London, Bocken....tripping around the UK

It's hard to believe that my jaunt is nearing its end. It's been over a month since we hit the UK and in that time I've covered a fair amount of ground.

Firstly in London, Rachel, Cathryn and I had to revisit the old haunts - and add in a few new ones of course. This meant going up the London Eye, visiting the Fish Man in Leicester Square, browsing at Covent Garden, shopping in Harrods and the Kings Road, pottering through Piccadilly, checking out how old places of employment had changed...and of course visiting the Chelsea Flower Show. This naturally sent Cathryn off into a frenzy, particularly after she spotted Alan Titchmarsh and elbowed her way to the front of the crowd. Hilary was also on a mission to stock up on a few 'small' items which would grace the gardens at Bocken, including a large fuschia which had to accompany her on the train home. Fortified by Pimm's, she made it back safely of course, while we were transfixed by Eurovision instead.

Within a week of our arrival it was time to bid farewell to Rachel as she returned to the real world - the first one of us to fly on the new A380 SQ double decker, which she said was exciting for the first fifteen minutes and then just became the usual long plane trip. As it was Cathryn's birthday we consoled ourselves with a visit to Windsor after the goodbyes at Heathrow before returning to Bocken.

After a few days of tripping around Buckingshire and walking Pud etc, we then set off for a few days in Cornwall where we visited Bude, Wadebridge, Port Isaac, Tintagel, Padstowe, Penzanze, St Michael's Mount and St Ives. They were all rather charming in their own way, especially when the sun was out (ie not raining). Of course, we also had to indulge in fish and chips by the seaside, Cornish clotted cream, Cornish pasties and the local St Austell beer.

A few more days back at Bocken meant jaunts to local places like Marlow and Henley and a game of Twenty20 cricket at the Oval, then it was time to set off for a visit to Sharon and Lucy in Edinburgh. Finally I got to check out the Ness shops where I predictably indulged in a bit of retail therapy, although I did draw the line at the entirely coordinated outfit down to the Wellies with matching tartan. Luckily for us, our hosts had prepared recommended cafes and other eating/drinking establishments so we were able to keep our strength up. We also managed a visit to Roslyn Chapel, met the Fergussons, and visited Concorde - in a hangar but at least I can say I've been on it now. Extra excitement was added by the daily pyromaniac-induced bin fires in the street below Lucy's flat in Leith which kept the local firemen busy. It was a fun long weekend!

This brought us to Cathryn's last week and a visit to William Morris' home at Kelmscott in Oxfordshire, and of course the requisite visit to the gift shop for those essential purchases. It was also Bruce's birthday so I decided to be brave and cook him Beef Wellington, with thanks to Robert Carrier for the recipe of course. After a few stressful moments, it all went off well. The dinner also signified the end of Miranda's exams and Cathryn's imminent return to Australia. Another trip to Heathrow and now I'm the last of the Antipodeans left.

In my last week I did manage to fit in a few days in beautiful Istanbul so that I could buy all the things that I foolishly left there in April. Despite the heat, it was still beautiful and I'll definitely be going there again. I conquered the public transport system, visited Dolmabahce Palace (Turkey's largest building), splurged in the Grand Bazaar, and commiserated with the soccer-mad locals when their team was beaten by the Germans in the last minute of the Euro semi-final. Most importantly, I managed to avoid being shown a single carpet, although I did have a few cups of tea at the friendly insistence of the locals!

Last night Hilary, Bruce and I went to the Globe Theatre to see an excellent production of 'The Merry Wives of Windsor' which was hilarious. It was also a great experience to see it performed as it would have been in Shakespeare's time, with the actors so close you could touch them. Even more amazingly, we saw the show for a fiver each since we were happy to stand in the Yard, as the plebs would have done 500 years ago.

Now I'm down to the last two days which means packing, packing and more packing! I'm sure it will all fit - or rather, it will all have to fit since the tea chest has already been filled. Hmmm......so much to see and buy, so little time, money and space. Oh well, there's always the next trip to plan, and I can't really complain when my little jaunt has been enjoyed over nearly seven months with visits around the UK, Italy, Turkey, Greece, Spain and France. It's a hard life but someone has to do it!

