A European Odyssey

sierpnia - listopada 2016
In 2016 a group of 40 Australian cyclists completed a 6 week cycling adventure in Europe. This ride took them from Bruges to Budapest. It was an experience they will never forget. Czytaj więcej

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  • Off to Paris

    7 października 2016, Francja ⋅ ☁️ 13 °C

    Friday October 7th
    In Which we Fly to Paris

    Our final day in Budapest dawned bright and clear. Although we had only had two nights here, we had already grown fond of many aspects of this city. The last time I had been here was seven years ago. At that time I had been disappointed with the lack of pride that the locals had in their city. That had been at the height of the GFC and there were huge problems in many large cities all over the world.
    This time my impressions were quite different and I could see that much had been done to improve the infrastructure and cleanliness of the place.

    There is little doubt that the location of Budapest is spectacular. The Danube has now grown to a massive waterway and the twin cities of Buda and Pest really do make an impressive sight, especially at night.

    Last evening we decided to take an evening cruise along the river

    Since we had spent the last five weeks cycling along its banks, I figured that it would be an appropriate way to spend the final evening of our time together with the team. We were not disappointed. After dark the numerous buildings along the banks of the Danube are tastefully illuminated. The contrast between the hills of Buda and the flatlands of Pest is also clearly visible.

    The most dramatic of all the buildings is the huge parliament building. This is the most famous building in the city and apparently it lays claim to being the largest building in Europe. Although it was only completed in 1902, it was constructed in the classic imperial style and looks much older. Unfortunately the architect of this fine building died before completion and never got to see the finished project.

    This morning we bade farewell to the city and took a short taxi ride to the airport.
    This was the first time I had seen the Budapest airport and I was most impressed by its modern design and efficiency. We were able to quickly check in to our flight and clear security without any delay. A short two hour flight to Paris brought us to Charles de Gaulle airport at around 6 pm.

    I had booked a shared shuttle to take us to our hotel, however there was a slight mixup that saw us with an entire 10 seater minibus just for us and an Irish nun.

    The driver spoke excellent English, as well as Hungarian, Rumanian and French.
    He explained that the traffic in Paris was going to be diabolical due to a big soccer match taking place between France and Bulgaria. This meant that he had to take a very circuitous route to try to dodge the worst of the traffic. Even with all his best efforts it still took over 90 minutes to reach our hotel in the Sorbonne.
    We had a fixed price for the ride, so it did not cost us any extra, but I did feel sorry for the driver and gave him an extra tip for his hard work.

    Our hotel is actually part of the Sorbonne University and has a great location. What it gains in location, unfortunately it lacks in room size. The room was beautifully clean, but so small that I felt that I would need to keep my luggage out in the corridor. This is true of all similar hotels in this city. It is the price you pay for some of the most expensive real estate on the planet.

    At least the bed was clean and comfortable and we were both thrilled to be back in the city we had grown to love so much.
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  • Suckers are Born Every Minute

    8 października 2016, Francja ⋅ ⛅ 13 °C

    Saturday October 8th
    In Which Suckers are Born Every Minute

    According to the old saying, there is a sucker born every minute. That is certainly true in Paris. For many years tourists have been falling prey to the same old Gypsy scams. I spent some time today watching numerous naive suckers make themselves victims.

    In the past I have tried warning people when I have seen them about to get caught, but I have found it is a waste of time - they have to learn for themselves. From time to time the police have tried to remove the Gypsies from the streets, but they appear to be back in greater numbers than ever.

    Their most common scams are the "sign my petition" perpetrated by groups of young Gypsy girls, and the variations of the old 3 cup game, perpetrated by groups of older men.

    The black Africans have another very profitable scam called the "friendship bracelet". In one 10 minute period I saw at least 6 people conned out of lots of cash with that one. No wonder the scammers are so hard to drive away when they are making so much money.

    Maggie and I spent the day wandering the city to visit some of our favourite places. This is getting near the end of the tourist season, so the crowds are not as bad as they are in the middle of summer. We always try to keep clear of the dreaded tour groups and spend most time where the Parisians themselves go. I love the tiny quirky shops in the back streets and the big gardens. The weather was perfect for walking and I have absolutely no idea of just how far we walked, but I am certain that my feet are suffering.
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  • Flaneurs for a Day

    9 października 2016, Francja ⋅ ⛅ 12 °C

    Sunday October 9th
    In Which we Become Flaneurs for a Day

    The French have a word for it - "flaneur". It means one who just spends time strolling about the city. Indeed it is the very best way to explore and experience Paris, not the Paris of the tourists, but the Paris that is enjoyed by the locals. The function of the flaneur is both to see and to be seen, although we were both content to settle for the former.

