Train travels
25 de setembro de 2017, França
🌧 19 °C
With Brian still frustrated by our lack of a rental car, and Mary telling him to forget about it ("laissez tomber," as the French would say), we decided to explore the countryside by train. We'd heard that Limoux was an attractive place worth a visit, so we set off to the station and bought ourselves tickets at €4.25 each at the ticket office. Our local train arrived, and took us on the one-hour trip. While the train was certainly comfortable and quite modern, it was all rather quaint. It stopped three times en route, at fly-speck sized sidings which didn't even seem to have names, let alone proper station platforms. Limoux, our destination, was little better. The couple of dozen passengers got off, and we then had to walk across the railway tracks, behind the departing train, to reach the station itself. Nearly all the passengers then climbed on to a waiting bus and we, thinking that maybe it was a shuttle bus from the station to the town, tried to get on board too. The friendly bus driver indicated to us that he was going to someplace else, and he pointed us in the direction of the town centre.
So, we headed off on foot, with lots of old buildings around us but nothing to tell us which direction we should be heading. There wasn't even a nearby church steeple in sight. Eventually we found our way to the town square, but probably because it was a Monday at least half the businesses were closed. To make matters worse the overcast sky looked quite threatening, so the town didn't look all that tempting to a couple of Australian pedestrians. We'd seen a sign to the tourist office and tried to follow it. However, there were no further directional signs to keep us on track. By asking a few locals along the way, we eventually found our way to the office, located on the very edge of the business district. The man there was very helpful, giving us maps and brochures. He agreed that the office was hard to find, and said that they'd been complaining for ages to the town authorities about the lack of signage. We were by no means the first ones to complain. Most things in France are done very well, but every so often they let themselves down.
We then headed back to the town square about 500m away, and by the time we got there it was starting to rain. We had a bit of a look around but there really wasn't very much to see. The only good thing was that there weren't too many tourists - or locals, for that matter - wandering the streets. The tourist office man had told us that several of the town's attractions weren't open on Mondays, and even one museum which he'd said would be open proved not to be. By this time, the rain had really set in and had become quite heavy. Fortunately there were plenty of sheltered chairs and tables to choose from in front of the (closed) restaurants in the square, so we were able to keep dry. We weren't too confident though of staying dry while trying to navigate the kilometre or so back to the station. At least there were a good two hours before the next train out of town, so were in no great hurry. We'd decided though that we would catch that train home as there seemed little point in hanging around a bleak Limoux any longer than necessary. Very likely, on a fine warm day (preferably not a Monday) it's a very attractive place. We certainly weren't seeing it at its best.
While sitting at our table, we got chatting to an English couple, similarly waiting for the rain to stop. They at least had the benefit of a car to get around in, but they told us that most of the local train and bus trips in the area cost only a nominal €1 each, and that included the €4.25 train trip which we'd done earlier that day. Evidently, there is a red coin in the slot machine at each station where one buys these cheap tickets. As remarked upon earlier, the French train system is spectacularly good, but then there are quirks which let them down. The lack of escalators at most stations is one major annoyance. Another quirk is the peculiar signage and numbering. When we were catching the train to Limoux that morning, the monitor directed us to Platform A. We could see directional signs for platforms numbered 1, 2 and 3, but no A. Eventually we discovered that the station did in fact have a Platform A. Why not simply call it Platform 4? Similarly, it seems that the numerous standard self-serve ticket machines dispense full-priced tickets, but if one is in the know then the same tickets can be bought from other machines for a fraction of the price.
Anyway, after a half-hour or so wait, and to our great relief, the rain stopped. Even though our train wasn't due for another hour or so, we decided to head back to the station. There was no sign of a red ticket-dispensing machine, but when Brian asked the ticket office clerk for two €1 tickets, she readily handed them over. We'll know for next time. We were amused by the railway track with its waist-high weeds growing between the rails. It looked derelict, but our little train arrived spot on time and delivered us back to Carcassonne. Seeing the weather was so lousy, Brian had planned to trek up the hill from the hotel to the Mediaeval City and look for a few souvenirs to take back with us. He figured that the weather would have deterred the tourist hordes. However by that time the rain had restarted, so it deterred him as well.
In an action-packed fun-filled holiday, this hadn't been one of our better days, but given that every day apart from this one had been fantastic, we've nothing to complain about. Plans are for the next day, our last full day before we head for home, to include a train trip to Narbonne. We didn't know what we would find, so were approaching it with some trepidation.Leia mais
El Speth sharing a damp day with you.
A quiet day in Carcassonne
24 de setembro de 2017, França
☀️ 27 °C
By this time, we'd explored most of the interesting parts of Carcassonne on foot and wanted to find out about areas further afield, Fabro, our host on the river cruise, comes from this area and had already given us a list of must-see places. Some are accessible by public transport, but there are others which can reach only by car.
We thought that the logical place to start would be the tourist office in this tourist-oriented town, so we fronted up there just as the doors were opening at 10am. The first thing the girl told us was that one needs a car in order to explore the area. Well, thanks for nothing. We explained our predicament, but she couldn't get rid of us quickly enough, throwing some place-names, a couple of railway timetables and a map at us before turning away to serve the next customer. What we did establish was that train services on a Sunday are almost non-existent in that neck of the woods, though that part didn't worry us since we were prepared to go on the Monday or Tuesday.
We then wandered off to find the Gourmet Market, but that turned out to be a bit of a fizzer, with only about a dozen stalls of nothing very exciting. The previous day's produce market had been far more interesting. It was a fine warm day, so were happy to sit in the square watching the world go by.
However one can't spend the whole day doing that, so we booked ourselves onto a 2.5 hour boat trip on the Canal du Midi, which runs through the town. These days, the 240km canal carries only tourist traffic, but when it was built in the 1600s it was a major part of the trade link in France from the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean. It is a major engineering feat, with 91 locks and some very cunning engineering to keep it navigable along its entire length. Anyway, the trip was very interesting and very picturesque, For the most part we travelled in heavily wooded areas with no signs of civilisation. During Napoleon's time large stretches were planted with plane trees, which are now very mature. Their roots play a major part in preventing erosion of the canal walls. A quiet but enjoyable day, indeed.
On Sundays in Carcassonne most businesses, including restaurants, are closed. Knowing that the restaurants in the immediate vicinity are crowded most nights, we decided that it would be prudent to book for our Sunday night meal. A place we'd been recommended was the Jardin de L'Été, a couple of hundred metres from the hotel. This we did, and as it was shaping up to be a mild night, after a very warm day, we asked for a table in the aforementioned jardin. Per our booking, we arrived at 8pm and were ushered outside to a pleasant walled garden, paved with coarse gravel and at least the size of two tennis courts. It was already quite full, and we could see that the one and only waitress was being run off her feet. There were a couple of large groups, more of that in a moment, and it was a long time between visits to our table to deliver the menu, take our orders, deliver them and so forth. In fact it was approaching 11pm before we finally finished. By then, it was getting quite chilly and we were longing for our hotel room. Our waitress was most apologetic. It seems that the owner had decided to open the garden on the Sunday night as a trial and had been overwhelmed by the response. It wasn't the fault of our poor waitress who'd been running herself ragged serving meals across this large gravelled area.
It's probably just as well that we were outside because two of the groups were very noisy. We'd heard already that Carcassonne is a popular place for the English, both for holidays and as a place to retire to. Certainly we heard more regional pommy accents in and around Carcassonne, including in our little hotel, than anything else. That was in contrast to the other parts of France we visited where the English-speaking tourists were mainly Canadians and Americans. Anyway, Brian came to the conclusion that the group of loud pommy males was a load of bus-drivers from Birmingham, while the other large table, of about eight couples comprised fruit shop owners and their wives from 'uddersfield. Turning all of that into a running joke certainly helped the time go by for we two impatient hungry travellers.
Was it worth the wait? Probably not, though we knew that after the magnificent meals on Le Phenicien everything else was going to seem pretty ordinary.Leia mais
Food porn and exploring Carcassonne
23 de setembro de 2017, França
☀️ 23 °C
We'd arrived in the dark, so the next morning was our first chance to look around. The hotel is on a quiet street, and it is only a ten-minute walk up the hill to the Cité Médiévale. This UNESCO-protected site sits high above Carcassonne, and its walls dominate the skyline. Since the pre-Roman period, a fortified settlement has existed on the hill where Carcassonne now stands. In its present form it is an outstanding example of a medieval fortified town, with its massive defences encircling the castle and the surrounding buildings, its streets and its fine Gothic cathedral. Carcassonne is also of exceptional importance because of the lengthy restoration campaign undertaken by Viollet-le-Duc, one of the founders of the modern science of conservation.
Meanwhile down below, on the banks of the Aude River, there is the old town of Carcassonne with its narrow streets interesting architecture. By comparison it is almost new, merely dating back to the Middle Ages, and that's where our hotel is located. In the shadow of its smaller but more famous sibling, the ‘La Cité’ citadel. Known as the ‘Bastide Saint Louis’, it features typically French bars, shops, cafés and restaurants,
We thought that we'd start out by doing the walk up to the Cité Médiévale. When we got there things were fairly quiet, and Brian was able to take plenty of photos while relatively unimpeded by massive tour groups and narcissistic individuals taking selfies while posing in front of the spectacularly beautiful views. Cité Médiévale is amazing in that no matter where you turn there's a new and photogenic perspective of the place. As the morning progressed, the crowds really started arriving in droves and the place filled up with tourists, Brian still managed some shots which shouldn't require too much PhotoShopping to eliminate all the tourists, though it was challenging at times.
Like so many of the tourist hotspots we'd visited over the past couple of weeks Cité Médiévale is full of souvenir shops, food shops and restaurants by the dozens, all designed to part the hordes of passing tourists from their euros, dollars, pounds or whatever. In amongst all the cheap plastic garbage and the unashamedly kitsch items there are many quality souvenirs, but they tend to be very expensive at these places. In terms of the food shops there and elsewhere in France, it doesn't matter whether one is looking at boulangeries, lolly shops or patisseries (Brian's downfall) the food is always presented beautifully and it's of high quality. Buy something as simple as a ham and cheese baguette and it will come from a display where everything is laid out with geometric neatness and is irresistibly inviting. One can't help but want to buy it - and a few other items at the same time. When you receive it, it is usually packaged beautifully. The same goes for the patisseries, where you just stand there salivating while deciding which of the many different items on display you should buy. Unlike the cakes in Australia which generally look better than they taste, we found that the French cakes and pastries not only look good but taste fantastic as well. Then there are the sweet shops, which generally also sell small biscuits in a range of flavours. Everything is packaged and displayed beautifully and it is hard to resist the temptation to buy nearly everything in sight. Food porn, indeed.
