Kit and Beau's European Wedding Bonanza 2008

Our journey begins @ Melbourne, Australia

2008-06-10T18:00:54.000Z

Welcome to our blog. We'll start writing about our trip once it starts (not long now!!) but I was too eager to pass up starting our blog!

I hope you'll all enjoy reading about our European Wedding Bonanza 2008!

K&B

Take Off, Australia @ Take Off, Australia

2008-06-15T10:15:53.000Z

Transit in Singapore @ Singapore Changi Airport, Singapore

2008-06-15T17:00:24.000Z

We've just spent six or so hours in Changi Airport. An obligatory Singapore Sling (wouldn't recommend them in hindsight) was had by all.

We admittedly took the tourist shuttle, but all we saw were MALLS, MALLS, MALLS. We couldn't even walk away from the mall we were in to get to another part of the city, because they're all connected via a complex labyrinth of tunnels from which there is no escape.

We will definitely do Singapore more justice on the way back!! We've got 19 hours, so it had better be better!

K&B

The place where the books are black. @ London, United Kingdom

2008-06-16T09:20:20.000Z

WE HAVE ARRIVED IN LONDON!!!

After an utterly tedious flight, in an aeroplane chair that was designed by someone who could not have possessed a neck, we got into Heathrow at 6am today. We haven't slept very well for much of 35 hours, so be prepared for gabble.

With nothing to do until our B&B check-in at 11, we've been pottering (I say pottering, but with the backpacks it's whatever verb would describe a pregnant turtle with killer cankles) around the city.

First stop on our list was the storefront where the exterior scenes from Black Books were filmed. The inside is not the same as the set, although it must be said that they share a certain slovenliness of decor. You can see the pictures of us below, which illustrate with a wearying clarity the first three paragraphs.

Read on, intrepid readers. More interesting tidbits will come once I can lay claim to more than 20 cumulative minutes of sleep in a 35-hour period.

K&B

London on foot @ British Museum, United Kingdom

2008-06-17T10:52:58.000Z

We've been in London for two days now, having arrived at sparrow-fart yesterday. We intended to have an easy get-over-jetlag, rest-our-weary-bones day the first day, but after we checked in at the B&B, we felt like a little walk to acquaint ourselves.

Acquainting ourselves turned effortlessly into pretty much seeing all of the West End sights in one afternoon. It could be argued that they were not done justice just by being looked at and walked past. But we got a good gawp at Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Sq, Leicester Sq, Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, St James's Park, etc. There are some photos of one or the other of us standing bleary-eyed in front of various buildings.

We spent today around The City, starting first at the British Museum. Centuries of pillaging antiquities has certainly paid off. We spent 2 hours in 2 rooms alone, and would have loved, time permitting, to see more. The (controversial) Elgin Marbles, friezes and statues from the Parthenon, were amazing to see. The Rosetta Stone got a gander too! One disappointment was the lack of plaques to describe so many of the items on display. There were hundreds (thousands, we didn't see them all by far) of fascinating artefacts and objects which you didn't know anything about except that they were nice-looking and old.

We then walked into the centre of town past St Paul's Cathedral. We had a quick peep inside but weren't willing to shell out the admission price. We walked along the unprepossessing London Bridge (feeling, the both of us, extremely Fergalicious all the while) and along Southbank to the hilariously fairy-tale-castle-like Tower Bridge. The view from the top walkways was great.

We made our way to 'The Gherkin', a building on 30 St Mary Axe which you will recognise easily from the photo. It's a functioning office building (apparently extremely eco-friendly), so we couldn't go up to the top. Necks were, however, adequately craned to see all the way up.

The thing we love about the city so far is that, not only are there countless fascinating touristy buildings which have been around for hundreds of years, every street is also lined with relatively unimportant but nonetheless amazingly-designed Gothic and Victorian architecture. There's a Tesco's, a Starbucks and a natty internet cafe in the bottom of most of them, but it's amazing just to walk past such a rich and unappreciated maze of historical buildings!

We're here for another five days yet, so there's still heaps to do. We're off to Oxford and the university grounds tomorrow, so there will be plenty more stories to tell. We're been getting about everywhere on foot (despite having shelled out for a Tube prepaid ticket), so we have had a long day today. It's amazing how easily you can walk the entire length of the city without realising!

Bye for now.

K&B

Oxford, United Kingdom @ Oxford, United Kingdom

2008-06-18T11:28:50.000Z

So yesterday was the first of our day trips outside of London, this time to Oxford, and tomorrow we're heading off to Bath and Stonehenge.
After two days of nonstop walking arond London, it was nice to be able to just sit on a bus for a few hours and watch the scenery go by...and THEN walk around for hours.
We went into the day with just a vague plan of what we wanted to do- no road maps, or itineraries, and I think it worked really well. We stumbled across Christ Church, which is still a functioning student college, which in itself weirded us out. Somehow I don't see throngs of tourists wandering around Bruce Hall with cameras anytime soon.
The grounds were beautiful, and the college Cathedral was stunning, however it is heartening to know that no matter where you go, no matter how beautiful the surroundings are, college food is still the same. Despite the old furniture, and the paintings of College deans, Prime Ministers and Henry VIII adorning the walls, one whiff of the Dining Hall and I was back at King's and Bruce Hall all over again, with thoughts of Chicken a la King, and mystery meat filling my head.
We took in the sights for a few hours, including England's oldest purpose-built Museum, it's largest University library, and lazily wandered the streets for a few hours before heading back to London.
We caught up with an old friend of mine from Year 8 for dinner, which conveniently happened to be just around the corner. One thing we're DEFINITELY struggling with in London so far is the food, so it was nice to go out for a nice dinner, which doesn't consist of microwaved bacon and hideous Chinese. That being said, we're determined to do the local thing, so we've already had the full English breakfast, pork pies with mushy peas, and are going out for "traditional English" curry tonight... (God my tastebuds can't wait for France and Spain *S*)
We did also happen to stumble across the "26th best bar in the world" (if you believe their cocktail menus), which just happens to be right next door to where we're staying! It was great to catch up with Beth, who I haven't seen i years, and with Megan on Tuesday as well. We're also planning on metting up with friends on Friday, Saturday and Sunday too, so we're probably being more sociable here than we are at home :)
Anyway, better go- we're off to get fitted for our suits, and then to meet the Wedding Photographer! Groomzilla, here we come!

Never again, so long as I may live. @ Salisbury, United Kingdom

2008-06-20T11:58:10.000Z

Is it possible to say "I told you so" to yourself? I admit to having reservations about taking a tour bus to see anything, fully expecting the hordes of the most offensive kind of tourist (leaving aside, for the sake of argument, any self-reflection that we perhaps should have) and the wham-bam, bite-sized style of sightseeing that is both unrewarding to the visitor, and belittling to the legacy of the historic place being mercilessly invaded.

