tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44919600013892692292024-02-03T10:16:20.738+11:00A Rambling RoverA travel blog covering Caz's adventures in the United Kingdom, France, the United States, Canada, Finland, Germany and the Netherlands. (More to come soon - currently editing).Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.comBlogger89125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-31188636399431184502021-10-24T09:00:00.004+11:002021-10-24T09:00:00.186+11:00Conclusion: Take It Easy<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"></span></p><p style="font-family: Helvetica; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>Take it easy</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>Take it easy</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>Don't let the sound of your own wheels</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>Drive you crazy</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">- "Take It Easy" by Eagles</span></b></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">So much for trying to avoid exhaustion by taking a shorter trip! I ended up frazzled from trying to squeeze 4 countries into 23 days (including transit). But meeting S, my "sister", was the best decision ever. Okay, one of the best decisions ever. :P I've made a few excellent decisions in my life, shockingly enough.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">What did I learn from this adventure?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>1) Country hopping works best if you live in Europe and want to do something on the weekend.</b> Jumping from destination to destination without a break is exhausting. Spend more time in one place.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>2) Don't trust the GPS when it keeps trying to get you to take B roads.</b> That's if you want to get from A to B. Scenic routes are acceptable IF you want to take them.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>3) Hillforts are not just big hills</b>. Don't believe a word my husband says!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>4) Remember to type up your travel journal as soon as you get back</b>. I waited 4 years before attacking this one. I have some regrets. Mostly because I had to type up three other journals as well!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>5) Actually learn a few words of the language of your destination. </b>You might end up in Finland and actually look Scandinavian and people will assume you can understand them. *cough*</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>6) Driving on the opposite side of the road isn't that hard. </b>Just try to avoid ending up on the footpaths, okay?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>7) When using self-contained accommodation in the UK, expect to have to buy EVERYTHING, including garbage bags. </b>Things are a little different in Australia!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>8) Terrible people don't need statues or monuments marking the place of their death. </b>Yeah, nah. Germany literally puts carparks there instead.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>9) Your flight will either be early or late, never on time. </b>I guess planes are like Gandalf the Grey?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>10) Meet your Internet friends if you can. </b>Take the risk. You might just get along like a house on fire (or insert another suitable simile here).</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-488369857066770312021-10-23T09:00:00.004+11:002021-10-23T09:00:00.190+11:00Days 22 & 23 - LHR-DXB-SYD<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I enjoyed dinner at Pret A Manger at Heathrow Airport, then had dessert at the Pilot Bar with The Husband. I topped it off with what the menu simply listed as “tea” – it turned out to be the most boring (and most unsurprising) brew: English Breakfast!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfwfjj9eFh15NkMMVcvJPxlmmOA3NxHv9zizOzVAiH11V4iGB9yJz3wR_V4VPyhICeenCOslv5igj67EEzWOjcKlJqyBTFc_5KE_0MUZ2X7i-fKJ4nVfcL010BS3kGgkCLezdmit3zJmM/s800/day22.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="An aqua cup and saucer filled with tea, dusted by milk. A small silver teapot is just visible behind it." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfwfjj9eFh15NkMMVcvJPxlmmOA3NxHv9zizOzVAiH11V4iGB9yJz3wR_V4VPyhICeenCOslv5igj67EEzWOjcKlJqyBTFc_5KE_0MUZ2X7i-fKJ4nVfcL010BS3kGgkCLezdmit3zJmM/w240-h320/day22.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The mysterious "tea"</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We eventually boarded and headed for Dubai, where the plane took on fuel while we waited endlessly at Gate A2. A woman approached security while we were there. I took one look at her and thought of that Taylor Swift lyric - “I knew you were trouble when you walked in”. She just had that <i>look </i>to her.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">And I was right. Boy. I’m not sure why she felt that antagonising security (in <i>Dubai</i>,<i> </i>no less) was a good idea. I saw her later on the plane and wondered if I knew her from my supermarket days as an irksome customer. She had a sour, scrunched-up face.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Our seats were right at the back of the plane again (we didn’t mind – it was near the toilets and food stations), then looked over to see a very ill-looking man. He’d been vomiting from London and yet had got back on. After half an hour of us waiting endlessly on the tarmac, he and his wife decided to deplane. Their bags followed. Then, <i>finally</i>, we began the 13-hour leg of our journey.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Instead of watching movies and playing sudoku as I had on the first leg (I think the sudoku nearly caused me to fall asleep – a no-no when trying to get back onto Sydney time!), I curled up in my two seats with two pillows and two blankets. The plane was now even emptier than before and people were happily lying down with three or four seats to themselves. The Husband and I shared a four-seater, staying close to each other.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The flight didn’t feel endless. I liked the idea of us chasing tomorrow the whole time, but in winning we forfeited a day in the calendar.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We touched down at 5:33am, which wasn’t <i>too </i>bad considering the delay at Dubai. We filed out into the relatively quiet immigration area and deserted baggage claim. Only one flight had arrived – we were the first in! – so it was not at all stressful for me.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I declared the fox-fur scarf I’d bought in Finland – the customs guy asked me if I’d bought it because I wrote crime novels lol. I write romance, by the way. He then said “oh, one of these!” and since I hadn’t killed the fox, I could be on my way.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I always try to do the right thing! And I always get greeted by eyerolls.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Still, eyerolls are better than a fine.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Taxi home – where we couldn’t locate my brother-in-law at first, but then we saw him sleeping underneath the dining table!?!? Lol!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Anyway, I’m doing the laundry while The Husband naps. He does not possess my ability to sleep on the plane.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I had fun overseas, but I’m glad to be home!</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-74164515158332276442021-10-22T09:00:00.007+11:002021-10-22T09:00:00.203+11:00Days 20 & 21 - Heathrow<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day Twenty</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Breakfast was a little later than we expected. The Husband had a “full Cornish breakfast” and I opted for continental, though was surprised when food started arriving at our table – breads, pastries, cheeses, meats! All very yummy stuff.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We encountered difficulty with rolling our suitcases to the carpark because the wind was so strong – it felt like I was ramming my suitcase against a brick wall!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMndBuaRKyViCNFiGUWO3daSpL6w2UD7AXcNKwXb3Xzbcl8pqd6dV6ySwNTw8gwf4bRtIxQ2VAwZaReREb8T9rrjJDpRMuqphtIV3bEHcPxIqGqHQee2F5CtNWvIiXrGCK9Uc7EjRLNBE/s800/day20.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="Rolling green gullies (also rocky cliffs) lead down to a misty sea in Cornwall." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMndBuaRKyViCNFiGUWO3daSpL6w2UD7AXcNKwXb3Xzbcl8pqd6dV6ySwNTw8gwf4bRtIxQ2VAwZaReREb8T9rrjJDpRMuqphtIV3bEHcPxIqGqHQee2F5CtNWvIiXrGCK9Uc7EjRLNBE/w320-h240/day20.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We bid adieu to this grand view</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We stopped at two Services on our way to Heathrow (Troll GPS took us there via Bristol!), though these breaks didn’t seem to stop my butt from going number and then aching – in that order. I’m not sure how that works either!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">At the first Services, I bought water and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Our cashier loved my “I can’t adult today” shirt.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">“Some days I can’t,” I told her honestly.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The second Services provided us with lunch – The Husband had Burger King and I optsed for Starbucks (a chilli beef/rice thing!). We then encountered dismal (but not world-ending) traffic. It seems that just like other airports, Heathrow is difficult to drive to, especially on a Saturday.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">But at least we left the motorway, seeking petrol. We found it and ditched our car at the rental place. Within minutes, we were on the company’s shuttlebus to Terminal 5 (with two employees), where we were able to snag a taxi.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The hotel near the airport was a sight for sore eyes. This will be the first time I’ve stayed a night here! I usually only use their day room feature.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We asked for late check-out, purchased breakfast and then went upstairs. Somehow The Husband coaxed me into a nap and now I’m looking forward to room service.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">***</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day Twenty-One</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The waiting for our flights tonight has begun. We woke after 8am, then went down to the breakfast buffet which was pretty decent.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I edited photos, queued them up on DeviantArt and managed to nap for a bit. Lunch in the bar area followed – I had some crumbed chicken and tasty spring rolls. The food was delayed by a cold grill and the cleaning up of breakfast.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">More napping!! It’s now approaching 4pm and I’m a ball of nerves about this 24-hour transfit.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Wish me luck. :)</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-31462893563822814202021-10-21T09:00:00.013+11:002021-10-21T09:00:00.218+11:00Day 19 - Port Isaac & Tintagel<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We packed up to leave Coram Tower but hit a snag; we wanted to take the rubbish out, as there was a fair bit of it. But no garbage bags had been supplied! Welcome to self-contained accomodation in the UK.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I mean, honestly, I get why there was only one roll of toilet paper, but no garbage bags? Who brings those on a holiday? And why should we buy a pack of 50 when we only need one!?</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Ugh. So we opted to leave the rubbish where it was. We dropped off the keys at Wessex House (a very tight carpark – the couple pulling up behind us to do the same definitely wasn’t good for my nerves). And then we were off, heading from Dorset to Cornwall!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We intended to stop at a Services, but oddly we didn’t find one for 40 minutes – so unusual for England! I had a brownie and a deluxe hot chocolate. Our cashier commented on the amount of chocolate I would be consuming.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Our bellies and fuel tank full, we again hit the road – and rolled our eyes at the many Services we were now encountering. At least 3 in 20 minutes!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I thought of Jon as we drove past signs for Castle Drogo, Britain’s youngest castle and featured in my <a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com/2013/12/day-31-devon.html" target="_blank">2013 travel journal</a>. Troll GPS, unsurprisingly, took us down an awful, tiny B road lined with moss-covered walls – as opposed to another B road that had plenty of room to spare. Eek!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I had wanted to go to a certain carpark at Port Isaac. Troll GPS decided to take us there via its sister port, Port Gaverne. Good God, that road was tiny, tense and terrifying. I felt as angry and out of sorts as Doc Martin did in the first season of his TV show – and, well, that show was the reason we came here.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Port Isaac doubles as Portwenn in the series <i>Doc Martin</i>. It looked lovely on my TV screen at home. I had no idea how gorgeous the place is in real life.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Parked the car, paid for the privilege, braved the 20p toilets – and then just gawped at the Atlantic Coast. The excellent weather magnified the natural beauty before us. It looked like someone had tossed wooden park benches all over the coast in this part of Cornwall – incentive to trek out to them, I wonder?</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSWkftbgp6xz5mA4SmBc97qo0U2wEZ2Goj0WYPqhfxusDZQkr_2khhKMzjg8PL3UxtQConbcbHm2rvZh19hdaDLGkld_RZ0yH7BirKe3IitKp1PRBg2z-7r7HVklh9ccL1qSiseFWh2zQ/s800/day19b.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="The Cornish coastline - vibrant green grass atop grey rocks. The water is aqua in colour." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSWkftbgp6xz5mA4SmBc97qo0U2wEZ2Goj0WYPqhfxusDZQkr_2khhKMzjg8PL3UxtQConbcbHm2rvZh19hdaDLGkld_RZ0yH7BirKe3IitKp1PRBg2z-7r7HVklh9ccL1qSiseFWh2zQ/w320-h240/day19b.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Whoa</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We ambled down the tiny, crooked streets of Port Isaac. Navigating them on foot was difficult for us, but even more so for the cars and vans sharing the same space. The road we followed bent and sloped down towards the beach, taking us past the Old School Hotel and Restaurant, which acts as a primary school in the TV show. Here there were takeaway shops and an exquisite view of the cove beneath us. There were stone breaks keeping the boats safe from the ocean waves.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The cliffs standing over the startlingly blue/green water just made it all the more jaw-dropping – and, of course, we could see Doc Martin’s house all the way across the cove. It looked like it stood an eternity away from us!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYnPfmgiGzmL0QJEpwHmJ2lZSchmmk1gz8df0w3nmmfWaP1fvnTSj4rBI9E7L6HZTNcTI_b1G08VYfwaZbb66uoCWxJJz0Bg7L7P-2l3ZciwsqFhNHtaH06tPgw5Hpk0GUqCiSEF_2Qc/s800/day19.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYnPfmgiGzmL0QJEpwHmJ2lZSchmmk1gz8df0w3nmmfWaP1fvnTSj4rBI9E7L6HZTNcTI_b1G08VYfwaZbb66uoCWxJJz0Bg7L7P-2l3ZciwsqFhNHtaH06tPgw5Hpk0GUqCiSEF_2Qc/s320/day19.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I spy a grumpy doctor's house!</span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It wasn’t that far, though. The roads we followed weren’t very long in the end. I did feel like we were being squeezed by the tall buildings on either side of the street, but soon enough we could see down to the (sandy!) beach. <i>Again </i>a great view. The Port Isaac Lifeboat Station was nothing special, though it was offering basic refreshments and proudly bore a sign proclaiming that it was in Portwenn.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We slipped through the narrow opening that had been the basis of me cancelling our rental of Doc Martin’s house – I’d feared I wouldn’t be able to get the car through the gap, but in person (i.e. not on Google Street View) it didn’t seem so bad. There were nearby 20p toilets.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Up we walked (it was a gentle incline) to the house made famous by television. It’s smaller than the large house beside it, but the stone exterior makes it look so friendly. Happily, there were very few people around (one woman apologised and quickly darted past while I was lining up a shot – nice of her), so we were able to pose for photos and just generally enjoy the two-punch of the house and its great view.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkUGkDLcw0fFOwg7nM2Hka4xcr1_m9xteBtiycCoUB4w7sxjE0bjuttwTNMe6jOJ3iC59gCYPh_sbnZRaezxTbrJ7wkqQDE_wOpd72DSdM7NcA3aRPpPHRt0-YNsc5K8VzZz-uvGMCZ0g/s800/day19c.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="The house from Doc Martin - a two-storey, brick cottage with five windows at the front, set around the door." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkUGkDLcw0fFOwg7nM2Hka4xcr1_m9xteBtiycCoUB4w7sxjE0bjuttwTNMe6jOJ3iC59gCYPh_sbnZRaezxTbrJ7wkqQDE_wOpd72DSdM7NcA3aRPpPHRt0-YNsc5K8VzZz-uvGMCZ0g/w320-h240/day19c.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We almost rented this house!</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Finally, we left. The deed was done. One item on the bucket list crossed off.</p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">We passed a pack of enthusiastic tourists on the way down – whew, I love our timing!</p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">The pasty shops we came across had nothing as exciting what we had in Lyme Regis (it seems Dorset makes better Cornish pasties than the Cornish!), so we settled on chips and nuggets at a place near the Old School. We then lingered on a coastal path leading back to the carpark, eating chips while we admired the beauty of Port Isaac (taking one last look at Doc Martin’s house, of course).</p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Husband observed that he likes Lyme Regis more. I’m not sure. Port Isaac may have scary roads but it’s hills aren’t so steep. Plus it is waaay prettier.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We were stalked by an opportunistic seagull (passers-by kept remarking, in amused voices, about our feathered friend – I got sick of it after the fifth person commented!) until I ran at it with a shout. Thus freed of the interloper, we returned to the car.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">BUT it was still way too early to head for Tintagel, so we went to a nearby café for drinks. The café sold a multitude of <i>Doc Martin </i>keyrings and postcards. It seems the townsfolk like to make a buck off the popularity of their town. I don’t blame them! And they are nice people.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Finally, time to go to Tintagel!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The roads weren’t terrible – and we avoided the worst of them by ignoring our deranged B-road-loving Troll GPS. Some careful driving later and we were at Tintagel. We found our B&B easily enough. And I managed to get the car through the tiny entrance (bordered by posts) to the driveway – only to discover that there were no freaking spots left!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Sigh. Finally, in a nearby carpark I struck gold – 3 pounds for a whole day, which isn’t too bad.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We tried to find our way to Tintagel Castle, first walking east on Atlantic Road, but then we found two English Heritage signs.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">“Castle this way,” Sign #1 informed us.