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The World on Two Wheels
The World on Two Wheels

The World on Two Wheels

After discovering the joys of cycling in 2002 I took a group of fellow riders to China in 2006. Since then we have gone on to complete 54 other overseas cycling and trekking adventures which have taken us all over the planet. Leer más🇦🇺Melbourne
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  • The World on Two Wheels2014 Kiwi Cycling AdventureThe World on Two Wheels

    Cycling to Dunedin

    20 de marzo de 2014, Nueva Zelanda ⋅ 13 °C

    Our third day of cycling was our toughest yet. Although the distance was a moderate 60 km. the howling gale from the ocean made the going incredibly tough. At times we felt like we were pedalling backwards, such was the ferocity of the wind. We also had the added challenge of some serious climbs.

    It was little wonder that we relished the chance to get out of the wind for our lunch stop. Our final destination was the large city of Dunedin.    Leer más

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    Cycling to Kurow

    19 de marzo de 2014, Nueva Zelanda ⋅ 16 °C

    This morning we had an option to visit the nearby DOC Black Stilt recovery centre to learn about one of NZ’s most endangered bird species. The black stilts are under pressure from the invasive lupins which chock up the braided waterways – as well as the foraging rats and hedgehogs who attack their nests,

    A short drive to the low pass above Otamata accessed the downhill cycle and side road which took us to the majestic Aviemore dam. A beautiful sealed lakeside road kept us entertained before we had a short drive to our accommodation for the night. The small village of Kurow was worth
    exploration by bike, traveling from the historic bridge over the Waitaki River, to the beautifully restored St. Albans Church.    Leer más

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    Hiking then Biking

    18 de marzo de 2014, Nueva Zelanda

    We awoke early to begin a morning hike to the stunning Hooker Glacier. Although many people had warned about the cold and wet weather of the South Island, we were relieved that so far we had seen nothing but blue skies and sunshine.

    As we walked to the glacier, the horizon was dominated by the towering, snow capped peak of Mt Cook. Although not huge by world standards, it can be a treacherous peak to climb, with over 80 climbers having lost their lives attempting to reach the summit.

    We stopped at a small lake, liberally filled with large floating lumps of ice. I grabbed a crystal clear block of ice to examine it at close range. It resembled a block of clear glass.

    After returning to the car park, it was finally time to get on the bikes and start pedalling. Ahead of us was a 75 km ride to Twizel, which was to be our base for the night.

    Fortunately the weather stayed clear and the kilometres quickly ticked by. It was a perfect start to our New Zealand riding.    Leer más

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    Mt Cook

    17 de marzo de 2014, Nueva Zelanda

    We traveled to Temuka (2 hrs from Christchurch) before our first ride on quiet sealed rural roads took us to a local winery for lunch. The afternoon saw us riding on more quiet rural roads through lovely scenery, before we drove to Mt Cook (2.5 hrs).

    At Lake Tekapo we visited the Church of the Good Shepherd and the statue tribute to the sheepdogs that make farming the Mackenzie Basin possible. The lake is also the first of the storage lakes which feed the hydro schemes in the basin and down the Waitaki valley which we will follow over the coming days. We continued on to Mt Cook where we visited the Sir Edmund Hillary Alpine Centre and the local DoC centre . We also walked to a viewpoint for stunning views of the 26 km long Tasman Glacier and Mt Cook.    Leer más

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    Touchdown in Christchurch

    16 de marzo de 2014, Nueva Zelanda ⋅ 🌧 17 °C

    After the short flight from Melbourne, we touched down at Christchurch Airport, where we were met by the lady who was to be our guide for the next two weeks. I would like to be able to remember her name, but since my journal was lost some years ago, I have no idea what it was. Maybe for convenience I will refer to her as "Jenny". It might even be correct.

    Jenny was a combination cycling guide and bus driver. She had a 22 seater bus waiting outside the airport to transfer us to our hotel for the evening. On our drive through Christchurch we could see the widespread damage that had been caused to the city just three years earlier.

