Days 23 to 25. Prague, Bratislava and Budapest

Day 23 - Back to Prague

We left Berlin on the mid morning train for the 4 hour journey back to Prague. Now if you remember from Day 21 some waitress left me with a bad taste about Prague. This wasn't to be repeated. Also we arrived in good weather and found the hotel ok. Note to self: this blog will get old really fast if i have to keep explaining how we get from train station to hotel. Anyway this time I got to see what I always wanted to and found the Charles Bridge. Then to the square and always money conscious it was beer sat on the curb and waited for the hourly bells and trumpets to sound what I assume is the Czech anthem. Many were sat on the curb also so we didn't look like homeless. Well not really. Anyway Prague is well documented as a city. We didn't find anything new so after a few drinks we settled in and woke late to get the train to Bratislava.

Day 24 - To Bratislava

You know when you forget old problems and see new ones, well the heat on the train was immense and the air conditioning wasn't functioning. We left the cabin door open but the hallway of the train was crowded. Nevermind about this, after all the rain in Britain its too early to complain about heat. Two cabins down some drunk slavs were singing songs and it made the journey seem so east european. It was an uncomfortable but enjoyable trip.

On exiting at Bratislava I didn't know what to expect. Realistically I haven't heard it come up as a common long weekend trip like Budapest, Prague and Krakow. I would also lie if the film Hostel didn't slightly dance in the back of my mind. Actually when we arrived there were no wayward children throwing stones (unlike back in the UK). No corrupt badly shaven police officers driving beaten up Lada cars. And no one I thought for a minute would persuade me into a vulnerable situation and sell me to torture slavery. Actually what I saw was a quite touristy town. I saw a gang of Brit lads. Always noticeable for the bed-head which must accompany lads weekends away. And of course a table of pints of beer, and singing popular music badly. However, they were in the minority. The first thing that greets you on leaving the train station is that this place looks a little poorer than Prague main station. A little more dusty. A little fewer Burger Kings etc than other European Stations. Well make that no Burger Kings or anything like that. Just sandwich places and small bars selling cans of lager and faded coca cola signs. Middle-aged men in the bars drinking cans of beer and smoking cigarettes that I'm guessing are not the 'light tar' variety. The old town was much different. Overpriced restaurants in my view, but then everything is overpriced with our budget. Still we found a backpackers place and got a free shot of something, which is supposed to be similar to gin. It had an effect of valium on me and I was pleasantly numb with that and the Kozel beer.

Day 25 - Budapest
The journey from Budapest to Bratislava was possibly the nicest train journey yet by way of scenery. I have a few more journeys yet, and even going by some recent ones that may be a big claim (Munich to Fussen jumps out). The fields and long roads with Skodas speeding along in the wind. When the train crosses the Slovakian / Hungarian border at a small station call Szob (not sure how you pronounce that) the flat countryside continues for a few minutes before you meet with the Danube and the train then follows the river to Budapest. On the way the landscape phases from Central European to a tad Greek or Mediterenean, but a bit more greener before you meet up with the power stations which the ex-soviet nations love to show off, which wind past the attractive suburbs of Budapest and into the main station. I want to tell you about the debacle with getting the shitty room we have now, but I think I'm resigned to limit postings on arrival at hotels. Lets say we were a bit scammed, I'm not happy with it at all, but thats travelling. It doesn't always go your way. Tomorrow, we are off swimming in Budapest. I'm looking forward to that, but for now good night.

Day 22 - To Berlin

At this moment it is 10:45am and we are over an hour into our 4 hour journey to Berlin. Looking out the window I see more factories and soviet apartment blocks and I kind of like it. There is a soul and a story that comes out of poverty or industrialism. I think we are approaching the Czech/German border. Our journey will take us through Dresden, that once beautiful city destroyed by the British as revenge for Coventry. Then arriving in Berlin for about 3:15pm. Our directions to hostel look precise and German. They are long and any deviation or attempt at Ad Hoc will be punished with stress and domestics. With one night in Berlin we have to take advantage of the city. Berlin is a city I've never visited but feel is a vague part of me. My mother served in the army in Berlin after the war as part of the British presence I guess. A friend of hers was murdered in Berlin and that had an effect on her in my early childhood. She also undertook the risky task of taking children to see relatives stuck behind in East Berlin, and told us stories of how The Stazi followed her and made this practise discontinue. I have a bad or almost non-existant relationship with my mother. However, her stories of Berlin and Germany fill me with some pride in the woman. For me no other city more than Berlin is where the West met East during the cold war and The Wall was more than bricks and cables and dogs, it was more symbolic. It also reminds us that the war ending is only a recent thing. When Germany reunified in 1990, WW2 ended properly. Because up to this point there was always a NATO and Warsaw Pact presence. When both sides pulled out they left Germany properly to itself and completely demilitarised. WW2 was actually from 1939 to 1990, quite thought provoking. Also I'm hoping to see my admiration of West Germany which absorbed its Eastern Lander, and worked hard to ensure their quality of life and wages came up to the high level of their Western counterparts. The fact Germany seems to be achieving this and still maintaining its position as the largest economy in Europe and stabiliser of Europe boosts my admiration even further. It makes me think Angela Merkel (Germany's first female and East German Chancellor) should have the final word on Europe, and the toff in Downing Street should just sit down and listen.

Arrival in Berlin

Its now 9:45pm here in Berlin and I've had a good look around the city and I love it. I don't know what to add which is before the fact, as it measured up in many ways and confirmed what I expected. Our hostel deserves a shout out. It's Plus Hostel Berlin. The same chain we've used in Florence and Prague. However, this is best and I would say the room we have to ourselves is better than hotels I've paid of £100 for, and the cost was £32. The building is situated in the Eastern part of the city and as such appears to be an old soviet style office block with has been reused as a hostel.

Berlin is a sprawling city and you can see from where we are the difference the wall made. One side the western side is traditional and European and the Eastern side under Soviet control up until 1990 has been a focus of new trendy bars to replace the drab of life just inside the iron curtain.

Essentially the Berlin wall does dominate the cities past and future, but its still not bigger than Berlin. Obviously we visited the wall, and the Brandenburg Gate (BG) and Check Point Charlie (CPC), so lets get that out the way. The Brandenburg Gate and CPC are quite excellent monuments, as major junctions in the oversight of the four way devision of Berlin up until 1990. However, a walk following the route of the former wall from BG to CPC throws up some thought provoking sights. Keeping west of the wall from BG and walking towards Potsdamer Platz you first come across an array of some 2000 large bricks, this amazing small landscape is a memorial to the murdered Jews of Europe. For some reason the size of the blocks and the area seems to fittingly magnify the injustice of the holocaust. Keep on walking and by Potsdamer Place you see your first remains of the wall in any great size. A good quick picture stop but not the best. The best view of the wall comes when you left on Streseman and then a right on Neiderkirchherst to a long stretch of wall and bunkers. Alongside this wall is The Topography of Terrors. As you slowly walk from left to right reading the story of the beginning of the nazi party to their seizing goverment to grabbing every power which should be seperated to, well stop something like the nazis happening. To filling everyones minds with propaganda. To the final days when the Soviets took Berlin and in retaliation for years of being called subhuman and worthless by nazi retoric, decided to treat German citizens in the same way. It is also fitting that Neiderkirchherst Strasse where they built this prominent chunk of wall was also a prominent strasse for the nazis during their processions. Its at time like these that I want to be balanced about the freedoms or lack of freedoms by the former East Germans.  I'm a firm believer in the free market, and growing up under a free system I have grown comfortable that I can say call David Cameron a useless cock here on this public website and noone will arrest me. This is something that the East Germans never had. However, as communism is frought with contradictions, most criticisms of socialist regimes are a lso covered in inconsistencies and hypocracy. Therefore, I'm slow to be critical of the Soviet regime for all its downfalls. Because the Russian Revolution was the biggest economic experiment and probably the last of its significance to appear again. The East Germans and Eastern Europeans suffered but we benefitted at their expense, and let me explain this. Would the post war welfare reforms of 1947 in the UK have happened if there wasn't one eye to the east thinking we need to give the working classes something before they storm our palaces? Likewise the New Deal in the USA. Everything we working classes have is because our governments looked east and saw the power the workers possessed if only they had the guts and wit to use it as they did in Russia. The problem of course with equality is that humans want to be better than eachother not equal. You have to reduce freedom to keep things equal. In a way I'm sad communism failed in Eastern Europe as had it thrived the freedoms would have come back naturally, or people will be like the Chinese and be intelligent enough to notice that if freedom is all about criticising government and playing on facebook, then how bloody shallow. So the wall was a place of regret for me. It was also an intimidating place which leads me to admire my mother for smuggling children to see their parents over the wall, good for her. Going back to communism, it didn't work in Europe. However, looking back to 2008 it seems capitalism failed in Europe and the west also, whereas communism thrived in China.