We then took a step forward in time, relatively speaking, and browsed the shops and narrow streets of the old town. Again, highly photogenic and very interesting. There are two beautiful squares, Place Carnot which is in the centre of town and filled with old shops, and Square Gambetta which is much more open and modern. Both are very appealing. Three mornings a week there's a produce market in Place Carnot, and we reached the square an hour or so before the stall-holders were packing up. While it was quite a bit smaller than its counterpart in Lyon, everything still looked beautiful and very tempting - more food porn. We noticed some posters stating that the following day, which was a Sunday, there was going to be an annual so-called Gourmet Market in the square and we decided that we must get to that.
Speaking of food, as we have been, we were determined to try the feature dish of the area, cassouelet. The one we had for dinner contained duck, and fantastic it was too. We really like this place.Leia mais
At the end, the pot of gold
22 de setembro de 2017, França
☀️ 25 °C
Sadly, we packed our bags, more or less ready to move on to Carcassonne, our next destination. Our train was due to leave at the civilised time of 1455 from Gare Montparnasse, so we were still able to enjoy a leisurely breakfast Parisian style. After checking out, we gave ourselves an hour more of Parisian exploration before we'd take our lives in our hands on the Metro. We'd already seen enough excitement on the underground, and were fervently hoping for an incident-free trip to the main line station of Gare Montparnasse.
In the meantime, we decided to explore a few streets we hadn't visited before in the area between Les Invalides and L'École Militaire. What a great group of shops were there, much more reasonably priced than on the Champs Élysées and just as interesting. That included a whole lot of new restaurants less touristy than the ones on Rue St Clair and Rue Dominique. Clearly, Paris was already beckoning us to come back for another visit. Our very helpful and friendly hotel receptionist had already told us that morning that we should try to visit Paris next time in July/August rather than in September. Not only is the weather better then but he said that the place is less crowded and prices are lower. It was the opposite from what we'd thought, but evidently major events such as Paris Fashion Week take place in September and draw huge crowds. We've made a mental note for next time.
Eventually the time came for us to catch the Metro, a part of the trip which we weren't exactly looking forward to. With all their steep stairways up and down, some of the stations are quite challenging for people with luggage. We'd loaded most of our belongings into Brian's suitcase, and Mary bravely pushed on with her bag, but was struggling. (It wasn't all that easy for Brian either). Fortunately, there were so many younger and fitter passers-by who were willing to help her on those wretched stairs. We reached Gare Montparnasse in good time with about 90 minutes to spare before the scheduled departure time. These major stations are huge, with people milling about everywhere, and it isn't always easy to work out what one should do. Furthermore none of the announcements are in English, and the rapidly-gabbled announcements over a distorted PA system are way too challenging for Brian's basic French language skills.
We knew that for security reasons or whatever the platform number for each train gets announced only 20 minutes before departure, after which there's a mad scramble to reach right coach on the right train on the right platform. So, when we got to five minutes before scheduled departure and our platform number still wasn't showing on the monitors, we started to get anxious. It was then that another announcement in French came over the PA and all the crowd around us went rushing off in one direction. We kind of followed them, unsure as to whether that was the right thing to do, until we eventually found someone who spoke English and who reassured us that, yes, this crowd was all heading for our train on Platform 7 and that it wouldn't leave until everyone was on board.
We had booked to travel first class on a really good pricing deal and were in Coach number 1. Just to complicate matters we saw that there were two different route numbers and two trains travelling end-to-end. The back-end carriages would be going only as far as Bordeaux while the front half of the train would proceed to Toulouse, our destination. We assumed that the train would stop briefly at Bordeaux to allow this to happen in a safe and orderly manner, though one can never be sure of these things. It was vital therefore that we boarded the correct end of the train since there was no way that one could walk its entire length as there were a couple of locomotives in the middle. This double-train turned out to be really long, long enough to cover two time zones we reckoned, and it took us quite a while for us to reach the front coach.
Once on board we were really impressed. The carriage was spacious with big comfortable seats and various facilities for business people to work while they travelled at 300kph or so. On time to the minute, we disembarked at Toulouse station where, fortunately, we had 45 minutes in which to work out how to print our pre-ordered tickets for the next sector and find the right platform. Naturally, that involved several more flights of steps but we got there in the end. Of course our original plan had us collecting an Avis rental at Toulouse, so from this point on we were on Plan B. It involved a commuter train which we caught for the hour-long journey to Carcassonne, comfortable enough but not a patch on the luxury of the TGV. A helpful chap we'd chatted to on the train Googled our hotel and told us that it was definitely a long way from the station and that we'd haveto grab a cab. We therefore wandered across to the taxi rank, which was deserted apart from another couple who were waiting there already. They told us we'd need to phone for a cab - the phone number was on a nearby sign - and the operator told us there would be a wait of at least 20 minutes. Fortunately, it wasn't raining, but we weren't too happy at having to wait in this dark isolated area, particularly after the other couple's cab had arrived and taken them to their hotel. After a good 30 minutes we decided to hell with this. Brian's GPS indicated that it was a 1.5km walk and off we set along a lot of deserted and uneven footpaths. We admit that by then we were feeling somewhat cranky, but managed to reach the Hotel Pont Vieux, an old building overlooking a historic bridge (hence the name) and a quiet street with several restaurants.
We were greeted warmly by the patron and patronne, who made us feel very welcome. They asked if we minded being on the top (ie third) floor, which we didn't. Thank goodness, the patron carried our bags for us up the narrow winding staircase. They told us they'd put us in a newly renovated family suite, and when we saw it, we were impressed. The main bedroom was quite spacious, and there was a second room with two single beds, which gave us plenty of room to store our bags. The bathroom was big and brand-new. We were certainly very happy with our choice of hotel. After all those dozens of stairways and long walks with our luggage we were shattered, so after a quick meal at a nearby restaurant we hit the sack. At least we knew that after a day of great ups and downs we'd struck gold.Leia mais
Wow. What a day you had. We thought it was just us that had those sort of days when using the European train system (our train adventure was in Italy). Sorry, but I did laugh a couple of times when you mentioned carting your bags up and down steep stairs at the stations and running to catch the correct train....it's certainly not for the faint hearted. But us Australian and New Zealand "older" travellers won't let anything get in the way of a good holiday (and a good story). You two are having such a wonderful holiday. We can't wait to come visit you so we can get all the tips and tricks you picked up along the way. Thanks so much for the get blog. It's been a treat. Enjoy Carcassonne. xxxx Paula and Gary
Never a dull moment
21 de setembro de 2017, França
⛅ 17 °C
We caught up with our good friends Ian and Eileen for a farewell breakfast at the lovely cafe across the road from the hotel. Later, we chatted with them for a few minutes before they went off to do their packing and we set off with a fairly flexible plan to get to know this wonderful city even better. One thing that's certain is that if one is on holiday in Paris, every day is a good day. Some days may be better than others, but all of them are fantastic.
Actually, we were very well organised for the first part of this, our last full day, in Paris. We'd decided that we wanted to use the Metro the next day to get ourselves plus luggage from La Tour Maubourg to Gare Montparnasse, from where our train would be leaving for Carcassonne via Toulouse. At least half the Metro stations are quite challenging for this sort of activity, with lots of up and down stairways, some quite long and steep, and mazes of long underground walkways. Most of these stations are yet to be equipped with lifts or escalators. Brian had mapped out two possible routes for getting to Gare Montparnasse, and armed with our tourist transport passes we decided that we'd try each of them out and decide which would be the easier one with our luggage.
It started out well with us catching the Metro to Concorde station, where we'd change to Line 12 to reach our destination. However, two stops short of Gare Montparnasse, at Rennes, our train stopped, the lights dimmed and an announcement came over the loudspeaker. Evidently somewhere nearby there had been a suicide and our train wasn't going any further. Everyone was to leave the train. After some thought we decided the best bet would be to go to the opposite platform and catch a train back to base and at least try the other route. We soon learned that that wasn't possible either as trains had been stopped in both directions. Some of our fellow passengers were most put out, but at least for us it wasn't too big an inconvenience.
We then headed up to street level and found that we weren't all that far from the Montparnasse area where we'd stayed on our first visit and which we knew to be attractive. However our dramas weren't totally over. As we emerged we saw several TV cameras set up near the entrance, with outside broadcast vans, and large numbers of police and other characters milling round. Evidently, a huge day of union protests at Emmanuel Macron's labour reforms was about to start, and this area seemed to be a focal point. We decided to move right along, and knowing that the beautiful Jardin du Luxembourg was only a short distance away, we headed there, picking up some fruit (including a punnet of Brian's obligatory raspberries and Mary's obligatory grapes) for our lunch. It had been a long time since we'd eaten so healthily so, as well as being very tasty, the fresh fruit helped us ease our consciences.
We'd spent half a day on our previous trip enjoying the gardens and were happy to return there on this warm sunny day. It was great, and looking extra good as the autumn colours were starting to appear. Both of us even managed a short nap in the sun. From there we took a wander up to the Pantheon, which we hadn't seen before, but decided just to admire it from the outside rather than pay the entry fee. We did however visit the nearby church of Sainte Genèvieve. It was certainly well worth it. From there, we wandered through the Latin Quarter and down to the Jardin des Plantes, where we managed to get ourselves thoroughly disorientated and lost. We weren't so homesick that we needed a fix, but in our travels we wandered past a section of the Menagerie where a couple of dozen wallabies were happily grazing on lush green grass, a diet probably more flavoursome than they would have enjoyed back home.
It was late afternoon by then, and we were becoming footsore and weary, so we decided to find a Metro station and head back to base. In a final burst of energy, Brian then decided that we would explore the other route for getting ourselves to Gare Montparnasse. This would require us to change trains at La Motte-Picquet station, but when we saw just how many flights of steep stairs that was going to entail, we soon decided that the Concorde option would be the better one. One can but hope that there won't be any other such disruptions to our best-laid plans when we're carrying our luggage.
We'd certainly earnt ourselves a relaxing drink by that time, so decided to head across the road from the hotel to the cafe where we'd been enjoying our breakfasts. It turned out that they run a happy hour (well, five hours, actually) from 5pm each night, so we enjoyed a half-litre of good beer and a glass of genuine champagne together with a bowl of nibbles for the grand total of ten euros - very cheap by Parisian standards. We sat in the sun at a small table on the footpath watching the world go by and thinking about the great unplanned day we'd just had.Leia mais
Another glorious day in Par(ad)is(e)
20 de setembro de 2017, França
⛅ 15 °C
The weather when we woke up was beautiful, so what's not to like about that? Going to our busy little cafe for breakfast, the proprietor seemed a little slow to take our order. Following the bad dinner experience of the previous night - though at a different restaurant - we were getting a little concerned when he suddenly appeared with Mary's cappuccino and Brian's double espresso, followed immediately afterwards by the rest of the Frencj breakfast. Clearly, he'd remembered us from our previous visits and didn't need to ask us what we wanted, and clearly too, we're established here. We could happily stay on in Paris.
After the four of us hade breakfasted we decided that this would be a day for strolling round Paris and revisiting all the tourist spots. The 15-minute walk to the Eiffel Tower was a good start, and we spent quite a bit of time taking photos and generally soaking up the atmosphere on this beautiful autumn morning. From there, we wandered up towards the Champs Élysées, looking in shop windows at all the grossly overpriced name-brand goods. Even the coffees we bought were double the going rate anywhere else. Still, we were on holiday, so these things shouldn't matter.