In a momentary but soon lamented lapse of judgment, we decided to take a tour bus to Stonehenge. We had investigated the options to get ourselves there, but, being the automobilically-impaired two that we are, it would have been too difficult to train/ local bus/ walk/ piss-about to get there. So we decided (woe!) to take a guided bus tour that would also encompass Salisbury Cathedral and the ancient Roman city of Bath.

After at least an hour of miscellaneous delays before the coach departed London, we were underway. The tour guide promptly revealed himself to be a pillock of the highest order. Our tour was run in conjunction with a Japanese-language tour, the participants of which sat on one side of the bus and were repeatedly condescendingly referred to as "The Japanese". The guide’s don’t-give-up-your-day-job repertoire also consisted of jokes about how stingy Scottish people are, how drunken (interchangeably) Australian/ New Zealander people are, and how I-don't-know-what the Brits are, and wouldn’t-you-like-your-beer-warm, Guv’nor? A fine start.

We finally arrived at Salisbury Cathedral, resplendently celebrating its 750th anniversary with a (singularly hideous) flower show. The CWA or what-have-you had banded together and, with the hindrance help of, presumably, some clippings from a trendy flower-arranging magazine sold on the High Street, had created a series of floral abominations arrangements to draw the masses. The Cathedral is better known as the home of the most well-preserved of the four extant copies of the Magna Carta. Of which an infinitesimal glimpse was afforded us, before a curmudgeonly old so-and-so with a pustulant eye herded us away with his gnarled stick, and we were sent grudgingly back to the flowers.

The tour came with a "traditional English meal" (insert one or more ye oldes at your discretion), arranged through some apparently binding arrangement the tour company had ill-advisedly made with what must have been the most desperate-for-custom pub in the town. Bangers and mash was as much of a rude (and distasteful) surprise to our uninitiated Japanese counterparts as it was to us. The insalubrious triumvirate of quivering and glistening meat-tubes wallowed greasily atop a pasty, reconstituted heap of (ostensibly) potato goop. It was followed unceremoniously by bread-and-bu’er pudding, which could legitimately have been mistaken for Potato-Goop (Reprise), but for the luridly fluorescent instant custard adorning it. Oh, and the beer was warm. (I didn’t quite expect the severity.)

Our bus took us then to Stonehenge, which was the entire point of our coming in the first place. It was a mizzling day, so the other tourists, vomited out of their own buses, were perhaps fewer than usual. We managed, by the grace of Photoshop, to get some nice colour into the shots you see in this post, so it was worth it in the end. It was also the last half-hour before the whole shebang was to be closed for tourists in preparation for the solstice festival, where an expected 30,000 dishevelled crushed-velvet-clad neo-Pagan types would descend on the place to touch the stones and experience a thronging spiritual awakening or some such.

We ended up in Bath, where, back in the day, the Romans had built a steam room/ spa resort (I adamantly refuse to stoop to use the word ‘wellness’) over the sulphuric spring water. The baths themselves had been flippantly converted into a touristy insta-attraction, complete with naff little plaques and reconstructions of Roman life as realised by eerie wax mannequins and insufferably cheesy voice-overs. Well worth missing, if you ask me. The township of Bath itself was actually really interesting, with wonderful architecture and little bridges over the river. It would have been great to spend more time there, but, like the previous two places, we were given a fleeting 30-ish minutes before the bus was off.

Bath is close to Winchester, the famed stomping ground of Jane Austen. Had we the time, I really wanted to photograph her headstone (for want of her shinbone), so I could have seen her most valuable contribution to society. It wasn’t to be. We spent, in all, 9-10 hours on the bus, with no more than 45 minutes at any given stop. We were bumped about between A and B without the slightest opportunity to take in or appreciate the places we’d been. I told me so, but I just wouldn’t listen.

Finally, the part of the trip that made me (usually easy-going and non-judgmental, as I, of course, am) seven kinds of furious was some way along the narrow, winding country road to Bath. Some poor sod in a sports car had misjudged the turn and the wet, and had embroiled himself in what appeared to be quite a serious road accident. The bus and half a kilometre’s length of cars were backed up behind the accident scene, because the road was lined with hedgerow, and there was no possibility to turn around. We were held up for almost an hour, unavoidably so, and people were starting to get restless. Once the helicopter ambulance had taken off, the bus was able to slowly pass the accident site in the opposite lane. At the point that our busload of people lurched to the side window and began furiously snapping, filming, gawping, pointing and giggling at the crash site, including the car which had to be opened using the jaws of life, we knew that we were on the wrong planet. It was like some kind of poor-taste parody. The fucking humanity!

That is all.

Markets and musicals... cliche much? @ Notting Hill, United Kingdom

2008-06-22T14:20:03.000Z

After the abomination that was the bus tour to Bath, we decided just to trust our instincts and do things ourselves. We had initially planned to go out for drinks with various Megs on our return, but were both just too 'blah' to do anything more than grab a cheap meal and go to bed.
We had high hopes for the next day, including a planned 7:30 wakeup, so we could be at our first destination by 9. That plan was promptly thrown out the window when I saw 10:48 on the clock as I woke up. I haven't slept in that late in Australia in months- typical that it should happen while we're on holiday. All in all though, I think the late start actually worked out well. Without any real plan, or specific times and places to be anywhere, we just let ourselves wander at our own pace, and had a really great day.

We started off heading to Leicester Square to organise our entertainment for the evening (we couldn't have held our heads up high if we spent a week living in the West End without seeing at leaset one show). After walking past several "Official" half price ticket stalls, we finally found THE official booth and managed to nab 8th row centre tickets to "Avenue Q", which was a lot of fun- think of the puppets from Sesame Street, as controlled by a group of bawdy undergrads. The lead role was played by a reality TV runner-up, and despite how bad that sounds, he (and the production) was really good. In Australia we have our Idol winners getting dodgy record deals and SYTYCD winners getting to audition for something-or-other, but here "Any Dream Will Do" was searching for the next West End lead for Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dream Coat..not bad. Not that I'm surprised, mind you. After all, this is a city that will turn anything, and i mean ANYTHING into a musical, and run them all at the same time. In our week here, we've seen ads for (and this is the abridged version) *deep breath* Grease, Lord of the Rings, Avenue Q, Marguerite, Blood Brothers, Take That, Jersey Boys, Mamma Mia, Phantom of the Opera, Billy Elliot, Wicked, Zorro, Hairspray, Lion King, We Will Rock You, Spamalot, High School Musical, Sound of Music, Le Mis, Chicago *gasp* and I know there's more we're missing.