Words of wisdom from the trip

Here is a list of the sayings which caused us lots of amusement, but others probably won't get. Oh well...we laughed!

"Hey, Air Conditioner!" - Douglas to Erkan, and Erkan would answer to this
"Pampuke!" - Douglas' version of the town called Pamukkale
"Okay!!!" - Douglas' problem solving techique which I'm going to try with my classes. You have to imagine saying this with your voice distinctly rising at the end and with a huge yet insincere smile on your face
"On! Not arn" - Douglas again! This time trying to say 'his' number in Turkish for the head count
"Ah...it's nice here. Perfect for the Leading Small Exclusive Luxury Boutique Castle Hotels of the World: Ürgüp" - Rachel's idea to extend the EE
"No! Impossible!" - Jose. We found this works with just about anything!
"Tch tch tch tch...." with finger waving - Jose
The Chicky Chicky Dance - Spain's entry in the Eurovision Song Contest. Yes, be very afraid!
"My parents are pretending to go to the sea so if you want to stay that would be any problem" - Jose...ah, Spanglish!
"It's quite European here you know" - Rachel. Yes, that's because we were in Madrid!
"Do that Call to Prayer again and your thong will break" - Rachel's warning about incurring the wrath of Allah
"I'm not asleep you know!" - Rachel (although she doesn't remember saying this so it sort of makes you think she wasn't really awake either!)
"Yellow shoes!!!" - Rubee's sleepy random ranting
"We've been on the road too long - delirium has set in" - Rachel (well, of course we were tired)
"Spasque" - Rachel (for when you can't remember which language you can't speak or understand ie Spanish and Basque)
"What is it with the EuroMullet here?" - Jane (the Spanish appear to have lost their way as gurus of style!)
"It's not a competition you know!" - Rachel, referring to number of photos taken each day, and just about everything really
"That's not flamenco you goose - it's flam-unco" - Rachel. How unkind!
"I'll be the buffer zone" - Rachel's attempt to save me from Cathryn's snoring
"Flamboyant gothic style!?! Could work with anything really. All you need are a few gargoyles..." -Rachel's architectural inspirations
"Eleven cheeses in one day!!! That's a new record" - Rachel clogging her arteries
"What? I only had seven!" - Cathryn's reply. But it's not a competition you know!
"There are lots of fountains here...is there a toilet nearby?" - Rachel in Villandry
"This is the famous Café de Flore, not de Ceiling" - Jane
"Oh my God!!! It's Alan Titchmarsh!!!!" - Cathryn, shoving people out of the way at the Chelsea Flower Show
"Who's that geezer then?" -Rachel. She obviously needs Foxtel
"Good heavens! That clematis is only a tenner. But how would I get that home on the Tube?" - Hilary (referring to a 12 foot high plant, whilst already wrestling with a substantial fuschia)
"I'm off to do the B&B pyjama walk" - Rachel, in search of a bathroom at the Ridgemount

Paris in the Spring time!

Apologies for the delay in getting this updated - for some reason there was a crisis with the autosave option and it kept cancelling what I had done. One was not amused! Still, it all seems to be okay now...so, where was I?

Ah, yes....the final part of our continental jaunt and our last chance to experience driving with Hugues, although it must be said that both Rachel and I were quite happy to let the other one drive that leg. In the end though, Rachel stepped up to the challenge and off we went. It was all going smoothly until we hit roadworks on the ring road and then became slightly disoriented with the unhelpful signage (how French!), but we did eventually make it to the Gare SNCF - once we had found the Avis office tucked in a corner and determined exactly where to abandon Hugues. In total we drove 758kms over the three days - not bad and the scenery was so beautiful in many places. It was nice there!!!!

Having safely handed over Hugues' key, we then discovered that there was a strike happening that day as the transport people took the opportunity to vent their frustration at Sarkozy's retirement/pension overhaul. This meant that instead of taking our planned train, we were able to 'enjoy the ambience' of Rouen's station for almost three hours, watching the riot police strolling back and forth looking for trouble, imbibing café créme and eating baguettes stuffed full of camembert, and of course, then there was the expected bunfight to get on the train with all of the luggage. This was easier than expected for the hour-long journey into Paris' Gare St Lazare on the double decker train which afforded good views over the countryside. Cathryn even spotted Monet's Giverny as we passed through Vernon.