Tomorrow back to Prague and start of the route all the way down to Istanbul. My excitement is back.

Day 21 - Prague for brief while

I think that change of scenery I wanted arrived sooner than usual, as the arrival into the Czech Republic brought a little something new. Again this is the new Europe and the only thing that told us we  crossed the former 'iron curtain' was a town called Berclav which sounded more Slavik than Germanic. Also we noticed the train guard changed to a blue uniform and spoke in what was probably Czech. The landscape in our 3 hour journey to Prague changed a little from the flat lands of Austria to a more wooded / forested picture. When we noticed buildings you could occasionally spot the familiar sign of soviet architecture of the apartment blocks and square fabricated concrete, which we sneer at now but forget how quickly this housed people. In all you realised you had come somewhere new. I also had a quick memory flash. I think from reading news events recently Czech, like Britain is not part of the Eurozone and quickly set about getting some idea what the deal is with money which I remembered to be Czech Krony. I have this neat little app which I like to look at now and again which gives detail of countries, in it I found that as of 2010 one US Dollar equals KCZ 19. This was vague but the best we had to go on. 

On arrival at Prague station we only had EUR30 on us so needed some local cash. But how much. "Oh get out 40" Sarah said. "That may only be $2 hun". From there we went the long way round and looked into a shop and saw a drink for KCZ 40 and decided that a drink would cost about £1 so we decided we needed to draw out about KCZ 1000. On approaching the ATM, we noticed an exchange rate which meant our maths was pretty good, and this would have put £35 in our pocket. From there we had to get to our hostel which was by no means central. As with all things it seems easy on paper and internet. But internet doesn't show you complicated ticket machines. My first little moan about Czech is for a country that has such high denominations of currency, a ticket machine accepting notes would be a fantastic idea, instead of breaking down KCZ 100, or in our case a KCZ 1000 as the ATM gave me. I'm going to extend this moan a bit. Now Britain has a £50 note, but never has an ATM ever given one out. I've handled £50 notes rately in my life, and most notably not since 2006 when I my landlord wanted his £850 a month rent in cash. The banks don't give them out as the are a pain in the arse to get rid of. Why then has every ATM in Europe given me EUR50 notes or on one occassion a EUR100. Moan ended. Anyway I've just noted how that moan has overly padded out this paragraph and lets just say we successfully negotiated the 3 line underground of Prague and the 1 stop tram ride to the hostel and got our room. Time to check out the city.

The time was probably about 7ish when we headed out, and found our way into Central Prague. I wanted to see one thing only. A sort of bucket list - Charles Bridge. We took the tube (does anyone mind if I refer to undergrounds as 'the tube'? the London name for the subway is the clearest and quickest to type) to the stop Mustek and on ascending to the surface we found ourselves on Wencelas Square. I very long rectangly square with a castle at one end which looked magnificent. We then headed towards the old town square through more winding streets until we found the square and what a wonderful little medieval thing it was too. Still I wanted Charles Bridge and I knew I was near. However, our old adversary the rain conspired against us and I only had a hoody. We walked, but it became more dark and miserable. I knew I wasn't far, but I could see this wasn't going to be good so I said, lets get something to eat. I will be returning to Prague on the 26th (or day 23), so seeing it will be my priority. 

We both wanted beer and goulash and found it  in a bistroesque type place in a street just off the old town square. The prices looked right and in we went. Now let me describe the waitress who served us. She was rude little insecure bitch with cheap dyed hair who obviously is effected not only by her ongoing battle with her weight, but resentment that no western men find her interesting enough to bring her to London or New York as they do her prettier friends. We were the victims of her insecurity. Now you know when you aren't sure if you are being snubbed, as its early in the snubbing day? There are a whole room of people to wait on and Chris it isn't all about you. That said the paranoia of being snubbed turned to the reality. Getting her attention through a smile and eye contact was not enough. I had to call her. She took our order in the attitude that we had ruined her day by being customers. When our beers came she bashed them down in anger and knocking Sarahs elbow reasonably hard in the process. The goulash came in a lighter but similar manner. The goulash was great as was the beer, but we were unwelcome for the reason I suspect being our dress, which I'll comment on in a minute. The crowning turd in the waterpipe for me proved to be when she served a bottle of wine to a nearby table and plonked the tray with garbage on ours. I glaired at her, and the manager and this led him to take it off I think. I asked for the bill and wouldn't even consider giving a tip. But withholding a tip isn't enough. I left a tip of 3p, yes 3 British Pence. She said goodbye and thankyou as we left, I ignored her. My comment on the attire issue. We are wearing travelling clothes. My hair is longer and my face is stubbly. It may also be clear that we weren't going to do the 3 courses and bottle of wine (although even if we were, she would have probably put us off). If we aren't dressed appropriately for a place, then don't let us in. I'm a big boy who has gone out clubbing and not felt insulted for being denied entry due to wearing trainers. If however you notice our clothes and continue to allow us entry and serve us, then serve us as equally as you serve those wearing the fake kashmir. What I saw was an absolute lack of class and manners, which offends this Englishman. I'm not hearing this "oh they are different in eastern europe". If they are so different go back to ploughing your field with your goverment owned tractor. You welcome Prague to tourism, act like you want them to stay, because we can just as easily go to Budapest, where I remember waitresses to be more than friendly. Then again, I ate in one place and I'm being very childish and immature if this waitress should colour all of Prague for me, and I won't let it. I will be returning in 2 days and I promise a more balanced and less angry review, no matter how well I'm served goulash.

Day 21 - Out of Austria

I'm currently sat on the 12:33 train from Vienna to Prague. We are leaving Austria and about to claim another flag. This morning we rose unnecessarily early as we ended up catching a much later train than the intended 9:33am. We looked on the map for the station Wien Meidling. When we got there after a 20 minute walk it appeared the train station just plain didn't exist. This was confusing as I double checked the timetable on my phone and there it was. I googlemapped it and here we were but the train station was nowhere. Knowing our searching was going to take us past 9:33am we resigned ourselves to the midday train. We caught the underground back to Westbanhoff Station where we came into Vienna which looked like a large one. Asking instructions at the ticket hall it seems all Prague trains left from this ghost station. Anyway by way of help for future travellers. Wien Meidling is Philiadelphiabrucke on the map. Not at all helpful I'm afraid. Armed with that advice we effortlessly made the train and here I am sat down in a cosy cabin having just crossed The Danube on a clear sunny day.

Anyway as has seemed to be a pattern I'm leaving another EU state and I feel I must summarise the culture the lifestyle the people in either a negative and positive way. Truth be told I can't. Salzburg was, well a lovely city nestled in the Alps, but so are loads in Bavaria. Vienna looked a large spralling city, which big roads. To my eyes, similar to Budapest. You can see Vienna was a city of once huge importance, being the primary capital in the Austro-Hungarian Empire. You can see it now is a seat of government. That said I don't know what I took away with me from Austria. Sarah saw that we had definately made it east, but I couldn't see it really. The transport still seemed Western European. I cannot see the difference between Austrian and Bavarian culture, but maybe this is all my naivity. Being tired and scared of spending in what is obviously an expensive city, we didn't do much more than walk around and show vague interest at what were amazing buildings. Again it is just me. There is much more to Austria as an Empire, but I've never been bothered to read up on it. When I studied history at uni, I noticed looking into the Hapsburgs meant looking into Slavik politics, taking in Croatia and Serbia etc, and it was a can of worms I didn't want to open. I prefered to the easy points won in a history and politics degree by analysing Hitler and fascism. Yes I know Hitler was from Austria. "You can't go wrong with Hitler" was the advice when swotting up on my European history. So true, but now I wish I had learnt more about the Hapsburgs, as I feel I've missed out on something. Then again, if someone would tell me what is so spectacularly Austrian that I missed out on. Food, beer, anything? I don't want to be down on any country in Europe, coming from the bland culture of the UK. However, Austria to me is like Canada. Not harmful, not unattractive. Seemingly sat as funny shaped land-locked country in the middle of Europe minding its own business. Maybe that is an attractive trait.