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">“Yes, really,” insisted Sign #2. Lol!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">These signs successfully turned us back in the right direction. Before we descended to the castle, we paid for our tickets and I was given old 5-pound notes as change (at 12pm today, you could no longer spend them – damn it, now we have two!).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Down, down, down we went…to a picturesque meeting of the land and sea.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">More magnificence – Cornwall really knows how to put on a show! The wind threw water in our faces: an undignified welcome. We didn’t dare attempt Merlin’s Cove – the tide was more assuredly in.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrb760bkwlvV5aMlkJJkNz-I1fYYjp7CDBkWWlsc3nd7bDexC2N3r-5c7dYHUZlQvPREPUKyLjcYcalLg3r1_AmuQIGRl8SWZJtVBnUaU3uo9skL4KTDRe0NHLDO8ZExdBI20336ERWA/s800/day19d.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="A closer view of the Cornish coastline - still very similar (green grass, grey rocks, aqua water)." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrb760bkwlvV5aMlkJJkNz-I1fYYjp7CDBkWWlsc3nd7bDexC2N3r-5c7dYHUZlQvPREPUKyLjcYcalLg3r1_AmuQIGRl8SWZJtVBnUaU3uo9skL4KTDRe0NHLDO8ZExdBI20336ERWA/w240-h320/day19d.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Cornwall is gorgeous</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I looked up, up, up at the ruins on the great cliff above us and was awestruck. <i>This </i>was a place of legend.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We began the treacherous climb, passing by the staffed gate, then continued on. With a handbag and camera out, it. was a struggle for me – especially with people coming down the narrow steps. Finally, we made it to the lower section of the castle. The jagged rocks revealed the age of the ruins, but they weren’t old enough to have been here during King Arthur’s time (and both time and man are disputed by historians).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39snp26be3mXk-KLsDtRXM6a7KPurwptDLaY8KqlHJMIrX_8-Xls6QJHAAFy92LTJN9O446xc4w7t1DX909u7vBsnC6lV9oAezxPNwQn_LCP9JZ9tj9sUAbJkEpffCT-cRa0K_G0ygxc/s800/day19e.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="Part of the 13th century ruins of Tintagel castle. A wall remains with an open archway and lots of small "windows"." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39snp26be3mXk-KLsDtRXM6a7KPurwptDLaY8KqlHJMIrX_8-Xls6QJHAAFy92LTJN9O446xc4w7t1DX909u7vBsnC6lV9oAezxPNwQn_LCP9JZ9tj9sUAbJkEpffCT-cRa0K_G0ygxc/w320-h240/day19e.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Open wide, you're still outside</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">This section was ordered built in the 13<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century by the Earl of Cornwall – he knew of the Arthurian legends tethered to this mammoth seaside rock and, I suppose, wanted to some of that shine to rub off on him (side note: Arthur was supposedly conceived here).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The castle fell to ruin. And no one lives there now. Well, the earl lived on and ruled Germany. So maybe the legends did empower him in some way.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We climbed up more stairs, battling increasing winds, to view the clumps of stones that heralded Dark Age ruins. There wasn’t much to see. I wondered how hard it would have been for people to move about outside the buildings up here – the wind shoved at me, knocking me aside. Thank goodness I wasn’t pushed in the direction of the “sheer cliff”!!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It was literally a breathtaking view. I struggled to breathe.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_n7JO1I9_KsFyHCF3HxdlOeOK56v6Em-EJ2aYO0ARFGYkbvjC_Rxu78L55ptU614Ods9TO9NVx6dogfT8KlfSlzRujjv3yN64VkGxVa9BaaLXECHSVoIyQFX8oQdXMCBl7oxPRIVUAY/s800/day19f.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="More Cornish coastline - same colour scheme of green grass on grey rocks beside aqua water - but taken from TIntagel Castle." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_n7JO1I9_KsFyHCF3HxdlOeOK56v6Em-EJ2aYO0ARFGYkbvjC_Rxu78L55ptU614Ods9TO9NVx6dogfT8KlfSlzRujjv3yN64VkGxVa9BaaLXECHSVoIyQFX8oQdXMCBl7oxPRIVUAY/w320-h240/day19f.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Forget the castle - how about that view!</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We took selfies, but my wild, knotted hair covered my face and transformed me into Cousin Itt! We descended shortly after this, taking note of the Great Hall which had a sign promising us that it had been much larger once, before erosion gobbled up some of it. The main keep, too, is thought to have met the same fate. Superb views and defensible positions are great and all, but this is a major flaw for a building site.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I sat inside the cosy shelter made for Florence Nightingale Richards, who was the gatekeeper and guide in the 19<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century (also named after a certain woman, it seems!). No lick of wind dared to enter her shelter.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">After this bracing adventure, and the climb back down the stairs, we settled in at the Beach Café. I was in dire need of tea! We had to break a larger note, as our old 5-pound notes would not be accepted.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We could have 2 quid each for a Land Rover ride to the top of the hill, but decided to walk since the weather was so fine.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We found our rooms at the B&B without hassle, though we had to carry the suitcases up two flights of stairs. It was 4pm and I’d spent some time sitting in the sun in the garden, waiting until someone would appear to check us in. Obviously that someone did show up. I wasn’t too bothered; the sun had revived me.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Sea view – lovely. Room – far too hot, thanks to the radiator! We had to turn it off and keep the window open all night.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We sought dinner at a nearby pub. I ordered the curry of the day (a child handed me cutlery and sauces lol). The Husband had a local pale ale and I a piña colada.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We made it back to our room at the B&B and watched <i>Sailor Moon.</i></span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-62987008180807027382021-10-20T09:00:00.001+11:002021-10-20T09:00:00.211+11:00Days 17 & 18 - Lyme Regis<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>Day Seventeen</b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The day began slowly. We stayed on the couch for a while, then managed to get ready after 10am and plod our way down to the Cobb, an artificial harbour constructed in the 19<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th </sup></span>century.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Cobb has stone-built piers either side of an opening that warns boats to be “DEAD SLOW”. It has been repaired and improved since Jane Austen visited this place, but a lot of it she would have found familiar. Once we descended the steep hill and negotiated some traffic, we saw it for ourselves.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It was very windy this morning, so my hair went everywhere and The Husband pointed out the sign cautioning us not to go onto highest part of the Cobb (it sloped, could get quite slippery and had no railing between pier and undulating sea).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViBObNGazTid122gJKekVN0vimIrZ7HvDOnZ7X-bsnuwaLODIYh8vmfWUvWpL-BC7V4bcQiL91eCgkFswDDmA5e81O_XAuKVsIC3Sudq0uH0VZp7Y1Cc6lG5R-YPbyL2Y4da19Uitevo/s800/day17.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="The Cobb at Lyme Regis gently bends around to the left. Bench seats line the wall." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViBObNGazTid122gJKekVN0vimIrZ7HvDOnZ7X-bsnuwaLODIYh8vmfWUvWpL-BC7V4bcQiL91eCgkFswDDmA5e81O_XAuKVsIC3Sudq0uH0VZp7Y1Cc6lG5R-YPbyL2Y4da19Uitevo/w320-h240/day17.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Take a stroll into the Regency era</span></div><p style="font-size: large; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The view, though, was lovely so I had to get up there, however briefly – and briefly it was, as I do not like to worry The Husband (he is not a strong swimmer).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Clouds smeared the horizon, but it was still pleasant and I must have uttered the word “beautiful” at least 6 times.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Lyme Regis isn’t that different from any other English seaside town I’ve visited; however, it has its place in literary history. Much like Whitby in that respect, I suppose. Whitby was made famous by Bram Stoker; here it was Jane Austen.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I looked at some stairs on the pier and fancied that they were the ones that Louisa fell down in <i>Persuasion.</i> Unlikely, though, and “Granny’s Teeth” certainly didn’t qualify either – these steps had the appearance of rotted, jagged teeth worn to the gum – for they came after Jane Austen’s visit to Lyme (Regis). They were probably added <i>because </i>of her book.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMwqrhKFfg6JAGaQ9V_ouRV9IXGss5HSQseoCt4iaUEiRKbs8zM9UUKIwGqJcUgoF0sk06Tbq1uYgwHGKI8oOSss1Pb-Q413EJ3HLDte1pHc4a21kuYz9qFHxu7a8xqqCj5lE9hJXD-Hc/s800/day17b.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="Granny's Teeth - steps that look like staggered slabs sticking out of the wall. One could imagine them to be teeth." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMwqrhKFfg6JAGaQ9V_ouRV9IXGss5HSQseoCt4iaUEiRKbs8zM9UUKIwGqJcUgoF0sk06Tbq1uYgwHGKI8oOSss1Pb-Q413EJ3HLDte1pHc4a21kuYz9qFHxu7a8xqqCj5lE9hJXD-Hc/w240-h320/day17b.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Granny's Teeth</span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We walked along the beach (sand was divided from pebbles by a cement break) and then headed back up the hill towards our home, albeit on a different road than the one we’d used on our way down to the water earlier.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We passed by Pyne House, 10 Broad Street, where Jane Austen is said to have stayed. It was much smaller than I expected. But beside it was a similarly small shop boasting that it was “bigger on the inside”. That, and Pyne House’s blue door, made me exclaim, “It’s a TARDIS!”</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Fancy that, Jane Austen in a TARDIS.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">For lunch, we went to a pasty shop (there were three of them on the same stretch of road!). Good food – and a large hot chocolate – revived me.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">In my clutches, from earlier browsing, I had fudge and gemstone jewellery. I can’t help it! They are my vices! And I like quaint shops in quaint towns. Plus, I needed that pendant to match two sets of earrings I own. And as for the earrings I bought – I do not have any that are blue goldstone! Well, I do now.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Back “home” to relax.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">PS: Tesco is still closed! They looked to be dismantling the whole shop.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">***</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>Day Eighteen</b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">A day of relaxation. We did nothing until lunchtime, when we again sought sustenance in The Cornish Bakery. I love pasties! Oh how I will miss munching through one before attacking a frothy hot chocolate.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Most of the day has been spent watching <i>Sailor Moon</i>. Lol. I am really enjoying it.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkooMdkMR3Ksw5RARb73c0l9QWQ-iVwjI9IN1OyzYqbpN94RxAaGwBxjO3asV9nNG2DqaXkWWA84F-vVVoB5fr03Q6zL6uKBEXPtNNf1WTKNboQOPoPjLakE9dCQzt6-fGk6n9Ie18xfQ/s800/day18.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="A mug of tea, a small round cake and origami (swan and balloon) are arranged on a glass table." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkooMdkMR3Ksw5RARb73c0l9QWQ-iVwjI9IN1OyzYqbpN94RxAaGwBxjO3asV9nNG2DqaXkWWA84F-vVVoB5fr03Q6zL6uKBEXPtNNf1WTKNboQOPoPjLakE9dCQzt6-fGk6n9Ie18xfQ/w240-h320/day18.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Idle hands lead to relaxation</span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-91088770021476094352021-10-19T09:00:00.000+11:002021-10-19T09:00:00.221+11:00Day 16 - Maiden Castle & West Bay<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Woke up at 7:17am very suddenly and with a gasp – I’d forgotten where I was and I’d been sprung from a strange dream in which ships full of zombies circulated the globe. No one took this fleet seriously, despite my warnings, and soon there were very few governments left in the world. They soon all fell. And I had to hide from the entire human race.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Our adventure began at about 9am, when we set out on narrow roads (well, mostly safe A roads, but the last stretch was hairy) to find Maiden Castle. I’d neglected to tell The Husband that it was an abandoned hillfort, not a castle of the stone variety.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">“It’s just a big hill!” he exclaimed, disappointed and thoroughly unimpressed.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">But to me it was pure gold. An ancient settlement! Immense defensive earthworks! Seeing the hillfort on foot doesn’t do it justice, I think – aerial photos I’d looked at earlier revealed how amazingly big it is and how much work went into this thing.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It was a bit of a hike up to the western entrance, but so worth it. We encountered confusing paths and deep ditches that were supposed to stymie attackers. Sadly, these impressive earthworks could not keep the Romans at bay. They defeated the inhabitants and moved the main settlement to where Dorchester is now (“chester”, of course, indicates that it was the site of a Roman fort).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The hillfort was covered in sheep and shit. Signs with useful information were sparse and, at this time of day, humans were sparse too. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We traipsed up onto a “wall” (one of the many impressive ridges surrounding the enclosure, which would have been full of people) and enjoyed the epic view. Wow! You could see any army coming at you from there. We could also see a nearby burial mound.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEmmzC3RADcx_bxrqZbXtPa5fw1kaEnL-VSQjRCz_0vt0tikdZL5iIiIRDTwV-B9ppv-9ysN8YeoFu506L0W7XDIuOfb5hFldlmv49_5_e0sUOCDLLZt82PVFxILyqe8nwmiPorTUSZ3Y/s800/day16.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="Grassy earthworks (a ditch between two rises) beneath an overcast sky." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEmmzC3RADcx_bxrqZbXtPa5fw1kaEnL-VSQjRCz_0vt0tikdZL5iIiIRDTwV-B9ppv-9ysN8YeoFu506L0W7XDIuOfb5hFldlmv49_5_e0sUOCDLLZt82PVFxILyqe8nwmiPorTUSZ3Y/w320-h240/day16.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Not just a big hill</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We left, bound for West Bay and hopefully some public toilets!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">A spot for the car was easy enough to find – West Bay wasn’t busy yet at 11am and we were able to make use of the parking on Station Road, on pebbles that revealed just how close we were to the beach. That and the dune at the end of the carpark!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">After using the (frankly scary) toilets, we walked down to the water’s edge. The Husband stopped many times to shake stones out of his shoes, a somewhat comical sight. It <i>was </i>hard to slough through the stones, though they were smaller near the waves.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Jurassic cliffs have such a different look to other parts of the country we’ve seen and they are beautiful, if scruffy looking (and they do lose chunks at times, so we were careful!).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I posed for a photo there, at the foot of the cliffs, as many others were doing. Of course, this is where Danny’s body lay in the first episode of <i>Broadchurch.</i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: large; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzFKm4JOENJ0j4b_rjNMFxN4GX47FuPEfT5qJZNvIyhaptPmOBTpHG53Pm47SlT69fhW14HudIK-vTqrhjCIIHudQGQFPOk2UYbrnv_hfmWbImfjMiGFus5GGe30Ug5xS6BjQinJG4MLE/s800/day16b.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Jagged, sand-coloured cliffs belonging to the Jurassic Coast in West Bay" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzFKm4JOENJ0j4b_rjNMFxN4GX47FuPEfT5qJZNvIyhaptPmOBTpHG53Pm47SlT69fhW14HudIK-vTqrhjCIIHudQGQFPOk2UYbrnv_hfmWbImfjMiGFus5GGe30Ug5xS6BjQinJG4MLE/w240-h320/day16b.png" width="240" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Paging David Tennant</span></div><span><span style="font-size: large;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p></span></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I had a hankering for ice cream, so I bought too many scoops (“Serious Chocolate” was the name of my choice) and beamed, licking my treat, as I explored the town I’d come to know as </span><span style="font-family: arial;">“</span><span style="font-family: arial;">Broadchurch</span><span style="font-family: arial;">” </span><span style="font-family: arial;">on the TV. While we ate fatty lunch food from a vendor (she saw me with the ice cream and laughingly asked if I was having my pudding before my tea!), I rang Mum who was very jealous as she likes </span><i style="font-family: arial;">Broadchurch </i><span style="font-family: arial;">too.</span></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I found the show’s “police station” – just apartments in real life. How amusing. Though The Husband did say he could see how it doubled as a police station, because of the concrete stairs in front of it.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Husband finished his own ice cream as we navigated our way “home”. We spent the afternoon watching <i>Doctor Who </i>and occasionally enjoyed the view we have of the bay from our rental.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I think I’m finally relaxing. :)</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-30392877465605731452021-10-18T09:00:00.008+11:002021-10-18T09:00:00.217+11:00Day 15: AMS-LCY<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Woke early again. The neighbours were a little noisy last night, but they quietened down after midnight. Breakfast was ready when we went down. Again, I availed myself of the sprinkles and bread. Then it was time to go.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We waved off the front desk’s offer to get a taxi (apparently they <i>can </i>make it up the street) and instead made for the taxi rank. A good choice – vans were unloading in the street, thus blocking any taxi that would have tried to go to the hotel. The drive wasn’t too bad, even in peak, and we were at Amsterdam Airport Schiphol super early.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Check in went well. Bag drop went well. Boarding passes let us into the security area. All kept going well.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Then disaster struck.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We bookended a seething queue of people, a mob that seemed to stretch into infinity. My anxiety began to gnaw at me. The pain in my shoulders and back from my heavy bag compounded the problem.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I squirmed, unhappy, miserable, unable to break out of my exponential panic. We were never going to get out! The people were pressing in around me! We merged with yet another queue, then finally we go through security. A woman gave me a pat-down, which sparked my dislike of being touched.