Trash and Treasure

We left Berlin and headed for Holland. The Germans had just won the World Cup and everywhere was a sea of Black, Red and Yellow. I stayed up to watch the entire game which was a battle of defences that went to extra time. The goal by Mario Göetze that won the game was sheer brilliance.

We stopped overnight at Hannover but didn't spend any time there. We left early the following morning and travelled all day to get to Amsterdam. We gave the Aire a miss, as it was €22 a night with no showers or toilets, and with great difficulty we found the Vliegenbos campground just north of the city. From here it is a short bus ride to the main station or a short bike ride to a free ferry that land you at the same place as the bus.

The place is full of foreign twenty something wankers with tats and toilet brush haircuts - the guys are even worse. All here on the Ian Drury Tour - Sex and Drugs and STDs. They don't call it Dope for nothing. Despite the throngs of able bodied intellectually handicapped we managed to enjoy our time here. We rode almost everywhere on our bikes.

The visit to the Rijksmuseum was brilliant. The Rembrants are outstanding and the Night Watch doubly so now it has been totally restored to its almost original glory. It's name was derived from the darkened patina that had obscured most of the detail over several centuries. The scene is not the night but early morning with the civil guard about to begin their daily march through the city. The colours now are vivid and the painting had the eerie feeling of motion as if the figures are about to walk out of the frame. The rest of the museum is outstanding with the works of other Dutch artist just as impressive. The detail is almost photographic.

We rode the busses, ferries and the trams and walked the streets along the canals as well. Our last night we spent wandering the Red Light District. The hookers aren't nearly as good looking as those of the 70s or maybe I was looking through beer glasses back then. Listening to a group of guys bargaining for a blowjob was hilarious. We finished the night just sitting in a Bar right on the canal just watching the procession of touristas and locals pass by on land and water. We have had a great time here but now it's time to head south to Cologne.

Sunlight flickers through the windows, like a pulsing spotlight, as the tram speeds along the riverside between rows of tall trees that stand like silent ever vigilant Roman soldiers protecting the western shore. The early morning sun shimmers and sparkles on the surface of the Rhine like liquid gold and across the river a thin white shroud of mist hovers above the grassy shore. It's shadowy presence there momentary before the rising sun's rays find it. Another beautiful day begins in Cologne.

This is another city like Malaga, Barcelona and Munich that has managed to blend the ancient with the modern without detracting from former or overstating the latter. Cologne is a jewel of a city built on the remains of Ancient Rome's northern most outpost of civilisation in Europe. Here on the western side of the Rhine and in this city in particular is where we derive our modern concept of "WESTERN" Civilisation. This was the "coal face" where Rome kept the barbarian world to the east at bay. With its sister river, the Rhone, in the south it formed the natural border that would become the infant France under that countries most famous son. Charlemagne.

Cologne has History and quite a bit of it still remains. Though much of its Roman past is hidden below as the bedrock that latter architects built their memorials upon. None of these grand designs is more lasting and more imposing than Cologne Cathedral. This is by far the greatest Gothic monument that we have seen so far. The design, both exterior and interior, surpasses that of Metz, Amiens, Paris or Barcelona. Though the exterior is in need of a good clean (a process that is slowly being done) the interior is magnificent. It's sheer size is astounding and the stained glass windows are beyond adjectives that I can find to describe their vividness and beauty. The fact that this monument was built a thousand years ago with hand tools and wooden scaffolding is beyond belief. Modern architecture pales into insignificance before structures like this. In its day, pristine and white, it would have stood out like a beacon in sunlight or moonlight for miles.

All this time the river flowed, endlessly, to the sea. If I had my way. I'd take a boat from the river...(Yes I know. They're Sting lyrics but they seem appropriate). The Rhine dominates the landscape here as the Tyne did in Sting's lyrics for another Ancient Roman city on the edge of civilisation - Newcastle. We couldn't leave without taking a cruise on this liquid highway that was, and still is, the life blood of so much of Central and Eastern European commerce. Getting Margie up that early for the three kilometre bike ride to the station, twenty minute tram ride to town and ten minute walk to the dock for the 9:30 departure was no easy task. But I accepted the challenge.

The trip was an all day affair and there is only one ferry departure each day. It took four hours to reach our destination, Konigswinter, and two and a half to get back. Konigswinter is a charming little riverside town on the eastern bank or the Rhine and despite having two two outstanding attractions (The Sea Life Aquarium and the Drakenfels summit) it is suffering badly from the economic downturn. The once thriving town centre is almost deserted and many of the once thriving business along the picturesque high street are empty. Drakenfels is mountain ridge that over look the Rhine. A cog railway take you from the riverside to the top station a thousand feet above the river. Atop this ridge sits the ruin of Drakenfel Castle. From the balcony just below the ruins you can view the spectacular panorama of the Rhine as it winds it's way from south to north. We walked back down through the forested hillside, past the middle station with it quaint little Schloss Drakenfel palace and eventually found our way back to the town and river.

The trip back to Cologne was under a brooding sky but the next day dawned bright and clear so we spent one last day in the city just wandering around. The next morning we left for the long sad trip back to Calais. We revisited the Mosel as it was on our way to France. We stopped in Cochem again and restocked our supply of wine from one of the town's Weinguts. It was then off to Trier and the riverside Aire we stayed at last year. We stayed two nights and wandered around the Ancient town with its Roman Gate and Baths then headed off to Luxembourg just a few kilometres down river. We do filled up here with the essentials - diesel, booze and ciggies.

