Swiss Air

I know, I know, it has been far too long since I have written here…

The basic truth of the matter is that since summer ended I have not been travelling quite so much and by default haven’t had to much to write about.

Of course I did get myself to Geneva last week…

I had decided not to go away again following a quick weekend in Barcelona for the sole purpose of catching the last of the summer sun and a long weekend in Ireland.
However… the prospect of some 12 weeks in London before heading back to Australia for a month in December turned out to be too long, so I found some cheap air-fares and sorted a weekend in Switzerland. Geneva probably would not have been my first choice, maybe Zurich or Lucern, but the price was right and it offered the benefit of Lake Geneva and the nearby town of Lausanne.

A couple of weeks before I left, my workmate Claudia decided she too would like to see Geneva so I had a travel buddy!

We flew out of London City airport, which is definitely London’s most convenient airport, and just over an hour later landed in Geneva. A quick bus ride and we were at our accommodation.
It is a very pretty place… a bit of a cross between the lakes of New Zealand’s south Island and the North Shore of Sydney Harbour and we were lucky enough to strike two sunny days. The first dawned hazy, so we couldn’t fully appreciate the views during the train trip around the lake to Lausanne.

Lausanne apparently started life as a Roman garrison town about the same time as London… The town sits on a long steep slope that rises away from the Lake and, as any good garrison should be, the old town is located at the top of the slope. That however, leaves you with the challenges of hiking up the cobbled streets from the train station. Well worth the struggle though. We gathered a map from the tourist office at the station and followed the marked trail through ancient markets, past the Cathedral, the Bishop’s Chateau and up and down narrow winding streets and stairs. Lausanne is not a huge town and an hour’s walk saw us back where we started, at the train station, and starting the walk down toward the lake in search of lunch (and maybe someone who could speak English! or even German - that being Claudia’s native language).

The lake shore in Lausanne is dominated by the yacht harbour and we settled into a cafe overlooking it to eat food we had ordered via sign language. Claudia ended up with a sweet crepe and I with a burger and fries (which was generally, if not exactly, what we had wanted). Thankfully the food was very good… must be the French influence!

Walking along the lake shore after lunch is a breathtaking experience… the view, even on a misty day was sensation, the water is crystal clear and the chateaux dotting the hills around the lake are picturesque.

Lausanne is home to the International Olympic Committee and the Olympic museum, sitting in a garden full of sculpture dedicated to Olympic sports, overlooks the lake.
Not really having time to go through the entire museum, we perused the gift shop, chatted to the group of Australians we met in the court yard (you can’t escape them!) and then wandered through the sculpture garden.

Despite having planned only a morning in Lausanne, it was 3pm by the time we got back to Geneva. Knowing the town would be pretty much closed on a Sunday, we took advantage of our remaining Saturday afternoon and headed into the city. The main shopping street was a hive of activity, but as it was like main streets everywhere (except, perhaps, more expensive) we walked up into the old town. Its streets are narrow, cobbled and lined with art galleries selling paintings you would only expect to see in a nation’s art collection… old master paintings, priced beyond comprehension, peered out from shops staffed by very stiff looking people, seated at baroque desks, talking on mobile phones… the galleries were interspersed with antique shops selling astronomically priced furniture and objets d’art, and decorator shops selling upholstery, fabrics and wallpapers. Basically the old town of Geneva is a ‘Home Base’ for the ultra-rich… well, I guess they have to shop somewhere…

Passing all of these shops without opening the wallet we wandered into a square, found a table outside and enjoyed the passing parade as we drank out pricey coffees… day 1 in Geneva was just about over and we had not been bankrupted yet!

Sunday dawned better than Sunday… sunny and less hazy – by the end of the day the air had cleared enough to see Mont Blanc across the Lake.

We had planed to do a tour of the United Nations, however, a slight lack of prior research and an inability to actually find the entrance, meant we missed the 10am tour. The next was at 2pm and was 2 hours long, finishing too late for flights back to London. We commiserated with a magnificent brunch at Perle du Lac on the lakefront in Parc Mon Repos, a ferry trip across to Port Noir and then a walk in the sun along the lake front back into the city. All-in-all a rather nice way to spend a sunny day! So sunny that I actually felt a little burnt by the end of the day… clearly I have been away from Australia too long if I can get sunburnt by the sun in Europe in October!!! I will blame the altitude…

Claudia’s flight left an 2 hours before mine, so we parted company at the train station at 3pm and I wandered along Quai du Mont Blanc, enjoyed the views of the Lake and yachts, and watched as the mist gradually cleared from the distant Mont Blanc. By 8pm I was back in London, waiting for the Docklands Light Rail at London City Airport and wondering where my weekend had gone!

down by the Riverside

Considering I was at Buckingham Palace a couple of months ago, it seemed logical to complete the local duo and visit Windsor Castle.

It is easy to get to via a slow train from Waterloo or a fast one from Victoria. Waterloo being closer to home I chose the slow train and 90 minutes later (to cover a 45 minute distance) I was disembarking at Windsor and Eton Riverside Station and started my stroll up the hill to the Castle.

The day wasn’t perfect… slightly overcast and coolish (the first hint of the approaching winter was in the air) but is wasn’t raining and the slightly drab scene suited the castle and kept the tourists away.

As with Buckingham Palace, the tour is via a very well presented audio guide and takes you through the various areas of the castle open to the public… the most spectacular are the state rooms, St George's Hall and semi-staterooms. The latter having been restored after the fire a few years ago.

An unexpected highlight (especially for a guy) is Queen Mary’s Dolls house. It is far from being a dolls house and is in effect a scale model of a 19th century mansion. The house is about 6 feet high and completely furnished, even containing miniature, original, paintings on the walls. It is fascinating, and requires a lot more the few minutes you have, looking at it!

The tour also takes in St George's Chapel with its most magnificent ceiling. Alas, like Buckingham Palace, the Queen was not at home when I visited. I am starting to feel she is avoiding me!

Mumbles

Wales is a long way from Brisbane… a damn sight further than the Gold Coast or Sunshine Coast, and yet, it is a beach in Wales where I have first set foot on a surfboard (albeit for a only a few seconds at a time).

I first surfing attempt was at a small beach called Caswell Bay near to Mumbles (great name isn’t it!), a charming little beachside town about 5 miles from Swansea. The weather did not look promising. All week the Met Office forecast heavy rain and wind, and even as we drove from London on Friday night through heavy rain, weekend forecast was that same with the addition of flooding added for South Wales.

In true style for UK weather, Saturday dawned slightly cloudy, but dry and with only a light breeze. In fact the sun showed its face several times in the early afternoon. So, we headed for the beach.

As the trip had been arranged by one of my work-mates, we had a fair contingent present from the office; including 2 Directors, one of them being my boss. We all donned wetsuits as our instructor gave us a chat about the basics and then picked up our boards and fumbled our way out into the waves.

Again, the vagaries of British weather blessed us and we faced a 3-4 foot swell, very little wind, no sweep and a water temperature which was surprisingly bearable (although without a wetsuit it may have tested the endurance) which was just perfect as we were all of beginner standard.