We then headed for the Tuileries Garden, where the crowds were much less, and on to the Île de la Cité and the Nôtre Dame. We had contemplated visiting the nearby Sainte-Chapelle with its fantastic stained glass windows, but the queue was quite long and we didn't feel like waiting. We really weren't confident that Eileen's walking stick would work for us a second time. Anyway,people were starting to flag by then, so we headed back to our hotel, diverting en route to the newly-discovered Karamel Cafe for decadent cakes and coffee.
Ian and Eileen had very generously wanted to shout us the previous night as our Golden Wedding anniversary dinner, but that of course had turned out to be a total disaster, fortunately at no cost to ourselves. We decided to have another try, but this time to go more upmarket. We'd been recommended a restaurant with the unlikely name of Fitzgerald which was only 100m or so from the hotel, so we decided to give it a try. It turned out to be quite classy and very very enjoyable, and we were grateful to our good friends Ian and Eileen for their generosity. Another fantastic Parisian day.Leia mais
Always carry a stick
20 de setembro de 2017, França
⛅ 7 °C
The day was overcast and drizzly when the four of us set off mid-morning, after our leisurely breakfasts. That meant adopting Plan B, a visit to the Musée d'Orsay rather than a stroll to the Eiffel Tower and other significant places. We caught the Metro for one stop to Les Invalides, from where we walked below ground, up and down stairs, to catch an RER train for one stop to the Museum. We probably walked at least as far through the various tunnels as if we'd walked along the streets, but at least we were warm and dry.
Eileen had been suffering from a bad hip for a few weeks prior to this, and her specialist had recommended she take a walking stick with her to Paris. She wasn't too keen on the idea, but took his advice nevertheless and had borrowed one from a friend in Harrogate. We emerged from the Metro directly outside the Museum only to be confronted with a massive queue of people waiting to get in. It must have been a couple of hundred metres long, though it was moving steadily. We were of two minds whether it was worth the wait, but in the end we decided to do so. We'd been waiting less than five minutes when a security guard beckoned to Eileen to come with him, then gestured for us to follow. At first we didn't know why, but when the guard led us to the head of the queue, ahead of the waiting hordes, we realised that he'd spotted Eileen's walking stick and, probably under instructions, had saved her (and us) from waiting in line.
All of us had been to Musée d'Orsay previously but were keen to make a return trip as it really is a magnificent place. We and the Lees agreed to go our separate ways to look at the displays we each were most interested in. We'd rendezvous again in 1.5 hours and decide then whether we'd continue in the Museum or move on. When we met up, we agreed that we'd barely scratched the surface, so allowed ourselves a further two hours. After that, we wanted another time extension, so all in all we were there for a good five hours. With all the sculptures, the Impressionist paintings, the van Gogh paintings, the spectacular antique furniture and much, much more it was fantastic. A most enjoyable visit, even if there was much which we didn't get to see. There must have been thousands of people there, but fortunately it's such a huge place that, aside from the Impressionist and the van Gogh areas, it wasn't impossibly crowded. At least Eileen's walking stick had saved us a wait in a very long queue.
Something which has always puzzled Brian in France is that there are so many spectacular patisseries selling beautiful cakes, but that none of them have tables where one can sit down to eat them. Nor do they serve coffee. Meanwhile, the cafes and bars which do serve coffee never have particularly good cakes. Surely there must be a business opportunity for someone who wants to combine the two? Anyway, Brian had previously spotted a place not far from our hotel which did look like it would meet all those requirements, and as the weather had fined up, we decided to walk back there for a late afternoon tea. The cafe met all our expectations and then some. Fantastic cakes, fantastic coffee and excellent friendly service. Cafe Karamel has the lot. Despite our protests, Ian and Eileen very generously shouted us the afternoon tea as part of their 50th wedding anniversary gift to us. We didn't know it yet, but it was all going to be downhill from there.
We were all feeling a little weary, so headed back to our hotel to rest, agreeing to meet in the lobby to go out to dinner at 8pm. The two of us must have been more tired than we'd realised, because we got into deep sleeps and only just woke up in time for our rendezvous. We then headed out to find a place where we'd have dinner. Again, this was to be Ian and Eileen's shout to celebrate our anniversary. There are hundreds of restaurants within walking distance, but many of them were already full. Eventually we found a likely looking place, Cafe Central in the restaurant precinct of Rue Cler, and sat down. Nothing happened, and it took a good half-hour before we managed to get a waiter to take our food and drink orders.
There was then another very long wait before the charcuterie board, which we'd agreed to share, arrived. The various meats were uninteresting and totally flavourless. After that, there was a further very long wait, with us giving the waiters a couple of hurry-ups, before the main courses eventually arrived. And they definitely weren't worth waiting for. Eileen's meal was cold. Clearly, they'd prepared it well before they'd brought it out to us. Ian and Mary had ordered ravioli, but what arrived was something quite unlike anything we'd ever encountered before. Lumps of what we assumed to be plain pasta were buried in a bowl of some sort of white flavourless sauce, and on top of it all sat a tiny piece of anonymous and flavourless meat about the size of a business card. Brian's chicken dish was at least edible though very unexciting. He was the only one who managed to finish his food.
We have known Ian for many years, and he is a very calm person. By then we'd been waiting so long that the restaurant was almost empty, so we were able finally to attract the waiter's attention. Ian demanded he get the manager, who arrived a few moments later. Eileen insists that in all the time she's been married to him she has never seen Ian so angry, but he and Brian let the manager have it with both barrels, telling him that it was a special occasion for us, that the food was awful and the service was atrocious. Anyway, the manager quickly agreed to do the right thing and waived the whole bill. It's probably just as well, as Brian was prepared to write the most scathing review that he possibly could and post it on TripAdvisor. That at least got them off the hook. The only benefit was that we didn't have to pay for the two beers and two carafes of rose - some small compensation.
By this time, it was about 11.30pm and most of the restaurants were closing. However, we found one which served us nice desserts and coffee, so the evening wasn't a total disaster, even if it came close to being one.Leia mais
Never a dull day in Paris?
18 de setembro de 2017, França
⛅ 14 °C
With the loss of Brian's drivers licence, we would no longer be able to hire a car to explore Carcassonne and the surrounding district, which caused some disruption to our plans. Plan B is for us to travel by train from Toulouse, where we were to have collected our rental car, to Carcassonne. We also needed to organise train travel later from Carcassonne to St Exupéry airport in Lyon so we could catch our flight home. Brian spent over two frustrating hours on the iPad trying to make online bookings, but nothing was working. In the end, he gave up.
We then went for a bit of a wander round our immediate area then strolled across the beautiful Pont Alexandre III and on towards the Place de la République. Unfortunately, it was still filled with a lot of temporary structures from the previous day's concert, so it wasn't looking its best. We knew that we'd be seeing again (and again) in the next four days before we leave Paris, and by then the place will be looking attractive again.
We were very much looking forward to catching up with our old friends Ian and Eileen who were coming over to Paris from Harrogate to join us, so we decided to head to Gare du Nord and meet them there. It was a dual-purpose visit, as Brian decided that the only way that he could complete his purchase of rail tickets was to get them in person at a station. That part of the mission was more or less easily achieved, though it turned out that our friends' arrival time was a couple of hours than what we'd understood it to be, so we decided to wait for them back at our hotel instead.
Not much excitement so far, but that was about to change. Just one Metro stop before our own, we suddenly heard a lot of shouting and saw people sprinting along the platform. Just outside the window of our stationary train, one man leapt onto another one, who was running as fast as he could, and tackled him to the ground in true rugby style. Several others then helped to sit on the fugitive. Our train was stopped at the platform for a good 20-25 minutes while we got a grandstand view of it all. It took a few minutes for the gendarmes to arrive, but when they did, they were swarming all over the place. We assumed that the fugitive was probably a bag-snatcher, and a couple of good Samaritans had made sure that he didn't get away with it. The police were less than gentle with him, which Brian was pleased to see with his stolen wallet fresh in his mind. Unfortunately one of the pursuers appeared to have broken his arm in the scuffle, but at least justice was done and we saw some excitement.
Late afternoon, Ian and Eileen arrived at our hotel, where they'll be staying for three nights. We first met them at Fibremakers in Melbourne, where we and they were on secondment from New Zealand and the UK respectively. We had young families at the time, and found that we had a lot in common. Since then, we've visited one another on a few occasions, the last time being about nine years ago. It was really great to meet up again like this. We had a thoroughly enjoyable meal at a nearby restaurant while we excitedly caught up with one another's news. A day which started slowly finished really well.Leia mais
ViajanteWhat a nuisance. When do you think the drivers licence disappeared? When did you last see it?
SpydahBob, my wallet was stolen at Lyon station when we were heading to Lyon to join the cruise. I realised almost straight away, and cancelled our credit cards. Luckily Mary is carrying a separate card, so we're not stuck. However Avis won't let us have the car without my original Australian licence. That's despite the fact that I have an international licence and a photocopy of my Australian one. Our agent checked, and the other hire car companies are the same.
Our neighbours turn on another surprise
17 de setembro de 2017, França
⛅ 13 °C
The weather when we'd arrived in Paris the previous afternoon had been less than brilliant. It was overcast, and when we went out for dinner, we were quite cold. We expected this, our first full day, to be much the same, in which case we were all set to undertake indoor activities such as visiting museums. However when we set off for breakfast we could see that it was partly cloudy and really quite pleasant - a perfect day for walking.
Where to start? The hotel is a bare 100 metres from Les Invalides, so that seemed like a fairly logical place. Off we set, and it was great. At that time it was too early for the tourist hordes, though that soon changed as the day progressed. Being a Sunday, traffic at that time was really light too. The previous day's rain had cleaned the air, and the morning light made it great for photos. Brian took many in and around Les Invalides.
In September 2014, when we'd stayed previously at Hôtel de la Tour Maubourg, we'd been woken up on the Sunday morning by a lot of commotion. It had turned out that they were celebrating the centenary of a major event in French history, the First Battle of Marne. On that occasion the French government had commandeered all of the Paris taxis, somewhere between 250 and 500 of them, to transport the French troops to the front, from where the invading German army was forced to retreat. We were witness to the commemoration and partial re-enactment of that event.
This time round, we wandered in to the precinct, taking in the wonderful views and impressive buildings. Outside the beautiful chapel at Les Invalides, which contains Napoleon's tomb, a crowd of very formally dressed people was gathering. Those greeting the guests at the entrance were in spectacularly fancy dress uniforms in various designs, with so much by way of medals, gold braid and giant epaulettes that we almost had to put our sunglasses on. They looked like characters from a historical drama. Clearly, they were getting ready for some sort of commemorative church service, and any casually dressed visiting Australians with cameras around their necks weren't going to be encouraged. Most of the guests were dressed very formally, and many of them looked like long-retired military officers. A large number were in wheelchairs and could well have been WWII veterans. We weren't able to find out the reason for the commemoration, but clearly it was a pretty big event, even if it wasn't quite on the scale of the 2014 Marne celebration.