    The weather in Paris today was absolutely perfect and gave us the perfect opportunity to become flaneurs for a day. We first walked to Gare Montparnasse and then back to the Sorbonne (about 4 km). The next couple of hours were spent relaxing in the beautiful Luxembourg Gardens. This is a favourite recreation area for Parisians and every Sunday it is filled with joggers, exercise groups, family picnics and those just enjoying the sunshine. Sitting on a chair in the warm sunshine, I have to admit that my eyelids became very heavy and my head was soon tilting backwards at a perilous angle

    A few minutes later I woke with a start, grateful that no one had used my open mouth for an ash tray.

    A treasured tradition of this garden are the dozens of small sailboats that children (and adults) sail in the small lake. On this occasion there were dozens of such boats of all shapes and sizes. After our time in the gardens we walked across the Seine and along the Isle St Louis.

    Three years ago Maggie stayed here in an apartment for 2 weeks and it is one of her favourite places in Paris. We enjoyed lunch in a tiny restaurant on the island that we had eaten at several times on previous visits. The food was just as good as we remembered.

    The rest of the day was also spent exploring and observing. By 4.20 pm we were exhausted and returned to our room for an early dinner of coffee, baguettes and biscuits.

    Neither of us will ever get tired of this beautiful city. Tomorrow will be our last full day here before we catch the train to St Malo. We plan to start at Sacre Coeur Cathedral and let the rest of the day take its own course.
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  • Revisiting an old Favourite

    10 października 2016, Francja ⋅ ⛅ 9 °C

    Monday October 10th
    In Which we Revisit an Old Favourite

    The first time I came to Paris I quickly fell in love with the area around Montmartre and Sacre Coeur Cathedral. I also discovered that the very best time to enjoy this place is early in the morning. If you wait till after 10 am you will quickly be swamped by the teaming hordes of tourists with their dreaded selfie sticks. It then loses all its magic and just becomes another circus.

    Maggie and I decided to catch the bus from the Sorbonne to Clignancourt and then walk up to the summit of the Butte Montmartre. It is easy to find the cathedral as all you need to do is to keep walking uphill. Since Sacre Coeur is built on the top of the hill, you can be sure that you will eventually get there. You will also find yourself climbing lots and lots of stairs, but that is OK. All worthwhile things in life should be earned. Although there is a funicular railway to the summit, that should only be for the aged and infirm. . Everyone else should definitely walk to the top.

    When you do reach the top of the front stairs you will be rewarded with one of the best views of Paris you can get anywhere. In fact I much prefer it to the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower as it provides a much more intimate panorama of the nearby streets and rooftops. Stretched out before you are the higgledly piggledy streets that make Paris so darn confusing for the first time visitor. Look higher and you will see hundreds of chimney pots adoring every building in sight. Look further afield and you can see the famous large buildings along the Seine - the Musee D'Orsay, the Grand Palais, the Louvre - and of course the Eiffel Tower itself.

    Tucked in behind the cathedral is the artist precinct known as the Place Du Tertre. Here you can always find artists willing to sketch your portrait for a few Euros, or sell you a painting of Montmartre for a few more. It is in this area that I found a little coffee shop with a tiny verandah tucked behind a grape vine. I have made this little cafe a mandatory stop on every subsequent visit to Paris and it is has become a favourite place for Maggie as well. It is a wonderful place to enjoy a coffee and indulgent cake while quietly watching the bustling crowds just a few metres away.

    After a lovely time at the cafe we began our long walk back to the left bank. Of course we could have caught the metro or bus, but we decided to walk instead. This gave us a good opportunity to revisit some other favourite places along the way. Our walk eventually brought us back to the Louvre and the magnificent Tuileries Gardens. I stopped here for a little while to watch the Gypsy thieves at work. I know it sounds a bit voyeuristic, but I do find human nature fascinating. Observing the way the Gypsies go about their scams and then magically disappear any time a policeman or security guard appears, really have to be seen to be believed. Of course the Gypsies always reappear just as quickly when the threat has passed by.