After buying our tickets, we made our way (despite the obstacles put forward by the Underground) to Borough Markets, made famous (to use at least) by Mr Pukka himself, Jamie Oliver. As much of a twat as he may be, he does have good taste in Markets, and we could have spent hours here- filled as they were with french cheeses and wine, spanish cured meats, freshly baked/made/roasted/cooked breads/meats/coffees/sweets. The only reasone we didn't was the fact that we had no way of cooking anything we bought, as well as the realisation that no matter how great the markets were here in London, we'd BE in France and Spain in the next few weeks to try the real thin for ourselves. So, continuing with our "when in Rome" philosophy to food (which has seen us suffer through bangers and mash, fish pie, bacon sandwiches, and full English breakfasts) we waited in line for about 20 mins, before eventually getting to feast on a Wild Boar, and an Ostrich sausage sandwich as big as our heads. Tasty, though the resulting mess caused by the mixture if pig fat and flour wasn't exactly pretty.

Filled with meat products as we were, we waddled our way to the Tate Modern gallery, which was AMAZING. It was a tough choice, only made at the insistent screaming of our feet, to leave some 4 hours later. A sprawling mixture of paintings, sculptures, installations and such, the gallery was really well organised, and explained. Normally, we don't go for the "Audio" tours, and especially after the debacle that was our previous experience with organised tours, I'm suprised we took this one, but really glad we did. For non-"arty" types such as ourselves, it was awesome- heaps of information on the artists, their backgrounds, life stories, as well as pictures of similar works, and timelines so you actually put the works in their place without sounding like an utter prat. Then again, a golden blob of metal was described as "realising the innate essence of fishness" so I guess we could sound like utter prats if we really wanted to.

Thats about it for now... we're a few days behind with our entries, so the Portobello markets, and the London Eye from the photos will have to wait until the next entry. For now, we need to make our way back to the B&B for our bags and head off to Gatwick for our flight to Berlin. Next time you hear from us, we'll be surrounded by Germans!

K&B

Last days in London @ Notting Hill, United Kingdom

2008-06-22T14:21:10.000Z

Our last few days in London were a mishmash of quiet wandering and frantic running around. (A warning in advance, I'm currently writing this on a German keyboard, with letters and punctuation all swapped around, so forgive me any crazy spelling mishaps).
We met up with an old GASSie friend on Sunday morning, who, as luck would have it, was visiting London for the weekend. We had a nice little stroll through Portobello Market, marvelling at all the antiques, knickknacks and memorabilia from bygone eras. It was very tempting to buy an old Five Million Deutschmark note, and try to spend it when we got here :)
After lunch we made our way to the Eye, and were incredibly lucky with the weather. The last few days had been miserable and drizzly, but we got blue skies and sun for all our photos, and great views around the whole London area, as you can see.
Finally, dinner and drinks with an old friend of Kit's, and FINALLY a meal in London which made us think we were living in a major city. Of course it would have to be on our last night! Was great to meet/catch up with Lauren and Gus, and it seems we've added two more to our merry band of wedding guests (we're up to 4 now *S*)

Speaking of the wedding, Monday was all about getting everything sorted for the big day. We went to the Marylebone Town Hall, to register our intent to marry, and thankfully, everything went off without a hitch! We have a room, a date, a time, witnesses, a photographer, a registrar, rings,suits...all thats left to do is wait for the requisite 15 days, to see if someone has any objections to our intent to marry, or can dispute our claim of a lack of consanguinity (which the registrar was quite surprised we even knew the meaning of) We still have a few weeks to decide on the final "script" for the ceremony, and find a place to relax with the guests afterwards. Oh and of course, to organise a cake. We went to a local patisserie after our meeting at the Town Hall just to "see what was out there", but I think we'll need to do some more research before we're completely satisfied with our decision :)

Then, after tube-ing back to the B&B we made our way to Gatwick, which is without doubt the worst Airport we have ever been to... though we couldn't expect much else travelling, as we were, with EZJet. After a complete lack of signage to get anyhwere, we were given a boarding pass with an indecipherable scribble in the place of our boarding gate, and shoved off with no further information- the attendants were too busy worrying about the people trying to check-in for a flight closing in 2 minutes to talk to us. We kept looking around for cameras, expecting to end up on Border Patrol!, or Airport!, or some other suitably exclamational TV show. We found our way to Step 1 of the security process, which served to break up a normally simple process, into three rooms and three queues- one room just to check your boarding pass, one room for xray, and another room just for your shoes. Then, out into the cavernous boarding lounge, only to be told 'Please Wait' on every functional screen in regards to our Gate number. Despite being warned of a 15 minute walk to get to the Boarding gate, we were only told where we were boarding 10 minutes before we were due. I have some vague concerns about an airport that doesn't know where planes will be landing until they actually do- I have a mental picture of some pilot coming in to land, pointing frantically, saying "there's a spot, quick, land there, before someone else takes it" like he was trying to park in Highpoint on Christmas Eve.

But, despite all the stupidity, we made it in one piece, and we're now finally in Berlin! More to come in our next entry...or when we actually do something here other than our laundry.

Bis dann,
K&B

Ich bin ein Jam-Donut @ Berlin, Germany

2008-06-24T14:45:14.000Z

Hello all. We are doing a tandem blog update to make up for the couple of days that we went without internet. I know, what a travesty!

So, here we were are in Berlin. I (K) have been pretty sick since we left London, with some manner of unidentified snot-producing malady, which mean that much of our time in Berlin was not as excitingly spent as expected. I'm feeling much better now, but needed that time to rest, I think. It coincided with a much-needed laudromat day, so we were pretty restrained for much of the time there...

We began our first afternoon in Berlin by walking from our hotel near the Zoologischer Garten train station to the Siegessäule (Victory column), which is in the Großer Tiergarten park (formerly a hunting park) at the end of the avenue which leads to the Brandenburg Gate. The last time I was in Berlin, they were doing major restorative work on the Gate, so it was covered in a tarpaulin with a picture of the gate printed on it. It was, it could be said, underwhelming then. This time, however, it was all nice and revealed, and certainly looked wonderful. Except that it's the football (soccer) European Championships (something or other... can you tell I'm missing that gene?) here at the moment, so behind it was a Coca-Cola-sponsored space for an expected 500,000 fans to watch the Germany/Turkey game and set off fireworks in the street together. It did detract from the Gate somewhat, but I managed to get some photos without all the Coke crap in them.

We walked around the city for a few more hours and absorbed some of the Germanness of it all. We went looking for dinner, and had we been more absorptive of the Germanness of it all, we might have tried the Schweinshaxe, a traditional dish made from not much more than boiled pig's leg, which has the colour and presumed consistency of a mattress made out of tongues. There's a photo for your interest/ disgust here (P.S. Not recommended for the vegetarians among us!)). As you can see, it's not the most appetising thing you've ever seen. The table next to us ordered it and one man proceeded to eat it for a good half hour without taking a breath. All the while, I was squealing uncontrollably in disgust. I'm sure it's an experience, and to some people's taste (I've put B on a don't-ask-don't-tell policy), but it's not for me.

We spent the next day walking along the Kurfürstendamm, a long shopping avenue which claims to be Berlin's Champs-Élysées. We'll have to see about that! We also walked through Alexanderplatz, past the famous Fernsehturm (TV-Tower) and along the river past the Museumsinsel (Island of Museums).