From there we decided to head in the direction of the Eiffel Tower, about a 20 minute walk. As we'd expected it was pretty crowded there, in the Jardins de Mars, but we still enjoyed wandering round and taking in the sunshine and scenery. Having already been there, done that and got the T-shirt, we had no wish to climb the tower. It was just as well because the crowds were huge. As we'd observed previously, there are large numbers of street vendors all round the precinct, all trying to sell replicas of the Eiffel Tower and other tacky souvenirs. No matter how hard one tries, they're hard to ignore. We then wandered across to Place du Trocadéro which is just across the river. Again, Brian took many photos. From there it was a nostalgic walk up to the Arc de Triomphe and down the famous Champs Élysées.
All the way down there, we could hear really loud doof-doof music but couldn't tell initially where it was coming from. As we got closer to the Place de la Républic we could see that a large area had been closed off to traffic and that there was some sort of free concert going on. It at least provided us with the opportunity to get photos, particularly of the adjacent Grand and Petit palaces, without any traffic to block the views. One thing we did notice was the massive police presence and the large number of barricades which had been set up. Sadly, France is having to take its security very seriously.
We then decided to utilise our Paris transport passes and go by Metro to the Left Bank area. Easier said than done. We got to La Motte-Picquet easily enough but then, when we wanted to change to a different line for the rest of the trip, we were told that the short section of the line that we had wanted to travel on was closed for the weekend to allow maintenance work. Special buses would be covering that section, but when we got to street level we saw some really black thunder clouds hovering overhead and decided to head back to base instead. Even that became complicated when another section of line was closed due to a suspicious parcel having been seen. These minor setbacks are part and parcel of travelling, so don't bother us too much. It was still a most enjoyable day and a good opportunity to get back into the atmosphere of Paris, Mary's favourite city.
After the less than inspiring dinner of the previous night, we decided to go a bit more upmarket. Brian had seen reports on line which gave a restaurant which was a 15-minute walk from us very high ratings. That was a good enough reason for us to give Cafe Constant a try. We got there around 8.45pm only to find a long queue out to the street of people waiting to get a table. This must be good so, despite Mary's misgivings, Brian decided we'd join the queue. We had to wait a good half-hour for a table, but it was worth it. The food was very good though nowhere near the standard we'd been enjoying over the previous week. Brian was pretty happy, though. He had a delicious duck and potato pie, and given that he'd pigged out on a raspberry tartlet, made with fresh berries, for his afternoon tea, he'd once again partaken of his two favourite foods. The restaurant didn't feel too touristy even though we heard every language other than French being spoken by the patrons.Leia mais
Paris, here we come
16 de setembro de 2017, França
⛅ 14 °C
8.30am and two taxis, one with a trailer, arrived to take all of us plus luggage on the half-hour drive to the station at Nîmes. From there, people were catching trains to various destinations. We, together with the lovely elderly French couple, Roger and Françoise, were on the 1055 train to Paris. The waiting time went very quickly, and it was handy to have them there to help us interpret the minimal signage and garbled French PA system announcements at the station. We spent much of the time, as we had during the cruise, with them helping Brian expand his limited French vocabulary while we in turn helped them with their basic English.
French trains are fast, clean and comfortable, but as we had discovered already at Gare Part Dieu in Lyon, getting on the train and finding ones reserved seats is not always easy. For a start, the signage telling people where to stand on the platform to be alongside their carriage was hopelessly wrong, so when the train pulled in to the platform we all had to sprint about 50m with our luggage. This wouldn't matter, were it not for the fact that the train is there for literally only two minutes before it heads off again. We felt sorry for anyone travelling with a lot of luggage and small children. Our troubles weren't over yet. As we entered our carriage, the way was blocked by two people in wheelchairs. This wasn't their fault as there was no other space for them.
HEALTH WARNING: Politically incorrect statements ahead!! What it meant was that we had to try and squeeze past them while carrying our own heavy luggage above our heads. This wasn't easy, but we felt that the disabled people wouldn't be keen on adding decapitation to their list of medical issues. At risk of sounding even more politically incorrect, we concluded that they were returning from Lourdes, in which case they should seek a refund. Trains should only require wheelchair spaces for the outbound journey.
We reached Paris on time after a very quiet and comfortable three-hour high speed train journey and then set about trying to navigate ourselves plus luggage from Gare Lyon to our hotel at La Tour Maubourg. Many of the Metro stations now have escalators, but there are still a few which required us to lug suitcases up and down flights of steps. We were certainly happy to see our hotel, the one we'd stayed at in 2014. Little has changed, and our room was every bit as comfortable as the other one was before. We scored an attic room this time, unfortunately without a view, but the room itself was great.
Paris is a romantic city, so what was the first thing we did? Went to the laundromat and washed a week's worth of accumulated laundry. Admittedly, we did go and indulge ourselves at a nearby patisserie while the clothes were washing.
Later, we came down to earth with a bit of a thud. There are many dozens of restaurants, all within easy walking distance of our hotel, but we decided that we'd go for something cheap and light. After all, we'd eaten and drunk especially well over the previous week, and it wouldn't do us any harm to ease off a bit - and save a bit of money. However, the one we chose was very ordinary indeed. We knew that we wouldn't be going back there in a hurry.Leia mais
Brian takes a ride
15 de setembro de 2017, França
☁️ 17 °C
By now, we had settled in to a very pleasant routine of a leisurely buffet breakfast at 8am followed by our departure on a morning tour an hour later. We faced the reality however that this was our last full day on Le Phenician before we left the cruise and went our separate ways. The Camargue region, close to the Rhône delta is unique, quite unlike any other French region. It is flat, low-lying land, quite wild, and with large open areas rather than the neat and tidy landscape one sees in most other areas of France. Bull-fighting is practised widely in the region. Most of it is in the traditional Camargue style where multiple ribbons are tied to the horrifyingly sharp horns of the bull, and a small handheld comb-like device is then used by the competitors to pick the small ribbons off the angry bull. Whoever gets the most ribbons is the winner. Generally this takes place in an arena where there are ten men and one bull, but a variant of this is where the bulls are individually allowed to run loose in the streets and competitors try to snare the ribbons. It's a very dangerous sport with many injuries, but the good news is that the bulls do not get injured. It seems that prize bulls are as revered there as prize racehorses are in Australia. We'd loved to have seen such an event, but time did not allow. One should add that some traditional bull-fights also take place in the Camargue, and those particular bulls do get killed. That, we would not want to see.
Anyway we set off to visit an authentic bull-breeding ranch run by a prominent local family. We drove for an hour, and when we arrived, four members of the family, dressed in their traditional costumes and mounted on their traditional white horses, were there to greet us. We then climbed aboard a flat-bed cart pulled by a tractor and they took us to one of the fields, where were about 50-60 of the black bulls. Until we got to the ranch we hadn't realised that there had been a change in the weather, and it had become windy and absolutely freezing!!. What we saw was certainly interesting, but we were all shivering on the open cart. They rounded up the bulls and brought them close to the cart so that we could get a good look at them. Each bull is individually named, and they are regarded just as one would regard racehorses at an Australian breeding stud. The horns on these bulls are huge and sharp, and they point forward, where they can inflict the most damage. The animals weigh up to 800kg, not small.
Thankfully, we were then brought in out of the cold to their display area and shop, where we were able to see, on continuous loop, some absolutely scary videos of bullfights. We had some traditional snacks including terrine, anchovies and tapenade, all accompanied by wine. After that, it was back to the boat, which was getting ready to sail to our final destination of Aigues-Mortes. The previous night, we were given two choices. We could travel on the boat, enjoy one of Thierry's wonderful lunches then arrive at our destination feeling relaxed and comfortable. Then there was the crazy option where one could take a packed lunch which Thierry would prepare, and ride a bike for the 14km alongside the canal to our destination. In preparation for this eventuality, the two of us had hired bikes in Brisbane a few months earlier for a couple of hours, just to make sure that we could still handle them OK. Mary had decided that bike-riding wasn't for her, while Brian had become marginally less wobbly as he got back into practice.
Bravely/foolishly Brian decided that he would do the roughly hour-long ride to Aigues-Mortes, along with Greg and Steve, two of our fellow-passengers both of whom are experienced riders. All the others took the boat option. Of course, once one commits to riding the bike, there is literally no turning back. The boat will have sailed, so it's a matter of going the full distance on two wheels. To cut a long story short, the bike ride went very well, Brian didn't fall off and we reached our destination an hour ahead of the boat. We were fortunate that the wind had died down, it was a very smooth path and there were no hills. In fact it was a very pleasant trip and Brian was well pleased with himself.
Once the boat arrived and we were reunited the two of us set off to explore this 13th century walled town. We started by buying tickets and setting off for a walk along the top of the wall, a distance of about 1.6km. It was quite interesting, though we wouldn't describe it as compelling. We then went for a wander through the streets of the old town, quite attractive with many shops and restaurants and quite a few tourists. It was fairly interesting, though we'd decided by then that our favourite places on this trip were Avignon and Les Baux-de-Provence.
Our final dinner on board was a big affair, with champagne and with foie gras served two different ways as the starter. The main course of fillet of lamb served rare was magnificent, and Thierry's dessert of raspberry and peach gateau with sparklers as decoration was pretty special too. The staff, who had been magnificent during the trip, joined us for champagne toasts and dessert - all accompanied by many thank you speeches, hugs and handshakes. We were all sad that the trip was coming to an end.