Our last stop before Calais was our first stop Tournai. We only spent the night here before leaving for the Ferry Terminal the next day. I can't believe out European trip is over. It seemed to go so fast but we enjoyed it none the less - the good and the bad.

It's now off to the Kent and Sussex Coast for a few weeks before returning to London.

Bavaria, Bohemia & Berlin

We left Munich behind and headed north for Regensburg. This is a quaint little town on the Danube, which we have been following on and off since Vienna. It has a beautiful Old Town full of winding cobble streets, colourful medieval architecture and flocks of the common Wandering Gawker. This is a strange species that nest exclusively on River cruise ships and infests every place these ships dock. Regensburg like many other ports along the river provide Gawker sanctuaries where they can eat, drink and procure colourful trinkets to store in their nest. They can be recognised by their gaudy plumage and Anglophile squawks. We managed to avoid most of them.

Our next stop was somewhere special, across the Czech border and into the heart of  what was once Bohemia. Here lies one of most outstanding medieval cities in the Europe - Prague. Bohemian Rhapsody isn't just a song here it's a state of mind. This place is beautiful beyond compare. Standing in the old town square you are overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the buildings. They all look like they were built yesterday not 600 years ago. The colours on the famous Astronomical Clock are bright and vivid. The creams and browns and greys of the building blended beautifully and the ceiling of the Tyn Church is outstanding, overshadowed only by the voices of the choir reverberation around the ancient walls. The narrow streets of the old town wend their way to the Vlatva River and so to the Charles Bridge. Stone arches span the river to the eastern side where more winding streets climb the heights to the Prague Castle, one of the the largest and intact castle complexes in Europe. There is just so much to see it is impossible to absorb it all in one hit. That's why we have decided to return next year.

We left with regrets and headed back into Germany. Our next stop was on the banks of the Elbe at a quiet little riverside town of Konigstein. This is Saxony and the the area that straddles the Czech border is know as Saxon Switzerland (the Czech side is Bohemian Switzerland). It is an area of unusual sandstone mountains of outstanding beauty. Konigstein is very reminiscent of Melk, both geographically and historically. Anywhere else it would be just another average riverside town except for what overlooks it. Konigstein Fortress stands on a sandstone cliff top that looks so out of place in this environment. It looks for all the world like a Mesa from the Painted Desert in the USA has been transported to a landscape of razor sharp ridges. Here it is clothed with pine forest as are the rest of ridges that tower over the riverside. The upper cliffs are vertical and barren with battlements that wind their way around the edge of this flat topped mountain. The castle complex is extensive and almost invisible from view on the riverside due to trees that grow within the battlements. It was so imposing and well built that it was never taken in battle.  The surrounding area is dotted with places to explore. This is another place we will be returning. The Black has continued to haunt us and we left Konigstein in the rain and headed for Berlin.

Berlin is somewhere we have always wanted to come. When we were here in the 70s it was almost impossible to travel to. After spending four days here I can say with confidence that if it wasn't for Berlin's 20th Century history it would be the last place in Europe worth visiting. This place is Ugly - in every sense of the word. The Wall was torn down over two decades ago and in a spirit of re-unification the good burghers of Berlin must have hired all the East German architects to help build the "New Berlin". The buildings here are some of the most awful I have ever seem. The city is populated with slab-sided, narrow rectangle windowed, insipid coloured monstrosities. If it doesn't look like an Communist Era government building it looks like a prison.

Buried amongst the ugliness is the remnant of a Medieval and Prussian past, but you'd be hard press to find it or be shown it on a tour. They focus almost exclusively on the 20th Century Nazi and Communist history. The life and times of Fredrick the Great who turned Prussia into one of the first democratic states in Europe outside France is sadly neglected. For anyone back home who is foolish enough to admire people like Julia Gillard, Doug Cameron or Lea Rhiannon I suggest they come to Berlin and walk the Wall, read the memorials of those who were MURDERED in the name of an ideology that killed millions, an ideology that the aforementioned admired and supported. The words and deed of the Nazis were no different from the words and deeds of the Communists. If you don't believe me just come here and see for yourself. Berlin is a place to see once and never again, but a place where the deeds done here in the name of two grotesque ideologies should NEVER be forgotten.

We are now on the way to Amsterdam and then via Cologne to Paris. This year's European Adventure is almost over. We'll be back in the UK in August.

May The Schwartz Be With You.

To understand this you need to know that Schwartz in German is the colour Black.

We left Italy and headed across the Alps into Austria. The Black clouds that heaped torrents onto us in Italy seemed to be following us. We stopped the night at beautiful little Aire in the small town of Rosegg. Even at 30kph it's a Blink and you'll miss it kind of place. The Aire was just a large grass field opposite the beautiful Guesthouse that owns it. The view was outstanding. It was overlooked by a ruined castle on a small hilltop and across endless fields of green ripening corn loomed the distant snow clad mountains. We took a walk around town and decided it was so interesting we would leave the next morning.