Half an hour in and pretty much all of us had managed to get to our feet in some manner and after 2 hours we were looking quite… well… still like beginners really. We were having a ball, but starting to feel a tad weary. There is a surprising amount of effort needed. Not just in paddling out but in lifting yourself to your feet off the board. As I write this I am rather sore across the back of my arms.

And so, feeling satisfied, but tired, we retired to the pub for lunch and a pint or 2.

The following day dawned with even better weather than Saturday, unfortunately that meant there was no swell at all, so surfing was out, and while some of the group decided a swim would be in order (without wetsuits!) I decided on a more cosy way of passing the time and visited the local, cold, damp and crumbling castle. Oystermouth Castle sits on a hill overlooking the town. It’s not the world’s largest castle but for a huge entry fee of £1 you get to scamper over the ruins and take in the view of the town and bay.

The views are worth looking at. The Welsh coastline is striking. Small bays with sandy beaches and harsh rocky cliffs topped with emerald green fields forests. Next time, along with a spot more surfing, I think a bit of hiking is in order…

pussy cat, pussy cat

I have been in London since last November and I have been expecting, long before now, an invite to the Palace. Alas, none has been forthcoming. So, I have had to take matters into my own hands and go and take a look for myself.

A recent visit by friend Sam seemed a good excuse to wander up to Buckingham Palace and have a look around. Saturday morning found us queuing in the most civilised manner (with the exception of some very pushy – and I mean literally pushy – Spanish women) at the Ambassadors entrance. You get to see 19 state rooms (well that’s what the brochure says – I actually lost count) and you are soon overwhelmed by chandeliers, gilt mirrors and marble.

The high point is the state ballroom, currently laid out for a state dinner. Despite the milling throng and the waxworks footmen, the room is spectacular. The enormous number of plates and glasses is incredible and that’s before you get to staff, food and wine.

The tour finishes off in the garden and allows you to take your time and enjoy the lakes, lawns, trees and the ‘Royal Swamp’ as Sam identified what I am sure is considered a ‘pond’ by the gardeners. (But I have to admit it did have a swamp-like appearance)
And of course, like any great tourist attraction you can’t exit without passing through, in this case, the ‘Royal’ Gift Shop. We were both suckered into various purchases, but as gift shops go this one did have a certain air of quality… maybe it was all the plastic crowns and tiaras!

You know you are in Ireland when...

...people are drinking pints of beer at the airport when you arrive at 9:40am!

I spent my first day doing the booze tours... I bought a 'Dublin Pass' at the airport which got me my travel into the city and free access to most of the tourist attractions... pretty much got my value out of it on the first day, so I would recommend it to anyone visiting the city and wanting to go to a lot of tourist attractions.
I started at the Jameson's Distillery. A fantastic tour though the original distillery in central Dublin, finished off with a very pleasant whiskey - even at 11:30 in the morning (it was Ireland after all)

The distillery was followed that up with a tour of the Guinness Brewery. It was even better than the Distillery. I had lunch there... a very nice beef and Guinness stew washed down with a pint of the black stuff... did the tour and finished that off with another pint up in the bar on the roof with a great view of the city!Following all this drinking I thought it better to do something more sober, so I headed off to Christ Church Cathedral. While it was a very nice cathedral dating from Norman times I am fast reaching my quota of churches for the year! They are all starting to look the same!

The following morning I avoided religious sites, starting at Dublin Castle touring the state rooms, then taking the 3 mile walk to the old Gaol (also identified in the guide book as ‘Jail’ to help the American tourists) and finally back for a wander around the city itself.

Day 3, an early start and a train trip and I found myself in Limerick. It looked good on paper. In reality it’s a slightly sad place. There is no shortage of For Sale and For Rent signs. It does not have the beauty of the attractions of Dublin and felt depressed under the grey skies of the afternoon I was there. The afternoon was enough to see King John’s Castle, the Cathedral and a couple of small museums, and I was relieved to be on a train to Cork for the night.
Surely no trip to cork would be complete without a trip to Blarney Castle. It’s only a 15 minute bus ride from the city …and of course I kissed the famous stone (so if you have noticed any particular eloquence in my writing this posting you know why). Even without the stone the castle and grounds are worth visiting. Blarney is how a European castle should look; grey, foreboding, damp and slightly decayed, its age evident in every stone.

Right... well... clearly this is where the eloquence runs out...

an evening stroll in the East End

‘twas a dark and stormy night! …actually it wasn’t. The sun was setting over a clear skied London, throwing a golden light on the Tower and Sam and I were standing at the entrance to Tower Hill Underground station awaiting the start of the Jack the Ripper walking tour.

It was one of those things I had been meaning to do since I arrived, but it took the presence of a visitor to get it happening. The tour is conducted by London Walks (http://www.walks.com) who do a huge number of these type of things all over the city. I have done 3 now and they have all been great… but enough of the advertisement.
The tour was led by Angela, an Irish woman of substantial vocal capability. As she led us through the now gentrified streets of the East End she did her best to bring to life the dark, foggy world of the Ripper amongst the 1960’s office blocks and the roar of peak hour traffic. It wasn’t until we skulked down a side alley away from busy Aldgate to Mitre Square and the actual spot of one of the murders did she finally capture everyone. From here we stuck to back alleys which grew slightly creepy in the growing dark of evening despite the city bustling all around. Even in 2008 some of these lanes and alleys are isolated dark. Our guides graphic description of the 5th and final murder in a tiny alley off Artillery Lane provides the climax for the walk before we move to the final location, Christ Church Spitalfields (an edifice by Architect Nicholas Hawksmoor dating from the early 18th century) on one of the few street corners of the East End virtually unchanged since the Ripper’s time. The tour ends with a bit of supposition into who he might have been and the background of a few of the many suspects. Still know one know and it seems the lack of physical evidence still in existence will likely keep it that way. That of course does not stop the guesses… apparently he could even be buried in Brisbane, according to a recent article in the Courier Mail.