We returned to the hotel, both tired from walking (and me from snotting) fairly early and got a good night's sleep despite ridiculous European pillows conspiring against us.

A foodstuff the Germans can do well is breakfast, which always consists of 4-5 kinds each of cheese, cured meats, breads, and spreads to choose from. I could sit there for hours trying to decided whether crème fraîche and prosciutto is better than cheddar and ham on rye or pumpernickel!!

We left Berlin by train (first class is part of our Eurail pass deal, so we weren't complaining!!) and arrived, as Beau will describe, in lovely (brand-spanking new) Dresden!

For now,
K&B

I like your Altstadt better than your Neustadt @ Dresden, Germany

2008-06-26T13:46:09.000Z

Despite the short amount of time we're getting spend here, Dresden is already proving to be a bit of a highlight. Not that we're really doing much while we're here, but the location, the surroundings and everything have been wonderful!

We arrived around lunchtime yesterday and made our way to the 'Altstadt' (old city) which ironically was really only built this year. Most of Dresden Aldstadt was completely destroyed during the War, and has recently been rebuilt to provide the city with a City Centre again. What could have been a hideous exercise in tackiness has actually been done really well- the colours and open spaces all feel new, but the building have been built to recreate the area before it was bombed. It's especially interesting to see the Frauenkirche, which had only two towers left standing, built almost from scratch using a mixture of brand new stone, and some salvaged from the original.

Speaking of the Frauenkirche, check out the view from our apartment window in the pics! We scored such a coup with this place- the hotel itself only opened about a week ago, so we managed to grab an 'Opening Week Special' price when we booked in Australia. A fully appointed apartment, lounge room, kitchen, flatscreen tvs, stemless glassware (its the little things that count *S*), and the most amazing view of the Frauenkirche, which is literally 10m away.

We took the opportunity of having a kitchen and stayed home and cooked, which admittedly wasn't the most successful venture. Having to make do with a mini-aldi supermarket, and also knowing that we're only going to be here for 2 nights meant we didn't have too much choice when it came to ingredients, but it did give us an excuse to relax at 'home' for the night. While I was shopping for dubious ingredients, Kit went to a Vinoteka we had seen earlier and managed to find a bottle of Hungarian 'Regent' wine which we had never heard of, and probably won't get the chance to try again. Not a bad way to spend the night- listening to the bells toll 10m away, enjoying a fine Hungarian red!

That being said, as great as the apartment is, one thing (well, two actually) that Germans seem to struggle with, is beds and showers. So far every place we've stayed at in Germany, even when we've specifically asked for a double bed has been made up of twin single beds. And not just in the 'two boys, give them single beds' way- even where we've had a 'double' bed, it has just been two twin beds pushed together. It kind of reminds me of some 50s sitcom where the parents kiss sweetly on the cheeks, read, and retire to their separate sleeping area for the night. We'll both probably come back with 3rd degree burns too, from German showers. Of course hot water and cold water come from different pipes, but rather than insulate them, or better yet, hide them behind the wall, German showers have them at about hip level, in shiny heat-conductive metal. Thank god for all the practice I got dealing with steam wands and espresso machines. Who knew that it would be so helpful preparing me to take a German shower!

Another quiet one today, wandering through the Neustadt, and making sure we have a seat on the train for our trip to Munich tomorrow. Looking forward to checking out the Grüne Gewölbe this afternoon, which is a collection of ridiculously large jewels and treasures in the Altstadt, and then maybe trying another wine from another unlikely country in our ridiculously large wine glasses!

Join us next time from Munich where we'll be chugging beer from ridiculously large mugs, and eating ridiculously large Brezeln, both as big as our heads!

Love,
K&B

Brezl bigger than your head! @ Munich, Germany

2008-06-28T17:00:29.000Z

Liebe Leute, this post comes to you from München (Munich), the capital of Bayern (Bavaria). We spent two days here, coming on the train from Dresden.

The main reasons to come to Munich were: to hear everyone speak funny (chuckle!), to buy a breze (pretzel) bigger than my head, and to be as cheesy as touristically possible by having a 1-litre Maß (massive glass) of beer at the Hofbräuhaus, complete with mysteriously fried local specialties, to relieve fond memories of being 16. When we get home I'll do a photo comparison, but there's a time-honoured "Going, Going, Gone" to prove the deed was done.

Munich was very different during summer, having been here last time in the deepest winter. We walked around the city and found that much of it had been fenced off for a cross-city marathon. We managed to forge a path through the throng of sweaty orange people (their corporate-sponsored T-shirts and their faces in equal measure) and around to the Marienkirche, the gothicky (that's the techical architectural term) church in the photos.

We also visited the Sendlinger Tor, Isartor and Karlstor, three of the old gates into the old city of Munich (there are scant photos, because the light wasn't super). We strolled along the statue-festooned Maximilianbrücke (bridge) and crossed the river Isar to see the Bayerische Landtag (state parliament building of Bavaria).

We then wandered through the Englischer Garten (which I didn't do in the winter), which is a massive public park flanking the Isar river. Funnily enough, a good crowd of Münchners often enjoy a spot of sunbathing on the stony river banks (there's a bit of a photo of the beach) and brazen mid-morning-nudity sunbathing in the middle of the park. Businesspeople apparently often take their lunch break in the park and drop trou to take in a bit of sun before heading back to the office. Coming from a sea-beach culture, it looks a little strange to see people sitting along the bank of a river smack-bang in the middle of a city.

The weather has been altogether warm, peculiar in my limited European experience, and it has actually meant a little sunburn. We're gearing ourselves up for Spain (expecting 10° more) which will be a whole other experience!! It was beautiful walking around the Englischer Garten and made our Neuschwanstein photos a dream. We've done really well to have only one rainy day so far, but I hear it's a bit wild back in Australia, so I hope you're all well!

K&B

Ze castle of ze crazy King @ Hohenschwangau, Germany

2008-06-30T11:49:39.000Z

Despite our protestations to the contrary, I know there is a kitschy tourist in both of us, just waiting to be let loose. What better place to let it all hang out than the fabled unfinished (one of several, actually) fairytale castle of crazy King Ludwig II of Bavaria, Schloß Neuschwanstein! Tucked into the hills of Hohenschwangau, and within spitting distance of Austria, Neuschwanstein has the (dubious) distinction of being the inspiration for the Disney castle, as well as a tribute to all things Wagnerian, and is nothing if not kitschy!

The surrounding area seems to survive solely on their holiday trade, cashing in on the overseas tourists coming just to see the castle, and Germans who also choose to take in the scenery and relaxing surroundings. Just about every house in Brunnen, the village we're staying in, has been turned into a B&B, and just around the corner from us is a huge camping ground on the edge of a gorgeous lake. Fingers crossed the weather holds out, so we can go for a swim tonight!