My indifference on Austria is becoming a concern, because maybe it isn't Austria at all. Today it's been 3 weeks on mainland Europe. I'm sort of wondering what is new. What will Prague, Budapest and Sofia offer me? Town Squares and pretty churches and dome shaped cathedrals. I'm wondering if I've seen it all. Maybe this view will present me with a surprise. Really I'm hankering for a change of scenery. Turkey will offer me this no doubt, but that is a week away I think. I really am hankering to spend a whole week in a single place. I travel to chill and its been non-stop thinking about how to move on. Arrive at a place, find wifi, book hostels in the new place. Find a station, reserve seats. Explore new a city, gaze through windows at restaurants out of our price range. Buy some food, always too expensive. Feel stressed, have a drink, feel guilty that we had that drink. This wasn't the travelling I remembered where I just chilled and met people, made memories and basically didn't think much about the next destination until it seemed a good time to move on. Then again I'm on a train now for a good 4 more hours, this is a time to relax as Sarah is doing now. A time I could be staring out the window and taking in Europe and realising that this moment may not come back for the rest of my life.

I think I wanted this blog to be an honest reflection of my time, and I must say things can't be upbeat all the time. I always knew this Europe itinerary was crowded and would have been tiring. It seems 3 weeks in and I am feeling the effects. This manifest itself yesterday when I was climbing some steps near the river and it seemed my legs just wanted to stop, like they were rebelling, going on strike. We are walking miles each day and usually with some weight on, this will take a toll. On the plus side, the Interrail tickets we bought have been put to good use, and I'm thankful for that. I also am thankful that we will complete this journey through. A journey which will have taken us from Paris to Istanbul. A journey in mileage I intend to calculate next time I am online.

Something else about travelling which I think is good for the soul and good as validation of my motto; "don't make your happiness reliant on things that are too complicated to obtain". In respect of this, I found things that make me happy are little things. Clean clothes for example make everything seem better. Yesterday I managed to source some anti-perspirant (I'm allergic to most deodrants, so even finding them in UK and English speaking countries isn't always easy), and after going without for a week, the shower yesterday felt so special as I got to spray anti-perspirant after I was done. On the platform waiting for the train, I had a loaded salad and fresh fruit for afters which was heavenly. It feels I gave my gut what it was begging for, to copy a Yakult advert back in the UK. So it's the little things that mean so much.

I look out the window again and I'm seeing what Sarah has just commented on. It's looks so flat like she and I remember her home state of Illinois, USA. I guess I've just had that change of scenery. Flatness, some lakes and green fields interupted by yellow flowers. It seems as Austria winds north it moves away from the Alpines where the Vonn Trapps cavorted and turns into a land of big sky as it winds its way to area of former communism. Flat can sometimes be viewed as dull, but I disagree. When I first saw the vast flatness of Illinois, I thought, what a beautiful country. I think I see that now. There doesn't have to be an ocean,  hill or mountain to form a perfect landscape.

I'm reading back over this and seeing this post as signs that I am obviously tired. I am also seeing signs that I see the rewards in all of this. As always I'm a lucky person to have travelled as much as I have already and to continue this when most my age are fretting over mortgages and children makes me even more lucky. A work colleague said "what will happen if America is rubbish and you don't like it". I replied "hopefully Sarah and I will save some more money and travel again". She replied "you can't travel all your life". I didn't reply, because I can't agree with that.

Travelling - so far

Being 18 days in I want to have a look at how travelling or backpacking is. Before I go further I need to say that if there was a choice between this and being back in and office or a package tour, you know my choice. However I just want to work out the pros and cons and discuss the reality of this ordeal.

Firstly backpacking is tiring and disorientating and draining on your brain cells. We tend to stay in places no more than 2 days so every day or so we are I a new city, sometimes new country with a new transport system to work out. This can be so hard in heat or rain with 20kg strapped around you. When you arrive you want to explore and in a short time you try to find out what things cost and the cheapest way of feeding yourself. As we are pretty clued up people we tend to work it out within a few hours of moving on.

Eating is always something of concern. As budget is a consideration we tend to get street food which is often low on fresh produce. I've counter-acted this the best way I can. In France I had fish for a change. In Italy tried to get salads. Maybe a good point about eating is the calorie intake is probably lower than back in real life. Mainly because we snack and not have full meals. Our tea in Italy would be a slice of pizza for example, not healthy but that's all. Also our calorie output has increased as we probably walk at least an hour a day minimum. So on balance we eat less and exercise more. We just need to work on eating the right things. Furthermore, I personally found I was bad on drinking water back in reality whereas out here on the road I consume quite a bit. Result? Well I don't see it but I feel a little looser on my belt. I'm not dying on the big climbs like up to neuschwanstein yesterday.

Relationship. We are in each others faces 24/7 and we both like our space. I think we do ok and rows are minimal. Maybe we are both making an effort. That said occassional moments of space are great. My morning in Florence and at the moment when I am down here typing this and Sarah is upstairs in the dorm doing something. All that said, the stressful times we snap at eachother and we have to stop doing that.

Dreams; last time I went travelling in 2004 I had dreams that I popped back home quickly. I don't really have them now which possibly means I think very little of my old life in Britain. This is food as I feared I was suppressing something.

Boredom: this is tricky thing as we are technically and actually homeless. This shows itself when we fill time. Restaurants and cafes and bars cost money so we can't just sit in them when we want to fill time. We fill time by wandering. This can feel uncomfortable sometimes. Having nowhere in the world where you can veg on a sofa and just chill can Lear you feeling lost. A drunk came up to us in the street in Salzburg and asked what we do. I said I don't have a job. He asked where I live and I said "the world". In reality my passport is British and there is where I'd get deported to, but even so I feel globally homeless. When I reflect on that I actually like it in all honesty.

The day before yesterday. Sarah was giving me a heads-up on the reality of living in America. I think I'm aware that life isn't a breeze no matter where you live, but it's always good to hear this wisdom. Anyway it occurred to me throughout the conversation that I was a bit indifferent. America is so far away it doesn't register anymore. I won't enter the USA before winter 2013 even if things go well. There is so much that can happen before then.

Hostels: I used to love them and now I'm just ok with them. I guess ive become more used to hotels and sharing rooms is weird again. In the same way it would have felt weird to have a room to myself when I travelled on my own in the past. I also realise how old I am now. I no longer have as much in common with my room sharers as before. I'm also noticing how much electric sockets are like gold dust. We are all travelling with iPhones and laptops and each stop we look for power and wifi. Like we always used to source an internet cafe in 2004 and 2002. Before then I think we just wrote in journals and actually travelled. We shared addresses and telephone numbers and not facebook pages. I think I'm nostalgic for that. I think technology has ruined backpacking a bit. Says he typing on his netbook after finding a wifi hotspot.

This is a great life and beyond the reach of many, especially at my age. I am incredibly lucky. This is totally my thing. I have no known gypsy in my blood, if I did it would explain why I feel at home on the road. How I get stressed by the uncomfortable elements of travel yet simultaneously thrive on them, and feel the experience would be empty without an uncomfortable train journey or being lost in a strange and ugly city. Deep down I am both scared and excited beyond belief at the thought of China, whom a recent travel companion described as a mess communication wise. Somehow we will feed ourselves and move around and find a place to sleep..probably. The struggle to do that is the challenge I want to grab by the nuts and twist. I want stories and memories and wisdom, not likes on Facebook.

Day 19 - Salzburg, Austria

Yesterday we arrived at our 4th country. The land of Bruno, Hitler and Joseph Fritzell. Not a good start but also our first city of Salzburg is ofcourse the city of The Sound of Music or the Von Trapps. Now let me tell you about disappointment. I was told as a child that The Sound of Music is a true story, and I believed my lying parents. In reality and lets quote Maria Von Trapp herself here "its (TSOM) is a fabulous story, its just not mine". Lets compare.

Plummer and Andrews lot

The Sound of Music

Maria is a crap nun and ends up being forced as governess to captain von trapp a proud retired naval officer who has no time for kids but is always away on business in Vienna. Maria finds his softer side, teaches the tone deaf kids music and singing. The nazi party try to force Cap VT to become an officer, and being Hollywood he is the only Austrian of the time who hated the Nazi party, so they run away hiking across the Alps to freedom.


The reality.

