A Highland Fling

After 14 months of travelling through seventeen countries we finally came to our lucky last ‘new place’, Scotland. It is a place that I have been very excited to visit for my entire life. My beloved Grandpop was born in Scotland and as a little girl I was told many stories of his life growing up there. It was completely different from my own childhood and I’d delight in hearing about his boyhood capers which included antagonising nasty nuns, being bitten and chased by wild (and probably provoked) Shetland ponies and trying to run through the snow wall that would build up outside the farm house door overnight during winter. In Canberra, he played in the Burns club pipe band for years and I used to enjoy hearing him practice in the kitchen where he lived with my Granny (I’m not sure if the neighbours would have felt the same way). I had always assumed I would visit Scotland and so I was happy the day had finally come.

Early Saturday morning, we flew into Edinburgh but rented a car and headed straight out to the countryside. Our first stop was Stirling Castle, which is placed high on Castle Hill overlooking the town. Historically it is considered to be one of the most important castles due to its position on the river Forth with the old saying going ‘whoever holds Stirling, holds Scotland’. It was definitely very impressive and we enjoyed stretching our legs and seeing the view.

The scenery changed dramatically as we headed northwest into the Highlands. Rolling hills gave way to snow-covered rocky crags and our breath was taken away as we passed Loch Lomond and entered Glen Coe. It was
absolutely beautiful and I wish that we had more time so we could have done some hiking there.

We continued north, passing the UK’s highest mountain, Ben Nevis, before heading east to our destination for the day, Loch Ness. Although we missed out on seeing the monster of the Loch, Loch Ness was definitely beautiful. We drove the whole 70 miles around the Loch before arriving in Drumnadrochit to find a B&B to stay in for the night.

We hadn’t booked any accommodation as we weren’t sure where we’d end up at the end of the day. So, as we did in Asia, we looked around Drumnadrochit for one that looked good and simply knocked on the door. Marty asked the owner, Alistair, if he had a room available for the night and he considered it for a few seconds before somewhat begrudgingly saying ‘yes’. We had a quick look at the room and said we would like to stay. We were a little surprised that he wasn’t more enthusiastic. However, we quickly discovered the source of his discontent when he apologised and confessed to being quite stressed at watching the last 15 minutes of the Scotland vs. Italy rugby test match. He admitted that he usually gives a whole routine when a new guest arrives, but given the rugby was on, would we like (or mind) coming downstairs to his apartment to watch the end of the match. Marty answered strongly in the affirmative. The match was important because Scotland were winning and a win would see them avoid the embarrassment of the 6 Nations’ wooden spoon. Alistair was clearly very excited to see this happen.

After that it all went well, the place was really beautiful and looked out over a stream that flowed into Loch Ness.
Marty asked if there was a pub in town that he could watch the next rugby match over dinner and Alistair said there was and jumped on the phone to reserve us a table in front of the TV at the ‘Benleva’. We were very amused when we walked into the little local pub and saw only four patrons seated at the bar and a little ‘reserved’ sign sat on one of the many vacant tables. It was a beautiful pub and we had a great night. The food was great and they had a nice selection of ales and whiskies. We sat, ate, drank and joined in with the local Scots cheering on the Irish against the English.

After another huge delicious breakfast we decided to go for a walk in the nearby Glen Affric to try and burn off a couple of calories and see some of the countryside. Unfortunately, after a forty-minute drive through the snow all the walking tracks were closed. And proper closed at that (they were being dug up and repaired – low season travel at its best). We did go on a short walk up a hill to a viewpoint and then an annoying track to a waterfall that just followed the road we had just driven. That being said, the scenery was really pretty and it was nice to do something other than eating, drinking and driving (not necessarily in that order).

We then headed west to see the Eilean Donan castle. For those that have seen ‘Highlander’, this is the castle from the film. It was really impressive. There can be only one!

We spent the night in Inverness. It’s a really pretty city with another cool castle sitting on a hill above it. My favourite part of the city was the Ness Islands. It made for a really nice walk among the massive trees. We stayed at another lovely B&B had dinner at another great pub, near the castle with ok food and lots of cheap single malt whiskies. Marty loved it.

The next day we headed east and after a brief stop in Elgin we headed to Keith where my Grandpop grew up. To be honest, it really isn’t a very exciting town and we couldn’t visit the farm where he grew up as it has been turned into a quarry. But it was nice to be in the same place he spent his formative years.

After Keith we headed for a few more castles. The highlight was a small and very strange and very pink castle called ‘Craigievar Castle’. If you are in the area you should check it out, but if not I wouldn’t go out of your way. As far as castles go it is very pretty, but it is strange given its size and location.

Being in Scotland, we figured we ought to do a whisky tour. We chose one near our stop for the night, the Royal Lochnagar distillery in Ballater. This is a good whisky tour because it still does most of the processes itself (all except malting the barley and storing the barrels). It was smelly but still interesting (as far as whisky distilleries can be) and set in a very pretty area. And the scotch was apparently quite nice (I did taste it but it all tastes the same to me, terrible). It is right near Balmoral Castle and when the castle was built the distiller sent Queen Victoria a letter inviting her to visit the distillery. Prince Albert and Queen Victoria, being pissheads, arrived the very next day with their 3 children. The Queen suitably impressed awards the place a Royal Warrant of Appointment as a supplier to the Queen. Her taste probably cannot be too talked up as Vicky apparently used to enjoy hers as a shot into some red wine. Seems like a waste of wine to me!

We spent the next day working our way south out of the highlands to Edinburgh, passing the very famous and very beautiful town of St Andrews. We came mostly for Marty to get a look at the home of golf, the Old Course. It really doesn’t look like much, a big football pitch with the occasional flag sticking out of it. But the town of St Andrews is really beautiful. It has a lovely ruined castle on a cliff, a very pretty town centre, and a really gorgeous beach. I recommend a visit to anyone, it is much more than an old golf course.

After St Andrews, we were arrived in Edinburgh. Edinburgh is a great city. Yes it has another castle on a hill overlooking the town – but what a castle! It’s absolutely huge and you can’t help but stare at it. Our timing was perfect as it was covered with blooming daffodils.

Something that wasn’t huge was our hotel room. When easyHotel Edinburgh says ‘small room, no window’, they really really mean it. It was so small only one of us could stand in it at a time, the other person would have to sit on the bed. We had to climb over our meager luggage to get to the toilet or out the front door. That being said, at GBP25 a night for a great spot on Prince Street we couldn’t really complain too much. Still – be warned!

The next day we decided to go on a ‘free’ walking tour of the city. The idea is that you don’t have to pay for the tour, but if you enjoy yourself you should tip the guide at the end. Because the guide is working for tips, they try harder to give a god tour. It works, and I can thoroughly recommend this one. He told us lots of little stories about the city that you just wouldn’t learn about reading a guidebook. Plus, every tradie you pass working on a building site yells out ‘Freedom!’ at the group, which is hilarious.

My favourite story was about the ‘Heart of Midlothian’. It is a paved mosaic heart on the pavement of the royal mile and it marks the place where the tollbooth used to sit. Amongst other things the tollbooth used to collect taxes and was a popular place for public executions. So, not surprisingly the people of Edinburgh didn’t like it very much. And to this day, to show their dislike of the old tollbooth, Edinburgians spit on the pavement heart. They also spit on it if they go for the football team, the Hibernians because the ‘Harts’ are their enemies. And the Harts fans also spit on it for luck. So pretty much everyone in the town spits on the heart. It was awesome if not a little gross.

Edinburgh was a really nice city and I could have easily spent more time there. We enjoyed walking around the city and were sad to leave. It is a great city with beautiful old buildings, lovely parks, pubs and restaurants and a great history. The people are some of the friendliest of any capital city we have been to and so it really shouldn’t be missed.

Scotland was really beautiful and we really enjoyed our time there immensely. The landscape is gorgeous and I’d love to go back to do some walking and perhaps ‘bag a munroe’ (climb to the peak of a Scottish mountain – a hill really). It was really fantastic to see somewhere I had heard of all my life and a great ‘last place’ to see on our Europe trip.

Next stop London, and then home (oh no!).

Love,

Sarah

The Bellew Family.

After leaving the Dutchman’s Dutchland, our dynamite tour of Europe was over. And in our usual fashion it ended with a bus trip. The good ol’ Eurolines came through again with another fantastic journey. But our trip did not go entirely without incident.

One of the biggest problems with a bus that begins its journey in the Netherlands (also Holland) is that it becomes a target for the customs and immigration guys when you get to Calais (where you board the Eurostar supertrain). When we pulled up, we were forced off with all of our belongings to clear customs while they searched the bus.