One would think with all of this tourist trade, that there would be some form of public transport, but alas, no. Brunnen is lucky to get one bus service in either direction every 2 hours or so, so after we made our way to our hotel to drop off our bags, we had no choice but to walk the several kilometres to Schwangau to catch the bus to take us to the castle. Then again, after the last few weeks, the walk is becoming pretty normal, and in actual fact gave us a great chance to take in some of the scenery without the flocks of tourists we would find at Neuschwanstein. As I'm typing this (at around 6pm), the last bus to Brunnen has already left for the night, so we might have to repeat the process!.

The castle, and surrounding forests were worth any walk we may have had to take. Photos can't begin to describe the amazing views of, from and around the castle. Kit had already been during the middle of winter, and said that it was a completely different experience this time, especially seeing as some of the paths we walked to get some of our photos are closed during winter due to the Lebensgefahr (danger of death) that the snow and ice create.

The castle itself really is the creation of a crazy man. Construction took over 17 years, but stopped completely when King Ludwig II died under mysterious circumstances. As a result, while the outside is mostly complete, only a third of the rooms inside the castle are finished as the König had planned, but you can definitely see where those 17 years went. Who needs to buy paintings to hang on your wall, when you can have every single internal surface painted with literally hundreds of wall-sized panels depicting scenes from Wagnerian operas, and great love stories: King Arthur and Guinevere, Tristan and Isolde etc. Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to take photos within the castle, because nothing I write can really explain how ridiculously opulent, kitschy and brilliant the castle truly is. I mean really, the man had a personal chapel built in his bedroom, had a chandelier in the Throne room weighing 900kg made to represent a Byzantian crown, and turned an entire room of the castle into a cave grotto, complete with stalactites and rock formations! One of his lesser castles in Chiemsee has a perfect recreation of the Hall of Mirrors, from the Palace of Versailles...only bigger! Judging from some of the original plans we saw of the castle, he actually wanted to do more to it still!

We rested our aching legs on the way back by taking a relaxing horse-carriage trip to the bottom of the mountain. The fact that we were the youngest people on the carriage by about 60 years did reinforce our idea that we're just a pair of Grandmas though!

So that's pretty much it from the bustling metropolis that is Hohenschwangau. Time for us to enjoy our last night in Germany. All things going to plan, we have a swim and a sauna awaiting us, not to mention some dinner consisting of meat stuffed with meat, washed down with a beer as big as your head! Of course we'll be in Paris tomorrow where we can be far more sophisticated, but until then... Prosit!

K&B

Malvenue à Paris! @ Paris, France

2008-07-01T15:49:28.000Z

Apologies for the dust that has been settling on our blog; between changing plans, and difficulties finding internet cafés, this is our first chance in a while to post, but we're back with a vengeance. Also, apologies for the following post if there are crazy spelling errors- apparently French keyboards are even stranger than German ones. OK... onwards.

So, as promised, we found a cute little restaurant in Brunnen, with an amazing view of the Forggensee and the surrounding mountains; we dined on meat wrapped in meat (no beers as big as our heads though- they only had the comparatively "small" half-litre variety) and we took a moonlight swim with a perfect view of the castle. I can honestly say, walking back to the hotel that evening I was about as relaxed as I can remember feeling in a long, long time. Aaah, how things can change in the space of 24 hours.

We'd already had a mini-heart attack in München when we tried to reserve our seats to Paris, only to be told by the cashier that it would be impossible to get there, as there were no more seats for Eurail passholders. If we wanted seats, they would cost us several hundred Euro. We found a dodgy internet café, and frantically searched for any plane, train or automobile (or combination thereof) that would get us there, before we gave up and returned to the station, tails between our legs, fully resigned to having to pay several hundred Euro for tickets we'd essentially already paid for. Thankfully, we got another cashier this time who, with a few keystrokes, told us that the seats were ours, no problems. It turns out that the first cashier was just an idiot! Another bit of stress occurred when our already tight 7 minute transfer at Stuttgart was made even tighter when our train incurred a 5 minute delay- giving us about 2 minutes to catch our connecting train, which we did... barely!

So really, we should have been happy to make it to Paris at all! It was starting to seem like someone didn't want us to to be there. This was made more apparent when we went to book the rest of our French trains, only to be told that every train to Quimper was booked on the day we wanted to travel. So, our choices were either to leave Paris a day later and miss our friends' wedding, which was the initial reason we decided to come to Europe, or to leave a day early and lose a chunk of time from Paris. Obviously, there wasn't a 'choice' here at all so we, not very happily, booked an earlier train, and resolved to try and cram Paris into a day.

I'm silently fuming at this point, as we head off to catch the Metro to where we'll be staying. After standing in a line a the ticket machine for 10 minutes, because 2 machines were already broken, watching people walk away as normal, someone at the front of the line finally decides to tell the rest of us that this one is broken too, so we get to join the back of the ONE remaining line to buy tickets. Now, keep in mind that Gare de L'Est is a local, regional, national and international hub station, servicing a city of 9 million people in the City Centre alone. So, imagine ONE ticket machine for Flinders St, Spencer St, and ooh, let's throw in the Airport just for fun... do you see where I'm going with this?

We waited another 10 minutes, without moving, before choosing the lesser of two evils- walking 2kms, in 30° heat with assorted rucksacks, backpacks and a rapidly expanding souvenir bag, through the middle of Paris, navigating unmarked streets, to get to our hotel. By the time we got there the 'silent fuming' had turned to 'silent smoke coming from my ears'. I did calm down though, figured that there was nothing that we could d about it all now, and was determined to enjoy the remaining little time we had in Paris. With that in mind, I put on a nice new shirt, and thought we could go to a little French bistro, maybe order a bottle of Côte du Rhone, have some Pâtè de Campagne, some foie gras an enjoy the finer things France has to offer, and forget about the last few hours. A great idea really, until our waiter knocked my glass of said Côte du Rhone all over me, ruining my favourite new shirt, before emptying a shaker of salt on me to 'fix' it. The rest of the dinner passed in a bit of a haze, really.

We went back to the hotel, determined to sleep and start fresh on Wednesday, but even that wasn't to be. The 30° heat meant we had to have the windows and curtains open, but the sun not even starting to set until after 10pm meant that it was like the middle of the day in our room until after midnight. Arrgh... Paris, je ne t'aime pas!

OK, that's it, spleen vented. Let us never speak of it again.

K&B

Tuesday? What Tuesday?! @ Paris, France

2008-07-02T05:14:42.000Z

With our time in Paris quite limited, we had to keep to a relatively tight schedule, but at the same time we didn’t want to run through a checklist of places we only visited for 2 seconds. So, with a general plan in mind we set out on our way and where better to start than the Eiffel Tower?!