from birth to death of the Bard

I think I am getting worse at keeping up to day on this site!
The weekend before last I had 2 great days in Stratford upon Avon - the town where too much Shakespeare is not nearly enough.
Early Saturday morning I caught my first ever train from Marylebone Station and thus completed my list of excursions from the Monopoly board. Of all of London’s Station Marylebone is definitely the most charming. It is small and quaint and only caters for a handful of trains from its 5 or 6 platforms. It’s a far cry from the bussle of Kings Cross or Waterloo with its colourful potted flowers and staff who are almost friendly.
About and hour and half out of Marylebone and I was arriving at Stratford (well, Warwick Parkway to be precise) to be met by my hosts for the weekend.
Richard and Jill very kindly put me up for the weekend and showed me their town. After a quick cup of coffee in their delightful back garden we were off! First stop was Anne Hathaway’s Cottage a beautiful thatched house about 15 minutes walk from town and the childhood home of William Shakespeare’s wife. We strolled back to town to visit Hall’s Croft, the Holy Trinity church to see the grave of Shakespeare, wandered along the river and, after lunch, attempted to see Shakespeare’s birthplace. Repelled by the hoards queuing to get in we decide to visit first thing in the morning and headed off to Nash’s House and the site of Shakespeare’s house ‘New Place’ next door which now forms part of the gardens of Nash’s House (the home of Shakespeare’s granddaughter and her husband).
Across the road is the charming Guild Chapel (complete with some excellent contemporary tapestries created by Stratford locals – including a kneeler cushion by Jill).
Touring for the day done and feet weary we headed home for a quiet beer and some dinner before heading back to Hall’s Croft for a performance of ‘The Winter’s Tale’ by a group of local players. Staged in the courtyard at the back of the house, on a remarkably clear and barmy evening, the play was a great way to experience the work of Shakespeare amongst buildings he would have known.
Sunday morning dawned as sunny and warm as Saturday and saw us, bright and early, at Shakespeare’s birthplace to avoid the tour groups. The house was quiet as we wandered through but as we left, the tourist hordes again were massing for another busy day of tours.
The final place on the list to visit was Mary Arden’s House and Farm. The home of Shakespeare’s mother, the farm is about 10minutes drive from town and, I am told, a very pleasant walk along the canal on a nice day. Time was against me as I had a train to catch in the afternoon so it was the car for us. The farm is a working demonstration of Elizabethan farm live. Period livestock and crops are grown for use on the farm and in the farm kitchen pork was being roasted for lunch.
The farm also has a working falconry and a number of falcons and owls are kept, one being fed its breakfast of rat while we were there.
After a very pleasant lunch back in town and a walk through Harvard House (which was somewhat overwhelmed by display cabinets full of pewter) it was time to get my train.
Thanks again to Richard and Jill for their wonderful hospitality. It is always lovely to be welcomed into a home… especially when they take you on spec!

the London 8C Show

My photos definitely don't do it justice... even the colour is wrong. In the metal it is a deep, vibrant and slightly vicious red. Competizione Red to be precise and my pics make it look orange!

Forget every other motor car on display at the London Motor Show... they fade into insignificance... Bentleys, Jaguars, Ferraris even the Bugatti Veron matter not.

The Alfa Romeo 8C Competizione steals the show. Its not even displayed very prominently... tucked away at the back of the stand behind the Brera and 159 next to the also-new MiTo mini Alfa which does not have quite the same impact, but of course is not quite the same price either.

Well, my words are hardly going to do it any more justice than my photos so here they are.

Of course if anyone is wondering what to get me for Christmas...

The Championships

Last Saturday dawned sunny with scattered cloud. Good enough for me to venture to Wimbledon. The first leg of the journey was a 30minute train ride from Waterloo to Southfields Station via Wimbledon main station and then a 10minute walk up the road to join ‘The Queue’.

You see, I did not have a ticket, so, I had to do what 10,000 other people did that morning and sit in a field for 3 hours in order to buy one of the day tickets on offer. At about 12:30 I bought my Ground Pass ticket (the tickets to the show courts being sold hours earlier to those hardy enough to camp out overnight) and entered the grounds. £20 is not a great deal to pay for the entertainment on offer. A Ground Pass gives you access to all courts except Centre and Court 1 (although you do have to stand if you want to see Court 2) and is valid all day. It lets you wander around the 17 outside courts and watch whatever match happens to be on.

Next year I must remember to get myself in the lottery for tickets and save on the queuing bit, but I guess first time round it just adds to the experience.

My first half hour in the grounds was spent wandering about before I settled in front of a court with a match about to start. The match was a men’s doubles match between Americans, Bobby Reynold and Rajeev Ram and Daniel Nestor (Canada) and Nenad Zimonjic (Serbia). I was only going to watch the first set and move on, but 4 sets and some strawberries and cream later, I got up having seen the American pair beaten despite a valiant 3rd set fight back. Having lingered at the doubles I only saw the last set of Arnaud Clement’s match against Austrian Jurgen Melzer on court 18. The match was pretty much over by then with Clement winning in 4 sets after dropping the first.

There is a distinct elegance at Wimbledon. The umpires and lines-people are attired in blue blazers and cream trousers, the roses are in bloom and the crowds wanders sedately eating strawberries and cream or sipping Pimms. No one is in a hurry, there is no running (except on the courts) no loud voices, no screaming children. Even the drunken Australians are unusually reserved and quiet in their inebriation. As you walk between the courts all you hear the hollow thud of racquet on ball, the grunts of the Eastern European, women players and the polite applause (and occasional cheer) from the spectators. It's all very proper, just as it should be.

5 days in the sun

It seems quite a while ago now, but this time last week I was still in Turkey. I had arrived on a Saturday in the late afternoon, but early enough to check into my hotel and take an hour’s walk around the city. Istanbul is a city that envelops you immediately. Its myriad of tiny streets are easy to get lost in (as I found out a few days later trying to find my parent’s hotel) but in Sultanahmet they are lined with shops and cafes as they sweep around Haghia Sophia and the Blue Mosque.

I wandered back to my hotel and, with an early start the next day had dinner in the hotel, and went to bed.

6:30am found me sitting in the stuffy hotel lobby waiting for a tour bus to pick me up, and by 6:45 I was on my way through the suburbs of Istanbul to Gallipoli - the required Turkish pilgrimage for Australians and new Zealanders. Gallipoli is a 5 hour drive over some rather average roads. Thankfully the 12 seater tour bus was air-conditioned and quite comfortable. After a brief stop for breakfast and a half hour for lunch we rolled into the Gallipoli Battlefields National Park.

I was slightly unprepared for the beauty of the Gallipoli Peninsular. It is harsh and rugged country covered mostly in pine forests but those hills offer spectacular views of the Aegean Sea and the Dardanelles and the water itself, particularly at Anzac Cove, is crystal clear.

My tour took me to all the poignant places, Anzac Cove, Lone Pine, The Nek, Chanuck Blair and a handful of cemeteries as well as the Turkish Cemetery.

As my tour was two days, I had an overnight in Canakkale, a town on the Asia side of the Dardanelles. I hadn’t been told the name of my hotel, and based on my Istanbul accommodation, was expecting a facility of modest quality. I was pleasantly surprised when the tour guide dropped me off at a rather pleasant beach resort about 20min out of town. My room had a nice view to the Gallipoli Peninsular I had just visited across a white sandy beach dotted with umbrellas. Arriving about 5pm I had plenty of time for a swim and some time in the sun (a real luxury living in London).

The next morning saw me again in a stuffy lobby waiting for the tour bus. This time I was off to Troy. People had told me there wasn’t much to see of the city, and to some degree they were right. There are no standing buildings and the excavations are quite complicated as there are actually 9 cities built on one top of the other (The city made famous by the Iliad and Helen of Troy is the 6th apparently) most destroyed by earthquakes, but you do start to get a feel for the city and if someone bothered to mow the grass a little more often it would make for a great attraction. If nothing else it’s quite nice to walk where legends were made and to stand in what’s left of a temple built by Alexander the Great.

And so, I started my long bus ride back to Istanbul to catch up with my parents who were arriving the same day.

Arriving back in town about 5pm was not the greatest idea as the traffic was atrocious and I finally got to my hotel about 7. A quick shower and I was off to meet the parents at their hotel, a tram ride and lots of wandering about small streets later, I made it.