    Tomorrow we will be transferring to Mt Cook.    Leer más

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  • The World on Two Wheels2014 Kiwi Cycling AdventureThe World on Two Wheels

    Leaving Melbourne

    16 de marzo de 2014, Australia ⋅ ☁️ 12 °C

    Like all of our previous overseas adventures, this one started when 13 Ghostriders met together at Melbourne Airport, early on Sunday morning. We were about to head off for our first cycling adventure in New Zealand. Although I had been to New Zealand twice previously, this was going to be my first chance to experience it on two wheels.

    Although New Zealand is only three hours away by air, we had been prewarned about the difficulties of cycling in this little country. The prospect of facing back breaking climbs, howling gales, maniacal drivers, daily rainstorms (and not to mention frequent earthquakes) may be enough to deter most potential two wheeled explorers - but not the Ghostriders. We were prepared to face almost anything the shaky isles could throw at us.

    After an early coffee at the airport, it was soon time to board the plane and head east. About twelve months earlier we had moved to a new house in Pakenham and, since I was sitting by a window seat, I wondered whether I might be able to see my neighbourhood from 30,000 ft. This question was soon answered as the clouds parted and I was able to clearly see the large lake which was a local landmark. At least I knew that the plane was flying in the right direction.

    We were on our way.    Leer más

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    Back Home in Melbourne

    19 de octubre de 2013, Australia ⋅ 24 °C

    22/10
    We are now both safely back from Europe and settling into our new home in Pakenham.
    The flight back from France was long and tiring and not without a share of excitement. When attempting to land at Kuala Lumpar the pilot had to make a last minute abort when zero visibility and drenching rain made the landing unsafe. With a roar of full power we were pushed back into our seats as he made a steep climb and then circled until the storm moved through. About 20 mins later we landed safely in much more benign conditions.Leer más

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    Paris - Day 3

    16 de octubre de 2013, Francia ⋅ ⛅ 14 °C

    Paris, Latin Quarter

    We arrived in Paris almost two months ago, in the middle of a late summer heat wave. With temperatures in the 30s and hot sunshine it was always something of a relief to get back to the relative coolness of our hotel in Montmartre. Seven weeks later the seasons have made their transition into late autumn, and you sense that the cold days of winter are not too far away. The trees that were covered in bright green leaves are now clothed in various shades of brown and orange and the avenues and boulevards of the famous city are now carpeted with a thick layer of fallen leaves.

    On our last full day in Paris the skies were dark and leaden overhead and a gentle drizzle had fallen for most of the past few hours, turning the millions of cobblestones to shiny stars on the ground. We decided to spend our time huddled under an umbrella just wandering the labyrinth of streets near our hotel.

    We are staying near the Boulevard de Saint Michel in the middle of the Latin Quarter of the city. With the huge student populations of the nearby Sorbonne and University of Paris, this area has a distinctly different feel to the bohemian/arty atmosphere of Montmartre.

    The Latin Quarter is filled with a labyrinth of narrow streets and alleyways, containing an incredible mixture of small shops. It is always an adventure to just wander these streets, not knowing what surprise lies around the next corner. Tiny Antiquarian bookstores are stocked to the ceilings with fading copies of old books and manuscripts, tiny toy stores sell everything from wooden puppets to music boxes, shop front art galleries feature the works of rising young artists, other stores sell an eclectic mix of antiques, clothing, old radios, knick knacks and anything else that strikes the owner's fancy. If you peer in the windows of these shops you will usually see the owner sitting at their desk immersed in some old book, not seeming to care at all whether a customer walks in their door or not.

    On our aimless wander we happened to stumble across a gem of a store called the "Joie de Vivre" (Joy of Life). Inside was a delightful cornucopia of kitchenware, furniture and other quirky items. We left some time later, a little poorer but carrying a couple of delightful little mementos which we will always treasure.

