• Hello Tokyo

    27–29 Jul 2024, Jepang ⋅ ☁️ 35 °C

    Our stopover on this trip was Tokyo, where we had a relaxing day amongst the trees and gardens of the city.

    From Shinjuku Station - the world’s busiest, with around four million people passing through a day - it was an easy walk to the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, or at least it would have been, had it not been over thirty degrees and steamy.

    We enjoyed the garden, though, especially the beautifully groomed Japanese section, and after a light lunch we sweated our way over to the Meiji Shrine.

    Located in 170 acres of parkland with about 120,000 trees, it was awash with people there either to worship or to have a day out.

    The shrine dates back to 1921, and commemorates the rule of Emperor Meiji who died in 1912. The allies bombed it to bits in the war and it was rebuilt in 1956.

    We took a few pics of the shrine and the barrels of French wine and saki on display - saki barrels are a common shrine decoration but the wine casks symbolise Emperor Meiji’s innovative embracing of foreign concepts and influences - before walking down to the station to get the train back to our hotel. Well, actually, we caught the train back to the airport, because we got on the wrong one. Otherwise, though, we had a great - if stifling - day in Tokyo.

    Our local area was quite picturesque, too.
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  • Kota Kinabalu (2) and recap

    16 April 2024, Malaysia ⋅ ⛅ 31 °C

    After the early starts and sticky rainforest and bouncy, hard boat seats it was great to arrive back in KK, still sticky, of course, but looking forward to a few days of idleness.

    We stayed on the waterfront, with the islands of the Turku Abdul Raman Marine Park just offshore, and the most incredible sunsets, although it took a few days before we got out of the bar in time to see one.

    With Grab (the Malaysian Uber) cheap and efficient, it was a simple matter to venture downtown for shopping or dinner.

    After we had been here for three days, we got news of the eruption of Mt Ruang, a volcano on an island to the east of Sabah. Winds sent the ash our way, causing flights from KK to Kuala Lumpur to be cancelled. The hotel filled up as people had to extend their stays; some people were advised that the next available flight for re-booking was not for a week.

    As it turned out, we weren’t affected, and all too soon we were heading for home, with some great memories in tow.

    With an amazing and unique set of wild animals, and beautiful places and settings from which to see them, culture and history ranging from head hunters through to the Second World War, and mostly very friendly and helpful people, Sabah proved to be a great destination. Plus it’s reasonably cheap!

    Of course, the trip wouldn’t have been anywhere as good without Steve and Kim, travel companions par excellence! Great experiences are always better when shared with good friends and loved ones!
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  • Tabin

    14 April 2024, Malaysia ⋅ ⛅ 32 °C

    It took a long morning’s bouncy travel to reach Tabin Rainforest Lodge, nestled on the edge of the Tabin Wildlife Reserve and close to the coast.

    Where our Sukau lodge was quite large and full, with numerous helpful and friendly staff and excellent service, our Tabin digs had only six rooms, a few staff and NO WHITE WINE.

    We decided to stay anyway, and late on our first afternoon cruised down the river, past kilometres of nipah palms, to the coast.

    The atmosphere was fabulous as we made our way slowly back in the encroaching darkness, then, near to home, we came to the fireflies. What a sight! Hundreds of tiny, flickering pinpoints of light in the trees; they were quite captivating, especially from our peacefully floating viewpoint on the boat.

    Then, our eyes becoming more and more attuned to the darkness, we looked to the sky, and had another wonderful moment under the canopy of stars that we city people don’t often get to see.

    The following morning we visited two bird hides.

    Firstly, the Bornean brown cuckoo, a very obliging bird who turned up with his mate and alternately pecked and looked around until we had taken our fill of photos.

    The second hide was that for the Sabah partridge. Here is an excerpt from the diary:

    7:30 - arrive at bird hide
    7:35 - leaf drops from tree
    7:40 - start playing female Sabah partridge sounds over loudspeaker
    7:41 - male Sabah partridge shows up, starts calling out expectantly
    7:50 - tourists go off to have hot breakfast, Sabah partridge still calling out expectantly
    7:55 - Sabah partridge shakes head, looks around and goes home alone and disappointed.

    We also took another spin on the river and down to the sea and saw some Irrawaddy Dolphins, then drove up a narrow twisting tributary - think “The African Queen” - to see the flying foxes roosting.

    In the late afternoon we took a hot, sweaty walk through the jungle, not seeing a lot but kind of enjoying tripping over tree roots and dodging vines as we stumbled along.

    On the morning we left Tabin, we visited one more bird hide, deep into the forest. We clambered through a muddy gully and slipped and stumbled up and down hill until we reached the hide, whereupon they played the female call over and over for forty minutes. Then we all gave up and sweated and puffed our way back to the vehicle. Just goes to show that the twitchers of the world have more patience than we do.

    And that was the end of the rainforest adventure. We are now en route back to Kota Kinabalu for some (we think) well-deserved R and R.
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  • Sukau

    11 April 2024, Malaysia ⋅ ⛅ 31 °C

    It was a two-and-a-half hour ride by speedboat up the Kinabatangan River to Sukau Rainforest Lodge, where have spent the past three nights.

    On the trip up our guide told us he would stop to show us any significant wildlife sightings, but we didn’t need to stop, mainly because he was asleep for most of it.

    We arrived around four in the afternoon, and soon boarded a small boat to look for wildlife. It was oppressively hot and sticky, but peaceful yet fun buzzing around from one side of the river to the other as the guide pursued possible wildlife.

    Africa has its “big five” - the lion, leopard, buffalo, giraffe and elephant, and Australia its “big four” - the kangaroo, emu, platypus and tall poppy. In Borneo there is the orang utan, proboscis monkey, hornbill, crocodile and pygmy elephant.

    We saw our first orang utan in the wild very quickly, shortly followed by a host of proboscis monkeys. The monkeys are apparently quite easy going and will happily help to groom members of other monkey species - this is not surprising, as anyone lumbered with a nose the size of that on the male proboscis monkey would have to be pretty easy going.

    From the right angle the males look like a chubby Mr Magoo without his glasses.

    Hornbills were also plentiful, although a little harder to see in the tree tops. Of the rhinoceros hornbill variety, however, there was only the briefest of sightings.

    Then there was the crocodile, which was also plentiful, both large - very large, in fact - and small.