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">A whole hour had passed since we’d joined the queue. And now it was time for passport control. Ugh – none of the chip-reading gates were open, so hundreds of people from multiple outgoing flights were squished through a handful of staffed gates. We got into the fast-moving EU queue (British passports at the ready) and watched many people get turned away from the “premium” queue before they desperately joined our queue instead – I’m sure some people missed their flights!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I started having the stirrings of an anxiety attack. I must have looked awful because a security guard came over to ask if I was okay!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>Finally</i>, we made it out, with much less time to kill than usual. But I still had an hour to drink a hot chocolate and eat something sweet. I’m glad we always arrive at airports 3 hours before our international flights, even in Europe. What a disaster that could have been.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The flight to London City Airport was as packed as the Heathrow one. I couldn’t fit <i>any </i>of my hand luggage overhead due to too many people bringing on those bulky mini suitcases. Squished all my stuff under the seat in front of me.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Though we left late, we landed a whole minute early – which made it feel like we’d never left Schiphol, because London is one hour behind Amsterdam and the flight time is less than 60 minutes!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We escaped with our suitcases to the car rental place, where it take agggges for them to release a car to us (they had a newbie on the front desk who looked like he had no idea what he was doing). I’m glad we booked ahead – a group of men beside me, who’d only booked that morning, wanted a small car and ended up with a minibus!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The woman overseeing the newbie was concerned that we had a lot of luggage, but we wanted a small car (and managed to fit everything) to get through tiny country lanes.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">After some mishaps (the GPS was stuck in French and I didn’t know where the parking brake was), we got on our way, hoping to go around the city.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Our Troll GPS had other ideas.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It started okay. But then I looked out the left window and saw the Tower of London!?! Oh shit! We got tangled in the streets of downtown London and the GPS tried to make us drive down <i>The Mall</i>, even though it was closed. Mayhem!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Somehow we ended up free in Hammersmith. I worried about the congestion tax, but later discovered that it’s a bank holiday, so no tax was required (and that’s why The Mall was shut!).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Whew.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We recovered in a Services on the road to Salisbury. It looked very familiar – I realised I’d been there 4 years ago on a tour to Stonehenge.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">And I saw Stonehenge again.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It looks oddly small as you drive past it, though the stones are actually quite large in person. I was reminded of <a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com/2013/11/day-3-stonehenge-lacock-bath.html" target="_blank">my trip in 2013</a> and smiled. I am so fond of those times Cazy and I shared together.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">A huge traffic jam was outside the Neolithic monument (coming from our direction), but it was not there because people wanted to see Stonehenge. No, it was the end of a long weekend and everyone was queueing to go home.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Troll GPS returned to take us down questionable B roads. We came across families with prams and they crossly told me to slow down – I was bemused to see them in the middle of nowhere. I’d rather people didn’t cover an entire road when they’re walking in a pack, since there would have been ample room for the car if they’d kept to the sides. It wasn’t my intention to annoy folk; I had kept to the signposted speed until they appeared.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The GPS then nearly killed us on a route that took us <i>across </i>the A road we needed. I was honked, narrowly avoiding disaster, but how could I have seen any cars coming around that blind turn? Ugh. Driving in England is…harrowing, to say the least.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">But at last we came to Lyme Regis. Yay for narrow lanes that induce heart attacks!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Having just read on the plane the bit were Jane Austen’s characters in <i>Persuasion </i>enter Lyme (the Regis came later), I felt like I was walking – er, driving – in the footsteps of fiction and history.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Picked up the rental keys and fumbled our way to Coram Tower, a historic building with a fucktonne of stairs. Why oh why did I rent the apartment with a view? In such an old building, no less!?</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPbwwSufjUM-RNL2655ZyOuExA8cr149pzEL-6-dfiSOIN2xsJZAe1V4P8WsSapsylEREpjX8D_MAYCxcMA2-GshoDzCRh3RAXAl8DhQ7j0M7dfMSVSPSbKOgowFUF__NPnY8NDvS93Eo/s800/day16.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="Coram Tower, a late 19th century building which was been converted to apartments." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPbwwSufjUM-RNL2655ZyOuExA8cr149pzEL-6-dfiSOIN2xsJZAe1V4P8WsSapsylEREpjX8D_MAYCxcMA2-GshoDzCRh3RAXAl8DhQ7j0M7dfMSVSPSbKOgowFUF__NPnY8NDvS93Eo/w240-h320/day16.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Coram Tower - starring STAIRS</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">A trip to Tesco revealed the bank holiday that had been chasing us from London. The shelves were a bit bare (the Tesco will be closed tomorrow in lieu of today – we were grateful!) but we managed to get what we needed, including toilet paper!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Then we settled in for the night, watching <i>Top Gear </i>on BBC iPlayer (this place has a TV, so we assume it has a TV licence!). The apartment is quite draughty, owing to gaps between the glass windows and the stone sills, but radiators help with that.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Not a bad place to stay.</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-36252592652740748742021-10-17T09:00:00.007+11:002021-10-17T09:00:00.219+11:00Day 14 - Amsterdam<p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Woke at 7am, having actually had a good night’s sleep, despite our hotel being inside the Red Light District (our room’s position on the third floor may be what’s keeping the sound out), we got up and got ready for the day’s events.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We had to wait downstairs for a few minutes before the buffet opened at 8am and amused ourselves by examining the wall in the foyer, which was decorated with fake books (barely an inch long) on fake shelves – one of the fake books was even loose.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I was delighted to discover that in the Netherlands it’s perfectly acceptable to spread sprinkles on your bread of a morning – in fact, they even sell portion-sized packs! It was one of these that I used on my breakfast, as well as a hot chocolate from a machine. A pretty decent spread for 8 euro each! And now I’m wondering if Australia’s fairy bread tradition harks back to immigrants from Holland.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then it was time to find our way to the Anne Frank House. We arrived by the same roads that the Nazis paraded down when the Netherlands capitulated (they had decided to remain neutral at first, hoping this would save them from Hitler – it didn’t).</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaspeu4ARKoMOTF48pr8FTQ7fKrMg200HlqpKamga2jOISet8q77Dupq0YU2OloHZ3qSa6K8E6hQuKymH4hIhFziZmgHwfCv5HlmREU0-RthwCc96aots4Z3TXXX143BF2hlya8NnraI/s800/day14.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="A street in the Red Light District in Amsterdam, narrow and lined with shops and hotels." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaspeu4ARKoMOTF48pr8FTQ7fKrMg200HlqpKamga2jOISet8q77Dupq0YU2OloHZ3qSa6K8E6hQuKymH4hIhFziZmgHwfCv5HlmREU0-RthwCc96aots4Z3TXXX143BF2hlya8NnraI/w240-h320/day14.png" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Daylight District</span></div><p></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was cold in the shade and there I was in one jumper, trying not to shiver. We were too early for our 9:15am slot. We watched many people get turned away and told to try again at 3:30pm, when online ticketing gives way to walk-ins. Waiting there, I could see nearby buildings that Anne Frank saw, heard the church bell that she had heard (well, not the exact same one, since the original was melted down in WWII for the war effort).</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The time came to go inside. We were once again delayed, however, by the four women in front of us who needed their tickets sorted out – they had only printed one ticket instead of all four. They were pulled out of the line so we were able to move again.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As I entered through the secret door (behind a reconstructed bookcase) and began to ascend the steep stairs, I was confronted with questions – did Anne feel similarly challenged by this space the first time she saw it? Did her knees hit each step as she climbed the stairs?</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The house was <i>packed</i>, but I enjoyed seeing the rooms mentioned in Anne Frank’s diary, including where she slept and wrote her pages. What a small, cramped and dingy place that formed her retreat, but brought to life by the “movie stars” she stuck on the wall.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was fascinating, matching the other rooms to my memories of the book, recently read. I treated it a bit like a puzzle. But then I saw a photo of Otto Frank (Anne’s father and the only one of eight fugitives to survive), standing at the secret annex by himself in 1960. Alone.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I bought some items in the gift shop and walked outside, fighting tears.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“It’s not fair! It’s not fair!” I said, clutching The Husband.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I always hope that the ending to Anne’s story changes.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But it doesn’t.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Back to the hotel, then we were fortunate to almost immediately board a canal tour near Amsterdam Centraal station (which, according to recorded voices in 4 languages, was built in the 19<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century on a manmade island).</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We bought water from a vendor and just generally enjoyed the ride on both rivers that had been altered into canals. I had a great seat, one with a moveable window, so I took many snaps outside, though we were on the opposite side to the Anne Frank House.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Earlier, on our way to the Anne Frank House, we had seen removalists using a ladder-esque motorised platform to move someone out of their apartment. Then we noticed hooks set into the top of each narrow, listing house and thought rope must run through the hooks to help unload/load when the stairs won’t take your furniture – the audio tour confirmed our theory.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Land was in very short supply here in the 17<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century onwards, so that is why the houses are so tall and teetering. We saw a house that was less than 2 metres wide – and parts of the original medieval fortifications.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5w2EfaqdgZgdE-YQTrbgrVUkHFGIbA55r86OtQeP9-e0Q4fp-d885gZwCkNLM65SwzrKj4DL1LVxjwL2fwmgzSBODVYCkQBxkQbKHOc4rc3DM4IKQWKxmwZCxsHfXDz-vJfBpXAMjwd8/s800/day15.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Narrow, tell houses in Amsterdam, as seen from a canal." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5w2EfaqdgZgdE-YQTrbgrVUkHFGIbA55r86OtQeP9-e0Q4fp-d885gZwCkNLM65SwzrKj4DL1LVxjwL2fwmgzSBODVYCkQBxkQbKHOc4rc3DM4IKQWKxmwZCxsHfXDz-vJfBpXAMjwd8/w320-h240/day15.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A typical Amsterdam view</span></div><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The city wall is gone, now replaced by those tall houses, but it once ran along the opposite side of the canal, performing the purpose of a moat. Some towers remain, such as the one called “Crazy Jack” (18<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century additions included extra levels and a clock, which always ran on a crazy time), but they look odd and out of place.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We returned to the square where we’d set off from and acquired food. Well, first I had a chocolate-smothered waffle, which I ate while grinning at a cat (I’d seen it roaming the street yesterday). It was curled up and sleeping in an adult shop window, surrounded by vibrators.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lunch (proper lunch!) was found at an Asian “pick your own noodles, extras and sauce” place. Pretty good food, giant portion sizes.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We walked down to Crazy Jack to get better photos of it and discussed whether or not the old wall would have kept the Nazis at bay. In the end, we decided no, because walls were old technology – and tanks would have made short work of them.</span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: Arial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Back to the hotel.</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-62700610687669928842021-10-16T09:00:00.009+11:002021-10-16T09:00:00.204+11:00Day 13 - TXL-AMS<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The day began with me wishing we could stay in our junior suite forever, followed by the usual shower, then breakfast, then the horrid realisation that I’d had an allergic reaction to the shower gel. I was miserable.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">So I itched (and scratched) as we were driven to Berlin Tegel airport, where mayhem and polizei greeted us.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The taxi driver was able to get us to Terminal D, where our KLM flight would be taking off from. We checked in and went through security, wondering what was going on – curiosity and anxiety peaked when evacuation orders came for Terminal B. Worried, I checked online (using Google Translate). Turns out someone had left their suitcase behind in Terminal B, sparking bomb concerns.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I once again had to remove the troublesome Uggboots for security. My shirt, which reads “I can’t adult today”, bemused one of the security guards who asked his colleague for a translation.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZadNwO2xA0qtSoN-_gfeWE8tSCPjqCmF8JCLJlWj9KqHS9sCYAQHK4ncCayhRhbP23GP12cgfL8kWhNPqxuq_0Um_5CGu_GE6o-J5UbLIYtCdt5fDVYWD8VSoi-y3yBkTOtwbjrK5yPE/s800/day13.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="A white cup and saucer with a T2 teabag dangling inside it." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZadNwO2xA0qtSoN-_gfeWE8tSCPjqCmF8JCLJlWj9KqHS9sCYAQHK4ncCayhRhbP23GP12cgfL8kWhNPqxuq_0Um_5CGu_GE6o-J5UbLIYtCdt5fDVYWD8VSoi-y3yBkTOtwbjrK5yPE/w240-h320/day13.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Bored, I Instragrammed last night's tea</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We boarded the plane on time (despite them moving the gate twice – we got there in the end) and all seemed well. But no – the number of people on the plane did not match how many had swiped their boarding passes.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">So we sat there, bored, while they tried to figure it out.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Much to our confusion, the stewardess asked us all if we were going to Amsterdam. Yes? But two passengers were listening to their headphones instead…so it was a while before the mystery was solved.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Then it was discovered that these two passengers had scanned their tickets in a neighbouring queue before going down the wrong tube to the wrong plane. They should have been heading for Paris! I am not sure how they managed that – even though the gates and tubes were side by side, ours was beside the wall!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">So, at last, 30 minutes late, we departed for Amsterdam.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The flight went well. Some snack food. And we only landed 15 minutes late! I always feel ill when pilots make up time on flights. This was no exception. Happily, everyone could make their connecting flights.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We found a taxi (after some confusion) and he was very chatty as well as aggressive on the roads – but he had to be. Cyclists seem to be the dominant species in Amsterdam. The road near our destination, however, was choked with pedestrians. Our agitated taxi driver took us as close as he could to our hotel (we later discovered a closer taxi rank), which left us slogging through the Saturday evening crowds, wielding suitcases instead of a more persuasive bumper.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Happily, we located our 3-star hotel easily enough (though my arm was sore from wrestling with 18kg of luggage). It’s not a terrible place to stay – unlike the streets outside, which assaulted me with noise, bodies and confusion.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We sought sanctuary from the rabble in an Argentinian BBQ joint. Seated by the front window, I felt safe and happy there, away from the chaos of Amsterdam. To me, it seems worse than New York City. Well, it <i>is</i> Saturday…and Amsterdam is quite popular for a weekend visit.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Many old couples and families came into the restaurant, seeking sanctuary along with us. I had duck, but it was so charred its provenance was unidentifiable.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Checked out the supermarket we found and then retired to our small room and its HDMI-capable television set.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i>Sailor Moon </i>formed our entertainment and somehow I could not bring myself to write this entry on its appropriate day.</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-57818438292224455832021-10-15T09:00:00.000+11:002021-10-15T09:00:00.203+11:00Day 12 - Berlin<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I met J in Sydney during NaNoWriMo in 2015. I had hoped to meet her in Hamburg this trip, but she obtained an internship in Munich after we’d made bookings. So alas, we cancelled our Hamburg plans and added two extra nights to Berlin. Oh well, I thought, we’d see each other another time.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">J had other ideas.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Though I implored her that I wasn’t worth the effort, she said “yes you are!” and booked an overnight bus to Berlin for 25 euro.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">She arrived at 5am. We staggered out of the hotel at 8:23am and met her at the McDonald’s that I could see from our hotel window. We began with an enthusiastic hug!</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Husband in tow, J and I headed for a nearby café to catch up over hot chocolates. She insisted on paying! But we would repay the favour later. The café’s chairs made me feel like a child.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">After 9am, J took me to a nearby shop, advertising its great notebooks. Sadly it had changed a bit, but J found a book and I some ribbon (purple with white polka dots).