The other problem with your bus journey starting in the Netherlands (or Holland) is that it might be full of undesirable Dutch people. This becomes an issue when the sniffer dog starts to search passengers. Any normal person would simply relax and let the dog sniff around. However, the 6’6″ black Dutch gentleman with the gold teeth that had been sitting next to me on the bus decided to smack the dog on the mouth to get it away from him. I don’t recommend anyone doing this because it resulted in him being dragged off and searched, I can only assume, thoroughly. It also meant the line through customs was stopped for an hour. You have no idea how surprised I was when he climbed back into the bus before we headed off. I thought he was a goner for sure. But he didn’t actually have any drugs, the dog was in his face apparently. Stupid.

Now I shouldn’t be too harsh on the Dutch people on the bus, there were lots of other dodgy people on board our bus. People that would now have to clear British Immigration. People like Sarah.

I think the English are the worst Border Guards in the world. They are a bunch of humourless, stuck up, patronising and deluded clowns that believe everyone is trying to sneak in to their country so they can live off the fat of the hard working Englishman. It is nonsense. I don’t care if you do have an immigration problem, so do most countries. Be more civil. Accusing Sarah of being a drug addict because she has been to Holland, Nepal, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam, is ludicrous. People actually like to leave England and see the world.

The other problem with catching a bus is that the bus doesn’t leave until everyone has cleared customs. So we had to wait another 45 minutes for Sarah and a strange-looking man with no luggage to clear immigration. So we were again delayed. This was only an issue because we were running late for a home cooked meal with G man in London.

Thankfully, we weren’t home too late and Gordon cooked Sarah a delicious sausage pasta (someone told him she liked sausages). This was followed by a great rhubarb crumble. Rhubarb, quite by accident, is Sarah’s favourite ingredient in a dessert. So Gordon managed two of Sarah’s favourite things in one meal. And none of mine. Noone cares.

Anyway, the next day we were off to the Burrough Market which is where Jamie Oliver used to go on his little scooter to go and buy ingredients when he was cooking ‘for his mates’, back before he decided to save the planet. It is a beautiful little freshfood market where we were able to get some breakfast and buy a few things for dinner that night. We were having, yep, more sausage.

The only problem was that I carried some really strong-smelling italian sausages around in my backpack all day, so whenever someone came within 3 feet of me, all they could smell was sausage. And we were shopping in Oxford Street on a Saturday afternoon. I am not the most English-looking fella so I must’ve fulfilled a few peoples’ racist stereotype as they caught a whiff of me waiting for Sarah outside the fitting rooms of Zara or wherever we were.

The next day we spent drinking beer watching rugby union in the pub with Gordon and Nick. It was the last time I will be seeing my good ol’ Mr Brown for quite some time now I suppose. So it was a bit sad, I have enjoyed his company. Good luck in New York mate and I hope to see you at the Wedding.

The next morning we were booked on a RyanAir flight out of London’s Stanstead airport. Now for those that think Stanstead is in London, like say, we did 3 months ago when we booked this flight, think again. Stanstead is in the middle of nowhere. It is an hour and a half bus ride out of London. And the worst thing, if you book a flight before 7.30am is you can’t actually get to the airport in time for check-in using public transport! You either have to go out the night before and sleep there, or pay 100 pound for a mini-cab. Obviously, if you have read this blog before, we slept at the airport.

It actually wasn’t too bad. We got out there early enough to finagle Sarah 3 seats in a row without armrests so she could lie down. I slept on the floor next to her like her little dog. I got a bit cold from the floor but otherwise I was ok. If you find yourself doing this, then get there early. Arrive before 10pm because there are sooo many people doing this that at 4am it looks like a hurricane shelter. Hundreds and hundreds of people sleeping on their luggage on the floor, spread out over the entire airport. It is quite a sight. And this is low season! In the summer it must be like Glastonbury, just without the fun.

So after a cheeky nap we were on our flight headed for Cork International Airport in Cork County, Ireland. If the English Customs can be called ‘hellish’, the Irish customs must be called ‘nonexistent’. Both the green ‘nothing to declare’ and the red ‘goods to declare’ lines went to the same place, a switched-off x-ray machine with noone around. So just like that, we were in Ireland. We picked up our Budget Car and we were off.

First stop was the Blarney Castle to kiss the Blarney Stone. The castle is quite pretty and the garden setting is really beautiful, but the kissing of the ‘Stone’ is actually a bit crap. The ‘Stone’ is below the walkway, so a man forces you to lie on your back, holds you by the waist and then tells you to lean back over the ledge and kiss the ‘Stone’ which seems to be just part of the wall. It is very odd, and worsened by the fact that there is a large permanent camera, reminiscent of the speed-traps on the highway, taking your tourist photo that you can buy in the giftshop (like at Disneyland). We didn’t buy ours.

Next we were off on the scenic route through a mountain pass and around some of the famous ‘Ring of Kerry’ out to Ireland’s Dingle. That name has made me giggle so much, I would often start laughing in the car for no reason. When Sarah would ask what was the matter, I would simply smirk and say ‘Dingle’. Maturity, who needs it?

Ireland is really, really beautiful. The scenic route, that was suggested to us by the really nice man at the Budget desk, was absolutely gorgeous. The rolling hills and craggy snow-capped mountains were simply magical, not to mention the blue skies! Everyone complains about the weather in Ireland, but the weather for us was perfect all week. When we were out on the Dingle Peninsular (teehee) we went past a beach with the sun shining on the clear blue water and you could easily forget you were so far from the equator. It was just stunning. The Dingle Peninsular is one of the most beautiful places I have been on this holiday, second perhaps only to the Nepal. Big call.

That night we stayed in Dingle town at a delightful B&B. Ireland is absolutely full of B&B’s and they all seem really lovely. The Irish are very hospitable people and you felt very welcome in their home. Not to mention the cooking and the spectacular baked treats. Our Galway one had a jar full of fresh-baked cookies and I was that jerk you see who eats all of them.

The next day we were back in the car to see some of Ireland’s more popular sights, the Cliffs of Moher and the Burren. The Cliffs were beautiful, although they have been sterilised with paths and fences put up everywhere to funnel all the tourists (and keep them safe). But still, it was visually stunning.

Some tourists not keen on the new fence system took it on themselves to climb over the fences and wander the cliff edges, despite the warning signs. Given the number of people walking here and the amount of rain they can get, I think it is dumb so Sarah and I refrained. Still, yanks will be yanks.

That night we stayed in Galway City, birthplace of the Madden family name. It is a great little town with a lively pub area. We had a few good pints of Guinness and a nice local fish and chips. I recommend a stop here, it is a fun place to have a few pints and enjoy the craic.

Next stop was Dublin to visit one of my mates from my Sydney Uni football team, David Bellew. Dave is a Dubliner born and bred and he put us up with his lovely mother and father (Gwen and David Snr), little sister (Lauren) and White Highland Terrier (Lindy or Linders). Dave actually gave up his bed for Sarah and I, which was a lovely thing for him to do for us and we really appreciated it. Thanks mate.

We were in Dublin for the St Patrick’s Day celebrations, but most of our celebrating was done the night before at the local Clonsilla Inn, or ‘The Inn’ as it is known. We had been to the Guinness Factory earlier in the day and it was an absolute circus, full to the brim with annoying Americans. The Chief says it is the best Guinness in the world, and he might be right, but given it costs 15 euro’s, I would be much happier with 3 pints of an almost-as-good Guinness at The Inn.

Irish people like to talk about the ‘craic’. Dave was often saying to us, “there is good craic there”, or “no craic in that pub”, or “might be better craic somewhere else”. In Australia, we would call it ‘the vibe’, but we really don’t have it. The Inn, which I am now in love with and miss terribly, had a jovial, vibrant, unpretentious, and celebratory vibe that I have not experienced anywhere else in the world. The Irish are happy to get drunk, be silly and dance till their hearts content. There is no agro or judgements, just good times. And that feeling permeates. I loved it. Needless to say I drank way too many Guinness and went to bed at about 2am, a good 2 hours before everyone else, including Sarah, Gwen, Lauren and Linders.

I had been looking forward to St Patrick’s Day in Dublin for a while now. I thought it would be a really good day in the city centre where we would see the parade and drink Guinness all day and night with the Irish. I didn’t contend on one thing – the Americans. The town is full of them. Aussies too, but mostly yanks there to get wasted and make idiots of themselves. And where are all the Irish? The same place you would be if thousands of clowns descended on your town to get drunk – at home.

So on Paddy’s Day we got up late and went into town to watch the parade. It was fun, but unfortunately we only got the tail end of it. We then decided to go for a pint. It was a zoo. We were unfortunate enough to be near a bunch of Aussies on a Fanatic’s St Patrick’s Day tour. I didn’t even know they had these, they have clearly branched out from just sporting events. In any case, it was horrible, just calling skulls and making fools of themselves. I had to leave. The worst example of the Aussie tourist.

After one pint we set off for the famous ‘Temple Bar’ area. A very pretty cobbled stone street full of different pubs. This was even worse. Just a sea of bright green (the Irish in Dublin rarely wear green on Paddy’s day, only the yanks do) with no room to go anywhere. We couldn’t even get close enough to a bar to get a pint. We pulled the pin. Back to the Clonsilla Inn.

