Montlouis sur le Loire

Chateaus, vin rouge and hunting!!
We thought a few days lounging by the beautiful Loire River would be a great way to wind up our grand tour. An inspired choice by her indoors! The top pic is the view from our room at La Buisson. The Loire is the focus of this area: at this time of the year it is a sluggish old girl, but we were assured it comes to life when the rain falls on the hills.
The second pic is of Chenonceau castle, home to Diane de Poitiers and Mary Stuart at different times. There are over 30 of these chateaux in the valley- some tourists come to 'do' them all! Not us. 2 was plenty- honestly, they start to blend in with each other after a while, a bit like Hawthorn's premierships in the 80's.
So we rationed ourselves to a daily quota of 1 old building, one top meal, one dessert and one wine, with an afternoon nap thrown in!
Highlights were the Da Vinci expo at Clos Lucé, where the great man spent his last few years. Would you believe he carried the Mona Lisa and 2 other unfinished masterpieces in saddlebags on a mule across the Alps from Italy? Well that was his story anyway. I had been a little disappointed to have missed his work at other venues- this unexpected find more than made up for it.
At the Bardausiere castle (pic above) there are over 600 varieties of tomato in their potager (kitchen garden) We knew exactly 1 of them!
The valley is littered with 'Caves': cellars tunnelled into the cliffs which line much of the river. They provide an ideal storage for the local vignerons- and the local drop is a particularly good one.

This is the only Chevrolet I saw in France- and I was driving it! Thanks Hertz, it was supposed to be a Peugeot. At least it was easy for other motorists to see us coming (on the wrong side of the road).

This is for you, Mace- another for your collection of Big Things!


Our charming hosts Jean-Pierre and Nichole. He used to run 3 restaurants in Paris, and was enjoying the quiet life in Montlouis. His main worries now seem to be obnoxious Aussie tourists!
(Bruce & Noelene from Perth were cringe-worthy- don't get me started!) The best breakfasts so far- fresh croissants & baguettes, great coffee and the best selection of jams since my Mum used to make them back in the 60's...

So, a memorable visit: 4 Michelin stars!

Next: Gay Paree, the final act.

Bern; the surprise stop.

Right, pop quiz! What do we know about Bern?
Um, it's in the middle bit, where it's flatter.
Is it the capital?
Is it the home of Bernaise sauce?
Answers: Sort of, yes & no.
We had decided to make a dash for Paris and then the Loire Valley for the 4 or 5 days we had left swinging, so I says "Why not stay overnight in Bern and catch the fast train from there?"
One of my better ideas, as it transpired.
Bern is one of the easiest places to live in we have come across: we both fell in love with it. Cultured, quiet, organised and friendly- it was a real delight, and we were disappointed to only have 24 hours there. In a funny way it was very like Melbourne, without the cheeky kids and graffiti/vandalism!

Did you know Einstein was Bernese? He was travelling home from his work in the Patent Office near the big clock in the town square, when he formulated the ideas for his theory of Relativity. The clock is 2 minutes fast! At about 4 minutes to 12 every day, hordes of camera-wielding tourists come to take the obligatory pictures. I confess to being one of them, but it's all relative, of course....


They have a Bear Pit in the middle of town, a tradition which goes back hundreds of years. Ironically, the humans now descend into the pit to learn about the bears, who have a prime bit of Real Estate on the riverfront. This fellow recognised another Alpha male and came to growl at me.

Talking of Alpha males, this is for Alan McIvor. We all have our issues with the Post at times, but this is probably going too far........


The Swiss have a wicked sense of humour!
For instance, just look at Roger Federer's stand-up routines at the tennis.
This statue is right in the middle of the biggest square in Bern- every child in the city would be taken to see it. Needless to say no child misbehaves until they are more than a mouthful.

This couple are in the entrance to the Cathedral- they look like they were just put there last week, not hundreds of years ago.

So Bern was the biggest surprise of our trip- we expected a boring stopover, we got a charming place where we felt totally at home. A 5-egg omelette!!

Next: Not so Gay Paris, and the Loire Valley

Interlaken: the Hills are Alive...

After getting a taste for the mountains around Como, Interlaken seemed the logical next step.
Serious mountains, full of serious people furiously dashing hither and thither with their little clickity-click walking sticks. Mace had warned us about them, but they really are a different breed! Heaven help you if get in their way- it would be like getting between Rhonda and an apricot danish.
About the only ultra-motivated person in town was Dave, our ex-pat Pommy B & B owner. An ex-hippy who tolerates guests (barely) as long as they don't disturb his equilibrium (by asking daft questions or requesting anything). The one fast thing at Dave's was his internet- mind you he charged as much for 3 days as I pay a month at home!