</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Onto Museum Island! Alas, the Neues (New) Museum was still closed and the queue for tickets kept on multiplying. We sat on some steps, among columns riddled with bullet holes from WWII, soaking up the sun. I took a few photos and a few seconds of GoPro footage.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Eventually, we gave up and decided to go for a walk.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKV26ghTjRa4RS5lOU78ztLFcOYxK2ny2j8bw04QMa_Gw6yWMkDAbP6BQOdGZwbOBDumRU_mbhZ833nRZQqGsik5cTVADh0bzk1j0gpHofJ8E2pQcoQU1GIDSa3gN7ud9tPWBGKrRZF4/s800/day12.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="Looking south down the Spree, Berlin's main river. On the right is Museum Island. In the distance is the TV Tower." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKV26ghTjRa4RS5lOU78ztLFcOYxK2ny2j8bw04QMa_Gw6yWMkDAbP6BQOdGZwbOBDumRU_mbhZ833nRZQqGsik5cTVADh0bzk1j0gpHofJ8E2pQcoQU1GIDSa3gN7ud9tPWBGKrRZF4/w320-h240/day12.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Berlin doing its best to show off</span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">After we crossed back over from the island, at the Bode (Boat) Museum, we sat beneath our hotel for much-desired ice cream. An earlier search had proved futile – in a park with archaeological “lumps and bumps”. The park originally contained buildings that became ruins in WWII.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Lunch was obtained at Peter Pane, a burger place which had wonderful décor. Wooden curves arched above us, low-lying lantern-esque lights lit the scene and faux trees added some greenery to the cosy space. The food was good too. I had a mojito (before midday!) and it made me warm and chatty.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">J and I spoke of NaNoWrimo, the importance of hashtags in social media and J’s love of Top Deck Cadbury chocolate. I must send her some!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It took an age to get the bill (The Husband settled it, despite J’s protests), though I hardly minded the wait, given how far I’d come to see my writing pal. We bade each other farewell outside the hotel.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I’ve spent my time since reading <i>Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl </i>(it saddened me so much when I read it as a child), in preparation for our visit to the hideout in 2 days!</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-17335631500577917652021-10-14T09:00:00.009+11:002021-10-14T09:00:00.207+11:00Day 11 - Berlin<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Today I achieved a childhood dream.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Let me explain. G, my father’s friend, had an artefact in his living room that I loved as a child – a piece of the Berlin Wall. I was enamoured with it and feared that I would never go to Berlin myself. My parents couldn’t afford it and obviously I would never be able to afford it either.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Through my childhood, imagery of the wall coming down was constantly replaced on television (usually during those “we’re there when the news happens!” reels). I was a few months old when it happened. As a child, I couldn’t imagine why people would let such a wall divide them, but I also remember the sense of <i>wonder </i>I felt that people could come together and reached for freedom as one unified force.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">So with this in mind, we went back to Checkpoint Charlie this morning, hoping to avoid the crowds (I’d rung Mum already and she’d sounded a wee bit envious).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The sign is a recreation, its original in a nearby museum, but it did bring to mind the opening sequence of <i>The Living Daylights</i>, starring Timothy Dalton as James Bond – how unchangeable the situation must have appeared in 1987.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggULoc0V2Ai9nqeJsl5fbVUlwsy1QR7tXdQBnViCL35pwWiUTSbvGIpmu9s1p7eRzAM6xwoIaEsHfcaqFHVcrCPW503A3_yKNiJClWx98iaPUdkFD-kPsmgak5aW8Vxnx340GL3P5214Y/s800/day11b.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="A small hut-like structure sits in the middle of the road, a replica of what was there during the Cold War." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggULoc0V2Ai9nqeJsl5fbVUlwsy1QR7tXdQBnViCL35pwWiUTSbvGIpmu9s1p7eRzAM6xwoIaEsHfcaqFHVcrCPW503A3_yKNiJClWx98iaPUdkFD-kPsmgak5aW8Vxnx340GL3P5214Y/w320-h240/day11b.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Naww but it looks so cute</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It wasn’t all that fascinating, if I’m honest. But I did pop into the nearby tourist shop.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">And my God, they had pieces of the wall for sale. They looked exactly like the one G had in his living room. They were accompanied by certificates of authenticity and sure, it’s hard to tell the origin of every wall souvenir and some of the real ones have been painted post-collapse – but that’s not exactly the point.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I selected a large purple piece (a smaller one for Cazy) and bought it, finally achieving the impossible dream.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We returned to Brandenburg Gate for better photos, but alas the tourists were already out in droves at 10:40am. We enjoyed our second visit there regardless and went back to Checkpoint Charlie.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYsa6MjbDxuQnvr67X0kbLHaw2lRs3ybR8CG3By30o3F91Qd8-rZ0isQMvv-fC6B0iQsS0vNKNArTrwp42wXlx6gE3pHEpy1CBw87dKdQdBvPRpfhmySL4kQvuF5lm_qEISaMNyI6D9c/s800/day11.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="The east side of Brandenburg Gate, including a small statue on top of a chariot and horses. A large group of tourists line the bottom of the photo." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDYsa6MjbDxuQnvr67X0kbLHaw2lRs3ybR8CG3By30o3F91Qd8-rZ0isQMvv-fC6B0iQsS0vNKNArTrwp42wXlx6gE3pHEpy1CBw87dKdQdBvPRpfhmySL4kQvuF5lm_qEISaMNyI6D9c/w320-h240/day11.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Towering over tourists</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Our destination: KFC! It provided a free WC and food – the chips here are more like fries, ugh. But The Husband wanted to eat KFC at the same time as his brother, as it is his brother’s birthday. My brother-in-law was having it for dinner in Sydney.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We crossed back over into East Berlin, passing a group of bright orange-clad monks taking photos of each other (they had actually been on the same flight as us from Stockholm).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It’s so easy to walk around Berlin as it is so flat. But I was done. We stopped by a supermarket and now we’re happily ensconced at the hotel.</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-53386495488310900122021-10-13T09:00:00.014+11:002021-10-13T09:00:00.225+11:00Day 10 - Berlin<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We started the day with breakfast – Nutella, pancakes <i>and </i>mini doughnuts made their way onto my plate. I noticed that the breakfast buffet had a half-empty bottle of champagne with 6 flutes beside it. I was baffled, though The Husband wasn’t – this is Germany, after all.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We headed out at 10am. Destination: Hackescher Markt station. Here we would meet up with our guide, Jonathan (the tour company boasts on their website that they were the first to offer English tours of the city). Jonathan announced that it was his birthday and received well wishes. Then he remarked that we Sydney-siders would be cold, but there I was, the only person stripped down to my shirt – we told him that Finland had been colder.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Jonathan took us to a nearby park and gave us a rundown on Berlin’s history. I had vaguely heard of these things over the years in school. Suddenly, however, Prussia made sense; suddenly I understood the background of <i>The Living Daylights</i>; suddenly it all felt very real instead of facts on a page.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-eOVTyez3yKrrSF6k8bkTFMmCxDP7U-Z5Zth6w438rY3Va_KU-2WzQol2jX94pCJB4mZnkmE-gf-o623m6CGDuNPJJ2KlDiqXySQPvgl3Cbg3VaY7-Ub5ild5QGbaI2nHl2aUH4NIZ8/s800/day10.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="A scene from a park in Berlin, grass and trees in front of a waterway which is in turn in front of a building. Blue sky." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE-eOVTyez3yKrrSF6k8bkTFMmCxDP7U-Z5Zth6w438rY3Va_KU-2WzQol2jX94pCJB4mZnkmE-gf-o623m6CGDuNPJJ2KlDiqXySQPvgl3Cbg3VaY7-Ub5ild5QGbaI2nHl2aUH4NIZ8/w320-h240/day10.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Cooler than it looks ;)</span></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Berlin is no longer divided, but the city is still shaped by its past. The famous TV Tower was built during the Cold War by East Berlin and Jonathan says it was as much an antenna as it was a show of power, easily visible from West Berlin.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Buildings in Berlin vary greatly in style – elegant buildings from the 19<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century, brutalist 1960s structures, cold Nazi buildings, modern glass works of art. It’s quite a mix.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Jonathan was very friendly and genuinely nice. He took us over a bridge to Museum Island, which is crammed with museums and stonework studded with bullet holes from WWII. They kept the holes as a reminder – much is kept in Berlin from that era for the same reason.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">History must not be allowed to repeat itself.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBQMVdTASpkpqraOEQkQEEdses5WjPqR-EjMHugCUH9IE3jOTlpS5DEIIeI5sFRAdvlqsm0l4A1fscxEZpAvhUMksG684del8A-kNZcxhZ_SRA_39tPVRpz9ouTtA5JElreqZalhha9U/s800/day10b.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="Greek-style columns on Museum Island, riddled with old bullet holes." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiBQMVdTASpkpqraOEQkQEEdses5WjPqR-EjMHugCUH9IE3jOTlpS5DEIIeI5sFRAdvlqsm0l4A1fscxEZpAvhUMksG684del8A-kNZcxhZ_SRA_39tPVRpz9ouTtA5JElreqZalhha9U/w320-h240/day10b.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Riddled with history</span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">After pointing out the apartment belonging to Angela Merkel (Chancellor of Germany and “the most powerful woman in the world”), Jonathan led us to a courtyard where we had a great view of the TV Tower and Berlin Cathedral, which is built in the Catholic style despite servicing Protestant worshippers. Some ruler or another decided that they wanted it to resemble St Peter’s Basilica, so the old cathedral was razed to make way for something new.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We stopped by Neue Wache, a memorial dedicated to victims of war (well…now, at least – who it’s dedicated to has changed depending on propaganda). It is currently fenced off so an entry ramp can be built. Inside is a statue of a mother cradling her dead son. It’s moving, though I had to peer at it through bars.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Quite a lot of Berlin seems to be under construction or having a facelift at. the moment. It detracts from the experience, but not by much.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Jonathan showed us an elite university where only your marks will get you in. It’s only 300 euro a year to attend! I wish we had something like that (paying admin fees only) in Australia, because I would have done the correct degree to start with.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We explored the exteriors of some nice buildings and then admired a memorial to the book burning that occurred on May 10, 1933. It’s located in Babelplatz, outside a university, and has the rather evocative title of “The Empty Library”. The memorial is marked by a window in the ground which allows you to look into an inaccessible room below that holds empty shelves, supposedly enough to hold all the books that were burned.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">This made quite the impact on us. To be able to <i>see </i>what was lost…</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We then made our way to Gendermenmarkt, which was a lovely square – from what we could see of it. We couldn’t enter it as emergency services and cameras were milling about. We discovered later that they were filming a German action movie there.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Onto Checkpoint Charlie! Except it was <i>flooded </i>with tourists. We hung back during our tour “break”, using the WC (and paying 50 cents for the privilege – I went in twice, but the attendant let me in for free the second time, presumably because he felt bad for me and my tiny bladder).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_vDb_M_fpnmrdx5TzpADLSOsYE9a7_VokNPihf4fbvGxqmMyjvnkzwGeNHdEkaid5etawh9yiscGSVETn9F5h6nXvgH2yLoXu-LqNiHBul_gVkSg_9zqGQmRd_Yn1ftqab0pa59wiq0w/s800/day10c.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="A replica of the old sign that used to stand at Checkpoint Charlie. Writing is in English and German." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_vDb_M_fpnmrdx5TzpADLSOsYE9a7_VokNPihf4fbvGxqmMyjvnkzwGeNHdEkaid5etawh9yiscGSVETn9F5h6nXvgH2yLoXu-LqNiHBul_gVkSg_9zqGQmRd_Yn1ftqab0pa59wiq0w/w320-h240/day10c.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A photos sans tourists!</span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Jonathan returned after 20 minutes and told us that Checkpoint Charlie would have stretched quite a bit further down, not just this small section. It once fed into the US sector in West Berlin, so we were amused to see American fast-food joints on that side of the road.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Jonathan pointed out some colourful pipes, saying they were laid down to aid the removal of groundwater from construction sites, since Berlin is atop a swamp, and then painted to look pretty – pink, purple, yellow and so on.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Next we visited a remaining section of the infamous Berlin Wall. It looked thin and small, almost insignificant, and appeared quite dirty. People took selfies, smiled, crowding their way along the wall, which was quite at odds with the past – for we were in No Man’s Land.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Husband had observed that the wall looked easy to climb. But Jonathan showed us a diagram of what lay in No Man’s Land: spikes, barbed wire and watch towers. All so that East Berliners did not leave for greener pastures in the West. No one likes to lose the key workers that can hold up their economy, after all.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The wall was completely dwarfed by a massive Nazi-era building across the road. My God, it was the coldest, most depressing structure I’ve ever seen in my life. I half expected Indiana Jones to sneak out one of the doors. This is the Detlev-Rohwedder-Haus (Detlev Rohwedder House), built in the 1930s when it became its life as the House of Ministries. It now houses the German Finance Ministry, having escaped damage in WWII. Jonathan says its continued use is due to Germany’s “don’t forget the past” mindset.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">He then showed us a mural on the building, completed in the 1950s to show an ideal socialist depiction of life, but it was here that an uprising took place in 1953. Now a photo from that day runs in front of the mural, blown up to match its length – this is supposed to show the socialist reality.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">What a behemoth of a building, with so much history beneath its large shadow.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nYATOqqqobSb608rSclWPjINIynHWWOu_1j15RRRRvplE23Bx-dCpPQzoF_pWS0arnWc2wuRNoplQv4HGoXcJ9r7JGzg-xu3DDoUsRKnfhLP5qh1GjL1EHxaNJyymdbJao3FWiiWfnM/s800/day10d.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nYATOqqqobSb608rSclWPjINIynHWWOu_1j15RRRRvplE23Bx-dCpPQzoF_pWS0arnWc2wuRNoplQv4HGoXcJ9r7JGzg-xu3DDoUsRKnfhLP5qh1GjL1EHxaNJyymdbJao3FWiiWfnM/s320/day10d.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Well, I'm intimidated</span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Jonathan took us to where Hitler’s bunker had been in 1945. Hitler had holed up there, waiting for the end, marrying Eva Braun before both of them took cyanide. His body was dragged out and set alight. Here, in what is now a carpark in a residential area (no glorifying this spot, thanks), he died. His jawbone was taken to verify his identity.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Jonathan was adamant that Hitler definitely did die then and there, conspiracy theorists be damned. A nearby Modern History teacher from Australia (we are everywhere!) stopped Jonathan to ask about the tour and then pointed out the corner where Hitler’s body was hung.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Soviets destroyed the bunker, as well as other landmarks of Nazi Germany. I think this was a very good idea.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It was fitting that our next stop was the Holocaust Memorial, where you are not allowed to smoke or stand on any of the stone slabs. This memorial reminded me of a cemetery – all those stones. They were uneven, stoic grey and grew in height as we descended into the memorial, until they towered over us. Anonymous, insurmountable, mournful witnesses.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">They made me think of the stolen and destroyed tombstones in Jewish cemeteries during the Nazi era. Names of the dead – lost. The dead – so numerous that there were not enough gravestones.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Husband’s interpretation of the memorial was a bit different. He saw the stones as obstacles to the Jewish people. The stones grew in height and number until they could no longer be overcome. Obstacles that dominated and destroyed lives.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We emerged from that city of stones, a little unsettled.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDCWJYI5AMJKiuy4L18n7UTpklsYGaqJ-WCtdgh4-c3xQ9ZFdgkj4Wwbbo3ltXz5SH7f5W_vUJBAsNXHD-VRbt_DKi-JOGXNFZ-phbqhzkeqi_0ESEz5p8UW6FE_WvgaI0fzNzGB3zW1c/s800/day10e.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDCWJYI5AMJKiuy4L18n7UTpklsYGaqJ-WCtdgh4-c3xQ9ZFdgkj4Wwbbo3ltXz5SH7f5W_vUJBAsNXHD-VRbt_DKi-JOGXNFZ-phbqhzkeqi_0ESEz5p8UW6FE_WvgaI0fzNzGB3zW1c/s320/day10e.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Thought-provoking and eerie</span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Jonathan said that there is no one interpretation of the memorial. As we walked away, it was impossible not to stand on the stones that were only squares set into the pavement.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">At last, at long last, we were at Brandenburg Gate. An awing sight! Once, armies marched through it – Napoleon, then Hitler. Well, why not? It’s a pretty impressive gate!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Bricks marked out a line nearby in the road, showing us where the wall had been. The gate lay alone and unused during the Cold War era, directly in No Man’s Land.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">A popular destination – the Starbucks has a massive queue!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Jonathan bade us farewell. We tipped him – it was his birthday, after all, and he was superb!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Husband and I enjoyed bagels, then went back to the hotel rest. I accidentally ended up napping, though this didn’t cause us to be late to the TV Tower. It looks like a shiny disco ball on a stick!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT5OO72xeWkLBcWaVMBUQct4-l4NOOv7K3qArKbLpclzsrDAiy5ADzeOk9IR1V_gJC_Rc1GsyftkiOki-xZbQYjCNeNkjFzTvvBX4YahAKJSzXEoZmkUYHZ-ox9OtbnIORvrA8bJ3nIC8/s800/day10f.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT5OO72xeWkLBcWaVMBUQct4-l4NOOv7K3qArKbLpclzsrDAiy5ADzeOk9IR1V_gJC_Rc1GsyftkiOki-xZbQYjCNeNkjFzTvvBX4YahAKJSzXEoZmkUYHZ-ox9OtbnIORvrA8bJ3nIC8/s320/day10f.