Our arrival into the city also brought our penultimate trudge with all of the baggage. Thank heavens - I think we were all a bit over the backpacks by then, especially since Rachel and I had been moving every day or so with them for over six weeks by that stage. Eventually we made our way to the hotel that Rachel had booked a few days before over the internet (after a nice guy at the bistrot on the corner interrupted his lunch to point us in the right direction), only to discover that the hotel in question had cancelled our booking and it was full anyway. This was despite our confirmation of the booking. Hmmm.....still, it was all sorted out in the end after some tense moments and we were soon ensconced next door at the four star Le Petit Manoir instead.

Finally we were able to set off on a promenade through the city, starting with Galleries Lafayette to see if Rachel needed to purchase her 'Empire' Gien plates. She was strong though - backpacker fatigue had well and truly set in making the thought of more fragile things to carry quite unpalatable. She did point out the gorgeous dessert plates which I will add to my never-ending list of things to purchase since you can never have too many of such items. Next we stopped in Printemps for an overdue coffee, then we caught a sardine style Metro to Montmatre for a stroll around the vineyard, Sacré Coeur and the Place du Tertre. We bought crépes from the little 'hole in the wall' for dinner and wound our way on foot back to the hotel, stopping at the bistrot where the man had earlier helped with directions to have large beers (as a delayed reaction to dropping off Hugues) and Rachel indulged in a créme brulée. Back in the hotel, the evening ended with us being sucked into watching some of Eurovision, including a snippet of Spain's 'Chicky chicky' song. Truly frightening!!!

Our last day on the continent involved the obligatory coffee stop at the Café de Flore (not de Ceiling as Dad remembers it by) on Boulevard St Germain, a final indulgence at the Fragonard shop, a closer look at the gargoyles on Notre Dame, a walk along the Seine down to the Champs Élysées and back along the Rue du Rivoli, and finally, a quick trip back to Montmatre to check out the cafe used in Amélie. Phew!!! And that was all before the final trek to the Gare du Nord to catch our Eurostar to London - First Class of course! The journey naturally included being served tea - with a choice of a hot or cold meal (chicken with couscous or a cheese selection), and the time passed rather quickly. Before too long we were arriving in the new fandangled St Pancras Station which only opened a few months ago and then took a cab to the Ridgemount (£5 for the cab vs £12 on the Tube - go figure their extortionate pricing system!). Mr and Mrs Reese are just the same, and our room overlooks the back garden so it's nice and quiet.

Being pushed for time and given that it was a perfect evening, we dumped the gear and headed down along Charing Cross Road (via the Fish Man in Leicester Square) to the Eye. Sadly, it closed for tickets just as we got there so it will have to wait for another day. Instead we stopped at Pizza Express for a late dinner before returning to the Ridgemount for more compulsive Eurovision viewing. Hmmm....

Bayeux, that tapestry and the D-Day Beaches

Rachel's driving tally:
Number of times trying to go on the wrong side of the road - 2
Number of stalls -3 (but these took place on a roundabout so double points)
Number of times gutter was hit - 1 (but this is important to establish boundaries on car)
Number of comments about fandangled on-board computer and inexplicable beeping - lost count Estimated number of kilometres going in wrong direction - about 20 (but I was navigating so I must take some responsibility for this. When I drove and Rachel directed we didn't get lost at all. There may be something in that)

Despite her claims that she wouldn't be able to sleep given her excitement at being in her castle, Rachel did manage to do so and report on her dream the next morning - she loves her 'travel jeans' so much that she wore them to work back in Canberra, and was only mildly disturbed to discover that her place of employment had instigated a bake-off competition in her absence. I wish I could remember my dreams! We had a little stroll in the gardens before our breakfast of croissants and hot chocolate, as well as some photos in the chair salon, and then it was time to bid farewell to Nicole, drag Rachel into the car, and set off with me driving, this time to Normandy.

