Adrian and I are in Paris! Well we're in the Courtyard Marriott near Charles de Gaulle Airport to be precise and I have to say it's very nice.
We are here for a trade show, but hope to fit in a day of sight seeing and plan on posting a mini trip report here on this blog.
We flew from Newcastle at lunch time, got to the hotel about 3pm and we both promptly fell asleep on the bed til about 5.30pm. That's more usual on a long haul flight, so I think we reacted like Pavlov's dogs. Show us an airport and we go into auto-jet lag mode! The sound proofing on the windows is very effective as we found when we opened them later. We can't hear the traffic outside at all.
The Marriott have various different types of hotel and this one is only a Courtyard for another couple of weeks as it has been having an extensive refurbishment and from April 1st it is being reclassified as a full Marriott. I don't know if that means the price will go up, but we are impressed with the place at the moment. It still has the smell of new carpet.
The reception area has a glass pyramid ceiling with trees in planters giving a lovely conservatory feel. We ate in the bar rather than do the full on restaurant. It's not cheap, but that's to be expected in any chain hotel near a capital city's major airport. Adrian had Gratinee Lyonnaise, one of his all time favourite foods in the world. Ever! To you and me, that's French Onion Soup. I had a panini with the yummiest dressed salad leaves I've tasted in ages. I forgot how good the French are at salad dressings.
We treated ourselves to a dessert - Moelleux de chocolat Valrhona. We figured out the made with Valrhona chocolate bit, but what on earth is a Moelleux? We asked what that was and were told it was a soft cake. That was a bit of an undersell - it turned out to be a perfectly formed and utterly delicious chocolate fondant. Soft sponge on the outside, soft decadent gooey chocolate melting on the inside. Mmmm. Made us think about all the poor Masterchef hopefuls who had attempted the elusive chocolate fondant.
I'm already looking forward to breakfast - I love continental breakfasts! Not that I'm obsessed with food or anything, but when in France it's hard not to join in the national preoccupation with food.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Thursday, August 9, 2007
THE BOOK!
I've finally got the photographs done of the book we made on the Art and Soul course. You can view the whole book at Flickr
Enjoy and let me know what you think!
Glenda
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Day 11: Siena
Another typical Tuscan view - rolling hills and cypress trees - this one just outside Pienza. This was typical of the scenery on our bus trip to Siena. We travelled there on Wednesday, market day.
The market was just gorgeous. There was a fantastic food section with the most appetising smells wafting around. Some of the girls succumbed and had an impromptu picnic, but I was just entranced with the market. Sure there was some cheap tat, but it was so massive there were some gems in there too. We bought a traditional tablecloth and I'm sure we paid a lot less than we would have done in the tourist shops in town. I found a big bag of bottletops from a wine makers stall. There were two or three haberdashery stalls with trims, buttons, tassles and ribbons. Adrian was bored rigid, so I curbed my desire to go on a mad shopping spree, but I did buy a beautiful green glass bead necklace.We walked up towards the town and went into the Santa Domenica church, home to the head and a thumb of Saint Catherine - the rest of her is in Rome. Apparently this dismemberment and dispersal of saints was all the rage a few hundred years ago.
This painting is dated 1221, and is by Guido da Siena, a founder of the Sienese school of painting. I stood and looked at this for ages. We were both entranced by it - I love the patterned halo and the long curly fingers. I don't know if it has been restored, but I don't think it has. That circle design on the back of the chair could be straight out of the 1970s!We then headed up to the Piazza del Campo, the amazingly beautiful mediaeval town square. This is where the famous Palio horse race is run every year. We stopped for lunch at one of the (very touristy) cafes around the piazza and settled down to watch the world go by.
The weather was unpleasantly hot, very sticky and sultry. While we were having our lunch, the heavens opened and we were treated to a gloriously cooling thunderstorm. We thought we'd wait for it to stop, but as the time to get back to the bus got closer and closer, we realised it wasn't going to! Hmm, we'd just found the gelateria, were we going to let a little rain interrupt the chance of a gelato? Er, of course not! However, I have to say, eating gelato in a Sienese thunderstorm does cause severe risk of splashback - Adrian managed to get cioccolata all down his new (pale beige) linen shirt. I wonder who's going to end up washing that in the hotel sink, sigh...