We'd headed for Vienna and hoped the Black sky stayed south of the Alps. The Aire in Vienna was right in town just a few minutes walk from the Underground station. The city is beautiful and we wandered around the town using the great tram system. We visited the famous Prater Amusement Park with its ferris wheel (the classic model for all the subsequent "Eyes" built around the world). The Gothic St Stephen Cathedral looks impressive from the out side but the inside is rather austere and barren. The outstanding stained glass that is so typical of the Gothic era is totally missing here. The few stained windows that are evident are nowhere near as impressive as Amiens or Metz. The interior is dark, morose and unfriendly. There's that Black again.

We took the U Bahn to Schonbrunn Palace the seat of the once powerful Austro-Hungarian Empire. The palace and gardens are a statement of power and rather sterile, especially when the sky above is Black. Versailles in Paris and Nymphenburg in Munich are much more impressive.  Vienna the city is a little the same. It just doesn't live up to its self created image. It trades too much on its former glory and the reputations of Strauss and Mozart. If it wasn't on the Danube tourist cruise route I doubt it would rate as the tourist destination it has become.

We left Vienna and headed west along the Danube. The first impression is that it isn't anywhere near as scenic as the Rhine or Mosel. There are exceptions and one of those was our next stop. Melk would be an insignificant little riverside town if not for one outstanding feature - Melk Abbey. It sits on a spur of rock several hundred feet above the river. The area itself has been inhabited since the Bronze Age and the abbey is built on the remains of a Roman Fort. We stayed in a small campground right on the river run by the adjacent Guesthouse. The markings on the front of the building were a bit disconcerting. They inscribed the heights of the historical floods of the Danube. On 18-8-1501 it reached the second story window sill. On 4-6-2013 it reached the top of the ground floor windows. There were five other markers on the wall. 

The place is a bit of a Bucket List place for me as I have wanted to come here since reading Umberto Eco's "The Name Of The Rose". This Benedictine Abbey houses one of the largest collections of the earliest written books and manuscripts in the world. To mark our arrival the sky turned Black and the thunder trumpeted around the valley. We sheltered under the Cafe umbrella and tried to drink our coffee without getting wet while waiting for our guided tour. The tour through the abbey was very enlightening and while we were inside the storm gave up waiting for us and went off to rain on someone else's parade. The library is brilliant and I'm sure some of its design features were used in the movie.

Salzburg was our next stop and it has changed little since we were here last. It's a beautiful city and we spent most of our time just wandering around. The cathedral is nothing special from the out side but the ceiling frescos are outstanding. A definite homage to the Sistine Chapel. We took the new cable car up to the Salzburg Castle. The guided tour was terrific and the view of the city from the battlements is outstanding. The city is named for the the white gold that created and maintained its wealth and power - Salt. Salzburg is literally Salt City. At one time in the past salt was more precious than gold and our next stop was where it was mined.

Hallein is a small town just south of Salzburg that is only a few thousand metres from the German border. Here lies the salt mines that were the source of Salzburg's fame. The tour of the mines takes you by train deep into the Blackness of the mine then you walk along the narrow dark tunnels under the border into Germany. You slide down polished wooden slides deeper into the mine then boat across an underground lake where you descend down more slides to the lowest point at 210 metres. You then wind your way back into Austria with only the sparse tunnel lights to keep the darkness away, before you ascend via escalators back to the train and finally return to daylight again. The tour is not expensive and absolutely worth it.

We left Hallein and within a kilometre we were in Germany. We bypassed Berchtesgaden and the Eagles Nest as all the historical Nazi stuff has been removed and the car park and cable car price was over €40. It's just a view from the top of a mountain now and you can get that anywhere in the Alps for free. So we headed for Chiemsee. This is a beautiful lake overlooked by the German Alps. We stayed in an Aire in a marina car park. The park adjoining the   Aire was alive with music in the evening with a Zumba session that went for over two and a half hours. It only finished because the sun had finally gone down. Someone was supposed to come and collet the fee but no one turned up so we had the night's stay for free. The electricity was not working so the Dutch guy next to us ran his lead from a socket in the toilets and shared it with us. He didn't mention the World Cup either - nice guy.

The next day we took the passenger ferry to Herreninsel the island on which Ludwig II built one of his palaces. This is Herrencheimsee which was built as a homage to Louis XIV of France. Ludwig was enamoured with The Sun King and built his version of Versailles albeit on a much smaller scale. This place is plain on the outside but inside it is just so over the top it's unbelievable. There is so much gold leaf gilding it becomes gaudy. The workmanship of everything from the floors, furniture and textiles is just outstanding but it is spoilt by the over use of gold. The hall of mirrors here is actually a stand out as it is larger and more impressive than the one in Versailles.

We left Ludwig Land and hit the autobahn for Munich. We couldn't help but notice in Bavaria that Black is the new Black. Black Beamers, Mercs, Audis, Fiats, Hyundais, VeeDubs, Skodas. You name it, one in four were Black. Of course we were in the trend as well as "Bertha" is Black. The other thing you notice here is there are very few non European cars. You rarely see a Honda, Mazda or Subaru, there are a few Toyotas but that's it. The most frequently seen Asian cars are the Hyundai i10 or i20 which are made in the Czech Republic and the Nissan Dualis. Car buyers here are very loyal to the local product. That's what happens when the local industries build cars that over 75% of the local populations actually want to buy, cars that are reliable, fuel efficient, well equipped and hold their value. A lesson Holden and Ford Australia refused to heed. Now they are gone we may see some of the great cars that they make here Downunder.

