So, after more than 3 years living and working abroad, I finally had the chance to go. I´m living in Helsinki at the moment, and it´s only an hour and a half by catamaran...so...after spending midsummer at the family´s summer cottage, I got home, jumped online, booked some tix and went the next day to Tallinn!

After a rocky ride on the boat, I arrived in lovely Tallinn - and, so it seemed, so did half the continent! Heritage listing is a funny thing...one of the main aims of listing a cultural/natural treasure is to ensure it is protected. But then, of course, as soon as something gets the WHL stamp on it, every flag-wielding tour group descends upon it.....and is it really possible for a cultural treasure such as Tallinn to be properly appreciated when there are swarms of people there? I guess it´s like many other places, but as the Old Town is so compact, it feels really suffocating here.
Flag wielders and mobs aside, Tallinn was lovely.

A short walk into town in the blazing sun (yes, it was hot here!) saw me arrive at my hostel....at least I hoped it was my hostel, for as I started up the staircase, I caught glimpse of some brightly scripted words on the wall.....

“Strip tiis”!

Uhoh....

Now, my knowledge of Finno-Ugric (Finnish, Estonian and Hungarian; Finnish and Estonian being quite similar) words at this time was limited to a grand Finnish vocabulary that went something like this - “Moi” - hello, “Hei Hei” – Bye, “Mitää Kuluu”, “Hyvää” – good, “Kippis” – [which sounds remarkably like something lots of people like to do on the weekened] – cheers, and “nukkumaanmenoaika “ – bedtime [I´m working with kids and it pisses them off when I say it at 5 in the afternoon!]. But, hmmm, kinda obvious hey?

What to do..... “Is the hostel somehow affiliated with a strip-joint?” I wondered.

Hmmm....fingers firmly crossed, I wandered up to the first floor, to find what appeared to be a very pleasant hostel. No strippers in sight, nor any seedbags! I hoped that come evening time, that´s how it would stay!

So after offloading my bag, I wandered through the winding cobbled lanes of medieval Tallinn to its heart, at Raekoja Platsto, which is home to the 13th Century Town Hall and surrounded by bustling cafes. I climbed up the Town Hall Tower for a glorious glimpse down upon the old town before wandering, alongside throngs of tourists, up to Toompea Hill, Tallinn´s birthplace and presently home to the Estonian parliament and the spectacular Russian Orthodox Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, with its amazing mosaics and glimmering icons.

After savouring more splendid views from Toompea Hill, I scaled parts of the city walls, before grabbing a bite to eat, stopping by at the old KGB headquarters (nothing special) and heading back to the hostel, which seemed to be free of scantily-clad ladies being ogled over by dirty old (or young) men. In fact the only people that seemed to be there were the grouchy reception ladies and my roommates - the first, a sniffly Japanese girl, and the second, a fellow Sydneysider, Christina, who was on a whirlwind Summer trip through Europe.

The next morning, after perhaps the worst omelette I´ve ever had (after 3 months in Africa and 4 in Asia, I´m quite an omelette connoisseur!), and some teeth enamel-removing-strength coffee, I wandered in search of some of the old town´s art nouveau (a little disappointing after Riga), and stopped to look at the Holy Spirit Church and its splendid 15th century clock, before heading to the Museum of Occupation. As was the case in Latvia, Estonia was occupied by Nazi Germany and then the Soviet Union for much of the 20th century, and the museum details the history of the occupation and of Estonia´s attainment of independence in 1991. Whereas in Czechoslovakia, they had a Velvet Revolution (bloodless and largely casualty free), in Estonia, they had a “Singing Revolution”. Over a period of 5 years between 1987 and 1991, nightly singing masses across Estonia gathered to sing Estonian national songs and hymns, which were banned under Soviet occupation. On 20th August 1991, one-fifth of the Estonian people rallied together in Tallinn. As Soviet tanks stormed through the city to try and put a stop to the rally (apparently Estonians are awful singers!) the people acted as human shields (to protect TV and radio crews) and the independent state of Estonia was declared for all the world to see.

After learning a little about Estonia´s struggle for independence, I wandered around the sunny Harju Hill to the Danish King´s Garden (Estonia was governed by Denmark in the 12th and 13th centuries). According to legend, during the Battle of Lyndanisse (i.e. present day Tallinn), a flag fell down from the sky, helping the Danes to win the battle – this flag is still used by Denmark today. From here I stopped at the Kalev “factory”, where marzipan was said to have been first created, before heading down to the Dominican monastery.

I had read that in this monastery, one of Tallinn´s oldest buildings, there exists an “energy pillar”, a source of mysterious power. I too hoped to get some of this “power” so sauntered inside, where I was met by a 900 (or so it seemed) yr old monk who was delighted to see me, and spoke at length (firstly in Estonian, then broken German) and with enthusiasm about the monastery and its history. He showed me a new collection of photographs (of monks of course), before leading me into the “energy” chamber. He encouraged me to stand in the centre of the room and sing (and presumably feel the good vibes)...so I did...and waited for the energy to hit me...but alas, I didn´t get those good energy vibes....so I wandered out to the delightful cloister for a concert of medieval music.

In the evening I met up with my roommate from the hostel, Christina. Her American flatmate had arrived, and as it was the 4th of July, we went, along with our new roommates, a friendly American couple, in search of pancakes! After a delicious feast on of cream cheese and lingonberry pancakes (there are about 60 types of berries in this part of the world – all delicious), we headed off to the “Pub With No Name” (but plenty of beer, unlike the song), to watch the World Cup play-off between Germany and Italy. Having had our World Cup hopes dashed by a dodgy ref call in Australia´s game against Italy, I was of course supporting Germany! Besides, they were the hosts! But....infuriatingly, the pretty boys won – this time, fair and square...

The next morning, after a much nicer omelette and coffee combo than previously, I headed out in search of the Estonian History Museum (closed), Music museum (closed!) and finally the Fire-fighting museum (meant to have a cool doll house that demonstrates 30 ways to burn down your house!! Great for the hidden pyro in me...but closed too!!!) before wandering up to St Olaf´s Church to climb its spire. In the 16th Century, St Olaf´s Church was the tallest building in the world. Its 124m seems relatively puny in comparison with the world´s tallest building today, Taipei 100 in Taiwan (509m)., but the view from the top was, of course, amazing, and worth the gazillion or so stairs to get up there!

After all those stairs, I was in need of some food, so I headed off in search of the Embassy of Pure Food, an Estonian (not-quite) vegetarian restaurant.... with incredible food, and certainly the friendliest and most efficient embassy staff I´ve met anywhere in the world!

Last stop in Tallinn was the Linnahall, a monstrosity of a building I´d past on my way into town from the boat. During the 1980 Olympics in Moscow, they decided to hold the sailing events in the Baltic sea (Moscow is a long way inland), and used Tallinn as their base. The Linnahall, an extraordinarily revolting building was thus constructed as the Olympic event centre, but has seldom been used since. It´s one of the few remaining reminders of the Soviet era in Tallinn – in typical Soviet Style, it´s an ugly lump of Concrete with little to redeem it but the wacky statue atop it, and the potential for skateboarders to run amok!

And from there, I did some last minute shopping at the nasty port shopping complex, before bidding the steeples, towers and medieval streets of Tallinn farewell!

Bel x

Tallinn remains copyright of the author Backpasher, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I had to go.

It really would have been wrong if I hadn't.

A month later, I boarded the Tolstoy overnight express to Moscow. I devoured my stash of karjalanpiirakka and sipped on sweet black tea served in an elegant filigree silver coated glass. My cabinmate was Anja, a 20-something Muscovite on her way home from a glorious summer spent in idyllic Karelia.

She was dreading her return to studies in Moscow – "too competitive, boring and expensive", she mused (she was studying Economics, you see). In addition to teaching me to read the Cyrillic alphabet, she told me a little of how life was for her in Moscow –exhausting, expensive, exasperating, and very occasionally exhilarating. My life exactly, I thought.

We chatted away as the train rolled across the border into Russia. The pale green forests of the drought-stricken Finnish countryside faded away as the blackened forests from the summer bushfires set in. The provodnitsa (carriage conductor), a remarkably affable lady with bouffant hair and a painted face popped in to make sure we were comfortable, and even the immigration police were surprisingly welcoming, not even bothering to search my backpack for weapons of mass destruction. I was mildly disappointed to have evaded the bureaucratic minefield I had so been anticipating.

The train rolled into Leningradsky vozkal at 8.30am and I used my newly acquired knowledge of Cyrillic to navigate my way on the metro to my hostel on Ul Arbat, a lively Moscow street with its art market, buskers and enough matryoshkas to last you all the way to Vladivostok! Resisting the compulsion to head straight to Red Square, I ambled down Ul Arbat to the Pushkin Fine Arts Museum. Now according to Lonely Planet's (ever fallible but still beloved) guide to Russia and Belarus, the Pushkin is home to a wonderful
collection of impressionist and post-impressionist paintings. But of
course, since publication 5 months earlier, these works have shifted to a gallery down the street! But the Art Noveau posters by Toulouse-Lautrec and Mucha more than sufficed.

As I exited the Pushkin onto ul Volkhonka, I was blinded by the dazzling dome of the gargantuan Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, which was built to commemorate Russia's victory over Napoleon 1812 (hence the 1812 Overture). During Stalin's reign, it was proposed that the church be destroyed to make way for a 300m high Palace of Soviets and a 100m Lenin statue. Instead, they
built the world's largest swimming pool!

After a rather tasty serve of bliny (essentially a crepe, with a ludicrous slop of sour cream, veges and cheese), I hopped back on the elegant metro. Now, having lived for 8 months in London, I had come to loathe the Tube as much as I loved it. But then the Moscow metro is truly marvellous – it carries 4 times the daily volume of the London Underground with few delays and seemingly little overcrowding. Not only does it get you from A to Щ (the Cyrillic equivalent of "shch"), many of the stations are exquisitely beautiful – from the gold-trimmed white porcelain of Prospekt
Mira, to the incredible mosaics of Kievskaya or the floral bas-reliefs
decorated with AK-47s at Partizanskaya. And the escalators…well you feel as though you are descending into some subterranean underworld with stoney-faced babushkas acting as guardians of the gates.

Resurfacing from the underworld into the gleaming August sunlight, I
ventured out to the Novodevichy Convent. The convent was founded in the 16th century, and was previously the residence of Peter the Great's sister, Sophie, but nowadays is used as a convent. The convent has a cluster of lovely churches set amidst charming gardens, which as I quickly discovered, has made it immensely popular with the nouveau riche of Moscow for wedding
photos. So after being growled at by half-a-dozen-bottom-sniffing-salivating-snarling-German-Shepherds (quite traumatic for a caninophobe!), en route from the Metro, I was amused to find
the wedding brigade. The brides – gaunt-apricot-skinned 19 year olds in baby-spew-hued-taffeta-gowns smiled radiantly. The grooms –well-chuffed-clean-shaven-Elvis-esque-suit wearing casanovas. The wedding cars – well, hilarious really. Imagine your standard white limo – stylish, not too showy ya know. Then imagine the car has had a few modifications.

Let's say it's been "pimped" up.

Like a hot rod!

Oh dear….

Unable to bear any more ridiculously over-the-top wedding parties I headed around the corner to the adjacent cemetery where I paid my respects to Chekhov, former Soviet President Nikita Khrushchev, Mrs Gorbachev, and several great Russian composers including Prokofiev, Shostakovich and Kabalevsky, whose studies I used to play until my fingers hurt. As I was leaving the cemetery, it began lashing with rain and I wandered, rather soaked, back to Ul Arbat where I met Lauren, an American heading across Siberia, via the "Stans"; and Jina, a Pommie who planned to cycle around
the remote but purportedly enchanting Solovetsky Islands.

One of the creepiest but perversely fascinating things to see in Moscow, is surely Lenin's mausoleum. After his death in 1924, mourners filed solemnly past Lenin's decaying body for weeks. The Kremlin set out to find a technique for modern day preservation, and 6 months after his death, came up with a chemical solution (no pun intended). So today, 82 years after his death, you can still pay your respects to the rather waxy-looking Lenin. Lauren and I entered the icy, dimly-lit, heavily-guarded chamber – to come
face to face with Vladimir Lenin the following morning. It was a little
surreal, and a lot creepy – I know they submerge him in paraffin wax every year as part of the necrotic preservation, but he really did just look plain weird.

From Red Square we headed out to the burbs to visit the Izmaylovo Market, with its large collection of Soviet paraphernalia, matryoshky, rugs, lacquerware etc. After trying on a ridiculous number of oversized Cherkessian hats and opening up as many matryoshka sets as we were allowed to, Lauren stopped to buy some elegantly hand-painted napkin rings (for her "glory box" or something equally dire). She paid for her purchase, and we
headed off in search of some bliny for lunch.

But bliny wasn't to be had as we were stopped abruptly by the peevish looking man who had sold her the napkin-rings. He violently grabbed Lauren by the arm. Spitting out a staccato of words in obviously incomprehensible Russian, he proceeded to aggressively haul Lauren back to his market stall, all the time muttering away to himself. Quite bewildered by the situation, Lauren pushed him away and attempted to run. But it was futile for he grabbed her with even more vigour than before. He punched her, she kicked
him etc. Oh dear…

A young female vendor came running over and acted as an interpreter. It turned out that the grumpy old sod had given Lauren too much change (about $1.50 or so), and was determined to get his change back. I encouraged Lauren to just give him the money so we could be happily on our way. But Lauren was pissed off – rightly so, as the man was being a complete bastard – and decided, on principle, not to give him the money. Hmmm….bad idea, the man's anger intensified and he started to hit Lauren, while various vendors from nearby stalls and I tried to break it up. Oh dear dear dear….

Eventually Lauren coughed up the money and we walked away, but not after he kicked her one more time and she slapped him back. Lauren was obviously upset by the experience, and more than a little angry. A rotund old lady came running out from her stall, sobbing uncontrollably. She hugged Lauren, and then me, all the time sobbing her eyes out. She then ushered us into her
stall, sat us down, prepared us some tea and called over an interpreter.

Lauren was keen to seek out the police to report the man for assault, though I really thought it would be one of those pointless ventures into foreign bureaucracy. I had read that Russia has one of the highest rates of domestic violence in the world, so thought that the police were likely to be unresponsive to the woebegone pleas of a foreigner, American at that. But perhaps her persistence paid off, as the administrator of the market was sought, the nasty man reprimanded, and apparently told to sod off permanently. Now whether or not this was true, it certainly made Lauren feel a lot better.

After the joys of Izmaylovo, Lauren set off to brave the bureaucrats at the Embassy of Kazakhstan - a brave move, I thought, considering the reputation of the consular staff. I meanwhile, headed back to Red Square to visit the onion-domed-giddying- cornucopia of colours that is St Basil's Cathedral,
and the nearby red-bricked State History Museum, which, with only Cyrillic writing on the exhibits made for a rather challenging museum visit.

Finally, I had the time to wander about splendid Red Square. Flanked by the Kremlin, St Basil's, State History Museum and Gum Department Store, it's a glorious place to wander – surely one of the most beautiful city squares in the world.

I headed back to Red Square the following morning to visit the Kremlin, the heart of Russian politics for more than 800 years. Whilst in queue, I met a Canadian Rugby player (do they even have a team?), and together we wandered around the Kremlin grounds, taking in the Patriarch's Palace, Assumption Cathedral, Tsar Bell and Cannon, Annunciation Cathedral, Archangel Cathedral and Alexandrovsky Garden. Neither of us had been fortunate enough
to nab tickets to visit the Armoury, as it seemed to have been booked out my name-tag-wearing-tour-groups, who smirked at us as we were refused entry. I had by chance, seen an exhibition of Faberge eggs and jewellery in Tampere, Finland two weeks before, so wasn't too bothered.

Both of us found the Kremlin underwhelming and headed out in search of a bit of craic. So to the All Russian Exhibition Centre we went. In spite of its decidedly dour name, the VDNKh (as it is known in Russian), is a fascinating park with wide pavements filled with grandiose pavilions, exquisite fountains, rocket ships, the world's third largest ferris wheel and young scantily clad Muscovites practising death-defying roller-blade manoeuvres.

From the top of the ferris wheel we had an amazing view over the bustling metropolis of 10million people, as well as an appreciation of the enormity of the Ostankino tower, which at 540m is the 2nd tallest free standing tower in the world.

As we quickly discovered, the VDNKh is also a great place to check out the latest in Muscovite fashion (or perhaps anti-fashion) - aspiring minxes in their red PVC crop tops and matching tights, crotch-hugging denim cut-offs with crocheted-string-bikinis, hideous lycra white mini-dresses with chunky white platforms…(no salivating here lads!). As for the men – well not a lot to say really - a little too much stonewash, far too many muscle shirts and
loads of grey shoes – seriously….just don't do it!