    The GPS told me that I had walked just over 10 km by the time that I arrived back at my hotel in the Sorbonne. It had been a perfect way to spend my final day in Paris. Tomorrow Maggie and I will be catching an early train to St Malo, where we hope to spend a very quiet 4 days.
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  • Sojourn by the Seaside

    11 października 2016, Francja ⋅ 11 °C

    Tuesday October 11th
    In Which we Sojourn by the Seaside

    Our four days in Paris went by far too quickly, but still served to remind us of all the reasons we love this place so much. This morning we packed up our belongings from our tiny hotel room in the Sorbonne and rolled our bags about 1.5 km to Montparnasse Station. We arrived in good time and settled down to wait for our platform number to be announced. The procedure is that the platform is announced exactly 20 minutes prior to the train departure time and this invariably results in a stampede of luggage wheeling travellers all trying to charge to their carriages at the same time.

    We actually would have made it easily if we had remembered to validate our tickets at the entrance to the platform, but we hadn't. By the time we remembered this important step we were already halfway along the platform and right in the middle of the stampede. I risked being trampled while looking after our luggage, while Maggie fought her way against the tide back to the validating machine.

    Finally we were reunited and in our allocated carriage. The only problem was that a couple of Canadian women were sitting in our seats. "Would you like us to move ?", one of them asked, stating the bleeding obvious. "Well yes", I replied, "these are our seats after all". They shuffled to their correct seats with much huffing and puffing and relocating of bags and other paraphenalia. Eventually we were all in the correct seats and ready for the 3 hour ride to St Malo.

    European trains are so far ahead of Australian trains that it almost seems unfair to class them in the same transportation class. This trip was no exception. It was serenely quiet, fast and smooth. The seats were comfortable and it was almost impossible not to fall asleep. Actually it WAS impossible and soon both of us were dozing peacefully.

    We arrived at the modern St Malo station and started to walk towards our hotel at the seaside. The weather was absolutely delightful with clear skies and no wind. The sunshine was actually warm on our shoulders and we were relieved when we found our hotel about 30 minutes later. We were even more relieved when the receptionist told us that our room was ready.

    I had ordered an ocean front room with balcony and we were delighted to find that we were only about 50 metres from the water's edge with an unobstructed view right out over the ocean.

    We could see several small islands not far off shore and the walls of the old city were only a short walk away. We even had a very friendly and extremely curious seagull waiting to welcome us to our room.

    The ocean was as smooth as the proverbial mill pond and in the near distance we could see the modern ferry departing for Portsmouth in the UK. In four day's time we will be catching that same ferry ourselves. Scattered out over the calm seas were a number of small pleasure boats and a group of sailboats conducting some sort of race. On the wide sandy beach there were a number of small dogs enjoying a frolic in the sand. It really was a picture postcard perfect scene.

    The rest of the first day in St Malo was spent wandering the old city and marveling at just how pretty this location is. At this late stage of the season, most of the dreaded tourist groups have now departed the scene, and we were able to enjoy the city in relative peace and quiet. This is a town that would be extremely easy to fall in love with.
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  • Maggie Becomes a Victim

    12 października 2016, Francja ⋅ 12 °C

    Wednesday October 12th
    In Which One of Us Becomes a Victim

    Maybe it was the spluttering lady on the flight from Budapest or maybe it happened on the train to St Malo. Somewhere in the past few days a single malevolent bacterium or virus had obviously found its way into Maggie's respiratory system and discovered that it was perfect place to raise a big family.

    The first indication I had that all was not well was when I thought we had discovered a walrus colony on the beach at St Malo. When I turned around I could not see a mustachioed walrus anywhere in sight, but I did see Maggie doubled over in a vigorous (and quite impressive) display of coughing. This did not auger well.

    "I feel really sick" she explained. "I think I caught the plague from somebody".
    This was not the way that I had planned to spend our time in St Malo.

    "Perhaps it will get better really quick", I tried to comfort her.

    It didn't. By the next morning she was sneezing and coughing in alternating sequences of respiratory contractions. We went in search of a pharmacy in order to get some medication. We eventually found one in the old city and she came out holding a large back of pills and potions, all inscribed with directions which we could not decipher.

    "You should always start by taking a BIG dose", I expertly advised. She obediently followed.
    "How can I measure the amount of cough medicine to take, when we don't have a medicine cup ?"
    "I can measure it with my eyes, I used to study chemistry about half a century ago".