For the record, and for happy memories, these were Thierry's wonderful lunches:
Sunday
Rosace de tomates bicolores, gelée et tartare
Médaillon de veau, sauce à la moutarde violette
Purée de patate douce et petits légumes
Cheeses: Reblochon, St Marcellin
Fraises en sabayon
Monday
Petits farcis, tuiles de parmesan
Dos de loup en croute de poivrons
Riz et poireaux, sauce vierge
Cheeses: Petit basque, Livarot
soupe d’agrumes, granité de mandarine
Tuesday
Duo de saumon en pannequet, betterave et pomme
Magret de canard, parfum de figues
Ravioles de céleri et fèves
Cheese: Croustillant de chêvre
Déclinaison de chocolat
Wednesday
Asperges blanche et vertes, velouté, panées
Coussin de daurade, sauce curcuma
Fenouil braisé et palet de pdt
Cheeses: Pont l’evêque, Tome de savoie
And here are the dinners:
Sunday
Eggplant terrine, tomato and pesto
Goat cheese, tapenade and tomato tart
Green bean, white onion and chorizo salad
Italian salad
porc « pluma », veggies
Brillat savarin
Coffee mousse «dacquoise »
Monday:
Smoked and tartare salmon roll
Grilled veggies
Snowpeas, carrots, marinated peppers, smoked duck breast
Bacon and leek tart
Grilled lamb, spicy grains
Cheese: St Nectaire
Raspberries tiramisu
Tuesday:
Avocado and grapefruit
Crabs, garlic, pepper, lime samoussa
Prawns, coconuts orange and peanuts salad
Cod fritters (accras)
Spicy chicken breast, nuddles
Fresh cheese
Rhubarb tart
Wednesday:
“Pissaladière”
Cauliflower greek style
Eggplant “caviar”
Quinoa taboulet
Monkfish, veggies
Cheese: Bûche de Valançay
Exotic fruits salad
Thursday:
Crespeou
Cod brandade and spinach “feuilleté”
Gaspacho
Feta salad
Braised beef cheek, potatoes gratin
Cheese: St Marcellin
Chestnut cakeLeia mais
A cultural tour
14 de setembro de 2017, França
⛅ 23 °C
At the very leisurely time of 9am we were collected by our guide, who was to give us a tour of his home city of Arles. It soon became obvious that the two of us had barely scratched the surface during our self-conducted tour the previous day. Patrick is an artist, Kansas-born, but resident in several European countries during the course of his life. Much of his tour was given over to Vincent van Gogh, who had lived in Arles for just over a year and had created many paintings there during the period. Patrick was able to take us to several of the exact spots where van Gogh had set up his easel, and to show us prints of the preliminary sketches and the final paintings that the artist had created. In most instances the buildings had little changed since that time, which made it very interesting. He was also very knowledgeable about architecture, so was able to point out interesting design features of many of the buildings. Altogether, a very interesting and enjoyable tour, though somewhat different from what we had been expecting. We then had a bit of free time before sailing time, but once again it wasn't quite enough to allow us a leisurely wander inside the amphitheatre..
We then headed off four a leisurely four-hour cruise, some of it taken up with our usual four-course lunch, towards the small village of Gallician, where we were due to moor overnight. Leaving Arles, we took the fork in the river which put us on to the Petit Rhone, the smaller and less populated branch of the river. We reached Gallician late in the afternoon. Four of us then decided to take a short walk to the village, but quickly decided that it wasn't all that interesting for exploration. We then walked along the river path to a distant bridge, crossed over and walked back along the opposite bank. All told, we covered the 7km loop at a vigorous pace, so were able to feel virtuous when downing our pre-dinner drinks followed by the usual high standard dinner and wine.Leia mais
We see more of the Rhône
13 de setembro de 2017, França
☁️ 25 °C
By French standards it was an early start, with our buffet breakfast at 8am and on the bus at 9 o'clock. We were heading to Les Baux-de-Provence, a very picturesque medieval village about 40 minutes' drive away at a fortified rocky site between Arles and St Remy-de-Provence. There is the ancient village, the extensive fortified-chateau area and the magnificent setting and views. The rocky limestone landscape is quite different from anything we've ever seen before, and the village itself is built on a high point overlooking a large area of the surrounding countryside. Fortunately, we arrived quite early and the guide gave us a good tour of the village while things were quiet.
About an hour later, the hordes started arriving in their bus-loads, but we'd largely seen what we wanted to. The place contains many shops and restaurants, but what they were selling was more touristy than authentic. Nevertheless it was an interesting and worthwhile visit. One certainly wouldn't want to be there at the height of the tourist season. Apparently it is absolute chaos then.
Around midday we set off on what was our longest boat trip so far, about 4.5 hours downstream, to the town of Arles. It was a pleasant ride, the weather was warm and after lunch we were able to sit out on the deck and observe the great variety of commercial and tourist river traffic. Barges can be up to a massive 190m long, and we saw some which would be close to that limit. A highlight was when we went through the Beaucaire lock, where we dropped a full 17m. Quite an experience. Eventually, we reached the historic city (which city in this area isn't??) of Arles, otherwise known as the open-air museum of Provence. Being in a more enlightened place than Queensland, we were able to enjoy the benefit of daylight saving and take a leisurely walk through the old city. We were particularly taken with the Roman amphitheatre, which seems to be used as a modern-day stadium. We'd have liked to have taken a look inside but simply ran out of time. Like all of the historic cities and towns in France, the place is full of tourists - and tourist traps - but we serious travellers were still able to take in much of its beauty.
It was then back to the boat for the routine we've become accustomed to; pre-dinner drinks, a very tasty gourmet four-course meal with unlimited drinks, all followed by much merriment and talk until around 1130pm.Leia mais
The famous bridge which isn't
12 de setembro de 2017, França
⛅ 21 °C
The much photographed bridge close to Avignon, the Pont du Gard was built as a Roman aqueduct some 2000 years ago. True, a bridge was incorporated into the original structure as recently as the 18th century, but it is now closed off to all but pedestrian traffic. After breakfast we headed off in the minibus for the 30 minute drive to Pont du Gard, all of it through picturesque grape-growing countryside.
Even though we sort of knew what to expect, ones first glimpse of the famous viaduct is really quite something. The whole area is now a UNESCO site, so is preserved and protected. We started at the very modern museum and interpretation centre, which has been beautifully set up, and where our guide explained the history and engineering behind the aqueduct. The statistics are quite staggering. The aqueduct is the only remaining one of 17, which formed part of a system to deliver up to 30000 cubic metres of water per day 50km over mountainous terrain from a natural spring at Uzès to Nîmes. After spending an interesting time in the interpretation centre we headed off to the viaduct itself. At the very top of the structure there is the water-pipe itself, constructed from stone and fully enclosed. We were able to walk through from one end to the other. Everywhere one looks there are spectacular views of the aqueduct and its surroundings. A wonderful experience all round.
We then headed back to the boat, where we cruised to our next stop while enjoying another beautiful lunch accompanied by a very nice local rose. What a life. We ruised for about 90 minutes and moored at the small historic village of Alamon. Bikes were available, but Brian decided to walk with a couple of others to the village, about ten minutes away. It turned out to be a bit of a disappointment, historic but not all that interesting. Others who went to the village a couple of hours later reported that they'd found it to be quite lively, so maybe we were simply there too early.
By then, the eight of us had got into a very nice pattern of pre-dinner drinks at around 7pm (one can start earlier if one wishes), our gourmet four-course dinner at 8pm followed by lively discussion until people star drifting off to bed from around 10pm. It's a tough life.Leia mais
Paradise
11 de setembro de 2017, França
☀️ 22 °C
Our first full day on the boat, and it was brilliant. Everyone was so friendly, and the staff couldn't do enough for us. After a leisurely buffet breakfast, we headed by foot into the old town and to the Palais des Papes, the Popes' Palace. This massive complex dominates the town and is a huge touristdrawcard.
As Wikipedia tells us, it is one of the largest and most important medieval Gothic buildings in Europe. Once a fortress and palace, the papal residence was the seat of Western Christianity during the 14th century. Six papal conclaves were held in the Palais, leading to the elections of Benedict XII in 1334, Clement VI in 1342, Innocent VI in 1352, Urban V in 1362, Gregory XI in 1370 and Antipope Benedict XIII in 1394. The Palais is actually two joined buildings: the old palais of Benedict XII, which sits on the impregnable rock of Doms, and the new palais of Clement VI, the most extravagant of the Avignon popes. Together they form the largest Gothic building of the Middle Ages, it is also one of the best examples of the International Gothic architectural style.
We then had some free time, so visited the nearby Place de l'Horloge, also very picturesque, but rather too touristy for our tastes. Our guide had told us that Avignon is the third most visited place in France, after Mont St Michel and the Eiffel Tower. We were surprised, as we expected the Louvre and Versailles to be above it on the list, but either way, it's very popular.
Wandering back in the direction of the boat, we passed the famous Pont d'Avignon. We'd like to have climbed up there and taken photos - for an entry fee - but were a bit pressed for time by then, so gave it a miss. We then set off on a very short 'cruise' to Villeneuve les Avignon. All the meals are major affairs of about four courses, with all the wines and other drinks that one could possibly wish for. We knew that we'd need to pace ourselves or we'd become 15 stone alcoholics. We got to taste the local foods, wines and cheeses of each area which we visit.
After lunch, we were picked up and taken on a 30-minute drive to the renowned wine region of Chateauneuf du Pape. We started at the ruined tower which overlooks the town, providing plenty of highly photogenic views. The air was very clear, giving us a great view of the only mountain in the region, the famous Mont Ventoux, aka 'The Beast of Provence.' Plenty of good photos, we're hoping.
We got back to the boat at around 5pm and decided to take a walk to the nearby town of Avignon Villeneuve, the so-called new town. By our standards it is anything but new and is very picturesque.
Once again we were treated to a great four-course meal with unlimited local wines and any other drinks included. Brilliant.Leia mais
Sounds very nice. Enjoy the food and wine. It's time you both indulged. Might need elasticised pants for the flight home haha xx Childe II
Good news, bad news, good news
10 de setembro de 2017, França
🌙 18 °C
We started our last day in the fabulous city of Lyon with nothing planned. Heading out for breakfast we found that the rain had disappeared and that it was a fine Sunday morning. The locals were obviously sleeping in, and there was little activity on the streets, which made it even better.
After checking out of our excellent hotel, and leaving our bags in their storage room, we headed off towards the old town, a ten minute walk away. We'd only got as far as he nearer river bank when we came across the Sunday market. Clearly, this is where the Lyonnais go for their food shopping. Extending over a good couple of hundred metres alongside the river, the stalls were packed with the most delicious and tempting food - raw meat, cooked meat, cheeses, fish, olives, pates, fruit and vegetables - everything you could think of. We succumbed to a minor extent. Mary can sniff out good grapes from a mile away, and Brian likewise with fresh raspberries, so we were in seventh heaven. There was so much more that we could have got, but we resisted the temptation.
We then spent the next hour or so just sitting in the warm sun and watching the locals go by, after which we wandered the couple of hundred metres or so to the old city. It was lunchtime, and just like on the previous two evenings, all the restaurants were absolutely packed, both the inside tables and those out on the street. We couldn't believe how big the restaurant scene is in this city of fabulous food.
Eventually, the time arrived for us to grab our bags and catch a taxi to Gare Part Dieu, the railway station. We were heading for our next stop, Avignon, prior to joining our river cruise. The signage at the station took us a while to understand, but eventually we cracked the code and found our way through dense crowds to the right platform. We boarded our train, heading for Marseilles, and ten minutes or so later, that's when disaster struck, We headed for the buffet car to get ourselves some coffee, when Brian realised his wallet was missing. No doubt about it, it had gone, Somewhere in the crowd, his pocket had been picked.
We then spent the next few minutes cancelling our credit cards, though sadly the 70 or so euros were a write-off. Fortunately, the two of us have separate credit cards, and we still had our passports so all was not lost. It was however a major inconvenience, but we were confident that Brian's international drivers licence, which we still had, would be sufficient later for the rental car company.
We disembarked at Avignon after what should have been a very relaxing train trip, and waited for our driver as instructed at the station's meeting point. No sign of anyone, We noticed another couple there, French, who we discovered were booked on the same cruise and were waiting also. Eventually, after a good 40 minutes, the driver found us. Unbeknown to us, it seems that there are two such meeting points in the station. How confusing.