The Black followed to Munich - the cars and the clouds.  The lightning, the thunder, the rain. Oh the humanity. Nah just kidding, it clouded over and drizzled all day and night. The next morning was cold and wet but we went into town anyway. By the time we got back to the campground it was clearing and as I sit and write this the morning sun is shining down from a clear blue sky. It's Summer here and that's how it should be. It's winter back home so you can have the rain and the cold and the Black. You can have the Beamers and Mercs too if you like.

May the Schwartz be with you - And not with me.

It's 3G But Not As We Know It

Well the Italian Adventure is over as we are now in Austria.

We left Pompeii and headers across the country to the Adriatic Coast, which in many ways is the forgotten coast of Italy. Our first night's stay was under gum trees on the beach at the coastal village of Manfredonia. Sounds great so far you'd think but wait there's more. The place was full of Manfreds and Kurts and Dieters and Johans. It was Little Germany, even the Italians had forsaken the place and for good reason. It wasn't the foreigners that were the problem it was the locals, for Manfredonia is actually Mosquitodonia. The place was crawling with Mossies and not the regular kind. I'm talking F16 size monsters. The sides of the van were covered in them. We had more bug squat on the windscreen from just driving out of the campground than in a whole days travel anywhere else on our trip.  We left the Manfreds and Mossies behind and headed up the coast.

Our next stop was north of Pescara at a the beautiful little resort town of Giulianova (pronounced Julia-Nova) literally New Julia. That's not to be confused with the fake New Julia in Australia. The Italian one actually lives up to expectations. We stayed at an awesome campground right on the beach - minus Mossies. The beaches here are not a patch on Aussie ones but the sand is clean and the water clear and warm. There is a bike and walking trail that stretches 42 kilometres along the coast. We stayed there almost a week just relaxing and wandering along the coast. We took the train up into the mountains inland to the town Terano but the place was grotty just like most of towns here - building defaced and rubbish everywhere along the roads.

After refreshing our spirits we headed north and ended up in a little campground near Pesaro in a national park - Camping Panorama but it didn't have one. No truth in advertising here in Italy folks. Every picture tells the wrong story. "That's not a Ferrari and how come it got kiddy peddles". The place was notable for the massive thunderstorm at 5 am. The lightning turned night into day, the thunder was deafening and the rain and hail almost totalled our awning. Margie and I were saturated in the dark fixing it so the torrent of rain would run off it. Then to make matters worse the pitch was grass covering clay and we almost got bogged getting out. Time to move on again.

The next place was Cervia just south of Ravenna. Another small resort town on the coast. We only stayed two nights and decided to head straight to Venice as the weather was changing and we were just about over the beach. The town was nice enough if a little over commercialised but the beach was crowded with beach bars and restaurants where you had to buy something to use the beach. And the beach wasn't that great anyway.

Out last stop in Italy was Venice. Just like Paris and Florence we just keep coming back. We love this place. We stayed in an excellent little campground only minutes from Piazza Rome, which is the transport hub and last place you can drive to. It's foot or boat traffic from there on. We wandered through the crooked streets peering into shop windows then sat and sipped cappuccino at little cafés in shaded nooks by the canals. We revisited familiar thoroughfares and also found new routes we had missed last time. Armed with a 12 hour transport pass we took to the water and sailed to Murano island, where most of the Venetian glass is made. The island is beautiful and a lot less crowded than Venice Island. The houses are brightly painted much like Venice used to be, though most of the main island is faded, peeling away or in some parts propped up with scaffolding. If you've seen the Movie Casino Royale you'll get the picture.

The ferry took us on to Burano a smaller island but just as picturesque as Murano. This is the home of lacework and embroidery. We bought a beautiful hand made tablecloth that came with placemats. We didn't buy any glassware this time as everything that took our fancy was so delicate it never would have reached home undamaged. Our round trip took us to Lido next which has a beachfront on the side that faces the bay. We came here in the 70's but we couldn't recognise anything familiar. The beach is pretty average for a place this famous and you just can't get away from the overwhelming feeling of this place being rather shabby. The last leg of our ferry trip took us back to Venice and all the way along the Grand Canal, past St Mark's Square with its splendid cathedral and imposing Doge's Palace, under Rialto Bridge and back to Piazza Rome.

Our journey through Italy was now complete and though we had a great time and visited some of our favourite places along with a short list of new ones the overwhelming impression of present day Italy is one of disappointment. This country had real promise back in the Seventies but it has regressed in so many ways. The roads, the rubbish, the Roma and the ruin are the lasting memories.

It's what Margie calls the Three G's - GRAFITTI, GARBAGE & GIPSIES

Digging for Disappointment

I finished the last post with the optimistic "perhaps there is hope for the Catholic Church yet".

After seeing what Assisi has become I take it back.