    After dinner in a roadside Brasserie we walked back to our hotel and noticed that the skies had miraculously cleared to reveal a brilliant full moon hovering over Notre Dame and the Seine. What an amazing way to remember the final night in Paris. It was too good an opportunity to miss so we spent the next couple of hours wandering along the river in the moonlight, watching the large tourist boats and the dazzling lights on the Eiffel Tower. In the Place de la Concorde we stood and gazed up the famous Avenue de Champs Elysees and stared at the patterns of light caused by the headlights and taillights of the hundreds of cars heading to and from the Arc de Triomphe. A fleet of diminutive Citroen 2CVs were parked on the side of the road. What an iconic end to a marvellous trip.

    We finally wandered back to our hotel, tired and footsore but deliciously happy. I can't wait to get back here again as soon as possible.    Leer más

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    Paris - Day 2

    15 de octubre de 2013, Francia ⋅ ⛅ 13 °C

    Whether you love Paris or loathe Paris, one thing that everyone has to agree on is that it is never, ever boring. Any walk around the streets of the city reveals a never ending series of human drama, comedy and pathos. That is what caused me to fall in love with this place on my first visit and this emotion has been reinforced on every subsequent time that I have been here. Certainly the place is not perfect. The worsening problem of itinerant gypsy scammers and pickpockets, the predilection of the residents for public urination, the minefield of dog faeces on virtually every footpath and the suicidal way that car drivers and motorcycle riders seem to completely ignore any type of traffic signals, do constitute considerable challenges for any first time visitor.

    However, when you scratch beneath the surface you have to admire the passionate way that Parisians live out their lives every day. From the energetic way that they queue outside the Boulangerie twice a day for their supply of fresh baguettes, their undoubted sense of style, the way that they don't just simply talk to each other - they perform, the gay abandon with which they step out in front of speeding traffic without even looking, the way that they embrace individualism and the sheer romantic nature of this city that is exuded from every narrow walkway and ancient building, this city is truly alive. Spend a few days or weeks here and you cannot help but fall under its spell.

    Maggie and I are now back in our hotel room after spending another day walking the city from one end to the other. We are now nursing our tired feet but savouring the multitude of memories that we will return home with. With only another two days left of our adventure, our time really is drawing to a close. Today we heard that the sale of our Emerald home has gone unconditional, so that means we will return with a lot of work to do in order to empty the house before settlement. That will mean a big clearing sale and lots of ebay adverts as there will be many items that will not be needed in our new place.

    By next Monday we will be home and looking forward to another chapter in our lives.    Leer más

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    Paris Latin Quarter

    14 de octubre de 2013, Francia ⋅ ⛅ 12 °C

    Latin Quarter, Paris, Monday Oct 14th

    After an amazing couple of months, we are finally back in Paris where will have a final three days before the long journey back to Australia. Over the past few days we have been making our way back north again after our time on the Mediterranean Coast. Our time spent at Cassis was priceless. It was something of a chance decision to stay there but it turned out to be another highlight of an amazing trip. Cassis is situated on the Mediterranean about 30 mins (and a world away) from Marseilles. It is surrounded by steep cliffs and the streets down to the port all have gradients of 20% or more. It is quite a workout walking down to the water and back up again but the port itself is delightful. We were also blessed with superb weather for our entire stay. Every day greeted us with crystal clear blue skies and warm sunshine and each night there were dozens of waterfront restaurants to choose to eat at.

    Upon leaving Cassis we quickly managed to get lost on the surrounding roads and spent about 60 mins trying to find the correct way out of town. We had planned to bypass the huge city of Marseilles but somehow due to a succession of navigational mishaps we found our way right into the middle of its traffic nightmare. This also turned out to be the only place in France where we were tooted for not driving fast enough (not just once but three times). I felt like getting out and saying "Don't you realise that we are lost ?" In spite of the minor perturbation in our plans we eventually found our way onto the right tollway and arrived safely at Nimes.

     Our hotel was a lovely place in a restored old Abbey on the edge of town. After dark we decided to drive in search of somewhere to eat. Once again a minor missed turn found us locked onto a tollway where there was no chance to exit for about 30 km. A ten minute drive became about a 90 min and 90 km effort. We were relieved when we finally found our way back to the hotel.