    Of the pygmy elephant, though, there was no sign whatsoever. Our guide kept promising that there were elephants in the area, and each boat excursion included the enticement that they were “waiting for the word” that the elephants were down by the river. What rot.

    In all, we spent eight hours numbing our bottoms on the slightly padded seats of the boat, and came away very happy with the animal sightings and the experience. Especially in the early mornings, the air was cool, the mist was rising from the still river and there was a sense of anticipation about the day - and the big breakfast awaiting our return.

    One of our boat trips was at night. No pygmy elephants, funnily enough, but we saw lots of small crocodiles, (luckily) small snakes and some incredibly colourful kingfishers and other birds of different varieties. It was a bit surreal zooming across the blackness of the river, with the guide using the only light on the boat to scan the bank for animals, rather than watch where he was going.

    And it was peaceful. We stopped the engine (deliberately, I hope) and drifted for some time under a canopy of stars and in the enveloping silence. The waxing moon, in its last nights, shed a tiny reflection on the otherwise dark river.

    With this peace and tranquility in mind (and the multitude of animals out there waiting to poison and/or eat us), we move on to the Tabin Conservation Area, and… the leeches.
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  • Sepilok

    9 April 2024, Malaysia ⋅ ⛅ 33 °C

    Sepilok is about half an hour from Sandakan and was a great start to the jungle part of our trip.

    First up was the Orang Utan Rehabilitation Centre, where orphaned young and otherwise deserted animals are nurtured and prepared for life in the wild.

    They are the most amazing animals (mum rears her baby for up to nine years before they go out on their own) and we spent some time watching the juveniles and then the older animals feeding. They are fed only a small amount so that they will go and forage for more by themselves, and possibly become completely independent.

    Next stop was the Bornean Sun Bear Centre.

    Bornean Sun Bears have a few natural disadvantages, chiefly of which is a gall bladder that secretes bile that in some cultures is regarded as a powerful aid for libido/period pain/household cleaning.

    Then they may be captured as pets and have their claws removed, which (as the claws are bone) is excruciatingly painful and (as they rely on their claws to climb trees and dig for food) means they cannot survive in the wild.

    As sun bears eat termites, they also play an important role in keeping the trees healthy.

    In the afternoon we braved the hot sun and humidity and visited the Rainforest Discovery Centre.

    We walked high into the trees on the three hundred metre canopy walkway, constantly on the lookout for animals. For this part of the visit, though, the pickings were slim, with some distant bird sightings, two squirrels and a lizard.

    Then we waited in a large group for dusk, enjoying the slightly cooler air and the peaceful atmosphere high above the ground.

    Everyone was waiting for the red giant flying squirrels to perform their tricks. All eyes were focused on a box fastened to a tree, from where two little eyes peered out.

    Finally, he made his move, climbing out and up the tree before gliding gracefully down about thirty metres to his destination. All eyes were on him, but they had to be assisted by torches, as by this time it was quite dark. Steve was brilliant, his torch tracking the entire flight like a pro.

    Then we were taken along a series of bush tracks in search of night animals. Again, though, animals were scarce. We saw an incredibly vivid blue kingfisher, a scorpion, and a small pit viper that could easily have been stomped on; other than that it was down to lizards and stick insects for our entertainment.

    We’re now heading up the Kinabantangan River to Sukau Rainforest Lodge, for the part of our adventure.
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  • Kota Kinabalu and Sepilok

    7 April 2024, Malaysia ⋅ ☁️ 30 °C

    Our Borneo trip started in Kota Kinabalu, Sabah’s largest city and seemingly home to the most gridlocked traffic to be found anywhere.

    It was coming up to Hari Raya, the Malaysian holiday marking the end of Ramadan, and people were out buying in preparation for a two-day public holiday later in the week. We walked to the Sunday Market for a look around and were enveloped in the heat and crowds. It was even worse in the local shopping centre.

    We stayed on the waterfront overlooking the fishing fleet, a bunch of somewhat tired-looking boats that never seemed to leave port, although occasionally a couple would do a kind of dance around each other and the the other moored vessels before pulling up somewhere else in the fleet.

    Our proximity to the fishing port also meant that going outside meant not only hitting the heat and humidity after our over-chilled hotel, but also the smell - a mixture of the odours of fish both fresh and dried.

    We went out to the Mari Mari Cultural Village for some insights into the ethnic tribes of Borneo and came back having tasted rice wine and rubbery pancakes and seen fire-making, cooking, blow pipe dart firing, tribal chief meeting and a cultural dance show that was pleasurably brief. It was a good afternoon; the large numbers of visitors were shuffled through with the precision of a Swiss Watch and the female guide was energetic and personable.

    A flight with Firefly to Sandakan - $A35 each, 40 minutes flying, 1 hour 10 minutes queueing - brought us to our next destination.

    We stopped at the War Memorial Park, commemorating the death marches that started in Sandakan and ended with the deaths of 2,434 prisoners of war. Only six survived. There isn’t much there other than a nice walk, a plinth and a few bits of ruined machinery, but it was a very poignant reminder of the human capacity for cruelty.

    We reflected on the death march as we drove out to Sepilok, where tomorrow we will investigate the orang utan. In the meantime, we have enjoyed some lizard spotting and a pleasant dinner overlooking the lagoon.
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  • Oxford

    9 Oktober 2023, Inggris ⋅ ⛅ 23 °C

    This will be the last footprint for this trip; we are heading home due to the sad passing of Chris Andrews, our dear brother-in-law and friend.

    With two days to get to London to catch a plane, we had very much a flying tour of some of the sights from North Yorkshire down to Oxford, where we had to return our car and hop on a train to Heathrow.

    We left lively Whitby and followed the coast north to Staithes , another picturesque fishing village with connections to Captain James Cook, RN, white person discoverer of Australia (although the Dutch beat him to it on the west coast).

    From Staithes , we headed inland to Rievaulx Abbey, travelling over fog-covered hills and through numerous tiny villages with twisting, narrow streets.

    Rievaulx was interesting, a ruin that would put many others to shame, and looking extremely handsome under the grey skies. The monks slept 140 to a dorm, ate mainly vegetables (and didn’t talk as they did so) and attended eight church services a day, so perhaps the grey skies were looked upon as a plus.

    We also popped in to Knaresbrough, which has a wonderfully picturesque bridge carrying the railway over the River Nidd, with great views, boats on the river and families strolling about everywhere. It was more than nice enough for us to spend a couple of hours wandering down to the river and, with an ice cream, back up again.