The city itself is quite spectacular. It sits on the spur of a mountain overlooking the Umbrian plain below. The Basilica of St Francis loom white and pristine like the prow of a ship marooned on the mountain side. It marks the lower extremity of the city which stretches and meanders up the hillside to the Roman Ruins at its upper limits. It is best seen by climbing to the top of town and wandering back down through endless alleyways and cobbled streets. It is beautifully preserved architecturally and grossly exploited commercially. The place is crawling with the most gaudy and cheap religious icons and paraphernalia, almost all of it made in China. Every second shop is bulging with plastic rosaries, fridge magnets, Francis statuettes, crucifixes and booklets. The others stocked with wine and cheese. And dozens of cafés with over priced coffee and beer.

Francis was a man who rejected everything that Assisi has become. He'd be turning over in his grave.

We left Assisi and headed into the mountains along a winding route that was both spectacular and hair raising. We followed the river as it climbed into the mountains. The road was narrow and broken from the snow thaw and we passed though dozens of small and long tunnels. Our final destination was Norcia, a small mountain town that is famous for producing the best cured pork in Italy (maybe even all of Europe), but Renata might dispute that. Salami, pancetta, prosciutto and anything that took our fancy. Even the pecorino is delicious. With our larder full we headed for the Eternal City - Rome?

The Rome I knew has disappeared. It has been buried beneath an avalanche of detritus both organic and inorganic. I felt like Indiana Jones digging for the riches that were below the surface. You have to scrape away layer upon layer - Gipsy beggars; African hustlers selling the ubiquitous fake sunnies, knockoff handbags and watches; Indian spruikers selling everything from rosaries to tours; endless rows of souvenir shops with every conceivable form of religious iconography spilling onto the sidewalk and wall to wall tourists swarming like ants to queue for hours to get into every popular attraction. Muslims and Hindus selling gullible Christians rosaries and statues made in China and stinking refuse strewn about every corner of the city, this is what Rome has become.

Once you get past this psychological barrier the real Rome is still there but it's not what it used to be. It is almost impossible to get a decent photo of anything. The Trevi Fountain is surrounded by people, you can't get a shot of anything in the Vatican Museum without getting a dozen head in the picture and the only place where you could get great shots you can't because it's strictly forbidden to take photos or movies in the Sistine Chapel. But the entry fee is worth it just to stand there in the centre and let the magnificence of Michelangelo wash over you. Forget the crowds and the restrictions. They are nothing but a distant murmur drowned out by the shear beauty of Buonarroti's masterpiece. It is even more beautiful than I remember.

The rocks in the backyard that go by the name of the Roman Forum are still here but are crumbling into dust with many precious exhibits now inaccessible and propped up by scaffolding. The Palatine hill that overlooks it however has flourished. The trees are tall and shade ancient villas and temples and provide a cool respite from the Mediterranean sun. The gardens are well kept in stark contrast to the rest of the city. From the heights of ruined palaces on the western side of the hill you can see the remains of the Circus Maximus - only the outline of the track remains. Not a brick remains of the stadium and centre columns that once stood here. The Coliseum is just up the Via and is now in better condition than I remember, even though part of the exterior is shrouded in scaffolding. It's there for restoration not for structural support. The interior has been cleaned and the entire upper level has been turned into a museum which catalogues the history of the monument. They have even  assembled part of the origin stadium floor from original drawings.

We were disappointed with most of the rest we saw. If it wasn't covered in scaffolding it was covered in graffiti. The roads are a disgrace and the transport infrastructure is the same as it was 40 years ago and even back then it was ancient. Piazza Navona was swarming with hustlers and only one fountain was working; the fountain at the base of the Spanish Steps was surrounded in plastic and perfume advertising and the building at the top covered in scaffolding; Piazza del Popolo scaffolding and fountains not working; St. Peter's Square covered in barriers and waterless fountains. Thanks to the Eternal City I am eternally grateful that I won't be returning any time soon. No coins in the fountain this time. The Gipsies would only go snorkelling for them after dark.

We said our goodbye to Rome and headed for somewhere far far worse - Naples. This is like going back to Singapore or Shanghai in the 1950s. The only thing that hints that this is the 21st Century are the cars, everything else screams third world slum. The only saving grace is the Archeological Museum of Naples. It stands out like a fragrant rose set upon a pile of manure. This place houses one of the greatest collections of ancient Roman art in the world. The sculptures, the mosaics, the frescos and the minutiae of Roman life is simply breathtaking to behold. Much of it recovered from Pompeii and Herculaneum. The rest of the city is a total shithole. There isn't a square inch of this place that isn't covered with graffiti or a street that isn't heaped with garbage. There is an overwhelming sense of ugliness and squalor.

We stayed at Pompeii right next to the ruins in a crappy little campground. The irony is we stayed here longer than anywhere we've stayed so far. The ruins are much more extensive than when we were here in 1976. Almost 70% of the city has now been uncovered and over 80 exhibits are able to be viewed but much of the place is closed off either for excavation work or because it is simply too dangerous. What you can see, is enlightening - a window into life in a Roman city 2000 years ago. When you see the majesty of these ancient buildings, many of which have lasted intact for over 2000 years, and the beauty and permanence of medieval cities like Assisi, Volterra and Pienza you are left wondering how could the people who built modern Italy be in any way related philosophically or genetically to their ancestors. The Colosseum will still be standing proud long after modern Italy has crumbled to dust.