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The view from below!</span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Security demanded we keep our jackets on, which was weird. And then said jackets had to be hung up in a public (<i>very </i>public) coatroom while we were in the restaurant a whole floor above it – anxiety alert, right? Oddly, I was okay.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Well, I did have a cup of tea. Maybe that’s what made me so calm.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Dinner was nice, if pricey. We had the best views in Berlin – a 360-degree cityscape was spread before us as the restaurant gently rotated its way around the tower. One side of the city was particularly nice to look at (or maybe I just have a soft spot for Brandenburg Gate!). I left the GoPro running, so I’m excited to see the footage later.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We ate, left, found the gift shop and bought wares. Much fun! Then back to hotel. Oh, we also popped out briefly to a supermarket.</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-39158494992133764382021-10-12T09:00:00.007+11:002021-10-12T09:00:00.221+11:00Day 9 - HEL-TXL<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We began the day staring out the window, at the blowing snow outside the hotel, wondering if our flight would still take off or be delayed. But we could hear other planes leaving the tarmac and The Husband seemed sure that things would go smoothly – and they did.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">By 2:05pm, when our flight was scheduled to leave, there was not a speck of the white stuff to be seen. I managed to find a matcha latte (!!!) at the airport for 6 euro. I think they used a decent powder, judging by the price and taste.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The flight was short, so Business class was non-existent. The turbulence was the only thing that didn’t make me feel like throwing up. It would have been quicker to fly direct to Germany, but we used a booking agent who secured cheaper tickets this way. I think I’d prefer paying the extra to go faster, to be honest.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We stopped over in Sweden’s major airport in Stockholm with only euro in our wallets and no SEK. I was the first to notice the different currency on the price tags. Still, I managed to use my credit card.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Another short flight (80 minutes to the previous 60 minutes), another bout of fighting nausea, then we were on the tarmac in Berlin.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">First, two buses had to show up and take us the terminal, then we were smooshed through a narrow entrance so an <i>Inspector Rex</i>-like sniffer dog could check us out…and then the waiting began. It took over 40 minutes for the belt to even start moving. Our bags showed up, allowing us to head off to our hotel. The Husband credits the ease of his conversation with the taxi driver to my meticulous, printed itinerary which has hotel addresses in large text (in the local language as well).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">So! It was easily figured out where we needed to go, everything was going great – until we arrived at the hotel. We were first asked to wait – and wait we did, in lobby chairs. Then came the offer of a free drink. Hmm.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The service manager came out (his name is David) and admitted that the hotel had overbooked! It was due to some sort of system error, but that didn’t change the facts. There was no room at the inn.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">“This is not okay,” I moaned.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">So we sat down for a free dinner while David rang around the nearby hotels. He got us a place at a five-star hotel for one night only. Sigh, okay. We kept eating. Then – miracle of miracles! – someone had checked out early. From a junior suite! We were delighted. David wanted to send something alcoholic to our room as an apology, but we’re not big drinkers. He did agree to our request for Coke Zero.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">So up we went, us with suitcases and David with a champagne bucket filled with ice and 4 glass bottles of Coke Zero, surrounded by small lollies!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FmISLx8yZ5nFkc2EcVyeid9HgTp924IH7QqlH_egkqt0OZ-w3YMaWEDMplTIeLmRJSzXn2DnapiyOaLdkDpAyPd7WkFJNFeFHiuUwX9gH98urTPYpxBwOcf8npHruslms5sVWu6BVS0/s800/day9.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="A champagne bucket containing mini bottles of Coke Zero." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FmISLx8yZ5nFkc2EcVyeid9HgTp924IH7QqlH_egkqt0OZ-w3YMaWEDMplTIeLmRJSzXn2DnapiyOaLdkDpAyPd7WkFJNFeFHiuUwX9gH98urTPYpxBwOcf8npHruslms5sVWu6BVS0/w240-h320/day9.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">An acceptable apology</span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p></span></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">What an evening! We watched <i>Resident Evil </i>on Netflix (through the TV with an HDMI cable) and just generally enjoyed ourselves.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">All thanks to David’s tireless efforts.</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-12132438394712145332021-10-11T09:00:00.001+11:002021-10-11T09:00:00.216+11:00Day 8 - Nokia & Helsinki<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Eight people awaited us at breakfast today, so I was able to have <i>two </i>croissants and <i>two </i>glasses of apple juice. Then, despite my heavy heart, we checked out and headed over to S’s house for the last time. A squirrel greeted us before immediately running away. At least my GoPro recording session yesterday was not a waste – yay!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We drank some tea (white tea with raspberry flavouring) and chatted, stretching out the minutes in a bid to make our final meeting last forever. Then we headed off for an early lunch at Pizza Koti. We bought a pizza burger (with free drinks!), but it tasted…odd. S and I had 2 pieces each. The Husband had 4!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7UX7o7ectgM4ilaP7DNbucTYRe4VayV4RMPNG7WD-EvlGECFqTN4qaFDuVEO1J0scdkNBxGSK9XcSqo71FpT7vulFC9kB2Bz8k2-e97Ocbs4rgfVUSP2lH6JaGpGZWMV6-qfkU8j9HDg/s800/day8.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="A mug of tea in front of a teapot. The mug has a Moomin character on it." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7UX7o7ectgM4ilaP7DNbucTYRe4VayV4RMPNG7WD-EvlGECFqTN4qaFDuVEO1J0scdkNBxGSK9XcSqo71FpT7vulFC9kB2Bz8k2-e97Ocbs4rgfVUSP2lH6JaGpGZWMV6-qfkU8j9HDg/w240-h320/day8.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A Moomin mug, naturally</span></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Took S home. Made excuses to keep hanging around. Squirrels were seen. When S went to the bathroom, my eyes filled with tears and I hugged The Husband, saying, “I don’t want to go!”</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">But we had to. So I hugged S. We took one last photo. Then she waved us off as we set out for Helsinki airport.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">On the way it snowed a bit, which was a little nerve-wracking but still manageable. We somehow stopped at the same service centre from our journey in the other direction. The Husband was unable to fill the tank completely lol. Then more driving…and more driving…</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Finally, Helsinki airport appeared. Dropped our bags at the nearby hotel, hit the petrol station (we were served by a guy who filled the tank and told us where to take the rental car – when asked by the cashier if the guy should get an extra euro, The Husband said yes), then parked the car in a rental car company’s space. We found the desk, returned the key and took the covered walkway to the hotel (huzzah!).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The room is nice enough for one night and it’s still vaguely light at 9:30pm. We had dinner at the airport to save money – I ended up in Starbucks with couscous and yoghurt stuff, as well as a grande hot chocolate. Watched <i>Blade </i>on Netflix.</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-9023072246541804422021-10-10T09:00:00.005+11:002021-10-10T09:00:00.218+11:00Day 7 - Nokia<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">After a late night (noisy neighbours, quietened only by intervention from reception), we were confronted with a <i>packed </i>breakfast room. Used to sharing this space with 2-4 other souls, we were now fighting almost 100 of them. Queues for juice and all the good food had been sourced by locusts in sports uniforms (and their parents). We escaped to a laundromat in the outskirts of Tampere. Now used to the cold, I only wore on jumper over my shirt.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Woefully unprepared to translate Finnish, we weren’t sure which machine was a dryer and which one wasn’t. We fed 6 euro into a washer only to cancel it and lose our money, panicked that it had started turning because that’s what a dryer does, right? 6 more euros restarted it. Then I discovered that we had free wifi and used that to translate signs, successfully locating the dryers. An elderly couple tried to help us, but they only knew Finnish. Nice people, though. They left when their rugs were washed, presumably to hang them up at home.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I chatted to my brother, Cazy, on my phone and then rang Mum. When I wasn’t conversing, I was reading a book or breaking a 50 euro note at the K-Market downstairs from the laundromat.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Our washing done, we left some euro poorer and discovered that, in our 90-minute absence, our room had already been cleaned! And all the crowds were checking out, including our irritating neighbours. Thank goodness!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We had lunch downstairs (using numbers instead of words to order), then raced off to see S and hopefully spot some squirrels. Alas, not many of those. So we played the <i>Dresden Files </i>game for <i>ages</i>, S and I reminisced about how we met on a <i>Stargate </i>fansite in 2005, and I set up the GoPro to catch squirrels (I don’t know if I caught any!). I was loathe to leave. I really enjoy my time with S. I only managed to drag myself away by deciding to see her tomorrow!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX5c7iUKGrvXoaaCd44rsox1PQxvZ3V7IyUafyDDCzRt_MUXSPSFo7z7jMGOYVGb5Hike-eSHnw8lb4p_mwu6xpdZiTnloWQAGq10Sv_nfnQj_K48V8hNjPFneklemZaZPLs8zAOeY8oM/s800/day7.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="A squirrel looks at the camera with a nut in its mouth." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX5c7iUKGrvXoaaCd44rsox1PQxvZ3V7IyUafyDDCzRt_MUXSPSFo7z7jMGOYVGb5Hike-eSHnw8lb4p_mwu6xpdZiTnloWQAGq10Sv_nfnQj_K48V8hNjPFneklemZaZPLs8zAOeY8oM/w320-h240/day7.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I did, in fact, capture a squirrel!</span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Back “home” via Hesberger (lol no way was I going back to Subway).</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-40668883061693820952021-10-09T09:00:00.003+11:002021-10-09T09:00:00.213+11:00Day 6 - Nokia<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">This morning we went to breakfast a little later, on account of the buffet’s different weekend opening times. I sampled Karelian pasties, which I’ve never seen before but it seems they are a staple in Finland. They seem to be small, rye-crust boats filled in with mushed rice. Quite filling, if a little bland. Alright, <i>really </i>bland. Some lingonberry jam (tastes kind of like cranberry) managed to salvage it.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">After posting my Mother’s Day cards (the hotel has its own Posti box, how handy!), we drove to meet S at 9:03am and fortified ourselves with a pot of odd-tasting Earl Grey tea. S directed us to a nearby lake that was about 80% frozen over. I was astounded (and more than a little deceived) by how solid it looked, even close to the shore.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I was cold but fascinated, especially when S stood on the ice. She is 47kg to my 63kg, so I wasn’t going to risk hopping down beside her. But I did put my foot on the lake, promptly slipping and falling onto the tiny pontoon. At least I didn’t fall in! The Husband remarked that I’d fallen the best possible way.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJ6k4urkXczxGq0QkqkTY9t2KOGxFAp-XbLngrgEQgveHfGFxt1HClqRIIlvDEGRJX8X6n7QIHQ8GLwqlWNviiNT9GKRW3HgJaw6B-d9GIuTym9bJof4OhB1yQMioQba67gcykPCs51U/s800/day6.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="A lake that has been frozen over, with someone's feet lying on the ice." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJ6k4urkXczxGq0QkqkTY9t2KOGxFAp-XbLngrgEQgveHfGFxt1HClqRIIlvDEGRJX8X6n7QIHQ8GLwqlWNviiNT9GKRW3HgJaw6B-d9GIuTym9bJof4OhB1yQMioQba67gcykPCs51U/w320-h240/day6.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm walking on ... not sunshine!</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The rocks near the shore were solid and very glacier scarred. Ice dotted the walkway back to where I had parked the car, wide enough for a vehicle. I think at this point S remarked that in Finnish there is no word for “please” – she was considered rude in Scotland when she kept forgetting to say it. Instead, “kiitos” (Finnish for “thank you”) is used more widely.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We left the car at S’s house and went for a leisurely walk on gravel paths that reminded me of the fire trails back home, except that the trees are quite different and wild blueberries grow everywhere later in the year.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">S showed us shortcuts through the trees, sometimes up and over peculiarly straight and flat rocks. I imagined that they were the footpaths used by S’s ancestors. Can you imagine – because I did – standing there in the warming air, taking time to yourself centuries ago, simply enjoying the quiet, the promise of spring? I created this invisible spectre from the past and shared a peaceful moment with them.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We trekked over mud and bridge and returned to S’s house, happy and full of fresh air. I was only wearing my light jacket this time.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The three of us played the <i>Dresden Files </i>cooperative game (we have a copy at home and this was the first time S had used hers) for a bit, then sought lunch at the shops. We found a nice place that wasn’t too busy, starting with cheese soup and rye biscuits. Rye is A Thing here and S says that Finns get sad overseas when they can’t find it.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The food was <i>great</i> – the music was FANTASTIC. The speakers first gifted us with Adele, the entire 7-minute version of “Sweet Home Chicago” from <i>The Blues Brothers </i>film. The three of us, being fans, were very happy.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Back to S’s for several <i>hours </i>of the <i>Dresden Files </i>game. Outside, the weather kept changing. Every time I glanced out the window something new was to be found – snow, rain, snow, sun, rain, sun!!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Eventually, just before 5pm, The Husband and I went to the shops for dinner. Things went well until we sat down with our Subway items (30cm instead of footlongs, of course). My kaakao…I spilled it down my shirt, which was somewhat distressing for me. Luckily, we’re going to a laundromat tomorrow!</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-22161491586216258132021-10-08T09:00:00.002+11:002021-10-08T09:00:00.224+11:00Day 5 - Nokia<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We woke to what we thought was rain, then scoped out the breakfast buffet which was unstaffed – and somewhat underwhelming. When we ventured out (after discovering that the hotel’s laundry service was too expensive) at the appointed time to drive to S’s house, we encountered a wee problem.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It was SNOWING!! And there was snow on the car windshield AHHH!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Well, the snow wasn’t that heavy and melted when it struck most objects (including the ground). The Husband was able to easily wipe it off the windshield – but it was snoooow! So I drove very nervously to S’s house, where she gave me a fortifying cup of black vanilla tea.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Safely warm inside, we looked out at the snow-covered grass, trees and outdoor features. The snow soon turned to slush and the roads grew merely wet instead of slightly icy, so we set out to find Finnish sock wool for my mother-in-law.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">S told us that in order to get Finnish wool we had to go to an everyday Target-esque shop, because knitting shops only stock imported material here! While there, The Husband and I bought other supplies (well, mostly chocolate).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Then onto another strip of shops! Not much to see, since Nokia is quite suburban, though I did get some stamps for the Mother’s Day cards I bought for my nannas and my mother. They are in Finnish and luckily S was able to tell me that “mummilla” means “grandmother”! My Mum is certainly not one of those.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Back at S’s place (no driving mishaps! I’m getting better at this European driving thing!), we went for a stroll in the nearby small forest that S says will be demolished to make way for houses. I was sad to hear this.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3UnF52iy1Zr5D7ADglhL_Z1tMuDL9LYK0lIRSualvmEkR0B4Lv6yRkraXGuC5TK8Ij4QoD5rDNskZvgFQaP7Ukfm0zOwzigyC2rrIZWPyAhzKNlFd0NYFZi9Gw2jWQuXO5E0viEeCZGo/s800/day5.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="A Finnish forest - moss-covered rocks in a stream of water, surrounding by trees." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3UnF52iy1Zr5D7ADglhL_Z1tMuDL9LYK0lIRSualvmEkR0B4Lv6yRkraXGuC5TK8Ij4QoD5rDNskZvgFQaP7Ukfm0zOwzigyC2rrIZWPyAhzKNlFd0NYFZi9Gw2jWQuXO5E0viEeCZGo/w320-h240/day5.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Right out of a storybook</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Though it was cold, the ground wet and boggy, some frosting of snow remained and without a clear path, it was the most magical place. No leaves on the branches yet, but that sight pales beside the thought of there being no trees here at all. I felt like I was exploring some sacred grove, trespassing on a nymph’s home. Large chunks of weathered stone lay here, lay there. There was complete silence but for the birds (and the occasional passing car).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">And then a group of school children walked past. They must have been in kindergarten – so small! They were excited and rugged up for the cold. One roamed off to the side of the path, nearly getting lost, and the others ran along, saying in Finnish (as translated by S), “We are running! We are running!”</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Such happy children. It was lovely to see.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We happened upon a woodpecker afterwards. I thought it was making a loud cack-cack-cacking call, but it was in fact the sound of the bird pecking on a wooden power pole. The Husband was amused that the Finns had not used a metal pole to avoid this problem.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBpvluupLbaAz8wIoTsTzb9ZBku6U7Tge8W-ff0KGGFhViGktv6zwTgkPRhpHGroTMY6sUYT8Pvpzv9dYuFYE5lv1xKoZF7Lqgmy4RFoF-mxOur-xfj795l1QQbOGE4k5lvQtdtoGz8Y/s800/day5b.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="A Finnish woodpecker on a wooden power pole, mostly black with red and white markings." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisBpvluupLbaAz8wIoTsTzb9ZBku6U7Tge8W-ff0KGGFhViGktv6zwTgkPRhpHGroTMY6sUYT8Pvpzv9dYuFYE5lv1xKoZF7Lqgmy4RFoF-mxOur-xfj795l1QQbOGE4k5lvQtdtoGz8Y/w240-h320/day5b.