    We stayed a night in Harrogate, then headed down to Oxford, from the outskirts of which this footprint originates.

    With time of the essence, we had one place to see in the Cotswolds, so we chose - unsurprisingly - Bourton- on-the- Water.

    On a Monday afternoon in October it was crowded, so on Saturdays in June must be impossible. It was also incredibly photogenic, a warm, sunny day for a change, and the trees beginning to change colour. Naturally, there were also huge numbers of local people with their dogs in tow. Whether on a bus or train, or in a pram or carry bag, a cafe or a museum - the canines of Britain are well looked after!
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  • Whitby

    6 Oktober 2023, Inggris ⋅ 🌬 19 °C

    We hired a car in York and made our way to the coast, emerging, via some incredibly narrow roads, at Robin Hoods Bay (or, at least, at the Pay-and-Display car park at the top of the hill).

    Today, it takes five hours to travel from Sherwood Forest to Robin Hoods Bay by public transport, and presumably it took quite a bit longer in the 14th century, when Robin Hood was actually (or, maybe not actually) alive. So it’s probably safe to assume the place doesn’t have much to do with him or his merry band of outlaws, other than a name.

    It was, though, a picturesque tangle of narrow streets leading down to a small cove with a few fishing boats, a couple of pubs and a heap of shops selling all manner of twee nick-nacks.

    Whitby, just up the coast, was different. Bigger than we expected, and a bit brasher - it has Pleasureland, Funland and Fun City all in a row on the waterfront - it was good fun.

    We walked up the hill to Whitby Abbey, part inspiration for Bram Stoker’s Dracula tale, and window-shopped for Whitby Jet. Jet is a black gemstone, apparently now largely forgotten beyond Whitby, related to coal and made popular by the original influencer, Queen Victoria. It’s not every gemstone that will burn if you set fire to it.

    Friday evening in Whitby was pretty hectic, and we enjoyed a few drinks watching the sun go down over the beautiful and historic - yet bustling - old port.

    Our last Whitby experience was a day out on the North Yorkshire Moors Railway.

    We travelled from Whitby to Grosmont, where we had a look around, then walked about six kilometres to Goathland on a track following a previous railway alignment. It was incredibly peaceful walking through some wonderful scenery for a few hours.

    With moorland topping the hills above us, black-headed sheep dotting the lush fields, a multitude of small bubbling creeks all around, and the occasional walkers with their dogs, it was all rather quintessentially English.

    Goathland was the fictional town of Aidensfield in the television series “Heartbeat”, and the magnificent Goathland Railway Station has featured in the Harry Potter movies and a host of other productions.

    We continued our train experience on to Pickering, enjoying the varied countryside all the way, then returned to Whitby.
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  • York

    3 Oktober 2023, Inggris ⋅ 🌬 16 °C

    Our first stop after the boating adventure was York, just a few hours away by train.

    York has a fair bit going for it - Viking heritage, city walls, narrow winding streets and a magnificent cathedral - York Minster - where we kicked off our exploration.

    Most likely, this will be the only church we will visit on this holiday, but it was well worth it. Completed a mere 551 years ago, it is a massive stone structure plonked in the middle of otherwise low-rise York. We spent a bit of time admiring the interior, particularly the windows, as well as wandering around the outside.

    We also enjoyed The Shambles, the nearby cluster of medieval narrow, twisting streets abounding in retail opportunities for every manner of souvenir.

    An unexpected surprise (for us, at least) was the beauty of the River Ouse and the Museum Gardens, complete with some medieval ruins, that lie close by.

    Somewhat to the south was the remains of York Castle, and Clifford’s Tower, named after Roger de Clifford, who gained immortality-of-name when he was executed for treason and hanged in chains from the tower walls.

    We largely skipped the walls, the Viking stuff and the justifiably renowned Railway Museum, as we had visited them previously. Actually, Chris did go to the the railway museum, but it had closed early due to a private function. Waited 23 years and travelled 20,000 kilometres to go there again, but no bitterness here!

    We also took a short train ride to Bradford, and visited the Bradford Industrial Museum, built in 1875 as a worsted mill, and now housing all manner of engines, looms, spinning machines and other assorted gear. The machines were interesting, but the human and social impact of the inventions was what we went for.

    It was, in fact, reassuring to know that children under nine have been prohibited from working in factories since 1819, and that the same, enlightened, legislation prevented children from 9 to 16 from being forced to work more than a 12-hour day.

    We are heading next to Whitby, on the North Yorkshire coast, and hoping that the rain takes a break.
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  • Stoke-on-Trent

    2 Oktober 2023, Inggris ⋅ ☁️ 15 °C

    Well, it was all a bit strange. The water situation, mainly because the toilets wouldn’t work without it, was a bit dire. Ironically, though, it was pouring with rain.

    We drove through the rain for two hours until we found a water point. Don and Chris filled the water tank, standing in the rain, quite cold, drinking a beer. At the same time, Sharon and Kim had hot showers (while still at the water point, so as not to deplete the supply) and warmed the boat to dry the clothes out.

    We chose a good canal - the Macclesfield - to cruise along. It was quiet, although there were quite a few boats moored along the banks (some a bit derelict, it appeared). The rural scenery - green pastures, sheep, farm buildings, even the occasional re-purposed mill - was beautiful on the sunny days (that is, once), and wonderfully atmospheric on the wet ones, even when your socks were wringing wet from the rain.

    We did have quite a lot of rain on our way back to Stoke-on-Trent, and another toilet situation (collectively, that is, not personally).

    Being extravagant with our water, and - truth be told - our alcohol consumption, it soon became odorously apparent that we urgently needed a pump out. More rain-soaked driving ensued, before we reached the nirvana of the pump-out station, where a friendly, apparently olfactorily challenged, man removed the offensive material from the boat.

    Armed with beers purchased from the boat yard, we tackled the Bosley Locks with gusto, pleased to se the rain subsiding and that there were people on the canals even more inept than we. The rain was easing, but the ground remained saturated as we made our way down from locks one to twelve.

    The following day (after another stylish celebration, this time at the Church House Hotel in Congleton) we strolled through the final lock and, after another half-hour of exhaust fumes in the Harecastle Tunnel, made our way back to the marina and returned the boat.