It hasn't been all bad though. The trip along the Amalfi coast was spectacular. We decided not to drive it ourselves and took the train and bus instead. From Pompeii we caught the local train to Sorrento where we hopped on the local bus that goes to Amalfi via Positano and the other seaside towns along the way. We sat on the right hand side to get the best views of the coast and the shear drops that mark this route as one of most scenically beautiful and visually frightening stretches of road in the world. Houses that seem to be glued to the shear cliffs are stepped down the hillside ending in a narrow strip of coast forming the main part of town along with the harbour. The road snakes it's way down to the seaside then climbs back up to the heights via twists and turns and tunnels that follow every contour of the land. It is so narrow in places that the buses have to back up so that the ones travelling in the opposite directions can crawl past where the road is just wide enough. I can't believe we drove along this very road back then and remember so little of the experience. We had the most terrifying and wonderful day all in one. One we will not forget this time.

Our last day was spent in Sorrento. We hadn't stopped when we travelled  to Amalfi so we went back to wander around. This is still a beautiful seaside resort town that has managed to keep its charm despite the steady influx of tourists. The narrow streets are full of great shops without the pushy spruiking. The products sell themselves; brightly coloured ceramics; freshly roasted coffee beans; locally made limoncello in a myriad of shapely bottles; original leather goods as well as the usual and unusual souvenirs. We sat and ate pizza in a charming little restaurant along one of the market streets and were happy we decided to come back here. The piazzas shaded and covered in flowers, winding little alleys passing gardens of lemon trees and jasmine, balconies with dizzying views of the transparent sea below and the Isle of Capri in the hazy distance. This is how we remembered Italy so long ago and Sorrento today didn't disappoint, it is the memory we will treasure. Sorrento is as far south that we will go here. We head now across the mountains to the east coast and the Adriatic, then north along this forgotten coast till we finally reach Venice.

Under A Tuscan Spell

I can now understand why artists and photographers find (and have always found) Tuscany so inspiring. At every bend in the country road or around every ancient stones town corner one could easily find a place to set up an easel or tripod. The sky is bright blue and flecked with scudding pure white clouds whose shapes conjure up childish visions of elephants and tigers and gay commercials for children's chocolates. The rolling hillsides are covered in ripening grain that shimmers and sways in the gentle spring breeze making it appear like a verdant sea. Green waves roil and pitch across the landscape, an illusion of fluid motion. Emerald islands are washed by this pale green ocean upon which stone and terracotta protrude above the oak and pine - little enclave farms and wineries dot the countryside. And on every prominent hilltop a fortress town that was once Etruscan, then Roman then its own petty kingdom, until of course they all had theirs arses kicked by the Florentines.

Where do you think the Medicis got the money to make Florence the jewel that it is.

It is these hilltop towns that we have come to see. After leaving Lucca (probably where all the De Luccas come from) we stopped at Volterra. From the car park it was a hike up a huge ancient stairway to the town. It is very ancient underneath the medieval overlay and goes back to pre Roman times. The Etruscan roots still show through in many of the building especially the walls. The place feels old just walking around the narrow stone paved streets. It is also somewhat of a throwback in the tourist sense. It has less of the crass over the top junk and faux history of so many of these towns. The locals even rejected the installation of cable internet throughout the town. It just encourages more freeloader tourists who pay as little as possible to get free WiFi.

The next stop along the way was San Gimignano, the poster child for Tuscan hilltop town and the complete opposite of Volterra. We were fortunate to stroll around the place early. We stayed at a really nice Aire just below the town. They supplied a free shuttle to the front door, a enormous and imposing front door it was too. We got there at 8:30am and wandered around the town for a good two hours. Enough time to see the best of the place before the convoy of tour buses arrived at around 10:30 when most of the shops open for business. The view of the surrounding valley  was like every Tuscan  landscape photo you've seen - a rich colour pallet of greens across the rolling carpet of hills broken here and there by neat rows of vineyards biased across the hillside like gingham patches on a woven cloth. We descended the central Via back towards the main gate through the throng of people recently disgorged by a fleet that would put the US Navy to shame. Along with tourism's usual suspects there was a huge proportion of the "Nuevo Riche" whose Yuens speak louder than Dollars in these changing times. We left them to the postcards, fridge magnets and cheap Chianti.

We traveled along winding country roads that appeared to be in exactly the same condition they were in 40 years ago (absolutely f...ing rubbish). When I mentioned earlier that Italy had gone backward in the last 4 decades I wasn't bullshiting. Even the Autostradas (which are tolled) are in a shocking state everywhere we have used them. After a suspension rattling and spine massaging ride we reached Pienza. The Aire we stayed in was just the corner of a car park with fresh water and a disgustingly smelly toilet block. The good news was it was five minutes walk from the centre of one of the most outstanding Tuscan hill town. This was one of those unexpected surprises that we keep having, as this was just planned as a night stop on the way to the next town (probably the most popular town in the Chainti region, but more on that next).

Pienza is a little gem. Easily traversed in a couple of hours and home to some of the best local produce (the Pecorino is to die for) and also some of the best artisans we have seen so far. Most of the ceramics, clothing, leather wear and general bric-a-brac is unique and beautifully made and displayed. Even the local produce seemed a cut above the rest. The other plus was the almost total lack of the usual suspects. Even the blow-ins seemed to be "in the know" as if Pienza was one of Tuscany's best kept secrets - don't tell anyone.