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Woody Woodpecker's dapper cousin</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I took a selfie with all three of us inside the frame (fear me, the selfie master!) and we then went in for tea. Once again, tea was had. Now in need of lunch, we drove to Hesburger (a bit like a local Macca’s chain, as S explained, and the reason McDonald’s never gained a foothold in Finland). The cheeseburger would have done the Golden Arches proud, though the chips were lacking the amount of salt I’m used to.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We drove to the nearest shopping centre (had to go via the motorway to reach it!) and browsed. Much the same as back home, but on a smaller scale. Australia has four times the population of Finland.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We dropped S off at her house despite her insistence that it wasn’t a long walk, but I have always preferred to make sure people get home safely.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Husband and I were happy to return to the hotel. Now I am drinking tea to wash down the Finnish version of a Tunnock’s Teacake (they come in strawberry and mocha flavours!).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Buffet dinner tonight!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">God I’ll miss being able to have tea with S. :(</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-44935812690404217732021-10-07T09:00:00.001+11:002021-10-07T09:00:00.221+11:00Day 4 - Hämeenlinna & Nokia<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The day started for me at 4am (another early night, unfortunately) and I lay there, bored, hot and cold, until The Husband woke at 6am. I rang Mum who was keen to hear about yesterday. Then breakfast was sought (Nutella toast for me this time!) and I fetched S from the train station (she had taken the same 9:33am train).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">With the band back together, we visited the car rental place and I prepared to drive on the WRONG side of the road! I nervously listened (well, half listened) to the staff member as he explained the features in our Lexus(!!), but soon enough it was time to venture out of Helsinki.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Sitting in the front left seat of the car, I veered too far to the right and nearly left my lane (didn’t quite failed that badly, though!). I felt that I should be lining myself up with the right side of the lane.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Things improved on the motorway when I could hit 120kmph. Gaining confidence, I managed to overtake without any drama or incident. I actually started to enjoy myself – until it came time to park at Häme Castle, known locally as Hämeen linna (not to confused with the town’s name, Hämeenlinna).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">But I parked that Lexus, despite some uncertainty over where I should and even if I could. It is weird to look over my left shoulder when reversing.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCSTzvEl5azoYgxN8NGLfRNxX7UPXVvJn7FQ5g4rOxJ2BcYHTnoBzK6tqluUlXiwK-k8Pke0ZAMj_8ImLyGBvw0zRNrDDc8RIhs0Qs1DvM40pCOA0Oq98NkQMUxitPWPMMfOBXQPWp30/s800/day4.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="A side-on view of Hämeen linna, including part off the moat in the foreground and small of the red brick-like castle in the background." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCSTzvEl5azoYgxN8NGLfRNxX7UPXVvJn7FQ5g4rOxJ2BcYHTnoBzK6tqluUlXiwK-k8Pke0ZAMj_8ImLyGBvw0zRNrDDc8RIhs0Qs1DvM40pCOA0Oq98NkQMUxitPWPMMfOBXQPWp30/w240-h320/day4.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Moaty McMoatyFace</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The castle was a mishmash of red brick (18<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century) and large grey stones (13<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century). It bore some damage from when it was turned into a prison (19<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century). So, a castle that has been adapted as needed.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The 9-euro entry fee included a small booklet which turned me into a tour guide, as I was explaining the use of each room. We began at the Crown Bakery which had more ovens than it had ever needed for the soldiers stationed in the castle. The blackened walls spoke of much use – though none of the fireplaces were lit, the room was a warm, welcome reprieve from the biting cold outside (an admittedly okay 8°C, but alas that wind).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Cannon Tower wasn’t as insulated, but the small holes in the walls didn’t allow in too much wind. There were many coat racks for large jackets everywhere inside. I loved this place; it was like a giant brick cylinder (holes aside), overlooking the earthworks and protecting the castle on the south side.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We left the Bailey Yard, which had its own wall, and entered the keep. Inside there was a medieval courtyard, but it was filled with a weird wooden hut that some men were building. A bizarre statue was to be found in one of the nearby rooms, seemingly part of the display currently under construction.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Even S had no idea what was going on. Happily, the rest of the first floor was not so strange.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Well Yard was an enclosed room (it had not started that way) and the small Chapel had windows set into the thick wall. Over one window there were blackened wooden panels, evidence of a past fire. The back wall of the Chapel had been turned into a doorway to create easier access to the neighbouring storeroom (previously entered via the ceiling!). I liked the cosy Great Hall, where people ate, then slept on tables or the floor, as was the custom centuries ago.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_v54ihslI_VYy5sm-dAJsIyQmG8AH4M-oScWmxEQ9sIwY1tsHR2FLx6mK0anOge1V4_HUXKIzmZ1HA4-Sm5T30UaDLGdAJQFqUOY0jlm8aL6HeuWFR158TN7xmDf74mQbFaIvIyg80i8/s800/day4a.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="The chapel at Hame Castle, looking towards a window. An old bell is in the foreground." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_v54ihslI_VYy5sm-dAJsIyQmG8AH4M-oScWmxEQ9sIwY1tsHR2FLx6mK0anOge1V4_HUXKIzmZ1HA4-Sm5T30UaDLGdAJQFqUOY0jlm8aL6HeuWFR158TN7xmDf74mQbFaIvIyg80i8/w320-h240/day4a.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This rings a bell</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The second floor yielded more interesting rooms, such as the Scribe’s Chamber (which were accessed by a steep staircase) and the interior latrine opposite it – all intact medieval work so we were not allowed to touch it. The King’s Hall had vaulted ceilings and looked very fancy – apparently it was a typical medieval banquet hall.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">In the Hall of Knights, The Husband amused himself with a fake crossbow and the accompanying video game – I suspect it was a Wii or Wii-like device.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We weren’t able to go upstairs, so we walked around outside and looked down on the courtyard. It is unfortunate that in the Russian era (when the castle was converted to a prison) parts of the original building were damaged. There was an outcry from the Finns at the time. I don’t blame them! This kind of thing really gets my goat.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We departed after spending money in the gift shop and attempting to enter a little café hut in the carpark that looked open (people were inside), but the door was locked! When we left the carpark, I accidentally turned onto a <i>footpath </i>and drove along that, frantically looking for the road. Thankfully, the kerb was very low so we managed to escape.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Lunch was had at a service centre, where I nearly reversed into a ditch while parking. But wait, there’s more! I managed to drive onto the wrong side of the road while leaving, but no one was nearby to witness it – or be endangered by my hilariously bad driving.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Wow, I was on a roll. A bad one.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We drove to the hotel, though the GPS insisted on adding 20 minutes to the journey – all while butchering every single local place name, causing S to laugh multiple times.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The place we booked into is rather dated, but it has the distinction of being the only hotel in Nokia. The hotel had spas and water sliders, the kind of place I’d have loved as a kid!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Then it was time to take S home. Her father welcomed us then stayed mostly out of sight, watching television. His English is not as good as S’s and he did not like the idea of speaking through his daughter. Fair call.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Seeing S’s room and house was fun. So different to what I’d pictured! I ran outside with my DSLR and telescopic lens to capture a squirrel. He did not appreciate the audience and scampered away along the squirrel highway in the trees.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlBj5IUou7-5-UaEATifKhsBcYzkSiRegPSMka9iefsU2lrrKrdpJfLe1UA_WYmSBrUAAco6CwHBe6OXfVITR_Fx-59xkhzFMwB08U1GX3-J6qxDZSl2hPQjD5ayG3R5gsfOC0_tQ4_Y/s800/day4b.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="A Finnish squirrel sitting in a tree." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlBj5IUou7-5-UaEATifKhsBcYzkSiRegPSMka9iefsU2lrrKrdpJfLe1UA_WYmSBrUAAco6CwHBe6OXfVITR_Fx-59xkhzFMwB08U1GX3-J6qxDZSl2hPQjD5ayG3R5gsfOC0_tQ4_Y/w240-h320/day4b.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Squirrelled away in a tree</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">S, The Husband and I shared a pot of tea. At last, my sister and I were able to have tea together. Bucket list item crossed off!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We talked for ages, then it was time to go. Drove to the hotel, had some lapses in driving, didn’t stop for a woman on a pedestrian crossing, hit the kerb…maybe I was just tired!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The hotel restaurant had roasted reindeer, so I tried that. Flavour is different from beef, but not gamey. Quite nice.</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-32615501083611102452021-10-06T09:00:00.002+11:002021-10-06T09:00:00.251+11:00Day 3 - Helsinki
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I woke up at 2am, extremely disoriented because I had put my head down for “a few minutes” after dinner at about 8pm. The room was dark and my teeth unbrushed. I stumbled into the bathroom, waking The Husband as I did so. He said he had tried to wake me earlier, but I’d grumbled and the only coherent thing he got out of me was the fact that I’d taken all the relevant pills.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I managed to go back to sleep until 6am. We had to wait a bit before breakfast, which was down on level two. It was <i>very </i>sufficient. They had a large pot of chicken and noodles (accompanied by chopsticks) and one of my perennial travel favourites – a pancake machine! While I waited for my pancake, I spotted the Nutella packets near the bread, so of course I grabbed some.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We left at a quarter past nine to mail postcards (there were two boxes, so I guessed and used the priority one as my stamp packaging seemed to match), then went over to the station to meet S!!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Her train was a little late, which allowed us to find platform 10 before it arrived. My phone phantom-dialled my parents just as she walked up to us – whoops! But I suppose S is family, though I’ve never seen her in person before.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We hugged – finally we had met! Re-met?</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Then we frantically looked around for a WC (water closet/toilet) for S, who had been travelling for 90 minutes. That done, I led everyone to Kauppatori which had markets – and of course the ferry to Suomenlinna, Helsinki’s sea fortress (it’s spread over some small islands).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The ferry was cold but the sights were fantastic – and there were so many low-lying seagulls for my camera! I was able to retreat to a warm room when necessary.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBsRKC12OkKe69oKONw2h-tR1RVA_QhQbnvSYPHn4nZ10T-oU-vOsR3cx7ZI_7CI2visyCip6x-z124063SuvNYck1xCHffjJPCW3onbFnNaqVkNqQ5xVtw8FPOthkEx4kKks24M2-MM/s2048/day3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="Two seagulls on the edge of a ferry, looking for food." border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBsRKC12OkKe69oKONw2h-tR1RVA_QhQbnvSYPHn4nZ10T-oU-vOsR3cx7ZI_7CI2visyCip6x-z124063SuvNYck1xCHffjJPCW3onbFnNaqVkNqQ5xVtw8FPOthkEx4kKks24M2-MM/w320-h240/day3.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And just where are <i>your </i>tickets?</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Suomenlinna was built in the 18<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century (during the Swedish era) and was previously called Viapori. Cramped conditions and a rough life made it not so fun for workers and soldiers alike. Scurvy and dysentery were rife.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Then Finland was taken from Sweden by Russia in the Finnish War in 1809. Many people lived at Viapori during this time, in wooden buildings which no longer exist. Cholera hit in the fortress in the 1830s, so that is why there is a cholera cemetery on a nearby island.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">In 1918, Finland gained its independence and named the island Suomenlinna. Their garrison moved in and a housing shortage followed. A POW camp was established with 800 prisoners, a crowded situation that resulted in starvation and fatal diseases. There was still no electricity or running water in the 1960s, though that’s changed since.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Suomenlinna is now UNESCO world heritage listed. 800 residents and the Naval Academy now make use of the islands. They even have a grocery store!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Ahem, history lesson over.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We disembarked the ferry at the Jetty Barracks, a pink building dating to the 19<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century and designed to house 250 soldiers. Now it has a café and restaurant – we were glad to see these!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUg1ZazkdLHgql4WFoaAriZ9OIyjb5B_ynL21CKGCImCwCkAvy3LAHXi3roiEDeDL_tEG7AP_aIf3qLDbwLgRsQ_wfbILPlMpdLJ9PmWiW7QeOvxLfMt-uzW9VVhpqHtgxfe9F31vAMw/s800/day3a.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="The Jetty Barracks at Suomenlinna - a pink building with an arched entryway. It also has a clock on it." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUg1ZazkdLHgql4WFoaAriZ9OIyjb5B_ynL21CKGCImCwCkAvy3LAHXi3roiEDeDL_tEG7AP_aIf3qLDbwLgRsQ_wfbILPlMpdLJ9PmWiW7QeOvxLfMt-uzW9VVhpqHtgxfe9F31vAMw/w240-h320/day3a.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">You shall...actually pass.</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">S and I, cameras out and at the ready (and flanked by The Husband), approached the nearby Suomenlinna Church. It used to be in the Russian Orthodox style, but was converted to the Lutheran style at the beginning of the Finnish era, losing its onion-shaped dome. It was quite nice to look at, though the surrounding trees were still bare and a bit sad. We enjoyed taking photos of the geese we found.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The islands and bridges forming Suomenlinna felt deserted and it was so very cold – my hands froze, but my legs, encased in jeans <i>and </i>woollen tights, were fine. The cobblestone roads made my ankles ache, so I preferred being on the grass.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We explored some fortifications which had gaps to allow for cannons. The rooms and corridors inside the vast stone walls were not lit and so cold that icicles hung down everywhere. The floor was covered in a thin layer of ice that I cracked and slipped on – I got out of there fairly fast! S was braver than me.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEZeuFRkcLy9lX3H0Up7c16PqIJE75UREUoBM2RpO9rfo6pwlqMMbjSnP66CDbNm37XD9DAj3PUbR19sorTLnUQ73cSiE1hWqkl322hlQqrQ7a0arfmcvVYpXvzu4-JZ39wKo4g7Mf-xU/s800/day3b.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEZeuFRkcLy9lX3H0Up7c16PqIJE75UREUoBM2RpO9rfo6pwlqMMbjSnP66CDbNm37XD9DAj3PUbR19sorTLnUQ73cSiE1hWqkl322hlQqrQ7a0arfmcvVYpXvzu4-JZ39wKo4g7Mf-xU/s320/day3b.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A commanding view</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We continued our way past various cannons, now more aesthetically pleasing than actually useful, that dominated the walls of the islands and the Bastion Zander. We passed many hills that had houses dug into them – this reminded me of the prehistoric houses at Skara Brae; the grassy hills made S think of Hobbiton.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We came across a cat with a thick coat and a querulous meow, so of course we patted it and took photos. Our attention was clearly desired, since it followed us down the hill!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">There was a flagpole on the bastion but no flag. I later found out that they hoist the flag on my birthday, May 12, because on that day in 1918 a flag was hoisted over free, independent Finland for the first time in that spot.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We passed a memorial for something that occurred in 1937 (a few people listed seemed to die 1-2 days after the event). No further details were given, according to S who read the sign for us. I guessed that it was an explosion – I was right.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">There was a munitions-related accident on Vallisaari island, resulting in the deaths of twelve people. The shockwave caused earthquake-like shakes in Helsinki and explosions that continued for <i>an entire day</i>. A black cloud followed.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We hunted for the King’s Gate (now we were more than 1km from the quay), but kept finding walls with cannon holes – and a closed restaurant. But then we found it!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The King’s Gate was small and had two drawbridge doors, a defensible entrance to the fortress – and the main one when built by the Swedes in 1753/1754. The double drawbridge was added in 1790. The gate is named after King Adolf Frederick of Sweden.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIaGUdRiz5oBjwoh6Of5yF5dMgW0lBYuc09zjlOBSCsJQ2NTMO9W5k0qlYbI8I-Xr_MbIvzhszXjTTcfs-xD34-ad6GRThobdBs2eP9kN7bknJsUFQNEfxbJ5Mu5kuK8zelGkF19qnoo/s800/day3c.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="The King's Gate at Suomenlinna, the photo taken so that you can see water framed through the middle." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIaGUdRiz5oBjwoh6Of5yF5dMgW0lBYuc09zjlOBSCsJQ2NTMO9W5k0qlYbI8I-Xr_MbIvzhszXjTTcfs-xD34-ad6GRThobdBs2eP9kN7bknJsUFQNEfxbJ5Mu5kuK8zelGkF19qnoo/w240-h320/day3c.png" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A gate for VIPs, clearly</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The gate afforded quite a good view of the sea and the cruise ships passing by, including a large red one belonging to Viking Cruises. The quay here was closed and the waterbus only stops by in summer.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">On our way back to the quay, we passed through the shady and pleasant Great Courtyard, finding a tomb in the middle where the courtyard’s designer is buried. Following this, we enjoyed snacks and drinks at the café inside the Jetty Barracks. I had mint ice cream with my small mud cake. Yum!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We took the 1:20pm ferry and I swapped over to the telescopic lens for the seagulls. It was still so cold though – S and I quickly retreated to the warm room, where The Husband had stayed.