed in one star accommodation so clearly we are not that obsessed. Contemplation? That sounds nice and relaxing, especially while watching the sunset over the valley.

And that’s exactly what we did, to some degree, anyway. We did watch the sun set over the valley and watch it turn to mist on both of the nights that we were there and it provided a much needed balm for us both. We walked down to the Basilica di S. Francesco twice – once at night and once in the morning – and even sat through mass. (Yes, this is very unlike us but this is how it went: the previous night I had confessed that I had a secret desire to go to a mass – please note that this is after several drinks - and while we were at the Basilica the next morning, we went to the crypt to view St Francis’ tomb and whilst there one started. By the time I realized what was going on, they were in the middle of praying and next thing you know we end up sitting through a very weird experience, as the mass was given by an American, to a group of Americans, who seemed to be on some kind of religious tour.)

So yes, we contemplated, we relaxed and we REALLY planned on invoking a vow of poverty, but we didn’t, and this is how IT went: on our walk down to the Basilica at night we noticed a sign that read, “If you are interested in trying the best balsamic and olive oil, come in, if you are interested in the cheapest, please don’t.” Of course, being interested in both, we went in and discovered that the guy was not lying. And not only that, but that he ships all over the world and had just sent a crate to Toowong (we even saw the receipt to prove it) and if some rich guy in Toowong has it shipped to him, well that’s good enough for us. Next thing you know, we’re contemplating weight and thanking god that we get an extra 10 kilos when entering and exiting the U.S. and before you know it we’ve spent the equivalent of one night’s accommodation on condiments. So much for that poverty thing.

What have we learned from this? Well, the fact that the Basilica was directly involved in EACH of these strange occurrences reinforces what we both believe: religion makes you do funny things and contrary to popular belief (ie what we were hoping to believe) places where men walk around in brown robes taking vows of poverty does NOT necessarily mean that it will rub off onto you.

Next was (yes, this entry is about a week behind because frankly we have been far too busy seeing things) Napoli, Sorrento and Pompei, but James is writing that one, and will be posted soon. Then Roma and beyond!

PS Toby – St Francis may have taken a vow of poverty but he clearly enjoyed a drink now and again; mission accomplished. Pray we don’t get thirsty!

Under the Tuscan clouds!

2007-11-28T04:28:00.000+10:00

We have been extremely blessed on this trip with the weather, waking up many a morning in Spain, France and Portugal to exclaim, “Damn, blue skies again!” and having it actually rain on only 1 day which, coincidentally, was the day on which we had decided to not really do anything except plan where we were going to go in Spain and Portugal. But like that stupid song we keep hearing on MTV - the only English TV channel we can get in Italy and very repetitive we have discovered – “…don’t ya know that all good things come to an end”. Yes, the Tuscan sun tried to shine, but the clouds kept it obscured for all of the 4 days we were there, and it even rained for half a day and interrupted our plans for the first time ever. Yes, even we have our problems, too!

However, we have tackled our problems head on in Firenze and have managed to overcome them quite well:

•Too much to see and budget a concern? Then stay in one star accommodation and save money by walking to all the major attractions.
•Discover after booking your accommodation that you have to pay almost half of your accommodation cost again to park your car? Console yourself by drinking copious amounts of red wine.
•Cigarette smell permeated all of your clothes? Go and buy some new leather accessories – jacket, boots, gloves – to cover it up.
•Rain going to ruin new jacket and boots? Buy a collapsible, but stylish, umbrella from the markets and then watch the clouds part and the sun come out.
•Having difficulties understanding the language? Go to the Accademia and listen to the female museum officials yelling, “no phooootoooos” at everyone trying to take photos of David. Included is the added bonus of watching everyone then casually standing in front of said statue pretending to admire a painting that can clearly not compete whilst their partner is surreptitiously taking photos.
•Not made a booking at a restaurant suggested in guide books because it’s off season and a Thursday? Make a reservation the next day for the following night and then walk confidently in to end up sharing your table with a man from Uruguay who orders, and then sends back, what you end up ordering but did not realize because you don’t speak Italian. (PS it was roast lamb, as suggested in the books and for which the restaurant is known, which he thought didn’t have enough meat on it and was the best lamb we have EVER had; he ended up having pasta.)
•Feeling a little podgy from all of the food and wine and lack of “serious” exercise? Take part in the Firenze marathon, which is being run in your street, by cheering on the leader whilst drinking your hot chocolate and eating your pastry. Then walk up the hill to Piazzle Michelangelo (where they started the marathon) and feel like you have run it yourself.
•Feeling lost amongst all of the fabulous art and sculpture? Walk up the 463 steps of the Duomo (“there is no lift” the sign proclaims before you begin) and marvel at not only the fact that you made it without having a coronary, but that you are actually smack bang in the middle of the most incredible period of art you have ever seen. And that hell is actually up, not down, according to Vassari and his frescoes on the Dome ceiling.