Our next stop was at what many believe is the quintessential Tuscan hill town, Montepulciano. We'll let me tell you Montipulc is a bit of a Pooch. It's not just a mish-mash of architectural styles it's just a mish-mash of a place. It's most famous for its Vino Noble wine and the best thing to do in Montepulciano is leave it on a wine tour, buy some great wine and keep going.

Our final Tuscan town was Cortona. Famed for the Francis Mayer novel and the Diane Lane movie of the same name - "Under the Tuscan Sun". Though both novel and movie brought Cortona to a new audience the place was doing very nicely anyway. This is less a hilltop town and more like a mountain retreat. It lies on the border of Tuscany and Umbria and is high atop what is actually the beginnings of the Umbrian uplands and mountains. The Rolling hills and plains give way to a more rugged landscape. The hills are more dramatic and lowland fields are replaced with forested heights. The climb up to the lowest level of the city is breathtaking and so is the view from the terraced car parks. Looking out to the souths the plain stretches away to the edge of Lake Trasimeno - where I sit and write this post.

Although it remains one of Tuscany's tourist hotspots Cortona has managed to maintain a more rustic and down to earth charm compared to the crassness of San Gimignano. It has managed to find a niche that is a between the over commercial San Gimi and the uniqueness of Pienza.  The town is draped around the upper reaches of a 1700 metre mountain. To walk from the city gate (or even the lower car park) to the Etruscan ruins atop the mountain is a feat in itself. The climb itself is tiring but the view from the top is well worth the effort. To the east the mountains rise above the plain and march off to the south encircling the eastern side of Lake Trasimeno on their way. To the north and west the Tuscan plain stretches before you like a miniature world laid before an Etruscan King.

Our Tuscan adventure is now over and we now head deeper into Umbria to the home of the man many consider to be one of the few "real" saints to have lived. The town is Assisi the man is Francesco Bernardone. It's interesting that the "People's Pope" took the name of the "People's Saint". Perhaps there is hope for the Catholic Church after all.

Well it's time to go. It's dinner time and Margie is dying to try the local specialty Pasta al Paolo.

Rain and Wind Go Away Over The Alps And Far Away

Mulhouse proved to be less than expected. So we stayed the night and moved on to Dijon. We stayed in a nice little campground by the river. The signs in the campground were a bit disconcerting though - Evacuate in Case of Flood - This Way Out. This campground was flooded this time last year during the bad weather that also caused floods in the Pyrenees and other parts of France.

Dijon is a beautiful city, compact and very pleasing to the eye. The mustard is not bad either. 

We stayed two days then decided to bypass Lyon and head for Italy. The weather has been very cold and windy with overcast skies and some rain. We stopped overnight in an nice little Aire in Grenoble and the next day set about crossing the Alps.

We stopped briefly in Borg d'Oisans where Tony stays for the Alps leg of his Tours then headed to for Turin. We climbed over two high passes and travelled along so much squiggly spaghetti I'm off pasta for a while. There was snow on the ground by the roadside and we even saw people skiing. The view from the top was spectacular and although the route was slow and scary in places we didn't regret it.

Once over the border into Italy we didn't get to see much of the countryside as we spent most of  the time under it. We must have gone through twenty tunnels or more. Most four to five kilometres long. We finally emerged onto the plain that leads to Turin. Our first impression of Northern Italy didn't bode well. Turin is quite literally a Shit Hole. The place is more like a third world slum than 21st Century European City. In our nearly forty years absence the Italy that we once knew has gone backwards. Most of what we have seen so far with few exceptions is dirty, squalid, crumbling, abandoned, potholed and impoverished. The sense of pride that is evident especially in France and Germany, and was once in evidence in the Italy of the 70's has evaporated.

We headed south for Florence, to a city we knew would be the exception having spent time there two years ago. Even here we were a little disappointed as our favourite campground that sits just next to the Piazzale Michelangelo, with a commanding view of one of the most beautiful cities in the world, has closed for good. The place had existed here for over forty years and is where we stayed on several occasions back in the 70's. Well a least we won't have to worry about all those darn stairs anymore. The new campground is actually an Aire on the edge of the river west of town. The bus trip to town provided us with a wonderful body massage curtesy of the patchwork bitumen and cobble stone streets. We didn't care as this place is one of our favourite cities. It just oozes charm, history and class. It's also the home of my favourite Ninja Turtles - Raphael, Donatello, Leonardo and Michelangelo. Add Botticelli, Brunelleschi,Giotti and the Medici clan and need I say more. History and Art don't get any better than this - maybe Rome, but that's to come.

Right now we are in Lucca a little walled Medieval City just south of Pisa. It has had a turbulent history given that it lies on the trading route between the costal domain of Pisa and the once powerful Florence. It's ancient walls are intact and you can cycle or walk around the entire city atop the city walls. Inside is labyrinth of narrow streets and more Piazzas than a town this size should be allowed. There is even a huge circular one that is very reminiscent of a bullring or more likely the vestiges of a Roman arena. It's a pleasant surprise given the state of some of the places we have passed along the way. We are spending a little time here in Tuscany just wandering around and admiring the landscape. Tomorrow it's Volterra and then on to Siena. If the rest of Tuscany is like this we might stay here for a while. It will make up for the rubbish we saw further north.