We saw a few sights together over the next 2 days. We started with Haghia Sophia and the Blue Mosque, shopped and haggled at the Grand Bazaar and the Spice Bazaar (although haggling was much less productive here) and spent half a day at the Topkapi Palace. Saying good-bye to my parents, they were off to do a cruise on the Bospherus and I had to catch a flight back to London, I had just enough time to descend into the Basilica Cistern, an amazing Roman water reservoir under the plaza between Haghia Sophia and the Blue Mosque. The space is incredible and is home to some very large fish. It was apparently undiscovered until the 1960s - I would recommend a visit to anyone! Well the whole city is worth a visit…

Pavilion

I can’t say I was expecting dragons and snakes and palm trees and gilt sea shells… from the outside the Royal Pavilion is a highly ornate, but monochrome building in the pale beige of English limestone. Its towers and domes and minarets have the look of faded glory. A building once grand, but now stripped of its colour and life. It sits within small grounds close to the surrounding streets of Brighton looking intriguing, but somewhat less than a Royal palace.

You enter through a small portico into a low ceilinged room painted in pale peppermint green. It is the first splash of colour but is still far from giving you any expectation of what lies further within the pavilion. From the entry into the long gallery. Decorated in late 18th century chinoiserie style, gallery sweeps off to the left and right, again with a low ceiling and with a clutter of furniture. At each end of the gallery is the sweep of a staircase to the upper level… the stairs are pierced to allow light to shine through giving them a light, translucent, floating feel at the end of the dark hall. Turning right along the gallery and under the staircase at the end empties you with a gasp into the dining room. The room is a double height space and is design to impress. The central chandelier cascading from the ceiling and is suspended from the claws of a dragon, flying amongst the fronds of a palm tree that sweeps out across the ceiling.

The central light matched with four smaller versions in the corners of the room. The dining table is smaller than you expect. It’s only for 30 people with the Prince Regents extra wide chair centred along the side of the table. He clearly liked to be in the middle of the action.

The Royal Pavilion was the sea-side retreat for George IV while he was Prince Regent, during his father’s madness, and later while King himself.

After dinner guests would be moved from the dining room the next door drawing room and as the evening progressed they would move through a series of rooms to the Music Room at the opposite end of the Pavilion from the Dining Room. Again its hard to suppress a gasp when you enter the room. Dragons are joined by snakes on the walls and suspending the chandeliers. This time the lights look like upturned umbrellas and take the form of giant Lotus flowers. The ceiling above is a mosaic of gilt shells on the underside of the dome which glitter and shimmer in light.

I had no idea the Pavilion was as ornate and opulent as it is. From the outside, despite the fussiness of its facades, the building looks reasonably unassuming. It’s nice to be surprised.

Brighton is a fun place… the pier is a wonderfully tacky mix of new and old amusements, fish and chip and ice-cream, and there are restaurants, bars and pubs aplenty. The beach, with it’s pebbles, might not be the Gold Coast but its still a nice place to sit in the sun and look at the sea and the pier. There are even deck chairs for those who don’t want to get too close to the pebbles. I didn’t go near the water. I didn’t even take swimmers with me. But the 6 people who braved what I am sure was icy Atlantic water seemed to be enjoying themselves.

still in London

It's been rather a while now since I wrote about life in London...
It's my current place of residence but, to be honest, it doesn't feel like home... I still think of Brisbane as home, which is probably a good thing. My life here was only ever intended to be temporary...
That said I have decided to stay on for 2009. The company I work for seems to like me and wants me to stay and, despite what feels like constant travel, I have seen only a small part of what I came here to see.
I am pretty much used to day to day life here now... the crowds, the grey skies, every so often, a sunny afternoon sipping Pimms on the Southbank watching the sun set over the West End.
Summer makes for a very pleasant London actually. Daylight saving adds a lot of time to the day and the warm weather makes walking to and from work on fine days a pleasure. I guess it's why people stay here - summer in London makes you forget all about February in London, when the temperatures get below freezing and the sun sets at 4:30pm. I am glad I had the winter first though. It has allowed me to appreciate the warmth and sunshine all the more.
I have been here 7 months now. On my way to work every day I pass the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey, and walk across Trafalgar Square. My office is in the heart of Covent Garden 100 yards from Covent Garden Market. On my way home I walk across the Thames and even now still admire the view down toward the City and St Paul's Cathedral ...and most importantly it still all makes me smile! I guess when I stop smiling I will know it's time to go home.

Before Paris

Before Paris there was 6 days in London…

The weather wasn’t the greatest but we managed to see just about everything we planned to.

The week started with the arrival of the parents on Friday afternoon. Despite landing late, they cruised through Heathrow (apparently new Terminal 5 has taken some of the pressure of the rest of the airport) and were at Paddington via the Heathrow Express by 4pm.

A slow trip by the Circle Line and were in the City and heaving the parent’s luggage to the hotel. A quick change of clothes, and a freshen up saw us in a cab on the way to Chelsea. As luck would have it the weekend the parents arrived was the weekend of the Chelsea Flower Show. Luck was really on our side as the cloud that had been hovering above London all week cleared away for a sunny evening.

The Chelsea Flower Show is quite a spectacle. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect but in the end was impressed by the show gardens, including an Australian garden designed by none other than our own Jamie Durie complete with requisite water feature. It was actually the largest of the show gardens and rather well done, particularly when viewed from across the 'billabong' water feature while enjoying a glass of Pimms.

Under the huge marquee was the flowers bit. Stands of cut flowers and arranged flowing plant filled the marquee with colour and perfume. Pretty much everything was there from orchids, to roses to carnivorous plants.

As the parents started to show signs of tiredness (they had been flying all day and then hurled around London by me all evening) we headed back to Sloane Square station and the hotel.

And so began 6 days seeing the sights of London. We did most of the major tourist spots; the Tower, Westminster Abbey, St Paul’s and took a ferry down the river from Embankment to Greenwich. The week just seemed to fly by. In between the London sight-seeing we managed to get to Hampton Court for a morning and spend a day in Bath. All in al the weather was tolerable with the exception of Monday. The day dawned windy and cool with heavy rain. It was the worst day weather-wise since I have been in London. We managed to find shelter from the wind and wet Westminster Abbey but postponed our plans to go to Greenwich in the afternoon. On a spur of the moment decision (after buying theatre tickets to the new show Marguerite) we split - Mum and Ed and Sandra headed for Harrods and Dad and I went to the British Museum, meeting back up in time to head to the Theatre Royal Haymarket for the show. None of us had a clue what it would be like. I hadn’t read any reviews and the foursome from Australia hadn’t even heard of it. I think everyone enjoyed it in the end... the show is a rather heavy story of love in Paris during the second world war, written by the creators of Les Miserables. The music is quite engaging and the leading man shows his talent by singing and playing piano on stage but some of the scenes between the musical number drag a little. That said… I can assure you it will not still be playing after 22 years continuous run like Les Mis! It might make 6 months… might…

6 Days in London was not enough and the weather made the time we had even shorter… and since I have decided to stay another year here… a good excuse for the parents to come back!