After a 15-minute drive we reached our boat, moored in the river very close to the Palais des Papes in the middle of town. The Phenicien, a converted barge, is very spacious. The dining/lounge area is massive, and with us being such a small group we felt a little lost. The boat holds 18 passengers, though there were only ten of us on board. Very luxurious. Eight were Australians and there was the French couple whom we'd met at the station. We feel a little sorry for them, as they had only basic English, so were struggling a bit to keep up with the conversations. Brian, meanwhile, was a bit disappointed that there would be less chance for him to improve his French. All that said, they proved to be a very good crowd of interesting people who had already done a lot of travelling.
As promised in the brochure, the food and wine flowed freely. The boat has an open bar, including top-shelf drinks if we wanted them. Dinner was certainly magnificent, and it was clear from the outset that we were going to be very well looked after. We learnt that each day we'd be introduced to food, wine and cheeses from the regions we were visiting at the time. It sounded brilliant, and we soon found out that it was every bit as good as we'd been promised.Leia mais
Oh no!!! Do you need me to contact anyone re wallet? Qld transport re licence?? That's such an absolute bugger!! Childe II
A change in the weather
9 de setembro de 2017, França
⛅ 17 °C
As mentioned already, we were really impressed with our hotel, and even though it's on a busy road, the double-glazed windows meant that we couldn't hear a thing. We set off as usual for our petit dejeuner of jus d'orange, croissants and café. The moment we stepped outside, we saw that there had been a change in the weather, with the calm warm night giving way to a chilly and very wet morning. Not that we were complaining, as the weather up to this point had been anything but wet, and certainly on the hot side. we dashed inside for our warm clothes and borrowed one of the hotel's courtesy umbrellas. The weather wasn't going to stop us, but it could cause us to modify our plans.
Breakfast over, we headed once more over the Bonaparte Bridge to the old city. Much to our surprise, a whole big area from the end of the bridge and throughout the St Jean square had been transformed overnight into a market for pottery. Hundreds, and it must have been at least a couple of hundred, potters had set up their stalls and were selling a great variety of handmade pieces in all sorts of styles. Most of it was in absolutely beautiful taste, and if we'd been in the market for tasteful ornaments, and had the money, we could have picked up the odd shipping container or two of beautifully-designed original items. We felt quite sorry for the stall-holders though, as their sunshade umbrellas were of little help in keeping them warm and dry.
After a bit of a browse around we then caught the cable car, a different one from the previous day's, up to the old Roman ruins. Our rides weren't totally incident-free. At one of the stations, the automatic card reader refused to recognise Brian's day pass ticket, and at another, Mary's ticket wouldn't function. No big deal under normal circumstances, but what do you do when everything is automated and the station is totally unmanned? (Confession: Brian's problem was his own silly fault for being smart, because he was demonstrating to Mary how to use the automatic turnstile, so went back out of the station and tried to get back in. The system realised that he had already passed through and wasn't going to let him go through a second time). With the help of a couple of helpful but amused locals we found out eventually how to beat the system and were able to continue on our way.
Having sorted things out and then explored the Roman ruins located high above the city. The rain had lightened off by then, which was good. We decided though that we should go to Plan B and make this largely a museum day, so we took ourselves off to the Gadagne Museum, which is nearby in the old town. The extensive main display is a history of Lyon from the 1st century BC, when it was known as Lugdunum, through to the present day. It was interesting, though hard to take everything in in one go. The museum is located in what was once a historic home, spread over four levels and with a maze of rooms. We found ourselves up and down numerous stairs and in and out of many doorways, but it was all very interesting.
The museum was showing a temporary exhibition, also quite extensive, on the history of puppets and puppetry. It too contained a lot of interesting exhibits, mainly antique marionettes from various periods of history.
After a largish lunch, neither of us was especially hungry, but we thought we'd head out anyway towards the old town where we could enjoy another beautiful dinner. It takes a while to get the hang of the geography, but we finally realised that it was an even shorter walk to the restaurant area than we'd realised. The only problem was that the rain had returned, which meant that nobody was wanting to sit outside and therefore there were far fewer tables available. Even before we reached the old town, we stumbled across a maze of old streets filled with restaurants on our side of the river. Very impressive, but at that time, round 8.30pm, there were no spare (dry) tables to be had. In the end, we decided to head back to our hotel and to fill up with a big breakfast the next morning instead.Leia mais
We discover Lyon
8 de setembro de 2017, França
🌙 19 °C
Our only previous experience of Lyon was many years ago when we dropped a rental car off at St Exupery and flew back to Brisbane. More recently, several people had told us that it's a beautiful city with spectacularly good food and wine. What's not to like about that?
Waking up and taking in our surroundings, we realised that we had chosen well with our hotel, the Novotel Beaux Artes. It's in an old building, but the interior has been tastefully renovated in a very modern style. Our room was quite spacious, especially by European hotel standards. It is only 50 metres from the impressive square known as the Place des Jacobins. (We soon discovered that Lyon has a number of impressive squares, of which this is but one). Prepared for a day of exploring, we found our way to the tourist office, which proved to be very helpful and which supplied us with a map of the city and its recommended attractions. Even with a map it took us a little while to get our bearings. There are two rivers, the Rhone and Saone, which meet at Lyon, and the roads certainly aren't laid out in a grid pattern. For example, at Place des Jacobins, there are seven streets all coming off the square at various angles. Navigation, at least initially, was quite a challenge.
Eventually we sorted ourselves out and were able to take in the beautiful scenery and architecture of Lyon. We discovered that our hotel is in the middle of a very upmarket shopping area, with Pucci, Gucci, Louis Vuitton and every other prestige brand one may or may not have heard of all within walking distance. Not that they would ever benefit from us being there.
We first walked over the Bonaparte Bridge, bought two-day public transport passes then caught the funicular railway (cable car, in Wellington-speak) up the very steep hill to the Basilisque Notre-Dame de Fourviere, the massive cathedral which overlooks the city. We spent quite a bit of time in the cathedral and its precincts then took a leisurely walk down the hill to the city. We were certainly pleased that we hadn't pushed ourselves into walking up the hill, though many people did. At the bottom of the hill, we visited Lyon Vieux, the old town with its narrow cobblestone streets, and the nearby Cathedrale St Jean - also very impressive. Wherever one looks there are great things to view and to photograph.
By then, we'd done quite a bit of walking, so after savouring some excellent local ice-cream we decided to rest up at our hotel for a couple of hours before setting off to forage for dinner. There weren't all that many restaurants in our immediate area and given the tone of the other shops, we thought the prices would be so high that we'd need a bank loan to get a bowl of soup. We decided therefore to head towards the the old town, where we'd noticed a number of restaurants in the narrow winding streets. It was around 9pm, and getting there after the 15-minute walk we got quite a surprise. There were just so many restaurants, side by side by side, with tables spilling out on to the footpaths and roads. And all of them were absolutely jam-packed. The place was like Park Road, Milton, or Wellington's Courtney Place, times fifty. Eventually, we picked out a place from the many which had tempted us, and had a really great dinner. The city's bridges and major buildings are all lit up at night, and it really is a beautiful place. We'd known very little about the city beforehand, but were certainly very impressed by the place.Leia mais
Goodbye Israel, Hello France
8 de setembro de 2017, França
☀️ 20 °C
... or how to (nearly) miss a plane. With a late flight out, our final day in Israel was a nice leisurely one. Gil and Mira had organised for us to go to a show called the Jerusalem Time Elevator which describes Jerusalem's history (in a 60s Hollywood-style way), using impressive surround screens and with the seats mounted on a platform which moves and shakes in unison with the film. Interesting in its own way, though we felt we'd got far more out of the two guided tours which we'd done a few days earlier.
Gil then took us for a scenic drive around some parts of the city which we hadn't really seen before, and that was great. Until we first came here, we hadn't realised just how hilly the place is, but it's built on what is really rugged terrain. We then grabbed some lunch and headed back to their place for our least favourite job, packing.
Gil and Mira got us to the airport nice and early, and we said our fond goodbyes. Hopefully we'll see them again sometime soon, maybe in Brisbane. Even after we'd waited in long queues and been through security checks (though not as rigorous as the one which a swarthy-skinned young man standing near us had to endure). The girl at check-in told us that we'd be at Departure Gate C2, and even though it was already printed on the ticket, she kindly circled the number for us. Maybe she thought that we were old and doddery. Reaching the departure hall, we double-checked the departure gate on the screen then headed for C2. It was fairly quiet there, with only about 40-50 people waiting, so we thought that for once we'd be on a nice empty flight for the nearly five hour trip to Lyon, our next port of call.
As the boarding time drew near with no announcements being made, Brian decided to wander up to the desk, only to find that the screen there was showing an entirely different flight number, which was going to Zagreb, Nobody was behind the counter, so we approached an airport employee who had been working there at the departure counter but who now appeared to be on a break nearby. He immediately told us that the flight had been moved to Gate B1, some distance away, so off we ran in a bit of a panic. Reaching there, we discovered that that gate was handling an entirely different flight to some other destination. We don't know whether the man who'd given us the wrong information was stupid or had misinformed us deliberately. Furthermore, none of the display screen seemed to be listing our flight.
By this stage, it was close to the scheduled departure time and we were seriously worried that maybe, somehow, we'd completely missed our flight. Eventually, we found a screen listing our flight as departing from Gate C3, right next to where we'd been waiting in the first place. The flight had started to board, but fortunately it was running several minutes late, and we were OK. So how did everyone else know about the change? We certainly hadn't heard anything. We concluded that the announcements had probably been made in Hebrew and French only and, judging by the look of our fellow passengers that would have covered pretty much everyone except us. Anyway, we got on board safely and even though it was a budget airline (Transavia), it was pleasant enough flight. As the Israelis do so many things well, we prefer instead to blame the airline for the display of total incompetence.
We duly landed in Lyon at around 1am, and got quite a surprise at the cool night temperature. After the past couple of weeks the 12 degrees felt quite cold. At 1am, there isn't a lot happening at St Exupery airport. The terminal is deserted, all the workers are tucked up in their beds, the buses and trains aren't running and there's nobody at the Information counter. Our only choice therefore for getting to our hotel was a very expensive taxi ride. Fortunately at least, the driver was very friendly and even allowed Brian to practise his schoolboy French on him. We were certainly very happy to check in to our hotel, unpack and hit the sack.Leia mais
Can't trust those sneaky airline staff ;) maybe you just didn't hear the gate change announcement or as you say, it wasn't in English. xx Childe II
Friends and family
6 de setembro de 2017, Israel
⛅ 25 °C
After the rigours of the previous three days we were please to have a leisurely start to our last full day in Israel. Mira had to spend some time at her former work, so dropped us off just after 9am at the bus stop from where we took the 30 minute trip to Tel Aviv. Brian had arranged to meet two old Wellington friends, now long-term residents of Tel Aviv. Mary Aarons had been a classmate of Brian's at Island Bay Primary School, and the two of them have kept in touch by email over the past few years. We had spent some time with Mary when we were there previously in 2014.