Day 8: Montepulciano
On Sunday, we met Lesley Riley, our tutor for Art & Soul. After breakfast, we took a short drive to Montepulciano – a fortified hill town somewhat bigger than Pienza and a lot steeper. We took our time and slowly made our way up to the piazza at the top, bumping into Lesley with her husband and sister several times on the way. Almost in need of oxygen at the top, half way down, we figured we had already burned off the calories in yesterday’s gelato, so another one wouldn’t go amiss. I love arches and doorways. I love decorative details and found myself drawn to the fanlights above the arched doorways. Some were made from carved wood, but the majority seemed to be of wrought iron. I like the mixture here of the gothic arch and the roman arch. Was it meant to be like that, or did they fit a new door at some point?
Did I mention this was a VERY hilly town. Well it was all one big hill really - steep little streets winding their way up the hillside, with occasional shortcuts like this little covered staircase. We tried going up one, but it led to a private house so we quickly scuttled back again.
Gardens seem to happen in private in these mediaeval hill towns. They must be tucked away in private couryards, because you don't see much greenery around the town. The window boxes are always a delight though.
Sunday afternoon saw lots of folks arriving for the course. We all officially met as a group at our first dinner together on Sunday night. Glenny outlined the format of the tutoring – start at nine in the morning, lunch at 12.30, afternoons could go on as long as we wanted as we had the room to ourselves. Wednesday was set aside for a trip to Siena and a trip to Montalcino was planned for our last Saturday.
Day 7: Chillin’ in Pienza
Saturday was a chance to catch our breath and rest. We had internet access in the hotel lobby, so caught up on email and I started to catch up on the blogging and type up my notes. While doing this, we both gradually became aware of some loud, raucous engine noises and occasional cheering going on outside. When we ventured out to see what the fuss was about, we found that we had stumbled onto a famous Italian vintage car race – the Mille Miglio (thousand miles). The cars were mainly German and Italian, but we did cheer on the one or two british cars that we saw. There were Ferraris, Maseratis, Mercades, Porsches, Aston Martins, Austins and loads we’d never seen before. Many of the drivers were wearing old fashioned leather helmets and driving goggles – reflecting the vintage of their immaculately maintained cars.
Pienza was obviously a checkpoint on the race as there were race officials checking each vehicle as they went through. Our hotel was just at the point where they were back on the road proper and they could roar off into the distance. And when I say roar, I’m not kidding – these things were LOUD! No wonder they nearly all wore earplugs!
Once all the cars had passed through, we (and everyone else watching) headed for the nearest gelateria – it was gloriously hot and sunny!
Day 6: Vinci to Pienza
Our farmhouse turned out to be a delightful self catering cottage, with chickens and horses and a tiny black cat. The view from the doorway was pure Tuscany, the beds were comfortable and all would have been perfect if the Italian family staying next door weren’t so loud. Luckily they didn’t stay up too late, but they were up very early the next day. I got the impression they had a flight to catch.
We then went off to look around the Vinci museum in the castello at the top of the hill. Not what we were expecting, but fascinating. This was the story of Leonardo the engineer – the amazing, ahead of his time thinker who invented the tank, the helicopter, weaving looms, lifting gear, to name but a few. The museum was full of his drawings, plus scale models of many of his inventions, built by various people over the years and donated to the museum. There was even a pair of gigantic wings made from wood, leather and canvas.
We came away from the exhbition convinced that Leonardo da Vinci and Doctor Who are in fact one and the same person. We reckoned that Doctor Who visited a future where the Renaissance never happened and it was just too bleak to contemplate, so he went back and gave humanity a gentle nudge with his "futuristic" ideas. Here's Adrian copying the famous Vitruvius Man pose.After a quick lunch, we raided the tourist shop. I bought three very well known Leonardo prints to take home and frame, plus some postcards and little calendars to use for collage and we both got Leonardo t-shirts!