Florence may have always been a sun drenched landscape in my mind; but from now on, it is a city that has to be experienced from within, but must be seen from above, and remembered for its red tiled roofs emerging from the swirling mist.

Venezia - perfect one day, flooding the next

2007-11-24T03:23:00.000+10:00

Our first impression of Italy was not a positive one: a long drive through the industrial north under overcast skies. However, after successfully catching the train in to la Serissima (yes Brian the ticket machine is STILL broken, but found out that you can buy tickets at the restaurant next to it, but beware that it is not open every morning and we also had a ticketless, stressed ride in one morning where we couldn’t discover the conductor even after going to the front, as per your instructions, but thank god we didn’t get fined!) all negative thoughts were replaced by the surreal experience of standing on the Grand Canal after being in France 24 hours earlier.

Condensed thoughts on Venice:
1.Really cold – the coldest days we have had yet, including the Pyrenees. Yet even this did not seem to deter the number of people visiting.
2.Much more confusing than Toledo but getting lost was part of the enjoyment and not as tiring as it is flat, not steep.
3.Glad it did not rain, or was not in flood as feared, (although planking stacked everywhere for such an occurrence) but too many bloody pigeons and stupid tourists encouraging them by spending money to feed them.
4.Expensive, by far the most expensive city we have been in, and the most expensive drinks we have ever had in our lives - $35Aus Gin and Tonic at Harry’s Bar, but then if it’s good enough for Hemingway and Capote, it’s good enough for me!- but the Basilica (had to pay to see the bronze horses) and the Doge’s Palace are well worth the money. Margot you would have needed to spend hours at the chiropractor after staring up at the mosaics.
5.Our trip down the Grand Canal from San Zaccaria to Ferrovia, at sunset, after our day out at Murano was better than any gondola ride could ever be.
6.Physically bigger than expected and near impossible to explore thoroughly.
7.Far too many American tourists wandering the streets and exclaiming loudly at every little thing; cruise ships should really be banned from docking at Venice.

And whilst these all sound predominantly negative, our experience there was far from it. It is certainly the most unique and surprising city we have been in, or are likely to see on this trip, and as I stood there taking my last look at the canal before catching the train back out to Mira to leave for Florence the next morning, I was loathe to leave it and felt that 4 days was not enough.

The only other point worthy of note is with regards to my hair. Yes, it’s true, I’m not naturally this blonde and despite James’ comments that “roots don’t look tacky” dying it was the easiest option – despite the fact that I haven’t actually done it myself since I was 18 when I realized that there is a reason you pay professionals to do it for you. Besides, this way I can better blend in with all of the other dark haired Italian beauties! The only problem with this is that, according to James, my hair is purple. Must text hairdresser for immediate appointment on return!

Sharie: “French women don’t get fat; please let that apply to Australian ones, too.” James: “I can take up smoking instead.”