The actual green card scroungers

Maria was a teacher first, then a nun. She was only required to give music lessons to one of the kids. The nazi party were to blame for a lot of bad things, but not the von trapps singing. Also there is no real evidence that they wanted him back very badly as an officer, certainly he was never forced as the film suggests. In any case Maria and Cap VT married 10 years before the Anchluss (annexation of Austria). He wasn't so much retired from the navy. When the Austro-hungarian empire became reduced to land-locked German Austria he lost his job as navy's are only good for countries near the sea. His money and property was inherited from his first wife. He took the money out of sound British banks one day and put it in Austrian banks which failed. Too proud to work for a living, Maria took it upon herself to make the family professional singers. The house they lived in, was big but due to poverty they lived in a top apartment and rented the rest out to students. Lastly the film ends with the family hiking the Alps to safety. In actuality they hiked as far as the nearest train station and caught a train to Italy, then to Britain then eventually to America. They weren't outcast from Austria in fact they returned there to do a few shows later.

That aside such a lover of the film I was, I couldn't help but try and find the places where they hung out at least in the film. Yesterday I found Mirabell Gardens in the centre where they did the Do Re Mi bit, skipping round the fountains etc. Today we took a bus ride 4km outside the city to Hellbrun Manor which formed part of the film. Where Maria first arrives singing "I have confidence" rings the bell and shakes hands with the butler. I also had a picture took in front of the gazebo, you know the song "you are 16 going on 17....I will be over controlling of you the only way a member of Hitler youth can be" (or something like that). The back garden scenes are a completely different manor. Quite obvious really as the front is shamelessly Orange and the back white.

Getting away from TSOM, Hellbrun Manor is an amazing place with much more to offer. The trick fountains, which should will ensure to get you wet as the art was to spray everyone by surprise in the humour which works so well only in Germany. Also a little walk into the hills within the grounds you come to Steintheater. A theatre made out stone as the German name suggests. An amazing day out.

Tonight it is Sound of Music night at the hostel (why not), so we are to avail ourselves of that and settle a few arguments on location filming with Sarah (I hope). Salzburg for me was all TSOM. However, away from that it is a beautiful city which when sunny (yesterday) the way it sinks in around more snow capped peaks and green hills makes it kind of special. Quite small in size and it appears walking it is easy. Although we reused a bus card by not validating it. A tip when travelling Europe, buy the ticket and don't validate on the bus. When / if confronted play the confused only speak English tourist, although you probably never will be. This is of course dishonest... but so is charging 50c for the toilet.

Day 17 - Fussen and Castles

The day was not a good weather day but that wasnt going to interfere with our plans to at last see Neuschwanstein Castle in the mountains outside Fussen. However let me first describe Fussen.

Fussen is a 2 hour train ride outside of Munich and on approach you see the snow capped Alps, green fields and wooden houses. Basically if you were to google image a picture of Bavaria you'd either get a picture of Fussen or have an instant understanding about it. Colourful small churches, shops in with signs in Gothic writing. You get the idea.

Anyway Friday morning we set off early ish after our breakfasts to walk the supposedly 40min walk to King Ludwigs castles. The journey took longer and the rain came down for occasional brief spells. But no matter being in Bavaria was enough for me. The walk took over an hour before we came to the first of Ludwigs castles, Hohenschwanngau, by Alpsee lake. Straight away you see the obsession with swans, which quite frankly i find weird. We didn't pay to get in, waking round the garden was enough as were the views across the lake. After we'd done that we made our way to Neuschwanstein castle, the castle which inspires all fairy stories. Unfortunately it was under refurbishment so the first view we had was scaffolding. The walk up wasnt for those with a heart condition nor for those who'd just scoffed a large apple strudel. On arrival I was less than pleased really. I know my whinging on tourism must be getting old but this took it to another level. Shunted in like cattle into our organised tour number of 435. The tour guide was below average if you could hear her. Also Neuschwanstein is beautiful but the building has no history behind it as a functioning building. It's design was to look purely to look pretty. King Ludwig himself only stayed 170 days in the castle, after he was moved to an asylum and killed or committed suicide, who knows (or cares). After that effectual end of the line, the place became a museum 6 weeks later. Therefore it has always just been that a museum. I think Neuschwanstein is lovely to look at from far away, even more so without scaffolding, but up close it represents nothing much and I find that a bit hollow.

After Neuschwanstein we took a walk up to this eerie bridge overlooking a waterfall. From there was the best vantage point of overlooking the castle. Then we took a hike back and this was my favourite part of the day as we found ourselves away from the tourists and had the hike pretty much to ourselves. The walk took us all downhill to the ticket shop past waterfalls and pine trees. On reaching the bottom we saw the boring quick route back to Fussen or a walking sign say 25mins to Schwannsee (Swan lake) and 1.5hours to Fussen. So glad Sarah was in agreement to take the longer scenic way back. After reaching Swan Lake we found piers designed for swimming off in warmer weather. For a brief second or two I considered stripping to boxers and jumping in, however dipping my hand in the lake and feel it literally ache with cold for some minutes after, I considered this a stupid idea and remained clothed.

The walk back was pretty much all to ourselves. Another brief rainfall timed perfectly with this quaint little cover which Sarah and I huddled under until it passed. From there up some uncomfortably steep hills then down into Fussen. Probably the best hike in a while with the crystal clear lakes and snowy mountain back drop.

That was Fussen, next over the border to Salzburg. My recurring cold says wouldn't an early exit to istanbul be an idea and chill there cheaply for a few weeks ? However, my eyes see the mountains out this train window and I need to say goodbye to all of Europe before I leave it. One thing I've noted when I look on my passport. I'm not even slightly proud of the British Citizen bit, but the EU Citizen bit makes me immensely proud that I am part of this. I can (with considerable effort) legally live here now, and while I'm not taking this offer up, I'm still happy the offer is there. I never want to hear the sneering British term "euro trash" again. Even if I say it!

Day 16 - Night train to Munich

Lets get my regret out there straight away. I regret not getting a bed on the overnight to Munich from Venice. We were woken on 6 occasions, twice for passports (what happened to the Schengen Area?) and 4 times for tickets. That aside I believe I bagged about 5 separate mini sleeps before we arrived in Munich at 7am. Arriving so early we wandered the city for coffee and cakes after finding a handy bag lock-up. Then our first trip was to Dachau concentration camp. I'm not sure what I could have gained by this as with 3 years studying history, I'm not sure what there was left to learn except fresh horrors. I also have sadly become numb to the pictures of dead bodies. Even so to walk through the gates with Arbeit Mach Frei, giving the prisoners some hope is a huge cruelty in itself. This may have been a fresh wound for me about the Nazi treatment of all the prisoners, but especially the Jews. The Nazis somehow gave an air of fair play in that if you played by the harsh rules, you'd be free, when in reality they had no intention of making good on that vague promise. The second fresh wound for me was seeing the camp in such proximity to normal Germans doing normal Germany things. I'm put in mind of the saying "all it needs for evil to prosper is for good men to do nothing". I think the biggest crime is that the bulk of Germany did nothing. A lot more could have been done if the propaganda had not been bought into. It made me stronger in my determination that my view on Israel's treatment of the Palestinians is like the very early stages of the Nazi party.The stage where they wouldn't allow Jews to own businesses, allow bullying. Have a seperate legal system for them. These were the seeds of what grew out of control. I think that unless I shout about it where I can, make a point of not buying Israels products, then I'm doing my bit of enabling. What is also frightening is that we have not really learnt our lesson as a people. We have sat back and not bothered to understand the genocides of this world. The US cause of civil rights abuses in Chile, Nicaragua and Argentina. The Rwandan, Cambodian and Yugoslavian genocides. That was in the 70s, 80s and 90s, think of something more up to date. I think of how we demonise Islam. Openly confuse Islamic fundamentalism with Terrorism committed in the name of Islam. Questioning for a moment the right for a mosque to be built in Times Square. Nodding in agreement at the drunk so called 'common sense' jibberish of the BNP and the EDL. While these attitudes continue, and we keep letting Israel commit the acts it does, we have learnt nothing from the holocaust. That is what I took from Dachau.

Moving on from that deep paragraph as only a paragraph of Dachau could be. We next took to train to the Olympic Stadium in Munich. A bit of a personal thing for me as it was here 34 years ago which was part of my first trip abroad. I vaguely remember bits of it, but mostly I remembered the stadium that looks like a sort of tent. The walk through the park in the warm weather was relaxing. After that it was back to Munich station to catch the 15:51 to Fussen to the Hostel which was Sarah's first. Some beer and a sandwich near the river in Fussen ended the day nicely.