Back on the road and we had decided to head straight for Pienza. This is our destination for the Art & Soul course that I am doing next week. We both felt like we needed a day of down time with no driving before the course started. We had reservations from Sunday, but when we arrived, we were able to check in early and I think we got the pick of the rooms!
The hotel is the San Gregorio Residence. Our room is a huge suite! As well as a good size bedroom, bathroom with jazuzzi corner bath, there’s a kitchen/living room with dining table and sofa! Tiled floors throughout make it nice and cool and it has air conditioning.
Once we’d completed the mammoth unloading of the car (it took a while), we headed into the town for a look around. It is absolutely beautiful. Pienza is either a tiny town or a big village, perched atop a hill with the ubiquitous bell tower. There’s a small piazza (plaza) where you can sit and eat your gelato and wonder about the metal rings and cuffs attached to the wall of what is now a museum.
The main street is lined with shops selling the usual tourist wares of olive oil, wine and the local cheese, pecorino. There are two cheese shops right opposite each other and the smell really gets your attention! What is nice though, is that there are other shops that are clearly aimed at the locals – a chemist, a fruit and veg shop, a deli.
There is also a good selection of places to eat and down the narrow alleyways, you get glimpses of the glorious tuscan countryside. We headed down one of these to find a breathtaking view and a walk way around one side of the town. We just sat there drinking in the beauty for a while, relaxing and unwinding. Yes, this is why people fall in love with Tuscany.
Day 5: Limone sul Garda to Vinci via Flrenze (Florence)
Oh dear, no good night’s sleep to report, the Panorama’s beds were like rocks. Adrian can sleep anywhere, but I was up by 5am, just too uncomfortable to stay in bed. I sat on the balcony and attempted to sketch the view. There was a little bird building a nest in the bush right next to the balcony. He (she?) would come flying onto the balcony railing with a twig then disappear into the bush. There would be some determined rustling and the entire bush would shake, then he’d pop out the other side and go off for another twig. It was rather cute.
I kept getting the video camera trained on the spot on the balcony where he’d landed, only to see him, wise to my tricks, choose a different place to fly into his home. It looked like a thrush – someone please tell me if it’s the males or females that build the nests, I can’t believe I’m that ignorant that I don’t actually know!
The Panorama had an extensive breakfast buffet that went part of the way to compensating for the awful beds. The view across the lake was another plus point, but unless they get new mattresses, we wouldn’t come back here.
Lake Garda is not particularly wide, you could see over to the other side, but so long that you couldn’t see the bottom of the lake. Having that watery horizon gives you a feeling of being by the sea and I can see why the lake is so popular with tourists. Driving back out through the small town at the head of the lake, I was reminded of parts of Cornwall – it would seem this place is very popular with the windsurfers.
Holly the SatNav was telling us that we could get to Florence by about 2.00pm. We set off in high spirits and nothing eventful happened to slow us down. We didn’t stop for lunch – we’d rather get to Florence then get something to eat. That turned out to be a mistake…
We told Holly to take us to the Duomo in Florence (she’s programmed with car parks and points of interest). We followed her instructions to find ourselves in a dirty, noisy, grafitti covered city. I took over the driving and soon found myself winding through tiny backstreets. Imagine narrow alleyways, lined with tall buildings, bikes and scooters down one side, washing strung across balconies above you, people stepping out in front of you whenever they felt like it and vespas whizzing past (on either side of the vehicle) grazing the wing mirrors. It was like something out of a James Bond movie, only in very slow motion.
It was fun for about two minutes, but quickly became stressful, especially when it became apparent that Holly had entered a parallel universe where pedestrianised areas and one way streets don’t exist. Some of the turns she expected us to do were so tight you almost had to do a three point turn. There was an unspoken fear that we were going to end up down a blind alley with no option but to do the whole thing all over again, but backwards!