Paris

So, two and half days in Paris…

Clearly not enough… but it is a start.

I arrived on Thursday afternoon with parents and friends in tow, and on advice from family friend Helen (which turned out to be excellent, thanks!), headed straight out to Versailles. The Chateau is enormous and the rooms your get to see are spectacular (if I need of a good dusting!). We did not have the time or the weather to spend wandering the gardens which would have been very nice on a sunny day.

The dawning of day two in Paris saw the parents and I part company for the morning. They had a guided tour of the city organised as part of their grand tour of Europe and not particularly wanting to be the youngest on a bus by about 30 years I decided to go it alone and walk.

I started from the hotel, located handily close to the Eiffel Tower and walked toward Notre Dame. An hour later, having wandered along the banks of the Seine past the Tuileries Gardens and enormity of the Louvre I arrived. The pale cream, freshly washed exterior of Notre Dame belies the cool dark of the interior. Even filled with the chatter of tourists the vast space somehow remains peaceful and reflective. It is a place best observed while sitting quietly. I managed to find a seat where I could see both the naïve and the transepts and not be stood on by the other sightseers. The great rose windows, the height of the vaults and the detail of the stone work need time to be taken in due to the dimness of the light.

It seems my walking tour and my parents guided tour collided at Notre Dame as we ran into each other in the plaza outside… some quick hellos and I was on my way again back toward the hotel and this time to the Musee D’Orsey. If ever I underestimated the time needed to see something it is this place. I had an hour. I needed a day – at least! Still, it was €8 very well spent even for just an hour. This art museum is limited in what it displays – only works produces between 1848 and 1914 – but they are works produced by Monet, Degas and Van Gogh to name but some of the most famous …and not just one or two… but rooms full of works by each artist …and so, my list of places to revisit grows!

Following the rushed tour of the Musee D’Orsay it was a swift hike back to the hotel to meet up with the parents. After a quick lunch we decided to visit Napoleon’s tomb at the Eglise du Dome and the War Museum attached. Napoleon, it seems, is dusted more regularly than Versailles!

…and so to the Eiffel Tower. We joined the queue at 5pm and by 6 we were standing upon the second level looking out at the city. The afternoon was sunny and clear and the view was excellent. Not much else I can say really!

The third day in Paris dawned cool and slightly overcast and it stayed that way all day. We had set aside this day to do a walking tour recommended by Helen. We took the Metro to St Michel. After a slight sidetrack for the women to buy scarves and my father and I to buy the required small model of the Eiffel Tour at one of the numerous souvenir shops next to Notre Dame we started the walk. We strolled through the Place de Vosges with the house of Victor Hugo and surrounded by art galleries; Wandered down the Rue des Francs Bourgeois with its line of classy shops and the Gardens of the Musee Carnavalet and eventually to the Place St Gervais for Lunch a little cafe. Places I am sure we would not have found without the great instructions from Helen..

I have to admit that we did truncate the walking tour and after lunch headed to Palais Garnier (the Paris Opera). We were all keen to see it and decided to squeeze it in before I had to leave to get my train for London.

If Napoleon had been dusted the Opera is polished! It is, without a doubt, the most opulent place I have ever been. No palace I have been in is a magnificent as the grand staircase and foyers of the Palais Garnier. The auditorium is just as magnificent. The balconies contain only private boxes. The only open seats are in the stalls – a clear mark that to sit on the lowest level is, well, the lowest level!

It is also nice to know that the building is referred to as Palais Garnier, and Garnier was the architect. A fitting tribute to the amazing space he created.

So from the Palais Garnier to Gare de Nord, and to a place that needs more than a dust! Gare de Nord as the Eurostar terminal in Paris and I found it grimy and dirty, with cracked and broken floors. It made it a tad easier to climb about the comfort of the Eurostar and head back to London.

You know you are in London when...

…there is a brass band playing in the park on Sunday!

Although, to be honest, the other major activity in the park was most un-English. It was a rather spirited game of Australian Rules Football being played between the Wandsworth Demons and the Putney Magpies.

I arrived just after the bounce and spent a great couple of hours watching the game. The play wasn’t exactly professional standard, but there was some definite talent amongst the players and the game flowed freely. The Magpies eventually took the day, to the disappointment of the home team Demons, although most of the crowd didn't seem to notice.

The carnival atmosphere of the day was pretty well summed up by one of the goal umpires who much preferred to signal the scoring of a Behind as it meant he didn’t have to put down his beer…

Oh, and as for the brass band… I managed to find that at half time while looking for a beer myself… in the end I settled for an ice-cream and 5 minutes listening to a medley of hits from Grease before returning to the game.

Deutschland

Well, the weather was perfect, the trains were late and beer was rather good. Two out of three ain’t bad!

…and I am told that being on a train that runs late in Germany is a rare thing… and I was on two of them!

Friday night last week saw me flying out of British Airway’s new Terminal 5 at Heathrow. The baggage problems and massive delays are a thing of the past. Now that it is working properly the terminal is a breeze. No queues, open space and helpful people (is it really in Britain???). Even my return trip via Terminal 5B – the satellite terminal across the tarmac - was easy, even using the ‘Transport’ – a driverless train - back to the main terminal. It’s all very ‘Blade Runner’, right down to the polite and slightly metallic, female voice used for announcements.

Germany on the other hand was not nearly as ‘Blade Runner’ as I expected. Hamburg is a very pretty and vibrant city. It is growing at an enormously fast rate. The new harbour city area is a forest of cranes with residential and office buildings rising from the old docks. Across the river the port of Hamburg has a matching forest of cranes disappearing into the distance, lifting containers off huge ships.

My host for the weekend, Sabine, showed me around the city. We walked for most of the morning along the riverfront, took a ferry up the river and back and then spent the afternoon walking around the old city. There is plenty in Hamburg to fill in a weeks worth of exploring and I think we managed to see most of it in a day!

The following day was an early start with an 8:30 am train to Berlin. An hour and a half later (and 2 minutes late) we arrived and I was again walking. Past the new Chancellery, the Reichstag, the Brandenburg gate, the new Jewish Memorial, one of the remnants of the wall at Potsdam Place, the Museum Island.

The highlight of my day though, was the Reichstag. We joined the queue at 7pm and an hour later we were climbing the ramp of the dome to enjoy sunset over Berlin. The dome, designed by British Architect Sir Norman Foster, provides a panorama of the city as you stroll up one ramp to the very top of the dome, open to the sky, and then down the other. The dome sits high above the Plenary Chamber of the German Parliament visible through the glass floor below.

So, the day in Berlin was a big one… especially with a train back to Hamburg at 11pm… and even at that time we are rushed making the train.

My final day in Germany was a tad less hectic. Sabine took me to a small town about 30 minutes from Hamburg. Luneburg is a medieval salt mining town and has remained relatively unchanged since its economic peak in the 16th and 17th centuries. The main square is lined with gabled merchants houses with fancy brickwork that don’t look like they have changed, ever.

But the town is a living town and a prosperous one. The ancient streets are lined with fancy shops and restaurants and cafes. The locals seem to be wealthy professionals from Hamburg who have moved out of the city to a picturesque town and have plenty to spend (especially on the restoration and upkeep of their ancient homes).