Return to Munich 34 years later

Day 15 - Venice and goodbye Italy

I am propping my netbook on my lap at this moment slightly wet and cold and uncomfortably sat on a hard seat at Venice Station. I have another 1 hour and 20mins to kill before we board the overnight train to Italy and say hello to our third country of Germany.

I have nothing new to say on Venice, it was the same sunny day but we largely spent it killing time. 12 hours ago we left the hotel with our bags stored there and we walked the attractive streets of Venice. This is the part of travelling which is less than appealing; killing time. We were resigned to spend as little money as possible and therefore this meant that breaks in cafes needed to be kept to a minimum. Now the money waster proved to be toilet breaks. Venice charges EUR1.50 for a visit to their loos, which made me regret the beer I had with my lunch. Lunch was at the 1st quarter. Let me explain, to help time fly a bit more I broke the 12 hours from hotel to train into quarters of 3 hours. 1pm being the end of the 1st quarter, clear now? I was pleased to get what I wanted from when I first knew I was coming to Italy. Spaghetti with cuttlefish ink. I've had the paella equivalent in Spain, and new the flavour I was hoping for. Even though we had this meal in a restaurant which has photographs for menus, the taste was amazing as I remember. Although it didnt stain my teeth black as I remember last time. I'm not sure if I'm happy about that or not. Anyway it was a good lunch which took us a 3rd of the way into the 2nd quarter. Walking and stopping in new piazzas was the name of the game, until we thought we'd avail ourselves of Macdonalds free wifi to get some fries and sit down and use a toilet for free. This took us to 5pm and  close to the end of the 2nd quarter. I cannot make this day look exciting no matter how I try. I don't want to mention how it rained come time to pick up our bags in the 3rd quarter as over mentioning the weather is another horrible British trait.

Italy in Summary

Italy is not as tidy and clean as France, but that's what makes it. The place screams culture. Buildings in Britain which I would write off as needing a lick of paint, look somewhat perfect in an Italian Piazza as long as they throw in a big wooden door and a disused fountain. The people aren't so prissy about their language, but for me I still favour the French, sorry. It's like Italians try to hard. Maybe I should stop comparing Italy to France as its not comparing like for like. We didn't really visit the touristy places of France like we did Italy, so I'm going to put France to bed and concentrate on Italy as best I can. Italy is a beautiful country, but its not the pizza and gelato that make it for me. The memories I will take away is the first meal in the historic section of Genoa, not just the meal everything surrounding us at that moment. The guitarist on a piazza in Florence and more importantly the man who sang popular opera on a small square in Venice with an ipod as backing music. His voice perfect, his manner shy and lacking in the confidence he should have had. When I stopped joking with Sarah I felt quite moved. When he finished I went to shake his hand and thank him, as I sincerely thought his voice was beautiful. I hope to hell he never finds fame as he looks perfect where he is. I have a video of him, but I think its better in my memory than off a 5 megapixel iPhone. Anyone who comes to Italy will find something that means something to them. Visiting Venice and Rome and seeing all those things you learnt about in geography will be enjoyable. However, I guarantee this isn't what you will take away with you. Whether it will be that first bite of Italian pizza, or first sip of Chianti. Or the first time someone speaks to you in what I think is the most beautiful language on earth (if only I could learn it). It will be something unique to you that you will take away and it won't be recordable or caught on camera, it will be something that you will turn to one dreary day back in reality which will make you smile.

Day 14 - Florence to Venice

I'm not sure I have the adjectives for this part of the trip, as I think I've overdone the word 'amazing' so I'll try a few other words, but it won't be easy as my vocabulary is limited.

The day started in Florence with Sarah wanting to see the David sculpture at the Uffizi. We had some breaky at a place round the corner from it, but got badly ripped off which I won't dwell on as it led to a conversation on budget and how well we are keeping to it. Probably not that well at all. Once online I will make an effort to see how far off track we are. Anyway it is cultural week in Florence and museums are free. Therefore the queue to see David was round the corner and then some. I really don't see the point in seeing these works of art that are so well known. I can't be one of the average people who queue for hours to get into the Louvre, spend 3 minutes looking at the Mona Lisa then leave. This is what David would have been like. Also in my view its not the most brilliant, its the one by Da Vinci. There are magnificent ones in the covered courtyard in the Piazza Signori. Anyway I was glad when Sarah was also put off by the queue.

Our train left for Venice at noon and a new type of train too with distance and speed on the monitors giving something to look at besides Robinson Crusoe which I am reading on iBooks. It pulled into Venice promptly at 2pm as promised. However, let me first describe entering Venice by train to those who haven't done so. Well you cross on this track with the sea each side and see the city in the distance like a man made Island which it sort of is really. To my mind the journey approaching, helped by the sun and the blue sky reminded me of the Florida  Keys or the Chesapeake area around Maryland. Once we left the station you walk exit and walk down the steps and all the familarity of Venice hits you. The boats and narrow streets are there straight away. For once our 1km walk to the hotel was painless and free from "you should've" or "why didn't you'?" or "Im checking the map, wait". The hotel is a quaint thing off a side street which should have been hard to find but not so. We checked in and wasted no time in exploring. Let me tell you wandering Venice on a warmish sunny day is perfect. I've heard that rainfall, floods or guttering can make the place smelly and unpleasant, but this was no such day. Let me also say that I feared the worse about the cost of food being such a touristy area, however it seems demand has ensured some things are cheap. Pizza and sandwiches can be had for EUR 2.50 to 4.00. A scoop of gelato for EUR 1.50.  With a nice day at bought lunch for 2 for less than EUR 10.00 sitting on the edge of the canals watching the gondolas pass can be every bits as romantic as a meal at a restaurant. If a restaurant meal is needed I did spy the menus and main courses of most the pasta dishes can be had for EUR 8.00. Not frightenly expensive. One course and drink each should come in at less than EUR27.00.

This evening we took a dusk to nighttime walk to see the place lit up. This is by far a better time to see Venice. The boat tours have gone home meaning the street population has reduced to less than a quarter of the day time crowd. You can wander the narrow dimly lit, but I'm assured, safe streets with near solitude. Every now and then you will come across as cozy bar or tavern or pizzaria or gelataria which you may or may not want to enter, or just see it for the ambiance that it is.

Venice is a perfect walking and yes even a budget destination. I determine budget when a city seems to leave you to some control of your spenditure which Venice has done. There is more to see tomorrow. We are catching a 10:50pm overnight train to Munich, Germany tomorrow night. I will miss Italy and next time I blog I will try and summarise it.

Day 12 and 13 Pisa and Florence

Day 12 en route to Florence via Pisa

yes we are all original!!!

We had a 9am train to catch to make it to Pisa for 11am. This is something I pushed for, the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I always remembered looking at it and taking an interest as a boy. The train we borded included the old type carriages with the seperate rooms. On getting to Car 6 and seats 115 and 116, the compartment had been filled with a sleeping family. The gentleman asked where we were going or rather pulled on me and spoke Italian. A train guard was called and we were vindicated that these were our seats. Even though I felt a pang of guilt that we had to make room for a family which looked to be poor and sleeping children had to be moved. Had it been me alone I may have just relinquished and say in the hallway. In any case enough room was found.

Anyway they only had to put up with us for 2 hours as we got off and Pisa. With little trouble we walked the more or less straight line from station to Leaning Tower. When we arrived, guess what; it leaned. What did I expect really.  Almost as interesting as the tower is seeing the hundreds of people posing in a way to look as if they are holding up the tower. Some do it in a half hearted way. Japanese do it in a scientific way, measuring and returning. Others did it so one was pushing over and the other pushing the tower up, and some even pulled a facial expression to match. Mine was half hearted and in two minds as I hate cliche. In any case when I climbed on a fence post to do it I fell and scraped my shin. Not a huge injury with my pride the most battered. After that some spaghetti and beer and on to Florence.
We arrived in Florence at about 3pm and made our way about 1km to the Hostel and settled down our stuff to go exploring. We grabbed a map and walked the piazzas and streets before Sarah's cold took over and we returned. I was still a bit hungry so popped out for a sandwich and ate it on the nearest piazza  street watched for an hour I think.