The rest of the day was great with a full pub of Irish having a great time. Gwen, Dave and Lauren came to the pub aswell and it was a great craic. Again, for the Irish the festivities didn’t finish until after 4am. Mine, at about 2am.

The next day we got up late again and headed into town to do a few touristy things. We wandered around the town and saw the Millennium Spire (Gwen’s favourite), Trinity College (although we didn’t see the old book), St Stephen’s Green (where U2′s Bono grazed a flock of sheep) and many other fine sights.

My favourite was the GPO building which is made famous for the Easter Rebellion. In 1916 Micheal Collins and a few hundred men barricaded themselves into the building and began a short siege against the British. It was a bloody rebellion that eventually (6 years later) led to Ireland’s Independence. My favourite was how Davey described it: “So in 1916 a bunch of lads turned up with a load of sandbags, and said ‘Right, we don’t like ya”. I lost it. Dave’s tour of Dublin was excellent.

Dublin was great fun and it was made all the more fun by Dave and his really beautiful family. The Bellew’s were fantastic hosts and really great fun. We enjoyed our time with them very much and miss them a lot. Not a day has since gone past where haven’t thought of them, told a story and had a laugh. Thank you guys for the great memories. It was a great insight into the Irish and Dubliner life that we couldn’t have got without your generous hospitality. We miss you already. I hope you can make it to Australia to visit us. We will definitely come and see you next time we are in Ireland.

Next stop, Scotland.

Love,

Marty.

P.S The Photos of Ireland are available here.

Eating our way through the Lowlands

We left Frankfurt, after a great week in Germany, on the night bus to Brussels. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience we’ve had. The bus ride was actually only quite short, which meant that after a chilly wait to board the bus at midnight we were turfed out at the Brussels train station at 5:30am. We had not had nearly enough sleep, so we were both cold and tired.

We found a nice cafe at the train station to have a coffee to wake up before we thought we would walk into town and find a McDonald’s to sit and wait in the warm until everything opened (and use the free WIFI to find the address of our B&B). The problem with that plan was that the McDonalds in Brussels weren’t open and wouldn’t be until 8:30am! Unbelievable!

So we were forced to wander the cold streets in circles for a little while until we struck upon one lone open bakery-cafe to have a coffee and warm up a little. With still nothing open at 8.30am we decided to return to the McDonalds and continue with our original plan. But, when we arrived, their doors were still locked and there was a strange sign in Flemish on the window that we believed said something about no electricity. As we talked about what to do next a business man walked up to the McDonalds doors and gave them a forceful shake before shaking his head and rushing off down the street. In a streak of lunacy that must be put down to tiredness and hunger, we decided to stalk him certain that he was heading for another McDonalds nearby. Unfortunately, he wasn’t. After trailing this perfect stranger for 15 minutes, he eventually disappeared into a building that we assume he worked in (not McDonalds). Needless to say, we were in a big city so we eventually found another McDonalds, and because we wasted so much time following the guy it was open. It wasn’t the best start to our stay in Brussels.

Once all that drama was over, we set off to explore the European capital. Perhaps it was our auspicious start or that we’ve been on the road too long but we didn’t really love Brussels. Some of it was really nice though. We thought the Grand Place was magnificent and quite enjoyed walking down all the cobbled streets. The Royal Palace was also really beautiful.

One thing that we certainly weren’t impressed by was the diminutive ‘Mannekan Pis’. It’s a really small, strange statue of a little boy weeing in the street. It’s apparently a big deal and Belgium people enjoy making strange costumes to dress it up in. We didn’t see it’s appeal at all and quickly moved on!

One thing we did love about Brussels was the food. We started sampling some of the chocolates early on and my favourite was a caramel praline I had at a place called ‘Neuhaus’. In honour of Belgium being the home of chippies we had some lovely ‘Pommes Frites’ for lunch with Andalous sauce (not sure what it exactly was but it tasted like tomato and chili sauce mixed with mayo). And of course we tried a Belgium waffle, filled with chocolate. It was definitely the best we’d ever had. We also tried a few Belgium beers. For whatever reason, the bars in the city charge around 7 euros to have a bottle of beer on the street and none of them have anything interesting on tap. So we headed down to our local supermarket and bought six to try back in our hotel room (for around 10 euros!). My favourite was the Kriek, a cherry beer.

To the extreme disappointment of our local Belgium-loving B&B owner, we decided to leave early for our next destination in Holland, Rotterdam. We probably didn’t give Brussels a fair go really, but we enjoyed other cities so much more and were ready to move on.

The bus to Rotterdam was uninteresting except for the fact that we left a bag on it when we got off. Luckily for us, the extremely friendly lady in the Eurolines bus office put a call through to Amsterdam (where the bus terminated) and it was back to us the next day! Unbelievable, and really highlights the difference between Europe and Asia.

The reason we chose Rotterdam for our one-stop in Holland (and not Amsterdam) was to visit our friend Evert Slagter, a lovely dutchman we met almost a year ago now in Nepal (you can read about him here in our Nepal post if you like). He had been away at an annual carnival in his home town that involves dressing up in a curtain and a lampshade and drinking for five days!. Needless to say, he was pretty tired and a little unwell when we arrived. He did struggle through though and showed us an absolutely great time.

After we put our bags down (the ones Marty remembered to get off the bus) he took us for a tour of the city, which is an absolute gem. It has a really nice feel to it and the architecture is absolutely amazing. The city got completely flattened in World War 2 so it isn’t very historical but it has great modern architecture and still plenty of canals. One of my favourite things were the cube houses. They are crazy and people actually live in them. I definitely would if I lived there.

We then walked over the lovely Swan Bridge before stopping for beers and coffees at the New York Hotel, the original building of the Dutch-American line, which ran the big passenger boats that used to go from Rotterdam to New York in the old days. It was a really pretty building and we enjoyed a Dutch specialty, Bitteballen with mustard. They were little crumbed balls of meat goodness and they were delicious!

Afterwards we visited the ‘best bar in the world’ as voted by Lonely PLanet backpackers (more LP shenanigans to be honest) before going out for a really tasty pizza meal. We finished the evening meeting the Dutchman’s lovely girlfriend Jojaneka for a beer afterwards. All in all it was a great night and introduction to the city.

Those who know me, know I am a little obsessed with trying different foods and visiting different supermarkets. So I was thrilled in the morning when Evert suggested we go to his local supermarket for some typical Dutch breakfast foods. The supermarkets in the Netherlands are amazing. So much of the food was organic, there were no plastic bags and you get a refund for recycling beer bottles (there’s a little shute in the beer section).

Dutch foods are so different! For breakfast, they really enjoy a version of fairy bread! It is bread, butter and sugar sprinkles in a million different kinds, like chocolate (Hagelslag), aniseed (anijshagel) or fruit. So much better than Hundreds’n'Thousands. Being your typical Vegemite loving Aussie, I wasn’t sure how much I would like them but I adored them. I’m going to have to find somewhere that sells them back home! Besides that we also enjoyed some ‘old cheese’, famous Joppie Sauce, a few different meats, and schtoopwaffles (just as exciting as they sound!). It was all really, really good.

After that we set off to go on the Spido cruise around Rotterdam Port, the largest port in Europe and the third busiest in the world. It is absolutely huge at 40kms long and covering 105km2. Only Shanghai and Singapore are busier. I enjoyed seeing the myriads of shipyards and docks and watching the containers fly around in the air. I really wanted just to go and see what was in one of them!

We then traveled by ferry the opposite way down the Maas river to the Kinderdijk. The Kinderdijk was really cool – it is a village just outside Rotterdam and home to 19 traditional windmills. It was cold and windy but seeing all the windmills was just perfect and fulfilled every vision we had of what rural Netherlands would be like. No clogs though. The lazy Dutch souvenir shops were closed for the Winter.

We made it back into town and after a few beers headed to a Kebabery for a local creation (and new Marty favourite), the Kapsalon. It is the ultimate late night food and is made by covering hot chips with kebab meat, garlic sauce, melted cheese and salad. Yum! We finished with some Pofferjes (Dutch pancakes) before heading back to Evert’s to have a couple of drinks there with Jojaneka.

After enjoying another great Dutch breakfast (mmmmmm hagelslag!) it was time to leave for our bus back to London. We really enjoyed our visit to Rotterdam and can’t thank Evert enough for showing us around. We had an awesome time in Nepal with him and it was great to meet again and see a bit of Dutch life. If he and Jojanka come to Australia in the future they must come stay with us! We will miss both oh them until then.

Sarah
xoxo

P.S To see the Belgium pics, click here.
To see the Netherlands pics, click here.

The Romantic Road

The next part of our journey was something that I had been looking forward to. I enjoy being on the road. I always have. That is why I prefer buses to trains, and wanted to ride a motorcycle through Asia. There is something therapeutic about the road, something mesmerising about watching the world go by. I love it. So the prospect of a couple of days driving through German Bavaria along something called “The Romantic Road” was quite tantalising.