    She swallowed down a huge dose (about half the bottle), rolled her eyes and asked to go back to the hotel. It seemed a shame to waste another perfectly sunny day in such a beautiful place, but I knew she was not well. We had no other choice. Let's both hope she gets better soon and also hope that I don't catch it as well (as I am a hopeless patient).
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  • Mental Images

    13 października 2016, Francja ⋅ ⛅ 11 °C

    Thursday October 13th
    In Which I fill my Mind with Images

    There is absolutely no doubt that St Malo is a spectacular place. The amazing wide sandy beaches are probably the finest I have seen anywhere in the world, and the sand has a fine consistency that makes it perfect for long walks or jogs along the coast. The shoreline is liberally dotted with offshore fortifications that give an insight into the rich history of this place.

    History is certainly something that St Malo has in abundance. Two thousand years ago this was the site of a significant Roman town called Reginca, and it has been a strategically important centre ever since. In the 17th and 18th century fortunes were made as the so called "privateers" (pirates sanctioned by the king, also known as Corsaires) patrolled the coastline demanding tribute from the passing English captains.

    Other fortunes were made by the prosperous traders of the area who built dynasties importing silver and other goods from South America.

    You can still see ample evidence of these prosperous times in the huge mansions in the old walled city.

    In more recent times St Malo was severely damaged by allied bombing during the second world war. In fact many parts of the old city were almost completely flattened. What you see today has all been rebuilt or repaired over the past 70 years.

    The coastline is subject to violent storms and has now been largely protected by a long line of massive stone walls along the north facing shoreline. There are some amazing photos of huge waves crashing over this wall, but so far the walls seem to have achieved their protective purpose.

    After a restless night, Maggie is still suffering from the effects of a bad dose of the flu (so much for the efficacy of the flu vaccinations we both had before leaving Australia). Since she is currently too unwell to get out of bed, I spent the morning having a long solitary walk along the beach. It was an experience that I will long cherish.

    Anyone who knows me, already would be aware that I love to take "mind pictures" when I am travelling.

    These are not just something that can be absorbed with the click of a button, but need to be built up over a period of time. Whereas a camera picture only captures what light travels in through the lens, a "mind picture" can include information from all the senses. In fact I often find it helps to close the eyes when taking such a picture, in order to give the other senses a chance to contribute more.

    As I propped myself against an old rotting post on the beach, I gazed around and tried to soak in every aspect of the scene. The smells of the ocean and the salty sand. The chill in the air of the late autumn day. The sounds of the waves lapping the shore and the distant gulls fighting over morsels of food. The cool sunshine filtering through the thin high clouds. The happy barking of two dogs chasing after a frisbee. The small grooves in the sand at my feet that had been made by some small marine creature. I really felt that I was in a special place and that I was so lucky to be here.

    I also tried to bring the image into clearer focus by recalling some of the events of the preceding seven weeks of this trip. In a very real way, every day of our lives is a product of every other day that has gone before it. The thoughts that were running through my mind on that beach contained so many recollections of events that we had shared together.

    I am now back at the hotel, sitting in the dining room and looking out through the window over the vast beach outside. A group of young children have unpacked kites and are watching them soar overhead. Somehow it seems to fit the mood of the day perfectly. Some days are just magic.
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  • Setting Sail on the Ghost Ship

    15 października 2016, Anglia ⋅ 🌙 11 °C

    Friday October 14th
    In Which we Set Sail on a Ghost Ship

    The 25,000 tonne MV Bretagne was launched in 1989 after a build cost of around 100 million Australian dollars. It plies the English Channel between St Malo and Portsmouth and normally carries around 2000 paying passengers. I say normally, but on this occasion in mid October, it was almost empty.

    We were somewhat sad to be saying adieu to St Malo. Although we had only had
    four nights there, we had very quickly fallen in love with its amazing sea views and charm. The incredible tides there mean that the entire appearance of the foreshore changes dramatically from one hour to the next. When the tide is in the sea looks like a unbroken expanse of water, but when the tide retreats it reveals dozens of small rocky islands. It must require a lot of skill to navigate such a waterway safely.

    After a short taxi ride from our hotel to the ferry terminal, we were surprised to find that the place was almost empty.

    We had expected long queues of passengers waiting to check in, but we were able to walk straight up to the desk without any wait. The same thing happened when it was time to go through the outward emigration control - straight up to the counter, get the passport stamped and through to security. There was no wait there either - or any security check either for that matter. When we walked our luggage to the XRay scanner, we were waved to ignore it and proceed directly to the ship instead. I guess we just don't look like terrorists.