Day 13 Florence

Piazza Del Signorio

I woke at 8am and for some reason I realised that I hadn't read the news since leaving Britain, and maybe out of sense of duty, as I feel it necessary to be abreast of current affairs in case an interesting conversation  arises with someone, I logged on to BBC News. The first case that jumped out at me was Anders Brievnik the Norwegian terrorist has gone to trial. The man is a terrible person and his inability to show remorse for killing 77 persons, many children, means I hope he gets what he fears, indefinate confinement in a mental institution. However, what jumped out at me is the admiration of all the Norwegians interviewed. Especially those who were survivors or relatives of the deceased. They don't want vengeance, then want justice and the two are not the same. One said and I'm going to quote as best I can without logging on. "He attacked democracy and rule of law, if the rule of law isn't applied then he has won". The people don't want more than the 24 years if thats all the law hands out. This is Norway's 9/11 or 7/7. How this is different from millions cheering when an old man was shot without trial infront of his family as justice. That is my political point of the the day, now onto Florence.

Sarah's cold had really kicked in, but she joined me for coffee and left me alone to explore although I had to arrange the train from Florence to Venice on the 17th, which I did first with no problems or drama. Then I walked through the central Market towards to Duomo. Now as many writers have described Florence, I feel as if anything I say will be flippant or plain crap. So I'll go ahead in that vain and just be me. Florence is the city of Bath on steroids. Everywhere you turn a colourful buliding, an amazing statue. Anyone who knows me, knows I love my history from roughtly 1750 onwards with many many exceptions. The renaissance never really grabbed me. Lets quantify it in my mind. When England was trying to stop Spaniards from invading and Netherlands and Portugal were racing to increase trade roots and con indiginous people into slavery or consumerism, Italy was drawing and carving shit right? That flippant analysis (and no doubt a quick visit to Wikipedia meant my history missed by a century or two) does nothing to take away the fact that I looked up at the city mostly with my jaw dropped. The city was bigger than the tourists snapping away. I happened upon another museum which was about the history of Italy's democracy. The gap in democracy when Mussolini took a pen and scribbled on what there was of a constitution under the kingdom of Italy and changed voting rules to his benefit. The move from Kingdom to republic, and a new constitution. Like Spain and France in a sense, a country that has had to tweak its constitution to arrive at a fair and secure system which provides a decision making machine without dictatorship, and motored by democracy. Something the USA got right it the first go, making them unique (bar a civil war and few amendments).

Florence was very enjoyable and maybe a silent member of my bucket list. That night we found a nice little restaurant and had an enjoyable 1 course meal. Then gelato while watching the most talented street guitarist I've seen and have videoed. If I find a way I will upload it to here, or twitter.

Its now 7:50am on 17th April. I'm downstairs in the Hostel common room typing this while Sarah sleeps. Her coughing last night means she still isn't fit. She spent most of yesterday in her room, so I think she wants to see more of Florence today to compensate. Me I'm happy to move on to Venice. After that, I must say Italy I've experienced you, thanks for everything, but I'm looking forward to Germany and the more rustic travel of Eastern Europe and Turkey.

Day 10 and 11. Ventimiglia, Genoa and Cinque Terra

Day 10.

After 2 hours of repetitious beautiful housing dotting the coast, the train suddenly crossed a sorry looking bridge and ducked under a scruffy looking motorway. This is the new Europe and we had passed from France into Italy. No passport, just entry into a seperate state with a seperate President etc and importantly a seperate language. Ventimiglia has a horrible looking train station that is obviously a relick of when it had some importance when it had the duty of processing those entering the country. Now the government function has gone it seems to be just an oversized mostly unused station. On departure from the train we were not ambitious as to what we would come across in the old border town. For a start the train from France had no working loos in one carriage so a third of the train rushed to use the public WC at the station. Good news there was no call for 50c like in France. Bad news a Turkish toilet which I've never liked. With fear that this blog turns too far south, I hate the squatting and aiming to ensure that what you need to get rid of lands in the hole and not in the back of youjr trousers. Good news that never happened, I'm always too careful. Bad news the working flush was far too powerful and sent water and faecal matter hurling across the floor missing me and my bag mercifully. My first taste of Italy, but it got better really fast.

The beach at Ventimiglia

We noticed that there was a bit more to VM than we at first feared, and a row of shops and a market was there to entertain us for the 2 hours until the train took us to Genoa. Hungry (a common feature) we looked for food and found some pizza for EUR 2.50 or thereabouts. Feeding ourselves for less than a fiver felt great after France. Also the plain Margherita pizza was perfect even if it was reheated crap. The trick was the tomato sauce not the cheese. So sweet, and the dough so bouncy. We had another later.  We killed the time relaxing on the beach, and looking to the waves and for me just glancing to my left and being amazed as I always am by borders. France has the one of the oldest continuous borders in Europe (if you forget the 5 years Hitler played up), and to see that little river as the difference between two old kingdoms and now two republics fascinates me. Then again I was brought up on an island.


We arrived in Genoa about 5:10pm and found our way with little trouble to the hotel. Sarah found an amazing hostel that appears more like an old office block with old style lift etc. Inside the hostel is on old apartment and the room is pretty big, with a courtyard outside. We wandered the city for a bit, but we didn't become enamored until we reached the historic section of winding streets into obscure Piazzas. We found a place and maybe encouraged by cost, but also by the outside feel we decided to stay for some pasta. My tagelini was perfection on a plate, with the just oily enough pasta without being greasy and again the sweet tomato. Sarah's pesto lasagna was also pretty good when she offered me a bite. Washed down with Birra Moretti I was more than happy. We wandered the streets some more and found the smells of a German market with sausage and beer on offer, which I didn't make use of. After that we became a little lost, but found our way back with a little help and a gelatto for Sarah. That night I at last got a great nights sleep.

Day 11 - Cinque Terra

some small town on the Cinque Terra

Today we took the 2 hour train journey to Monterossa and took the hike joining the villages dotting the Cinque Terra. The first leg was probably the hardest but also the most rewarding in views. The coastal walk between Monterossa and Vernazza occassionally wandering away from the seaview slightly and into vineyards, is breath taking. I say this even with the steps that seemed to rise forever and the weather which was less than agreeable. Part of the walk was closed off so we caught a train from somewhere to somewhere and walked another leg called the Dell Amore. The walk took us through a tunnel which offered the chance of legal graffitti. I made a comment of me and Sarah and a comment for Danielle and the family. The finishing point was the Riomaggiore (probably) and from there we caught the train back to Genoa at 5:20pm-ish. On the way back Sarahs cold hit her and she cancelled our date with beer and sausage in little-germany. She was fine with me going alone, but my head was also pounding a bit. We had takeaway from Pastaway, a place I found near the hotel. Sarah had something spinachy and me some kind of tart/pie thing with ricotta cheese, oh and a couple of bottles of Birra Moretti. Quite and exhausting day, and looking forward to tomorrow and seeing the Leaning Tower of Pisa for the first time. Its touristy and tacky I know, but its something I've always wanted to see since a boy. I know Easyjet...blah blah blah. Sarah is moaning with her cold, so I better close this up.

Days 5 to 10. Carcassonne to Ventimiglia

Day 5

I really wish the sleep in the hotel at EUR 65 would have been value for money, unfortunately the cusp of a cold I had and still have at going to press makes sleep patchy. Nevermind all is good still and I'm still having a ruddy good time.

We scheduled ourselves to catch the 12:56 train from Carcassonne on Sunday 8th April. This gave us time for breakfast and another walk around the big castle thingy. The weather held out as far as rain was concerned until arrival at the Gare to catch the train to Narbonne, which turned out to be a coach replacement. I am pretty strong in my determination not to ask Parlez vous Anglais, and try to start all conversations in French out of respect for the fact that the French are defensive about their language. Also I have that traveller / tourist distinction that I don't want to this the whole world is out to change its ways because I want to go on holiday. In any event if they can speak English and are frustrated by my poor French then they can switch over and we can converse in English guilt free. The trick I found at the station in Carcassonne is to ask questions which only need a yes or no answer.  The prochain autobus to
ok us to Narbonne where we picked up a train to Montpellier. The campsite was theoretically 1.5 hours walk away from central Montpellier. However, frustration at not being able to find the road starting the directions led me storming to a taxi rank and paying EUR 25 to take us to the campsite. The Montpellier campsite was remote from anything and even more so on a Sunday. Luckily we met a Canadian couple who camped next to us and joined us for dinner and beers at the campsite restaurant. They are taking in a car moreless the same journey we are so we may meet up with them again. The following day, Monday they said they were off to Arles as we were. However, despite our shameless hints, repeating twice that we were going that way in the morning the offer of a lift never materialised.