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We returned to Kuappatori and found the markets open! I bought a fox-fur scarf for 35 euro. Softer ones were very expensive but I was happy with my fluffy grey one. The woman who sold it to me showed me the different ways it could be tied and worn.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We passed by Helsinki Cathedral again so I could get better photos with the DSLR (The Husband and S stayed back as I did this). I had to switch out the telescopic lens for the normal one because I couldn’t fit the massive building into my shots! S says it is called the “Judgement Church”. Apparently many churches have names like that.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We killed time before S’s 4:06pm train by having lunch in the Ravintola Grande Grill, which had tasty food and a pub-like feel. It was not busy and a nice place to hang out and chat. We then returned to the station and walked. S down to carriage 9 of her train, right down the end of platform 8. We waited long enough to wave her off and then walked away, pleased with the day’s events.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The Husband said S and I got along like a house on fire. I think it was more like an adequately heated house – warm and comfortable. We have known each other for years. Today’s meeting was just a physical confirmation of our friendship.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We stopped by the supermarket for dinner food and here we are at the hotel. I’m trying the chocolate S gave me – and some weird, chewy lollies that. Takes like extremely salty liquorice (apparently it’s called “salmiakki”).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Tomorrow – a castle and Nokia!</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-72540030892004119332021-10-05T09:00:00.005+11:002021-10-05T15:47:38.369+11:00Day 2 - Helsinki<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We hit Helsinki, Finland at 6:15am and the pilot cheerfully announced that the local temperature was –3°C (ahhh!). I was sitting at the window so I saw a marvellous purple/pink sunrise and noted as we came in that Finland has an array of muted brown colours (Russia had looked intensely snowy).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We breezed through customs. Our British passports mean that we’re part of the European Union (…until the UK officially cuts all ties with the EU whoops) and we had nothing to declare. Our bags were actually the first out at the baggage carousel (I think because they were the last on at Singapore). The toilets we encountered were a little different. In Finland, they don’t seem to have bidets but each stall comes with a water hose (I was later informed that these are called “bidet showers”).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The taxi to the city centre cost over 50 euros. I tend to avoid trains if I’ve come in from a long-haul flight. I was worried we might not find the nearby car rental place, but instead laughed when I saw that it was practically <i>next door </i>to our hotel! Our taxi driver was lucky – as soon as he dropped us off, people with suitcases emerged from the hotel!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Unfortunately, it was 7am and our room would not be available until 10am. So we put our suitcases into luggage storage and ventured out into the cold, vastly unprepared and me in one light jacket (the Uggboots did not help there!). Brrr!!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We ambled around, a little lost and a bit unsure and very cold!! We spent a lot of time finding warm buildings to hide inside, including Helsinki Central railway station.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2qCRUhrIc-319BEMB_WjX16EatmCZw7g6ReULYas0zIHf-MTU3i-L0E3J_Waey24zZ-4leUcclVEFerwyBz2jTAmT2sTdrTJ0eSCyQHE1swbz8iRm1DiXn7Z6GfoZp2pv45W83cBKRzY/s800/day2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="The main entrance of Helsinki train station, including two statues holding globes." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2qCRUhrIc-319BEMB_WjX16EatmCZw7g6ReULYas0zIHf-MTU3i-L0E3J_Waey24zZ-4leUcclVEFerwyBz2jTAmT2sTdrTJ0eSCyQHE1swbz8iRm1DiXn7Z6GfoZp2pv45W83cBKRzY/w320-h240/day2.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ridiculously Photogenic Train Station</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We attempted to find a place selling hot chocolates, but amidst the menus promising “coffee”, “chai latte” and something called “kaakao”, it seemed no one had them! We eventually found a place in a shopping centre that advertised “hot chocolate”, though what we received was more on par with an Argentinian submarino (a piece of chocolate is dropped into hot milk and allowed to dissolve and flavour the drink – in this instance, it was frothed milk).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The receipt The Husband took proved useful – A) he needed it to get his hot chocolate they’d forgotten to make, and B) it revealed that a hot chocolate is known as “kaakao” in Finnish. Hilariously, the places we had ignored for lacking hot chocolates had been selling them all along! Oh dear.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We returned to the hotel to laze in the sun streaming through a window in the foyer. That was very nice. But then we were allowed into our “executive suite”, which came with free chocolate and water – The Husband is a platinum member of this grouping of hotels. We also get free fast wifi! And a shower, badly needed, restored us for more adventuring.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Armed with a basic map aimed at customers of a tour company, we set out again. We meant to find the Finlandia Hall but instead stumbled across Villa Hakasalmi. It is also known as Villa Karamzin because Aurora Karamzin lived there until her death at 96 years of age. It is a free museum with space for exhibitions, but there is nothing showing there for a while. It is also undergoing a “facelift” so its looks left much to be desired. But it was a lot more charming than Parliament House, which seemed to be a combination of facelift and war zone. Instead of attempting to figure out that mess, I took photos of the National Museum of Finland (and the passing trams for my brother, Cazy).</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhffrdTn8ZUKUvQNdZpdLeVqsuAdR4wvcAjhVpbsKphYwdtkxQL3VH173IMUnA4XhISW5q9tMDowPa61ICMvHZPv9L-LLvF33f8z1QF59z_O0CihtYaVs7ERJaigJOoXMIHm7Jvf2sTHs8/s800/day2a.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="Villa Hakasalmi, a pink building with ornate windows" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhffrdTn8ZUKUvQNdZpdLeVqsuAdR4wvcAjhVpbsKphYwdtkxQL3VH173IMUnA4XhISW5q9tMDowPa61ICMvHZPv9L-LLvF33f8z1QF59z_O0CihtYaVs7ERJaigJOoXMIHm7Jvf2sTHs8/w320-h240/day2a.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="text-align: left;">Villa Hakasalmi - l</span>ess photogenic, but still pleasant!</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">In an attempt to find another attraction, we ended up down near the Opera House (used by the Finnish National Opera and Ballet company) and were halfway lost, but we made it in the end. Our destination was Temppelliaukio Church (aka Rock Church – Lutheran). It was completed in 1969 and is built into the natural rock. The structure is round, has a dome and its exterior wall is made from a neat circle of rocks. Certainly a unique building – though it did bring to mind the parking structure near Finlandia, which was also built into an enormous rock. Well, if the natural geology is that large and impressive, you might as well incorporate it into your building! We didn’t go inside the church, but the Internet tells me that an ice-age crevice serves as the altarpiece.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We bought souvenirs nearby, then traipsed back to the station for lunch (we went to a hot dog place and managed to order food without too much embarrassment). Afterwards, we aimlessly wandered (the map wasn’t very helpful) and found ourselves at a rather impressive building that commanded our attention.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">This gorgeous white behemoth filled the sky – the very <i>blue </i>sky – and filled my photos with the colours of the Finnish flag. Its identity soon became obvious: Helsinki Cathedral. What an imposing sight. The cathedral is 165 years old – older than the nation state of Finland!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We descended the steps out the front into Senate Square, which was surrounded by lovely buildings. Quite a few of them (Helsinki Cathedral, the Government Palace, part of the University of Helsinki and the National Library of Finland) were designed by the same dude, Carl Ludwig Engel, in the 19<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>th</sup></span> century.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMYf12yoFpy4DPsTaGgpqzvbKTzSdqoFrBVHl9KU44sgbSzaJ21X3S47P_COq_Ov_ox6JVYyDYehl4NrV4Vm8I_uTf5YT0oxTEEwe642UMikIAssWllcvn33cMLTjsHs8VDB1kgKKsvYc/s800/day2b.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="Helsinki Cathedral, a white building set against a blue sky." border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMYf12yoFpy4DPsTaGgpqzvbKTzSdqoFrBVHl9KU44sgbSzaJ21X3S47P_COq_Ov_ox6JVYyDYehl4NrV4Vm8I_uTf5YT0oxTEEwe642UMikIAssWllcvn33cMLTjsHs8VDB1kgKKsvYc/w320-h240/day2b.png" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Ridiculously Photogenic Cathedral</span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">On the way back to the hotel we grabbed some drinks from the station. I reached for a Coke Zero – and found that they all felt too warm! Ugh. Then I realised my fingers were colder than the fridge. Whoops!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Now I am Coked, watered and very, very chocolated (Panda is the first brand I’m trying and I’ve learned that “suklaa” is Finnish for chocolate). A little tired. The Husband is napping – it’s 3pm here but 10pm in Sydney. I slept more than him on the plane.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Meeting S tomorrow!!! My Finnish “sister”!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Well, technically we met for the first time over a decade ago...but was online. This will be our first ever in-person meeting. :D</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-61824112474556358352021-10-04T09:00:00.002+11:002021-10-04T09:00:00.256+11:00Day 1 - SYD-SIN-HEL<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We hung around in our apartment in Sydney until 11am, then departed for the train, leaving my brother-in-law to enjoy having the place to himself for 23 days.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I was wearing my Uggboots, fearful of the cold in Helsinki, but this made dragging the suitcases to the station somewhat hellish – and the 20°C weather wasn’t doing me any favours. So we decided on a taxi instead.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">After visiting the taxi rank at the station, we were taken to the Qantas terminal at Sydney Kingsford Smith Airport. Our driver helpfully gave us the departure cards we had to fill out for immigration.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We arrived so damn early, but we were unable to choose our seats as apparently everyone else had checked in online. Oh well, we were in the middle of the A330 aircraft and would not need to clamber over anyone. Much to my amusement, our second set of tickets had us flying from SIN to HEL.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We had Thai food before braving security. I was nervous, but glad that The Husband convinced me to eat beforehand – we had <i>hours </i>to kill. And kill them we did. I initially felt bad about wearing the Uggboots there, though it became clear that no one cared because 40% of the Australians I saw were wearing <i>thongs</i>. Okay, most of them were lining up for Bali, but don’t their feet get cold!?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We boarded our flight to Singapore at about 3:05pm and discovered some decent films on the entertainment system to watch. I kept myself awake and did badly at Sudoku, somehow killing 8 hours in the process.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We touched down in Singapore just as our next flight started boarding passengers. We got the gate number and ran, gasping, from one wing of Singapore Changi Airport to the other. Uggboots and a heavy laptop did not make it easy! And the security at the gate made me take off my Uggboots for screening (I’d had to do the same in Sydney) and we managed to board our Finnair flight without drama, despite the 10 minutes we’d had from deplaning to get to the gate.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I had quite a bizarre experience as I entered the plane. For the first time in my life, I was surrounded by people who looked exactly like me. I’ve never even experienced this back in Sydney. It completely threw me for a loop! I'd always suspected I had Scandinavian genes. This pretty much confirmed it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We were stuck in the window/middle/aisle configuration, but towards the window which is not ideal for people with small bladders. We tried to get the Finn in the aisle to swap with us. He said he preferred where he was. I’m <i>very </i>sure he came to regret that stance, because The Husband and I were up and down a lot (we tried to sync up, to avoid bothering our seatmate) and then…I had been doing so well at jumping over him…but oh, I failed this one attempt in such a bad way. I slipped, I slammed my butt into his face and hit the chair across the aisle. Oh my God.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">“Sorry!” I shouted and ran to the toilet without a backwards glance.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I slept for a good chunk of the 12-hour flight. I think I was conscious for less than half of it! As for the other few hours, Finnair has five times the entertainment content as Qantas, the toilets stay cleaner and we were <i>15 minutes early </i>to Helsinki. Qantas has always been chronically late for me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgWOL8sFi_UHgiYhDNeeprDSDJYYpmTE0qPSJHSe2RAuAOQpZoaRCcxEOHq9UE4xwSlfSudJxyCNnkSWFf5HF1Kzb5ET0_2K83K9uqpyzgX_eVyPAaM5ZcmuSf_VqgboQrrhE-Yirlspg/s800/day+1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img alt="A photo taken from a plane, includes a pink/purple sunrise over Russia and a wing of the plane." border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgWOL8sFi_UHgiYhDNeeprDSDJYYpmTE0qPSJHSe2RAuAOQpZoaRCcxEOHq9UE4xwSlfSudJxyCNnkSWFf5HF1Kzb5ET0_2K83K9uqpyzgX_eVyPAaM5ZcmuSf_VqgboQrrhE-Yirlspg/w240-h320/day+1.png" title="Flying over Russia" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Flying over Russia</span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 24px; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">PS: Watched <i>Your Name </i>on that flight. Quite a good movie.</span></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-59601296177540112792021-10-03T17:45:00.000+11:002021-10-03T17:45:49.416+11:00Introduction: Country Hopping<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The travel bug had well and truly taken a chunk out of me by 2017. But I was already growing weary of longer trips, wanting to keep the duration of my adventures to under a month. Travelling is fun and all, but home is where I can lie in bed and not feel guilty about wasting the day.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The big item on my bucket list was meeting my Finnish "sister". S and I had met on a <i>Stargate </i>fansite back in 2005. Those were fun times. I was still in school and had no responsibilities, no husband and no ability to zip to another hemisphere.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">S and I have always been close. But what if we could be <i>closer </i>- geographically speaking?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">So obviously Finland was our destination. But once you've gone to the trouble of flying 24 hours to Europe, you might as well stick around - it's so easy to country hop. I figured I'd hit three other countries after meeting S. There were places I wanted to see, drawn to them by their appearance in TV shows and books. It'd be great fun! A couple of days here, a couple of days there...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I was really going to wish I'd spent a whole month in the Northern Hemisphere.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJFpjiK11YN7PriGyBRkA3so_rfyugfz1M2fm1D6YWo8XV1BAifRijEFv5FAxuxQpPOY3xt7dLs5qV8VvkYoyUf8qByBtsgiF64m_vMtrFlgX7XbqRT64silAhfAGPogFZCA-HI-q2Pg/s1201/intro.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1194" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJFpjiK11YN7PriGyBRkA3so_rfyugfz1M2fm1D6YWo8XV1BAifRijEFv5FAxuxQpPOY3xt7dLs5qV8VvkYoyUf8qByBtsgiF64m_vMtrFlgX7XbqRT64silAhfAGPogFZCA-HI-q2Pg/s320/intro.png" width="318" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Sydney CBD, as viewed from Taronga Zoo</span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p><br /></p>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-6645691227496754802017-12-23T19:05:00.003+11:002021-10-03T21:14:29.163+11:002015 Rambles: Table of Contents<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/introduction-impossible-can-happen.html" target="_blank">Introduction: The Impossible Can Happen</a></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">
After thinking she'll never go overseas again, Caz learns that nothing is impossible.</span></div>
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</span><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-1-new-york.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3XNVOHE929LwoqGAjOAEvDP4mlb8tf2AfXeSKMT2x07JGXpW_Prd5pUEwj2RRJ1JLqUhNGbl-CgkUNpXuEkG4yGXf_T7X2pUTJxil1FPgiJSxqtf36G5IvjZSmCp_aMEauU3EZH1b3u4/s1600/day1b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-1-new-york.html" target="_blank">Day 1: New York</a></b><br />
In which Caz discovers that New York City can be quite smelly in summer.<br />
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<a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-2-new-york.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjr9OKzwyIo9Om6R568cW1NsjXNpJF2dLwYLrmn-w4I5mMz4CB1V9ZlZsTS625WH_I00DnFGFjq2NNS9GZJp4sDbYScX9-L0c9mmuoE-MgmKBT0JwmtA7869VpNXT3AjbBOKgGJmZu0hY/s1600/day2b.png" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b><b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-2-new-york.html" target="_blank">Day 2: New York</a></b><br />
Caz and her fiancé get inside Lady Liberty's head.<br />
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</span><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-3-new-york.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKSgphFBZZ1TGLcHuxgSZydxLwBIkgvU6D5nChwxmB0yLlizqaA_7ZFmdlq8u5BQP2vaYO6L73H9ZE_DHojG7OjuDRSDq1wv8U4Z72JWnVQBMoo6cdCzDLHhomepEK3exbJZd9uXwEPF4/s1600/day3b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-3-new-york.html" target="_blank">Day 3: New York</a></b><br />
We look down on Manhattan, chase down Finch and Reese - and my leggings cause a stir!<br />
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</span><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-4-new-york.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiECuoGs3WWuePM70ZH_Pvk0LLrs_K2b-Ot_K1LfsELjlvO1yO3xaVtyDWhR_wIp3wJENifCAK5OSCU0vUOnqiy86Z_T0yK9udZEbSVjIpAeuO1pczJldFLBuQHDr3K1cTBrvFvvWF8vCc/s1600/day4b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-4-new-york.html" target="_blank">Day 4: New York</a></b><br />
Caz finds the one place in New York City where she doesn't feel grumpy.<br />
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</span><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-5-new-york.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUjJiA8_f827injTTjtT0dWSfNxvEWuRzjvOcqrDB2mwA5zvuO2fWRSOBkjLpze7Zy4PJ9m7mpCEJGtgRZnqG0Q_3S5SckFKQzx4L1aILrBeE2F0YPIAG7nAxFi10eueSJfYmbuPjF1g4/s1600/day5b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-5-new-york.html" target="_blank">Day 5: New York</a></b><br />
A parade derails our plan to touch a bull but fails to stop us joining the Ghostbusters!<br />