The drive was beautiful - sun dappled hills, church spires in the distance over the trees, orchards and cows in the fields, quaint little villages...it was quite hard to take really. We stopped for a lunch of tartines (ie toasted sandwiches) in a little town called Flers and stocked up on a pastry or two for later, before continuing on to Bayeux, famous of course for the 70 metre long tapestry which records the battle of Hastings in 1066 and the subsequent installation of William the Conqueror on the throne of England. We managed to completely fluke a free park right in the main square outside the law courts and our luck held as we then managed to get a room for the night in a gorgeous little hotel called La Reine Matilde right across the river. It's mentioned in the LP for the desserts at the restaurant downstairs - what more could we want? And the view from our room just happens to be over the Cathedral and the flag bedecked Town Hall. Not bad!!! All the rooms are named after people of some obvious historical significance, but I'm afraid none of us have worked out exactly who Bertil was. Oh well! He was probably a friend of William's but beyond that, he's a mystery. We had a restorative drink and then headed out for a walk in the beautiful little streets, visited the internet cafe and ate in the restaurant downstairs, managing to resist the desserts given our chantilly cream overdose in Tours.

Before our departure from the unexpectedly delightful Bayeux the next day, we set off for a visit to see the aforementioned famous tapestry, which was well organised with a pithy English commentary about what each scene meant. The arrival of floods of primary students (both English and French) signalled the end of our visit, including a look in the shop of course, so off we set in Hugues once again, this time for the D-Day beaches. Our first stop was Utah Beach, followed by Omaha (made famous at least for me by 'Saving Private Ryan'). These two were where the Americans landed, but at Omaha they encountered much more resistance from the Germans. Consequently, near this beach is the huge American cemetery where nearly 10,000 graves are marked with perfectly aligned white crosses. It illustrates the complete waste of war and yet lessons still haven't been learnt. Continuing on we managed to find Juno beach where the Canadians landed, but we gave up in the end trying to find the two where the Brits landed. Instead we decided to head off to Rouen where we had booked accommodation for the night - excellent in theory but it involved going through Caen which was sprawling and confusing. Despite my patchy navigating though we did eventually make it to Cléon, just out of Rouen, where Rachel acted on a hunch and somehow we fluked finding the hotel. It just goes to show that some things are meant to work out!

Two days, six châteaux and only 418 photos (taken mostly by Rachel)

Our castle exploration didn't quite work out as expected - since Tours, despite being a tourist centre, doesn't have car hire places open on Sundays. Hmmmm! So, no wheels meant a revision of our plans and the booking of a minibus tour for the afternoon at the cost of €26 each (and on top of that we had to pay to get into each of the châteaux!!!) but we did get the chance to have a look around Tours in the morning, including the beautiful Old Town with its rickety wooden buildings and the OTT 'flamboyant Gothic' cathedral. It's nice here - and to paraphrase Rachel, quite French! After a baguette lunch at the station we set off on our tour, driven by Julien and accompanied by two other Australians, two Americans and an Italian woman who predictably was late for each meeting point.

Château #1 - Amboise
Da Vinci died here, and so coincidentally did King Charles VIII who expired after hitting his head on a door frame on his way to watch a game of tennis. Despite this bad luck, the castle itself was rather lovely, with beautiful views over the town. It also had the requisite vaulted ceilings, manicured gardens, stained glass windows, gargoyles, guard towers, spiral staircases big enough for the horses (or honkeys) to clatter up and down...needless to say, Rachel is getting lots of ideas and is quite taken with the Flamboyant Gothic style.

Château #2 - Clos Lucé
Home of da Vinci in his final years and where he came up with many of his inventions. Apparently he brought the 'Mona Lisa' here too. It was much more homely than Amboise with a pretty Renaissance garden.

Château #3 - Chenonceau
Stunning! The one with the arched bit over the river and formal gardens on each side, as well as Rachel's preferred driveway (ie gravel, archway of trees, long run for Gretel to greet guests). It's the picture perfect, quintessential French château. It was also the home of nasty pasty Catherine de' Medici who demanded it on the death of her husband, evicting her husband's mistress on the way. The only negative was the jostling crowd inside (and out come to think of it), and the fact that I was suffering from caffeine deprivation by the time we had finished.