After half an hour of this, I caught a glimpse of the famous dome of the Duomo, but it quickly disappeared behind the tall mediaeval buildings and we were lost in back alley land once again. After another half hour, my need for the bathroom had gone from irksome, to urgent and desperation lead me to ignore Holly and look for anything that might lead us back to a more main road, a parking place and a LOO!
Finally, we emerged into daylight and I spotted a parking space on the edge of a small park. We studied the parking signs and couldn’t understand a word of it, but both agreed that the little picture was definitely a tow truck. The 0-24 underneath the picture seemed to suggest that if we didn’t comply with the untranslatable parking instructions, we may return to find our car no longer there.
I didn’t care, we crossed the park, found a gelateria, with (oh, blessed relief) a toilet! The ice cream was pretty good too.
So, back in the car, fortified by cioccolato and amarena variegate (cherry and meringue ripple), we studied several maps, located a suitable car park (at the railway station) and steeled ourselves for another attempt.
To get to this car park, we had to get around what was effectively a huge long roundabout. You know all those stereotypes about Italian drivers – they’re TRUE. They are complete and utter loonies with no concept of lane discipline and the vespa riders are all on a suicide mission. However, because they’re all like that, they manage just fine until you drop a british driver in their midst, trying to get into the correct lane to exit. THREE times we went round that roundabout with horns tooting, drivers swearing and gesticulating, cars and scooters weaving in and out so fast there was simply nowhere to go, but where we were herded by the other cars. Each time, we got no closer to our lane and I’m still amazed that I didn’t kill any vespa riders or get hit by another car.
We’d been in the city for over two hours and this was just getting beyond a joke. On our fourth spin around the roundabout, we both agreed we’d had enough and somehow managed to slingshot ourselves off the roundabout and onto a road that led out of the city. I swear Holly sounded perkier when we told her to take us out of Florence.
It still took a while to get onto the main exit route and once we were back on the motorway, the icing on the cake was the huge traffic jam that we got stuck in!!
We pulled off at a service station, hoping the slow traffic was just rush hour - we needed a plan B and some food! I was absolutely gutted. Florence was supposed to be one of the highlights of the trip. I’d read a wonderful book about the Medici family and was all fired up to see the wonderful art treasures. And instead of a wonderful treat, it had turned into a driving nightmare.
Of course, up to this point, we had deliberately avoided cities along the route, preferring the smaller towns. I had an image in my head of Florence as a mediaeval city and didn’t realise just how big modern Florence is. A note to other travellers, unless you’re Italian or Parisian, don’t even think about driving in this city.
We pondered. Should we find a nearby hotel and have another attempt tomorrow? While studying the map for a likely hotel, I spotted a nearby village called Vinci – yes, the birthplace of Leonardo himself. That settled it, we told Holly we were going to Vinci and we arrived to find a charming, typically tuscan village, with a castly/churchy thing perched atop a hill. The two hotels in the village were full, but the tourist information office found us a lovely farmhouse for the night.
It took a while to find somewhere to eat, but we found a tiny little bar with a restaurant in the basement, full of Italians, where we had another fantastic pizza and spent the evening congratulating ourselves on escaping unscathed from Florence.
I kept getting the video camera trained on the spot on the balcony where he’d landed, only to see him, wise to my tricks, choose a different place to fly into his home. It looked like a thrush – someone please tell me if it’s the males or females that build the nests, I can’t believe I’m that ignorant that I don’t actually know!
The Panorama had an extensive breakfast buffet that went part of the way to compensating for the awful beds. The view across the lake was another plus point, but unless they get new mattresses, we wouldn’t come back here.
Lake Garda is not particularly wide, you could see over to the other side, but so long that you couldn’t see the bottom of the lake. Having that watery horizon gives you a feeling of being by the sea and I can see why the lake is so popular with tourists. Driving back out through the small town at the head of the lake, I was reminded of parts of Cornwall – it would seem this place is very popular with the windsurfers.