    Wet weather notwithstanding, the whole narrowboat experience was great. By the end of the trip we were steering the boat like pros, barely hitting anything (not too hard, at least) and giving other people tips on operating the locks and good pubs to visit.

    We have now said our fond goodbyes to Don and Kim after a great few weeks, and are en route to York to start the next stage of our trip.
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  • Macclesfield

    26 September 2023, Inggris ⋅ ⛅ 18 °C

    This is the first of two posts from our time on the narrowboat cruising up the Macclesfield Canal. Apologies - it’s a bit long.

    We left Inverness and, after three hours in the car, two in the train and a short walk, we checked in to a quite fancy guest house in Carlisle. We had a quick look at the castle and the cathedral, but to be honest Carlisle and its people seemed a little down-at-heel and one afternoon was enough for us.

    It took a good part of the following day to get to Stoke-on-Trent and the marina at Etruria, where we got our orientation and set off on the good, if narrow, ship, Mollie.

    We cruised off confidently, and didn’t bump into a single thing during the few hours of our first day’s sailing. We also, though, completely failed in the find-a-pub stakes, and had to eat on the boat for our first night.

    The following day we faced our first nautical challenge - the 2.6 kilometre Harecastle Tunnel. We went through in a convoy of about five boats, and spent just over half an hour seeing nothing but the lights on our boat and the ones immediately ahead or behind.

    It was cold and wet - the tunnel roof was frequently dripping - and steering straight enough to avoid the tunnel walls was near impossible. Hopefully, the boat company have plenty of spare paint.

    We spent that night in Congleton, a short climb up some stairs from the Queen’s Head pub, and celebrated the tunnel in style. Actually, we seem to be celebrating everything in style on this trip!

    The Bosley Locks were next on our route.

    The narrowboat guidebook described the Bosley Locks as like waiting for a bus - you see none for hours, and then a whole lot turn up at once - and this was the case for us. We had only done one lock before the Bosley flight, then suddenly we were faced with twelve in a row.

    Fortunately, there were Canal and River Trust volunteers on hand to help with the gates and paddles, and we were through mostly without incident, other than a few more scratches to Mollie’s sides.

    Except, that is, for the very first lock. Chris at the helm cruised confidently out of the lock, only to meet a boat going in. Steering to the right, it passed safely, but the narrow canal pound, coupled with the sharpness of the entry turn to the following lock, meant he suffered the indignity of having to push the boat back on course with the pole.

    We also had a couple of opening bridges to contend with before yet another stylish celebration, this time at the Old King’s Head pub at Gurnett Aquaduct.

    Day three on the boat was much less eventful, cruising through attractive rural countryside, and in sunshine. This was exactly the sort of canal trip we had thought about.

    We cruised on past all shapes and sizes of narrowboat, old mills and farms, up as far as High Lane, where, after another stylish dinner, we went back to the boat to think about the consequences of running out of water and therefore not being able to flush the toilet - something we perhaps should have thought of earlier.
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  • Inverness

    23 September 2023, Skotlandia ⋅ ☁️ 13 °C

    The weather was clear for the first time as we left Skye, casting a completely different light on the scenery, with the grass and heather gleaming with dew in the early morning sun.

    Not to worry, though, it soon got grey and windy, although the rain stayed away for our drive to Inverness.

    And what a drive! We decided to go the long way, via Applecross and Torridon, part of the heavily promoted North Coast 500 drive around the north of the country.

    Soon after we turned off the main road we encountered Bealach na Ba - the Pass of the Cattle - and, according to the sign, not recommended for learner drivers, trucks, caravans or slightly nervous people.

    The pass took the Skye concept of the single-lane road to a new level, with even narrower roads, steep climbs, hairpins and quite a few unfenced vertical drops. It was an astounding piece of road.

    Arriving in Inverness, along what was, by comparison, an airport runway, we took ourselves for a walk through the islands on the River Ness, the body of water through which Loch Ness drains into Moray Firth.

    Then, in the morning, we went monster hunting. Well, not exactly. We drove down to Drumnadrochit, where the Loch Ness Centre is located, in the former hotel where Mrs Aldie Mackay , the manager, reported seeing the monster when driving back from Inverness with her husband.

    The Loch Ness Centre is obviously keen to perpetuate the mystery of the monster, but does present some factual debunking as well, all done in quite an entertaining way.

    Then we took a cruise on Loch Ness, which is a quite amazing body of water with or without its rumoured giant, slimy inhabitant. We didn’t see a monster, but we did enjoy an hour or so cruising on the lake, down past the picturesque ruins of Urquhart Castle.

    Inverness itself is a very attractive town, and was buzzing on the Saturday night we were there, so much so that we had trouble finding somewhere to eat. It all worked out, though, but no one thought we would end up doing shots with four rather drunk thirty-something women. All part of the fun of travel, I guess.
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  • The Isle of Skye

    22 September 2023, Skotlandia ⋅ 🌬 12 °C

    We travelled north from Glasgow and stopped for a look at Balloch, and the southern tip of Loch Lomond.

    Even in cold and rather threatening weather, it was still very attractive, with the imposing Ben Lomond rising into the most in the distance. There were very few people around, but, judging by the acres of car parking, it must be packed in summer.

    Then we spent the night just south of Fort William before catching the ferry from Mallaig to Armadale, on the south of the island.

    Actually, this glosses over an episode of incompetence by the boys in the party, who between them couldn’t get the **$$@&!! car into reverse gear! Calls to the rental company and a wait for roadside assistance - who then kindly showed us what to do and, more kindly, didn’t laugh out loud - meant our drinks at the local pub were well-earned.

    We arrived on Skye in the rain, and made our way to the Fairy Pools. Cascading blue and green pools, they say. Gushing, grey-brown water oozing out of every pore of the countryside is what we found, so damp was everything. It was still rather special, although the cold wind and sporadic showers of rain made it a bit uncomfortable.

    The following day we drove north-east to a series of fascinating landmarks, the countryside largely treeless and covered in heather and other low, hardy plants. Hills are steep, with numerous watercourses tumbling down their slopes. Each glimpse of the sea is another beautiful vista, even in the grey rain and mist.

    In between sojourns in the car, we piled out, rugged up, paid handsomely for parking and walked up to another landmark.

    The Old Man of Storr and The Quirang are basalt pinnacles towering over the surrounding area. Kilt Rock is a 105-metre ocean cliff and Mealt Falls drop straight off the edge of the island into the ocean.