2007-11-15T22:17:00.000+10:00

“Well, this is why we came to the south of France,” we keep telling each other when the topic of money, food and I-can’t-keep-eating comes up. We love France, don’t get me wrong, we missed the set menu:
1.It’s actually cheaper to eat 3 courses than order 2 of the same dishes from the menu.
2.It generally includes wine and bread, unlike the damn Portuguese and Spanish who gave you bread then charged you for it, even though it wasn’t on the menu, or you didn’t even order it because you learnt the trick about them bringing you food you didn’t order and then charging you later because it WAS on the menu.
3.Can’t get enough of the French food, even wine from the supermarket is good, and cheap, so the more the merrier
BUT
1.I can’t eat 3 course meals for lunch and dinner, even if it is cheaper.
2.It’s really hard to justify, “it’s only 3 euros more” when if we keep spending money the way we are we will have to starve ourselves when we get to Italy and frankly, there is too much there we want to eat.
3.If we keep eating our way through the south of France then we WILL have to starve ourselves in Italy because we won’t be able to fit into any of our clothes and we won’t have any money to buy new ones because we spent it all in Provence and then we will not be able to see Italy except from the window of our hotel room because we will be too scared to show our fattyboombalada selves in front of the fashion conscious Italians.

3 days later…

Well, we alternated between self imposed starvation (only because we had a 3 course lunch and couldn’t eat dinner, or because we had a 2 course dinner followed by a breakfast where our B and B host kept serving dessert with breakfast and couldn’t eat lunch). I swear that the reason French women don’t get fat is because they’re not eating crème caramel, bread and butter pudding, fig tart and some strawberry and raspberry compote - which sounds healthy but when you factor in the syrup that came with it really isn’t - for breakfast along with pain au chocolate, homemade bread, croissants and bowls of coffee. What made it worse was that for the first time since being on the trip we have been confronted with a set of bathroom scales…bloody French trying to rub it in no doubt. Needless to say we may have weighed ourselves on arrival just to see how many kilos we have gained before Provence – that detail will not be revealed! - but were too scared to weigh in at the end. Despite the continuing winds (80-100kms per hour) and stretched bellies, Provence is a landscape of what we imagined rural France was once all like: slow paced, ramshackled buildings, tree lined thoroughfares and open fields.

Was also surprised to discover that it is the home of French cowboys and drove to Carmague to see them, on their black and white horses, and the bulls.
Unfortunately: saw lots of the black and white horses, but no cowboys, the only people we saw riding the horses was a tourist and their guide; bulls and flamingoes won’t come close, even if you call them; 80-100kms winds are REALLY cold when you are walking in marshes next to the beach and your ears hurt because your hat doesn’t protect you from them; James lost his phone somewhere on the beach, or in the wetlands, so if you need to text us do so through Sharie and if you don’t have my number email James or me and we will send it to you. James, of course, is taking the loss badly: wireless won’t work, my computer is too slow, no phone, his “pluggedineness” is now basically non existent. I’ve told him that perhaps it is a good thing not to be so dependent on technology and that maybe this is all just fate, but he just gives me a withering look. Despite this, have decided that upon retirement (b/c let’s face it we will be too poor to do it before then) we must come back to Provence and see it in all its glories during summer.

At point of writing, we are now in Menton, on the French side of the Italian border. We drove along the Cote d’Azur, through Nice, and stopped at Villefranche-sur-mer for a wander and lunch. The winds dropped, the sun shone and the French Riviera was everything I had dreamed it would be. The Alps come right down to the sea, and expensive houses cling to their sides while the gleaming white of boats moored off shore, too costly to contemplate, contrasted sharply with the brilliant blue hues of the Mediterranean. We walked along the promenade and sat on the beach – no sand, just lots of little pebbles – and got as close to a swim as we will no doubt get at this time of year.

It was difficult to drag myself away from such a beautiful spot but the sun was sinking and we still had to drive to Menton, a mere 30 kms away sure, but on the windy road, with French traffic and having to go through Monaco; it was an hour long drive to which James was not looking forward: I was driving; he had no control; motorbikes and Frenchmen drive like they are taking part in the Monaco Grand Prix; Monte Carlo is like trying to negotiate the Arc de Triumph during peak hour, you keep going round and round. Despite this, I did not hit anyone – have decided that because we are driving a car with French number plates I will just adopt a French frame of mind and drive like a true Frenchy myself! – and found the hotel without argument.