Enough about Dave- he certainly motivated us to get the hell out of there each morning and hit the slopes. Maybe these people who threw themselves off the mountains attached to a flimsy sheet and some pieces of string had had similar experiences.
When we pictured the Alps, this is what we had in mind: clear skies, snow-capped peaks, jaw-droppingly beautiful scenery. For once the reality matched, even surpassed the dream!

I met these blokes on the top of Schilthorn. There were 20 or so, all dressed in this oufit, sitting on the side of the mountain at 3000 meters eating a schnitzel sandwich and drinking beer! My sort of club- maybe they were getting over the disappointment of their team getting knocked out of the finals!

One of the James Bond movies was famously filmed up here- the one where James is injured and some bird restores him to life only to fall hopelessly in love - does that narrow it down?
The American 'cheesiness' factor was high at this point, but mercifully it was fairly tastefully done.

Jungfrau is one of the highest peaks in Europe (Mont Blanc in France is #1 for you pedants out there) and just below, at about 3500 meters there is Jungfraujoch, the highest railway station in the world except for Everest. It took the Swiss engineers 16 years to tunnel through solid rock to make the trip possible. How on Earth did they know where they were digging 100 years ago? Or did they just keep going up and pretended that's where they were aiming for all along? A bit like Tony at Friday night tennis...
I am in a tunnel through solid ice linking the station with the snow field. I finally relented and brought out the long pants today!
The longest glacier in Europe is at your feet at Jungfrau. Scientists are anxiously looking for indications of global warming, and the signs are not promising. Book your flight in the next 50 years, kids!

Blow me down, by the time you get back to town , the paragliders have started to land! The thermals must be brilliant when the sun is warm like this- they seem to be able to hang up there as long as they want, and only come back to earth as the sun drops.

Interlaken: you've seen the movie, now experience the reality! Spend the kids' inheritance, eat authentic potato rösti with Bratwurst sausage washed down with a jug of beer and see scenery so spectacular it actually hurts your eyes. 4.5 stars (half a point deducted for Dave's poor attitude)

Next: Bern (Ho hum....)

Tremezzo, Lake Como

We knew that we would like the Lake Como area.
What's not to like? A million miles away from the fleshpots of Venice and Florence, a perfect location in the foothills of the Alps and a mild Mediterranean climate! No wonder Madonna, Ronaldhino, Versace and George Clooney were all sharing our little patch of heaven...

Our villa (above) was in Tremezzo, a small place about 10 kms from Como itself. It is best reached by boat- there is a constant stream of ferries on all parts of the lake day & night- but we punted on the local bus the first time. It proved to be the last. It was jam-packed with excited adolescents out from school early. It was the first week back and there was apparently a lot to talk about (and this is what Italians do best!) at top volume, while studiously ignoring the poor tourists perched precariously on the step clutching bags and cases.

With some gesturing and pantomime Italian, we made it in one piece. The trip was worth it: our villa was right on the lake, with a pool to ourselves, and was catching the late afternoon sun beautifully. It felt similar to Lake Wanaka in NZ in some ways, except that here the entire shoreline is inhabited and any spare land is covered in vines or olive groves. The lake is over 400 metres deep (as I kept informing the bride!) and at its lowest is below sea level. It's certainly an impressive stretch of water.


The Romans settled here (of course) and there is a local legend of a giant trireme built here which promptly sank, along with some treasure. It's still there, they say.

The other legend concerns Benito Mussolini, dictator of Italy, who met a sticky end here in 1945. More about him later...

The backdrop to the lakes are these very steep rocky mountains, impossibly studded with houses, shacks and even small villages in some cases! If you were looking to get out of touch for a while, I have a few suggestions for you. Look very closely at the above photo to see what I mean.


There is a new photo- opportunity round every corner here! Fortunately we were mostly on foot or on a slow ferry, so they didn't get wasted. The layers of hills receding into the distance will be a lasting image for me.


One one of our walks we found ourselves wandering through people's backyards, pushing their washing aside, getting a feel for the real Italy. I don't think we were lost, but it felt like it. We were certainly off the American tourist trail, which was a blessed relief. This shot is part of my new 'Framed' series- you have been warned!