    Then there’s Lealt Falls and the Fairy Glen, which was very picturesque, although there were no fairies about. There was quite an amount of fairy droppings on the ground, though, so we could tell they had been there.

    The driving between many of these locations was on single-lane roads, with passing places every fifty or hundred metres apart. It was a little nerve wracking, with oncoming traffic emerging from blind crests and curves, a little too much speed and plenty of oversized camper vans taking up space.

    Our final stop on Skye was Dunvegan Castle, quite nicely preserved and filled with stories of the local Lairds and assorted tenuous connections to royalty.

    That concluded a busy few days. We stayed in a very remote bed and breakfast, with wonderful sea views but certainly not walkable to anything except more hills, so are looking forward to finding a pub in Inverness in the next chapter.
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  • Glasgow

    19 September 2023, Skotlandia ⋅ 🌧 13 °C

    We had a quick visit to Glasgow on the way north, and found some really good things to see.

    We walked the attractive Kelvingrove Park (admittedly in the rain), then caught the cute little Glasgow Subway - with carriages so small you wonder how all the people will fit - to the city centre.

    George Square, with statues of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert mounted in twin equestrian poses at one end, and a pantheon of famous Scots at the other, is a magnificent civic space.

    Just down the street was the Gallery of Modern Art, mostly famous because the Glasgwegians insist on keeping a traffic cone on the head of the statue of the Duke of Wellington that sits outside, a long-standing tradition.

    From there we went to the Clyde River, where we visited the Riverside Museum, full of interesting things (from locomotives to fashions and a lot in between) and interesting stories of the social impact of many of them.

    Outside the museum is the tall ship Glenlee, steel hulled and built on the Clyde in 1896.

    Our final stop - other than a few pints and a curry for dinner - was the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum.

    Housed in a stunning building dating from 1900, we barely skimmed the collection. There were paintings by Rembrandt and Monet, to name just two diverse geniuses, along with Scottish masterpieces and installations galore.

    That was just the top floor. The eclectic collection on the ground floor included a hall full of life-sized stuffed animals apparently being strafed by a Spitfire hung from the ceiling.

    We felt like we packed a lot into our single day in Glasgow; after a well-earned rest we are now getting lost on the motorway system en route to the Isle of Skye.
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  • Norwich

    15 September 2023, Inggris ⋅ ☀️ 24 °C

    The good ship Stena Brittanica took us from Rotterdam to Harwich, and the train to Norwich, where we met up with the Brickwoods and spent three pleasant days.

    More specifically, we have been at Costessey (pronounced “Cossie”, naturally, just as Wymondham is pronounced “Wyndham”) at the home of Kim’s Aunt Sally - a lovely lady and a veritable octogenarian Energiser Bunny!

    We took a turn around the pleasant city of Norwich, through the fancy area around Elm Street, alongside the River Wensum, then back up past the 13th-century cathedral and the 11th-century castle.

    The following day we drove out to Wroxham and took a boat cruise onto the Norfolk Broads. This was a great day out!

    We cruised past the exclusive multi-million pound houses in the town, then down the River Bure to Wroxham Broad, and thence to Salhouse Broad, both of which are extensive lakes formed when the land flooded into areas from which peat had been dug. The bird life was plentiful and the broads a tranquil place but for the five hundred or so boats on the river that day.

    From Wroxham we drove out to Greater Yarmouth, and found a cold, windy, faded seaside destination with lots of children (and adults) high on junk food and not much parking (and, from what we saw, not much else).

    We also drove up and along the north coast, stopping first at Blickling Hall, a National Trust property.

    The current Jacobean building and its formal gardens were constructed in 1616 by Henry Hobart, an ancestor of the fellow for whom Hobart, Tasmania is named. The previous Tudor house was the birthplace of Anne Boleyn. Kim Brickwood’s dad worked on part of the restoration of the building before coming to Australia.

    But enough name dropping.

    The Long Room (37.5 metres, in fact) was a highlight, an indoor sports room in 1616 and a library of over 10,000 books by 1745.

    Cromer, on the north coast of Norfolk, was crowded even on a miserable, windy, rainy Sunday afternoon, with queues outside the fish-and-chip shops and even some intrepid souls playing mini-golf on the wind-swept cliftop.

    Finally, we popped into Wells-next-the-Sea, another picturesque coastal town. Much of the fleet was high and dry when we visited, though, so it probably should be called Wells-next-the-Mud-and-Sand.

    Next stop, Glasgow.
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  • Rotterdam

    11 September 2023, Belanda ⋅ ☁️ 24 °C

    Our two days in Rotterdam were spent seeing some marvellous, different sights and architecture.

    We travelled thirty minutes or so to The Hague, with its imposing Binnenhof (parliament) and streets of most elegant buildings.

    We also took a look into the Mauritshuis, the 17th-century home of the art-loving (and slave-trading) Prince John Maurice. Filled with Rembrandts, Vermeers, Reubens and the like, it was an impressive collection in a wonderful building. Still, you can only see so many “still life with banana” or “portrait of a nobleman” or “collection of nymphs and slightly chubby bare-breasted ladies” before it’s time to move on.

    The Peace Palace, built in 1913 and housing the International Court of Justice, was funded by the master-philanthropist Andrew Carnegie to the tune of $US50 million in today’s money.

    Back on the train, passing through typical green, canal-crossed, sheep- and cow-studded Dutch countryside, we returned to modern, quirky Rotterdam.

    We went to the Markthall, a futuristic giant blimp of a building, with market stalls inside and expensive apartments inside the walls.

    Then we walked down to the Cube Houses, a collection of strange-looking apartments, with hexagonal interior rooms that simply can’t fit regular furniture. Designed in 1977 by architect Piet Blom, they very much invite the question: why?

    This led us to the old port, a canal basin filled with old barges and ships that have mostly been converted to residences and was a pleasant and interesting contrast from the ultra-modern design of most of the city.

    For another change we ventured over to Delfshaven, another historic canal area that has retained some of its charm, and is reached by walking down a street containing kilometres of exactly identical apartments.

    In all, we had a great time in Rotterdam and surrounds. An easy ride on the Metro took us to Hoek van Holland and the ferry to Harwich and the next stage of our journey.
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  • Frankfurt am Main

    10 September 2023, Jerman ⋅ ☀️ 29 °C

    Thanks to the kindness of Vladimir Putin it took fourteen-and-a-half hours to fly to Frankfurt am Main from Tokyo, Russian and other Ukraine-affected airspace being off-limits. It was nice, though, to get glimpses of Alaska, Greenland and Iceland on the way.