Holly the SatNav was telling us that we could get to Florence by about 2.00pm. We set off in high spirits and nothing eventful happened to slow us down. We didn’t stop for lunch – we’d rather get to Florence then get something to eat. That turned out to be a mistake…
We told Holly to take us to the Duomo in Florence (she’s programmed with car parks and points of interest). We followed her instructions to find ourselves in a dirty, noisy, grafitti covered city. I took over the driving and soon found myself winding through tiny backstreets. Imagine narrow alleyways, lined with tall buildings, bikes and scooters down one side, washing strung across balconies above you, people stepping out in front of you whenever they felt like it and vespas whizzing past (on either side of the vehicle) grazing the wing mirrors. It was like something out of a James Bond movie, only in very slow motion.
It was fun for about two minutes, but quickly became stressful, especially when it became apparent that Holly had entered a parallel universe where pedestrianised areas and one way streets don’t exist. Some of the turns she expected us to do were so tight you almost had to do a three point turn. There was an unspoken fear that we were going to end up down a blind alley with no option but to do the whole thing all over again, but backwards!
After half an hour of this, I caught a glimpse of the famous dome of the Duomo, but it quickly disappeared behind the tall mediaeval buildings and we were lost in back alley land once again. After another half hour, my need for the bathroom had gone from irksome, to urgent and desperation lead me to ignore Holly and look for anything that might lead us back to a more main road, a parking place and a LOO!
Finally, we emerged into daylight and I spotted a parking space on the edge of a small park. We studied the parking signs and couldn’t understand a word of it, but both agreed that the little picture was definitely a tow truck. The 0-24 underneath the picture seemed to suggest that if we didn’t comply with the untranslatable parking instructions, we may return to find our car no longer there.
I didn’t care, we crossed the park, found a gelateria, with (oh, blessed relief) a toilet! The ice cream was pretty good too.
So, back in the car, fortified by cioccolato and amarena variegate (cherry and meringue ripple), we studied several maps, located a suitable car park (at the railway station) and steeled ourselves for another attempt.
To get to this car park, we had to get around what was effectively a huge long roundabout. You know all those stereotypes about Italian drivers – they’re TRUE. They are complete and utter loonies with no concept of lane discipline and the vespa riders are all on a suicide mission. However, because they’re all like that, they manage just fine until you drop a british driver in their midst, trying to get into the correct lane to exit. THREE times we went round that roundabout with horns tooting, drivers swearing and gesticulating, cars and scooters weaving in and out so fast there was simply nowhere to go, but where we were herded by the other cars. Each time, we got no closer to our lane and I’m still amazed that I didn’t kill any vespa riders or get hit by another car.
We’d been in the city for over two hours and this was just getting beyond a joke. On our fourth spin around the roundabout, we both agreed we’d had enough and somehow managed to slingshot ourselves off the roundabout and onto a road that led out of the city. I swear Holly sounded perkier when we told her to take us out of Florence.
It still took a while to get onto the main exit route and once we were back on the motorway, the icing on the cake was the huge traffic jam that we got stuck in!!
We pulled off at a service station, hoping the slow traffic was just rush hour - we needed a plan B and some food! I was absolutely gutted. Florence was supposed to be one of the highlights of the trip. I’d read a wonderful book about the Medici family and was all fired up to see the wonderful art treasures. And instead of a wonderful treat, it had turned into a driving nightmare.
Of course, up to this point, we had deliberately avoided cities along the route, preferring the smaller towns. I had an image in my head of Florence as a mediaeval city and didn’t realise just how big modern Florence is. A note to other travellers, unless you’re Italian or Parisian, don’t even think about driving in this city.
We pondered. Should we find a nearby hotel and have another attempt tomorrow? While studying the map for a likely hotel, I spotted a nearby village called Vinci – yes, the birthplace of Leonardo himself. That settled it, we told Holly we were going to Vinci and we arrived to find a charming, typically tuscan village, with a castly/churchy thing perched atop a hill. The two hotels in the village were full, but the tourist information office found us a lovely farmhouse for the night.