On the same walk we got talking to an old bloke feeding the Swans at Lenno. He told us (with no English) about his life, his war injuries (shot in the leg, shoulder and arm) and his views on modern life (I think!) Then he turned to me, gave a little wink, and told me how Mussolini had been caught around here in 1945. (He was trying to flee to Switzerland with his mistress, but the partisans got him a few kms from his goal). He mimed shooting and stabbing motions, and spat on the ground. Was I talking to one of those involved? If only I could speak Italian....

Como: a little slice of heaven. 5 stars!

Next: Interlaken- REAL mountains!

Verona

'What's in a name?' she sighs.
When we were planning our itinerary back in Oz, these Northern Italian cities all sounded impossibly exotic and romantic. Florence, Siena, Bologna, Padua, Venice, Bolzarno and so on. In the end we took a punt on Verona, not really knowing much about it. We are very glad we did.
Of course, Juliet and her boyfriend Romeo feature largely here. We thought to avoid the cheesiest of the tourist traps, but quickly found ourselves at Juliet's house, where dozens of doe-eyed teenaged girls fondle the right breast of her statue while having their photos snapped by their slightly bemused boyfriends. I'm not sure of the significance, but I'm willing to go along with the practice. Gracie, any ideas?
Perhaps we should put up something similar in Kylie Minogue's old home?

The pleasing thing, though, was the tour through the house. Most tourists just do the photo and look up at the balcony and leave, but the house has 4 or 5 levels of seemingly authentic 16th century clothing, furniture, household items and so on. Some of it was from Zefferilli's film from the 70's. One of our favourite places.

Verona itself is an old Roman town on the mighty Aldige River.
Oh alright, it goes back to Etruscan times but never mind!
The town centre is dominated by a huge Arena, approaching the Colosseum in age and size, and which has been used pretty much constantly from the 1st century, except for a flat spot in the Dark Ages when most people stayed home and ate dung.
These days it has a show on most nights and seems to be quite the hub of the town. There is also an old Roman theatre which is in use as well.

Verona seemed a very youthful place- we thought we were the oldest ones there for quite a while! Quite a change after the geriatric Americans who infest Venice! Vibrant, bustling and friendly (I sound like a lonely Planet writer....)

For our last exploration, we went to Castelvecchio.
This old castle was full of statues, carvings, paintings and a bell you could ring! (Well, it didn't say not to.) Rhonda was quite happy as long as there were no ramparts to climb. As you can see, in my sincere attempt to find a quick exit, we did have to cross a small rampart, and unfortunately as it was a dead end we had to cross it again.

Verona; 4 stars! A fulfilling dish without too much cheese.

Next: Lago di Como

Venice!

Ahh Venice, they said we were crazy..

Only 2 nights?? For Venice? You'll need a week at least! Well, they were wrong. We came, we saw, and, like the Russian /American/Armenian guy in the next room, we were just a tad disappointed. Sure , she can offer up some stunning sunsets, and the views are jaw-dropping at times, but she is an old dame who has seen better days, and sad to say she is very slowly but surely slipping into the lagoon. Rising sea levels will just about finish her off, I'm afraid, and there's not much anyone can do about it. If only we still still had slaves and a feudal system, we could get a few things done- but no, everyone is too worried their rights and freedom to pursue their goals. I blame the Americans!

We felt like 'tourists' for the first time here.

Venice has 22 million visitors every year. Say that slowly...twenty two million. More than Australia's population every year.
We expected them to run a fairly tight ship, but really, you are like a rat in a psychology experiment, running up and down tunnels, getting little rewards and then gently prodded in the next direction. The director of this giant social experiment must be having a chuckle at the thought of all these people from around the world coming here to spend bucketloads of money to see .... exactly the same things as everyone else!


Our hotel owner must have been a rebel- perhaps part of the Green Party movement that we stumbled into on arrival (their platform seemed to be free beer and funny hats- my sort of party)
He advised us to flee the main island to check out Burano and Torcello. So we did. The tower at Burano has got serious left-leaning tendencies! Can you believe it hangs over a school playground? (and has done for centuries, probably) What would Workcover make of it?
These two small islands seemed a million miles away from Venice- quiet, laid back and relaxed. We had found our Venice.

And finally, for all of us who look at big things and wonder 'how much?', this little runabout has the answer on its bow.