First though, we had to brave the Metro, and what Kit has affectionately dubbed the “nefarious hell wagons” (which sounds much more sophisticated as Les wagens nefarieueses de L’Enfer) Crammed full like a tin of sardinesm taking off at 100 km/hr, then stopping to the sound of a spring “boing-ing” likes a cartoon character landing on its head, doors open while the train is still moving, people pour out, then an air raid siren sounds, the doors shut with the strength and speed of some demonic crocodile, and the whole cycle starts again. Illustrated using a fluffy bunny rabbit, the safety stickers warn travelers to keep their fingers away from said doors, or they will bite them the fuck off- or something to that effect. I’m not sure if it’s a comedy, a horror movie, or a social experiment. Only the country responsible for Sartre could devise such a means of mass transportation.

Having emerged relatively unscathed from the Porte de L’Enfer, we were in Trocadero and directly opposite the Tower. The next challenge was battling our way through the hordes of dodgy souvenir hawkers, and then making our way happily through the platoon of uniformed firemen (don’t ask why, just enjoy- we did!) and then, we were there! On account of the ridiculous queues and our limited time in Paris, we decided to forgo the trip to the top of the Tower, but took plenty of time instead appreciating it from the ground. I’m surprised at how quickly it was built, after getting the supports finished, it only took a year to complete- it seems to be taking 3 times that long just to finish the Melbourne “Eye”!

We took a leisurely stroll back across the river and made our way to the Arc de Triomphe, where no amount of hook-turns could prepare us for the insanity of a 6-lane roundabout! The Arc itself is beautiful, albeit with some ‘questionable’ sculptures, which you can see below. The next stop, of course, was to wander along the Avenue des Champs Elysses, taking in the sights and the haughty glares of the shop attendants if we dared to pass too close to their doors. We made our way to Concorde and the infamous obelisk pilfered from Egypt, before we found sanctuary from the approaching rain in the Musee D’Orsay. Thoughtfully, the Musee D’Orsay provides its “juniors” discount to all of those young’uns under the age of 30. Inside is an amazing collection of artworks with a focus on Impressionism and Classicism, which I love; Monet, Renoir, Van Gogh, Signac… it has to be seen to be believed (you can seem some of the works in the photos section) We spent an easy few hours there, and only left because our change of plans left us without a place to stay the following night, which still needed to be arranged, and precious little time left to explore the rest of the city.

Our last real “sight” for the day was the Notre Dame cathedral, before we found ourselves wandering the streets of the island it's built on, in our search for an internet cafe to find a place to sleep for the next day. As usual, however, we got sidetracked by a little alley with a boulangerie and fromagerie. When we looked in a little grocery store for batteries for the camera (side note: just saying English words wiz a rideeculoos french uksent doesn't always work, hence the sideways looks we got when asking a cashier for a packet of chicken farms, batteries) Anywaym carrying on, we werre gobsmacked to find Moet and Chandon, and Veuve Clicquot champagne for €30! (less than half what we pay for it at home!) So, that was our decision made- rather than pay €40 to have someone else spill wine all over us, we could do it ourselves. Back to the boulangerie and fromageriem and we had ourselves a classy hotel room picnic of bread and cheese, and french champagne from plastic flutes.

Sufficed to say, a great time was had by all, and yes, we did end up finding a place to stay for Thursday, but before then we still had a whole morning left in Paris- to be spent enirely in the Louvre, but I'll leave that for another post. For now, we have to go and buy some wine to ship home, before the post office shuts. Til next time!

K&B

The Louvre in 30 seconds @ Musée du Louvre, France

2008-07-02T18:39:57.000Z

Part of me feels dirty describing the cramming of hundreds of years worth of art and culture into a few hours, but such is the way of things. Passing by the ubiquitous Starbucks inside the entry to the Louvre (we really are everywhere), we arrived in the grand entrance hall, where as you can see, we got a little snap happy- still, it does make for some interesting photos. The art was breathtaking; but both of us where just as impressed with the building itself, the frescoes that adorn the ceiling, and surrounding views. One of my favourite moments from the whole day was looking into a 'storage' room (you can see the photo below), and seeing all the 'junk' that they hadn't found a place for!

We took an audio guide; but really just let ourselves wander wherever we felt like it at the time, which happened to stqrt qt Greek sculpture. Sculpture has always been something I've found fascinating; but definitely can't profess to actually know anything about. Maybe now I can bring up the Rebellious Slave and Psyche Abandonded in casual conversation as if I actually have a clue.

Without really meaning to, we stumbled across the Venus de Milo, and the Winged Victory of Samothrace, spent some more time wandering through halls of Italian Masters, before finally allowing ourselves to see the Mona Lisa. I think it was an unspoken rule that we weren't going to go straight there, or really seek it out; like 'all those other tourists', and that we'd try and appreciate everything else on offer before we saw it. Honestly, I'm glad we did as out of all of the 'Masterpieces', it was probably the biggest let down- not because the painting isn't wondeful, which it is, but ,ore becquse of the atmosphere in the room itself. The painting is hanging behind a thick glass screen; which itself is separated from the public by about 5 metres, where throngs of camera toting tourists jostle each other to get a shot. At least with Hammurabi's Code of Law, or Winged Victory, and even with the Venus de Milo you can circle around, get close enough almost to touch, and truly appreciate them. So there she is, poor Jaconde, beautiful, enigmatic but a victim of her own popularity.

By this stage time was starting to get away from us, so after some more pyramidal photos, we took our leave and headed back to retrieve our bags before making our way to the train station. An ill-advised trip to the internet cafe in between meant that, yet again, we were cutting it quite fine when it came to actually boarding our train. When we couldn't find anywhere in Republique to buy tickets, which had us staring frantically at our watches...

To avoid the same fate befalling us again, I'm going to leave the internet cafe now, while we still have plenty of time to make our next train... more updates soon

K&B

That Spears bird has given Brittany a bad name... @ Quimper, France

2008-07-03T21:30:27.000Z

We came to Quimper for the wedding of a friend who was in Beau's group when he went on exchange to Germany, and who was my group leader when I went to Germany. We received the invitation about a year ago and initially thought, "We can't go to France for your wedding!" but we thought about it more and more, and decided, "To heck with it all! Why not go to Europe and make a proper trip out of it!!" (I don't think I said "heck", but you get the idea.) So it's thanks to Amelia that we're here!!

We arrived in Quimper a day earlier than planned, having compressed the entirety of Paris into a day and a half. We had to book an extra night in an extra cheap hotel €30 [$45ish] is a bargain, if you're prepared to sleep in what was almost a space shuttle capsule of a room, minus the potential for awesomeness inherent in a space shuttle capsule... After our first unexciting night, we moved to our proper hotel, which was an improvement of at least 5 stars on the previous, while still being nowhere near 5 itself.

Our first day was spent uninterestingly doing the washing, so I'll skip ahead to the the wedding. The evening before, all of the many family and friends from afar (being a multinational wedding) congregated at the groom's grandmother's house on a quiet country road past the outskirts of town. We were given what passes for an address in these parts: a boat shop after which to turn left at some indeterminate point, and the promise of a well-ballooned signpost. Meanwhile, in my best French (think, "Me Tarzan, you taxi!"), we managed to navigate there quite successfully, even in the absence of the promised balloons.