    The next day was the final day with our rental car, which we had arranged to drop off at Toulouse. Most of the way was via high speed (140 kph) tollways so it did not take long to drive the 300 or more km from Nimes. Our car was a Toyota Aurius hybrid which returned the amazing figures of under 5 l//100 km. Even though the petrol was dearer than in Australia the fantastic economy of the car meant that our fuel costs were very low. It was something of a relief to find the Europcar Rental depot in the middle of a large and crowded city. After thousands of km of driving around the country we had come through safe and sound.

    We broke the journey back to Paris into two stages stopping overnight at the lovely city of Limoges. This city is famous for its production of porcelain and the Musee de Porcelain was really well worth the visit. The next day involved another train trip from Limoges to Paris. It was not a "high speed train" but it still reached speeds up to 200 kph and was extremely clean and comfortable. We arrived back in Paris at about 2 pm and walked the 1.5km to our hotel in the Latin Quarter. This was where our trip began all those weeks ago. So much had happened since then that it now seems like a lifetime ago.

    The weather has also moved deep into Autumn and the mini skirts and shorts have now been replaced with distinctly winter type gear. This afternoon we walked about 6 km and were once again entranced by the life and drama that always is Paris. What a city !

    Accommodation - Hotel Cujas Pantheon    Leer más

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    Nimes

    11 de octubre de 2013, Francia ⋅ ☁️ 11 °C

    This town was a bit of a blur due to the fact that I was suffering from a blistering headache for much of the time we were there. I do remember nearly getting wiped out by a huge truck (possibly my fault) and then getting stuck on a toll way that I could not escape from for about 30 km.

    The most remarkable feature of the town itself is the huge Roman coliseum.

    Accommodation was at Hotel Le Pre Galoffre, Nimes.    Leer más

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    Cassis

    8 de octubre de 2013, Francia ⋅ ⛅ 16 °C

    Cassis on the Mediterranean Coast, Southern France, Tuesday 8th Oct

    After our excitement in the Alps, it is somewhat of a relief to be back down at sea level, or to be more exact, to be right by the sea in the resort town of Cassis. For Maggie it is the first time she has seen the Mediterranean and she can now testify that it really IS as blue as it appears in the photos.

    Cassis is a breathtaking location, with a lovely, sheltered port, lighthouse, ancient clifftop ruins and very steep streets. Unlike most French towns it does not close down as soon as the sun sets, and we were able to find a huge number of beachfront eateries for our dinner last night. A large sailing ship, looking like Captain Jack Sparrow's Black Pearl, moored in the harbour and made a magnificent silhouette against the setting sun. We sat on the pier watching the skies slowly darken while the thinnest possible crescent moon slowly sank to the horizon. It was a memory we will long treasure.

    During the daytime Cassis is something of a tourist Mecca with the inevitable clusters of waddling tourists regularly being disgorged from their waiting buses for their obligatory 45 min boat cruise. With their matching name tags and all wearing white baseball caps they reminded me of the penguin parade at Philip Island. At the front of each flock is their flag waving tour guide. Fortunately, the crush of tourists are all back on their buses by midafternoon to be whisked off to their next stop on their "all of Europe in 10 days" tour packages. That type of travel is obviously booming, but for the life of me I cannot understand why anyone would ever settle for that type of artificial experience.

    Maggie and I are now going to spend the next 2 or 3 days here exploring the local walking paths and beaches. The weather is superb with blue skies overhead and temperatures in the mid 20s. We still have not seen any wind since we arrived in France 5 weeks ago.

    Today looks like a mirror image of the previous ones. By next week we will begin making our way back towards Paris and the inevitable end of our adventure. We will both come back a little poorer but with a brimming storehouse of incredible memories.

    Our accommodation is at the Villa W, Cassis    Leer más

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    Sisteron

    6 de octubre de 2013, Francia ⋅ 12 °C

    In Which a Ghostrider Conquers Alpe D'Huez (and then gets lost in the Alps)

    Every year when I sit up late and watch those captivating mountain stages of the Tour de France, I wonder just what it would be really like to summit one of those famous mountains such as The Tourmalet or The Galibier or, perhaps the most notorious of them all, the feared Alpe d'Huez.