After much discussion re Italy and which way we are going to go (via Sardinia, down the west coast and over to Athens back via ferry to Venice, arrrghhh!) we have decided to change our original plan and go to Venice first, rather than last, and will leave tomorrow for the watery city and hope that despite November being the wettest time of year and the possibility of flooding, neither of these things will happen. (Thanks Brian for advice and website – with only 3 days notice we managed to get the grannyflat! Glad I emailed you when I did.) Needless to say we are madly reading up on Venice and what we are going to do in our 4, possibly 5, days. Have also decided to start some stats, so see sidebar for updates. So it’s adieu, France, for now, and buongiorno Italia!

I thought Chicago was the windy city?

2007-11-14T01:18:00.000+10:00

The last few posts have been quite lengthy and, despite my propensity to talk (spare a thought for James who is the only person who I can converse with that speaks English!), I have actually tried to keep them brief but am finding it difficult to do so when there is so much to report. So, on James’ suggestion, I will endeavour to write them more frequently, but with fewer words. So here is attempt at brevity number 1:

Our (what we thought would be a) relatively short drive from Vielha back into southern France was anything but, however, it was not an unpleasant one. The main image that really stuck was the fact that neither of us could really recall seeing green grass since leaving Northern Spain but on this side of the Pyrenees it was everywhere, despite winter being on its way.

The temperature has certainly been dropping but for the first time it has been windy. The morning after arriving in Carcassonne we walked up to the old city to see the restored citadel and castle and it was freezing. The city has 2 sets of walls surrounding it; when we ‘strolled’ along between them it was like walking in a wind tunnel and feeling like the flying nun. Needless to say we did not walk the entire 3kms and tried to get out of the wind by heading into the city section, only to find that the narrow, cobbled streets had the same effect. So what do you do when you’re cold, hungry and want to get out of the wind in France? Have a 3 course lunch and half a litre of wine! Hint to other travelers: check first that there is not a room full of American tourists on a tour, complete with name tags, above you and that the bloody French don’t think it’s not that cold and have the fans going!

Despite the wind continuing the next day we went for a drive to Minerve and decided to take the scenic route. This consisted of going up into the mountains which began well and ended with us driving through cloud, with fog lights on only being able to see about 10 feet in front of us – not so scenic, more Harry Potter with Dementors gliding out of the swirling mist. Nevertheless, it was an experience we will remember. Minerve sits atop a craggy outthrust of rock between 2 gorges and was very bleak in the wind but worth the drive. All in all Carcassonne has been a step back to medieval times and the weather definitely mirrored the setting.

Next is Provence, with all of its gastronomical delights. Thank god I packed some ‘eating pants’. I just hope that no one notices I keep wearing the same outfit!

The Holy Trinity: Tapas, Sangria and Cerveza

2007-11-07T20:34:00.000+10:00

Yes, the above three words pretty much describe what the rest of Spain has been like for us over the past 11 days and the experience, at times, was truly heavenly. We came back in to southern Spain from Lisbon to Seville and spent the next 3 days enjoying the sights (but not the smells): the Cathedral and La Giralda; Barrio de Santa Cruz and its cool, green courtyards; Plaza de Espana in Parque Maria Luisa and Plaza de Toros de la Maestranza where they hold the bull fights, which I was very disappointed to have missed by 2 weeks, oh well. As for the smell? Well, there were lots of pretty horse drawn carriages around Seville taking all of the tourists on jaunts, but leaving their poo all over the streets. It’s strange that Seville is so beautiful with its narrow streets and well tended plazas but smells so bad. Such offenses can be forgiven, however, by the incredible jamon iberico (think the best proscuitto you have ever had and then you’re about 1/3 of the way there) and morcilla (blood sausage and no it’s not like the black pudding kind which is absolutely disgusting – sorry James, I know that’s blasphemy – but is actually pretty good) and the flamenco. One of the ‘musts’ for me on this trip was going to a bull fight and flamenco, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to get one of them. I cannot describe how much I was in awe of the whole experience and how grateful I am to James for sitting through it with me (dancing isn’t his thing, is it Anna!) It was, without a doubt, one of the highlights for me, other than obviously being on my honeymoon with my wonderful husband of course!