After a wander in the glorious summer sunshine, we ambled along the Moscow river, towards the Sculpture Park with its statues of Stalin, Lenin, Brezhnev, and bizarrely of a few Buddhas!

We headed to the wonderful Tretyakov gallery the next morning to view the resplendent collection of Russian icons. For a non-Catholic who is mostly interested in late 19th/early 20th century paintings, I am surprisingly fond of iconographic works and have probably visited all the museums of iconography from the Moscow down to Dubrovnik! There's something inexplicably beguiling about their elongated glimmering faces….ok maybe I'm just a bit weird!

Chris didn't seem to share my enthusiasm but was more enthusiastic about the prospect of visiting Gorky Park, with its mesmerizing carousel music, rainbow-coloured ankle biters, rocket ships and crazy mirrors that make you look as skinny, miniscule, or Michelin-man like as you so desire. Certainly not the snowy, sinister place I remembered from the 1983 film…

From here I headed to the contemporary history museum with its collection of old Bolshevik paraphernalia, the Bolshoi (closed for refurbishment) and finally for one last wander about mesmeric Red Square before boarding my overnight train to St Petersburg.

My arrival at Moskovsky Vozkal early the next morning reminded me how fond I truly am of grungy European railway stations – melting pots of vagrants, vagabonds and bag-snatching vultures. The fact that at 8am there was copious inebriation aflutter was a little disturbing….is there really any need to be drinking beer, let alone vodka this early in the morning? ?

After checking into my cosy hostel, I strolled along the banks of the Neva river, and then through the elegant Summer Gardens en route to Mikhailovsky Palace (home to the Russian Museum) with its collection of Russian icons, sculptures and paintings and a sublime exhibition of Filinov works. Then I meandered about the canals admire the exterior of the lovely but hideously named Church of The Saviour on Spilled Blood, before wandering down Nevsky Prospekt towards Dvortsovaya Ploschad, the beautiful cobbled square outside
the Hermitage. The square is a great place for people-watching – young lads hooning about in their 1975 model ladas, roller-blading-mini-skirted-40-something women, surly men strutting along
with their muscle shirts and murses (man bags), lip-puffing lolitas in the new anti-fashionware and digital-camera-toting-tourists clutching their Louis Vuitton handbags and stumbling about in their Jimmy Choos.

Back at the hostel that night I bumped into a familiar face, Jina, who I had met in Moscow. She'd just returned from the Solovetsky Islands in North West Russia, though a week or so earlier than planned. She relayed to me how she'd met a Russian lad on the boat across to the islands and had gone cycling with him up to the Transfiguration Monastery. So distracted was she by the remarkable scenery, that she went flying over the handlebars and
fell unconscious, only to wake up to learn she had lost half a tooth,
seriously grazed her face and couldn't move her neck. Her friend and the benevolent owners of the local guesthouse took her in and dulled the pain with some swigs of Vodka before she headed back to St Petersburg in search of proper medical attention. She headed off the next morning to the American Medical Clinic to learn she had actually fractured her neck and might lose the rest of her shattered tooth…bloody bicycles!

The next morning I hit the Hermitage, the mint-green gilded former palace of Catherine the Great. The Hermitage is now home to more than 3 million artworks ranging from bronze-age petroglyphs to works from Picasso's Blue Period. I found the dizzying array of works a little overwhelming so tried to dip in and out rooms that were of interest and admire the sumptuous interior including the forest coloured Malachite Hall, alluring chandelier crowned ballroom and elegant Jordan Staircase. Not quite arted out, I headed from there to check out the inside of the Church of The Saviour on
Spilled Blood, with its elegantly painted frescoes, dazzling mosaics (all 7000 of them) and marble furnishings.

I awoke the next morning to gleaming sunshine so took a bus out to
Petrodvorets (Peter's Palace) to check out the amazing gardens and cascading fountains of the "Russian Versailles". The gravity powered fountains (140 of them) are pretty spectacular and adorned with gilded sculptures of Greek gods and goddesses. I wandered about the exquisite Lower Gardens of the estate, past the Grand Palace and Montplaisir (Peter the Great's favourite
seaside villa), before boarding a random bus, which I desperately hoped would get me back into town - thankfully it did and my entire Russian vocabulary of "Privet spasiba blin smetana bliny" ("hello thank you damn sour cream pancake") wasn't put to the test!

Back in St Petersburg I headed to the golden-capped St Isaac's Cathedral. When I arrived at Isaakievsky Ploschad, I stopped to join the crowd who had gathered and were staring up at the smoke in the sky. Until I scaled the colonnade of the Church, I had thought that an old apartment building was alight, though it soon became apparent that the dome of a large cathedral had gone up in flames – that of the Trinity Cathedral. Whilst up the colonnade it began to pour so after scrambling down, I lingered in the delicate interior of St Isaac's whilst I waited for the rain to pass by.
Decorated discreetly in buff pink granite, lapis azuli and forest-green
malachite, it was a less giddying interior than that of the Spilled Blood Cathedral.

On my last morning in St Petersburg I perused the Museum of Ethnography to learn a little about the 150 different ethnic groups that combine to form Russia, before wandering past the Town Duma (old parliament) and delightful Passazh arcade and finally to the Alexander Nevsky Monastery and Cemetery to pay homage to Tchaikovsky, Rimsky-Korsakov and Dostoyevsky.

I almost missed my train back to Helsinki as I nearly went to the wrong station….but thankfully the unpleasant cab driver who stinged me for 300roubles got me there just on time…the bastard!


Ah....the joys of travel.
Bel xxx

Privet Spasiba Blin Smetana Bliny!! remains copyright of the author Backpasher, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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I first visited Venice in 1997, after an overnight train journey from Vienna. We were absolutely shattered upon arrival and, spent our paltry one day, roaming about like zombies, with time to do very little aside from visit the Guggenheim gallery, check out Basilica di San Marco, climb the Campanile, take a mandatory outrageously overpriced gondolier ride, and chase pigeons about Piazza di San Marco. December in Venice, is, well, pretty quiet, as it can be chilly and tends to see a lot of rain.

So it was quite a shock to arrive in April 2006 to find that Venice's relatively modest population of around 60,000, had swelled to around 200,000 or more - half seemed to be American college students on spring break, and the rest were fat-walleted-bum-bag-wearing-phallic-lensed-camera-toting-Gucci-sunglass-clad-flag-following-name-tag-wearing-tourists (Gotta love stereotypes!).

After a late arrival into Venice, I hopped on a Vaporetto (water-bus) along the Grand canal to my hostel, on the island of Giudecca. The next morning, I headed to the Sestiere San Marco, where after crossing the Bridge of Sighs, I headed straight to the Palazzo Ducale. This Palazzo was once the residence of the Doge (Venetian Ruler) and seat of government, but now houses a museum with some impressive Renaissance paintings, and a wonderful map room, which details the journeys of Marco Polo (who was born in Venice) to the Far East. From there, I headed to La Fenice Opera House, and visited Peggy Guggenheim's fantastically eclectic gallery, before spending the evening aimlessly wandering the city's labyrinthine passages.

After being kicked out of bed by the grumpy hostel staff at 9.30am the next day, I sauntered outside, rather bleary-eyed, and caught a vaporetto across to San Marco, where I grabbed myself an espresso and climbed up the Campanile, to get a magnificent view over the lagoon and its hundreds of islands. From there I wound my way through the streets and Piazzi of San Marco - San Stefano, Campo Maurizio, Campo San Angelo - visited the splendid (but tiny) Musical Instruments Museum and headed towards Sestiere San Polo.

San Marco is linked to San Polo by the Ponte di Rialto, the oldest and most famous bridge in Venice, and consequently, the area is aflutter with fat-walletted foreigners, expensive Venetian masks and salivating gondoliers. I crossed the Ponte di Rialto, to find myself in San Polo, the oldest part of Venice, and home to the (smelly) fish market, and hundreds of shops selling designer handbags, Venetian masks, Murano glass etc. After my second (or perhaps third) gelato of the day, I hit the wonderful Ca' Pesaro, in nearby San Croce. Ca' Pesaro is an 18th Century Venetian palace that has been converted into a glorious gallery filled with works by Chagall, Matisse, Miro, Kandinsky, and some wonderful Klimt. Then, I finished up the day with an evening of Vivaldi at Chiesa San Vidal.

2 days of trying to push my way through the crowd and I was in need of a break, so caught a vaporetto out to quaint Torcello (pop. 17) with its 11th Century church, before heading onto Burano, home to fine Venetian lace and the world's fattest cat, and then to Murano, home to Murano glass, of course! Back in town, I hit the Museo Correr with its collection of Venetian paintings and sculptures.

The next day, I set out early to have one last roam about the canals, before visiting the splendid Basilica di San Marco, with its Russian-esque onion-domes, golden frescoes and resident spiked pigeons - in an attempt to ward of pigeons (and their poo), spikes have been placed around the eaves. Sure, it stops the pigeons from resting too long upon the eaves, but it's a bit cruel isn't it?

Emilia-Romagna

After racing to the train station, I made my way South to Rimini, Italy's answer to the Gold Coast, without the high-rise and golden meter-maids. A quick stroll along the manky grey sand was enough for me...

I got a cracking start the next day so I could hit San Marino, the world's smallest republic (61 sq km), and (apparently) the oldest constitutional republic in the world still in existence today (first independent in AD301). It was founded by a stonemason from Dalmatia (present day southern Croatia) who was hiding from the anti-Christian emperor Diocletian. San Marino is famous for its Grand Prix, which, would you believe, is held in the nearby Italian countryside!? Its other main annual event is Independence Day, where they celebrate by playing bingo (honest! Google it!).

Upon arrival in mountainous San Marino, I clambered up the winding streets to the vantage points of La Guiata, Cesta and Montale, with their sweeping views across to the coast. I was getting blown away by the tremendously powerful and chilly winds atop the peaks, so headed back into town, to check out the kitsch souvenir shops, and visit the (very boring) national museum, before racing back to Rimini to catch my train onwards to Modena.

Modena is famous foremost for being the home of Ferrari (and also Maserati). It is also the birthplace of the wonderfully sublime balsamic vinegar. So of course, upon arrival there, I treated myself to a lovely meal at a restaurant on the regal Piazza Grande - tempura of artichoke and aubergine with pecorino cheese, hand-made spinach at ricotta ravioli topped with Parmigiano Reggiano (fair dinkum Parmesan cheese, and yeah, even I can't believe I said "fair dinkum") and a side of rocket drizzled with balsamic vinegar. And some fresh sanguinella on the side! Can't afford to eat like that everyday, but it's certainly nice to spoil myself occasionally

My stomach well satisfied, I had a quick wander about town, passing by the 12th century Duomo and the Torre Ghirlandia, before I retired to my spartan hostel. The only other guest, it seemed, was my elderly Italian roommate; a nun who spent 3-4 hours frantically counting her rosary beads!?

In the morning I moved on to Parma, home to Parmigiano Reggiano (aka Parmesan Cheese)! In Parma, I wandered the grand streets - past the Palazzo della Pilotta, into the baptistery and down to the Teatro Regio, the elegant opera house. Then it was time for lunch - a gargantuan serve of risotto with a side of Parmigano...crumbly and delectable...cheese heaven! From there I took a long walk along the riverside (need to work off all that cheese!), before heading to the heavenly Duomo with its sublime frescoes. I had planned to get back to visit the Ferrari factory in Modena, but kinda got stuck looking at the amazing frescoes, and let's be fair here - incredible 11th century frescoes, or an overpriced vehicle that will lose value if you even breathe on it (Sorry motorphiles!)

Next up was Bologna, which is, home to Spaghetti Bolognese! Of course being a vegetarian, Spag Bol in Italy doesn't quite work, so I settled for a rather mediocre pizza. Bologna is lovely with its earthy red buildings, vaulted arcades and elegant piazzi. It is home to the world's oldest university (Dante studied here!) and is home to a massive population of students, as well as being one of the most socialist areas of Italy (hence the red).

I first hit Piazza Maggiore, where I was not only met by huge renaissance buildings and the ubiquitous pooing pigeon, but also the Peruvian pan-pipe band churning out Simon and Garfunkel numbers (if I'm not getting followed by Hare Krishnas, it's those bloody Peruvian Simon and Garfunkel impersonators). After a quick peep inside the massive San Petronia Basilica, I moved on to wander about the ancient university, before checking out the "twin towers" of Bologna, Torre degli Asinelli and Torre della Garisenda and climbing the 500 (!) steps to the top of Asinelli for the red-rooved view.

After sprinting to the station, I hopped on a train to Florence, then onwards to Pisa, where I was to meet up with my friend Anita. She was arriving on a late Ryan Air flight, so I had a few hours to kill when I got there, so I did the unexpected, and head straight to the Campo dei Miracoli (Field of Dreams), the beautiful field that is home to the Leaning Tower, as well as the Baptistery and Duomo.

Liguria

The next day, Anita and I wandered back up there to climb up the tower, and visit the elegant Duomo. Of course, everyone who visits Pisa wants to go up the tower (in spite of the ludicrous €15 they charge!), and we could only get tix for later that night, or visit when we got back from the Cinque Terre.

So we boarded the coast-hugging train to Riomaggiore, the first of the 5 (Cinque) lands (Terre). We spent the next couple of days here, walking between the five towns, sipping espresso, sampling every possible gelati (Straciatella and Sanguinella are perhaps my faves), and generally relaxing along the way. The Cinque Terre is certainly lovely and well worth the visit, though, because it was Easter Weekend, the place was seriously manic!

We were so much enjoying our lunch (ravioli with chocolate swirls!) in Vernazza, and sunbaking on the rocks (no beach!) in Riomaggiore, that we were a little slow in leaving the Cinque Terre for Pisa. And we really did have to get back there as we had pre-booked our Pisa climb. So we caught the latest train that would get us there on time.....except, silly us (or, in this case, me), thought the train was direct through to Pisa, and when the train started going backwards in La Spezia, we were thinking, "Uh-oh"......

So we wound up back in Riomaggiore, and had to resign ourselves to the likelihood that we just weren't going to get to climb the tower. The train we were now on, would only get us into the station at 1908, and our tix were for 7pm! Even if we taxied our way there from the station, what were we to do with our backpacks!!?!

So we did all that we could do. After our 1908 (on time!) arrival, we hailed a taxi to our hotel, practically threw our bags across the front desk (thankfully they remembered us!), and jumped back in the taxi to get to the tower. We ran across the field to the tower, and gave the ticket man our tix.

"No, your tickets for 7pm" (by now it was pushing 7.30). "You're too late!".

"Signore, per favore", said I, smiling hopefully, "Il tren, molto lentissimo", rapidly exhausting my rubbish Italian lexicon.

"Ok, ok, but take your bags there", he said, pointing over to the left luggage room.

So, yeah, we made it up the tower! Not really terribly exciting, though we did enjoy tumbling down the stairs afterwards - literally - without getting busted by the guards!

5-months-behind-on-the-emails-Belinda xo

Bella Italia 2006 remains copyright of the author Backpasher, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Early February in London. A chilly 7 degrees, if you´re lucky. Miserable, grey, bleak, dark... I´d thought it would be nice to have a few days somewhere sunny. Malta, perhaps, or maybe Cyprus. - somewhere I hadn´t yet been. But alas, flights were just too flipping expensive; like me, every sun-starved Pommie had had the same idea. So I started focusing on anywhere else in Europe I hadn´t been.

Finland? The aurora borealis...Lapland....Santa Claus...tobogganing... £400 just for flights? No way!

Liechtenstein? It´s another country...famous for producing false teeth....ummm maybe not

Estonia? Tallinn´s meant to be gorgeous...

Latvia? It´s cheap there....meant to delightful...and...

I can go bob-sledding there!?!?

So I went to Riga...where it was a mild -10 upon my arrival late at night.....so much for the warm sunny place dea!!

A quick taxi ride into town left me at Fun Friendly Frank's Backpackers.....I usually have a policy of avoiding places with such wanky names (e.g. “Top Banana” in Phnom Penh was a complete dive), but it had gotten such amazing reviews on hostelworld.com, that I decided I must stay there. Being absolutely shattered from a hectic half-term in the schools, I promptly hit the sack - this particular sack being a rather comfortable bunk bed in a mixed dorm room. After 2-3 hours sleep, I awoke to the cacophonic stumbling of an inebriated Irishman, who was intent on finding his nail-clippers (as all inebriated folk must do)! After a few minutes of fumbling through his bags, he hit the floor with a thud.

And began to snore....like a camel with indigestion might. All attempts I made to rouse him (holding his nose, throwing pillows, chucking water in his face, banging the door against him etc) failed, and so I blearily wandered down to reception, and asked to change rooms...

At four in the morning? No problem! (Lesson number one: Nothing will waken an ossified snorer!)