Here ended our bus tour, so we set off back to the cute restaurant square in the Old Town for gallettes (with raclette, prosciutto and potato - yummo!) and beer while enjoying the interesting translations on the menu - check out the pics and spot them yourselves. Having missed opportunities to overload our arteries since the feta in every form overdose, we then chose to indulge in dessert - I had a crêpe with raspberries, with nougat gelato and half a can of chantilly cream, Cathryn had one with chocolate and banana (and the other half of the can of cream) while Rachel ordered a banana split since it came with a sparkly thing - well, really, how could she resist?

Photo tally for the day - Rachel wins with 105, Cathryn took 75 while I somehow managed about 80!

The next day began with the hiring of Hugues, our Ford Mondeo for the next few days. Yes, yes, we did want to Renault (preferably a Migraine aka Megane), Citreon or a Peugeot, but it was not to be, and at least all the baggage fits in the boot. It also has a fandangled on board computer which we are a bit too scared to play with (given the lack of a manual or anything useful) and very senstive sensors which beep alarmingly whenever anything comes too close, particularly when you are reversing. After our introduction to continental driving on Santorini, with Rachel driving and me navigating, we set off for....

Château #4 - Villandry
Famous for its vast formal gardens following the axis design rule - I'm sure it would have sent Mr Meich off into a frenzy. Apparently it takes four gardeners four months just to keep the lime trees in line, and the garden beds must all be weeded by hand since the box hedges have delicate roots. Cathryn predictably was in yet another frenzy snapping away at anything green/plantish, while Rachel decided that she needed to get 'her people' onto sorting out her garden ready for her return.

Château #5 - Azay-le-Rideau
This is a cute moated castle - not too big and not too small. If one had to live in a castle then this would be adequate. Although it does bear to keep in mind that the pantry alone was probably the same size as the whole kitchen/dining area in my house.

Château #6 - Le Château de Montriou
This castle happened to be our accommodation for the night, fulfilling Rachel's dream of staying in a real castle, and this family owned one fit the bill. 500 years old and quite lovely. To get there though we had to negotiate the peak hour traffic on our first jaunt around the périfèrique which was a bit scary, but we obviously made it in the end. Nicole, the châtelaine, left us instructions to ring the bell near the chapel to let her know we had arrived since she was busy planting out her famous pumpkins in the gardens, and she rode up to the castle on her bicycle to meet us. Before long we were settled in our attic suite with enough time to have a stroll around the impressive gardens before dinner. This we had in the bistrot in a nearby village, dining in their oak beamed dining room. The food was presented beautifully, and Rachel decided to end her meal with a bit of cheese, St Nectaire as it turned out. I guess the cheese could have been quite nice but her €3.90 slice minus bread or anything else was a little on the stingy side. We drove back in the mild twilight in time for one last stroll in the gardens before retiring to our suite to plan the next leg of the journey. It's nice here!!!

Donostia and beyond

Well, I'm only running two countries behind at this stage so I'm having to resort to my journal to try and remember what I actually did.

Hmmm.....Donostia was rather lovely. We ended up booking into a little hostal two streets back from the Playa della Concha run by the very friendly Miguel who had a penchant for giving neck massages whenever he passed by. Still, he was very enthusiastic about sharing his knowledge of his town and gave us many suggestions for the best bars, restaurants and discos where we would be sure to meet some suitably handsome Basque chicos...alas, we didn't quite make it to any of his recommendations though. However, the multilingual conversation in Basque, Spanish, Italian and Sign was pretty funny, and foolishly or not, he did give us the password for the free internet at the hostal which I made good use of until I was booted off by someone working there who actually needed it.

The Old Town near the beach was the first destination on our usual exploratory walk, admiring the beautiful architecture, stylish promenades and manicured parks along the way. It has a relaxed vibe here - what you would expect of a place known as a holiday destination of the rich and famous (not us sadly) and the stylish (of course we fit into this category). We had a coffee and then decided to be brave and try the famous local pintxos, their version of tapas. Basically, the idea is that you peruse the selection of snacks along the bar and make your choice, piling them up on your plate. Each pintxo will have a toothpick in it, so at the end you count up your toothpicks and pay for what you ate - or in our case we paid up first to avoid any embarassing mistakes since we couldn't actually name what we had eaten. Well, you try and read Basque successfully, I say! The food was washed down with a glass of the local fizzy white wine txakoli (pronounced like chug-o-lee) which has to be poured from a great height to allow more fizz. Sadly though, the drink portions were rather small so Rachel and I were quite justified in sampling the sangria too.