We started in Munich after another lovely Eurolines bus journey. We didn’t have much time in Munich, unfortunately, as we arrived in the afternoon and were leaving the next day at midday. But we did get out amongst the old town and managed to see a few of the sights before making a bee-line for a big German beer hall.

We visited two in this afternoon, one just for a cheeky stein, and the other for dinner. So the highlight was the latter, where we were able to enjoy a couple of big steins, and 5 different types of German sausage. Sarah was in flavour country.

Now for the intrepid traveller out there that is too cool for touristy stuff, you would not enjoy dinner in this place. It is for tourists.
There is an oompah band playing boisterous German folk music, the waiters are all in Lederhousen, and there is a lady in full-kit selling oversized pretzels for 5 euro. Best of all, however, is in attempt to manufacture that ye olde German brauhaus feel, the pub gives free beer to locals who come dressed up in costume. So there was about half a dozen drunk-as-skunks old men dressed in silly hats and lederhousen, dancing with tourists and getting photos taken with stoked Asians. It was great. The food and beer were good, and the vibe in the huge hall was fantastic. I highly recommend it. But only to proper tourists.

The next morning we managed a quick sausage and doughnut breakfast (Sarah) before wandering the streets until it was time to head off. We picked up our chariot from the Avis office at the train station. We were given a free upgrade to a station wagon and free winter tyres. And we had booked through Budget! It was great, Budget is such a cheap company that they are often too cheap to even have an office in their locations! So they sell you to Avis. For the rock-bottom price of a Budget 1.2L 2-door hatch rental, we had the pleasure of Avis service and a rockstar car. Everything was coming up Marty. It was a slight disappointment that with all the Kraut Kars available in Germany we were in a Ford. But you can’t have everything.

After some minor initial teething problems associated with a large car, tiny Munich streets, a malfunctioning GPS, and the fact that they put the steering wheel on the wrong side of the car, we were away along the Romantic Road. Our first stop was something that the Madden Family has been looking forward to for a long time. Schloss Neuschwanstein is a beautiful castle perched on a small mountain at the foot of the German Alps. There is a picture of it stuck on the roof of the Madden Family’s Dental surgery. So for the last 20 years the Madden’s have been gazing longingly at this gorgeous castle while the dentist was doing his thing.

Sarah will tell you, the real thing does not disappoint. This is a really beautiful castle, in a really gorgeous part of the world. It was also covered in a blanket of snow that made it seem just magical. The castle was Walt Disney’s inspiration for the Snow White Castle that is their logo and I can see why, the place conjures up that fairytale feeling.

There is another castle on the next hill too, Schloss Hohenschwangau, but it was up a small hill and isn’t as nice as the Disney castle, so we skipped it. On any other hill in the world, it would be a destination in it’s own right. But it isn’t on another hill, it is here. I did take a picture of it though. That’s good enough.

Given the late start, we were starting to lose daylight, so we hightailed it to our next destination, Augsburg. It was a very pretty drive, we had the Alps out our window, snow-covered fields, pretty towns, churches, everything.

The next day was Sarah’s 29th Birthday. This momentous occasion was celebrated in the gorgeous surroundings of our eTap hotel. For those that don’t know eTap hotels, you probably never will. But they are great.

In any case, after some pressies, another sausage and doughnut breakfast, we were off to continue our journey down the Romantic Road. According to the Lonely Planet, yesterdays driving was the LEAST scenic of the tour. So we were excited. Then disappointed. The Lonely Planet is for douchebags.

While the scenery wasn’t as pretty (not even a single Alp) the medieval towns were really, really gorgeous. Small cobbled streets, pointey-roofed houses, with multi-coloured wood-paneled facades. Really pretty. Each town was similar but with it’s own feature, so we enjoyed visiting each.

Our destination this day was Rothenberg ob der Tauber. A gorgeous completely intact medieval city. It was considered too pretty by the Allies to bomb in World War 2 so it remains as is. Well sort of, I’m sure it wasn’t always full of christmas shops, teddy bears, pattiseries, cafes, restaurants and hotels.

Unfortunately, the good luck we had been having with the GPS decided to run out. Right when I needed it to step up and steer me through the tiny one-way street maze. For whatever reason, instead of entering the ancient city from the big gate in the city wall, we turned right. We then proceeded to drive around the city wall, descend the hill to the river before being told to ‘turn left in 100m’. Up a footpath. Next to a big sign that indicated ‘no cars’. Awesome. Stupid piece of junk wanted me to drive up a footpath through the nice gardens. Ridiculous. We figured it out in the end, and I didn’t even break it or throw it out the window. Unsurprisingly, this wasn’t the last time it sent us the wrong way. But I never trusted her tinny-girly voice again.

Rothenberg is beautiful and as a 29th Birthday present to Sarah my parents had paid for us to stay in a nice hotel right in the centre of town, the Romantik Hotel Markustrom. It was a really beautiful hotel in a gorgeous old building. We had a lovely room, with a great bathroom, and I had organised some birthday flowers, a cake and some German trocken (sparkling wine) to be waiting for us in the room when we checked in. It was great, they did a good job for me and Sarah loved it. A few glasses of wine and some cake was a great way to finish a lovely day for Sarah.

We also went out for a romantic dinner at a nearby restaurant. Sarah had some more sausage (she was enjoying German food). It was a little restaurant called ‘Bergerkeller’ and you should check it out if you go to Rothenberg. Delicious, inexpensive food with some great local beer. The host is a really nice guy too, Harry I think his name was, or Hans. Let’s go with Hans.

Unfortunately, when we returned to our hotel to call my Mum and Dad and thank them for our hotel we were told that my Mum’s Mum (Nanny) had died a few hours earlier. So it was a very sad end to an otherwise lovely day. Nan was the last of my grandparents and lived a full life of 90 years. I am sorry I was not at home for it, to be there for my mother and my Aunt and Uncle. But I was sending my love home. You really feel the few thousand kilometres between Europe and Australia when something like this happens. I will miss you Nanny, thank you for being the best grandmother a boy could ever want. Thank you for your lovely, warm and welcoming home and the love you showed me and my brothers.

The next morning, with slightly heavier hearts than the day before, we had a breakfast of birthday cake and coffee and hit the road again.
Our destination for the evening was Wurzburg about 50 km to the north. We arrived there at about lunch time and found it to not be as charming as we had hoped. It was the first dirty city we had seen in Germany, and to top it off it was inundated with drunk Germans dressed up in silly outfits. There was a parade on to celebrate Carnivale, and everyone gets smashed on the streets. It looked fun, but not being in a festival mood, we decided to push-off and go to Heidelberg for the night.

This turned out to be a great decision. Although not technically on the Romantic Road, it was a great end to it. Heidelberg is a really beautiful city. The old part is built-in a small valley on the Nekhar River. There is a large castle sat above the city, and the two hills make the city feel cozy and hidden. Add to that some awesome beer restaurants (Sarah found some more sausage), and you have a great stop. Heidelberg was my favourite city in Germany. So there you go, a seal approval from the highest source.

The next day we hit the Autobahn to Frankfurt. People talk up Autobahns, but they are just a big busy highway. The best bit is watching crazy lunatics in flashy cars hoon past you like you are standing still even though you are doing 120 km/h. You need to be careful when overtaking a truck, because even though you check a couple of times before pulling out, when you get out in the lane and check again there is a Ferrari in your mirror flashing his lights. Craziness. Lots of fun though.

To fill in the time, Sarah read aloud the book “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”. Which I am ashamed to admit, I enjoyed immensely. That crazy Miss Golightly. And if Sarah is going to talk incessantly anyway, she may as well read. It was great.

We dropped the car back at the Avis (no Budget in Frankfurt Hauptbahnhoff either) and had 12 hours to kill in Frankfurt before our midnight bus to Belgium. Luckily for us, it was a beautiful day, so we were able to walk along the river and take in the sights under a glorious blue sky. We had a nice sausage lunch and Sarah did some shopping in the big mall.

We then headed over the bridge south to try a few beers and have our last dinner in Germany. Sarah, wait for it, had the sausage platter. It was a fantastic last meal with good food and beer (and apple wine – the local speciality). They also serve their schnitzel with a green sauce of herbs and creme fraiche. It is fantastic. Try it if you are in town (everywhere has it).

We lingered in the restaurant chatting to some yanks for a little while before heading back to the train station to wait in the freezing cold for our bus to Belgium.

Bring on Belgique.

Love,

Marty

Czech it out!

We had a short bus ride in the afternoon from Vienna to Prague. I was a bit nervous about our accommodation choice in Prague. In my mind, it was the deal of the trip. Which means it could be hopelessly dismal. Luckily for us, the Hotel Inos, at a whopping 23 Euros per night (for both of us, including breakfast) was great. We even got put on the top ‘executive’ floor in a massive room with a bathtub and the breakfast each morning was fantastic (mmmmm Krapfen!). It could, and probably should, have been awful. I was very relieved that it wasn’t, as it was, at four nights, the longest stay outside London of our Euro trip.