    Once on board we were given directions on how to find our cabin. Yes, although the trip to Portsmouth only takes around 9 hours, it cost almost no extra to have a double cabin with full ensuite. We didn't spend all our time there, but it was a convemient place to leave our luggage and have a lie down.

    We were even more surprised to find that the ship was almost empty. Hundreds of luxurious arm chairs remained empty, the cafes and restaurants were deserted, the upper decks were devoid of passengers, it was almost eery. During the day they even had a series of floor shows in the large restaurant theatre. I felt sorry for the performers that I was the only audience member - and even I didn't stay for longer than a couple of minutes.

    The voyage itself was almost dead smooth. The first part was sailed in bright sunshine and we spent considerable time enjoying the warmth and fresh air on the upper deck. Later in the day the skies clouded over and a slight drizzle started. We figured it was just setting the stage for the English weather we were to get in the weeks ahead.

    We arrived at Portsmouth just a couple of minutes late at 6.10 pm, quickly passed through the deserted immigration check and jumped into a taxi to take us to our hotel. The room was a pleasant surprise and was much larger than the tiny rooms we had been getting used to on the continent. Tomorrow morning we collect our hire car and begin our exploration of the Jurassic Coast.
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  • Our Car is Missing

    16 października 2016, Anglia ⋅ 🌧 13 °C

    Sunday October 16th
    In Which Our Car Goes Missing !

    I suppose it was inevitable that in executing such an extended and complex trip, sooner or later something was going to go wrong. Up to now, it was remarkable that every arrangement, every booking had fallen exactly into place. We had completed the entire Odyssey Ride just how it had been planned to happen. Now Maggie and I were on our own, certainly nothing could go drastically wrong now ?

    Well actually it did.

    As part of our advance plans we had arranged to collect a hire car from Europcar's Portsmouth office on Sunday 16th October. I had even received a confirmation email from them just four day's earlier, confirming the collection details and informing me that they had already deducted the full rental cost from my credit card. Very efficient of them

    On the morning in question we booked a taxi to take us from our hotel in Southsea to the Europcar pickup depot. The driver was helpful and chatty and was happy to accept 10 pounds for the short ride
    "The place looks empty", Maggie commented.
    "No you will be OK, I drop people here all the time", the driver replied replied before driving away.

    We were left outside the office with our luggage. Rain had been falling most of the morning and looked about ready to start again.

    I tried the door. It was locked. The internal lights were off. Rising concern. Maybe we were just a little early. Maggie checked the sign with the opening hours. Someone had hand written "CLOSED ON SUNDAYS". I rechecked my details. They clearly stated that the car was to be collected at 10 am on the 16th October.

    We waited till 10 am. Still no one in sight.

    I tried ringing the Europcar rental number. My call was so important to them that they put me on hold for a long time (on international mobile call rates) before hanging up on me.

    OK, what do we do now ? Maggie politely reminded me of all the times that I had told her that I love the serendipity of travel. She now wanted me to practise what I preached. I was trying hard, but I was also angry that we had been let down. We had a written agreement that was apparently worth nothing. We didn't even have data access on our phones to search for other contact numbers. The only thing I could do was ring our hotel to tell them what had happened and to get them to arrange another taxi collection for us.

    By 10.30 am we were back inside another taxi and heading back to our hotel. Another 10 pounds wasted and NO CAR. The only positive thing I could be grateful for was that we had allowed for a second night in the same hotel. We had not planned to start driving till Monday morning. This gave us at least some extra breathing space in Portsmouth.

    Back at the hotel I tried to settle down and "look on the bright side of life". At least the weather had improved enough for us to take a walk along the beachfront to the nearby "D Day Museum".

    I paid the seniors entry fee and spent some time wandering the displays. They were tired and in major need of refurbishment and updating. The food in the cafe was deplorable - sad looking toasted sandwich, cold chips and stale cake. It fitted the mood of the day.

    Maggie was still recovering from the flu and walked back to the hotel while I wandered the beach, looking for a silver lining. It certainly did not come in the form of a lovely sandy beach. There was no sand in sight, just acres of rough stones. Even the impressive looking pier was closed down "for repairs". Compared to the magnificent beachfront at St Malo, our first impressions of Portsmouth left a lot to be desired.