The next stop on our way north was, wait for it, Holy Toledo Batman! – and yes, we did spend the next 2 days saying that at every available opportunity. For James, Toledo is a clear winner in the ‘what’s your favourite Spanish city’ round, most notably for being “narrow, windy, [that’s as in twisty, not the blowy kind] turny, confusing, amazing” end quote. It’s also the first place we have ever had marzipan and if you’re going to try something for the first time then go to the home of it, and by god, Toledo is it.
We saw a marzipan model of Toledo and bought some on our way out and I doubt if it will ever make it to Italy – thanks very much to the Arabs for that one. I loved Toledo not just for the sweets, but for its clear ability to show that the Christians, Arabs and Jews could all live together, for a while at least, in the mixture of architecture.

The second last stop on our Spanish leg was the capital, Madrid. Being concerned about how damn big it is and our lack of detailed map and the inevitable cursing every time we have to negotiate our way into a city where it’s all Spanish to us we decided to stay out of the main centre and get the metro in. Little did we know that we would actually be 3 trains out of Madrid and a 1 hour ride away! Despite this minor oversight it was interesting sharing the trains with the locals and being jostled at peak hour. Other than the usual must sees: the Palacio Real (with a 50 minute queue); the Prado (shorter queue and free for some reason the day we saw it – oh my god Kerrie you would have loved it, Rubens, Valazquez, Raphael, Bosh(!) and my favourite, Goya); Plaza Mayor and Puerto del Sol with their bustle and noise it was again the food and drink that we fell in love with. The best tapas ever and the glasses of sangria and cerveza flowed and it is definitely one of the top 5 things that we will miss about Spain.

We left the capital of Spain for the capital of the Val d’Aran in the Pyrenees: Vielha. It is, as the lady in the hotel’s reception said to me with a look of confusion on her face when I asked her for a map of the town, “not big, only a village”. And she’s right, it is little more than a ski village full of ski hotels and apartments and chalets with a grand total of 1000 people. It is also one of the most beautiful and scenic places we have seen. From the snow capped mountains surrounding the town (our first sight of snow!) to the hazel and beech trees with their variegated colours of yellow, brown and gold to the green fir trees and the wildlife - more squirrels and a deer - Vielha is definitely worth the time to see. The photos we have taken will never do the place justice and it is also the first place that we have been reminded of the fact that it’s not summer here – it is 8-10 degrees during the day – and despite the perpetual bright blue skies winter is on its way!

Obrigado Portugal, e bom dias

2007-10-30T03:39:00.000+10:00

Since our last entry a lot has happened and, as promised, I will not be quite as verbose. So here goes, Portugal in a page:

Our first real taste of Portugal was Oporto and it was one we both truly savoured. After a very stressful circumnavigation of the city several times, thanks to a lack of detailed city maps, we decided that although the drivers are maniacs and we love this city: its steep, narrow streets that cling to the hillside along the river; its bright blue skied sunny days and fabulous port (the alcoholic version); the blue and white mosaic tiles that adorn the churches and announce the shops; its skyline as seen from the bell tower at the Ireja Torre Dos Clerigos and the maitre D who goes to the trouble to get an English translation of what I was eating and write it down for me (figado means liver by the way and I really wished that I had waited until I’d finished eating it to ask him that!).

From there it was on to Coimbra – via a picturesque drive through the Douro valley where they grow the grapes to make the lovely port - where we spent 2 days engrossed in history. We saw the 18th century university library that contains books from the 16th century and where there is a colony of bats living that eat the bugs that would feed on the books and destroy them! We walked through the Arco de Almedina - remnants of a Moorish town wall – and saw the chapel where 2 of Portugal’s kings are buried.
I even saw my first squirrel up close and personal in a surprise encounter in a park.