We spent our first day in Prague exploring the castle district. We got the long castle tour pass which grants you entry to all the attractions, good or bad. Prague castle is the oldest ancient castle in the world and wandering around it’s cobbled streets you really get a glimpse of what life might have been like there many centuries ago.

The museum ‘The Story of Prague Castle’ was amazing. Out of any museum we have been to so far, the condition and quantity of the artifacts was astounding. They had funeral clothes from kings that were buried over 7 centuries ago, public records from the 14th century that looked like the fairy tale book at the start of a Disney movie and so much more. I think its wonderful that the Czechs have been able to hold onto so much of their own history and safeguard it over so many years. Marty was again teased by the old lady here for only wearing a t-shirt. They can’t believe it and neither can I! It is so cold.

The Old Palace was another favourite. The best thing was all the coats of arms decorating the walls of the room where they used to keep the land rolls. It seems everyone in old Bohemia got a coat of arms, from the King to the Scribes assistants assistant. Marty got in trouble off another old lady, but this time it was for trying to take a photo of the coat of arms without having purchased a camera license.

That night we went to a restaurant near our hotel, the Restaurant Josefine, for a delicious Czech meal. Since starting our European holiday, Marty and I have discovered that we are massive ‘sauerkraut’ fans. And so far, the red cabbage sauerkraut at Josefine’s is definitely my favourite.

The other two days were spent just wandering around the town enjoying the sights and food. Marty’s stand out meal was the ‘Pork Knee’ that he had for lunch one day near the Old Square. It was absolutely massive and surprisingly meaty. Marty savoured every second of it and has talked about it ever since. As far as I was concerned, I was just pleased to be in another city where sausage carts are the norm.

Another of the main attractions in Prague is the Charles Bridge. It is a beautiful old stone bridge spanning the river that provides great views of the castle area. It’s covered in hawkers and buskers and lined with various statues, most of which people rub for luck. It is really beautiful. We walked over it a few times during our three days exploring and loved it every time.

On the afternoon of the last day we set off to the top of Prague to visit a micro-brewery I had read about online, St Norberts. The beer was really, really nice and the views from the top of the hill were spectacular. My research for this particular part of the trip had paid off! Most of the beer in Czech was really good, but this was a bit special. The wine is not very good, so definitely when in Czech, drink the beer.

I was sad to leave Prague (and the Krapfen at Inos) behind. It was really nice to be somewhere for a bit longer than the usual 2-3 nights. With such a short time you are quite literally going from sight to sight and your itineraries don’t have much wiggle room. Prague was a slightly longer stay so we had time to see the sights as well as enjoy two full days of the aimless meandering that we fell in love with while travelling Asia. This hectic pace of travelling is definitely harder, but we can’t be on holiday forever unfortunately.

Our next stop is Bavaria in Germany which is really exciting but also sad as it means our European adventure is nearly over.

Sarah
xoxo

P.S To see all the photos of Prague click here.

An Austro-Hungarian Adventure

For our trip from Italy to Hungary, Sarah had booked us onto the overnight train. Not the nice one with the fancy bed bourgeois cabin thingy you can get, but the regular seated style. It turned out to be kind of great because I took a couple of sleeping pills and kissed the sky all night long. Even though the train stops about 15 times through the night, I didn’t miss a wink. In fact, when we passed through Croatia and Slovenia, Sarah had to wake me up for the security check-point. I woke up just long enough to say hi to the nice gentlemen with the oversized machine gun, but I would be asleep again before he had stamped the passports.

I think the trip was nice because it is low-season and so we had a 4-seater arrangement to ourselves. Thereby allowing both of us to put our feet up. I assume in high-season this would be more uncomfortable. Therefore, given the option, I would even prefer the bus in high-season so we would all be facing the same direction. I would hate to sleep with someone in my lap.

So after a nice 9-hour kip, I slowly started to come to somewhere in the Hungarian countryside. The sun was already up and the view out the window was frightening. The landscape was covered in snow. After looking out the window, Sarah turned to me, frowned, and whined “it looks cold”. My oath it did. And the weather in Venice had been so balmy, I was even getting about in a t-shirt. As I was reminiscing about the weather in Venice I managed to catch a glimpse of an old man in the centre of the snow-covered field, smack in the middle of nowhere, pushing an empty wheelbarrow. I reflected on just how tough life can be. Especially poignant as I ease into the 13 month of our trip.

Anyway, with little fanfare, we soon arrived in Budapest. It was only 11 am and so we still had 4 hours before we were allowed to check-in. To continue our tour of Europe’s most luxurious hotels, we were booked in at the easyHotel for a whopping 19 euro a night. The easyHotel is an offshoot off the easyJet company and runs on the same business model as its low-cost carrier.

The base rate for the room is cheap. But everything else costs money: early/late check-in, bag storage, breakfast, room clean, tv remote, wi-fi internet, extra/fresh towels, etc… So as long as all you want is a bed and a bathroom, you can get it cheap. What does come free is the fantastic service. And I mean that. Our reception lady was really fantastic, always happy and helped with touring itineraries and restaurant recommendations. A great surprise given the cost of the hotel.

So as I was saying, we couldn’t check-in early, so we locked our bags at the train station and went for a walk. In the snow. This was really, really cold. The first time I have been cold on this trip. Everyone (well, Mum really) was always banging on about how cold it is over here. And until now, I hadn’t seen it. Everything got put on. The jacket, the gore-tex outer shell, the gloves, West Ham beanie (for life), everything. Unbelievable. First glimpses of Budapest, albeit cold, were great. After a long walk back to the station and then to the hotel we had arrived.

Budapest is the self-proclaimed “Paris of the East”. With the tree-lined Andrassy Utca said to be Budapest’s Champs-Elyseey. And in case you hadn’t read my earlier post, I can’t think of a worse thing to call Budapest. So much better than Paris. They should call Paris the Budapest of the West. No scratch that, they should call it the Vung Tau of Europe.

I really loved Budapest, everything about it. I loved the majestic Danube separating Buda and Pest, with the gothic Parliament towering over its bank. The Palace and Buda Castle looming over it all, perched high on the hills. It was great. I recommend a visit to anybody.

Add to these sights some really fantastic stodgy food, some nice beer and wine, some lovely people, great shopping, and you have a place I like to hang out in. Thanks Budapest.

There is no way I can say this next bit without it sounding dirty, so I will have to just come straight out with it: Sarah’s favourite meat is ‘sausage’. She loves it. Beef, pork, chicken, devon, salami, pepperoni, frankfurt, whatever type, she can’t get enough. She doesn’t even care that you don’t really consider ‘sausage’ a type of meat from which you can choose your ‘favourite’. Nope, sausage.
So being in Hungary, we sought out a salami ‘showroow’. Sounds grand doesn’t it? But despite its fancy name it is pretty much just a deli with lots of salami. With the help of a very nice deli-lady we managed to buy about 7 different types of sausage. Sarah was in heaven. Throw in a few pickles that she also loves, and we had another patented picnic dinner. We were also able to get a sausage lunch above the deli for only 2 euro each. So her cheap side was also satiated.

With Sarah full of sausage, I was able to indulge in something I like doing. Like most overweight men of miscellaneous ethnic-origin, I love a good thermal bath. Budapest has about 6. I went to the very grand Szechenyi bath located in the large park at the end of Andrassy Utca. I chose this one because it is the only bath that has outdoor pools. It being about -3′C outside, I wanted to sit in a nice hot pool while being outside in the cold. This proved to be one of the best things I have done on this holiday.

If you go to Budapest, I recommend this. There are 3 pools outside in a very grand old building, one at 34′C that has jets and a whirlpool, one for doing laps, and one at 38′C where people seem to like to stand in and play chess. All are fantastic. Worth the price of admission alone is seeing all the 1950′s communist-style plastic swimming caps being sported by some of Budapest’s finest. There are also lots more pools inside the complex, so you can get your fill of the super hot 40+’C stinky water ones, and the cold ones if you’re keen. For me though, the outdoor were the key.

Before you ask, these pools are mixed gender and clothing is not optional (thank Christ). Although, some of these old birds in the small bikinis could do with putting on a few more feet of material. Sorry Walter, I didn’t take the camera inside with me.

After a really great couple of days, it was time for us to leave Budapest, hop on a bus, and go to Austria. I was expecting the countryside between the two nations to be a lot more rugged. To me, thinking of Austria and Hungary conjures up images of snow-capped peaks and castles. Nope. Flat as a tack. The small towns are pretty though.

Arriving in Vienna we were met with probably the best metro system we have come across so far. And that is saying something, even Budapest has a great metro system. The Austrian one is really great. Really fast, big and comfortable trains, and really easy to use. Australia’s major cities’ growth will forever be stifled by their poor public transport systems. Australia is currently experiencing a glut of revenue on the back of its resources boom. It is something that must be considered a sunset-economy, with a productive life of only 30 to 50 years at best. A good chunk of the government revenues from this raping of the countryside must to go towards making one Australian city great. Pick one, and only one (I don’t care which) and fix it up so it can compete on a global scale. Without doing so, Australia will remain as it has for the last 200 years: merely an outpost in a global economy.