    Truth be told, Frankfurt was never on our to-do list, seeing as now we don’t work for the European Central Bank or attend any trade shows. We just spent a few days here because that’s where the flight took us. Nevertheless, it does have some attractions.

    Neue Altstadt - the New Old Town (!!) - is a rather small area reconstructed out of what was left after the allies dropped their bombs in World War Two. It incorporates the Romer, a restored medieval building that has spent a mere 600 years or so as the city’s town hall. Small size notwithstanding, it’s quite an atmospheric area, nestled between the river and the upmarket shopping in Hauptwache.

    A short distance away is the Eiserner Bridge, pedestrians only (and covered in padlocks - it’s a wonder it hasn’t sunk into the river) and leading across the River Main to the Sachsenhausen area. We wandered through the narrow streets full of Apfelwein bars, the inevitable Irish pubs and a statue of Fraa Rauscher - a 19th-century alcoholic - that spits at its audience every minute or so.

    We also walked along the river past the museum quarter, with a number of worthwhile (but unattended by us) museums and galleries, and enjoyed the scenic river views, but not so much the stench of duck and swan shit.

    Finally, we took a cruise up and down the river. Possibly this was overreaching in terms of things to do, but it was interesting in some small way the see the docks, the power station and the metal-recycling plant.

    Next stop on our not-such-a-major-tourism-centre tour will be Rotterdam.
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  • Porto Postscript

    21 Oktober 2022, Portugal ⋅ 🌧 16 °C

    After 14 incredible destinations our trip is coming to an end, and while it wouldn’t be true to say we saved the best for last, Porto is pretty darned good.

    We stayed in Bolhao, about twenty minutes walk up from the bank of the Douro River via a bunch of some very picturesque (but touristic) streets.

    The famous Portuguese azulejo tiles are everywhere - inside and outside churches, on shopfronts and apartment blocks. The bathroom in our apartment was lined with recycled tiles.

    The Sao Bento railway station is a famous tile-spotter’s location, with all four walls of the classic station building lined with tiles depicting great moments in Portuguese history and the people of different regions of the country. Not sure if there are any great moments in Portuguese railway history depicted.

    But it’s the River Douro that sets Porto apart, with the land on all sides sloping steeply down to the wide river, and a series of handsome arch bridges crossing the divide high up on the slopes.

    We walked across the Ponte Luis I, designed, unsurprisingly when you see it, by a protege of Gustav Eiffel, and had brilliant views up and down the river, with Rabelo Boats laden with tourists cruising up and down, and the names of famous Port Wine Houses littering the southern bank.

    At the southern end of the bridge is Jardim do Morro, a small garden with great views that late in the afternoon was full of people lounging around listening to the buskers and waiting for the sunset.

    We also visited the Palacio da Bolsa, a stately building dedicated not to a King or a Religion but which was in fact the Chamber of Commerce (a religion in itself, some would say). The rooms were increasingly handsome and interesting, from the office occupied by the aforementioned M. Eiffel during his several-year stay in Porto all the way to the so-called Arab Room, a fantastical banquet room now available to rent for functions at between 4,000 and 15,000 euros a night.

    For a break, on a rather wet day, we took the train a few hours west to Pinhao, deep in the Douro Valley. The train journey was spectacular, with the track hugging the bank of the river for the last hour of the trip. Then we took a Rabelo Boat a further fifteen kilometres upstream to the junction of the River Tua, admiring the magnificent countryside and the river flowing quite majestically through it.

    So, that’s our trip through the Iberian Peninsula done and dusted. With highlights too numerous to mention, easy transport, friendly people and good company (thank you, Brendan) it was just marvellous!

    Oh, and COVID?

    Well, luckily we didn’t catch it. We had to wear masks on public transport in Spain, and the public were almost universally compliant with this. Otherwise, apart from some fading arrows and spots on the floor, and hand sanitiser almost everywhere, it might never have happened.
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  • Tomar Testimony

    17 Oktober 2022, Portugal ⋅ ⛅ 19 °C

    We caught the train about 400 kilometres north to Tomar watching the countryside change from flat and dry with lots of Cork Oaks, to greener and hillier with more intense agriculture.

    Cork growing must be the ultimate slow agriculture experience. Plant a cork tree. Wait 25 years. Get first harvest, which will not be up to scratch. Wait another 9 years for next harvest (which also may not be). Repeat.

    It is a most pleasant little town, hugging the banks of the River Nabao, with weirs regulating the water and parks for the inhabitants to enjoy themselves. Away from the river, the old town is very picturesque, although it was a little quiet when we wandered through - and stopped for a drink - on a Saturday afternoon.

    It also has the Convento de Cristo, a stone fortress towering above the town.

    Constructed from 1118 by the Knights Templar, it was controlled and improved by them (between fighting crusades and seeing off the Moors) until 1357, when the Order of Christ completed a “friendly takeover” initiated by Pope Clement I in 1312. The Order of Christ continued in occupation until the tourist industry demanded another historic site on top of a hill but with good bus parking.

    We walked up the hill, paid our 3 euros each (seniors discount; disappointingly they rarely seem to ask for proof of age) and wandered through cloister after cloister and room after room. It was an interesting few hours, and the round church was quite spectacular.

    The Festival of Iria, celebrating the virgin Saint Iria’s drowning and subsequent reappearance downriver in a marble tomb, took place the day we were in Tomar. We wandered around the crowded amusement park and market area, all set by the side of the river and full of happy, laughing Tomarites. We also made our way up the pedestrianised, cobbled main street of the old town, had a drink and thought about anywhere else we could remember going to where the shops were shut on a Sunday.
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  • Lagos Listing

    15 Oktober 2022, Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 20 °C

    After the fun and vitality of Lisbon it was great to calm down for a few days on the Algarve to break up our trip.

    But first, we had to get here, via two crowded trains choc-a-bloc with confused people and suitcases that wouldn’t have seemed out of place on the Queen Mary. The second, local, train was standing room only, the aisles full of bodies and backpacks.

    As for Lagos, although (since it’s a part of Europe) it does have an incredible history - most infamously as one of the first slave-trading ports - we just enjoyed the warmth and the scenery. As Dennis Denuto so succinctly put it in “The Castle”, “It’s all about the vibe”. It’s probably one of the most photogenic places we have seen.