    When Maggie and I made our plans to spend a few weeks exploring France, there was one item that I made sure I slipped into our itinerary. After spending a couple of days in the beautiful alpine region known as the Vercors, it was time to confront my mountaintop challenge and head through Grenoble and up into the very heart of the alps. Once leaving Grenoble, the road quickly climbs and we passed a succession of road signs pointing to some of those places that Phil Liggot had made so famous in his Tour commentaries.

    It was worth noting that, while the countryside in this region is indeed beautiful, it is actually sullied by many derelict and ugly concrete factories and storehouses. We started to see why the Tour broadcasts are so often interrupted by helicopter travelogues - I suspect that these are carefully choreographed to be inserted whenever the peloton passes through one of these not so glamorous places.

    As we climbed, I started to see the first signs pointing us to the Alpe d'Huez and my pulse rate started to quicken a little. Once you start the final climb up the mountain there is a series of at least 21 sharp hairpin bends which have to be navigated. Each of these bends has a small sign indicating its elevation and also the number of bends remaining to be climbed.

    Along the way we passed quite a few cyclists trying to defy gravity and common sense by riding their bikes to the summit. While some of these looked to be doing it comfortably (if anyone can actually be comfortable fighting a bike up a mongrel 10% or more gradient), others looked like they were about to suffer a stroke at any moment. Wobbling all over the road at a pace something approaching that of a glacier, some of these grey haired old battlers looked like the climb would probably be the last thing they ever did.

    When you watch the TV coverage it is impossible to appreciate just how steep this mountain is and how much the slope increases on each turn. The road itself is scarred with huge cracks in the bitumen and with hundreds of painted signs extolling the virtues of a cavalcade of past cycling greats. With each turn the numbers of the signs decreases 16, 15, 14....and the view down to the valley floor become more and more breathtaking. The weather at these elevations can be very unpredictable but on the day that we made the climb it was perfect. Not only was there no wind but the sky was clear allowing the sunshine to raise the temperature considerably.

    About half way to the summit we stopped to take a few photos and I took the opportunity to encourage a few of the struggling riders on their way. I walked alongside one rider who was old enough to know better and shouted in his left ear "Allez, Allez". He managed a brief smile in my direction before almost coming to a complete stop. I was a little worried that my words of encouragement might have been the cause of his premature retirement but somehow, he barely managed to remain upright and continue his excruciating way up the mountain. I climbed back in my car and resumed the climb in a more intelligent fashion.

    When we rounded the final corner and noticed that it was labelled "0" we knew that the summit must be near. It is here that we entered a sizeable city of ski lodges, hotels, chair lifts, shops and restaurants - all of them closed. It was like a large ghost town. We soon discovered the actual finish line of the Tour de France stage and I did what any intelligent cheat would do. Donning my bike helmet and yellow Ghostrider jersey I stood on the top of the podium while Maggie took my picture. While it might have been with the aid of the internal combustion engine, at least my achievement had been achieved without the aid of performance enhancing drugs.

    After spending an hour or so at the summit it was time to leave the Alps and continue on our way to Sisteron. Allowing the GPS to select the shortest route we soon found ourselves heading along a tiny death-defying ledge with a sheer drop on the side. Obviously, the GPS did not know the difference between which roads were for mountain goats and which were for cars. My finger nails started to imbed themselves into the steering wheel as we crawled around one blind corner after another, however I needn't have worried about having a collision as I don't think any other cars had used the road for years. It was just a little terrifying for both of us but somehow we eventually found our way onto a bigger road and slowly made our way back into civilization. What a day it had been !    Leer más

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    Meaudre Thunderstorm

    5 de octubre de 2013, Francia ⋅ ☁️ 9 °C

    In Which the Mountains Get A Shaking (and we LOVE it)

    Somehow, we managed to navigate our way back through the storm to our Gite in Les Gonnets. With the rain sheeting down and the darkness almost impenetrable it was very difficult to see where we were going on these unfamiliar mountain roads. It was a relief when we finally found our place for the night and were able to settle down in a nice cosy bed.