After a couple more hours sleep, I rugged up to brave the fresh -12 Rigan air, and wandered out in search of coffee. I got distracted though, by the sight of the frozen solid Daugava River! For an Australian, who still thinks +11 is ridiculously cold this had quite some novelty! I stared in amazement at this 800m wide river, and in horror at the crazy people who were walking across it

CRAZY...

So I found that coffee, and then, as perusual, went in search of the highest tower in town, the bell tower of St Peter´s church, and took the lift (they´re very modern in Riga! No bollocking woebegone steps like in Italy) to the top for the astonishing view over the whitescape of Riga.

Did I mention it was -12 when I stepped out? Ok, so at the top of St Peter´s bell tower, it was about -30 with the jolly wind! Back inside for me (more coffee).....to visit the ornate House of the Black Heads (the patron saint of the guild was Maurice, an African warrior), a 14th century guild house, and the Museum of Occupation, which details the German and Soviet Occupations of Latvia during much of the 20th century. Ironically, the square outside the Museum of Occupation is home to a massive statue of the Latvian Riflemen, who were central in helping bring in the Soviet era.

Over the next 2 days: I explored the Heritage-Listed Old town (Everything is listed these days, except perhaps for Brisbane, which just simply isn´t worthy!) with its beautiful art nouveau architecture (assymetric shapes, decorative arches, faces, vines/flowers etc.); wandered through the lovely white parklands filled with children bum-sliding down icy footpaths, ducks snoozing in the (not very warm) sun and Rigans admiring the wintry landscape; visited the architecturally confused Dome Cathedral; window-shopped (mostly from the inside to escape the cold); and drank far too much coffee (As part of my health kick, I only have coffee when I´m “travelling” – this means I still drink coffee all the time! hehe).

So what about the bob-sledding? Well...as soon as I arrived, I asked when I could go. Tomorrow? Nope, we´re booked out. What about the next day? Yeah, possibly. If we have enough people......which thankfully, they did.

Shortly before I was due to head off bob-sledding, I sauntered down to the riverbank to do as the locals did - I figured, that if I were silly enough to jump into a bob-sled, I really should be silly enough to walk out onto a frozen river.

Of course, the ice was thick and strong, and well able to support my weight, as well as that of the 20 or so other foreigners who had decided to brave the ice at the same time as me.

And then...bob-sledding....ah yes. There are only about 10 places in the world where non-professionals can go bob-sledding for the hell of it, and Sigulda, about an hour on the train from downtown Riga, is one such place. So a large mob from the hostel and I boarded the train for our journey out there. In the middle of nowhere (or so it seemed), the train ground to a holt, and the 30 or so of us jumped off and wound our way up to the bob-sled track, stopping on the way, to amuse ourselves by taking pictures of the "Puke" shop - Puke is Latvian for "flower"...quite funny methinks....

I wasn´t the first to go...I think some of the Irish lads jumped in first. I spent the next hour or so befriending a mob of Pommies (whose tag rugby team I later joined). And eventually it was my turn. Jen (one of the Pommies) and I jumped in for the ride....

"So", I said to the driver, "Whadda we have to do?".

"Nothing", said he, "But make sure you don´t hit my helmet with yours"

"That´s it?", I said, uncertainly

"Yeah, it´s easy" he said.

Ok.....so off we went....the first 30 metres or so....kinda slowish, like going down a slippery slide at the local park.....and then we hit the first corner.....WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH! And then it got faster and faster....and even faster. All the time I was focusing on not hitting the driver´s helmet with mine, as per his instructions.....and praying that we didn´t crash.....the whole thing was a bit of a blur. Crazy g-forces, sharp turns, shake, shake, shake, turn, whoosh, shake shake shake, turn whoosh etc....and then all of a sudden...

"BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!" screamed the driver as we approached the end of the track...but nobody did, so we just kept on going!

And when we finally stopped, we consequently incurred the wrath of the pissed-off driver

"Why you no brake?" he shouted at Jen.

"Why you no say to!" I retorted.

Who cares if we braked or not - we clocked the fastest time!! WOOHOO! Must have been that not-braking business of ours! (Lesson number 2: not braking makes you go faster than anyone else!)

After the bob-sledding, everyone was in a bit of a silly mood, and after nearly missing our train back into town (bloody lads at the supermarket held us up!), grabbed some ridiculously cheap pizza and headed out with Fun and Friendly Frank to check out a Latvian discotheque....It was bloody awful with its melange of techno-disco pop, scantily-clad women, thoroughly-turpsed-sunglass-wearing-downright-awful terpsichoreans and flashing multicoloured lights - but quite amusing nonetheless...

The next day was...a tad quiet after the adventures of the night before. Whilst most of the Pommie mob slept, Masum (one of the Poms) and I headed out in search of the ethnographic music (can´t be all pizza, bob-sledding and discotheques now can it?). We boarded, what we hoped was the correct bus. But of course, it wasn´t, and we found ourself at the "end of the line" in the middle of suburban Riga (i.e. the middle of nowhere").

Hmmmm what to do....

"Do you speak English?" I sheepishly asked a random young person at the bus stop.

"No".

"Hi, do you speak English? I asked another person.

"No English". Of course not!!

So we resorted to just sayig "Brivdabas muzej" (Ethnographic museum) to anyone who would listen, and eventually were pointed towards it (maybe).

So we started walking, (perhaps not) towards the museum, but stopped when we came upon some men sitting on jerry cans on a frozen lake.... fishing!

What the? We ambled over towards them, and sure enough, they were fishing...through holes they had burnt in the ice with oversized cigarette lighters....

Of course, I wanted to have a go....and asked one of the old fellas....but no....it seems only men are allowed to ice fish in Latvia. So whilst Masum had a go, I sat and watched.....grrrr...

After some running about on the frozen lake, and making angels in the snow (where you lie on your back in the snow and move your arms up and down across the snow – try it, it´s fun!), we headed back to town, to bum-slide the frozen footpaths (Lesson three, bum-sliding down footpaths is fun but gets you lots of bruises)...

Bel x

Bob-sledding and bum-sliding in Riga remains copyright of the author Backpasher, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Having flitted through Italy more than 7 years ago at the end of a whirlwind European holiday, I was sad to have not had more time to soak up beautiful Tuscany, so, with the window of opportunity that finishing a job afforded me, I decided to take a week off to Bella Toscana.

After a delay in getting there - the Italian airport workers were on strike (Shock! Horror!) - I flew into the balmy Italian capital, where after rushing to catch the train to Florence, was dismayed to learn that my train was delayed by "a couple of hours" due to a bomb scare in Milano....Benvenuto a Italia!!!

Ah...so after a hiccup of a start, and a good night's sleep in Florence, I set about to explore the city, that is truly an open-aired tribute to the Renaissance. After a jitter-inducing macchiato, and resisting the temptation to savour some gelati before 10 in the morning, I meandered my way past the hoardes of African knock-off vendors in the Mercato Centrale and caught a glimpse of the gobsmackingly inspiring Duomo before arriving at the Galleria degli Uffizi, home to the world's greatest Italian art collection (as they so smugly proclaim).

As I wound around the corner to the main entrance to the Uffizi, I
discovered that contrary to popular opinion, queuing is the true national sport of Italy (perhaps even moreso than in Ireland!)....in an admirable attempt to allow visitors to view the artwork without feeling like they are "running with the bulls" in Pamplona, the gallery curators curb the number of people in the gallery at any one time. Solution? Go to the other door, pay a few euro, tell yer man when you want to come back and you walk straight in - no wait!!

So I wandered about the Piazza della Signoria, once the centre of the city's political life, but nowdays, a bustling piazza where tourists flock (along with the pigeons) to queue for the Uffizi and gawk at Ammannati's Fontana di Nettuno, the replica of Michelangelo's David and the sculptures in the Loggia della Signoria. Even with the pigeons, caricature-painting artists, umbrella-waving tour guides and their name-badge wearing followers, it's a pretty amazing Piazza, and not a bad place for people-watching whilst savouring a coconut gelato...or two...

And then into the Uffizi I went where I saw Botticelli's Birth of Venus, several Michelangelos, Titians and Caravaggios, and far too many Madonna con Bambinos!! From here I wandered up Via Proconsola past the Palazzao Nonfinito ("Unfinished palace", the Florentina Abbey and the Duomo, to arrive at the Palazzo Medici-Riccardi with its simple courtyards and wonderfully beautiful frescoes.

The next day I journeyed through the hills to the city of Siena, which was purported to have been founded by the son of the wolf-twin Remus. Following a Birkenstock clad army downhill, I came to the Piazza del Campo at the heart of the medieval city. This fan-shaped slanting piazza is famous for "Il Palio", a wild horse race in which riders tear bareback around the square to win the "palio" - the banner - and the glory that comes with the victory.

At the bottom of the piazza lies the 13th Century and its 100m high bell tower which was a glorious place from which to peer down upon the coral Sienese rooftops and the verdant green hills that lay beyond the city walls.

After feasting on a delicious Porcini (wild mushroom) pizza, I stopped by Siena's city cathedral to marvel at its tri-colour exterior and exquisite interior with a vaulted celing decorated by a delicate splattering of gold stars across an indigo sky.

Back in Florence the following day, I went camera shopping (Yep, finally gone digital!) before perusing the jewellery shops on the charming Ponte Vecchio (the bridge spanning the Arno River), and wandering about the Boboli gardens that lay behind the Palazzo Pitti.

On my third day in Florence, I headed to see Michelangelo's incredible sculpture of David at the Accademia. Michelangelo managed to carve this spectacular sculpture out of a single 5m block of marble and to actually see it in the "flesh" (well it's pretty damn lifelike) was truly awesome. From there I feasted on what was absolutely the most delectable ravioli in the world (with butter and sage - simple yet exquisite) and possibly the most expensive Caffe con Panna in the world - €5.50! Damn fine coffee though.....and I'd do it all over again in a second....

In the afternoon I visited the Basilica di Santa Croce (where Dante,
Machiavelli, and Michelangelo, among others, are buried), rubbed the nose of Il Porcellino (the boar) for good luck, and finally ventured inside Il Duomo and the Baptistery opposite it.

The Duomo is amazingly dominant in Florence with its red-tiled dome, and grandiose pink, white and green facade. Almost everywhere you go in the historic centre of Florence, you are able to feast on its majestic beauty. The Duomo took 150 years to complete and is the 4th largest cathedral in the
world (I think after the cathedrals in Rome, London and Seville) - and would have to have one of the most beautiful exteriors. Upon venturing inside, the vastness is quite overwhelming, as are the frescoes which adorn the dome's interior, depicting The Last Judgement.

From the Duomo I crossed through the Gates of Paradise (the bronze doors decorated with intricate bas-reliefs) into the 5th Century Baptistery with its glittering mosaic-work fresco, before scaling the 400 odd steps to the top of the Campanile (bell tower) to have one last look down over Florence....as the next day I was heading out to San Gimignano, a smalll village perched on a hilltop, with wonderful views out over Tuscany....in San Gimi I did a loop around the medieval walls, wandered from piazza to piazza looking up at the town's many towers and viewed some (more) remarkable frescoes at the city's Cathedral.

After hot-footing it to Rome from San Gimignano, I spent my last day scouting about the major sites I had seen on my last trip...The Colosseum, Roman Forum, St Peter's Basilica, Borghese Gardens, Trastevere, Piazza del Campodoglio, Spanish Steps and Trevi Fountain.

And now it's back to work....til September...and then AFRICA!

Anyone wanna come along?

Ciao

Belinda xox

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Having been unable to find cheap flights to celebrate Xmas in Copenhagen last year, I felt rather obliged to make the most of my 5 day Easter break, so jumped on board a flight to Denmark.... with a few minor hiccups along the way: 1) getting stuck in horrendous Dublin traffic (a national disgrace!) and missing my flight! and 2) being put on stand-by for the flight the following morning and after gleefully accepting an upgrade to business class ("Yes I suppose that would be adequate") and boarding my flight, being informed that "Due to an excess of fog across much of Scandinavia, Copenhagen airport is presently closed, so we will have to sit here and wait for advice from air traffic control in Copenhagen before we are able to take off". Thankfully after a couple of hours, it lifted, and I arrived in Denmark.

Copenhagen is home to approximately 1.7 million people, including the Danish Royal Family, and in 2004 was placed at #5 on a list of the world's most livable cities, along with Sydney! Its charming, centuries old palaces and parks are juxtaposed by its stylish, yet ergonomically designed buildings and a space-age driverless metro. It's akin in many ways to Amsterdam with its gable-house lined canals, cycle-obsessed citizens, and scrumptious pastries - thankfully though, not a mob of Pommie stags to be seen (no offence to ye Pommie lads!). On the other hand, it had that Singaporean police-state aspect to it - it did seem a bit naughty to be seen to be jaywalking, and I would absolutely expect to see someone arrested should they dare spit on the pavement (NOT a bad idea!!)

I started my exploration of Copenhagen at the Radhuspladsen, the city square that is home to the monstrous red-brick Radhus (City Hall), flocks of manky pigeons and a proliferation of "polse" (hot-dog) eating people. The Danes seem to be even more obsessed with munching on hot dogs than the Norwegians and have all sorts of variations on the boring old mutilated mixed animal melange on a bun. If you fancy a hot dog with mustard, then so be it, but if you are more adventurous, you can also have a jalapeno pepper, Danish blue cheese and ketchup combo, or a Crown Prince Frederik Polse (don't ask), or even a Crown Princess Mary - complete with Vegemite!

From the Radhuspladsen I said G'day to Hans Christian Andersen, whose statue sits to the side of the square. Some 200 years after his birth, "Ho-See" remains a enormously popular national icon, and the whole city had gone a tad "Ho-See" mad in preparation for his 200th birthday with shops across the city selling out of his books faster than your local Spar (like a 7-11) can sell a batch of Cheese and Onion flavoured Taytos (for the uninitiated, a truly Irish obsession). Bidding Ho-See farewell, I made for the Danish Design Centre where I devoured my first fair dinkum "wienerbrod" before sampling some of the interactive art on show - a room full of funky, yet functionally designed chairs - when I got bored of sitting on the Pastil chair (a body-contoured chair which you can lounge about on in your swimming pool), I sat for a while on a Tipi chair (rather like sitting on an oversized featherless chicken), before moving onto the Tomato chair (a seat wedged between three tomato like spheres, and finally the Bubble chair - a large fibreglass bubble that floats from the ceiling!!

Anyway, back to the Wienerbrod I was munching on....what is so famously known the world over as the delectable Danish (in all its wonderful varieties), is referred to in Denmark as "Wienerbrod" (i.e. Vienna bread). Why? Well apparently, sometime in the 18th Century, a Danish pastry chef upped and moved to Vienna, where, in between copious coffee outings, and hanging with the Seccessionists, had time to perfect the "Danish" recipe. Ever since, the Danes have referred to the pastry as "wienerbrod". Incidentally, the Austrians still refer to them as "Danishes". Either way - very "Miam-my"!

With the afternoon sun finally rearing its puny little head, I skirted the periphery of the Tivoli amusement park (heavily padlocked for the winter), before roaming up to the quaint Nyhavn ("New harbour") canal, the former merchants' quarter of Copenhagen, and finishing the afternoon on a canal boat tour around the rapidly gentrifying dockland areas, where I got my first glimpse of Amalienborg Palace, the brand-spanking new Opera House, and the backside of the tiny "Little Mermaid" statue....

The following day I headed to the NY Carlsberg Glyptotek, a museum housing an interesting collection of Greek, Etruscan and Egyptian art, before heading up the Rundetarn, a 15th Century round tower, ducking my head into Vor Frue Kirke (where Crown Prince Frederik and Mary got hitched) and ambling down Stroget, a kilometre-long pedestrian shopping strip, replete with high-street fashion stores, eateries and souvenir shops selling Amber, trolls and postcards of the Danish Posh and Becks - aka Crown Prince Frederik and Crown Princess Mary.

So what's the story with the newlyweds then?? Well, apparently the "commoner" Mary Donaldson, a Tasmanian real estate agent, was hanging out in a Sydney bar during the Olympics, and decided she might try her luck with the dashing young man at the bar - this is where dear Frederik comes in. Of course, not really knowing much about Danish Royals, "Our Mary", didn't have a clue that "Our Frederik" was Denmark's most eligible bachelor at the time. Fast-track to 2005, and she's married to the fella and one of Denmark's most talked about women. A quick scan of the magazine racks in Copenhagen's Central station highlighted just how popular this woman has become.....from the headline screaming out the word's "Skandal" and "Schok" in "Mary's familien" to the pictures of her holding a baby (presumable evidence of her desire for motherhood), it is clear she is quite the Danish Superstar - right up there with Hans Christian Anderson and Aqua ("Barbie Girl").