The day of the wedding the driver thankfully knew the church, so we arrived without fuss. It was a wonderfully old building (someone else's photo here), and the ceremony was lovely, albeit mostly in French (we're a little rusty on our Catholic hymns in French...). It was the church where, apparently, generations of the groom's family had been married, so there was a lot of tradition for our Aussie Amelia to uphold. The reception and dinner was wonderful, and it certainly got us thinking about our own when we get back into Australia. I can just imagine the caper Dad would get up to giving a father-of-the-groom speech now...

We used the early part of the next day to explore the township, which we hadn't much had the opportunity to do yet. Quimper is built over the river Odet, which must be more vigorous at other times of the year, because it was nary a trickle while we were there, despite the proliferation of bridges crossing it, joining the two lanes of the main street. There was another beautiful cathedral (you may have noticed the photos from everywhere so far are mostly churches, bridges, and statues of people on sticks... yes, we have noticed a pattern!) The other fascinating thing about Brittany (Bretagne) is that it is bilingual, with French and a Celtic language (related to Irish, Scottish Gaelic, Manx and Welsh, via its close proximity to the coast of the Great Britain), and almost all of the street signs are in both languages, as you'll see.

Which takes us to Bordeaux, which you'll get to read about next!!

K&B

Let the wine flow freely! @ Bordeaux, France

2008-07-07T09:14:31.000Z

Arriving at after 10:30pm on a Sunday night, we weren't sure how regularly the trams would be running, so we figured we'd cough up the €8ish we expected our taxi to cost for the 2km trip from the station to the hotel. As we pulled into the kerb, the meter read €8, only to be replaced by €20 a second later. When we questioned paying €20 for a 5 minute cab ride, we were told "Cést Dimanche" (It's Sunday), as if that was a perfectly legitimate reason for this moonlight robbery. Not knowing the French for "Cram your Dimanche up your derriere", we meekly paid up and checked into our hotel, which although small and very French, had a beautiful view which you can see in the pics. Cost aside though, the cab trip was gorgeous- seeing all the historical buildings bathed in lights along the river. In the last decade the mayor of Bordeaux has apparently spent a heap of time an money on revitalising the city centre- cutting off large areas to cars and turning them into pedestrian zones, installing state-of-the-art trams with no overhead wires, cleaning all of the historic old sandstone buildings, and putting in dramatic lighting anywhere of interest. The effect is amazing, as the city is clean, wide open, lively, and magical at night.

Day one in Bordeuax was all about the wine. We spent the morning at LÉcole de Vin learning all about the area around Bordeuax, the appellations, soils and terroir before getting to try some ourselves. Later we got to check Croque Monsieur off the "Things you have to eat in France" list at lunch, and then we were off on our vineyard tour. We braved the dreaded tourbus again for this one, as there was no other way we could physically get to the Chateaux ourselves, and thankfully this one was considerably less painful. Still, lots of driving for relatively little time at each vineyard, but at least the countryside was interesting, and the tour guide had to spend so much time talking about history, geology and viniculture 101 in both English and French, that there wasn't enought time for her to fall into the dodgy standup routine that marred the trip to Stonehenge. The time at each of the vineyards was very informative (and tasty!), but a word of warning- it appears to be written into the constitution of the Allied Union of Bordelais Wine Educators to mention the soil. EVERY single person who spoke (the tour guide, the vineyard owners, the presenter at the Ecole de Vin, some random on the street) went to great lengths to explain the soil compositions in different areas and how it affects the grapes. Still, it sunk in, so it must have worked- we can tell you all about the difference between gravel and clay soils, why Merlot grows better on the Right Bank, and what makes and AOC Bordeaux wine!

We tried (in vain) for about half an hour to find somewhere open on a Monday night serving escargot, so we could tick that box off too (Side note: we did find somewhere on Tuesday night, as you can see from the photos). In the end we went for a little bistro, and settled for some local red, oysters and foie gras, content and enjoying ourselves when we had one of those "uh-oh, what have i ordered?" moments, when I was presented with a plate of veal liver, instead of the plain old veal I was expecting. Thankfully, it was actually pretty good, even if the texture was a bit reminiscent of a seared meat-sponge. Kit would vehemently disagree, claiming it has wrenched porkbelly from its long held position of "most disgusting foodstuff". On the flipside, at least not knowing much French proved to be slightly helpful in this instance. Not knowing the French word for "rare", which is how I'd normally order meat, when we were asked how we'd like it cooked, the best we could think of was moyen (medium), which was probably a blessing- a bleeding piece of liver might have been a bit much, even for me.

We had grand romantic plans for the next day, involving travelling to Pessac (about 40 minutes on the tram, from the centre of Bordeaux) to an open air market, getting some bread, cheese, meat and wine, and traipsing into the hills for a seculded picnic. We got to Pessac without a hassle, but the market had already closed and the rest of the town had entered into its requisite French faux-siesta, where literally EVERYTHING shuts between 12 and 3pm. Who needs to worry about rostering coverage for lunch breaks when you can just shut the whole shop instead? No doubt at 1pm next Monday when I'm at work, I'll be bemoaning thhe lack of a "continental lunch break" in Australia, but when it comes to making grand picnic plans, it was a pain in the arse. So, with nothing else of interest in Pessac, we promptly returned to Bordeaux proper (Side note: ONE thing of interest about Pessac, is that its one of Bordeaux's 57 distinct appellations for gorwing wine, and is also the only one that we visited on our own. Without knowing we were travelling to Bordeaux, let alone Pessac, a friend of our bought us a bottle of AOC Pessac wine as an engagement present! Quite the coincidence...but i digress)

Back in Bordeaux we went about in our newly discovered snap-happy manner, wandering through the historical, the seedy, and the scenic parts of town, taking photos of anything vaguely interesting. With our exploring done, we put some of that new wine knowledge to good use choosing a case for ourselves. This proved to be the easy part, as navigating postage requirements, GST and the (now-)dreaded Wine Equalisation Tax made things more difficult than it needed to be. Still, it will be a nice surprise after we get home!

Thats pretty much it from Bordeaux, and from France actually. Next stop, Barcelona. ¡Ole!