Next: Get thee to Fair Verona

Florence: the wrap

Florentine thoughts; (to be consumed with a shot of espresso and a sweet pastry)
Michelangelo's Dave- he is everywhere! Literally in your face at the Gallery, in the main square just in case you missed that, or alternatively at every little street stall for to take one home! Rhonda was impressed by the extraordinary anatomical detail of his .... forearms!! (at least I think that's what she mumbled)

I saw a pair of boxers in the colours of the Italian flag and with a pic of David's goolies on the front. Laugh? I thought of you, Sutts, but Rhonda wouldn't let me buy a pair.


City of statues! If you don't watch out, you'll poke your eye out on one. This fellow looks down on the shoppers on the Ponte Vecchio. He doesn't seem too impressed with all the decadence, and I'm with him on that one. I saw a lot of worried blokes holding hands with their women- too scared to let go in case of a huge Visa bill next month!

Lots of American girls being sized up by young Italian males.

And is it just me or are a lot of Italian men punching way above their weight?

I must be going a bit golf-crazy. 3 weeks without a hit now- I found myself mentally playing a lob wedge to this tight little green on the Arno River. Fore!!

For me , the enormity of this city makes you a bit blase to its extraordinary beauty, and to the years and years of work which these people devoted to their art. (Unless you were Caravaggio, who seemed to get by with a quick masterpiece after breakfast, a seduction or two by lunch, a short siesta in the afternoon before a spot of murder and mayhem at night. Sounds a lot like a Sutton & Macer footy trip, eh?

This pic shows some detail, almost inconsequential, in one of the buildings in Annunciata Square. This building's purpose was to care for abandoned children. A little like MEC in a way?
Each one is a little masterpiece.

And then there were the 4 turtles (NOT the teenage mutant ninja kind!) we saw holding up two giant marble towers, one in each corner. The little sign there explained how these two towers marked the course for chariot races in Roman times. See the pic on Facebook.

Smells, sights, sounds & tastes: Florence has wormed its way into our hearts. We have vowed to return one day and do all the things we missed- including riding to the Chianti on a vespa!

PS Just heard the Swans lost to the Bulldogs! I am shattered...


Next: Venice or bust!

First thoughts on Florence

Took the last train out of Manarola, heading South!
Good idea for a song, eh? Actually it was an early train, and it meant we had to fill in 2 hours in La Spezia, not a town high on the tourist trail. But on the upside, we did see this monk who looked like he was auditioning for a role in the next Dan Brown book. (There is symbolism to die for here, Dan)
La Spezia is a working port, a naval base and not a whole lot else that we could see. 2 words of advice: Don't try to go down a tunnel, and always carry an umbrella! (Ask Rhonda to explain)

Wow! This is a big room with a cathedral-sized ceiling. Florence hotels are huge, luxuriously appointed and ridiculously cheap. Don't tell anyone in case they put the prices up!
Internet in the room, cable TV, big breakfast with eggs, how could you go wrong?

Ponte Vecchio: we came, we saw, we ran!
Some women go weak at the knees at the sight of all that bling: not mine, she is made of sterner stuff. The oldest bridge in Florence, in fact the only one to survive Nazi occupation in WW2. Th story goes that Mussolini knocked holes in these walls from the 14th century so that Hitler would have a better view when he stayed there.

My sister warned me that there would be more penises than a St Kilda Grand Final Dinner Dance! She was right- an exquisite range. Rhonda has taken to comparisons lately, which could be a bit concerning. Apparently David measures up very nicely.

Statues everywhere: if you didn't get your own statue in the 1500's you were judged to be a failure. Some of them are really good. This bloke saved Venice from the Saracens (or some such group) Good for him.

Random thoughts on Florence after 24 hours.
Marble everywhere, much of it in penises.
Dirty streets, strange smells wafting.
Narrow streets ending in a beautiful piazza (how you say, town square, scusa mi)
Motor bikes!!

Next: Considered thoughts (after more than 5 minutes in Florence), and we try to explore Tuscany!

Cinque Terre: Multo Buono!!

Ahh , the Cinque Terre!
The '5 Lands' so-called because they had been isolated from the rest of Europe for so long. They even developed their own dialect in Manarola, where we stayed for 3 days.
Impossibly perched on the edge of sheer cliffs dropping to the Mediterranean, these multi-coloured buildings have some of the best views imaginable. Our apartment was at the very top of the steepest street in the village. Well worth it though!
And to think that we had never heard of this area until a few years ago when Shoni & Simon stopped here on their European trek and came back with some amazing shots.

The water was beautiful! I must have impressed the tourists with my death-defying dives into the water, as they all averted their gaze while muttering indecipherable words of wonder!
The water is incredibly clear, very buoyant and as warm as Cairns in May. Magic...