Day 6 - Arles

celebrating something in Arles

We said goodbye to the Canadians, good luck and bon voyage. We left our tent for the journey into Montpellier and onto Arles. The walk from the only tram stop I could see on my googlemaps was a fair walk and with that and the tram in the journey took 2 hours. We caught a noon train to Arles and found a wonderful place there. The whole town was out in celebration of something. A fairground was erected and every town square was filled with table of wine bottles and the only noticable item on the menu, Paella. I'm thinking this was some sort of Spanish appreciation day, with a town square performing latino music with salsa-esque dancing to it. Other highlights beyond the southern european type dining, was a Roman amphitheatre of impressive size. My untrained eye says it has little interference from modern plaster and concrete, but I could be wrong. However, boo-hiss its modern use seems mostly for bullfighting. No we didn't get lost and cross the Franco-Spanish border.

What did I dislike? It seemed that being British (wearing a superman t-shirt) left me pegged as whenever I sat down I'd only want to drink and not eat. This was ofcourse true in this case, while I resent to prejudice. They probably have learnt well not to sell Brits beer less they start singing racist songs, throwing tables and reminding the French of how much they owe Britain from the war. A nasty little-englander trait of which my thirst was the innocent victim. In the end a seat was found and a cool glass of stella and red wine for the lady led us to relax and people watch. Including watching a table of French, singing, drinking wine, shouting at strangers, and saying 'Ole' repetitively, convinced the 19th time was funnier than the 18th. Leads me to conclude, no matter where you were born, drunks are wankers. Just not so much injury or involvement of police as the Brits. We left Arles about 6pm and made way back to Montpellier. Tired and hungry an Italian salad did nothing to refresh. By now we had worked out the tram system for the following day, and we made our way back to the stop which would only mean a 45 minute walk to the campsite from the last stop. This was ok as although tired the walk from Jacou to the campsite through vineyards as the sunset was simply wonderful and I guess what France is all about for me.

Day 7 - Marseilles

waiting for the train at Marseilles Gare

We noticed the weather and our original plans which would have left us in a rainy Cannes at 7pm at night were swapped for hotel in Marseilles. So train from Montpellier to Avignon to Marseilles. On arrival I was a little amazed by this port town, even though the weather would restrict my viewing. We found the hotel we booked online that morning, then took a trot round a rainy windy Marseilles. Tired by the rain we gather lunch and a small Cotes du Rhone and spent the evening in the hotel.

Day - 8

Whenever a day is spent doing nothing of productivity you try and compensate with one the following day. However, the only thing we could think to do was the laundry. We found ourselves a laundrette and with help of broken French and good miming, a kind and patient lady helped us gather soap and how to operate the machines. The weather was less rainy but still cold, we took a bracing walk along the harbour before returning to our rotating clothes. Oh the simple joys of clean socks and pants and a semi responsible shirt to wear to Monte Carlo tomorrow. We caught the train to Cannes at 2:30pm, and this is where I am now typing away looking like I have a report deadline to finish. Then again, looking at my hair and crumpled shirt, employed is something I look far from.
Cannes is a sunny place for rich bitches, and my first taste of the snobbery that usually accompanies wealth occured within 30 mins of alighting at Cannes Gare. Struggling to find our bearings, I approached a lovely looking couple and asked with poor pronunciation "ou est le stade". She noticed I was English obviously and despite my attempt at French she snapped "sorry we don't speak English". Confused and snapping at eachother we managed to find a bus which took us practically to the door step of our campsite. What a friendly and down to earth campsite too. As always we sought to feed ourselves, and we found another supermarche, and some more cheese and some more wine. Spying a 2009 Cote Du Rhone for only EUR3.11 I snapped it off the shelf as if it were the last one. I sometimes see it on special in Asda for £6. Somehow wine and cheese tastes so special when watching a French sun go down. That night we went to bed with the sun.

Day - 9 Monte Carlo

Which gets sunk first when the revolution comes?

This was one of my highlights a day trip to Monte Carlo. I know with Easyjet I feel ashamed everytime I say "I've always wanted to see" applied to a place in Europe. Anyway I always wanted to see this mega rich principality. The sun was out and it sprayed the place with colour. The colour mostly being white of course from all the yaughts. We first made our way to the Casino, ribbing Sarah that I would convert the EUR 200 in my pocket into 4 chips to make us a million. Stupid talk, noone gets in with out a tie. The outside had three types of people. The rich, those serving the rich (chauffers wiping down Bentleys and door staff), those photographing the rich. It was here my socialist awakened, and for one I didnt feel coy about snapping away like I do at people in developing nations. I happily snapped and treated them like the animals in the zoo the rich are. How the world has become enveloped in such poverty and there is still so much money to waste. Unfortunately, I am one of the very few in the world who has not been brain washed by the lie that is capitalism, therefore I am probably the only one reading this blog who is angry at wealth. Then again, I snapped it and maybe gasped at it and I am contradictory. Do I want it? Really really I don't. I couldn't be so merciless. Would I want to use one of those boats for a day, have a swim in the sea? Hell yes!!  We made the train back and again another agreeable lunch thanks to French supermarche.

Day 10 - Last day in France

Day 10 or fittingly Friday 13th starts at 2:30am when the rain battered our tent senseless, with some water leaking to dampen the ends of our sleeping bags. Sarah's worse than mine.  I needed to pee, but I couldnt go out so suppressed it. My main concern was that it continued into the morning and I had to pack the tent with the driving rain. This was a concern as the rain continued for at least 4 hours. However, come 8am the rain stopped and I lept upon the chance to pack up then. Sarah feels she has a cold starting, and as I possibly gave her mine (which is fading) or she caught one in her own right, who knows. However, she is not liking the idea of camping anymore and I am not going to fight her if she wants the spend the rest of our Euro-vacation in a warm bed. We have slept 6 nights under canvass so far which is a monetary saving of perhaps EUR360.

Coffee'd up we caught the 10:11am train to Ventimiglia just inside Italy. I've had a fantastic time in France. I continue to adore the place and the people, even if often they are rude and snappy. The transport system is easy to understand even without knowledge of basic French. Its relatively on time, although arrivals times seem a little ambitious at times. The cost of things are great. Grabbing a few things at a supermarche will set you back at least EUR 10. The same would cost about £6 in Britain. Then again if you add wine to that basket the price tips in favour of the French. I think wholeheartedly that should you come to France, do not do it on a tour. Immerse yourself amongst the French. The old addage that if it works in France it probably won't work anywhere else is true and so interesting to watch. Germany is supposed to be the efficient country, but so is France. My 10 days here which has taken me from Paris to other big cities of Lyon and Marseilles, and viewed the variety of countryside. On the Cote d Azur look to your right from the train and see the turquoise sea, look to your right and see the snow capped mountaIns. Everything looks, tastes and smells better in France. Why has France been voted 4 years on the trot as the nicest country to live in? Take a look and its freaking obvious.

Days 2 to 4 Paris to Carcasonne

Day 2

First night camping

Lets just say the course of travel never runneth smooth. Thursday my task was to meet Sarah from CDG Paris as she arrived at 8:10am. I got very little sleep due to the inconsiderate knobs I shared my hostel dorm. It was hot so I slept with my t-shirt and trousers but the window got opened wide leaving me waking and shivering. Any idea that I would leave quietly at 5:30am were put to bed by this as I took the time I needed to pack things and brush my teeth as loudly as possible. A fruitless protest as another dorm user was also leaving at the same time. Anyhoo I made the metro to CDG by 7am a full hour to kill before Sarah's flight landed. I needed to meet her at terminal 2E. The plane landed at 8:24am, and I waited the unknown amount of time to clear customs. After 45 minutes I became concerned. France has efficient immigration. I asked information if the Chicago O Hare flight had picked up all there bags and went through, and the reply yes. This led me to worry where Sarah was, with a phonecall waking her mother at 1am ensuing. I know Sarah wouldnt know my number, I'd always be 'Chris' on her phone, but I knew she knew her mothers. So her mom could pass on the message that Chris is waiting in 2E.  I won't ham out the drama but basically they were about to send her bags to Manchester and Sarah was in the process of stopping them doing that. Long story short, we were delayed but on our way and the adventures started. We made our way towards Notre Dame (again i Know). Then towards Gare de Lyon to catch the TGV to Lyon. Now we were dependent on instructions given to us at the destination campsite on how to get there, and despite my male distrust of inability to read instructions, these proved to be the finest in time and distance. From Lyon Part Dieu taker underground to Gare Du Vaise then 89 bus to campsite, the latter being the accurate to the minute. We put up the tent, then made our way to the supermarket to buy some cheese, french bread, and anything else including a bottle of Bordeaux Rose which would make us feel French. We had a great meal, then clumsily made our way into the sleeping bags and although Sarah had trouble sleeping.I have to say, I had the best sleep in a long time.