When we left Coimbra we drove via Conimbriga which contains Portugal’s largest remains of Roman ruins – Margot you would have loved it; mosaics galore and yes, I took photos for you. James was in heaven and remained there when we drove to Tomar to see Convento de Cristo which relates back to the Knights Templar. Unfortunately for me, whilst it was very pretty, there was no armour decked Orlando Bloom riding around to get me all excited about knights. Oh well, maybe I’ll get to see Johnny Depp in France somewhere.

We had 2 full days at Cascais from which to see Sintra and Lisbon. We thought one day at each would suffice but in retrospect, we would have skipped the big L and spent both days at world heritage listed Sintra. Whilst there we saw the Palacio Nacional de Sintra and the Palacio Nacional da Pena and both were well worth it. The painted ceilings of Sintra were unlike any we have seen and the eclectic style of, and the fairytale (read Brothers Grimm here, not the Disneyland version) park that surrounds, Pena were just WOW! Tip for future travelers, give a whole day to just seeing Pena and its park, you certainly won’t be lost for things to see. By comparison, Lisbon the next day was disappointing. Unlike previous cities it just had no vibe and nothing to draw us there, other than the view from the Castelo de Sao Jorge.

The following day we left for Seville and on the drive made the following comments, given that this is the first country we have seen as a whole and to which we will not be returning on this trip:

o Great port custard tarts, love the kid (the meat, not the small child, despite the liver part which really was quite tasty until I knew what it was) but road tolls really suck.
o People were really friendly (no elbowing here) and are the best English speakers yet.
o How many gum trees can you get outside of Australia? Apparently a lot, they’re everywhere.

Something else!

2007-10-18T00:17:00.000+10:00

The last entry James posted was brief, given that the one before that it might be our last if we didn’t make it out of Paris alive, and given our problems with the internet we just wanted to make sure everyone knew that we were alive. So here is the more detailed version of events.

Monday 1 October – very stressful drive from Paris to a little hamlet called La Musse after being given directions to it by the French guy who we had emailed to book a B and B (but given issues with internet were not sure if he got it – apparently not, and he was leaving for New York that night anyway!) and had our first true French home cooked meal which we shared with an English couple who could speak French and could thank god translate for us when my very meager school French failed us – which was quite often.

Tuesday 2 October – despite the threatening rain we spent the day at Versailles and it was magnificent. The rain stopped 5 minutes before we parked and started 5 minutes after we left so we were very happy given that we don’t have an umbrella or raincoats as we wanted to reduce packing (and frankly forgot to pack any!) It was definitely a highlight for both of us and the gardens and rooms were beyond opulent. The only thing that marred the opulence was all the bloody tourists wandering around spoiling the view. Today we learnt our 3 lesson on the trip so far: how to use a prepaid phone card, which was more tricky than it looked given that the instructions were all in French and it took me 3 goes back into the post office to get instructions in broken English. The first 2 things we learned: Paris is expensive, shops shut early on a Sunday afternoon so if you want to buy anything cheap for dinner you have to do it earlier, or be hungry!

Wednesday 3 October – Rouen to try and sort internet issue (obviously not sorted) and that was about it. It was an emergency stop to try and book accommodation for the next few days and we thankfully managed to do so thanks to internet cafes.

Thursday 4 October – Off to see the famous Bayeux tapestry which was fabulous and extremely well preserved given that it is over 900 years old and had to be rescued from being used as a cover to wrap up weapons and prevent from being cut up. Drove northeast to Omaha Beach and Pointe du Hoc where the Americans landed at Normandy and then on to Monte St Michel which looks incredible from a distance and which we had a fabulous view of from our bedroom window (see picture in previous entry to be insanely jealous and then imagine it at night all lit up and be even more so).

Friday 5 October – Mt St Michel up close and personal and then a side trip to St Malo (just north westish) where we spent the afternoon walking around the ramparts of the old fortified town and watched some boat races on the beach (again, see me doing my best impression of a Japanese tourist posing for a photo on the beach). It was a beautiful day but was still quite cold and only dogs and crazy Russians who had stripped down to their underwear were swimming.