K&B

A very Gaudí day @ Barcelona, Spain

2008-07-10T10:00:48.000Z

Giving ourselves plenty of time for once, we arrived at Gare Bordeaux St Jean ready to deaprt for Spain. Stocked as we were with French reading material, of various levels of artistic merit (everything from "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" to a French translation of "Sex and the City" and cute-boy magazines- all for "translation practice", of course), the train to our first stop Narbonne was mostly unexcitingexcept for passing through the awesomely fortified town of Carcassone, which we saw briefly from the train but might make time to explore if we're in Europe again. A dodgy döner, a quick catch-up blogging, and we were back off again for our 2nd leg, all the way to Barcelona, on the dodgiest, most run-down train this side of the 1950s. You could almost hear the original stewardesses (and I use this word quite deliberately) giggling as the travelling businessmen pinched their backsides, while sipping martinis amidst the "modern" crushed velvet seats and beige, taupe and russet interior. Gears crunched and wheels screeched with every slight curve in the rail, and would almost knock the stuffing from the threadbare seats. All this was forgotten however, when we rounded a bend to see the wide open expanse of the Mediterranean open up before us. Red craggy mountains on one side, and bright blue sea on the other make for quite an amazing view! The only other major distraction on an otherwise uneventful journey was when the train stopped just over the Spanish border, police boarded, looked around, and we were the only ones in our carriage asked to produce passports. They seemed fine, when we could show that we were Australian, but who knows what web of internation intrigue we were mistakenly thought to be involved in? Our real story, of two travelling grandmas, is much less exciting :)

So we arrived in Barcelona, and yet again found ourselves in linguistic limbo; that hazy grey are between the black and white of two languages, which marks our passage into a new country. After a week of merci and s'il vous plait becoming almost second nature, gracias and quisiera needed a bit of coaxing to come out with any degree of confidence. This was made even worse by the fact that our hotel was in fact the only GERMAN run guesthouse in Barcelona, where the owner (a ridiculous, paunchy, middle-aged German with a too-tight T-Shirt and a miniature dog under one arm) only spoke German to us.

After some much needed rest, we woke to embark on our Gaudí dominated tour of Barcelona. We started at the Mirador de Colom, and then made our way along the tourist trap that is Las Ramblas. Desperate for something to eat, we took a detour through the Barri Gotic and despite wending our way through the labyrinthine turns of the Gothic Quarter with no fixed destination in mind, we ended up coming back out onto Las Ramblas at pretty much the exact point we left it. Just a bit further on we found a resh food market, where we happily wandered, buying punnets of berries, bags of figs and fresh exotic juices for €1. Add some local cheese, jamón and bread, and we had a lunch fit for Kings, paid for by paupers.

We briefly contemplated catching the Metro to Sagrada Familia, before deciding that, despite the sweltering heat, we could first manage to walk the few blocks along the Passeig de Gracia to the Casa Batlló. You'd think we would have learned by now, having used the same "it's just a few blocks' justification to cover vast tracts of London, Paris, Berlin and Munich by foot, in a day, and return, exhausted, to our hotel each night (Side note: were it not for all the wine, cheese, sausage, beer, pate, duck etc. etc. that we've been sampling along the way, we'd both probably be fitter than we've been in ages ever.) That being said, we still then walked between Casa Batlló, La Padrera and the Sagrada Familia, before whimping out and metro-ing to Lesseps, only to have to walk to 1.5km to Parc Güell and then around some of its 15 hectare expanse. All of those sights were designed/built/renovated by Catalunyan architect Anotní Gaudí, who, if you believe the audio guide at Casa Batlló is a "genius the likes of which the world has never seen". They say there is a fine line between genius and insanity, and Gaudí definitely balances very precariously on the dge. His own professor said it best when he pondered "I'm not sure if we're giving this architecture degree to a genius, or a madman". Hailed as the champion of Spanish Modernism, his style somehow blends countless curves, organic natural shapes, muted woods, vibrant mosaics and futurist sculpture into a complex, but unique style. His cathedral, Sagrada Familia, was started before his death in 1926 and is expected to take 100 years to finish (work is still going now, and doesn't look like stopping any time soon). Words really don't do his work justice- check out the pics to see what I mean.

Avoiding the more touristy places (ie anywhere with an English menu) on Gran Via, we stumbled across a little restaurant with the nondescript name Cocina Tipica (typical cooking), where the waitress didn't even try to speak English to us. She was patient, and let us stumble along merrily with our Spanish. The biggets shock, especially after a week in France, was the prices. We even had to ask (to the waitress' amusement) if the wine list was written by the glass, or by the bottle, as there were prices as low as €5 which wouldn't even get you a glass of wine anywhere in Paris. Turns out it was by the bottle, so decided on a 1999 Reserve Rioja which was a bargain (and delicious too!) We had the same confusion with the food menu, trying to work out if they were reasonable tapas prices, or riduculously cheap meals. We figured they had to be tapas prices and ordered all the local delicacies we could- gazpacho, patatas bravas, calamares, bacalao (salted fish), tortilla de gambas, flan and crema catalana. As you can see from the pics, the table was close to overflowing with food, and by the end, so were we! Between our aching legs, and full stomachs we waddled the short distance back to the hotel and collapsed in a heap to rest up for our next day in Montserrat, which is all in the next post

K&B

Montserrat, Spain @ Montserrat, Spain

2008-07-11T11:00:40.000Z

We were initially worried about "sacrificing" a day in Barcelona to travel into the mountains to visit Montserrat, but the panoramic vistas that we were looking forward to far more than made up for anything the city could have offered!!

Montserrat is the name of a jagged ("serrated") mountain range an hour-or-so's journey from the city, where a once secluded hermitage monastery has been converted into a pilgrim/ tourist destination. Suffice it to say that our primary interest in the areas was not the devout variety.

We took the cremallera ("zipper") rack railway to the monastery and visitor centre, taking twenty minutes to wind up the rugged hill, and, although disappointed that we couldn't take very clear photos through the window, we nevertheless were amazed by the views over the township and river Llobregat below.

Little did we know that this was the least of it! We wasted no time in the monastery/ hotel/ visitor centre/ audiovisual exhibit nestled among the folds of rock, and took the funicular cable railway up an incredibly steep incline to the summit. Once we arrived... The photos really do speak for themselves. When we get back home and have the software (Dad?), we've got a few GB of breathtaking panoramic images to stitch together. One view that we obviously couldn't quite reach, but is well worth seeing, is the aerial.

We took an hour or so hiking (I know, who are we, and what have we done with the real us?!) around the mountainside with literally a 360 degree unimpeded view over the Pyrenees and almost to the Mediterranean sea. Just awesome!!

There was a lesser (abandoned) single-room hermitage named for San Joan right on the top of the mountain, as well as precariously ancient bridges and eroded brick walls built into the very rock. It was an absolutely amazing day, and it has even [we'll see...] inspired B to go bushwalking/ hiking more often when we get home!

If you're anywhere near Barcelona any time in the future, make sure you make time for Montserrat. Don't skimp on the Gaudí to get here, but it's absolutely worth the trip. The very definition of unique.

K&B

Valencia, Spain @ Valencia, Spain

2008-07-12T19:14:46.000Z

Madrid, Spain @ Madrid, Spain

2008-07-13T19:16:11.000Z

The moment of truth! @ City of Westminster, United Kingdom

2008-07-16T14:00:52.000Z

Restaurant Gordon Ramsay @ Chelsea, United Kingdom

2008-07-16T22:00:41.000Z

There... and back again. @ Changi Village, Singapore

2008-07-19T07:44:38.000Z