    No sooner had our heads hit the pillows when the region was rocked by a series of loud explosions which reverberated around the surrounding mountains for at least 20 seconds. Maggie sat up and said "What was that ?". "I think it must have been a plane" was my sleepy reply. A couple of minutes later the explosions repeated and I realised that we were in the middle of a spectacular alpine thunderstorm. In these surroundings such storms take on a whole new dimension where you can feel the vibrations right through your body. Several times I had experienced similar storms in the Himalayas, and they are experiences I will never forget. I threw the windows and shutters open so that we could get a better view of the spectacle. For the next hour or so we were treated to a mighty free pyrotechnics display. Every minute or so the sky would blaze with lightning and then the mighty thunder would follow soon after. How much better than watching TV !!!

    Finally, the storm passed, and we were able to settle back into a deep sleep. This morning, over breakfast, the owner and his wife showed us pictures of this house taken last October when the snows arrived early. The pictures showed everything in sight buried under a good 2 metres of snow. Apparently the snow did not melt until May this year. That’s what I call a real winter.

    Today we are going to have a quiet day exploring the local ski fields and small villages. Tomorrow will be another big day when we head off to climb the famous Alpe d'Huez, scene of so many famous cycling exploits in the Tour de France.    Leer más

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    Meaudre

    5 de octubre de 2013, Francia ⋅ ☁️ 10 °C

    In Which Two Adventurers Get Caught in A Storm in the Alps

    Every year when the Tour de France is on, I sit up late at night captivated, not only by the prowess of the riders, but also by of the majesty of the towering French Alps. It had long been a dream of mine to one day explore these same mountains and see at first hand some of the roads that had featured so many times in the famous battles for cycling stardom.
    When Maggie and I were planning our trip, I made sure that the route would take us right through the main alpine region. Maggie, on the other hand, being terrified of heights, preferred a sea level itinerary. Of course, I convinced her that the roads were perfectly safe and that at no time would we be near the edge (actually I lied just a little in that respect).

    This morning we left Lake Geneva and headed towards Mont Blanc and Grenoble. The first section of the drive was done in thick clouds so we could not see much at all of the surroundings, apart from the odd snow capped razor back mountain appearing briefly through short breaks in the cloud. After a couple of wrong turns we found ourselves on a succession of high speed toll roads and made a considerable contribution to the French economy in the process. By the same token, driving at 140 kph is an experience that I am starting to get used to.

    Our drive took us through the large mountainside city of Grenoble, and we quickly learned that it must have more traffic lights than the rest of France put together. Once out of Grenoble the road immediately climbs fiercely, and each switchback gives glimpses of the city rapidly disappearing below. By this time Maggie's knuckles were white and she was glaring at me with a judgmental look in her eye. When I encouraged her to enjoy the view, she tersely replied that she was only "looking at the dashboard".

    After more than an hour of climbing we reached a beautiful high plateau surrounded by mountains and ski fields, Our accommodation for the night was booked in an obscure little hamlet called "Les Gonnets". Thanks to Google maps and the wizardry of GPS technology we found the place and settled into our room. We need not have worried about whether there would be sufficient space for us as we have the entire place to ourselves.

    After a bit of a nap, we decided it was time to find some place to eat and pulled aside the curtains to discover that the skies had opened and that the rain was literally sheeting down. The temperature had also dropped dramatically.
    In the five weeks that we have been in France the weather had been fine and dry, so it was something of a shock to see such a vicious change. I started to worry what would happen if the rain turned to snow and left us snowed in for days. The proprietor had already explained that for about 4 months of every year the region is metres deep in snow. Could it be that the changing weather patterns had brought the snow a month early ?