Meanwhile, Brian had known Barbara Schwartz (nee Vamos) for even longer, all his life, in fact. His parents and hers had been members of the Hungarian community in Wellington and close friends, though he and Barbara hadn't seen each other for about 60 years. Last time we were in Tel Aviv, Barbara had in fact been visiting her sister in Wellington, so we hadn't managed to catch up on that occasion. Mary A and Barbara had vaguely known each other through the Jewish community in Wellington, and had met a few times more recently in Tel Aviv. Anyway, the four of us caught up at the Dizengoff Centre and spent several hours talking and generally reminiscing. We could have kept going for many hours more, but unfortunately Barbara had another commitment and had to get away just after midday. The two Marys and Brian then continued talking for a couple of hours more over a pleasant light lunch at the Dizengoff Centre. The three of us then took a leisurely 15-minute wander to the Sarona Centre, where Esther and Yossi live. They'd invited Mary and Brian to come back to their unit. Gil and Mira would drive down from Jerusalem and join us there for dinner.
We bid our fond farewells to Mary Aarons then headed up to Esther and Yossi on the 13th floor. For the first time since we'd arrived in the Middle East the air was clear of heat haze, so we were able to enjoy the terrific view right out to the Mediterranean Sea. The time went very quickly as we chatted about all sorts of things, then around five o'clock we were joined by Gila and Mira. Esther and Yossi are great hosts, and they treated us to a wonderful Hungarian meal of paprika chicken and nokedle (dumplings) along with numerous accompaniments.
We talked for quit a while afterwards then made our sad farewells and drove back to Gil and Mira's at Jerusalem.Leia mais
An easy day
5 de setembro de 2017, Israel
☀️ 28 °C
Heading off from Petra, we drove first to Sam's home town of Madaba an ancient town in Jordan, southwest of Amman. It’s known for its 6th-century mosaic map of the Holy Land in the Greek Orthodox Church of St. George. The Madaba Archaeological Park preserves the mosaic-rich Church of the Virgin Mary and artefacts from the Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine and Islamic eras. Northwest, the biblical hill of Mount Nebo overlooks the Jordan Valley and the Dead Sea. We were right in the heart of biblical history - and biblical beliefs, which we were less excited about. At least half of our fellow travellers on the bus were right into this. We suspect that their main reason for coming to Jordan was less about Petra and more about walking in the footsteps of Jesus, Moses et al. The Madaba Map, which is of genuine historic significance, is part of a floor mosaic in the early Byzantine church of Saint George at Madaba. It is a map of the Middle East. Part of it contains the oldest surviving original cartographic depiction of the Holy Land and especially Jerusalem. It dates to the 6th century AD.
No organised tour is complete without the hard sell of souvenirs and artefacts, and compared with previous trips to India and Turkey, we'd got off very lightly thus far. We're well acquainted with the routine, so weren't surprised when we were then taken to a mosaic factory in the town. It was certainly impressive to watch the painstaking work involved in making a high quality mosaic from minuscule, but precision-shaped pieces of coloured stone. Then, of course, we were led into the adjacent souvenir shop where large numbers of friendly, smiling sales assistants descended upon us. Some of the handicrafts, which included more than just mosaics, were beautiful (and quite pricey), but as we are trying to de-clutter our lives, we had to disappoint our designated shop assistant whose smile then disappeared along, shortly after, with the assistant herself.
From there, we drove to the top of Mount Nebo, significant to religious people who believe that Moses died and was buried there. If one were irreverent (moi??), one might say that it's such a steep climb to the top of the mountain that potentially anyone could die there as a result of the climb. Many tourists go to Mount Nebo as a kind of pilgrimage, and there is a well set up church and display centre where one can view a number of Roman mosaics which have been uncovered in the area. From the top of Mount Nebo, one can see the so-called Promised Land, even if it was somewhat indistinct through the heat haze on the day that we were there.
This was our last stop before we stopped for an excellent buffet lunch and headed back across the border to Israel. Our guide warned us that we shouldn't expect the border crossing to be easy by comparison with the northern crossing which we'd used to enter Jordan. This southern crossing over the The Allenby Bridge known to the Jordanians as the King Hussein Bridge is a bridge which crosses the Jordan River near the city of Jericho, and connects the West Bank with Jordan. It is currently the sole designated exit/entry point for West Bank Palestinians traveling in and out of the region, so for that reason we were forewarned that security was likely to be really tight.
The approach to the border crossing from the Jordan side is less than impressive. We caught a brief glimpse of the wall which separates the West Bank from the rest of the region and then our bus drove into a noisy traffic-clogged shambles of slummy traders, people milling around and huge clouds of dust from passing vehicles. Somehow, our driver managed to bypass the long queues of stopped cars and buses and deposited us at the entrance to a modern-looking building where we completed all the security and immigration checks within a mere half-hour or so. We could hardly believe it. After our experience of entering Jordan and after the warnings from our guide, it all turned out to be quick and easy. As scheduled, our bus dropped us off at the Jerusalem Gate Hotel, after which we caught an Uber for the 15 minute ride back to Gil and Mira's.
It was hard work, but we were really pleased that we had decided to do the Jordan trip.Leia mais
No doubt you're both exhausted after that little side trip. Looks like you're thoroughly enjoying yourselves (despite the brutal heat) xx Childe II
Petra-fied by the heat
4 de setembro de 2017, Jordânia
☀️ 34 °C
When your Jordanian guide, who had been quite nonchalant about the hot conditions on the previous day in Jerash, tells you that they're expecting heatwave conditions at Petra, our destination, then you'd better start worrying. When he adds that the minimum distance one needs to walk in order to see this world-famous tourist attraction is about 8km then you'd better be very concerned.
We set off from Petra - Sam the guide, an American couple, two groups of two American women, a Pom who was slipping in a day of R&R during a business trip, a young Maori chap from the Bay of Islands, a tourist policeman who is evidently required by law to accompany us, our guide Sam - and us. We drove for about four hours, this time through desert landscape rather than the very hilly terrain of the previous day. Unlike the previous day, we were mentally prepared for the heat and were carrying plenty of drinking water. Our guide warned us that the walk to the ancient city would be a nice easy downhill stroll but that the trip back up would be rather more challenging.
Leaving the parking area on foot it certainly seemed to be a nice easy downhill stroll, and it got even better when we reached the narrow fissure in the rocks which runs for a distance of a kilometre or more. There was a refreshing breeze in our faces and the path was mostly in the shade. When one actually catches ones first glimpse of the Treasury through the outline of the fissure and then, a couple of minutes later, gets to view that famous facade, it really is something. It's one thing to view it in books or on TV, but being up close to it in real life is something else again.
A couple of our less hardy fellow travellers decided that they'd turn back at that point and hire a donkey carriage to get them back up the hill. More on that later. The rest of the group, us included, decided to press on. Petra is far more than the Treasury, and most people don't realise how vast it is. In fact it covers over 60 square kilometres and some of the walks can take as long as six to eight hours. We weren't that ambitious, but were certainly keen to see as much as possible. We were feeling reasonably OK, so decided to press on. New scenes open up at every turn, which really adds to the excitement of the place.
After walking another kilometre or so, Mary was starting to flag, so decided to rest in a shady spot while Brian pressed on. The ultimate challenge is to visit the Monastery, which is towards the furthest point of the site and at the top of 800 steps. It was another kilometre or so to the base of the steps, and having reached that point Brian decided, wisely on this occasion, that he would turn back rather than tempt fate by climbing those 800 steep steps in all that heat. So began the return journey, Collecting Mary on the way back, the two of us started the return journey. Apart from ones own two feet, there are several choices of transport covering various sections of the walk. You can ride a camel or donkey, or can climb aboard a carriage pulled by a mule or donkey. In amongst all the souvenir sellers there was certainly no shortage of men trying to sell us the various rides, but we were determined to press on unaided.
It was certainly hot by this stage, and we were flagging. After struggling at Jerash, Mary was a lot better at Petra, and kept going with determination, rather like the Energizer Bunny. It was hard going for both of us, and we were stopping with increasing frequency to regain our breath. The last 500m or so was especially tough, uphill and in full sun, but we made it!! Towards the end, we were dragging one foot after the other, willing ourselves to get to the top and wondering whether we'd been altogether too stubborn in refusing those dozens of offers of rides to the top.
No matter which form of animal transport you choose, they're very cunning with the way they price these rides. You can pay upfront for a return trip, which most people choose not to do, since it's easy to amble down the hill and pause to admire the features and ever-changing view as you go. However, once you're at the bottom and want to head back to base, you find that a one-way journey up the hill costs exactly the same as the return trip which you'd decided against previously.
Fortunately, the bus ride to our hotel was fairly short, only ten minutes or so, and unlike the previous night's hotel, the shower actually worked. Once we'd recovered, we decided to go for a bit of a wander around the neighbourhood, but the area wasn't terribly pedestrian-friendly (not that we were up for too much more walking anyway). We then had some dinner before retiring, dog-tired but very happy.Leia mais
Looks magnificent. Trust Dad to 'push on'. Crazy rabbits! You need to pump yourselves with more water over next few days. Do as you're told! Chat soon xx Childe II
SpydahDon't worry. We've drunk enough liquids to refloat the Titanic. Now back in civilisation in Israel. What a contrast between the two countries! XX
El pet panting as I remember retreating from heat to a cave and getting proposed to by one of the many bedouins loitering/selling wares.
Heat and red tape
3 de setembro de 2017, Jordânia
☀️ 31 °C
We crept out of Gil and Mira's at 7.15 and caught a cab to the Jerusalem Gateway Hotel, the pickup point for our next big adventure - the trip to Jordan. The bus arrived bang on time, and after we'd collected passengers from several other hotels the bus headed off towards the Jordan River Border Crossing. What happened next was nothing if not amusing. Our first stop was an Israeli checkpoint which, we later discovered, was a good 5km before the border. We can't remember the exact sequence, but know that we had to go through at least four other checkpoints, most of which involved us in getting off the bus we were on, claiming our baggage and transferring to a different bus. All told, we reckon we were on and off four different buses, though one of our fellow passengers was certain it was at least five.
On one of these occasions the driver demanded payment of five Jordanian dinars from each of us, gave us official-looking receipts and drove us, literally, no more than 200 metres. We lost count of the numbeer of times we had to show our passports, but it must have been at least ten. The best bit was when we had to line up at a cashier's booth (sadly, I think it was on the Israeli side of the border), where there was a real free-for-all of a queue with much shouting, mainly on the part of our driver of the moment, who very clearly was looking after our interests.
Before leaving home, we'd been told that we needed to pay around $US50 per head in folding money as we exited
Israel. With the driver yelling at the cashier, it seemed that each passenger ahead of us in the line was being charged a different amount. When our turn came, we handed over the two $US50 notes, whereupon the driver started arguing with the girl in Hebrew, while turning in our direction from time to time and winking. She reluctantly handed us back $US15, after which he continued to argue until she gave us a further bundle of dinar notes. With all the carry-on one would think that Israel and Jordan were sworn enemies rather than supposedly close allies. While the place looked to be formal and official there's no doubt that the negotiations were more like what one finds in a Middle-Eastern market.