With a few hours left to kill, I decided to pop over to Sweden for the afternoon - as you do After a quick ride on the train across the 7.8km Oresund bridge, I arrived in Malmo, where I spent a few hours exploring the Gamla Staden (old town) and the city parks which surround Malmo's little castle.

The next morning I headed to Slotsholmen, the present day site of the Danish government, and site of the former Royal Palace, Christiansborg. Feeling uninspired to pay more money to see another load of overly ostentatious reception chambers, I instead went for a walk through the charming Rosenborg Slot (Palace) gardens, and wound my way down to Amalienborg Palace, for the Changing of the Guards before continuing on to get a close-up look at the extremely poxy Little Mermaid Statue, and the hoardes of people clambering it over for that special Kodak moment.

In the afternoon I wandered across to Christianshavn to visit "The Free State of Christiania". Christiania was set up in the 70s as a "semi-utopian" community, which was self-governing, environmentally friendly, and free of the capitalist constraints of the then government. Even today, it remains tax-free and rent-free for its residents, and is a nice change from the fast pace of the rest of Copenhagen. After passing through the gate to "The Free State", the colour and liveliness of the place became apparent....unfortunately, so did the size of the mangy dogs (the mangiest I've seen since visiting Cambodia!), so I promptly departed through the gate, which warned me that "(I was) now entering the European Union" - truly scary stuff hey?

On my final morning in Copenhagen I visited the National Museum, to brush up on my Danish history (yeah, it's still pretty shoddy), before lunching at a quaint little cafe downtown. "Ida Davidson" is apparently "the best place in the world" to sample smorrebrod, Denmark's gourmet specialty. Smorrebrod is essentially an open-faced rye bread concoction, which can be topped with anything from roast beef to fjord prawns, and garnished with whatever you like! I settle for carpaccio beef, topped with a wonderfully bitey mustard, and some salad....boring?? Hell no....absolutely scrumptious....and yeah, at 12Euro, well you'd be jolly well hoping so!!

So now, back to life in Dublin for another month, then onward to England for a while!

Let me know what ye are all up to!

Adios

Belinda xo

Wonderful Copenhagen remains copyright of the author Backpasher, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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So....after a wonderfully long soujourn in Oz and SE-Asia, I arrived back in Ireland mid-March to a city revved up for St Patrick's Day - the centre of Dublin was absolutely mad....never before have I seen so many viking hats, green t-shirts, and wannabe leprechauns in my life! Nor have I ever seen so many ludicrously langered (heavily inebriated) teenagers before 10 in the morning, staggering about the town, engaging in reverse-peristaltis while their good mates tried to prevent them from passing out into/falling asleep in the deposits they left behind.....And goodness gracious me, if you ever need a fix of American marching bands (gotta love a bit of baton-twirling once in a while), St Patrick's Day in Dublin, is the place to be. Nah, Paddy's was great craic, a little on the hectic side, but a whole lot of fun and a great experience.

Who exactly was St Patrick anyway.... I was a tad disappointed to hear that my childhood visions of a holy most-excellently bearded bloke, wielding a wooden staff to ward off the snakes, was a little off the mark. Turned out that St Paddy arrived in Ireland in AD432. He was apparently born in Scotland (though the Welsh, of course, dispute this claim), and arrived in Ireland after being kidnapped by Irish pirates (Arrrr!). He became a slave and was resigned to a life of tending sheep. He then became a Christian, returned to Blighty for a stint, and then hoofed on back to Ireland, after a prophetic vision instructed him to convert everyone in Ireland to Christianity....

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Now skipping forward a few weeks to the Easter long weekend (a good opportunity to avoid the weekendly influx of hen/stag nights from La Terre de Pomme!!)...so my buddy Dean (yet another deserter from the Dublin fold) and I decided to head off to the West. So off it was to Killarney town, the base for exploration of the Iveragh Peninsula (i.e. the Ring of Kerry). Upon arrival in Killarney, we went in search of some tucker....only to find that the only thing we could get anywhere was fish!!! Apparently it's a Good Friday thing.....no beef, chicken, turkey, pork etc.....just fish!!!!! Very strange indeed. And would you believe that all the pubs were closed! Wow......really crazy. After a good feast on very boney fish, we hired some bikes (a slight improvement on the dodgy gearless Chinese bicycles I was cruising round rice paddies on in Laos) and headed for the nearby Killarney National Park. The park is a vast, resplendent, glacially carved out area, with large lakes, monastic sites, the impressive Ross Castle (the last in Munster to fall to Oliver Cromwell's army), ginormous trees covered in lichen, and mad-cyclists hooning around on their ten-speeders. There are also magnificient views of Ireland's highest mountain range - the Macgillycuddy's Reeks - of course we would have climbed up them all, if not for the dire dire weather.

The next day was spent on a bus tour (cringe!!) around the Iveragh Peninsula (aka the Ring of Kerry). Our bus driver, lets call him Seamus (as I can't recall his name), was as mad as a tellytubby overdosed on RedBull, and his driving reflected this. To be fair, the roads around the Ring of Kerry are rather hammered from the frequent flow of tour-buses all day long plying the road, but when you're whizzing around a hair-pin curve at 100miles/hr on a pock-marked, narrow road, one must question the sanity of the driver. The Ring of Kerry was all that one would expect though - beautiful, green, rainy and loaded with sheep and Kerry cows. From the ROK, I bussed up to delightful Dingle peninsula where I cycled out to the most Westerly point in Ireland all around the western part of Dingle - full of yellow flowers, bleeting mad sheep, hair-pin curves, and cottages set in the midst of limestone fenced green fields.

• *****************************************************************************

Another couple weeks passed.....same old same....( work, shopping, eating out, rock-climbing, movies, etc....) before yet another bank holiday weekend in May, where four of us chicks (3 Aussies and Pommie!) headed down to The People's Republic of Cork! Cork is the biggest county in Ireland, and home to lots of pretty green (and sometimes rocky) wide-open spaces, sheep, locals withsome of the most lovely lilting accents in the world (though at times ya need to listen really hard to understand them hey) and tourists who fancy themselves as being exceedingly eloquent after having kissed the Blarney stone! Funnily enough, there doesn't seem to be any cork anywhere in sight! We were in Cork during the accession of 10 countries (namely Cyprus, Malta, Slovenia, Poland, Hungary, Slovakia, Czech Republic, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania) to the EU, so were lucky to miss the madness going on back in Dublin's fair city (anti-globalisation protests run by groups such as the funnily named/dressed Wombles of Wimbledon). Whilst in Cork, we caught a cab out to see Blarney Castle. The Blarney stone is a chip of the Scottish stone of Scone that was presented to the King of Munster in thanks for his support during a 14th century rebellion. Apparently the hygiene of the stone is questionable (all the locals will tell you this), so my attempt at bending over (held by the ankles and dangling down a little gap) was a little half-hearted. We also meandered round the University College of Cork grounds, drove out to Cobh (pronounced "Cove", the last port of call for the Titanic before it sunk), and cruised around West Cork for the day. According to my guidebook, West Cork was once the "badlands" of Ireland; its ruggedness and isolation rendered it lawless and largely uninhabitible. It's now home to loads of farms, holiday cottages and lovely beaches. It's very pretty and a nice (mostly) chilled out place to spend a few days.

On my second last weekend in Ireland (another bank holiday weekend, you see the bankers work really hard in Ireland so they need loads of holidays), I finally made it across to the splendid Aran Islands, off the west coast of Ireland, with my long-time dear friend, Katherine, yet another antipodean who has relocated to the Northern Hemisphere. We stopped overnight in Galway, "the fastest growing city in Europe" (apparently!), where we visited The Crane (a good trad pub), and got romanced by the 82 year old Sean, the most famous locksmith in town, and a man who fancies himself as quite the Tangoist, when he's not doing a little Samba on the side. From here we caught a ferry out to Inish more, the largest and most heavily populated of the Aran Islands (a grand total of 700 people live here, and about 50,000 sheep!) and spent the day cycling all around the place. The Aran islands were absolutely delightful, full of green fields, sheer limestone cliff faces tumbling into the rough Atlantic below, ancient forts, monastic sites where early Irish Christians settled to attain spiritual seclusion, old fellas giving tourists rides around the island in wagons towed by ponies, quaint little cottages, and a few quite nice beaches.

And then finally my last weekend in Dublin.....not too shabby, though exhausting! After starting to pack up my gear last week, I realized that I had accumulated a disgraceful amount of gear.....so much so that I had to leave 2 big bag fulls of gear in Dublin, and still pay an excess on my luggage allowance...grrrr. Went to the RHCP/T(h)rills/Pixies concert on the Sat night with everyone else in the country........a little hectic being sandwiched in with 100,000 other people but good fun nonetheless.

For now I've moved on to the wonderfully grand city of Edinburgh. Who knows how long I'll be here. At the moment I'm looking for a new job, not to mention a home. I'm also heading off to Norway in 4 days for a quick holiday. Apparently Norway is more expensive than Ireland - could this possibly be so?!?!?!

To finish up, I'd like to say thanks to all who were part of my Dublin experience - I miss you guys!!! Especially thanks to Dean, Ken, Jo, Julie, Regina, and the rest of the Abbey gang, the Saffas, and of course all you chicks from the South Western Area Health Board! 'T'as been grand sharing the experience with you all...I'll be back soon enough I'm sure.

Anyway, must finish up, the chick at the library is evil-eyeing me, which means I have to get off the free internet service.....Hope this email finds all of you happy and well. Again, sorry for the disgraceful lag between emails.....ah well. Let me know if any of you are going to be up/over this way soon. Would be delighted to put any (? ok so most) of you up for a few nights....when I get a place that is!

Slainte

Love Belinda xox

Da Last Tree Monts remains copyright of the author Backpasher, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Well after a couple of weeks of

"TheweatherhasbeensolovelyIalmostforgotIwasabouttoenteranorthernhemispherewinter", we're having a rainy day in Dublin. I'm actually well acclimatized to the cold and a balmy 8 degrees has no longer become something to write home about (which is of course why I'm doing it! hey?). In spite of all one hears about how shocking the weather is here, I think Sydney gets a hell of a lot more rain than Dublin (when we're not having a drought!). But then El Nino has gone a little nuts these days with his ambitious efforts to spread the good weather love all around......

For this email, I've decided to give you the LONG and SHORT versions (a-la-Leighton - Lord of the Castle and close friend of Paz Thakra - Cantrill). I was recently informed my emails are at times, nauseatingly long, hence the attempted succinctness.

SHORT VERSION
Since my arrival back from Croatia.....I have:

• Spent a weekend in Galway and visited the spectacular Cliffs of Moher and the Burren (lots of rocks speckled across the countryside) in County Clare with a tour guide who liked to perseverate (i.e. he had to say everything twice, say everything twice - "Soon we will stop for lunch. We will stop for lunch. You can get chips for €2. Did you hear you can get chips for €2?!" Jill [old uni friend] was on the verge of going "postal" but after those €2 chippies was able to regain some composure).

• Had some old school friends visit - Aimee, Claire, Suz and Zelda (all ex-Avondaleans) - very delighted to see some old mates, even if they did drag me along to the Arlington to watch the Irish dancing!

• Been enjoying the Rugby (nothing like being abroad to reignite the patriotic passions for sport) and spent many an hour at the pub (the Irish equivalent of the beach - without the sun, salt, sea, sand and seedbags in lairy dacks and speedos, and with a lot more pasty yobbos) with the antipodean delegation supporting the Wally-bies. Still a little disappointed with the loss - it seemed the whole of Ireland was barracking for the Aussies - not a lot of love between the Poms and Irish even now.

• Moved out of my home and back into the hostel (just til I leave) as Claire and Andrew (Saffas) left today to go to the US. I am yet to rid myself of the mandatory "Hey" that Saffas put at the end of every single sentence (I won't even get started on all the "just now" and "now now" business, let alone the "Shaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaame" and the "Isit").

• Spent a weekend in Edinburgh on a reconnaissance mission (planning to move there next year) with my Aussie mates Anthony and Dean, and a new recruit Alana. It's absolutely gorgeous....(oh and you don't have to stare constantly at the pavement so as to avoid the bubbly globs of saliva that Irish men so like to propel out of their "mouts") we did a Ghouls and Ghosts tour with Spooky Dave, climbed the mountain to Arthur's seat, visited Edinburgh castle and ate some HAGGIS!! miam miam.....

• Finally visited Kilmainham Gaol - originally a gaol for thieving types (i.e. those poor bastards who got shipped out to Australia for stealing a pint of Guinness) - but later used as a prison for political ratbags such as James Connolly, Michael Collins, Padraig Pearse (Easter Rising chaps).

• Survived the knacker (think scary scary Westies to the power of 10) enslaught at the Smithfield ice skating rink - only a few war wounds to prove that I was "skating like I meant it".

That's pretty much it!

As for the next few weeks.......I'm hoping to still make it to the Ring of Kerry but am fast running out of time, I'm off to Paris (yet again) with some fellow antipodeans, and will be leaving Dublin just after Xmas.

As of this week, my itinerary for the next few months post-Xmas is as follows:

- a few days in Munich and surrounds
- Singapore
- a diving course in the Tioman islands (off SE coast of peninsular Malaysia)
- Penang
- KL
- Melbourne for my sister's wedding
- road-trip round Tassie for a week (in search of the famous two-headed Taswegian)
- Sydney for a few weeks
- Laos for a month
- Dublin for a couple months
- Edinburgh

Life's tough hey?

All of the above is liable to change in the next few days/weeks....but will keep you posted!

Will send the long version "just now" (translation - maybe today, maybe next week, or maybe when the Garda National Immigration Bureau start sticking up my picture on telegraph poles around town)...

Ciao

Love Belinda
xoxo

Belinda's boring catch-up remains copyright of the author Backpasher, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Well I've finally made it to Croatia....I say finally because a) I'd wanted to come here for 3 or 4 yrs now, and b) when I went to check-in at Dublin airport, I wasn't sure I would even make it here! At check-in, they did the standard pass-port/ baggage check etc. and then asked if I had a visa for Czech Republic, as I had to fly via Prague. No.....of course i didn't as I was only transitting and my final destination doesn't have visa requirements!!! They said that it could be a problem as many Aussies had been deported from Czech recently because of visa problems.....and then phoned through to some immigration official in Prague to check with him/her. Finally I got the OK and went on to the boarding gate, where they called my name over the loud speaker and went through exactly the same rigmarole....so I was very grateful when I finally got on the plane in Prague for Split, on the Central coast of Dalmatia in Croatia....As far as I understand, there is actually no significant Dalmatian population on the central-south coast of Croatia, the name rather derives from the Illyrian word for brave and strong man...or something like that! Still, you can buy postcards with the mandatory adorable spotty dog from all the suvenijri shops.

I was delighted to finally arrive in Split (about 8 hours after leaving Dublin) and after clearing customs in about 5 seconds (I think Australia is actually the only country that cares about that sorta stuff), I headed into town courtesy of a German tourist bus full of 80 year old retirees.....it was either that or wait for 2 hours til midnight! I had planned to head straight to the hotel, but couldn't find the jolly place (the old town of Split is quite a beautiful maze of alley ways) so had a late night roam about the marble-paved remnants of Diocletian's palace, admiring the ancient alley-ways, columns, arches and campaniles. Under the streetlights, the marble glistens brightly, as though it's just been polished...charming...

After staying in a characterless squat of a hotel, I found a private room to stay in the next day (literally a room in someone's house they offer for travellers to stay in), with a marvellous view of the cathedral, eastern city gate and campanile (the bells of which awoke me each morning at a ridiculous 6am!!!!). Aside from the spectacular view, it was a great location as it was actually within the walls of the former palace of Diocletian (Roman Emperor 245-312AD). The old town is now the central tourist area of Split, full of quaint cafes, chic boutiques and splendid ruins....some are actual built into the remains of the palace, but over the centuries more buildings have been added so the city has an interesting blend of architecture from different eras.

I spent Sunday doing a walk around the Marjan peninsula to the west of Split city. The peninsula is the location of Split city's beachside villages, charming little stone villages and churches, and local sculptor, Mestrovic's wooden life-of Christ reliefs, inside a little castle (the Kastelet). The peninsula is also a favourite place for the Splicani (locals) to ride their bikes, roller-blade or scoot around, and then stop in the little rocky coves for a swim in the crystal blue waters of the Adriatic.

Denise (mum) flew in from Australia on Monday so it was great to finally see her after 4 months of being away from home! I met her at Split airport, and after a long lunch and a mandatory gelato (truly divine stuff!), we did a quick wander about Diocletian's palace, visiting the Peristyle (central courtyard of the old palace), vestibule (where subjects used to wait before meeting Diocletian), cryptoporticus (great gallery where the dude used to go strolling up and down), and Cathedral of St Domnius (Domnius was actually martyred by Diocletian, who used to make a sport of persecuting the Christians of the time). The Cathedral was originally the mausoleum of Diocletian, but after his body disappered from here in the 18th century, it became a place of worship (and more recently, tourism).