    We made a dash for our car and immediately got soaked to the skin in the downpour. When I started to drive it was almost impossible to see where we were going, even with the extra driving lights switched on. Fortunately we somehow found a small cafe (we were the ony ones there) and were able to enjoy a delicious meal before struggling to navigate our way back along the same dark alpine roads in the continuing storm. The heatwave that welcomed us to Paris a few short weeks ago now seems like a distant memory.    Leer más

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    Meaudre

    4 de octubre de 2013, Francia ⋅ ☁️ 11 °C

    In Which the Whole Town Stared in Wonder

    Dressed in his best dark suit and tie, the young man certainly stood out from the crowd. He was also in a wheelchair pushed along by his elderly mother. We had only arrived in the beautiful alpine town of Champagnole only a couple of hours earlier and were looking for somewhere to get some food after a long day's drive.

    As he approached me I could see that his face was flushed with animation. When he saw me he made a line straight for me and started to explain something rapidly in French. At first, I made the completely wrong assumption that he was asking for money and told him that I could not understand what he was saying.

    He then switched into broken English, and I could detect that he was trying to tell me something about the large bell tower at the end of the main street. When I followed his pointing hand, I finally saw the object of his excitement. A large waterbird had perched right on the top of the tower and was preening itself on the highest spot in the town. From the young man's excitement, it was obvious that it was unusual sight to see a waterbird this far from the sea. Once he realised that I could see what he had been telling me about he proceeded to work his way along the street, sharing this information with everyone he met.

     Soon the street was filled with people staring at the steeple, small crowds gathered looking up at the solitary bird, cameras were clicking and smiles were in abundant supply.

    It had been a simple event that had somehow touched the lives of many of the people in the vicinity. In a complex and stressful world, it was so refreshing to realise that not everyone has lost their sense of wonder. I will take that episode in my memory as a highlight of my trip.    Leer más

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    A Birthday in Champagnole

    2 de octubre de 2013, Francia ⋅ ⛅ 16 °C

    Champagnole, France Wed Oct 2nd

    One of the amazing things about travel is the unexpected treasures and unforgettable experiences that can lie in wait around the next bend. Last night we stayed in a renovated 16th century pub near Flavigny. When we made the booking, we did not know what to expect and it was with some degree of trepidation that we pulled up outside the door at around 5 pm. A tug on the door showed it to be locked tight - not a great sign when you are miles from anywhere and needing a room for the night. After a few more knocks on the door, it was opened by a diminutive gent who exclaimed in a distinctly non-French voice "You must be the Australians". I had not expected to hear a thick Scotch accent in this part of the world but, over the next few hours, we learnt something of his life story.

    Andy had been searching the Internet 4 years ago when he saw an advert for a dilapidated pub in rural France. Although he did not speak a word of French at the time, he found himself the owner of the place and then set about a labour of love restoring the place. Although the job is not complete the current state of Le Soleil d'Or is a testimony to what hard work and a vision can achieve. Our room was absolutely delightful and the opportunity to speak English after weeks of struggling with my pidgin French was a real treat.

    This morning we said goodbye to Andy (and his noisy donkey) and left him standing by the roadside waving us on our way. We then began the 200 km trip to Champagnole on our way to Switzerland. Much of the way was on one of the mighty toll ways. Sitting at 130 kph on the wrong side of the road is an exciting experience but one that I would not like to see replicated on the Monash Freeway.

     The countryside here is green and so lush and beautiful. Some parts reminded me of the Dandenongs, with another 1000 years or so of history thrown in for good measure. Today was Maggie's birthday so we stopped by the roadside for a Birthday Picnic, eating baguettes, French lemonade and patisseries. It was something we will both remember for a long time.

    Tomorrow, we continue on our way into Switzerland.    Leer más

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    Saint Marc Sur Seinne

    1 de octubre de 2013, Francia ⋅ 14 °C

    The highlight of today was visiting the beautiful little village of Flavigny, the location where much of the film Chocolat was filmed. It is now visited by thousands of tourists each year, wanting to experience the magic of the movie.

    We enjoyed a quite delicious Plat de Jour (meal of the day). We still don't know exactly what it was, but it really was amazing.