Vienna has just been voted the world’s most liveable city, and I can see why (the metro would be a major factor). It is really beautiful, the food is fantastic and there are a million things to do.
Unfortunately for us, Vienna is also the most expensive city we have been to so far. Luckily for me, simple things make me happy. So while we were walking around the old town rather than riding in the back of a two-horse carriage, and instead of cordon bleu, we were eating Schnitzel cordon bleu (ham and cheese stuffed), we still had a great time. We may not have got tickets to go to an opera or a symphony, but we did queue up for over an hour for free tickets (in the standing area) to see the Vienna Boys Choir perform.

One luxurious thing we did do was go to the Sacher Hotel for the world-famous Sacher Torte. I say world-famous because according to Sarah everyone is meant to have heard of it and it is in every cook-book and on every dessert list blah blah blah. In any case, Sarah wanted to do it, and so after her lunch of street-vendor bratwurst (sausage!), she was all riled up to get a cake.

So we went to the hotel, were seated and had a piece of cake and a Vienna’ Melange (which is weak coffee with whipped cream in – too milky for me). Sarah had the classic, and I had the rum flavoured. To be fair, it was awesome. Especially, the rum version.

Although people say Europe is best in the summer, we got a taste of something you only get in the winter. In the Rathaus park, under the spires of the beautiful Rathaus, the Austrians had set up a large ice-skating rink, as well as some drink and food stalls. When it was lit up at night, it was really beautiful. The Austrian’s love it. I really enjoyed standing there watching the different people skate past. I particularly enjoyed the middle-aged men showing off and seemingly reminiscing of their good old days. It was a real treat.

We didn’t have a whole lot of time in Vienna, just the two nights, but we managed to get a lot of stuff in. We saw all the major sites, from the outside at least, and felt like we got a good look at the city. You could spend a lot longer in Vienna quite happily, but all the other stuff costs lots more money. So we will back, Vienna, but on a better budget.

And with that, just like the Ottoman’s so many years before, it was time to leave Vienna. Next stop, Prague.

Love,

Marty.

P.s. Click here to see the Budapest photos
Click here to see the Vienna photos.

A Romantic Pair – Venice and Verona

Organising the transport for this trip took me ages. Due to our bus experiences in Asia, Marty and I have become accustomed to slow and uncomfortable travel (emphasis on slow). With that in mind, really my only consideration when booking travel through Europe was price. Funnily enough, this means we get to experience most forms of transport – planes, trains, hire car, bus and the occasional ferry.

Our Paris to Venice leg was the first flight leg of our trip and we were a bit nervous having booked with the Irish cheapie, Ryan Air. It turns out that there was no need for concern at all, it was great. We took a bus out to the airport (a journey in itself as we got to travel one and a half hours into the French countryside) and managed to be one of the first in line for the flight. The unseated arrangements of Ryan Air actually worked in our favour. We are usually on cheap fares and so are put up the back of the plane. But, as we know how to get into a queue early, we beat the crowd and ended up sitting in the 5th row in a nice enough seat with more leg room than we’re used to. Yes, the Ryan Air constant advertising of goods gets a little tedious, but it wasn’t anything the iPod couldn’t drown out. We arrived in Venice at 10pm quite pleased with it all, especially seeing it was not only the cheapest option but also the quickest by a whopping 13 hours.

After a beautiful night-time Grand Canal ferry ride and some minor confusion navigating the maze-like streets of Venice in the dark, we found our hotel. It was sneakily hidden in a street with a closed iron gate you had to push open. The hotel was gorgeous and definitely the nicest place we have stayed so far on our extended holiday. A massive thank you to Marty’s parents for the thoughtful engagement gift of three nights of bliss. Although we are quite used to budget travelling and are generally happy enough with a room that doesn’t smell or have any unwanted guests (spiders, scorpions, rats etc), this luxury wasn’t lost on us. We had kind of forgotten the feeling of walking into a room and being blown away with how lovely everything is. We had almost forgotten how nice it is to actually want to stay in your hotel.

It was more a suite than a room, with a little hallway separating the bathroom from the bedroom. The best part however was the location. We had two windows in our room where we could look out over a gorgeous canal in the centre of Venice. From about 9am an endless stream of gondolas ferrying charmed tourists being serenaded by Venetian gondoliers would drift below, filling our room with the quintessential sounds of Venice.

The second best thing was the breakfast. The chocolate and banana crepe I had each morning was just fantastic and even came with a little butterfly cut out of a banana on the top. I am certainly missing them now!

Our two days in Venice were spent wandering around seeing the main sites and getting lost exploring the little alleys and lanes. I suppose after seeing so many paintings of Venice, particularly in the last few weeks, I shouldn’t have been surprised by just how closely the paintings match the real thing. It has a certain dream like quality in parts and gazing over the waters at the beautiful churches and buildings I had to keep reminding myself it was actually real.

A highlight was the Basilica de San Marco which was just remarkable. The best part though was the look on Marty’s face when he realised what was meant by ‘relics of the Saints’. Priceless.

Thanks to the recommendations of our friendly hotel staff (aaaahhh helpful staff is such a nice change), we had a couple of fantastic meals in Venice. One night involved a trip to the 900 Jazz Club for pizza and I would thoroughly recommend it to anyone visiting Venice. It was down a dark little alley and filled with locals enjoying the candle lit tables and sounds of jazz radiating throughout the restaurant. And the pizza was so so good and reasonably priced. We enjoyed a jug of house wine too which we couldn’t believe costs so little in Italy (AUD12 or so per litre!). We’d heard Venice was a bit of a gastronomical wasteland, but from our experience there are definitely good places to be found!

We felt like crying when it was time to leave and all too soon we were on the fast train to Verona. We’d wanted to see a little more of Italy than just Venice so Verona seemed a good place to go being only an hour away. After finding and settling into our much less lovely hotel we set out to see the sights.

The first stop was the 1st century Roman Arena. It’s the third largest Roman amphitheatre in existence and would seat up to 30,000 people, albeit a little squashed at full capacity. When we visited, the Verona marathon was on and the final leg was through the centre of the Arena which was actually pretty cool to see. The best thing was walking through the darkened arcades below and walking up the old stone stairs into the light and imagining what it must have been like when it was filled with a roaring crowd. The not very gladiator like Marty sprained his quadricep whilst stepping out onto the harrowed ground. Awwwwww. He should think himself lucky, a few centuries ago he would have been fodder for the lions.

Now, when you buy your admission to the Arena you are offered the ‘Verona Card’ for 10 euros (which includes entry). So we ended up buying it as the arena entry was 6 euro on its own. So, heavily invested as we were, we spent the rest of our day working our way down the list of so-called ‘attractions’, trying to maximising our outlay.

So second on the list of attractions was the Torre dei Lamberti, a large tower which gave great views of Verona. We chose to take the stairs rather than pay the additional 1 euro each to use the lift. At least this time it was out of guilt rather than cheapness (we’d just eaten the biggest and greasiest pizza slice of all time).

Next came the ridiculous museum ‘Casa di Giulietta’. I can’t believe anyone would specifically pay to go into this ‘museum’ but it was actually really popular. The old house of the Capulets was kind of cool to see but it was a circus. There was a line to stand on the famous balcony (the one that inspired Shakespeare’s play) and an even bigger line downstairs to fondle the shiny left breast of the Juliet statue (allegedly you will find a new lover within a year by doing this). The museum itself was awful and contained some strange furniture of no historical significance and a few outfits worn by unknown actors in the local playhouse whilst reenacting the famous scene.

Next on the list was more Shakespeare silliness at the tomb of Juliet. The tomb itself was just a drinking trough that was placed underground for tourists to come and see. That being said the building was pretty cool and filled with some great Veronese frescoes.
Although there were plenty more things the Verona card would allow us admission too, we had seen enough and so finished up at the 14th century fortress, the Castelvecchio, which was actually really good.
There was an interesting museum with armour and the like and an art gallery with more frescoes and paintings. We enjoyed walking along the walls around the castle and down the old main entranceway. Our day finished with a great pasta and wine meal in town and so all in all it was a good day.

The next day was a long one as we had already done all of the sights we had wanted to see on our 10 euro card and so we sat in various spots around the city reading before taking the train back to Venice and then onto Budapest. We really liked Verona but I think it could really be seen as a day trip from Venice because it is definitely a much nicer place to stay in.

We loved everything about Italy and we would definitely love to come back one day and spend a bit more time looking around.

Arriverderci,

Sarah

P.S
Click here to see all of the Venice Photos.
Click here to see all the Verona Photos

Le grille, what the hell is that?