On Tuesday wa took a bus out to the ruins of Salona, just to the north west of Split. Salona was once the capital of Dalmatia and the likely birthplace of Diocletian. It was home to more than 60 000 people and n important centre of Christianity for the time. Here you can see stretches of a large aqueduct, a necropolis, basilica, and amphitheatre. From here we took a bus out to the ancient Greek city of Trogir (300c BC) where we wandered through the marble paved streets and visited the Romanesque cathedral, Cipiko Palace (a gothic mansion which is now home to the tourist bureau), the town loggia (with a pretty clock tower and classical columns), Pinakoteka (church of John the Baptist with the mandatory Madonna and child iconic painting), Kamerlengo fortress, Marmont's Gloriette and St Mark's Tower.

On Wednesday we took a boat out to the island of Brac, the third largest in the Adriatic. The island is famous for its marble which was used for the building of the Reichstag in Berlin, the US White House and Diocletian's palace. All over the island you see fields of olive vines, orange trees and marble clumps which have been stacked up high to clear space for agriculture. We took a bus across to the town of Bol, a lovely beach resort famed for it's Zlatni rat (golden cape), a shingle beach jutting out into the ocean on a small sliver of pine covered land. It's meant to rate in the top 10 beaches in the world (according to Lonely PLanet) and it is undeniably beautiful - the water is a transluscent azure - but i dunno about lying around on pebbles!! From there we took the bus back to the port of Supetar, (home to a village of mottled stone houses squatting around the moon shaped harbour), where we wandered about the village before taking the ferry back to Split.

We spent Thursday morning looking at the archaeological museum of Split, with a good mix of Roman, Greek and Illyrian artefacts (urns, jewellery, columns, reliefs, busts etc), and admiring more of the old town (in between shopping) before taking an afternoon ferry across to the island of Hvar, where we are now....

Some things I've learnt about Croatia since I've been here.....when someone greets you with "Bog", they are actually saying hello, not telling you to find the nearest public toilet. The word for pig is "svinjska" (just like swine!) and very useful if you don't eat piggy. Noone ever eats here.....you can go from cafe to cafe to cafe, and people are just drinking....pivo (beer), kava mijelko (like a macchiato and very very potent), or caj (tea), which is why the locals are so damn skinny!! When they do actually eat, it's always very healthfully cooked fish or pizza (delicate base, no oil, plenty of veges).

What else, the young men are much better looking than the lads in Ireland, though i think all the men over 50 have names like Sergio, Damir and Stavros (just the open shirt, hairy chest, bejewelled fingers look - reminiscent of Ben Kingsley in Sexy Beast). The best mode of transport is the Vespa.....And everyone is obsessed with soccer!!!! I think a dislike of soccer here would be a ticket to social ostracision....you'd be a complete leper.

Anyway, Hvar town is a lovely Adriatic resort town full of international sailing boats, German tourists (everyone presumes we're German!!) with overly sun-tanned skin and dowdy 1980s swimsuits, waterfront cafes and pizzerias, and stalls selling lavender.......

Will finish this up later....

need to go grab some lunch (pizza and icecream) before heading out on the afternoon ferry to Korcula island...

Ciao!

Belinda

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Since last writing I've done three trips abroad! The first was a weekend in London at the beginning of August, 3 weeks ago I finally made it to Belfast, and then last weekend I zipped over to Paris!

I'd spent a week in London nearly 6 years ago, and had considered it my LEAST favourite city.....I thought perhaps a few years (on both London and my parts) would maybe change my perceptions of the city. My memories were of a ginormous, filthy, bleak metropolis, where it rained constantly, everything was overpriced, people were boxed into the tube like battery chickens and where service with a smile was a foreign concept.

So maybe it's not that bad.....for starters, I had a weekend of brilliant sunshine. I arrived in London on the tail end of one of the hottest fortnights on record. People were flailing about in the 39 celcius heat, turning into lobsters as they laid out to roast in Hyde, St James' and Regent's Parks (Hyde Park looking a little lunar with all the grass having shrivelled up and died), and the tube was like an underground sauna complex. And aside from the grime, crowds (I almost took up claustrophobia) and frowns.....oh and did I mention exorbitant prices (£12 for a B-grade movie in Leicester Square!!!), I did have a grand time.

As I had spent my time in London back in 1997, racing about to see all the main sights, I didn't have a full agenda of sightseeing to do. So I went and checked out the places I had missed last time) such as Lord's Cricket Ground, Abbey Road recording studios, Covent Garden Markets, Milennium Bridge, London Eye and Tate Modern Gallery.

I started off heading up to Lord's cricket ground (I'm not even going to try and explain cricket to the Yanks, and Europeans on his list!) where I took a 2hr tour of the grounds, under the guidance of a South African, who had the charisma of Mr Bean's forlorn teddy! Anyway, it was quite cool to go into the members stands, wander round the grounds, and check out the museum - got to see the Ashes too!!! They gave Bradman a good rap (well deserved), and provided us with a good overview of the history of cricket in England and across the globe, before taking us off to the Real (Royal) Tennis courts and letting us watch professional Real players strut their stuff on the courts.

In case you ever wondered, the reason they say "Love" when the score is zero, well an egg is about the same shape as a zero, the French word for egg is "l'oeuf"(spelling?), and with an anglicized twang on the word, makes it sound rather like "love". And why on earth do they count up 0-15-30-40??? Well again, in French, you would count "l'oeuf, quinze (15) , trente (30), quarante-cinq (45)". The Poms thought the 45 was too difficult to pronounce so decided to use quarante (40) instead - lazy!! Anyway, it was interesting, but it just wasn't cricket!!

After Lords, I wandered up the road to the nearby Abbey Rd recording studios. I'm not hugely up on my Beatles trivia, but I think this is where they cut their first LP - i could be completely wrong so apologies to Beatophiles......There is a whole big graffiti wall there where people from all over the world pay kudos to the Beatles. Of course i did the Beatles walking across the road thing along with all the other tourists.

From their I made a quick dash to Euston station to catch up with Leighton (Cantrill, some of you would know) for a brief lunch before he knicked off to Manchester for the weekend. And then set off again for an afternoon of sightseeing, stopping for a quick look around Covent Garden Market (a stack of high fashion shops, art and craft stalls, restaurants, cafes etc), St Paul's Cathedral (built 1710 by Christopher Wren, wedding place of Charles and Di, I THINK it's the 2nd biggest in the world), and then crossed the Milennium Bridge (recently reopened after reconstruction to stop in shaking about in the wind) over the algae-coated Thames to the Tate Modern gallery. The gallery is housed in what used to be a large power station. It has a grand collection of works by artists such as Gilbert and George (after whom my green tree frogs mascots were named), Dali, Picasso, Warhol, Matisse and Kandinsky. Really teriffic collection and it's free!!!!! A lot of cool stuff in London is free thankfully, which makes up for the ridiculous amounts you have to pay on food, accommodation etc etc.

I then met up with some friends from Oz, Susan (Holloway) and Lynelda at Victoria, and we grabbed some delicious Italian food.

I spent Saturday morning and afternoon doing a quick whiz around town admiring the sights of Buckingham Palace (didn't see old Lizzy or those wretched corgies this time - last time, by pure chance, we saw her twice on consecutive days!!), strolling along the stinky Thames between the Tower of London/Tower Bridge, and Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament, had a picnic lunch in the park with Suz, Zelda and her man (2 thumbs up!), had a look at Kensington Palace and Royal Albert Hall, went for a stroll down Oxford St for some serious WINDOW shopping, and sauntered through the enormous Hyde Park and watched the Poms at play on the paddle-boats on the Serpentine (big snake-like lake). Dinner in Leicester Square - couldn't really fork out the money for the theatre which was a bummer, but nice Italian food (again) never hurts!

Back to London on the Sunday and I moved in with some South Africans I met at the hostel. Really great people, though they have very peculiar accents and reckon their rugby/cricket teams are better than ours.....

Anyway, a couple of weekends ago I made it up to Belfast. Once I eventually got there (train broke down and they shunted us on to buses which arrived 2 hours later than expected!!! I headed out for a wander around town.

I wandered down to the impressive City Hall at Donegal Square, then checked out St Anne's Pro-cathedral with its impressive Gertrude Stein mosaics, and ginormous British flags hanging from the ceiling. I was amused to learn that St Anne's patron saints and two little teddy bears called Patrick and Anne, and that the church has a tradition of collecting donations using Black Santas. The tradition started in 1926, when the then Dean, got a wooden barrel and sat out on the cathedral steps collecting donations whilst wearing his black clerical cloak (his long fluffy beard scored him the nicname of Santa.

Aside from that and a little shopping (naturally), I spent my time looking around the Catholic and Protestant parts of town. I'd kinda got a taste for how crazy the Catholic/Protestant deal was, when we drove around the North at the beginning of August. Not only are the Catholic and Protestant areas clearly demarcated by a huge wall (about 20ft or so high, made from corrugated-iron and covered in graffiti, but there are also gates that lock the areas off from each other. I think the need for this "peace wall" is taking Frosts' notion of "good fences mak(ing) good neighbours" to the extreme. The Protestant areas are plastered with Pommie flags, red, white and blue striped curbs, murals with images of William of Orange (the dude that lead to the defeat of the Catholic King in the Battle of the Boyne), The Apprentice Boys (the younguns who shut off the gates of Derry to keep out the Catholics in the 1689 siege), the Scottish Flag etc. I went for a walk through the Protestant area on the Saturday afternoon (apparently not always a good idea) and then back on the Black Taxi Tour the next day. The Catholic areas are a little more subdued, far fewer flags, and the murals have orange and green colours, the word "Saiorse" (Gaelic for Freedom)images of the British Bulldog, and pictures of the phoenix, a symbol of a united Ireland. The black taxi tour I did through teh Catholic and Protestant areas on Sunday was pretty cool - a convoy of about 5 cabs zoomed about 20 of us around town, stopping to look at all the murals, the peace line, memorials to various people who had died in the conflict etc....great commentary too, though the whole bollocks that has gone on up there is really beyond comprehension......people are still getting shot/assaulted, the hatred and criminality is rife.....really crazy stuff. The Bloody Sunday (Jan 1972) inquiry was reopened last year and is now into its 368th day!!

Back to Dublin....a fortnight ago, I headed over to the Chester Beatty Library - it won European Museum of the year in 2002. The museum is housed in the old clock tower of Dublin castle, and is the ginormous art collection of Beatty, a Canadian mining millionaire. It mostly contains Islamic and Far Eastern manuscripts and includes such exhibits as clay tablets from 2700BC Babylon, Japanese wood-block prints, Chinese books covered in Jade cases, and paintings from the Ottoman and Persian empires. It also has 250 Koranic manuscripts. Quite an interesting collection.

I had a quick trip to Paris last weekend with some Dublin-based Aussie friends. Did the usual sightseeing things like Eiffel Tower, Champs Elysees, Arc de Triomphe, Louvre, Notre Dame, Sacre Coeur and Monmartre etc, and also visited Les Egouts de Paris (Paris' sewer museum - fascinating little place. A tad stinky though!), Catacombs (more than 6 million people buried here from overflowing Parisian cemetaries), Cimetiere due Pere Lachaise (resting place of Jim Morrison, Edith Piaf, Chopin etc), the Latin Quarter (where we dined on Escargots, Raclette [essentially melted cheese poured on top of spuds] and Creme Brulee!), Marais quarter (gay and Jewish centres of Paris, also brilliant shops/cafes - ever tried a chili chocolate!?! Not bad!), Centre Pompidou, Jardin des Tuileries, Hotel des Invalides (Napoleon's resting place) etc.....Very quick trip and insanely busy but very enjoyable. Paris is such an unreal city - great sights, people, food and general ambience. Thinking about coming and living here for a while......improving my French, imbibing the atmosphere long term. Who knows though.....Many places to see, things to do.

I've also managed to meet up with some folks from back home - Aimee Harrison and Emily Butler, who were in town for the weekend after doing a tour round Ireland - and Leighton and Sara Cantrill, who were Ireland for about 5 days the other week.

So for this week it's boring old work for me, and then i'm heading off to Croatia next Saturday for 2 weeks!! Can't wait. My mum is flying over to meet me so it'll be great to catch up with her and spend some time travelling down the Adriatic coast....

Ciao

Belinda

xoxo

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The job is going quite well and i'm enjoying the challenges of managing a small caseload of kiddies, and hanging out drinking coffee with the girls and guys at work. Ok, so I don't want to make it sound too cruisy, because it certainly is not. However, the amount of time the Irish spend on 'breaks' proportionate to the amount of time they spend actually working is insane! No wonder the economy is sliding back down after the Celtic boom of more recent years. My working day runs from 9 to 5, with an official 15min coffee break and 1hr15mins for lunch!! crazy.....they are also very flexible with the hours. You can rock up at 10 if you like, and finish a little later, or dock some time off lunch break and have an even shorter day! Still, I'm flat out all day seeing clients, doing admin etc. I'm certain the stress levels in this country are about half that of Oz.

Things are generally chilled out here...plodding even...You see the plodding effect when you hit the shops or a restaurant. If you want to go clothes shopping, you will spend 10mins waiting to be served, even if there is only one person in queue in front of you! And this is after you've already queued for 10 mins to get into the change room!

I'm still living at the youth hostel in town, but may be moving out with some South Africans (Saffas) I met at the hostel next week. It's a little less central than where I am now but a good deal cheaper. For the most part, the hostel is a lot of fun as you're always meeting new people and there's always something to do. Though it can get expensive and tiring as you end up going out at least 5 nights a week and getting an average of 6hrs sleep a night. And until last week I had to share a room with a girl with foot odour problem. My goodness, you'd think the poor lass' mother would have told her. I'd walk in at night, and walk back out again it was so bad. She actually manages to clear the whole tv room with her smelly feet. Seriously gross stuff. I've moved rooms now thank goodness!

A couple of weekends ago, I went with a group of a half dozen Aussies to see the peculiar Gaelic sport of hurling - not of the technicolour yawning kind either!! Hurling was an early version and blend of hockey and lacrosse. You have 2 fifteen-a side teams, and the sport is played on a rectangular field. The objective of the tame is to try and hit a baseball sized ball with the 'caman' (hurley stick), over the crossbar (goalposts) or into the net below. Players can whack the ball along the ground, hit it it through the air or balance it on the broad mit of the stick. They also seem to be quite fond of giving each other a good belt. It's a fast and furious game, and we had a great time. We actually got tix for the quarter finals so the level of play was pretty awesome even though it's kinda hard to follow what's going on all the time cause it's sooooooo fast.

I spent last weekend driving round Northern Ireland with two Aussies I met at the hostel. We had planned to catch a train up to Belfast for the weekend and spend the whole time there but at the last minute decided the flexibility of having a car would be much better so wound up hiring a VW Golf for the weekend and not actually making it to Belfast, aside from the skirting around the edge of the city we did on our way to the North coast.

On the way to the north, we stopped to have a look at Newgrange, home to one of the most significant Stone Age sites in Europe. Unfortunately the place was crawling with package tourists, and us travellers were told we couldn't possible do the 'tour' for another 3-4 hours!! Grrr, disappointed, we kept driving north til we spotted the ruins of a castle tower in someone's paddock beside the motorway. So of course we snuck in to have a look, first running and jumping on the huge rolled up hay bales scattered across the field, and then climbing the tower for a nice view over the countryside, and of course the rest of the property in case the farmer came a-running with his pitchfork!

We had the impression that the border crossing would involve some sort of police check, and there'd be some scary looking military dudes with their AK-47s, so we strategically poised the camera to film any shenanigans that would arise. Sadly, we didn't even realize when he had crossed the border as there's not even a sign to let you know!! The only way of really knowing is by looking at the roadsigns which are no longer printed bilingually in Gaelic and English.

As you get a few k's into N Ireland, it becomes a little more obvious you're in another country due to the vast number of flags and painted road-curbs proclaiming individual's loyalties to the Union (Brits) or the Republic. You drive through one town, to see it plastered with the Union Jack, flag of England, and red, white and blue stripes on the curbs. And then the next town has the Orange, green and white of the Irish Republic flag. Other towns have a good mixture, but typically the territories are clearly demarcated.