    Our accommodation was at the Hotel Le Soleil d’Or, St Marc sur Seine    Leer más

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    Dijon

    30 de septiembre de 2013, Francia ⋅ ☁️ 16 °C

    We arrived here late this afternoon and we are already both thoroughly in love with this beautiful city. With its wide , pedestrian only, central boulevards, lovely shops, historic town centre, lovely cathedral, modern trams, cosmopolitan atmosphere and spacious gardens there is just so much to like.

     I am sorry that we are not able to spend longer here but tomorrow we hit the roads again on our way to the little town of Flaverny Sur Ozerain, the town where the movie "Chocolat" was filmed. The train from Paris to Dijon was travelling at near 300 kph for large parts of the trip - what a blast ! We can already notice a big change in the geography compared with Brittany and Normandy. Here the terrain is hilly and the air is clear (unlike the misty atmosphere near the coast).    Leer más

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    Giverny - Le Chateau de la Madelaine

    29 de septiembre de 2013, Francia ⋅ 🌧 17 °C

    We had an unforgettable stay in the Chateau de la Madelaine, a 12th century chateau about 8 km from Giverny. This imposing building is situated on 30 acres of rolling lawns and forest, right on the banks of the Seine River. You can see my earlier posts for some images of this place.

    Approaching along the long driveway you could easily let your imagination wander back to bygone ages when this place must have really shone. Even now, although it is showing the inevitable ravages of time, it still reaks of opulence and past money.

    The long dead previous owners must have had a fascination with mirrors as most rooms are adorned with huge, gilded mirrors which help to make the already generous proportions of the rooms look even larger.

    The place is now owned by a charismatic young Frenchman who explained to me that it was purchased by his late mother and father. Although they were respectively a retired judge and a Colonel in the French army, the task of restoring the building proved to be a bridge too far for the aging couple. The responsibility for continuing the restoration work then fell on the shoulders of their young son who now runs the chateau as a boutique bed and breakfast facility.
    During our talk I happened to ask if the chateau had a basement. The reply was "Of course, would you like to see it?" That sounded like something of a challenge so my immediate reply was "Of course".

    He then led me through a labyrinth of corridors and up and down a series of spiral staircases before stopping me in front of a highly decorated wall. He explained "secret door" and proceeded to open a disguised panel to reveal a long dark tunnel on the other side.

    At that point I was starting to get a few second thoughts, but my guide seemed quite excited at the prospect of showing me his secret dungeon. He exclaimed, "Wait I forget something" and disappeared for a couple of minutes to retrieve a tiny (and very dim) torch. Not only was the light output negligible but it was one of those eco torches that have to be rewound every 10 seconds or so in order to keep them working.

    We then both staggered into the clinging darkness. The walls and ceiling seemed to be only inches from my face, and I did not want to imagine what types of furry creatures might be running around my feet. Every few metres he stopped to wind the torch and soon we were immersed in a black subterranean world. I tried not to think what we would do if he dropped the torch.

     We then proceeded to go deeper and deeper into the bowels of the earth until he warned "STOP". A couple of feet in front of me was a vertical well which dropped hundreds of feet out of sight. A couple more steps would have sent me tumbling to a certain death. I don't know how long it had been since anyone had been here, but the cobwebs and musty smell suggested it had been a long, long time.

    By this time, I was feeling a little claustrophobic (actually a lot) and I desperately wanted to get back out into the light again. I turned around and started to feel my way back along the tunnel, only to feel an enormous blow to the head. Although I thought at first that my guide had turned into some sort of evil Igor and had tried to kill me, but the real reason was that I had crowned my head on old rusty water pipe which used to draw water from the well. When I felt my forehead I could feel the first drops of blood starting to seep through. Suffice to say that I was a little more circumspect for the remainder of the return journey and was relieved when we were both out in the daylight again. Nevertheless it had been another very memorable episode in a trip that has already given so much.

    When Maggie asked what happened to my head I simply replied "Don't ask".    Leer más

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