Eventually, we got through all the official stuff, and finished up on a 15 seat mini-bus with eight of us on board, the other six all being very friendly Americans. Our Jordanian guide, Sam, who has been doing the job for 26 years, proved to be very knowledgeable and friendly. Once he'd introduced himself we were off, along some steep, windy and scenic roads in the direction of the ancient city of Jerash. It's a massive site, with a continuous history dating from the bronze age through to today. It is best known for its spectacular Roman ruins and is widely acknowledged as one of the best preserved Roman provincial towns in the world. To quote from the guide map, "...it comprises paved and colonnaded streets,, soaring hill-top temples, handsome theatres, spacious public squares nd plazas, baths, fountains and city walls pierced by towers and gates.
Very impressive, but boy, was it hot! There wasn't a lot of shade, though Sam did his best to allow us to rest in the shade whenever we stopped for him to explain something to us. To a varying extent all of us in the tour group overdid it. Heroically, Brian walked almost to the far extremity of the site, and definitely pushed himself hard. We were the oldest members of the group, and both of us were proud of our efforts alongside the others.
We then headed back for the 90 minute drive to Amman where our mini-bus driver took us on a comprehensive tour of the capital. We were shown some of the major vistas and other tourist attractions, after which we were dropped off at the Liwan Hotel, a clean and spacious 3-star establishment.
When Brian asked our guide whether Petra is likely to be any less challenging he was non-committal, beyond emphasising that we need to wear strong walking shoes. We'll see what tomorrow brings.Leia mais
Hi Brian and Mary , Eileen here. It all sounds wonderful and quite full on. You will need a holiday to get over the holiday! A lot of history and historical events to take on board and remember but Brian seems to be soaking it all up and more to the point remembering it. XX send
Looking forward to hearing about Petra. Interesting adventure so far. Don't let Mum dehydrate, she'll disappear!! JK x
Jerusalem and Tel Aviv
2 de setembro de 2017, Israel
⛅ 27 °C
After the previous night's celebrations, we were happy to have a leisurely start to the day. Besides, just like for us when we're at home, Gil and Mira had a big pile of weekend newspapers to read. We were glad of the excuse to do very little for an hour or two. Gil, Mary and Brian then set off for a tour of the outskirts of Jerusalem. We visited a couple of nearby vantage points where Gil pointed out some of the Jewish and Arab settlements and the wire fence separating the two areas. It should be mentioned that this is a long way from any of the trouble spots and there have been no incidents in these particular areas.
Gil was keen to show us Castel National Park, which is a memorial commemorating key battles in Israel’s 1948 War of Independence. The mountain commands the western approach to Jerusalem, overlooking the old road to Jerusalem. During the War of Independence, many convoys set out to break the Arab blockade of Jerusalem to send food and medicine to the Jews in Jerusalem. Many of these convoys were ambushed, and it became clear that control of the mountain meant control of the road.
In early April 1948, the Arabs deserted the village of Kastel, and the Israeli Palmach unit entered the village. The Arabs fought against them, and their leader, Abdul Khader el-Husseini, was killed. 41 Israeli soldiers were killed in the battle which followed, and the Israeli troops retreated on April 8. Three days later, in Operation Nachshon, the Israeli troops re-conquered the village without a battle.
We walked through the line of trenches, visited underground bunkers and saw two impressive audio-visual displays which showed how the out-numbered Jewish forces fought off the Arab forces. Most interesting.
Being Shabbat (the Sabbath), most things were very quiet, with hardly anyone around and very little traffic, which was good from our point of view. Gil and Mira had promised to take us to the historic port of Jaffa, nowadays a suburb on the outskirts of Tel Aviv, so after one of Mira's very generous lunches we set off. Jaffa is very scenic, and we found the visit most interesting..
Next, we headed in to Tel Aviv, to the new unit where Brian's second cousin Esther (Gil's sister) lives with her husband Yossi. When we were in Israel in 2014 we stayed with them in their house in Beer Sheba, where they were wonderful hosts and terrific tour guides. They were keen to show us their new unit, which was under construction when we were there previously. It really is spectacular, very modern and spacious with a view out to the Mediterranean coast. Even though several other apartment blocks are being built in the area, their balcony overlooks the historic Sarona area, after which their building is named, and they cannot be built out. Sarona was a German Templer colony established in Ottoman Palestine in 1871. It was one of the earliest modern villages established by Europeans in Ottoman Palestine. In July 1941, the British Mandate authorities deported 188 residents of Sarona, who were considered hard-core Nazi sympathisers. Nowadays it is a very trendy area with many parks, and with many of the historic buildings now repurposed as trendy restaurants. The ground floor of the building itself is now full with dozens of restaurants and trendy food shops. It's certainly an area with a lot of character - and a foodie's paradise.
The two of us together with Gil and Mira, Esther and Yossi and Esther's live-in carer Rachel headed off to an excellent Italian restaurant in one of the converted buildings, where we all enjoyed a really great meal.Leia mais
We'll have to stay here
1 de setembro de 2017, Israel
⛅ 25 °C
We last visited Jerusalem in 2014, and one of the reasons for returning, aside from being able to visit all the members of the Korner family again, was to see some of the many places we didn't get to visit last time. As if there was any doubt, this visit has demonstrated that the more places we explore in Jerusalem the more we realise how much there is still to see and do.
After a leisurely breakfast, Gil, Mary and Brian headed off for a bit of sightseeing. Mira didn't accompany us as she had a lot to do at home. More of that in a moment. First, we headed for the Israel Museum. We'd paid a rushed visit there last time, but hadn't even begun to do it justice on that occasion. We began this time by visiting a large temporary exhibition of the works of the subversive Chinese artist Ai Weiwei. The exhibition itself is highly controversial, with many powerful and eloquent statements against the Chinese government, which he has every reason to hate.
We then moved on to look at some of the excellent archaeological displays in this spectacular museum. Everything is presented in a very lean and stark fashion with subtle lighting. Its really quite something.
From there, the three of us headed off to the old city where Gil wanted to pick up a few bits and pieces from the Jerusalem Market, a place we hadn't visited before. In Istanbul, we'd made several visits previously to the Grand Bazaar and to the Egyptian Spice Market, but this was something else again. Crowded, noisy and exciting it differs from those other markets in that it is for locals and isn't at all touristy. Mary absolutely loves places like this and was wandering round the whole time with a grin on her face like a split melon. Until we came to Israel the first time, i 2014, we'd believed that hummus was hummus was hummus, but that isn't the case at all. Israelis are hummus connoisseurs, and the search is always on to find the best hummus restaurant. Gil wanted to take us to his favourite one, adjacent to the market, but there was a queue to halfway down the street. It must be good. We then chose one inside the market which was the size of a pocket handkerchief, but somehow we managed to squeeze ourselves in. Its hummus was excellent and we're now beginning to understand what all the fuss is about.
Meanwhile, back at base, Mira had been slaving over a hot stove preparing for a family dinner. Two sons-in-law were celebrating birthdays, and we felt very honoured that the dinner was in recognition also of our being there. Every family was bringing some food as a contribution, and we did our little bit by providing some very tasty fresh baklava from the market.
Living on the far side of the planet, we have very little direct contact with the family members, which is a shame, as the Israeli Korners are very close and frequently get together. We'd first seen this in 2014 when everyone got together in Beer Sheba for the Rosh Hashannah (Jewish New Year) celebrations. This gathering was every bit as large and as lively, with 30 of us, representing four generations from Mira's 93 year old mother to the one year old youngest grandchild. It was a nice warm evening, typical for this time of year, so we were all able to sit outside. A great time was had by all.Leia mais
Underground in Jerusalem
31 de agosto de 2017, Palestina
⛅ 20 °C
On this and our previous visit, we'd seen much of Jerusalem from ground level, but most of its history lies many metres below the present surface. This was the day when we were to discover so much more of Jerusalem's ancient history.
Gil and Mira had booked for the four of us to go on two guided tours, starting with a tour of the City of David. Menachem, our very knowledgeable guide started at a lookout overlooking the present Old City, where he pointed out the area where it is believed the early city began some 3200 years ago. We also viewed ancient stone walls, believed to be part of the palace of King David, dating back to the 10th to 9th century BC. The old city is like one giant archaeological site, and we spent some time observing some archaeologists at work many metres below where we were standing.
There are many tunnels which used to carry water, and we walked through one of them, a distance of several hundred metres, under the walls of the old city. Both of us were pleased that we'd lost weight, as it was a fairly tight squeeze in some places. This was a fascinating way to learn about Jerusalem's origins and history, and we thoroughly enjoyed our two hours with a very knowledgeable guide. We also realised how little we know, and Brian resolved there and then that he is going to re-read that fact-filled book by Simon Sebag Montefiore, "Jerusalem: A Biography."
We then went for a wander in the area of the western wall of Temple Mount, and Gil and Brian visited the synagogue at the southern end of the wall. (By custom, women aren't allowed in there). It was a very biblical scene with many religious Jews praying in there, and Brian would have loved to have taken photos. Somehow it didn't seem right to do so, though that didn't deter quite a number of the tourists who were happily snapping away without any sense of decorum.
This morning had been only Part 1 of very interesting our history lesson, and after a light lunch in the Arab quarter of the old city we set off on Part 2, which was a tour through the Tunnel of the Wall. It is easy to forget that the walls of Temple Mount extend down well below the present street level. The Western Wall Tunnel is an underground tunnel exposing the full length of the Western Wall. It is located under buildings of the Old City of Jerusalem. While the open-air portion of the Western Wall is approximately 60 metres long, the majority of its original length is hidden underground. The tunnel allows access to an additional 485 metres of the wall.
Our American-born guide for this tour fancied himself as a stage actor, and he certainly livened things up with his performance. It proved to be highly enjoyable. The tunnel itself was beautiful and cool, almost like being in air conditioning, and a pleasant break from the heat outside. To see thousands those giant limestone blocks up close, and to realise how heavy they are and how precisely they fit together with barely the the space for a cigarette paper between them, makes one realise what a massive engineering structure the Temple Mount is. It was built under the reign of King Herod, who is responsible for many grandiose engineering works such as his three palaces on the top of the almost inaccessible Masada.
We spent some time examining the biggest stone in the Western Wall, often called the Western Stone. It ranks as one of the heaviest objects ever lifted by human beings without powered machinery. This single block of stone has a length of 13.6 metres, height of 3 metres, and an estimated width of between 3.5 metres and 4.5 metres. Estimates place its weight at 520 tonnes. That is only slightly less than a fully-laden A380 jumbo, so it's mind-boggling to think of this huge object being quarried and then lifted and manoeuvred into place. Following our excellent day of history tours we headed back to Gil and Mira's for breather before heading out for a very tasty meal at one of the many restaurants in the suburb of Ein Kerem.Leia mais
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