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-6-hamilton.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 6: Hamilton</span></a></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">
We discover a preferred filming location in Canada.</span></div>
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</span><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-7-niagara-falls.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-y32F9cuLsIloPBTt2Bi3m5Kty2Yp90qRp-RPlo9nN1ThAmN1SYBLCyi_DnaBPULJtpPjR22JLEgIjlxgZ7pGWODf6nZ4jeaGWij5V4wn2iMW_5MUfixgc93xYdfmFPlsgncN2Flb_Mc/s1600/day7b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-7-niagara-falls.html" target="_blank">Day 7: Niagara Falls</a></b><br />
A giant tourist trap - with a side order of wonder - keeps us captive for a day.<br />
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</span><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-8-hamilton.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3R4tMecfJkuA8ZPrItTeVBKglk_W8dkq5HBOn5StezleSZuJcelkUcVSpHHet97nIu8wwXKEvP6_h9quRIuZQEO3p4LQfscF4qXaSdyxABwzYIAV9897uzo97s0sQR67k2DBH_yQi_UE/s1600/day8b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-8-hamilton.html" target="_blank">Day 8: Hamilton</a></b><br />
We skulk around Hamilton and happily do not run into Magneto.<br /><br /><br />
</span><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-9-hamilton.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVlkRkJGLQT1E9b2fDCZvA_ePwz8X6LfoH4NcjdycfvFrSoO9Dbh3iiDJMZqkoyp545WeVfTiVNZlnmuBPcpVoBPDDXzv3fKXIPU6Xe2GM-1TWoamV6rUHyxxmL5i-wgxo6oiCPiBRknA/s1600/day9b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-9-hamilton.html" target="_blank">Day 9: Hamilton</a></b><br />
In which laundry is done and Caz reads a book.<br />
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</span><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-10-dundurn-castle-stoney-creek.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKl60IecQZ_KTM7BnWVMln5mkU2QvsMlhYqExgVx1EIcV8Q595yP-oWUrHaLS4gOFd_e-gFvY1mt3I_T0yJGta9eGcHzBUIGUDrxktiuN7YBnR1KlpQKXWHYmq0C9UIPasUf_AkMh3kIM/s1600/day10b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-10-dundurn-castle-stoney-creek.html" target="_blank">Day 10: Dundurn Castle & Stoney Creek</a></b><br />
The War of 1812 features heavily in a tale of two houses.<br />
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</span><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-11-toronto.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd8ZVsizyDhiZf4c3e-ioVt9aCGyWAWA2vD_dLD_GdmK45_zqG7tkhGlohKc0tSA5UMe4Npcu5qvCJfOjS4aeHod3Z9NWqBT7L656xyfXmTH85Dr8Apv0YiFfa-wXNbLpG9oYB2OiESPE/s1600/day11b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-11-toronto.html" target="_blank">Day 11: Toronto</a></b><br />
Caz discovers another filming location and her fiancé braves the CN Tower.<br />
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/days-12-13-14-relaxing-in-hamilton.html" target="_blank">Days 12, 13 & 14: Hamilton</a></b></span></div>
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We do absolutely nothing for 3 days and then have to say goodbye to Tim Hortons.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-15-london.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAdu8-WcuEaL9M65Fr28NY_ks3oTHaeV1fTJk7iK9xyt5lSvNoqZaKvwxj7dZttkxKY2b8Y9IYOHdgq7f584DUJYp9eVsn5k_OZBdPAJKky_y_VPLBMXeb-rInQqKAJq4ZJnH-oxYcIRM/s1600/day12b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-15-london.html" target="_blank">Day 15: London</a></b><br />
Sherlock Holmes, Kingsman and Kensington Palace end up on our hit list.<br />
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</span><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-16-dover.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEk1J0Oskve543yjcFkqs6sGgHj_LG1SqJNoPIueIZ_NA_Z1jdybV2ED6ZsZKFOmK-D-gvNiXefQBQPCAHVFGc3aZATycNY3aRoB9xgyo_PVN9HRWHFVgN24ydgAGyc8wD4-bjfvdCwmE/s1600/day13b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-16-dover.html" target="_blank">Day 16: Dover</a></b><br />
Dover offers us a fantastic castle and a surprising amount of Roman ruins.<br />
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</span><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-17-devon.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4onjSNWw7sM4mTe5RjU4bHCnlahxpe9bt3WyGm3uHYFPJ1ax3lqwAf9078MLgNX3UwQVwNzQbqYWug2egQeuBnVTy_LgLmgZh9APG5IdbFgnYPnKRGhxOvMNXAS0a2OMEp6V7BuDjbeY/s1600/day17b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-17-devon.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 17: Devon</span></a></b></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">
In which Totnes is evil but Berry Pomeroy Castle makes it all better.<br />
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-18-edinburgh.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 18: Edinburgh</span></a></b></div>
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We travel in style and Caz fulfils her dream of buying more cashmere.</span></div>
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<a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-19-edinburgh.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjafxLeAQi3WRbge5Th7sirEBpzzFmCijC-Yd35f1zkFUhS0l_HKGQnLX_4TvRDry3sIh0-8u-p4vHG20OjTowQ1KZ_CFi0YXZauMLlTtMPtiB4R8lfAwAXREfOwmRtOK7pTVoG3Cww5E/s1600/day19b.png" /></span></a></div>
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-19-edinburgh.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 19: Edinburgh</span></a></b></div>
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Caz and her fiancé go in search of St Anthony's Chapel.</span></div>
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<a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-20-glasgow.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtDInAvEPmzGBqu43Q2OJy28kLuCgqFvA0IuG3Z7KhQ6ZPG-3bHhdGdPdIyicmF1H3ckbQC7Fj-CRtR1B-h_5aBup3kC5RZgYLFKS-8jVfxL6GxbuuM7w1fGBNWTGlYz3E9hhYju4PFo/s1600/day20b.png" /></span></a></div>
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-20-glasgow.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 20: Glasgow</span></a></b></div>
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We head to Glasgow via Bothwell Castle.</span></div>
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<a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-21-inveraray-dunstaffnage-inverlochy.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIiWKgrJjBK9Rh7gknNn-jya1lMVCSEPnZNMpAkKt0yNmooSGyqlBQ6MdsccM_7fMLMrwltf5QZu8e-CUeNdTuIKo3dtNNqeEJ-y0ci_lkqZVhyIuX6Xde-R4RltcOjuSqR0j0VHD1maI/s1600/day21b.png" /></span></a></div>
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-21-inveraray-dunstaffnage-inverlochy.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 21: Inveraray, Dunstaffnage & Inverlochy</span></a></b></div>
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Caz ambitiously tackles three castles in one day.</span></div>
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<a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-22-eilean-donan-skye.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_punZhgdMM2rh79z_v7bEgB3CpgzE9hOkBKUCXQkW1gWRqCFv00yIPepQdWM8Mf9q9k1p3zXoR1eaHi1OvWCcKXYEqxwNssyt0xfx5wrZCAFNgw4PL2Mt8HbeIrtkWr-kpd1jSVbGMz4/s1600/day22b.png" /></span></a></div>
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-22-eilean-donan-skye.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 22: Eilean Donan & Skye</span></a></b></div>
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The UK's most photographed castle gets another photo taken of it.</span></div>
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<a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-23-skye.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgARohjnc75RRI7PR33RlJ7HHlhOAaTiI8RKpMuiZr9blhfAfVpOFsa5tJiiQ8OW6flXVepAI5vRmDjuNLd-FNi3bBfypOiSokENnXrAM80CG5xH-hzaTPtL7WzU5s-ogLIqhW-4QCwX94/s1600/day23b.png" /></span></a><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-23-skye.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 23: Skye</span></a></b></div>
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Dunvegan Castle surprises us with its secrets and Skye stuns us with its beauty.</span></div>
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<a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-24-skye.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oSHOlXH3CQ5UfKnKqA9uODX3dqo2_pW7lXayPzdjDInePlHwdjUe5_aVQ_BQYdX6IhpyqOfNgRadpc45B21E7w3XkxY1o_1mV1LSdUIq20ug1KsJ4IpTMPk4mn-NSEjXQnhlvX0oLpc/s1600/day24b.png" /></span></a></div>
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-24-skye.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 24: Skye</span></a></b></div>
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We fail to find a souterrain but we do find an epic broch.</span></div>
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<a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-25-loch-ness.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg41mxxP-5bmf8Cg7BXHnb-xI1_UNlhrlHcR_0pG84zhoF3b22y-2MG4FRC4kuVVzyhF48dVAYXRyxa7qwRgc2Qw3tjr58Miwfcjt-ae04AcFajofiyJSgDWajLgoTN4yVwzD0DAM7VKNw/s1600/day25b.png" /></span></a></div>
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-25-loch-ness.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 25: Loch Ness</span></a></b></div>
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Caz's second visit to Loch Ness begins with some vehicular trouble!</span></div>
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<a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-26-balmoral-braemer.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAYKyqGXV4hNtZJ6qyMEA3GrpQM8K169Sl5hf7cYtQNATzuaL8lalJ2AT-jGv459ibvjrrS7tc-X9jGJzqN6wYiv-XHXEQjhNLejTUs8AvsatWUH8bQcNjCnq0fJBuadf598LHn29LkA/s1600/day26b.png" /></span></a><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/09/day-26-balmoral-braemer.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 26: Balmoral & Braemer</span></a></b></div>
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Relying on a dodgy spare tyre, we set out on dodgier B roads.<br />
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<a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/10/days-27-30-long-journey-home.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="100" data-original-width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZVanCORmNCJVqvSzHyM_ob7hBRJXxPdFxxGfpwj13uXtmuoddEGJJyORFtJnmL_EBWHNk2V_6cont16Uy_W6CU2yjxeIWtUcHn8DcwbK0XEKvQnqkRUiTBSSPwX9Pl6iAJKro8MICKo/s1600/day27b.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></div>
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/10/days-27-30-long-journey-home.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Days 27-30: The Long Journey Home</span></a></b></div>
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We manage to squeeze in a flying visit to St Paul's Cathedral before we board a day-long flight.</span></div>
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<b><a href="http://aramblingrover.blogspot.com.au/2015/10/conclusion-dont-dream-its-over.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Conclusion: Don't Dream It's Over</span></a></b></div>
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Caz shares yet more travel tips that no one asked for. ;)</span></div>
<br />Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-50718607439009555212015-10-02T08:00:00.003+10:002021-10-04T19:06:25.591+11:00Conclusion: Don't Dream It's Over<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">There is freedom within, there is freedom without</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">But you'll never see the end of the road</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">While you're traveling with me</span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">- "Don't Dream It's Over" by Crowded House</span></b></div>
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This time when I returned to Sydney I did not fall into despair, thinking my dreams were dead. I know that there will be plenty more adventures in my future, so long as I have my soulmate beside me. My whole world has opened up, quite literally in this case, thanks to a wonderful man who gives me courage. He kept me afloat while I was stuck in a queue at US customs and after a tyre blowout in the Scottish highlands.<br />
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I thought I'd learned most of the stuff I needed to know about travelling from my one epic trip to the UK in 2013. But there were plenty more experiences to be had this time around, especially as I hit up two new countries. So here you go, 15 essential points I gleaned from my 2015 trip.<br />
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<b>1) Never go to popular Northern Hemisphere destinations in summer.</b> Just don't. You will find yourself battling queues and crowds and your photos will always have someone's nose or hand in it.<br />
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<b>2) AVOID New York in July. </b>It is disgustingly hot and smelly.<br />
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<b>3) You may need to cross the road to reach your desired subway platform.</b> Check in advance to avoid panting and puffing.<br />
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<b>4) If you are visiting Toronto, don't stay in Hamilton.</b> Only two trains before 7am to get to Toronto? Dismal.<br />
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<b>5) Try to get to Niagara Falls either early in the morning or in the evening when it's not too hot.</b> It's also okay to park a little further away from the Falls to save money.<br />
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<b>6) Tim Hortons is a Breakfast God.</b><br />
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<b>7) Research the events going on in the place you intend to visit.</b> This stops you from accidentally going somewhere during a busy sporting event or a freaking parade.<br />
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<b>8) St Paul's Church is NOT St Paul's Cathedral. </b>You probably didn't need to hear this, but I wish I had.<br />
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<b>9) Always go the speed limit in Britain.</b> They too have discovered average speed cameras and they are not always obvious. On the flip side, you will annoy the shit out of people stuck behind you!<br />
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<b>10) Know how to change a tyre with confidence. </b>You never know when you'll be stranded near Loch Ness!<br />
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<b>11) Skye is the prettiest place on Earth.</b><br />
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<b>12) Always check seasonal opening times. </b>This is particularly helpful if the attraction is only open at 12pm or closes entirely for a few months.<br />
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<b>13) I can't wait to marry the man I love.</b><br />
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<b>14) Don't ever let yourself think you will never get to go on another epic trip!</b></span>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4491960001389269229.post-365909672376773532015-10-01T08:00:00.001+10:002021-10-03T21:18:05.949+11:00Days 27-30 - The Long Journey Home<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Day 27</span></b></div>
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Had a lazy morning involving a trip to Pret-A-Manger for a late breakfast. We found Waverley Station easily and began the long wait for our train to Kings Cross. I had to climb my way through a long queue to use the toilet! We got our luggage stowed without having to fight people then sat back to enjoy our first class trip. It’s always nice to travel in style.<br />
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When we arrived in London we took the taxi at 6pm to our hotel. It was still light and warm as we walked the short distance to the Gourmet Burger Kitchen across the Thames - we used the Millennium Bridge which is for pedestrians only. It still had slow-moving traffic, caused by tourists, nut vendors and idiots on their phones. We enjoyed our burgers in Southwark (along with an elderflower drink - I’ve become too fond of elderflower during this trip and I have no idea how I will survive without in Sydney) then it was my turn to cause a hold up on the bridge.<br />
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There are nice views either way on the Thames - especially if you want a shot of The Shard! I also realised how close we were to St Paul’s Cathedral (<i>not</i> St Paul’s Church which I mistakenly went to at the beginning of the British leg of our trip haha!), rebuilt after the Great Fire of London in 1666.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP_RFZdtSVcu58gT9L1qKjJ3XfNyY7aJoxsdRkG7fKKfEaeHfVzDtSrSPBsV7ROHzKPwim5rX4ibp29_nxTGJbSL6pgc62LP0K4FmpojnlbVAZlZX2gF0eCJSj72Ql6e_cv1a9lgWHCWc/s1600/day27one.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP_RFZdtSVcu58gT9L1qKjJ3XfNyY7aJoxsdRkG7fKKfEaeHfVzDtSrSPBsV7ROHzKPwim5rX4ibp29_nxTGJbSL6pgc62LP0K4FmpojnlbVAZlZX2gF0eCJSj72Ql6e_cv1a9lgWHCWc/s400/day27one.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A brilliant summer evening in London.</span></td></tr>
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The late evening lighting was beautiful on the cathedral, giving it an almost divine look. The blue sky above it - sublime. The closed doors drawing no tourists into my photos - perfect. One could have a religious experience just taking photos of it!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0Kq8ukUEkCCV3CpwZW1rQGxVlIMH5S4fm6inFPoD82si-vJRn4JvplJ3mesPf07PpixYlYX4eBlKW0WjborfOeMS6WOdpyJ8mye7Xd_FIHgd_UaX9KIGF14jzbdPqhQyGYPHPXese_E/s1600/day27two.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0Kq8ukUEkCCV3CpwZW1rQGxVlIMH5S4fm6inFPoD82si-vJRn4JvplJ3mesPf07PpixYlYX4eBlKW0WjborfOeMS6WOdpyJ8mye7Xd_FIHgd_UaX9KIGF14jzbdPqhQyGYPHPXese_E/s400/day27two.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">You can't ask for better lighting than that.</span></td></tr>
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Went back to the hotel. This trip is winding down. I don’t want to leave but I want to go home. I miss it. I miss reliable and fast wifi!<br />
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Hopefully the flight goes well tomorrow. May the Force be with me.</span><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
<br /><div style="text-align: center;">***</div></span><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Days 28-30</span></b></div>
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Yet another lazy morning before transferring to our “day room” where we passed the time with free wifi. We got to Heathrow a little after 6pm - did VAT refund, had food etc - then we were boarding, bound for Sydney via Dubai. I spent this first leg watching movies.<br />
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Dubai was far less painless than the flights. I always had someone behind me (a different person both times!) who kept putting their feet on my armrest! I crushed their toes with my elbows until they learned their lesson. Also, the button to put my chair back didn’t work which made me upset until an attendant revealed to me that there was another button under the chair. Thank goodness!<br />
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On the second leg I finished a book then listened to thunderstorm ambient music so I could sleep. Eventually I gave up, but soon enough we were in Sydney at 5:15am but wait - some non-QANTAS ground crew had left shit all over the bay we needed to pull into it. We had to wait for it to be cleared. Ugh.<br />
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Customs were not bothered to search our bags after we revealed we were declaring teabags. I suspect they rolled their eyes once they let us through. We were met by my parents outside and were driven home just as darkness lifted. :D<br />
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Our house-sitter, my future brother-in-law, had washed the bed sheets - what a wonderful thing to come home to!! Now to wash everything else…
</span></div></div>Cazhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09465706082136278574noreply@blogger.com0