Luneburg was followed by a commute to the airport and a flight back to my real life here in London. Thankfully the trip home was quick and at least Terminal 5 works now!

2 days up North

The breeze was a bit of a shock… the days in London have gradually been warming up over the last month (despite the odd slip back into iciness noted in my last posting), but Edinburgh is a different story. The temperatures looked ok on paper, but the reality was a stiff breeze blowing constantly up between the hills from the Forth.

Bracing I think you would call it and just cold enough to seep through jackets and shoes if you stopped walking for any period of time.

Thankfully I barely stopped walking for the 2 days I was there. The first day we (I say we as I was travelling with my work mate Claudia) started our tour of the city with a 3 hour guided walk. The guide, strangely enough, was from Oklahoma, but he was very entertaining and knowledgeable about the town and its history despite having only lived there for a month! He did mention that he was a history student so I suppose that helps.

In 3 hours he walked us through streets, lanes, closes, back alleys, cemeteries and parts of the Royal Mile. There was a stop for lunch half way through and Claudia and I chose a pub first owned by a woman who was hanged for illegal pregnancy – she wasn’t married to the father - only to regain consciousness on the way the cemetery. She apparently lived a long and healthy life afterwards owning a pub overlooking the place she was hanged.

Walk completed and promises made to our guide to tackle the ghost tour he was guiding later that evening, we wandered up the hill to the Castle. Clearly a highlight of any trip to Edinburgh it is a wonderful place to explore, even if the exhibit showing the crown jewels of Scotland looks like it was made for 10 year olds. We were treated to a wedding being celebrated in the tiny St Margaret's Chapel on the very top of the hill - so tiny that most of the guests had to wait outside. The wedding party was accompanied by a most excellent piper. Even I, a person who generally thinks bag pipes sound like a bunch of strangled cats, enjoyed the performance.

So, after an examination of Mons Meg (a rather large gun), a look at the Scottish Crown Jewels, the Stone of Destiny, and the confusion of seeing the name HMAS Sydney carved into the wall of the Scottish War Memorial (if anyone knows why, please let me know... were there Scots on board?) we headed back down the hill for a pint or two of some rather pleasant local ale, ahead of our ghost tour!

Now, for me, the appeal of a ghost tour is somewhat dampened when it is conducted completely in daylight. You don’t here too many people saying they saw ghost, ghouls or unnatural things with the sun still an hour and a half from setting - as it was when we started our walk at 7pm - so my expectations of being scared witless where low – and they were met. But, despite the lack of scariness, we did have the same excellent guide from our morning’s walk, and we were taken into the New City (built in the 1700s but still a damn site newer than that old City!) and up to the Acropolis. The views of the Old City, Arthur’s Seat and Leith are excellent and we were lucky enough to have a clear, sunny – but still windy – afternoon.

…and so, after our tour, the sun set and while we enjoyed another couple of pints maybe the real ghosts started to come out. I didn’t see any… even after a couple of drinks.

Day 2 in Edinburgh dawned as day 1 had, overcast with high cloud and the same breeze blowing. We climbed on a bus and started our journey to Leith and Ocean Terminal - the current, and probably final, resting place of HMY Britannia. She is a remarkable pretty thing to look at, even jammed up against a new, and not particularly well designed, shopping centre.

The tour started well (with the UK standard audio-guide provided with the entry price) with a tour of the Bridge and upper deck, but by the time we had reached the Royal staterooms it was clear the tour was tailored to the ‘royalist’ and not necessarily to people like Claudia and I. To be honest neither she nor I was particularly interested in the Queen’s bed linen. I would much rather have learned about how and where she was built (the ship, not the Queen) and even some of the politics around why she was built. But no, alas, pillow cases, napkins and carpets were the order of that day. Despite this, the visit was great. To walk the decks of the ship is an experience in itself; to see how those above and below decks lived, worked and partied. The tour ends with the engine room. From what we could see through the windows it is cleaner than most hospitals, but it would have been nice to get a bit closer. It would have been even nicer to hear it running… a ship tied forever to a quay does seem to me to be something a little sad.

a cool Sunday

This morning it snowed...

...this afternoon it was sunny.

But, while it lasted, the snow was rather pretty. It made for a very cold day though!

between travel...

I am between travel right now. I have plans though. I will be in Edinburgh for the weekend in 2 weeks (probably dealing with brass monkeys cold!) and then I have a long weekend in Hamburg, the first weekend in May …and of course hot on the heals of that trip the parents will be here.

But right now… I am between travel. The weather has been average since Easter - in fact it was average during Easter. It was distinctly more average here in London with storms hail and snow that it was in Barcelona… so I was definitely better off where I was!

Being between travel is interesting as you get into the general life of the city… work, eat, sleep, work, drink, eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep… It makes me realise what life would be like here if I wasn’t travelling every few weeks. It would be just like home with crappy weather, better public transport (when it runs) and too many people.

It’s times like this that I really miss Brisbane, and, strangely enough, it’s not the things I used to do that I miss. It’s all the things I didn’t do, or do very often anyway. How easy it is to take weekend and go to the Gold Coast, the Sunshine Coast, Straddie, the mountains, Byron Bay, Sydney, Melbourne… and how often did I take that weekend? Once, maybe twice, a year if I was lucky. Now I sit here and get fidgety if I haven’t been out of London for 2 weeks! I look for things to do, day trips, museums… last weekend I walked for 3 hours on Sunday afternoon. It was sunny and warm(ish) and I just walked. Never (ever!) did that in Brisbane (of course 3 hours walking in Brisbane would see you dead of heat exhaustion on some vertical hill in Paddington!).

So, the weekend approaches and I have no plans, and it annoys me! The weather is not looking great so that limits the options. But, London is a big place… and I haven’t seen it all yet. There are definitely things to do in London to fill the gaps when I am between travel.

Barcelona stuff (2)

Last weekend, as you may have noted from my last post, I was in Barcelona. This was my first trip into continental Europe, and I don’t think I could have chosen a better place to start. The weather wasn't perfect - it was cool and often overcast - but it didn't really matter...

Every since I was at university I have wanted to see Barcelona. The primary reason for this is Antoni Gaudi. His work fascinated me from the start… it gives the impression of being completely uncontrolled and amorphous and yet, it is not wild or childish. To control and balance architecture that is so organic is amazing and quite awe inspiring.

His masterwork is Temple de la Sagrada Familia. The temple looms up out of Eixample (pronounced ‘esharmplah’ and meaning ‘extension’) to the West of the Old City. Photos do not do it justice; they do not let you look into the remarkable detail of the facades, particularly the Nativity Façade to the East front. Covered in carvings or people, animals and plants you could spend hours exploring the figures. It is a lush, vibrant and overwhelming combination of art and architecture. Its contrast is the West front, the Passion Façade. It is stark and sharp edged, but no less beautiful.

…and then of course you walk inside. The forest of stone columns are quite literally tree trunks, with the branches reaching up to the ceiling where they spread into vaults glittering with gold. The naïve is still unfinished and the stark ends of the vaults contrast with the bright sun and blue of the sky. 2026 is the current estimate for completion and will be the 100th anniversary of the Architects death. A good excuse to go back I think.