It took a while to find somewhere to eat, but we found a tiny little bar with a restaurant in the basement, full of Italians, where we had another fantastic pizza and spent the evening congratulating ourselves on escaping unscathed from Florence.
Day 4: Memmingen to Limone sul Garda
So, first thing next morning, there I was pawing at the door of the craft shop to be let in. One hour and one hundred euros later, I was the proud owner of a small carrier bag containing a satisfying stash of bits and pieces. I found some interesting paper, but quite expensive; some little tiny papier mache easels, but the main spend was on ribbons and trims. This shop goes in for posh table decorations in a big way and they have rolls of ribbon like stuff, but it’s 6 or 8 inches wide, designed to make a long table runner. I have no idea what I will do with it, but just had to have it, as any self-respecting crafter will completely understand.
The weather was glorious – a pleasant change as it has been pretty grey up to now. We set off towards Füssen and after about twenty minutes, the alps suddenly popped up out of nowhere. Seriously, one minute there were green fields, then next minute we came round a bend and the sky was just full of misty blue alps. It was surprisingly familiar – I guess it’s a sight we’ve all seen on countless occasions from naff jigsaws to dodgy musicals. We drove on entranced by these awe inspiring mountains, wondering if they would ever get any closer, or always have that distant look to them.
Over the course of the day we found several places to stop and take photos, but none of them can convey the amazing clarity of the air and the sheer beauty of the place. When I look at the photos we have taken, they almost look like a cliché, they just don’t do the place justice.
We got to Füssen to find it the predictable tourist trap for visitors to Neuschwanstein, and followed the well beaten path to the castle ourselves. The parking is in a small valley at the foot of the castle, where there is one of the highest concentrations of restaurants I’ve ever seen. How convenient, we’d arrived just in time for lunch!
So, we gazed on Neuschwanstein from afar, but with no real desire to join the crowds inside. We were more than happy to let the castle be a rather striking focal point to our photos of the alps!
We covered a lot of ground today, driving right through the Austrian Tyrol and on into Italy through the Brenner Pass. German and Austrian roads are well maintained, but once into Italy, we noticed a difference. We couldn’t quite place it at first, but things seemed dirtier somehow. After a while we realised that the central barrier on the motorway had changed from concrete or grey steel, to a very rusty looking brown – not particularly confidence inspiring. The driving style had also changed, but more of that later…
The motorway is quite a feat of engineering – no good if you don’t like tunnels as it frequently takes you right through the mountains. In other places the road is a giant bridge across a valley, with carefully placed railings so you can’t get vertigo from the incredible drop below. At other times, I could see the road snaking ahead – half carved into the mountain side, half resting on pilings. It is no surprise that these motorways are all toll roads.
As we descended from the Alps, we came into the Italian mountain range known as the Dolomites. We stopped for petrol and looked at the map to set that evening’s target – there was only one choice really, Lake Garda.
So we pushed on and finally came to a delightful little village called Limone sul Garda, where, not surprisingly, they grow lemons. The hotel we found, the Panorama, was upside down – you entered at the same level as the road, then there were six floors below, built into the steep hillside, each room with balcony overlooking the lake.
Our evening meal was our first outdoors. We’d driven through rainstorms the day before, and here we were still sitting outside at 9pm – this is definitely starting to feel like we are on holiday! We celebrated our arrival in Italy with pizza – no deep pan here, thank you very much, but a delightfully thin, traditional pizza and another complimentary drink to finish – the local speciality, limoncella.
Day 3: Eltvile to Memmingen
Our hotel was very quiet, so we had a good night’s sleep and woke up refreshed, though I did still feel like I was on the boat – weird! We packed up and set out to visit the nearby monastery before heading on our way.
Kloster Eberbach is an extremely well preserved example of a cistercian monastery, with a totally different feel to abbeys and priories that we’ve seen in England. The main basilica was stone, but a lot of the other buildings were of typical mediaeval timber construction, but with the timbers painted a rich russet colour, rather than the black and white you see in England.