    Lagos is on the River Bensafrim, with a vast marina full of rich persons’ playthings and a whole industry devoted to marketing and providing all sorts of water-based tours, from kayaks to yachts, caving to dolphin-spotting.

    The old town area, winding up hill from the river, is a maze of cobblestones covered in bars and restaurants, with music playing and people eating and drinking at all hours of the day and night. Just wandering around is fun.

    Just west of the mouth of the river is Praia da Batata, the first of a series of beaches, some interconnected through arches and tunnels in the sandstone cliffs, that stretches a few kilometres out to the headland at Ponta da Piedade. The scenery is stunning, with the golden sandstone cliffs and ridges, the almost-empty beaches and the clear blue of the sea making for a postcard view at every turn.

    For a few relaxing days Lagos is hard to beat, and even though we successfully avoided all history and culture (true to form, some might say), we’re still leaving with some great memories.
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  • Lisbon Letter (2)

    12 Oktober 2022, Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 16 °C

    As well as having fun in Alfama, choosing badly in restaurants and eating too many custard tarts, we made a couple of day trips.

    Firstly, Evora, a couple of hours away by train, and probably most famous for the Capela dos Ossos, part of the Church of St Francis. Faced with a dearth of interior design ideas, and having 5,000 exhumed bodies on hand, the entrepreneurial Franciscan monks thought that lining the walls of the chapel would be a good use for all those hard-to-store bones.

    It was strangely aesthetic rather than gruesome, although the building trade are unlikely to offer it to would-be buyers anytime soon. Still, for DIY…

    There was also a museum displaying, among other things, a part of the monastery’s collection of over 2,000 nativity scenes, some of which were magnificent pieces of craftsmanship and others just plain weird.

    Evora also has a Roman connection, and we took a walk past the ruins of the Temple of Evora, another part of the town’s UNESCO heritage.

    We also visited Sintra, set in a lush, beautiful bunch of hills just northeast of the city.

    Joining a surging mass of tourists, we queued up for our turn in the Pena Palace, a fantastical faux fortress built in 1838, by then King Consort Ferdinand II (although it was on the site of a ruined fortress that had existed since the Middle Ages). It had spectacular views of the surrounding countryside (at least, after the fog lifted) and the clambering around the ramparts was fun, but we had to sort of flow through the interiors along with the rest of the sea of visitors and didn’t really get a chance to savour the experience.

    More interesting in some ways was the National Palace, in Sintra township itself. With heritage dating back to the Moors and additions made, mainly in the 15th and 16th centuries, by a succession of kings and queens, it was a quite fascinating look at the way the royal court lived and interacted with the rest of us.

    The National Palace also has a pair of very distinctive tall, white towers and we pondered over their use until, at the end of the tour, in the kitchen, we found out that they were the chimneys!

    Our time in Lisbon has now come to an end, almost as soon as we had mastered the metro, taken the tram and learnt the labyrinth of the local area. We are off to the Algarve tomorrow for - hopefully - some time in the sun.
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  • Lisbon Letter (1)

    10 Oktober 2022, Portugal ⋅ 🌧 18 °C

    No Lisbon travel story would be complete without a shot of tram 28 winding its way through the tortuous streets of the Alfama district. The photographs, however, don’t convey the shaking of building, rumbling and rattling of machinery and screech of steel wheel on rail that accompanies the passing of each one past our apartment. Two metres from our apartment. Every fifteen minutes (and often much more frequent), six-ish in the morning to after ten at night.

    Actually, despite the noise, the discovery that we were on the route for tram 28 was quite exciting, and we loved watching the trams squeeze through the narrow passageway near our place and being able to use them for some of our commuting into town. The Alfama district was a great and welcoming place to stay.

    We started our look around Lisbon on the bank of the Tagus River, staring at the vast, prosperous-looking Placa do Commercio, with King Dom Jose I in its centre and the massive triumphal arch of the Arco de Rua Augusta guarding the way inland.

    We visited the very well-presented Lisbon Story, an audio-visual telling of Lisbon’s history, especially in relation to the earthquake of 1755, which quite possibly resulted in 90,000 deaths as well as the flat, regular grid system of the downtown Baixa district, while the areas to the east and west are completely higgledy-piggledy.

    We walked up to the Miradouro de Alcantara, one of a seemingly endless number of viewpoints around the seven hills of the city, then rode downtown again on the funicular Ascensor de Gloria.

    By far the best views of the city and surrounds, however, were from Castelo de Sao Jorge (another Saint George - he seems to have utilised his dragon-killing skills in lots of places), where we also stumbled around the battlements and looked into some archaeological diggings.

    On our second day, the Lisbon Marathon took place. How they found enough relatively flat streets for it is anyone’s guess, but there was a great carnival atmosphere downtown, accompanied by cheers from the spectators and limping and groaning from the competitors.

    We also took in some culture at, among others, Mosteiro dos Jeronimos, west of town and containing the tomb of Vasco da Gama, as well as at Igreja de Sao Roque, a quite beautiful church with a museum devoted mainly to holy relics. Fortunately there were no saintly body parts on display this time.
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  • San Sebastian Spiel

    7 Oktober 2022, Spanyol ⋅ ☁️ 20 °C

    What a contrast! We left dry, brown, monumental Madrid, sat on a train for five hours of changing scenery and ended up in Basque Country, in green, seaside San Sebastian.

    With its own language, higher wealth relative to the rest of Spain and independent spirit, the Basque area is a bit unique. With the beautifully shell-shaped La Concha Bay, a vibrant and crowded old town and a fun-loving mix of locals and tourists, San Sebastián is most definitely unique.

    Although each part of the city has its appeal, “attractive” is the common theme. Even the railway station roof was designed by Gustav Eiffel.

    The old town, which, as it dates from the early 1800’s, isn’t really all that old, is an exciting network of narrow streets lined with crowded bars and restaurants and hordes of tourists. At its heart is Constitution Square, very picturesque and formerly a bull ring.

    The beachfront, with acres and acres of sand, is a standout amongst its peers, with a broad attractive promenade lined with some elegant-if-aged hotels from a bygone era. The beach, too, was dotted with leathery, elegant-if-aged humans relaxing in various states of semi-undress.