After returning from Chez Nick’s in Watford, we spent a quiet night in at home (G’s house). James was out for his flatmate’s birthday and G was in Barcelona doing whatever it is he does (hat salesman, I think), so we had the place to ourselves. Having severely overdone it for the past week we decided to go light by purchasing a pre-made meal from Marks and Spencer supermarket. It was delicious and so cheap and easy. Just heat and serve. Supermarkets in London are light years ahead of Australia. The price difference is surprising too. It boggles the mind. Sarah has an unhealthy obsession with supermarkets, so she has just been in heaven. Shame she has to go home to Coles at the Junction.

Anyhow, the next day we set off for our European leg of the holiday. First stop was Paris. We caught the bus and not the train, because we are cheap. 8 hours instead of 4, but much more to see (I assume, having not done the other), it was a fantastic journey. One thing I liked was the megatrain you get for the English Channel Crossing. The bus drives into and parks in a giant train carriage sent from the future to protect you. It is wicked, and half an hour later you are suddenly in France. Sacre Bleu!

I had been looking forward to Paris for some time. Not only because mon francais est parfait, but because my sister Tam lived here for a few years. Because of that, She is prone to go on and on about Paris and so I was quite keen to see what all the fuss was about. Add to that all the chat about it being the most romantic city in the world and my interest was piqued.

Did I mention we arrived on Valentines Day? Yeah, Paris doesn’t seem to care about Valentines Day. I guess every day is Valentines day in the city of love? Maybe. All I know is that we couldn’t decide on a restaurant to eat at and wondered around for ages before we ended up sharing a carafe of wine and a sub-par crepe at a bistro on Rue de Viragaud. Pas mal.

First off, Paris is expensive. Not only for food but especially for accommodation. For a measly 47 euros a night we were able to afford a room at a Formule 1 hotel in the ghetto without a bathroom. N’est pas bon. Paris has a ring road that runs around it called the Periphique, and this becomes effectively the border of what people call ‘Paris’. We were inside it. But only by about 15 metres (you could see it out our widow). However, it wasn’t all that bad because we were near a metro station and everything was only 15 minutes away.

The Parisian metro stinks and is dirty but it is very cheap and convenient. You also get to enjoy the Parisian stereotype on every journey. All the frowny, grumpy, frenchy faces are very amusing to me. At peak hour with the trains bursting at the seams, a middle-aged battle-axe of a women with a face reminiscent of ‘The Sad Clown’ refused to move her bag or her legs for anybody. She was effectively taking up 3 seats. And people just allowed it. I’m not sure I could deal with it on a day-to-day working grind, but for a few days visiting it was amusing. Well done Tam for lasting so long. I would have gone postal inside a year.

I think I now understand why South East Asia is what it is. Given the French Colonial influence throughout Indochina’s formative years, I feel a lot of what we saw in Asia was truly quite French. Not just the architecture and fact that you can buy a baguette absolutely anywhere, but also that background scent of urine and faeces is quite Parisian. Add in the sensation you get that everyone around you hates your face and would step over their own mother to rob you and the two could be the same place. It was all very familiar. Paris and South East Asia certainly share that certain je ne sais pas.

In the three days we had in Paris we got a lot done. We hit all the major sites: the Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, Pantheon, Arc de Triomphe, Hotel des Invalides, Les Catacombes, Sacred Heart, etc… There are a lot of things to see and we got most of the major ones in. All of them are really great too. Except the catacombs. They were crap.

The Eiffel Tower was more impressive than I thought it would be. It is actually quite massive. I always though it wasn’t, that it’s size was kinda talked up. But, when you see it from the hill of the Sacred Heart dominating the entire cityscape, or when you are standing underneath it, you appreciate it. She’s big.

When we went up the Tower we (obviously) walked up instead of taking the elevator because it is a saving of 8 euros (total for 2 people). Love those stairs. The view, even from only half way up (its an extra 10 euros to go to the summit) is exceptional. We were lucky to get it on a clear day, so it was really gorgeous.

Now Paris is a very expensive city (did I mention that?). So a lot of things that people like to do here cost a packet. Like eating out at all the bistros and nice restaurants or drinking champagne, finishing your plankton or whatever. What I liked, because clearly after 12 months on holiday we couldn’t afford such extravagance, was that there were some really great things to do on a budget. Sarah and I would scope out the different delis, boulangeries, pattiseries and fromageries to sort out a delicious picnic style meal. It was great fun, a test of my French, and the best bit was we ended up with meals made up of amazing cheeses, salamis and baguettes with tarts and cakes for desserts. Top it off with a couple of great bottles of french wine (each night) for only a couple of euro and we were sorted. It was so good.

I also enjoyed the Louvre. I suppose that isn’t a surprise because a lot of people like the Louvre. I just liked the scale of the place. This is one of the greatest museums in the world, and to make sure everyone knows it, the French make it ridiculously massive and house it in one of the grandest and prettiest buildings and gardens I have ever seen. It’s just silly. We ended up spending about 5 hours in the Louvre in two stints (because the ticket lasts all day). I recommend the paintings and the Napoleon Apartments. The apartments were great, the French were (and I suppose still are) into some really gaudy, gaudy overdone crap.

The Louvre is also good for the circus surrounding the Mona Lisa. A small painting with punters crawling all over it. Seriously, there are so many more impressive paintings to see (in my opinion). I don’t understand the allure.

The other thing I like about the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower, are the gypsies. There are soo many of these silly dressed clowns trying to blend into the crowd. No I didn’t drop anything, I won’t give you any money for being lucky, and you can’t sift through my pockets. One actually swore at me (in English) and told me to go away after I laughed at her trying to scam a couple of yanks in front of the other tourists. A little scary as I am sure there are more of them and I didn’t want to get stabbed, but seriously, don’t dress in that silly head scarf if you want to blend into the crowd. Mon dieu.

And with that, our time in France was done. Short, but very sweet. We are now off to Venice. It is strange to be burning through countries so quickly after the travelling year we have had. We arrive, start to settle in, and then we are off again. It is very different to Asia where we knew on arrival that we would be spending at least a month in the country. Vive le difference.

Allez les Bleus.

Love,

Marty.

A trip to the countryside and more football…

After being in London for a week it was time to leave the big city for a trip into the south English countryside. We picked up our budget car rental (upgraded – snap!), buckled up and set off on the English motorway. Our lack of knowledge of English road rules became quickly apparent when we realised we had no idea the speed limit on the motorway and spent the first little while going quite fast with multiple cars whizzing past at varying speeds. If you ever visit England and drive onto the motorway, the speed limit is 70mph although most cars seem to go much much faster than this!

Other than that and a few navman teething problems everything went without incident and we quickly found ourselves at our first destination – the Avesbury Stone Circle. The Avesbury Stone circle is slightly older than the nearby Stonehenge and is considered one of Europe’s finest Neolithic monuments. There is, as expected, numerous theories about why it is there but no-one is quite sure. We found it impressive and enjoyed being able to freely walk around the stones.

Next we visited the city of Bath. Originally founded by the Romans,
Bath is named for its hot springs that bubble up from deep underground and are said to cure just about anything (I’m not sure how these statements would sit with the inhabitants who were ravaged by the plague in the middle ages). We had a wonderful time wandering around the town taking in the Bath’s (which you can no longer go sit in!), the Bath Abbey and the Pulteney Bridge. But the best thing really was just the city itself. Every street was magical and we loved it. Definitely a place I would love to come back to with more time.

After that we drove to the Wells Cathedral. It was absolutely stunning and one of the best buildings I have ever seen. Built between 1180 and 1508 it was meant to conjure up a feeling of divine majesty for those approaching and it definitely did for us. It was just such a shame that it was raining pretty badly at this point making our visit a short one.

We got back on the road and back tracked 10kms to the town of
Cheddar, famous for the cheese that originated here in the 12th century. Given the weather we just drove through the gorge before visiting the Cheddar Gorge Cheese Company shopfront. We were able to sample a number of cheddars of varying vintages and we both agreed our favourite was the cave matured cheddar. This is cheese matured in the same way it was all those centuries ago – in Cheddar cave. Something about the minerals in the water which drips onto the cheese gives it a fantastic, almost nutty taste. With a little bag of cheese to take away we set off for our destination and inspiration for our trip through the country – the Jeff and Jill of Brixham.

About a month ago, back in Newcastle, we were at a BBQ at our friends Amy and Tim’s. The BBQ was for Amy’s parents, Jeff and Jill, and Tim’s brother Sam and his girlfriend Laura. When we arrived we were introduced and Amy explained about our upcoming trip. Without any hesitation Jeff and Jill invited us to come stay with them in Brixham to see the real England and we happily accepted. And we are well glad we did as we had a wonderful time.

When we arrived we were treated to a real homemade Devon cream Tea! For those not in the know, a cream tea isn’t tea with cream in it (as we thought) but tea served with jam and cream on scones. The scones with Devon (not Cornwall) clotted cream were absolutely divine. Definitely the best we’ve had.