Saturday 6 – a long driving day to Xanton Chassenon which is in the Loire valley and was south of Angers. Stopped at Angers to watch the rugby and were very disappointed to lose – especially as we were in our Wallabies jerseys and sitting next to French supporters who were desperately hoping we’d lose so they wouldn’t have to play us (and ironically as I’m sitting here typing this France is playing England and it’s the start of the second half). Lesson number 4 was learnt today: when in doubt and the bloody roundabouts that the French seem so fond of aren’t on the map, follow any sign that says ‘toutes directions’ until you find one that says what you want it to. Sunday was spent walking 14kms around the Loire on back lanes. Funny me thought that this would be a relaxing few days but apparently we need the exercise.

Monday 8 – Lesson 5: buy bread in the morning because nothing seems to be open on a Monday, what is with the French and this open when we want to attitude? Don’t they know that I’m on my honeymoon and it’s supposed to be PERFECT?? Arrived in Bordeaux where I was assaulted on the street while returning from the laundromat by a large woman of African descent, again, how does this fit with perfection? Perhaps it is karma for being quite chuffed with the fact that everyone else had to go back to school today and we could eat pain au chocolate and drink espresso whenever we felt like it.

Tuesday 9 – thank god, crepes. We have missed dinner and lunch lately and the dessert crepes we ate for lunch today were to die for, and I think some of my arteries did with all of the chocolate intake. Then it was off to Gascony to make up for the lack of food by eating and drinking our way through the next few days.

Wednesday 10 – Friday 12 – Eating, drinking and planning our foray into Spain with the help of our lovely Band B hosts Bruce and Jenny who gave many useful suggestions re Spain and what to see was all that was done. It was the longest we have stayed in any one place and it was nice to stop and relax. Great food: ‘duck bits’ salad and foix gras (the area is known for duck) and I even ate the duck hearts in my salad; crème brulee and chocolate dessert stuff that was heavenly; wine by the ½ litre; duck leg; lamb oh my god we certainly made up for the not eating lately.

Saturday 13 and Sunday 14 –

left France for Spain and spent the afternoon at

St Sebastian and then drove to Bilbao to see the Guggenheim. Tapas is great and the Guggenheim was another highlight for both of us where we spent over 3 hours enjoying the art and architecture.

Monday 15 and Tuesday 16 went to Picos de Europa where we did some walking in the mountains and saw some spectacular scenery.

Today, Wednesday 17 we’re in Salamanca, the white city for a few days. Our next update will be from Portugal and I promise will not be as detailed as this one, I just didn’t want anyone to feel cheated out of 10 days of what you’re missing out on! Plus, any chance to rub it in is good with me! Adios!

We are still alive!

2007-10-12T03:06:00.000+10:00

It’s a shame, but we have discovered that not all internet connections are created equally, or at least, they are not as accessible by our Compaq as we would have liked. For some reason, and I have spent numerous hours trying to work it out, the laptop we brought will not access the internet in France through a wireless connection. We have no problems picking up a wireless, and at times have excellent connectivity, but we just don’t seem to be able to get the net. Internet cafes unfortunately do not always allow you to upload images and can be quite expensive. All suggestions for a fix would be most welcome.

Since our last entry we have seen the Palace of Versailles, the Bayeux tapestry, visited Mont St Michel, walked the fields of the Loire valley and eaten the best crepes in Bordeaux. If you say it fast it doesn’t sound like much but it accounts for the last 10 days.

Our current location, at the time of writing anyway, is Gascogne in the south of France. We have been staying in a little village, once fortified, called St Justin, not far from the town of Marciac. Looking out our bedroom window we can see the Pyrenees in the distance. Today we did a tour of the local countryside, having lunch in Auch, west of Toulouse.
Tomorrow, we go to Spain!

JH

PS Special thanks to Jenny and Bruce Lawson for allowing us access to the net at their home.

I love Paris in the Autumn!