The next morning we managed to leave the hostal in search of breakfast without running into Miguel again, thus avoiding another spanitaliano conversation about which discos we should have checked out. We also decided that other linguistic combinations could include 'Frasque' for French/Basque, and of course 'Spasque', for Spanish/Basque. After feasting on pastries, fresh orange juice and coffee for breakfast (although somewhat alarmingly they seem to think it's perfectly reasonable to blow cigarette smoke all over your food while they sit at the bar next to it) we set off to organise the bus tickets for tomorrow's trip across the border (surprisingly easy...what is it with these people??) and a stroll along the river, where we met a chatty gentleman who thought we looked Basque and assumed we were locals. When he found out that we were just Australian tourists he told us all about pintxos even though we had already told him that we'd had them the night before - maybe he just wanted to show off his English skills. In any event we bade him farewell and continued our walk to the surfing beach where we might have found some swell if we were equipped with binoculars, checked out the weird cube contraption of a convention centre and had a coffee in honour of Dad's birthday. Back over the river we decided to walk up to the Jesus statue at the top of Monte Urgull to enjoy the stunning view in the perfect sunshine, stopping on the way up to see the free museum exhibits there. By the time the photographic frenzy had finished it seemed like a good idea to take the Txu Txu Train (ie choo choo) around the city and finally have a late lunch/early dinner/postcard writing session before returning to the hostal to sort out accommodation for France. We did make it out to a little bar near the Cathedral for one last beer/coffee before the pesky locals encroaching more and more on our table eventually drove us out to prepare for our departure once again.

The next morning we escaped from the hostal without seeing Miguel again (so no neck massage then) and made it onto our 9am bus bound for Biarritz. The scenery along the way was beautiful of course, with the Pyrenees forming a backdrop on one side and glimpses of the coast on the other, despite the dreary weather. Biarritz is probably well worth a visit but time, or rather the lack of left luggage facilities in France, meant that it wasn't practical. Besides, 3 1/2 hours waiting in the train station cafe was just what we were looking for since it gave me a chance to update my journal, drink bad coffee and good Orangina, and have a Croque Monsieur.

The rest of the day was spent on trains - 2 1/2 hours on one TGV to Bordeaux then 3 hours on another to St-Pierre-des-Corps (1st class is the only way to travel, naturally!), and then finally 5 minutes on a little navette to Tours, with us arriving just as a huge thunderstorm decided to open up above us. Ironically, we had just been talking about how on all of our previous trips we had been uncannily lucky about the weather, but not any more! Either that, or we need to change Crowded House's 'Always take the weather with you'. Our hotel was stylish and surprisingly cheap (once we got there, having waited out the storm) so after a pizza dinner down the road, we were soon ensconced in front of BBC World with the map out planning the next bit of the trip involving car hire - ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Up to the Atlantic Coast

Well, it's been a while since I updated this. I was full of good intentions and planned to sort it all out at Rubee's, including uploading the pictures, but somehow the time flew and nothing got done. Hmmmm....

Anyway, the last time I wrote this we were being rained on rather profusely in Granada - in fact it was tipping down so much that Cathryn decreed that the new elocution practice should be 'the rain in Spain falls mainly on bloody Granada'. It didn't just sprinkle I might add - each time the heavens opened it was probably Adelaide's annual rainful. However, it did eventually stop and we were able to venture into the old Arabic Quarter of the city following the LP's suggested walk. This meant that we enjoyed the view from the square facing the Alhambra (which sent Cathryn off into a new frenzy) as well as pottering down the little street filled with tiny Arabic tea shops. Of course this entailed trying Morrocan mint tea for Rachel while I sipped away on a very sweet but nice vanilla tea. Yummo!!! By this stage we were ready for a siesta so it was a good excuse to crash out for a while waiting for Rubee and her friend Arianna to arrive from their exciting five hour bus journey from Madrid. Lucky things!!!!