Time to go for now. It getting dark and it's time to make dinner. Love to all.

Sweet and Sour

"Some days the wind blows hot and cold.

Life can be sweet and sour but I am in control."

That sums up the Trip so far. The time in the UK was spent with Dal Renata and Matrim. Circumstance, the weather and the Easter/School holidays conspired against us so we spent some quality time with the family. We had a great time as Renata was on holidays and Matrim was not going to daycare. Dallas had time off too.

We finally made it across the Channel and started out from Dunkirk. We spent the first night in the small Belgium town of Tournai. It was just an Aire at the end of a city car park but next to (a real surprise) Baseball Diamonds. Kids were playing tee-ball and there were older one playing on the full size diamond. It was a real buzz watching them play. There was also a huge marquis tent next to where we were parked and it was being used for what sounded like the Belgium version of The Voice auditions. I swear if I never hear Pharrell William's "Happy" again I'll be HAPPY.

We made our way to Luxembourg the next day and stayed in a beautiful little campground just out of town. The bus to the centre of town was just out side the gate and it was only 10 min to town.

Luxembourg City was a real disappointment for a place hyped as a medieval city with a 1000 years of history. The Grand Dutchy is a Grand Dud. It seems being a premier centre of the EU is the kiss of death for your hood. Strasbourg, which we passed through on the way to Alsace is another medieval city spoiled by inappropriately located modern architecture.

We bypassed the EU's home base and settled for the real Alsace of Selestat. The core of the medieval city still remains inside the city wall. Though there are no walls anymore. They were removed in the 18th century to allow the city to expand. The ancient timber framed houses seem to lean out over the narrow street - you get the feeling they are looking over your shoulder at every step. The solid timber skeletons were infilled with rubble, brick or stone and then plastered over to create the distinctive Alsace architecture. The exposed beams are dark stained and the plaster is brightly coloured - earthy reds, yellows and orange, pale blues and verdant shades of green. All with contrasting coloured shutters that vie for your attention.

Wrought iron filigree with attached painted sculptures hang from the first floors proclaiming the butcher,  the baker, the candlestick maker, the cobbler, the tanner and any other trade that sustained these mercantile towns throughout their history. The beauty and spirit of their past has not been dimmed or, thank the lord, destroyed in rush to build a "better" Europe.

We took a little side trip from Selestat to one of the towns former possessions - the Haut-Koenigsbourg castle. The original was first built, on this rocky outcrop 750 metres above the Alsace plain to the East and the Vosges Mountains to the West, in the 12th century. In its time it controlled what where once important trade routes. The North/South wheat and wine trade and the East/West salt and silver trade. It was rebuilt several time and left abandoned for more than 250 years after it was looted and burned during the Thirty Years War. In the late 19^th century it became the possession of Selestat whereupon the city gifted the castle to Kaiser William II as Alsace was then part of Germany. Kaiser Bill restored it to its present glory. It is quite literally magnificent.

We left Selestat and the beautiful little Municipal Campground and headed south along the Route de Vin (the wine road). On the way we stopped at Requewihr - listed as one of the most beautiful villages in France and boy does it live up to its reputation. It is small compact and like steeping through a portal into a Brothers Grimm Tale. It's not hard to imagine this as the home of Cinderella, Snow White or Repunzel. Hansel and Gretel could live here - it is after all the home of gingerbread. Is it too much to conjure up a Gingerbread Home? There were mines here once and the forests of the Vosges Mountains are only broomstick's flight away.

We walked back through the eastern entrance overlooking the emerald quilt of vineyards and the spell was broken. The real world intervened and we continued on our way until we reached Colmar.

This is where I sit and write right now. Colmar another Alsace jewel. Treasure and pleasure awaits at every turn of its narrow cobbled streets. It even has a canal running through to older part of town overlooked by a colourful palette of bent and crooked houses that any artist would find inspiring.

We leave tomorrow for Mulhouse and then we turn south west away from Alsace and head for Dijon.

Here We Go Again

The Big Adventure continues.

We left Australia slowly sinking into the Wet and headed for Spring in Europe. But we didn't get far. Our Virgin Airbus decided to loose its way in Hong Kong. No we didn't disappear into a Malaysian Twilight Zone, the navigation system on the plane shit itself and they couldn't find a Tom Tom anywhere in Asia to replace it with. Virgin had to fly a new one out from London so we were stranded in Honkers for 24 hours. Virgin put all 230 passengers up in the very swanky Harbour Plaza Metropolis right on the harbour. VERY NICE! We had a huge room overlooking the harbour and the island across the bay. The delay was an unexpected bonus for us but for many on the flight it meant connecting flights, hotel rooms, tours and other plans had to be re-scheduled. NOT HAPPY RICHARD!

We finally arrived in London to more Wet. What I wouldn't give for some Global Warming right now. Still we shouldn't complain, our friends Pam and Barry in New Hampshire are still under feet of snow and suffering -4°. We are here in London till next Wednesday then we are off to Yorkshire to pick up Betha as Margie calls our van. We are hoping the weather will be better by then. We'd like to spend some time here in the UK before we head for Europe but it all depends on the weather.