The chapter house had some beautiful fresco decorations – delicate flowers, lilies I think (I’m sure they are associated with the Madonna).
The main basilica just blew me away. It is almost completely empty now, and the atmosphere is just incredibly holy. We didn’t feel like taking photos in there, but just soaked up the peaceful atmosphere.
We looked around the little museum there and they had a tiny byzantine cross that was found in the roof in 1992 by architects who were surveying it after storm damage. The cross was wrapped in cloth and turned out to be a double hinged reliquary cross with a fragment of blue cloth inside. Dates back to 1600s, and they believe that the abbot would have placed it in the roof of the basilica to protect the monastery, probably paying an exorbitant amount for what purported to be a fragment of the virgin’s robe, but almost certainly isn’t.
As the guide was explaining it to me, I could just imagine the excitement of the find, and images of Time Team kept popping into my head – Phil showing the cross to Tony and saying “look at that!”
[My rusty German was just about able to cope with the tour guide’s explanation, but just in case anyone out there knows better than me, I reserve the right to have misunderstood everything he said!]
So after a couple of hours, we got back into Beauty (we do have this tendency to christen everything – my car’s called Beauty because she’s a bit of a beast … well it makes sense to us!) and headed for the nearest Konditorei to fuel up on sandwiches, kirschstreuselkuche (sponge on the bottom, cherries and sweet crunchy crumble on the top – yummy) and Erdbeerplunder (a rich Danish with fresh strawberries). This trip is going to be very dangerous for our waistlines!
We had a loose plan to head down to Bavaria and see Neuschwanstein on the way. That’s the fairytale castle built by “mad” King Ludwig and familiar to any Disney visitor as it inspired their famous castle. However, the zippy German Autobahn let us down a bit today by cluttering things up with roadworks. Plus we got into some heavy rain for a while, so we realised mid afternoon that we weren’t going to make it to Füssen, the little town we were headed for.
After a scout around on the map, we pulled in to a town called Memmingen. Neither of us had heard of it and at first glance, we were thinking of driving on, but then we found a delightful mediaeval gateway that led us into a charming ‘altstadt’ with a real pied piper feel to it.
We found ourselves a hotel, checked in then set of to find food. We found ourselves a Mexican restaurant and settled down to margheritas and enchiladas. At the end of the meal, we were given a complimentary shot of tequila, but instead of the usual lime and salt, it came with a slice of orange dusted with cinnamon! Different, but we both agreed that it went really well together. We resisted the urge to stay there all night drinking tequila and I was rewarded by finding a CRAFT SHOP on the way back - guess where my first stop is tomorrow!
Kloster Eberbach is an extremely well preserved example of a cistercian monastery, with a totally different feel to abbeys and priories that we’ve seen in England. The main basilica was stone, but a lot of the other buildings were of typical mediaeval timber construction, but with the timbers painted a rich russet colour, rather than the black and white you see in England.
The chapter house had some beautiful fresco decorations – delicate flowers, lilies I think (I’m sure they are associated with the Madonna).
The main basilica just blew me away. It is almost completely empty now, and the atmosphere is just incredibly holy. We didn’t feel like taking photos in there, but just soaked up the peaceful atmosphere.
We looked around the little museum there and they had a tiny byzantine cross that was found in the roof in 1992 by architects who were surveying it after storm damage. The cross was wrapped in cloth and turned out to be a double hinged reliquary cross with a fragment of blue cloth inside. Dates back to 1600s, and they believe that the abbot would have placed it in the roof of the basilica to protect the monastery, probably paying an exorbitant amount for what purported to be a fragment of the virgin’s robe, but almost certainly isn’t.
As the guide was explaining it to me, I could just imagine the excitement of the find, and images of Time Team kept popping into my head – Phil showing the cross to Tony and saying “look at that!”
[My rusty German was just about able to cope with the tour guide’s explanation, but just in case anyone out there knows better than me, I reserve the right to have misunderstood everything he said!]