2007-10-01T19:27:00.001+10:00

It’s true; Paris in winter was stark, bare and beautiful, but Paris in Autumn is spectacular. The temperature dropped by about 15o from Hong Kong and the city when we arrived was mostly asleep being a Saturday morning at 8am. As we couldn’t check in until 2pm we spent the hours by walking down to Notre Dame via the Place de la Republic and the Bastille. The air was crisp, the trees were changing and the place felt so much slower than Hong Kong as the streets were less crowded and there were places to stop and sit and drink in the scenery. Our plan to watch the rugby didn’t go quite as expected but we did manage to see the second half and spent the afternoon despairing at how quickly our Euros were disappearing and how much more expensive everything was – especially when compared with HK!

Sunday was (for me at least) the best day by far as we could not have asked for a better day weather wise. The walk down the Champs Elysee – after successfully managing to negotiate the Metro which didn’t end up quite as scary as we thought it would be – was wonderful and I must say both James and I felt slightly more chic today than walking around yesterday after our 12 hour flight. We walked through the Jardins des Tuileries and it was a mixture of brown leaves, colourful gardens and lots and lots of Irish Rugby fans. I learned, upon asking a couple of said Irish supporters to take our photo there, quite a bit about us from the following conversation with the guy taking our photo:
Irish guy: where do you want to stand?
James: over there Me: over there (pointing in opposite directions)
Irish guy: that’d be right he wants a naked statue in the background and she wants flowers!
Me: What naked statue? I didn’t see any naked statue.
Then again, perhaps it says more about the Irish than us!

Today we are off to pick up the car and negotiate our way out of Paris. Both James and I are a bit apprehensive about this as we have seen the map, seen the traffic and know that we have to drive on the wrong side of the road. Oh well, this may be our last entry and if so, at least I had fun in Paris. If not, then it is the start of a new adventure with (no doubt) many wrong turns yet to come! SH

Goodbye Hong Kong

2007-09-28T12:31:00.000+10:00

Today is our last day in HK and after two days we’re all shopped out; our hotel room looks like a battle field with boxes and bags left lying where they fell. These first few days of our honeymoon were supposed to be relaxing ones, but we’ve done so much walking that our muscles have started to seize up in protest and are wondering where that much promised rest has gone! So I’ve promised them that after one more day of walking (we’re off to Victoria Peak on Hong Kong Island but have explained to said muscles that the world’s longest escalator is there so it won’t be so hard going) that they can have a well deserved rest on the plane tonight to Paris. I have similarly made the same promise to our bank account which has also had a severe working out. Our next entry will be from gay Paris and will no doubt be written over a latte and croissant. So it’s good bye HK and hello France. SH

The first 24 of the 2760 hours!

2007-09-26T11:35:00.000+10:00

Well, neither James or I have killed each other (yet!) but we did get off to a bit of a shakey start: James has discovered that he is allergic to his wedding band (read that it left funny marks on his finger) and I got taken into a small room for a bomb test and a body search. The plane ride was long, the icecream was so frozen that my lip got stuck to it and bled and James' fingers swelled up making his wedding band even more of a problem. Despite this, and the tiredness we both felt from being up at 4am due to nervous excitement, we arrived safely and are about to set off (it's now 9.30 on Wednesday morning) on our first day out in HK. Photos will follow as have just bought new camera and not charged it yet! SH

7 days to go

2007-09-18T10:04:00.000+10:00

We will be leaving sunny, warm, and despondently dry Brisbane next Tuesday for our much anticipated world trip/honeymoon. That evening we arrive in Hong Kong and three days later depart for Paris on what will be an extended drive around Europe. We will be on the road for 86 days! Mid December we are off to New York for Christmas before heading over to Vancouver for New Years. Our final destination, before we arrive back in Brisbane after 2760 hours, will be Whistler for 14 days of skiing.

Our next posting will be from another hemisphere. Our plan, all internet connections being equal, will be to post twice a week our exploits and images. You will be able to SMS us on our mobiles if its urgent or email us at our hotmail and yahoo accounts if you want to keep secrets. Otherwise, send us a message by commenting on our blog.

j

The countdown is on - only 40 sleeps to go

2007-08-16T15:43:00.000+10:00

It isn't that far away now. Very soon we will both be jetting our way to HKG before spending 90 days in Europe.

j

It all begins 25 September

2007-07-15T11:31:00.000+10:00

Soon my pretty ....