Day 3


Friday was spent in Lyon, and the first task as I suppose most of interrail is about is to find a way out now you have arrived. This we did trolling two stations to find our way to Carcassonne where I am typing this. The city of Lyon is quite a suprise. A city that carrys a large transport system which feels compact if only as it is so efficient. You don't get a full idea of the size until you take the time to climb up to this cathedral which overlooks and maybe dominates the city. From up there you see the old and new mingle. This walk and the subsequent coffee reward took up a good part of the day. On return we again visited the supermarket and bought our tea. That night it rained and for both of us the sleeping was terrible. So terrible we decided our next night would be in a hotel, where I am typing this now.

Day 4
An early start with a 5:15 alarm. We rose and packed everything up in the dark. Then a mad dash to the bus. The gates were locked and with only 6 minutes to get the 6:10am bus and consequently the 7:20am from Lyon to Avignon, Sarah squeezed through a hole in the fence. In pushing her I didn't notice her day bag was choking her but I stopped before she passed out. The door was opened before I did the same, so I didn't have to endure the same problems. Anyway we made it to bus to underground to station on time. However, as has become so familiar with Northern Rail, anytime you rush and cough up blood for a train, it will be delayed, as in this case for an hour. Our journey took us to Avignon, then to Narbonne where we drank coffee and water for an hour (I am keeping to my 'no beer till Germany rule). Then the train from Narbonne to Carcassonne. Somewhere between there and arrival we firmed up we will be sleeping in a bed, which is where I am sat now typing this. Carcassonne's main attraction is a medieval city which is filled with shops and cafes etc and is probably Southern Frances answer to Mont St Michel near St Malo in the North. As always walking castles is Sarah's thing, although I did enjoy too. Then retired to the hotel, where Sarah has turned out the lights and is trying to sleep and hiding her annoyance at me tapping on my netbook. We have decided we are catching the 12:56pm to Montpellier tomorrow. This was decided mainly by checking weather reports. Foix to the West was our original plan, but yahoo weather said it will piss down. Therefore we are doing what that little island of my birth won't let me do. We're escaping the rain or chasing the sun you decide. It is only a 2 hour journey and more camping. However, for now I will enjoy my comfy sleep in this comfy hotel, where I am typing this now.

Day 1 Paris

Now I'm going to going out on a limb here, throw my hat in the ring, let the chips fall where they may and say Paris is the most beautiful city I've visited thus far. That may be shooting my load early in a years travel but if there is a city on a cloudy day that can keep you walking and walking and looking and looking without the need to stop for refreshment as effortlessly as Paris did to me today, could you tell me what it is. If it isn't on my travels then I need to put it on. I've been to Paris a few times and Europes next city to London, never ceases to amaze.

I started the day walking the virtually straight line south from Gare Du Nord roughly towards the Latin Quarter. Even the dodgy areas of questionable clothing and Algerians drinking expresso with water and chugging on full tarred cigarettes doesn't take anything away from it. It took maybe an hour to reach Notre Dame, which is unremarkable in my view, but I sat there and typed an email to my wife who is arriving tomorrow, while occasionally looking up at the tourists with day packs and Nokia cameras. Then I catch a reflection, and I am exactly the same. From Notre Dame I walked on the north of Seine and past the Louvre to a garden to the east of the glass pyramid. There I found a perfect deck chair by a disused fountain and sat and read Stephen Frys Chronicles. A book so funny and endearing, I've been guilty of scaring people next to me by giving an audible laugh.

Martines Grandpapa and Papa!!

From the deck chair I walked up the Champs D Elysee to the Arc du Triumph. On the way I saw a Citroen show room and I saw a renovated 1970s Citroen convertible.I took a picture, which I will label Martines Daddy (Martine is my recent Citroen C3). Anyway Martines Daddy looked amazing and like the lone my dad used to drive when I was younger. Just about was Martines Grandad, as I think it was a citroen from the 40s or 50s. Anyway I love Citroens so much, I was a bit like a kid in a sweet shop when I found the shop.

Having reached the ADT, I decided my mission  was to the continue to where else? The Eiffel Tower of course. I didn't stay there long as I viewed it more as a mountain peak, with the journey to rather than the destination being important. I decided to cough up EUR 1.70 for a Metro back to the hostel where I am now typing this on the free WIFI. I'm proud how I've kept costs down. I'm sticking to my rule of no beer until Germany. However, I really really need a cafe au lait in a nearby Cafe and that is where I am going now to continue my Stephen Fry book.

Looking forward to seeing wifey tomorrow. Its been too long and there is only so much peace a man can take,

Day 1 - email to wife

Save typing again and I said nothing un-publishable!!

Hi hun,

Just letting you know I arrived ok. I'm sat outside Notre Dame typing this after taking a walk in from my hostel near Gare Du Nord.

I had a tiring journey mainly caused by the plane being delayed by 1:30mins. Something to do with French air traffic control on strike. Anyway landed later than the last train in to GDNord. So had to find a bus. The info guy said I could buy a ticket on the bus, but when there the driver started protesting in French. I tried to explain in my little French that I was told I could buy one here, he got stressed and told me to get on and I got a free ride to Paris centre for nothing. It's quite a ride from CDG to the centre and I arrived at the hostel at about 1:20pm. The room had 4 others in a bed. One was up watching a film on his laptop. I grabbed my day bag with important stuff balanced the small pillow on it and drifted off to sleep.

I woke up at 8am (well its 7am in UK), and realised the hostel did free breakfast. Croissants, bread and coffee. I'm pretty full. So pleased to report Paris has been pretty cheap so far.

When I've finished this email, I'm off up to the Champs d Elysee. I'm also visiting the French Revolution Museum later.

Anyway I hope you have a great flight. I will find you. I'm not sure which terminal but I have your details somewhere and I will wait for you in arrivals. I'm getting up at 6am to do so, so I hope I'm not late.

Speak soon

Love you

Launch Day

9 Hours and 28 Minutes 

I don't have much to say apart from today's the day and so glad to have got here at last. I had great sleep on my sisters couch last night and feel very refreshed. I awoke at about 6:30am. I think I managed to get some more sleep, but the kids were going to come in the living room at some point, but I'm pleased that didn't happen until about 8:30 at least. I just scoffed some brioche with coffee and I think I'm ready for the day. Even though I don't leave until 2pm. I have bags of time to kill. I may spend that shouting at the kids and checking and rechecking documents and packing, and will still forget something.

Sarah sent me an email last night saying the weather in Paris is not great at the moment. It looks as though she is right. I replied, thats ok because "French brothels usually have roofs". She won't reply before 2pm (GMT) so I will await her reply to that with intrepidation. This may have put paid to my mental picture of a solo picnic on the grass with the Eiffel Tower as a backdrop.This would be a well tweetable picture. Me, my baguette, a plastic glass of red wine and my toy Oaf. This would be so fricking hilarious and endearing... for about 5 minutes. No instead my mental picture has moved to a sheltered outside Cafe on the Champs or Place De La Bastille. In any case I've got a coat. I will use my full day in Paris to take a look at the historical parts I like. Two blocks north of Notre Dame is the Musee Carnavalet, Histoire De Paris. Supposed to be the best for artifacts on the French Revolution. This will be a definite visit for me. Although I've quietened down, I'm still as obsessed as always about the French Revolution. The characters of Robespierre and Dante. 

I won't see the UK again until 9th May and then it will be for only a day in London. So really today is goodbye to the UK for a year. A year which will mean I will not be around when the Olympics hit London. Also being in China when Euro 2012 kicks off, I think I may miss a lot of that also. Or maybe I won't, although persuading Sarah to let me watch in an English bar somewhere will need a huge charm offensive. I will not want to miss England going out on penalties in the quarter-finals and putting all the blame of it on one player who gets sent off (fairly or unfairly), as the one cause that they didn't go all the way.

Anyway I'm babbling a bit here so I will sign off for now. However, with the time I have to kill (now reduced to 8 hours and 57 mins). I will probably be on here again or tweeting a few more times.

Later peeps!