Of course Barcelona is dotted with Gaudi’s work, particularly the district of Eixample. It was the major area of the City to expand during his lifetime. It was developed in the middle of the 19th century to cope with the growing city. The old city walls were demolished and a regular grid of street laid out to the west on the field between Barcelona and the village of Gracia. There are broad avenues lined with trees which contrast with the maze of narrow alleyways in the old city and the hillside of Gracia.

I did a lot of walking in Barcelona. Walking and the Metro seem to be the best ways to get around. Or course you see more walking as the metro in underground… so, mostly I walked; through the Old City, on La Rambla, along the beach.
Barcelona seems a very easy place to live. It has good shopping, eating and drinking, a beach, some great museums and friendly people. Shame I don’t speak Spanish (yet)...

Barcelona stuff

There are things you expect to find in Barcelona...

• art
• architecture
• museums

I wasn't expecting a couple of gum trees though...

Happy Easter!

I thought I would post this a few days early as I am off to Barcelona for the weekend tomorrow night...
So, a very happy Easter to you all!

AAF

Today I bought a cow...
...well, not a real cow... just someone's impression of a cow.
Strangely enough the purchase of the cow was a direct result of a short trip in a train on the London Underground.
On Monday evening, heading home from a late meeting, my attention was attracted by an advertisement. It was advertising an affordable art fair in Battersea Park.
So, I thought I would wander along and take a look considering Battersea is not too far from home... and tonight I did just that.
My thought, walking through the park this evening, was that I might find a small affordable impression of London, something to take home to Australia eventually that would remind me of life here...
The art fair was in a huge temporary structure and I could not even guess how many artists and paintings where exhibited. The concept is great and was well attended even on a cool, drizzly mid-week evening.
So, I went looking for a painting of London... unfortunately painting of London were very scarce, and those that were there were not quite as affordable as I might have liked.
But my gaze fell upon a painting i liked... strangely enough... of a cow... I have never previously considered buying art of farm animals... but tonight I did...
Thus, I am now the owner of 'Bessie'!

comments

For those of you who have been trying to leave comments, you should now be able to without too much hassle (I hope).
...although I do reserve the right to moderate what is written, as this is a public blog.

The answer to the question at the end of the previous post...

...is Canterbury.

It is a week and a bit ago now... (and yes, I have been a tad slack in updating the blog, sorry!) but the day dawned sunny so I took a train east and spent a day wandering about Canterbury. The cathedral is clearly the highlight of the town. I spent a couple of hours slowly wandering about the buildings and ground with my audio-tour handset against my head looking like a 1980's mobile phone.

The audio-tour is to be found at most attractions in the UK and can be had in a variety of languages (generally I chose English, for those of you who may be wondering). Personally I prefer a proper tour conducted by a human being. The audio-tour has more detail, but people always have more character and their wonderful little anecdotes the are lacking from the recorded version.

Unfortunately I was a few minutes too late for the guided tour of Canterbury Cathedral so the audio-tour it had to be. It was rather verbose and had a rather heavy backing of organ music, but generally it got the point of what I was looking at across... eventually.

The highlight of the visit was a large, temporary set of tiered seats in the middle of the naive. These, very conveniently, contained about 100 of the Cathedral's choristers who spent the entire time I was in the building rehearsing. The sound of those voices echoing through the stone vaults and aisles made for a most uplifting experience (and thankfully overpowered the organ music background of my audio-tour).

Having now visited quite a number of cathedrals, abbeys and minsters it will be interesting, next time I am in Brisbane, to visit the nearly complete St John's. Clippings from the Brisbane press sent to me recently (my mother likes to keep me in touch with the local news) have shown its copper spires being erected, a mere 104 years after the building was started. I wonder what it will look like in 800 years?

ad hoc sunny days

One of my greatest joys in this city is the ability to walk out the door of my flat (and not because my flat is old and slightly dingy…) and enter a place where there is always something new to see, hear, learn…

This is going to be one of my ‘rambling’ blog entries… so I apologies in advance!

It is so easy to just get out of bed and do something. A few weeks ago I went on my first ‘London Walk’ (http://www.walks.com/ if you are interested); actually it was Australian Day to be precise. I chose one that took me to the back streets of Waterloo. My own backyard as it were… being a South of the Thames dweller. The walk was lead by a retired Elephant Handler and she was a wealth of knowledge about the surprisingly intact community of early 19th century houses in the shadow of Waterloo Station. The morning was cold but beautifully sunny and the walk opened up a whole new understanding of the area of London I live in.

Last weekend, similarly, I decided, on a whim, to go to Hampton Court. The Met Office forecast on Thursday showed a fine and sunny weekend so I took advantage. I was at Waterloo Station bright and early (well… 9:30am… but that is reasonably early for a Saturday and the Palace doesn’t open until 10am anyway) only to be told that due to engineering works the train I wanted to take wasn’t running and that I would need to take another train to Surbiton (a nice place for changing trains… and that’s about it) and transfer to a bus. An hour and a half and one missed bus later I found myself on the banks of the Thames opposite Hampton Court… the trip should only take 35 minutes in normal conditions. But once again the day was lovely and sunny and, as usual, cold. The Palace looked huge across the river, and the enormous picture of Henry VIII fixed to the side of some scaffold, and towering over a portion of the palace under restoration, did nothing to reduce the impact.

I spent a couple of hours wandering about the halls and rooms of the Palace, the same halls and rooms inhabited by Henry VIII, Cardinal Wolsey, William & Mary, and one of the Georges (which one it was eludes me right now). The tours are very good, and conducted by guides dressed in period costume and assuming a period character. It sounds a bit tacky but it works rather well.

So, the question that remains is; what to do this weekend? The Met Office is predicting another dry weekend… I’ll let you know.

Bath Part 2 (half day tour)

The sun was low on the horizon, the hills of Salisbury Plain were green and rolling, the air was crisp and crystal clear, the British Army was firing its artillery nearby, the sheep were grazing placidly beyond a little rope barrier, the traffic was wizzing by 50 yards away and I stood and gazed at the circles of stone that make up Stonehenge and I was entranced.

How do I describe Stonehenge... almost everyone is familiar with its form so I guess I really won't. The stones are dwarfed by their location, set high on a plain of open, grassed, rolling hills and yet they stand grand and impossibly large when you consider the people who put them there, their lack of tool and machine and distance they transported them.

The audio tour, that comes with your entry fee, can give no answers as to how they were moved to their location between 1500 and 3000 years ago and really, even why it was built... there are many hypothosies... but no definite answers. I guess it just adds to the allure!

You can no longer walk amongst the stones themselves. You walk around the monument behind a little, low rope fence (just like the sheep). As nice as it would be to get amongst the stones, the benefit of being held back means photos are devoid of other tourists! ...which is rare at any UK monument or even some vague place on interest.

...and I did get some nice photos!

You know you are in London when...

...you walk to the bus after work (and after a couple of pints) and the bell ringers are practicing in St Martin in the Fields, the melodies ecoing across Trafalgar Square...