    We caught an antique funicular up Monte Igueldo, and found, along with the incredible views of the city and up and down the coast, a tacky amusement park taking up prime real estate.

    We also walked along the Urumea River that flows through town, and around the base of Mount Urgull for some great views of the Bay of Biscay.

    It has been good to finish our time in Spain with such a highlight. Some of the little things we will remember include the Hotel Niza, with its elevator dated 1911 and floors that sloped inwards as though the whole building was being sucked down the lift well. Then there was the Indian restaurant that had RUN OUT OF PAPPADUMS!

    We head to Portugal now, still enchanted by the wonders of Spain.
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  • Madrid Memorandum (2)

    3 Oktober 2022, Spanyol ⋅ ⛅ 20 °C

    Our Madrid adventure continued with a few hours in the Prado. It was a great experience and we walked and stared until our legs ached. But boy, some of those artists must have had some weird stuff going on! Just take a look at Goya’s black paintings, for example (but don’t do it in front of the children!).

    We took a look at Retiro, the huge, manicured park, complete with boating lake, statues, buskers and lunchers that was quite packed on a Saturday afternoon, as was Plaza Mayor, the huge and elegant main square.

    The Temple of Debod, given to Spain in return for helping with the Aswan Dam, was an unexpected sight in another impressive park.

    We also took a day tour to Avila and Segovia, ten hours either sitting on a bus or following a woman with a flag.

    Avila, of which we had never heard, was a neat little town - the historic old town centre almost toy-like - with quite immaculate intact city walls, a basilica and the Iglesia-convento de Santa Teresa, built on the site of her birthplace. Saint Teresa means a lot to the Avilians, although whether it was a good idea to keep one of her wrinkled, decayed, 700-year-old fingers on display is uncertain. Still, apparently Rome has her right foot and part of her upper jaw, and there are other bits of her in various locations around Europe, so they’re not the only ones.

    Segovia, much bigger and with a spectacularly-sited alcazar, was more real, and we walked right across town from the Alcazar to the cathedral and finally the famous aqueduct. And rightly famous it is, too. Running right down one side of the Plaza del Azoguejo, and about 25 metres tall at its highest, it is pretty much unavoidable. It was an impressive end to an exciting, if long, day.

    We finished off our time in Madrid with some more walking downtown, followed by a couple of drinks in the rooftop bar of the Circulo de Bellas Artes. It was crowded and atmospheric, but, to be honest, a beautiful skyline isn’t really one of Madrid’s prime attributes.

    Madrid has been a brilliant, entertaining and interesting experience.
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  • Madrid Memorandum (1)

    1 Oktober 2022, Spanyol ⋅ 🌙 18 °C

    Even a two-hour delay on our train from Caceres couldn’t dampen our spirits, as we left the heat of the south and settled into a cooler and rather damp Madrid.

    Our first stop was the Palacio Real, surrounded all around by beautifully manicured square and gardens and aesthetically matched by the cathedral across the square from it.

    The cathedral has the almost unique distinction of NOT being recommended for a visit by the Lonely Planet, so we skipped it.

    The Palacio Real, though, was stunning. Room after room filled with sumptuous furnishings and works of art, each decorated differently and almost all with incredible frescoes on their ceilings, it was almost a bit “ho-hum, another beautiful room” by the end. The Gasparini Room, entirely floor to ceiling and wall to wall carvings and Rococo swirls, took 55 years to finish, which was unfortunate as the king who commissioned it died in the meantime.

    There was some recent history there as well, including the signed deed of abdication of King Juan Carlos I from 2014. The Spanish people, it seems, didn’t take kindly to either his elephant hunting, his dodgy deals with Saudi businessmen or his mistress. Either way, it was interesting to see some modern history in amongst the antiquities.

    The following day we took a train to Toledo and, no, didn’t see Corporal Klinger anywhere.

    We did see some beautiful windows and stonework (that was just the railway station) as we trudged up the hill and across the Alcantara bridge (11th-century, but originally Roman) into the town.

    We spent longer than expected in the cathedral - Catedral Primada Santa Maria de Toledo, the head honcho of Spanish churches. That was because it was one of the best we have seen, particularly its stunning altar piece - “El Transparente” - lit by light from an incredibly-decorated skylight high in the structure.

    Toledo, was also fun (if slightly hard work) to walk around. Plaza Zocodover was crowded and bustling and the Synagogue of El Transito contained a small and indecipherable museum. Unfortunately, the Alcazar, imposingly commanding even in hilly Toledo, was closed for renovations.

    Since the sword is now pretty much obsolete for anything other than opening very large letters, it was also intriguing to see shop after shop selling this famous-if-now-pointless Toledo product.

    Madrid continues in a few days time…
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  • Caceres Correspondence

    27 September 2022, Spanyol ⋅ 🌙 19 °C

    We left the heat and bustle of Seville and took a very interesting 4-hour local train ride to Caceres, winding and rattling our way up hill from Andalucia until the land flattened out into a vast, brown plain for miles in every direction.

    We saw some interesting places, most of them rather desolate. Modern factories near the main roads had replaced the ruined ones by the side of the railway line.

    At the stations there would be a crowd of onlookers to see the travellers off, as if a train journey was still an event to be anticipated and romanticised.

    Caceres was a pleasant change, cooler and calmer. Dating to the year 25 BC but largely enhanced in the 1500’s using riches plundered from the Americas, its combination of Roman, Moorish and Western architecture got it onto the UNESCO list in 1986.

    The Monumental City of Caceres, the old town, is a monochromatic tribute to the art of stonemasonry, all brown-grey stone buildings and brown-grey cobblestones. The only other colours to be seen are the occasional flag on an official building and the traffic signs.

    We walked around and around, up and down hill, and took a look into the Concatedral de Santa Maria and its bell tower. We then visited the Museo de Caceres, which would have benefited from some English descriptions, although it was free for us old people. It also turned out there were some works by Picasso and El Greco in the fine arts section, but we ignoramuses breezed past them without paying attention.

    The museum building was on the site of the original Moorish fortress from the 12th century and we took a look down into the water cistern that still lies intact underneath.

    Finally, Plaza Mayor, adjacent to the old town, was a great, huge place to have a drink and a snack and watch the world go by (with a brown-grey backdrop). Come eight o’clock it would be crowded with couples, noisy children, dogs and pigeons, the restaurants would be filling up and another day of our Spanish holiday would be coming to a close.
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