Before we knew it, it was time to grab some dinner and head up for our night tour of the Nasrid Palaces in the Alhambra. I have to say that there aren't many places where it makes perfect sense to begin a tour at 11pm at night, but in Spain, why not? The plaster stucco work in the palaces was amazing but I have to say that I think it was just as good at the Alcazar in Seville. The other problem was a general lack of lighting so photos were tricky to take, not to mention the fact that the bit I really wanted to see with the Patio of the Lions was under restoration so we missed it. Drats!!! Still, it was pretty impressive. A short trek back down the hill gave us time to meet up with Rubee and Arianna, who at midnight, had just finished dinner. Only in Spain!!! A few drinks and a lot of talking and we finally made it back to the hostal for the night.

The next day after a belated breakfast we set off to see the Royal Chapel which houses the tombs of Ferdinand and Isabella, the king and queen of Spain responsible for the defeat of the Moorish leader and subsequent conquest of the Alhambra. They also happened to be the parents of Catherine of Aragon so it's interesting from a historical perspective. Unfortunately we missed the opening times and contented ourselves with fighting off the rosemary-sprig-offering gypsy women instead. There's always the internet I guess if I want to see what the chapel looked like anyway. We all headed back to the tea street instead for a refreshment break before our garden visit to the Alhambra. Believe it or not, just as we got to the gate the heavens opened once again but thankfully it was only a relatively short downpour. The gardens were amazingly beautiful but they were on such a big scale that after a while you ceased to really appreciate them, although Cathryn again was in heaven. Another late dinner followed as we adjusted well and truly to Spanish time, and then it was time to pack for our early morning departure to Madrid.

Surprise surprise, as we set out for the station in the morning it was raining yet again. Lovely! However, I must say that the First Class train trip was unexpectedly good as we were served a three course lunch with a bar service. What style!!! We even had little bottles of balsamic vinegar and olive oil for our salads, along with tiny salt and pepper shakers - and the food was good!!! On our arrival in Madrid (at Atocha Station where the bombs went off) we were met by Rachel's friend Jose who took us to Rubee's so we could dump our bags and then gave us a walking tour of Madrid's main sights, including the main parks. The architecture is beautiful in the city, with its wrought iron balconies and domed roofs. Rachel even commented on how European it all looked! Jose's tour finally ended after tapas for dinner at about midnight, by which stage poor Rubee had nearly frozen to death waiting for us (as we had her house keys she couldn't actually get in to her own place).

Our first full day in Madrid was pretty much a catch up on sleep day, although Rubee didn't have that luxury with her usual 6am start. We staggered out at about 2pm and braved the well organised Metro to sort out the next train booking and hit the shops, although we didn't actually buy anything. The Spaniards have definitely got the tourist info sorted too - we had no trouble getting about due to all of the signs in English as long as no-one tried to speak to us in Spanish. On our return to Rubee's the plan was for an early night but alas that was before we all started talking!

The next things on our plan were the Prado and the something-Thyssen Collection. Both were amazing collections of art, especially the second one. In the LP it describes it 'quite simply as a ridiculously rich collection' and I'd have to agree. Monet, Van Gogh, Picasso, Sisley, Renoir, Rafaello....they were all there, plus many, many more. We met up with Jose again for a paella dinner and met his two brothers, since he had met all of Rachel's family in Canberra and wanted to reciprocate. One of his brothers has an apartment with an amazing view of the city so we went there for a late drink, and Jose's impromptu version of Spain's entrance in the Eurovision Song Contest, the 'chicky chicky' song. Be afraid, very afraid I say! Finally, on our last night in Madrid we recreated Erkan's Air Conditioner cocktail, although due to the unavailability of pomegranate juice on its own (strange in Spain where it's important enough that Granada is named after it, and the fruit is its symbol) we made it instead with a rather weird mix of orange, pomegranate, raspberry and blueberry juice. It was yummo!!! But of course we've had to rename it the Air Reconditioner now.
Which brings me to Donostia. This place has been on my list of destinations since Susanne raved about it, and I can see why already. It's nice here! We didn't quite get the same stylish train trip with the lunch service but the town is making up for it with their version of tapas, called pintxos. We had to try them out of course, along with the local wine. It's all good so far....I'll have to give a full update once we have seen a bit more of the town.