Our apartment was quite modern, reasonably priced and split level: more stairs to climb after the long hike up the hill! Our calves were rippling with new-found muscles after 3 days. The view from the terrace was memorable.

We checked out the other 4 villages using the coastal train system (a very handy development for the tourists) and the walking path. I wanted to walk the whole thing (and in less time than Tony & Debbie) but it started raining so Rhonda refused, and, considerate husband that I am, I agreed to catch the train. This pic is at Monterosso, just before the deluge. Notice the sandy beach: it's the only one in the Cinque Terre. Soft!! Give me rocks and a ten metre plunge any day.


Our last meal was a seafood spectacular from 'Billy's", a trattoria close to our apartment. Not a bad view, eh? We were regaled with tales of daring and disappointment by our waiter, an old toothless fisherman who thought I was talking about him when I said the food was 'deliciosa'. Oh how we laughed! I think he is coming to visit us in Australia if his wife lets him sail. He would be a good addition to Friday night tennis.


Next: Florence; I feel a masterpiece coming on...

Genova to the Cinque Terre

We left Nice earlier than expected.
It meant a stopover in Ventimiglia- the first Italian town on our tour. It was a little gem- a smallish town with a good beach and a lovely seaside trattoria. Palm trees, gum trees, a pebbly beach and old women who (mostly) kept their gear on. A couple of beers, a bowl of gnocchi and a salad for the little woman! Very Italian- I felt like going off and having a game of cards and a smoke with the old men on the foreshore. Settled for a gelati instead- Rhonda's mission is to sample as much of the gelati on offer as is humanly possible in 5 weeks. Might have to pay excess baggage on the way home!

Then to Genova/Genoa. Home of Christopher Columbus, and don't they let you know about it! It is a remarkable city, in many ways as grand as Paris, but a little tatty around the edges lately. They have been a formidable power in this part of the world- very good traders and palace-builders. There are Palaces everywhere, mostly serving as museums now.

After a pleasant afternoon & evening taking in the sights and getting hopelessly lost, (a touch of Macer's Random Tours remained from France) we caught the early train along the Ligurian coast to Manarola, the loveliest village in the Cinque Terre, according to Rhonda who is an authority on these things.

As you can see, it is a very pretty village dating back to the 1300's, its inhabitants eking out a living from fishing, grape and olive production, and fleecing gullible Western tourists. Good luck to them- they have done it tough!

Every square inch of ground is accounted for here- the alleyways are impossibly narrow- there are no cars allowed in town, mainly because they can't turn around even if they could fit into the one main street, which is lined with the fishing boats pulled up outside their owners' houses like cars at Newstead footy ground. Hundreds of them.

Rhonda's instant assessment of Manarola: The food, the old Italian couples with bandy legs, the gelati, the local food, the bells getting you up in the morning and steep climbs that would keep a physio in work for life!

Three days here will not be difficult...

Next: Things get tough in the CQ

Goodbye Brigitte! Avignon and Nice

I knew it would all end in tears!
Farewell and bon voyage to Pernes, the 'gite' and to Aude, her chocolate gateau, her aubergine mousse and her never-ending parade of bikinis!
Notice the tears welling in all our eyes: Aude and her husband/brother/uncle (we never did find out) with relief to be finally rid of us, the rest of us with sadness at the end of a great holiday.


Having put Tony and Debbie onto the very fast train to Paris and London, we explored Avignon for a couple of hours before our train left for Nice.
Avignon has a long history back to the Roman times (of course!) and was for a time in the Middle Ages the head of the Catholic church before the Vatican regained control. The Popes of Avignon made sure the city ramparts were up to scratch keeping the barbarians out. Nowadays it is overrun by busloads of American tourists looking to dance 'sur le pont d'Avignon'. We took one look and fled!

Me and Brigitte having a final moment! Le Peugeot 3008 avec sat-nav, oui? She did us proud, and I only put us in danger twice, once pulling in front of a bloody great truck (I swear I was in the right!) and once nearly cleaning up an old biddy in a 404 (not sure who would have won that one).

Nice station: they really know how to do railway stations here!

On the beach at Nice: we were strangely unimpressed by Nice. Very busy, trams down the main street like St Kilda Rd, heaps of shops & cafes and a huge beach full of topless women (many of whom would have been well-advised to cover up!) So why did we not like it? Don't know (accompanied by a Gallic shrug of the shoulders and raised hands)......

Next: Genova/Genoa and the Cinque Terre