Bath Part 1

Well, here I am, recently returned from a weekend of travel, and writing about it... while slightly under the influence!

Congratulations, this it the first blog of mine you are reading written after a few pints (actually far to many for a Tuesday night!). Be that as it may, I thought it time to write about last weekend.

First let me set the scene...

It is hard to describe the perfection of the weather last weekend. Saturday was almost warm, the sun was shining with an Australian brightness and the air was crystal clear, and I was lucky enough to be visiting South East England. Bath, Stonehenge, Cheddar Gorge and Wells to be precise.

My weekend started at a rediculously early hour for London... 8.37am when my train left Paddington (well, actually it was 40 min earlier when I left my flat to get the tube to Paddington but that doesn't count)

2 hours and some railway signal delays later I was in Bath and in the delightful company of Jean. Jean and her husbane Roger are friend of my parents after meeting in Northern Australia, and they very kindy offered me bed and breakfast and some wonderful sight seeing and company while I was in Bath.

Perhaps the easiest way to describe the weekend is quickly outline what I got up to. (In part 2 I will try and go into more detail)

Well, on arrival in Bath, Jean met me at the station and took me straight to the Pump Room for a coffee and a Bath Bun following morning tea seranaded by the musical trio in the Pump Room we spent an hour and a half walking about the city. Jean proved an admirable guide showing me some of the more famous areas of the city and eventually depositing me at the collection point for my afternoon tour to to Stonehenge and the ancient town of Laycock (I'll write more about the tour in the part 2 bit!)

Let me just say at this stage that I could not have asked for a better afternoon to visit one of Englands most ancient sites.

Jean and Roger met me on my return the Bath after the tour and the following morning offered to show me Cheddar Gorge and the nearby town of Wells.

Between them, they are a wealth of information about the area and proved wonderful tour guides.

The weekend ended with my train journey back to London (again interupted by National Rail problems) and a surprisingly relaxing nights sleep before the work week commenced.

Well, thats about it for my summary blog about the weekend... next time I will try and tell you a bit more about the things i saw... right now... I need to sleep off the pints!

g'night!

you know you are in London when...

...the bloke trying to sell you a copy of The Big Issue says,
"ello guvna!" as you walk past.

fancy a tasty meat pie?

"There's a hole in the world
Like a great black pit
and the vermin of the world inhabit it
And its morals aren't worth
what a pig could spit
And it goes by the name of London."

the verse is from the opening of Sondheim's Sweeney Todd.
maybe it was true in the 18th century...
...maybe its still true now.

Last night I thought it would be a good idea to see the new film version of Sweeney Todd.
It has had some good review... and is rather well put together, even if the the blood does flow a little too freely (Mum you will not enjoy it!). Decided to have Chinese for dinner after... although for some reason I had an appetite for a pie...

The last couple of weeks have been a bit of a theatre-fest. A friend visiting London is always a good excuse to get out and do some of the things I have been putting off and while Nadia was in town we took the opportunity to see Avenue Q and The History Boys.

It good to finally be taking advantage of my proximity to the West End and the cheap tickets on sale at Leicester Square... roll on the next show!

one night in York

Technology is a wonderful thing… here I am, on a train on the way back to London after a night York, typing up my latest blog entry… and yet I am frustrated that can’t get the laptop to connect properly to the wireless network on the train… therefore I can type the blog… but not post it until I get home… not that it really matters… but while technology is marvellous… the more marvellous it gets the more opportunity it has to frustrate!

But, ranting about technological inadequacies is not the point of this post… its all about the City of York

I travelled up on Friday for a one day seminar for work… the company very generously put the attendees up at a very pleasant hotel and fed us… and boozed us… so I figured I would take the opportunity today (being Saturday) to look about the city…

York is a charming place… narrow, twisting, cobbled and car free streets lined with ancient shops and houses. York is home to a very impressive cathedral, well a Minster to be precise. With a few colleges from work, who had the same idea as me, we climbed the 275 steps the top of the tower to take in the panorama it offered of the city. It’s a view over a city largely untouched by the second world war, which means it still has much of its old city intact including most of the city walls.

Only having a few hours I was limited in what I had time to see, and after the Minster, a 45 minute tour of the city on one of those open top tour bus things (they are kind of cheesy but they do show you a city quite quickly) and a bite of lunch headed for the Nation Rail Museum. It’s a bit of a boys museum… full of giant bits of shiny metal on wheels… but I think anyone who has any interest in history would find it a great place to lose a few hours.. I only had 2 and barely had time to take even a cursory glance at the exhibits… although I did linger over a few of the more famous bits, the great blue streamlined Mallard (which still holds the world record as the fasted steam train, set in 1938), the various carriages from royal trains, and the Flying Scotsman which is currently in pieces all over a workshop floor as it undergoes a full rebuild.

2 hours here is no where near enough and of course 1 day in York is not nearly enough either. I didn’t even get to Shambles Street. – not that it looked all that messy as I whizzed by on the tour bus. So I guess it gets added to the ever-growing list of places to go back to.

Stand up if you hate Tottenham!

European football, soccer, the round ball game, whatever you want to call it...

it's actually quite fun to watch live.

I have tried, with limited success, in the past to watch European football on TV. Australia's (relative) success in the last world cup spurred some interest and I watched a game or 2 but found the game lived up to its cliche of a lot of effort for no result...

However, I have now seen a game in England, live, at the ground.... and my attitude has somewhat changed.

A few weeks ago now I was lucky enough to score a ticket to a Chelsea v's Valencia game with the boss. It was a very pleasant evening entertaining a client with dinner and drinks followed by the game.

The game was very entertaining, Chelsea were at home and top of their table (the competition they were playing in was explained to me but I failed to grasp the details... it appears teams here play in several competitions at once...) and Valencia were pretty much out of the competition but put up somewhat of a fight... the atmosphere was great... the stadium was full... some 40,000 people turned up... and they were in fine voice.

I am still not sure how 10,000 blokes spontaneously burst into raucous song, but they do ...and much of it was directed at Tottenham, the traditional rivals of Chelsea (clearly they didn't give a damn about Valencia). The stadium was filled with the dulcet strains of stand up if you hate Tottenham, Tottenham, stand up if you hate Tottenham! ...and yes, they stood up.

The singing and raucousness was not due to alcohol! Well, alcohol bought at the stadium anyway... football stadiums in the UK are dry! God Forbid! not even light beer is served... but I suppose it helps stop rioting... the English are a tad fanatical when it comes to their football.

...and then of course there was the game itself... Valencia put up a bit of fight, but were held scoreless by the clearly dominant Chelsea. In fact Valencia never even looked like scoring... Chelsea on the other hand had at least 6 attempts at the goal, but despite their best efforts were also denied a goal... there was some bad luck involved with the ball striking the woodwork 3 times... but all in all they failed to capitalise on their advantage...

so... my first game of football was a lot of effort for no result... nil all!

But... if you are going to see all that effort, see it live!

Now all I have to do is choose a team to support... Chelsea maybe??? well, I did get a large, free team flag at the game (the Brisbane Lions would have charges $29.95 for it!) But I think I will reserve judgement... a football team is for life... so one much choose with care!