Upon hitting the north coast we hiked along the cliffs of Fair Head, from where you can see across to bonny Scotland. Along the cliffs here which in some points drop straight into the sea, are cahrming wildflower meadows, and paddocks of sheep, cows and the odd bull. After the long walk out to the headland we decided it would be easier to cut through the fields, and had fun rounding up the sheep in the paddock, and running away from the bulls when they got a little grumpy (don't think they like purple coats so much!). We then drove around to Ballycastle, at the mouth of the glens of Glenshesk and Geltaisie, and stopped for a while at Ballintoy harbour, where a lot of artists hang out to paint the "dark rock-strewn strand" which contrasts peculiarly with the pale-stone breakwater. We finished off the evening with a hearty meal of fish 'n' "chippies" (as they insist on calling them regardless of age/sex/status). We wound up camping somewhere along the coast for free because we checked in too late to register, and drove off in the wee hours of the morning so we could make the most of our day

We hit Carrick-a-rede (meaning "rock in the road") the next morning where you get to walk across an 80ft above-the-sea rope plank bridge. The bridge connects the mainland with a small island which used to be home to a salmon fishery. The views from here were really lovely, and the bridge, potentially scary when the wind picks up a bit. On the day we were there, however, the water was glassy enough for water skiing so the fear factor was a little absent. Still, nice place.

Next we made our pilgrimage to the Giant's Causeway, where the three of us blew £20 on a top-notch breakfast at a posh hotel (hey we got free parking out of it!). The causeway is pretty impressive and definitely worth the efforts to get up there if you're ever over in Ireland. If you haven't seen pics before in national geographic or on the discovery channel, it's has quite a lunar feel to it, and as W Thackeray said, 'When the world was moulded and fashioned out of formless chaos, this must have been the bit over - a remnant of chaos.'. It is thought that the causeway was formed over time through volcanic eruptions, and the subsequent cooling of the lava into basalt hexagonal stepping stones which cascade down into the ocean. There are estimated to be some 40,000 of these stone columns stackd in together. According to ancient Gaelic legends, the causeway was obviously built by the giants, under the guidance of Finn McCool (they named a Maccas burger after him!!), the warrior and commander of the king of Ireland's armies. "Finn could pick thorns out of his heels while running and was capable of amazing feats of strength. Once, during a fight with a Scottish giant, he scooped up a huge clod of earth and flung it at his fleeing rival. The clod fell into the sea and turned into the Isle of Man".

After the causeway we cruised along the scenic coast to the surfing beaches of Portstewart and Portrush - a little too cold for a dip though. Nice place to sleep for a bit though as the sun was shining briliiantly that afternoon. Must have hit 24! The locals were going nuts, sweating like pigs and wiping their brows etc..... Then we continued along to the beaches and cliffs at Benone beach, from where you have spectacular views out to the Inishowen peninsula of county Donegal (part of the republic), and where you can drive your car for 12km along the beach! Good fun though we almost took the car swimming at one point - male drivers, i dunno!!

From there we stopped at the 18th century estate of Downhill, where we visited the Mussenden Temple (sitting directly at the edge of a cliff overlooking a beach - stunning views), and ruins of the Downhill palace. Really really nice joint they used to have there and incredible scenery.

We stopped in Derry (or if you're a Pom, Londonderry) for the night. The drive into town was kinda fun. As we hit the town periphery, we saw the usual flag propaganda, but to add to that, the military were doing a police check, oversized guns and all. They were clearing out some cars looking for dodgy people and weapons etc..... Anthony (one of my Aussie mates) took the Steve Irwin approach by putting on his most ocker Queensland accent and "G'day"-ing them. Worked a treat as they just waved us on through.

Apparently things are pretty calm now in Derry, although all the guidebooks warn firmly about parking your car in the wrong place, perchance some Brit-mad local notices your licence plates and decides to do in your windows with a golfstick. No probs though - car was in good nick when we went to drive off the next day.

We spent the morning walking about the 17th century old walls and touring the "Bloody Sunday" sites. Derry is the only remaining completely walled off city in Ireland and has provided the barricade to numerous sieges over the years between the Irish and the Brits. More than thirty years after the Bloody Sunday massacre (30 Jan 1972), the guys responsible for the deaths of the 17 victims (most of them very young with no previous major political associations) have not been brought to justice. Tony Blair reopened the inquiry into the massacre a few years ago, so it is hoped that the families of the victims will be delivered some sort of justice, but why exactly it still hasn't happened is unfathomable. There are several interesting murals painted on the walls around town exemplifying the brutalities and injustices of the massacre, and flags flying all over town proclaiming allegiances. Not far from the massacre site, there are even Palestinian flags flying high above the buildings, indicative of their empathy for the Palestinian cause. In other parts of town, the allegiance to the British empire is obvious with red white and blue stripes on the street curbs, flags flying etc.

After the main sightseeing, we decided to do some shopping (as you do) and found that you could buy BB guns (i think that's their name, anyway the rubber bullet ones?) in several shops around town. we went in and checked some of the places out;. apparently it is considered perfectly normal to sell them to 7 year olds wearing dog collars and with blue mohawks on the tops of their heads. We even got some footage of em running about town shooting at each other with these bullets. Crazy crazy stuff going on in this world! noone else seemed to bat and eyelid though!

Ok, so i never finished this off last week.....update.....

Spent all this last week at the hostel. Same old same, hanging out with the foreign legion etc. Have decided to move into the Saffas as they have promised to cook me braii every night (a Saffa BBQ) Was also spurred on by a break-in to my room at the hostel the other night. Some jerk jumped in through the skylight and did a little damage to the room. As far as i know, nothing of mine was touched but he stole one of the girls' video cameras. Ill probably discover 2mths down the track that something or other is gone..... All my friends are getting motivated and moving out too so the social side of things isn't the same anymore.

I flew into London this evening for the weekend. Have planned for tomorrow to check out Wimbledon and Lords, have lunch with leighton cantrill (friend from Sydney), visit the Tate gallery in the arvo, and meet up with Suz and Zelda for dinner. Hoping to see some more friends on Sat but need to do some organizing between now and then.

Anyway, hope you're all in good shape, enjoying life (wherever you are) and keeping out of trouble - especially you pink ladies at the San!! hehe

Ciao

Love Belinda

P.S. I finally have an address for mailing. Any belated birthday presents can be sent here

Flat 72, 35 Mountjoy Square
Dublin 1
Ireland.

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Out of the 5 days I've been in town, about 3 have been moderately sunny so it was a pleasant welcome to this rainy city. Though the presence of the sunshine doesn't exactly equate to warmth. Summer began here just over a week ago and the locals are lapping it up. When I arrived on Wednesday, the thermometer must have hit about 20. So everyone seems to be cruising round in shorts and t-shirts like it's 40 degrees! Meanwhile, Belinda is shivering away in a jumper and jeans. Having come from a month in Asia, the weather was a bit of a shock - especially when you have in mind that it is SUMMER!

Dublin is really a very attractive city, and contrary to popular notions that it is packed with drunken yobbos, I haven't found it all that bad - so far. But then I've been going to bed pretty early. Well as early as humanly possible considering it is still light outside at 10.30 at night!!! And then the sun peeks its way out at around 4am. It's very disconcerting. I have no concept of what the time is here - aside from what my tummy tells me. Considering how expensive the food is here, my tummy tries not to tell me too much at all at the moment, but hey you gotta eat! If you use the McEconomic scale, Dublin is on par with the whole of Switzerland and London. One large Big Mac meal will set you back EUR5.90!!! Basically that's the same for everything here. Same price as in Aussie dollars but it's Euro. So a cup of coffee is EUR2.50, and a sandwich is at least €3 etc. The only cheap thing I've found so far is internet access at 60c an hour if you go early enough!

Something peculiar to Dublin is the overly peroxided ladies that hang about on the street corners of the inner city suburbs selling fruit from prams! I would never have thought to set up shop from the back of a pram, but it's not such a bad idea. Considering the number of young ladies with babies
here, I guess it makes sense. Whereas the chicky babes at home with small babies would tend to be in their early 30s, there are many girls who can't be more than early 20s carting their bubs around in prams. Must be the long cold winters!

So what have I been up to......not a lot. Aside from orienting myself (I have a shocking sense of direction as some of you will know - I get lost walking back to my hotel in the middle of the night in pretty much every place I go to), and finding all the good places to eat and shop (got a new
handbag, now need some new shoes), I've been searching for a place to live. At the moment I'm staying with Jill, a friend from uni in town, but will need to find something permanent before I start work, hopefully next week if everything goes to plans. I still have some paperwork to do that
I wasn't told about before I left home so it may be 2 weeks before I start working to teach these Irish folk how to speak properly!!!

I've heard people go on and on about the Irish accent and had expected to have far more difficulties but so far haven 't had too many problems. But then, I'm in the centre of town. I suspect that when I start working, I'll have an interesting time. Where I'll be working is meant to have a pretty thick accent...so we'll see how it goes.

I spent yesterday in Kilkenny, purported to be the most beautiful medieval town in Ireland. It is definately a lovely place to spend a day, and I enjoyed visiting the Kilkenny Castle (nice but "same same" as all the other jolly ones I've been to!), St Canice's Cathedral and tower, Domincan Black
Abbey, Rothe House etc etc.....but best of all, found a delightful creperie, which has divine bruschetta and the ONLY Spanish Hot Chocolate in Ireland!!! Apparently the locals aren't big fans but it really is divine. I'm definitely going back to Kilkenny just to eat at this place! Any of you folks who make it over here.....we'll do lunch here. Really top stuff.

My last few days in Thailand were really great - though a tad on the lazy side. I met up with the American-Israeli guys I met snorkelling on Ko Phi Phi and spent the time with them - eating, shopping, eating (hey last chance for good banana smoothies), and more shopping - oh and running away from persistent tuk-tuk drivers and food vendors ("I'll get fat" seems to work). Phuket wasn't such a bad place either. I'd never seen myself going there because of its rep as a glitzy getaway for honeymooners and fat German tourists (not to forget those grotesque middle-aged men salivating over 14 yr old local girls). All of that is there...but being the off-season and with people staying at home because of SARs/terrorism, it was a little on the quiet side. Instead of having the beach chocker-block with portly
half-naked people sunning themselves on deckchairs, you had a beach of half-empty deckchairs - and not so many half-naked people. Plenty of beach vendors were still in force however trying to sell sarongs, ice-creams, drinks, fruit etc etc. Burying your face in whatever book you are reading when you see them coming seems to work though - even if you are very obvious about it!!

Not much planned for the next few days. I need to do the house-hunting thing, and might even squeeze in a bit of sightseeing too - considering i'm in a rather groovy city and all that....When going out for dinner the other night, I walked kinda straight past Trinity College without even batting an
eyelid - hey I was tired after flying and waiting for nearly 24hrs!! Shame shame....

Anyway, it is very nice to be in a big city again with hot water (forgotten how nice a hot shower was), flushing toilets and a relatively organised public transport system...at least I hope so! Though I will definitely miss the steamy Asian weather, beautiful beaches, cheap tasty food, hassle and groovy people I met along the way.

Gotta go - more house hunting to do.

Ciao

Love Belinda

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Hola.....

Back in beautiful Madrid! (actually I seem to be saying that about a lot of places but there are truly many beautiful places here and we have visited many).

I left Paris on Wed morning after 6 fantastic days........Our last day there was mostly looking for postcards and souvenirs etc.... We also visited the Pere Lechaise Cemetary where you get to see the graves of folks like Jim Morrison (complete with lots of flowers and love poems written to him), Edith Piaf, Balzac, Chopin, Pisarro, and many others. Almost got locked in too as we arrived about 45 mins before closing time and the security guards came chasing us out the gates with stern warnings! In the evening we headed down to the non-existant Bastille, did some meandering around the Marais district (the centre of both Paris´ Jewish community and the its gay life - interesting combo!) and went to our favourite little Chinese restaurant just around the corner from the hotel. I tried to persuade Denise to try some escargots but she shuddered at the thought. I can´t say I blame her - for me it was absolutely a once off thing....maybe frog´s legs one day though.

Anyway, Denise had to fly out of Madrid yesterday so she came straight back down from Paris while I headed to San Sebastian (Donostia) in the heart of Basque country. This place is (wait for it...) extremely beautiful.....there is the old town with lots of great shops, bars and cafes, three impeccable beaches with REAL sand, and two mountains up each end of the beach strips which offer fantastic views over the beaches and the Bay of Biscay. I didn´t actually do much in San Seb but sit on the beach and squirm my toes in the sand whilst reading a travel guide, wander about the old town, eat some Tapas at this nice little bar we found opposite the main beach and scale the (smallish) mountain on the side near the hostel. There were a couple of Aussies at the hostel and we contemplated going for a swim out to the little island that is 500m out or so from the beaches, but the water was seriously icy - much colder than in winter back home. One of the girls from the hostel and I (she was actually from Sydney which is cool because no Aussies I have met thus far have been from anywhere but Melbourne, Brisbane or Perth!)..... caught a bus out to Bilbao (a dump) to see the Guggenheim collection. It houses a great collection of modern art and an exhibition of Frank Gehry´s architectural models and furniture. He also designed the museum which is in itself, a fantastic site! Outside the museum is a ginormous puppy dog statue (Jeff Koons designed it) which is covered in flowers and is quite fun.....Julia (Sydney girl) said it actually was in Sydney a couple of years back so maybe some of you saw it then....

Unfortunately no big riots or explosions when we were in San Seb - not that I really wanted one but it does sound a bit more exciting when you talk about your holiday. We did come across some tiny protest of about 60 people outside (presumably) some government official´s workplace.....the cops were there with those riot shields and batons and machine guns (serious!) but nothing eventuated as far as I know. I was a bit disappointed to not even hear a smidgen of Basque being spoken by the locals either.....Spanish everywhere......

Anyway......back in Madrid...I am staying at the hostel which is right up the other end of town from where we stayed before. Not sure what the place is like yet as I dumped my stuff off and headed into town. I was hoping to meet up with some Aussies for Australia day but the only guy I met at the hostel was a Pom! Then again, it was mid afternoon and everyone is out sightseeing etc as they should be. Tomorrow I am going to visit the Prado (last gallery for the trip!) as it is Sunday (free day), go to the bullring and walk around the Parc del Buen Retiro (a gorgeous park with an amazing fountain, some statues and lots of chi-chi mamas with their poodles!

I´m thinking about heading out to Salamanca on Monday but it is a three hour ride one way and I am going to be doing a heck of a lot of sitting between Tuesday and Thursday (on the plane) so that may not yet happen.....Avila is much closer and so maybe I will go there instead.

OK Well this is it for me........I have had a fantasitic 9 and a bit weeks but it will be sooooooooo nice to get home to some normal food, TV in English (although it is fun to try and translate), my family and friends (most of you anyway), and of course my cat! The poor little bugger won´t remember me!
Hasta luego!
Bel x

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I am back in beautiful Paris _ co,plete with strange keyboard configurations!

We decided on a whim to come here from Madrid on an overnight bus......sure; it got us here, but 16 hours on a bus qlmost completely full of skanky and smelly (or are the two mutually inexclusive?) men is not recommended.

Flicking through my trave guide we found a place on Rue de Rivoli, which is where the Louvre is; and connects onto the Champs Elysées and Arc de Triomphe. It is about as central you can get and is super value. We can see the Hotel de Ville from the window to our room. There is also a gorgeous carousel there and an ice_skating rink. Lots of streetside vendors selling crepes too....banana and nutella heaven. The night we got here we visited Centre Pompidou, a zanily designed building equipped with colourful pipes, a brilliant modern art museum and shops and restaurants.

Next day we visited the catacombs where some 6 million Parisiens were buried after the cemeteries became overcrowded. It is truly bizarre walking through corridor after corridor of bones and skulls! Also visited Saint Chapelle, an incredibly beautiful stained glass window rooved church. wandered up past Louvre; onto Champs Elysees; Notre Dame, and the island on which it is situated and visited the Australia shop where they sell vegemite and cherry ripe bars.

Spent Saturday in Brussels - contrary to what i had been told, it is auite a beautiful city but it rained most of the day which was a pain in the butt!

Sunday I was back in Paris....visited Hotel des Invalides which houses the French army museum and is adjoined to the over the top tomb of Napoleon in the Eglise de Dome. We came across the sewer museum but it was closed!

Today we went up to a huge big market place just north of Monmartre. It was full of interesting clothes and a fantastic antiques section but it is in one of the seedier parts of town and was pretty shabby. This qfternoon I wandered through the passages of the Right Bank - all the old 19th century shopping arcqdes with vintqge clothes; antique shops, old postcards and Toulouse-Lautrec posters, and lots of sweet little cafes. ALso wandered about Royal Palace gardens and saw the room where the revolutionary plans were born.

Running out of time.

Tomorrow is more sightseeing; then on Wed I am off to Basque country to have fun with the ETA separatists.

CIao

Love Belinda

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Still in Madrid but we have had a sudden change of plans. We are heading up to Paris for about 5 days. Because I have been able to change my flight and it was too difficult to manoeuvre the Lisbon-Santiago de Compostelo trek, I have some extra time, and also several days on my rail pass with which to play around.

Anyway, we have had a great past 5 days here. I think Madrid is a fantastic city - definately in my top three favourite European capitals - the city is beautiful, there is great food around the place (especially if you are a fan of ham, as there are Museu del Jamon [Museum of ham], on every street corner), there are fantastic galleries and parks and lots of great shops!