    In the evening we walked to the strangely named "Gastro Pub" for our evening meal. It had been recommended by our hotel, although naming a restaurant "Gastro" did not auger well for the quality of the food. Fortunately the food was excellent and the place was clean and quiet. I hoped that things would go better the next day.
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  • Stonehenge is Closed Today

    17 października 2016, Anglia ⋅ 🌙 11 °C

    Monday October 17th
    In Which we Visit Mary but Stonehenge is Closed

    At 8.30 am in the morning I rang Europcar to explain what had happened the previous day. I said that I did not want to turn up at the rental office and find the same thing happening the second time round. "I will give them a call", the representative explained.

    Nearly an hour later I was still on hold.
    "I cannot understand why they are not picking up their phone", he lamely apologised.

    What an incredibly inept way for a large company like Europcar to run a business.
    Not only had I wasted the previous day and 20 pounds in taxi fares, I had also spent around $40 on phone charges and I still had no definite result.

    When the guy seemed unable to do anything, we decided that we had no other alternative other than to return to the depot and hope that it was going to be attended.

    Another 10 pounds taxi fare later we were back at the depot, with all our bags.
    At least it was open this time.

    I walked to the counter and explained the stuff up of the previous day.
    "I don't work here", was the helpful reply. Then why was she sitting behind the desk ?

    Eventually someone who apparently did work there appeared and explained why nothing could be done for me. I showed them the printed contract with the collection details on it. Finally we were offered 2 day's free rental (I will believe it when it is actually credited back to my bank account) and eventually we were sitting in a Vauxhall Mokka (what the hell is that ?) outside the depot.

    The first few minutes in a new rental car are always a little stressful, especially when you cannot figure out how to get the blessed thing started. Press this, push that, what is that beeping noise ?, how did I turn the wipers on ? What gear I am in ? And so on.

    Finally we were underway and making our way gingerly through the unfamiliar and very busy streets of Portsmouth.

    I had decided that our time would not be wasted entirely if we could visit the Historic Naval Dockyards. They were only about 6 km away and we had the expert assistance of Tom (actually Tom Tom the resident GPS).

    Tom directed us through a succession of interesting manoeuvres until we could see that we were nearing a naval precinct. "Turn Right Now", he ordered. I did what he instructed. I shouldn't have. "I don't think you should be here", Maggie helpfully suggested, adding liberally to my state of stress.

    The policeman windmilling his hands furiously also added to my stress as well. I stopped and put on my best "senile old fart" expression. "Is this the way to the Mary Rose Museum ?" I asked. "NO, you are heading straight into a military base", was his tert reply. The nearby sign proclaimed that the base was in a state of "heightened terrorist alert", so I probably should have been grateful they didn't fill the rental car with bullet holes.

    An embarrassed U turn later and a few more turns found us in the correct place. We were then able to spend a couple of very interesting hours exploring the HMS Warrior and the HMS Victory

    I have to admit that this was really fascinating, although the five foot ceilings in the Victory added some extra bruises to my ageing head. I should have worn my bike helmet.

    By 1.30 pm we decided that it was time to say goodbye to Portsmouth and head to our next port of call at Weymouth. I checked the route and noted that it was not all that far away from the famous Stonehenge. "It would only add about 70 km to our drive", I told Maggie. She didn't seem convinced, but soon we were telling Tom to take us to the famous stone circle.

    At least the drive gave us our first real look at the countryside of Hampshire and Dorset. Maggie made up her mind really quickly. "All these places look old and tired", she commented, "and the shops are disgusting". Fair comment, they were.
    Soon after 3 pm the road took us past the famous ring of stones. "Look Maggie, there it is".
    "Where what is?" she answered.
    "Stonehenge".
    "I didn't see it".
    Some days are like that.

    I drove on to find the official car park. It was a couple of kilometres further on. We turned in and were met with a CLOSED sign. The young guy at the entrance explained that Stonehenge, for some completely unknown reason, closes at 3 pm each day. What utter rubbish. Why on earth would such a famous attraction close at 3 pm ? Apparently it just does, they don't have to have a reason.

    We had no choice but to drive past a couple more times and view it from the road. It actually didn't look all that impressive anyway. I decided that it was just another "Rubbish Attraction" and that we could just as easily give it a miss after all.

    We asked Tom to take us to Weymouth instead. It was only about 80 km further on, every single one of them directly into the face of the setting sun. It made for very tiring driving, but eventually we safely made it to our next B&B in the tiny hamlet of Chickerell, on the outskirts of Weymouth. Fortunately the Heritage B& B was absolutely delightful and our room was probably the best we had stayed in for the entire trip so far. At least the day ended well.

    We had a fine dinner at the Turk's Head Pub which was directly next door to our B&B and retired for an early night.
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