Next we were off to the local Weatherspoons, home to the cheapest pints in England. We had some pints and a curry dinner there (for once mine was the best) and then walked through the town to the harbour. It was really pretty, even at night, and I enjoyed walking down the pier, looking at the fishing boats with nets and ropes everywhere and the smell of sea in the air. Our destination was the Brixham yacht club where we enjoyed a drink looking over the twinkling lights of the harbour all the way across the bay to Torquay.

We finished our evening having a good chat with Jeff and Jill back at theirs accompanied by some of the most delicious peach wine ever made and the cheddar cheese we bought at the cave. Definitely a great day.

The good times continued when we woke the next morning (Marty was battling) to the smell of a full cooked English breakfast. Fantastic bacon, sausages, eggs, mushrooms and tomatoes awaited us. It was sooooo good!

After breakfast we followed Jeff and Jill on a driving tour of Brixham and some surrounding villages. We drove through numerous country lanes, past the place William of Orange held his first parliament, saw the village where Amy’s Tim lived and also a memorial to the brave but hapless Wills (of Burke and Wills who was born in the village next door, Totnes). After waving farewell we set off for the famous Stonehenge.

I have to admit, Stonehenge was better than I thought it would be. The stones were actually bigger than I had imagined and it really was spectacular sitting up on a hill surrounded by barrows. I didn’t actually know what ‘barrows’ where prior to the trip but now I know they are ancient communal burial sites. If you are ever driving around in the south English countryside and spy a funny little mound that doesn’t look natural it is most likely a couple of dozen dead people.

In any case, we enjoyed seeing the Henge. Perhaps even more, we enjoyed the homemade Cornish Pasties and lovely sandwiches Jill had sent us off with. Marty was loving it!

After a detour to Windsor Castle we were back in London. All in all we absolutely loved our trip through the countryside and can’t thank Jeff and Jill enough for not only their wonderful English hospitality but giving us the idea of going in the first place – I’m so glad we did!

Back in London we went out for drinks and dinner with Gordon and James. Our first stop was The Ten Bells Pub for a drink. This was the pub where Jack the Ripper found his victims. I was careful to watch out for any unsavoury characters while I enjoyed my cider! Only Marty appeared on the radar.

Afterwards was something I have looked forward to forever – a Brick Lane Curry! It’s the famous curry street where the four of us quickly negotiated a deal for a curry house. The curries were fantastic (well, Marty made a bad choice but that was his loss) and I loved it.

Next on the list was something special for me, a trip out to Watford to stay with our friend Nick Brown (see previous post) and watch my beloved Burnley FC play. I don’t exactly know why I love Burnley, but most of it stems from my love for their goal keeper, Brian Jensen.

I really, really love Jensen. He plays with such passion and dedication. Although he wasn’t playing on the day, I enjoyed him warm up with the other goalkeeper. The game itself was extremely entertaining. We sat in the stands with the other Burnley supporters whom we couldn’t understand a word of (they’re from the North).

Regardless, the excitement of the crowd was infectious and we all jumped up and celebrated when the keeper for the opposition (Watford) kicked the ball into the back of his central defender and it deflected back into the goal. Go Burnley. Shortly afterwards those cheats at Watford managed to scrub up a goal of their own. But, just after half time, all the hopes of the Watfordians where dashed when Burnleys other good player, Eagles, scored a wonderful goal.
Shortly afterwards, Eagles struck again and crossed a great ball to the Iwelumo who successfully buried the ball in the back of the net. Burnley were the victors 3-1 and I was thrilled!

The night only got better when Nick cooked us a great Bangers and Mash meal, followed by pudding with DEVON custard (why bother with custard from anywhere else?) and ‘match of the day’ BBC TV show (THE thing to do on Saturday night in England – it is wonderful and I wish we had it back home).

The following day we went for a great English breakfast, including black pudding, before heading back to London. A massive thanks to Nick for having us and showing us around his neck of the woods – it was gorgeous and another slice of England that we are lucky to have been able to see.

I’ll leave you with one of the more memorable Burnley chant’s.

No-one likes us
No-one likes us
We don’t care
We are Burnley
Super Burnley
We are Burnley
From the North
Go Clarets!

Sarah.

Like my dreams, they fade and die.

No, this won’t be an emo post, this is simply one of the snappy lines from the West Ham Untied song. I am now, as they say, West Ham 4 Life.

This Sunday was football day. It has long been a dream of mine to go and watch a game of the English Premier League. Today that lofty dream of mine was fulfilled. I was off to the infamous Upton Park to watch the mighty West Ham United take on the visiting Birmingham City. It wasn’t the greatest spectacle of the beautiful game I love, but it was a relegation dogfight between two teams desperate for a win.

For those of you that don’t know, getting tickets to an inner-London football game can be quite difficult. The likes of Chelsea, Arsenal, Tottenham and Fulham are sold out months in advance and even then tickets are only offered to paid up members. There is even a waiting list for that privilege (Tottenham’s is 30,000 deep). But, when faced with such problems simply look at getting tickets to games involving the struggling clubs or those in financial trouble. With West Ham stone cold bottom of the league and Birmingham only a couple above them, tickets for this fixture were available to anyone silly enough to want to go. Although I did have to sign up to be a Hammer member for 10 quid. Not a problem really, because as I mentioned earlier, I am now West Ham for life. I should get a tattoo…

This talked-up clash of the titans turned out to not be. The game fizzled, with poor play only interrupted by poor refereeing. The home team ended up going down 1-0 to a soft goal conceded after a needless free kick was given away in a dangerous area. But, all the fun stuff goes on in the stand so I was still stoked.

I come from a parochial town in Newcastle and like many Novacastrians I love going to the Knights and getting stuck into the ref and the opposition. But my little town has nothing on the likes of East London. The entire stadium could often be found chanting “the referee’s a w*nker” after several dubious decisions. This included the 4-year-old sitting in front of us, next to his mum (also chanting). Better again was the Birmingham striker being offered up a noisy and repetitive “freak!”, followed by a riotous chorus of the uplifting “How’s the circus?”. Not a very nice thing to be saying to anybody, 7-foot tall Serbians have feelings too.

Those are the only chants I feel I can safely put in this blog, my mum reads this after all. They may also be the cleverest. Yep.

Clearly, it was the whole spectacle that I enjoyed. Arriving on the tube from West London and walking out onto the famous Green Street. Striding along with thousands of quick talking Cockney’s bound for Upton Park. Everyone dressed in colours, numerous burger vans and illegal counterfeit supporters gear stalls crowd the footpath (I got a beanie), the crowd noise occasionally peirced by a loud chant of “irons!” or the West Ham song, until amongst the shops and townhouses a giant stadium suddenly appears. This is West Ham.

Even the queue to get through the gate was an event, with some of the most colourful language you are ever likely to hear. Including one gent offering an apology to the father of two young sons for “his f*cking swearing”. Awesome.

On top of that I was meeting up with a good mate of mine from my football days at Sydney Uni, a Mr Nick Brown, who I hadn’t seen in 18 months. So it was great catching up with him.

Although the football was ordinary and you can’t take any beer back to your seats, it was real highlight of this holiday. I thoroughly recommend trying to get to a game of football in England. Go to any game. It doesn’t matter who, it is the modern version of the ancient gladiatorial games and something to be a part of, at least once.

The next day we were off to Brighton to catch up with a couple of Newcastle mates, the Harris sisters: Phil and Tim. Phil has been living in Brighton for the last couple of years doing something-er-other and Tim (a.k.a Destructo) has been living the life of Riley in Canada and beyond for the last 5 years or so and has spent the last 5 months in London. Having not seen either for a few years it was sure to be great night.

The day was spent wandering the sights of Brighton, beginning with the famous Pier. Luckily, we were blessed with some sunshine so the town looked great with a blue sky backdrop. The Pier is basically a Carnie pit full of crap food and rides and must be an absolute circus of filth in the summertime. Thankfully, it was winter and quite cold, so no zoo. Although Poms were still sunbathing in beach chairs. Albeit in big coats with hats and gloves on (what is wrong with these people?).

After that we wandered the Lanes of Brighton. The Lanes are just small pedestrian lanes full of little shops and things, and are actually quite pretty. But after about 20 minutes of that we got bored and so it turned into something of a pub crawl. See a few lanes, have a pint. See a lane, then have a pint. And so on and so forth until Phil finished work.

From that point on, um, everything kinda goes foggy. But we had a great night and made it home safe. Although, I was a little sore the next day. It is great to catch up with old mates and it be like nothing has changed, just the location. Phil, thanks for having us mate. It must’ve been hard getting up at 6am to go to work. But, think how hard it was for me. You woke me up. And it took me almost 3 minutes to get back to sleep. Still, it was awesome.

Brighton is not without its charm, and is worthy of a visit. Though I would say to go in low season because it isn’t busy or expensive. And trust me you won’t want to swim at the “beach” anyway.

Next stop, South West England.

Love,

Marty.