My last couple of emails, have been a little truncated...but anyway...had a nice time in Lisbon. We stayed in a superb pensao (2 star hotel) right in the centre of Lisbon. We had a view of Plaça de Figura from our window where there is a statue of some most important dude (of which there are many many all over Lisbon) in the centre, and lots of shops, patisseries and bars. The first day we had there was a little drab as we had caught an overnight train (with lousy air-conditioning) and were most fatigued upon arrival....we also went looking for one of the apparently most important churches in Lisbon, but wound up in a decidedly seedy part of town and decided to hang out in the hotel for a couple hours before venturing out again to look at shops!

A lot of Lisbon is quite seedy....there seem to be packs of half a dozen to a dozen seedbags huddled around every 5-10 metres, for apparently no reason. Then there is the spitting....it seems that ´real men´ in Portugal (also in Spain and France) must be competent in the art of forming big boluses of saliva in their mouths and projecting them at tremendous velocities towards the ground. I actually saw a chick do this last night to my horror!

Anyway, we had a much better day the next day for Denise´s B´day (i think this is a rehash but bear with me)...went up to the district of Belem.....a lot of the lead up to it was just the shabby seaport, but then beyond that we saw the monastery of St Jeronimo, Tower of Belem and the beautiful Discoveries Monument.....also got my first look ever at the Atlantic Ocean (from a distance)......it looked much the same as the Pacific Ocean but it was smellier and the sun was in the wrong spot!

Spent the day after that in Sintra...it was quite beautiful and lots to see there but the city is very hilly and the points of interest are all over the place i.e. from the Pena Palace (which is great) to one of the monasteries ( it is 4km), and then there is some other stuff another 5 km in the other direction grrrrr.... Also went to this Moorish castle which has all but disintegrated but you can wander through all the old parts of the castle, and scale the walls for a panoramic view of Sintra and out to the sea. We caught a bus from here out to the Cabo de Roca which is the Point most "Occidental" (westerly) in europe.....that was pretty cool.....the coastline is extremely rugged and the sun in Portugal is tremendously glary....really beautiful there.

Day after in Cascais.....a charming seaside resort town. Lots of wandering around the town centre, and we walked up to the Boca del Inferno (mouth of fire) which is essentially a blowhole. Caught a bus back to Lisbon and went to this ginormous shopping centre...the biggest on the Iberian Peninsula...we found a Morgan de Toi shop with a discount bin (last season´s stock) and got some bloody good deals.

Back in Lisbon for another day.....I already said all this stuff though.

Arrived in Madrid on the 12th (am) - wandered up to Puerta del Sol and hit the shops. Also visited the Reina Sofia (Queen of Spain) Museum....

13th - took a bus out to the Valley of the Fallen (where there is a huge basilica and statue in tribute to General Franciso Franco - even though everyone hated him they still built this huge monument for him) and to the Monastery San Lorenzo del Escorial - there is a vault here where about a zillion princes and princesses and kings and queens have been buried.....room after room of it. Also a brilliant display of ancient maps - it is fun to try and work out where the hell some of these places are as they all have different names and their orientations are not always as usual.

14th - back in Madrid today.....some more shopping, and not much else.

15th - caught a train to Segovia for the day.......it is an extremely beautiful city but it was sooooooo cold there. It is at the foot of the Sierra Nevada, and it was bitterly cold and raining for much of the day. We visited the incredible Alcazar, the Cathedral, wandered about the Aqueduct and found the most amazing hot chocolate in Spain. I am totally converted.....no more of this watery hot chocolate with milk....this stuff is divine!

16th.....today! Went to Museum Thyssen-Bornemisza (an overly wealthy Hungarian art collector) where I saw some Italian stuff, a lot of Flemish and Dutch paintings, a stack of Impressionist paintings, and some post-impressionist, fauve, avant-garde, pop art and surrealist works. Also did a circuit of the city and wandered down Gran Via (one of main streets), saw outside of Royal Palace, San Miguel Meat Market, the Palace of COmmunications (which is the post office but looks like a palace), lots of statues, the town hall, and I found the Chocalateria of Saint Gines...I think it is the oldest one in Madrid. I´m definately going there when I get back here next week! Weather here is nice.....I am down to a t-shirt, jumper and jeans! But Paris will be colder I´m sure

Off this evening to Paris.....I shall write from there.

See ya

Love Belinda

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Jan 7 We are are in Lisbon...it's a tad seedy, but the centre has it's own rustic beauty. Today we visited the Castle of St George and the weird sculpture garden housed within it, the Se Cathedral, about a zillion statues of various holy dudes and founding figures and looked in shoe shops.......i haven't actually bought any yet which is definately a good effort for me. Also cruised about the old Alfama quarter, checked out the aqueduct and visited the wonderful Monument of Discoveries and Tower of Belem.

Jan 8 - more of Lisbon.......lots of shopping for Denise´s birthday!

Jan9 - went to Sintra, a lovely old royal town just north of Lisbon

Jan 10 - spent day at the beautiful seaside town of Cascais before heading onwards to the Cabo de Roca, the most westerly point in Europe and my first visit to the Atlantic Ocean! not that exciting really!

Jan 11 - back in Lisbon today.....visited the Museu Calou Gulbenkian.....this guy was a Turkish bloke who struck it big with oil (like the Beverey Hillbillies!) and spent all his money on art......it is quite an impressive collection. A good range of middle eastern and far east sculpture, ceramics, furniture, ornaments and tapestries, and also a collection of European paintings. Then we went over to the Museum of Coaches....not something I would normally go for, but all the tourist brochures give it 5 thumbs up so we checked it out.....then off to the Cultural Centre of Lisbon to see the Gilbert and George exhibition which had just opened.....these guys are absolutely crazy......they are two ordinary looking middle aged guys who are are mixture of conservative and camp....the exhibition was pop-art and they featured in all of the artworks....a lot of it was a little crass but mostly it was just really bizarre and amusing. Caught a night train to Madrid........

Jan 12 - just arrived in Madrid this morning and we´re staying at the same place we stayed last year.....it is in the centre of the three main art galleries and within walking distance from all the interesting stuff. Had breakfast at our favourite Spanish food place, VIPS - eating Andalusian toast (with a tomato-garlic sauce) and thick thick hot chocolate, then we headed straight for the shops. Denise has managed to find 3 pairs of shoes today, to my one. I think the rest of today is mostly shopping and also looking for some a good tapas bar for dinner.

Adios

Love Belinda

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Hola.....

OK this will also be a quick one.....but here is catching up on the past week or so.

Due to the overwhelming number of tourists in Barcelona for Xmas, we wound up getting stuck there for a couple extra days than anticipated which somewhat threw our plans into chaos......or rather, it put us behind a few days. Barcelona is wicked though, so I really shouldn't complain!

Dec 27 - we went to Figueras to visit the Dali museum. The town itself is, as Lonely Planet correctly terms it, a dive, but the museum is bloody fantastic......it is like you are walking inside a gigantic surrealistic lollipop.

There is room after room of drawings, paintings, sculptures, and in the centre of the building is a quaint little courtyard which has bizarre scupltures and a beaten up old car in the middle with mannequins sitting inside. Trippy music plays in the background and if you put a coin in the slot it actually starts ´raining´ inside the car!

Dec 28 - The next day we visited the monastery of Montserrat, which is nestled amongst the mountains to the NW of Barcelona. It is in the middle of nowhere and you have spectacular views across the valley and of the curiously shaped rocks that form much of the mountain range. To get up there, we caught a funicular up about 800m. It was pretty damn cold up there but it was incredibly beautiful and the views were spectacular.

Apparently Montserrat is the most important site of pilgrimage for Catholic Spaniard´s - they go to see the black Madonna, which is a pint sized statue encased in bullet proof glass. Up at the monastery we also got to chase around the feral cats - one of my absolute favourite European pasttimes! Sad, but true!

When we got back to Barca we went to the Picasso museum. We had visited the museum a few years ago and really enjoyed it as it has a tremendously diverse range of his work. Unfortunately, at the moment, they are refurbishing the place so half of the place was closed and only his typical stuff was on show, but still, it was pretty amazing. Also, as the city was inundated with tourists, and this was the first day the museum was open after Xmas, the place was a little overcrowded.

Dec 29 - we went to the Joan Miro museum - turned out to be a lot more fun than Picasso. Lots of weird and wonderful sculptures and paintings. They actually gave us free audioguides which was nice, though it did remind me why i never pay for these usually! They talk such bollocks! Also went to the Iglesia of Santa Maria de Mar, and the wonderful Palau de la Musica Catalunya - basically the multipurpose music centre for Barcelona....it is an extremely beautiful and colourful building, but it kinda seems as though it is a little too flamboyant for anything classical and the decoration would perhaps be distracting if you wanted to take in the music.

Dec 30 - tres ordinaire.....caught a 12 hour train from Barca to Granada as we couldn´t get on an overnight service. Quite nice scenery along the coast.....especially between Barca and Tarragona. I think the highlight of the day was trying to communicate with this wacky old lady who needed help with her luggage. A gentleman sitting a few rows down from us informed us she was at ´one o´clock´. We seem to be finding more and more people at that time as the trip progresses.....I think one of the folks we saw yesterday was at about half past 3!

Dec 31...Grananda!! First we visited the old Islamic quarter of town, before winding up looking like drowned rats as a result of the torrential rain! We got chased by gypsies around the cathedral who were trying to get us to buy lavender and other herbs from them. NYE was a bit of a write-off.......after last year´s NYE in Berlin, and hearing a few wild firecrackers go off around Granada.....we decided to bail on the celebrations and crashed early....Í don´t think the SPaniard´s are quite as batty as the Germans, but I don´t like fireworks being chucked in the air and exploding at random. So I'm a wuss!

Jan1... Happy New Year! Today we wandered up through more of the quaint Alcaceira (Islamic Quart) and saw several caves in the rocky hillsides where the local gypsies live. Also checked out the zillions of souvenir shops and chased the feral cats around the city.

Jan 2 - a fantastic day. We got up at the crack of dawn to head to the Alhambra at the top of the hill. This was the old Moorish palace and the last fortress of Muslim power in Spain. The buildings are gorgeous and there are incredible gardens with fountains all over the place. Thank goodness we arrived early as it become flooded with Japanese tour groups very quickly.... We had to race around to take photos of everything sans tour groups, and then wander back through more slowly to properly absorb everything

After we had done that, we sauntered back down the hillside to find people lining the streets - literally everywhere! We thought there must have been some royal family member or dignitary about to come past.....but it turned out to be a parade. For the 2nd of Jan is the anniversary of when the city of Granada fell back into the power of the Christians in 1492......Granada was the last Muslim city in Spain and on the night of Jan 1/2 the conquistadors captured the fortress and reclaimed the city.....anyway big party all round. Caught an afternoon train to Seville.....

Jan 3 - visited Alcazar and Cathedral. The cathedral is apparently the 3rd biggest in the world, after St Paul's in London and St Peter's at the Vatican City - quite impressive, I have to say. Also wandered through the tiny little streets and looked at shops. Also went to a bullring and museum of Torreadors. I still don't get the whole thing with bullfighting though! It's such a horrible sport! In the late afternoon we went to Plaza de Espana which is a semi-circular building with little curved seats all around it which have mosaics which commemorate the joining together of all the different parts of Spain to form a nation.....there is a huge fountain at the front and you can row boats around the water. It is really quite delightful

Jan 4 - went to Ronda for the day. This place is incredibly beautiful and we wished we had had more time there than in Seville or Granada.....We visited yet another bullring (Ronda is the home in bullfighting in Spain), wandered down the gorge to see the gorgeous (no pun intended) bridge and look at views over the valley, and visited the museum of Bandits! They trace the history of bandits in Andalucia, show you comic books featuring legendary bandeleros, show you costumes they used to wear and play schmaltzy music as you go through....it's quite a fun place. I didn't realize there were also female bandits that used to reek havoc about the place but apparently they were quite nasty.

Jan 5 - went on a day trip to Cordoba......mostly to see the Mezquita, apparently the greatest hybrid of a mosque and cathedral anywhere in the world. It's truly bizarre to walk through this mosque that has St Mary and Marthas and Antonys and whoever else in portraits all over the walls. Also visited the Palace of Mondrian, the Jewish quarter and ate some fantastic Churros con chocolate...I think they need to get this stuff happening back in Oz. Long doughnuts that you dip in thick hot chocolate - divine...sublime... In the evening back in Seville we went to the Three Kings street parade where all the children are thrown lollies from floats passing through the streets. The three Kings are dressed like Santa Claus, but one wears red, one wears green and the other blue! Any excuse to party in Spain, it seems! The streets were absolutely choked with people and the amount of lollies thrown from the floats was unbelievable..........we weren't even trying and scored 135! It is quite peculiar to Spain.......it seems as though there is a constant siesta......the 2 weeks I have been in Spain we have had about 6 holidays and about 4 parades! All people seem to do in Spain is shop, eat, drink and party.........which is fine if you are there all the time but somewhat frustrating if you want to see stuff.....

Jan 6.....everything was closed so unfortunately there wasn't so much to do. Also as we had quite a spat with the manager of the hostal the night before so won't really happy to leave our things there so just up and went! Caught a night train to Lisbon last night.......quite a long trip. Took about 13 hours on the rickety train but it also didn't cut down sightseeing time so it is definately a good option.

Anyway, will write more from Portugal

Adios

Belinda xx

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Hola...

Still having lots of fun. Been very busy the last week or so. Am currently in Seville and heading to Lisbon tomorrow night. Spent today in Cordoba, came back and watched the Three Kings parade in the street (for Epiphany or something) (we managed to get 135 lollies that the multicoloured santa claus impersonators and overweight tellitubby kids throw to the multitudes of Sevillians), and then went back to the hotel to tangle with Spanish bureaucracy - dodgy hotel man quoted us a price that differs to the price we found listed in a hidden spot in the hotel.........grrrrrrrrrr not impressed.

In the last week we have visited Dali Museum in Figueras, Monastery of Monserrat, Picasso and Miro museums, spent a couple days in Granada, the day before yesterday in Seville, yesterday in Ronda (this is fantastic!), and today in Cordoba.

Will write in a few days or when I can get online.........
Cheers
Belinda x

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Felice Navidad

¡Hola!

Am now in Barcelona and it is absolutely sweltering here....ok slight exaggeration, but it might be about 12 C right now....so pretty impressive Actually the internet cafe is about the hottest place i´ve been all week!

Since I last wrote.....I spent a couple days in Montpellier and have been in Barca since Saturday.

I stayed at a lady´s house in Monpellier - a girl from the hostel in Nimes recommended this student house so it was quite a fun and comfy place to stay. I had my own queen-sized bed, my own TV (only in French) and fantastic food included in price of accommodation. Oh and she had an adorable fat cat too. Didn´t do much sightseeing in Montpellier as I stumbled across Galleries Lafayette, and then Mango and Zara shops, so I did some damage to the credit card instead got some fantastic clothes though!

The train ride to Barca was great.....the scenery on the stretch of coast between Languedoc-Rousillon and Catalunya is quite spectacular - all this parched land on one side with snowcapped mountains in the background (partly Pyrenees) and then estuaries and the ocean on the other. I sat next to a gendarme for part of the trip....he looked insanely similar to the guy from the Wagon Wheel ad! I wound up getting a shoddy connection between Montpel and Barca and had to wait about at the train station in the border town of PortBou for 2 hours.....I had the delight of watching the annual Xmas lotto draw which went on for the duration of my time in the station cafetaria and then probably longer.....there were kids dressed in uniforms reading out the numbers in song......sounded like tellitubbies had taken too much ritalin! grrrrrr prime time viewing though it seems as the entire cafe was enthralled by it!

When I arrived here, I headed for a walk along La Ramblas - it´s a busy street lined with cafes, shops and home to lots of markets, street theatre, and animals! Also went for a walk along down to the port where there are more markets, shops, Imax theatre and the marina. Visited the Museum of Catalonian History.......It looked kinda ordinary but turned out to be quite fantastic as it not only gave you a crash course in Catalunyan history, but also had lots of hands on stuff.....you could grind corn, spin wool, practice spining a long gun like they do in the changing of the guard, and could press different buttons to hear different bell tolls or patriotic Catalonian songs.....for some reason you could also play Beatles music, Madonna and The Doors.... good stuff.

Denise arrived on Sunday morning and is having a bit of difficulty adapting to the cold.....fair enough when you come from 33 degree Aussie heat! I keep assuring her it will be warmer in the south, but she is still keen to invest in a divine winter coat......any excuses for shopping

What else- visited lots of Gaudi stuff here.......the guy was an absolute architectural genius....we went to La Sagrada Familia (a great big drip castle like church which is like nothing you have ever seen - it is a bit of a shame that they are continuing to construct the church - it has been in and out of construction for 100 years - because it is not in keeping with the original design....at least not at the moment so hopefully they will leave it be), Manzanas de la Discordias (block of discord), Casa Mila (A museum of Gaudi stuff, rather like a lollipop house), Parc Guell (huuuuge big parc designed by gaudi with lots of weird and wonderful buildings, seats, archways etc).

Have wandered round the Barri Gotic part of town and seen the old Cathedral, lots of markets and the Ajuntamiento (town hall). Also went through the Mercat de la Boqueria (food market just near where we are staying) where you can buy everything from divine looking olives to full pigs, live lobsters squirming about on ice, and whole chickens hanging from their beaks....it is a bit gross but i guess it is just depending on what one is used to. Where we are staying is right on teh middle of La Ramblas and there is a huge Miro mosaic on the pavement, a Gaudi designed side of a building with japanese paintings, a dragon and some umbrellas.....kinda weird.

A couple of days ago we decided to take the funicular up mount Tibidabo to see the Sagrat Cor (sacred heart church), tower and amusement park and get a good view over the city.....turned out the funicular was not running so we decided to walk it.....it is only 521m elevation but it took forever to get up there as the path winds and winds and bush bashing is inconceivable as we quickly discovered - blackberry bushes and privet etc all over the place. It was a good walk though - even saw some snow at the top!

We had a nice Xmas. Xmas eve we went for a wander down La Rambla and listened to a group of uni students playing miniature guitars singing Felice Navidad (apparently different faculties from the uni send out reps every year and they all dress up in their academic robes etc - quite fun), watched the mime artists and looked at the markets. There are some regular strange folks who are in the same places everyday.....there is a contortionist who is on the pavement for about 8 hours a day with his shirt off, a 70 + yr old man who has a stall of broken dolls, old toys and a mannequins leg who is there all the time, and two skanky american guys who ask everyone for money.

Of course practically everything was closed on xmas day.....but we went for a walk through the Parc Ciutadella and watched the old men play bocce (presumably their wives were at home cooking the lunch for Navidad) - i hadn´t noticed before, but just like when folks watch high jump, spectators for bocce also lift their leg when someone throws the bocce ball---- tres amusing ¨). Also had a look at the Cascada fountain, bought a great Miro t-shirt, Manzana de la Discorida, La Sagrada Familia and the Arc de Triomf. For Xmas dinner we found a place that served fantastic Italian food......quite cheap too! And we even managed to find a VIPS (book shop and cafe) which had churros con chocolat (Long deep fried doughnuts you dip in thick hot chocolate sauce). I love the food here...... you get incredibly large serves of fantastic tasting food and it is so cheeeeeeap. Had some nice paella the other night, lots of yummy pastries and tomorrow we will go back to the Xocalateria and see if they have more yummy foods

Today we went to the Miro Parc, Bull ring (inhabited, of course by feral cats), and to Montjuic, the olympic park. Saw the olympic stadium, olympic pool (which is quite green and has ducks swimming in it), the tiny tiny olympic flame and had a wander throught eh gardens. Also went to the Museum of National Art-----great collection of Romanesque and gothic art, as well as a temporary exhibit of photos on the spanish civil war.

Tomorrow hopefully off to Dali museum in Figueras and if time, to Montserrat Monestary.

Time is low, so gotta go.....

Adios
Love Belinda

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Bonjour

Am now back in France. At present I'm in Languedoc-Rousillion in the city of Nimes. It is quite a nice place but the hostel is a little quiet at the moment... the guy at reception told me a group of schoolies are arriving ce soir so thankfully i am leaving tomorrow. Apart from about 3 people, everyone speaks French and not much English! I think my french is getting slightly better though. A lady on the train today informed me that I spoke french very well. Hmmm...very kind she was.

I left Switzerland on Saturday and it was something crazy like -15!! All of Western Europe seems to be suffering from a cold snap at the moment though - it has even been snowing in Provence. One of the girls I am staying with said that on Friday the whole town basically closed down because of the cold and snow. It is getting a little warmer though and i am optimistic that Spain will be HOT - ok well relatively so.

I woke up Saturday with virtually no voice......a combination of aphonia, diplophonia, pitch and phonation breaks (for all you speechies out there)...mum is certain I'm borderline pneumoniac but it's not that bad. Hey but if I do get really sick, I will make sure you all have my address so you can send lots of flozers. Everyone at the hostel has been laughing at me cause i sound like a frog... but i am in France so that suits! I learnt a new word too.... gorge (throat). It's kinda hard to get assistance in the pharmacy when you can a) not speak much French, and b) not actually use your voice at all!

I spent Sunday exploring the city of Nimes...... quite a nice place...one of the girls from the hostel, Josephine showed me arounnd. We visited the Jardins de la Fontaines, Arena (old Roman arena zhere they used to have bull fights), the archaeological museum, natural history mseum, and a couple other things.

On Monday, I visited Arlés.....visited the archaeological museum on the site of the old Circus Maximus and next to a gypsy camp. Also went to the Roman Arena, amphiteatre and forum, roman baths, an art gallery with a couple of Picassos, and chased the feral cats around the town!

Yesterday I went to Pont du Gard. Very impressive......it used to be an aqueduct back when the area was settled nearly 2000 years ago - maybe longer even....it is quite huge and is in the middle of nowhere. I had planned to go to the village of Uzès in the afternoon but ended up hiking around the bush near Pont du Gard in the fresh air.....

Today I went to Avignon. I had wanted to go here since I was about 9 when my piano teacher told me about the people dancing on the bridge........it turned out to be quite an ordinary bridge but the city itself was really beautiful. I visited the old Holy See, the Palais du Papes, visited another archaeological museum, natural history museum, the gardens on the top of the hill (great view of the river), and Villeneuve dez Avignon; across the river, which were home to a colony of noisy geese, nice sculptures and fountains which had icicles dripping from them because of the cold. I found a fantastic pizza place for lunch.....mmm....

Tomorrow i am off to Montpellier on the coast. I had hoped to base myself in Narbonne and do a trip to Carcassone from there; but i donùt have a list of places to stay in Narbonne and there is no hostel there. I am booked in to stay in a guesthouse in Montpellier which is full of foreign students studying french. You get a room with private bathroom, breakfast and a hugggggggge dinner for FF150 - about $AUD40! good value..... not sure what there is to do there but it is on the coast so maybe it will be warmer

Am meeting Denise in Barcelona on Sunday and will be in Spain and Portugal for 4-5 weeks. Depends on how accessible some places are we are hoping to go. May head back to Suisse and Paris for a couple days if time. I had tried to change my flight to come back earlier but am still going via Thailand and wil be home Jan 30. Just in time for end of cricket ODIs!

The French are obsessed with their animals and take them everywhere....this afternoon on the way back from Avignon; my seatmate was a scruffy looking dog and across the aisle was a gorgeous chinchilla, just like caesar! Peoeple take their dogs into restaurants, on public transport. They actually put signs up outside museums to inform people that their petit chiens are not allowed in the building! Its nice having all the cute animals around but unlike the Parisiens; the folks down here donùt carry their doggie bags to clean up the mess so you have to watch your step.

Must get going

A bien tot

Belinda

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Boudevilliers, Switzerland

I have made my way to Switzerland for a few days where I am staying with my cousin Kraig. He lives in a village called Boudevilliers, not far from Neuchatel (get out those maps!), and the Jura Mountains. La Chaux de Fonds is 5 mins drive from here and is the highest city in Europe. Cold too!! I think the local weather tonight predicted a top of -3 for tomorrow! All this cold and yet no snow! grrrr....perhaps in Lucerne or Interlaken.

Since last time I wrote, I visited Notre Dame, Louvre, Eiffel Tower and went to a concert at La Madeline. It was free so that was great . It's strange. In many places you can go to free concerts, but you have to pay to use the toilet! I had another day in Paris. Turned out to be a lazy day as I was tired and pretty much all of my friends from the hostel had left The only person I kinda knew that was still there had a hot date so also abandoned me...

Anzway, I checked out the Centre Pompidou, did a little (window) shopping along the Champs Elysées (decided not to buy that amazing jacket I had been eyeing all week, but am now regretting it), and wound up heading to La Bastille in the evening with some girls from the hostel. It was pretty spectacular at night. I hadn´t made it there all week, and as Xmas is approaching the whole area was beautifully lit up and there was a Luna Park type funfair there with acrobats and markets etc.

I had a nice train ride from Paris to Neuchatel. Being a Sunday morning, the train was virtually empty. I had a seat next to a Swiss Orthopaedic surgeon who gave me the crash course in Swiss Geography, Sociology and Politics. He enjoyed learning all about Aussie slang and native animals - I told him that only 5 000 people per year get taken by sharks in Australia, but some 10 000 die from spider bites. I also warned him about drop bears that may attack suddenly whilst one is on walkabout...

It's been great catching up with Kraig (my cousin) - haven´t seen him since about 1993 when we went to Movie World, Queensland - and he is still a tops bloke. Still got a great Aussie accent and great sense of humour. He has an adorable cat called Coca, who has adopted me - cats the world over seem to gravitate towards cat lovers and Coca is no exception. It's great having my own queen sized futon, a real bath (as opposed to push button hostel showers), and being able to leave my bag unpacked every day!

On Monday, I spent a couple of hours in the village of Merton, across the lake. It's a medieval village that still has its original wall around it. Very charming place, but rather like a ghost town when I was there. Europe all over has the habit of shutting down everything on Monday so there was basically no-one walking around anywhere. I was certainly the only tourist, but then, it is the middle of winter. Merton was exactly how I imagine Provençe will be - lots of little gardens, cobble-stone streets, and town water fountains - with icicles!

Yesterday I went to Montreux and Lausanne. Montreux is like a lakeside resort on Lake Genevé. The water there was this transluscent turquoise colour.....and lots of tiny fish swimming all over the place. There were lots of Xmas markets there selling hot wine and waffles and stuff like that. I visited the Chateau de Chillon, a castle built on the edge of the lake in (I think) the 1300s. Probably the most charming castle I have visited in Europe. Not full of all that ostentacious cacophony you find in Hofburg, Schönbrunn or Versailles. As I was walking around the lake, I came across a statue of Freddie Mercury! Apparently Montreux was his second home and he died there in 1991.

Later in the day I caught the train to Lausanne to visit the Olympic Museum. That was fantastic. It was kinda small but very interesting. It runs through the history of the ancient and modern Olympics, and has lots of memorabilia from both modern and ancient games on display - including Eric Mossambini's (sp?) Speedos!! haha..... Lots of clips of Aussies there too from 2000 and other Olympic games.

Todaz was a lazy daz as I'm coming down with bronchitis or something similarly nasty and I wound up sleeping most of the day. I didn´t even leave the house today except to walk to the busstop to check the times for tomorrow. I actually had to scrape the glass with my fingernails to get the ice off!

Tomorrow I'm off to Genevé to see the International Red Cross Museum, UN HQ, Jet d'eau and whatever else I have time for........

From there it's off to Lucerne, possibly for just a day, maybe for a few days. I'll decide tomorrow. Then to Provençe/Languedoc-Rousillon for a week.

At this stage, I'm hoping to head back to Paris or Amsterdam for a couple dazy. There is so much to see, especially in Paris, that I didnàt get time to do, and I don't know how long before I will come back. So if there is time, I'll probably head back that way for 4-5 days in a month's time. Who knows? Too many options, but the flexibility is great.

continued........14 December 2001.......Schnee!!

Ok......Well yesterday I wound up in Lucerne. I woke up at the crack of dawn.....well actually even earlier as the sun sleeps in til 8ish and thought I may as well just do a day trip there. It was snowing when I got off the train - extremely cold so i had to go shopping for some more clothes. Nothing exciting, though, just another scarf and ear warmers.

It is incredibly in Lucerne. Lots of natural beauty from the mountains and lakes and the old cobble stone streets. Churches I am almost sick of, but cobble stoned streets, especially with markets and the smell of waffles or croissants.....mmmmm. Speaking of croissants, I don't understand why there are no people with excess adipose tissue here. There are the most incredible patisseries, bakeries and chocolateries everywhere - but hardly any fat people. I guess in the Netherlands, it is because they all cycle everywhere......and perhaps because the French smoke so much (and by this I'm certainly not advocating smoking!!) Not sure about the Swiss...But still, all the cold makes me want to run into the nearest café and have hot chocolate and crépes or something sweet.

Ok...back to Lucerne. I visited a glacier museum there which was kinda interesting but without the ice sculpture garden I had read about. Also visited a Picasso museum there, which was fantastic! There was a series of photos taken by some of his colleagues that feature him at home with his family and at work on his paintings and sculptures. It's a nice change to see the artist for who he is (or at least how appears to be in moments of time), than just to see some weird and wonderful representation. He was certainly a runt of a fellow though......and he always wore really dodgy boxers when he painted! at least in these photos. I was hoping to head up Mt Pilatus (after Sus' recommendation) but the clouds were covering the peaks and I thought it maz not be worth the SF80 ($AUD90) to get up there, especially if nothing could be seen.

Switzerland is incredibly expensive....just as everyone says. Using the McEconomic scale, Switzerland tops the UK for the most expensive Maccas....SF9.90 for a meal......(about $AUD11). Ouch.....and it´s all the same crap anyway! Apparently in South Africa you can get a meal for about $AUD2.50, but I guess it´s all relative.

Today I spent in Genevé.....almost contemplated not going when I got outside though as it was -10!! Didn't warm up much during the daz either which made checking out the old town challenging! Quite windz and the chill factor makes the cold verz nasty.....Anyway, I really wanted to visit the UN and Int Red Cross Museum and that was indoors so that was great! There was a conference on at the UN for the International Disarmament Tribunal so there were people everywhere. The Jet d'eau is switched off in the winter so I didn´t see that, and the flower clock was extremely disappointing - I guess frozen flowers don´t quite work!

We had some Raclette for dinner last night- delicious! You melt cheese under this grill on the table, add onion and herbs or whatever to the top) and when it is all gooey, pour it over new potatoes.....hmmmmmm not the healthiest meal but it was delightful. All cheese is good cheese and Switzerland has a lot of it!

Tomorrow I'm heading to south to spend time in Nimes, Avignon, Arles, Aix-en-Provence and possibly Lyon. Hopefully it will be a little warmer there. The paper today said it was -2 in Nice and -1 in Marseille which is crazy for Mediterranean cities! Hopefully it warms up for me. Apparently there is also a foot of snow in Barcelona at the moment - fingers crossed it sticks around til Xmas!

Am still not 100% well. I have all but lost my voice for like the 5th time this year! But at least it isn't accompanying a cold or fever or anything...i just sound a bit daft...

Anyway, must head off to get some sleep.

Ciao

Belinda
xx

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At the moment I am in a cafe just near Notre DAME...in Paris!

Since I last wrote I have visited the Hague (International Peace Palace and Gemeente Museum for a Picasso to Tapies exhibition), and spent a few delightful days in Brugge. The main town square has an ice skating rink in the middle and Xmas markets. The waffles there- well, let´s just say they were quite heavenly...

I arrived in Paris on Monday and am having a great time. I visited the Louvre on my first day here....only got through about half a wing in about 4 hours.....plan on returning tomorrow though to see a little more, but I am certain I will never truly get to do it justice as an occasional visitor.

On Tuesday I went to one of the Museums of Modern Art - It has an interesting range of Cubist, Fauvist, Dadaist etc. works. I also did lots of walking along the Champs Elysees, and had a look at the Arc de Triomphe, Hotel Des Invalides, Le Saint Eustache Eglise (a lovely Cathedral), Jardin des Tuilleries and did some window shopping. I also went to dinner with an American guy from the hostel to sample escargots- aka SNAILS...they weren´t too bad at all - quite salty and a bit like mushrooms - doesn´t everything taste like mushrooms if its indescribable? The worst part was trying to get the mushy snail out of its shell without shooting the whole thing across the floor. I think we may give frogs legs a try in a couple of days...

I picked up a friend from the airport yesterdqy - Sam - and had to get up at the crack of dawn so i am very very tired still. It rained much of yesterday which was a shame, but we went up the Arc de Triomphe and laughed at all the cars below, visited the Madeleine, Musee D´Orsay, and God knows what else!

We have visited the Pantheon this morning and are just shortly heading to Notre Dame and then i think we will head to Monmartre, The Sacre Couer, Salvador Dali museum and to have a look at the Moulin Rouge. Tonight we are going to have dinner with some people from the hostel and head to the Champs Elysees for late night shopping. It is a nice sunny day and i don´t even have a coat on so it should be nice and clear later when we head up the Eiffel Tower.

I am in Paris for a few more days and then I head to Switzerland to stay with my cousin Kraig. It will be great to see him again after many years of him living abroad.

Hope all are well.

A bien tot

Belinda x

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