So after a couple of hours, we got back into Beauty (we do have this tendency to christen everything – my car’s called Beauty because she’s a bit of a beast … well it makes sense to us!) and headed for the nearest Konditorei to fuel up on sandwiches, kirschstreuselkuche (sponge on the bottom, cherries and sweet crunchy crumble on the top – yummy) and Erdbeerplunder (a rich Danish with fresh strawberries). This trip is going to be very dangerous for our waistlines!
We had a loose plan to head down to Bavaria and see Neuschwanstein on the way. That’s the fairytale castle built by “mad” King Ludwig and familiar to any Disney visitor as it inspired their famous castle. However, the zippy German Autobahn let us down a bit today by cluttering things up with roadworks. Plus we got into some heavy rain for a while, so we realised mid afternoon that we weren’t going to make it to Füssen, the little town we were headed for.
After a scout around on the map, we pulled in to a town called Memmingen. Neither of us had heard of it and at first glance, we were thinking of driving on, but then we found a delightful mediaeval gateway that led us into a charming ‘altstadt’ with a real pied piper feel to it.
We found ourselves a hotel, checked in then set of to find food. We found ourselves a Mexican restaurant and settled down to margheritas and enchiladas. At the end of the meal, we were given a complimentary shot of tequila, but instead of the usual lime and salt, it came with a slice of orange dusted with cinnamon! Different, but we both agreed that it went really well together. We resisted the urge to stay there all night drinking tequila and I was rewarded by finding a CRAFT SHOP on the way back - guess where my first stop is tomorrow!
Day 2: Ijmuiden – Eltville am Rhein
We docked at Ijmuiden, Amsterdam a little later than scheduled and we were in the car, ready to set off on our epic journey by about 10am. Adrian had spent ages on Saturday night downloading all the relevant European maps onto our SatNav, who we christened Holly (from Red Dwarf). Well, the name might have been a dangerous choice because as soon as we got off the ferry, she sent us off to the left, when we were convinced from the map that we should go straight on. But she turned out to know exactly what she was doing and probably saved us a significant amount of money by beeping out a warning every time we approached a speed camera. Holland is littered with them – every five minutes it seemed there was another one, and they’re not bright yellow like they are in England, they are an easily missed grey!
Many countries in Europe require you to drive with your headlights on all the time, so we stopped not far outside Amsterdam and stuck a couple of plastic circles onto the headlights to deflect our British beam from dazzling all the continental drivers, then, seemingly within minutes, we found ourselves in Germany.
And boy, could you tell the German drivers. I thought my car was fast (I have an Impreza WRX for anyone who is interested in these things), but those BMWs and Mercedes would just whiz by – easily doing 130-140 mph and coming up right behind you. In fact, in general, we’ve found that there’s none of this ‘two chevrons between you and the car in front’ nonsense, more like two inches if you’re lucky.
So, we found ourselves covering the miles pretty quickly on the autobahn and decided to take the scenic route from Koblenz, down the Rhine valley. The change of pace was nice after so much motorway and the scenery was worth it. The Rhine is a big river, still used a lot for commercial traffic, so amongst the pleasure cruisers, there were barges piled high with coal or lumber. The valley sides were very steep and rocky in places, but where the land allowed, there were vines planted – this is Riesling country.
We passed by the Loreley – the legendary long haired maiden who would sing to lure sailors to their death on the rocks, and round every corner there was another castle or church or monastery perched atop a craggy mountain. We had a destination in mind – Eltville am Rhein, a small village near Kloster Eberbach – a beautifully preserved 12th century monastery.
I spent a year in Frankfurt, back in 1992/93 and I’ve never been back to Germany since, so I’d wondered about going into Frankfurt itself to re-visit old haunts, but in the end we decided that we wanted to avoid cities as much as possible on this trip. Flights are so cheap these days that there are often city breaks available if we wanted to “do” a European city.
We arrived in Eltville in the early evening and found the tourist information office open. Opening hours are somewhat different to England, often there’s a longer lunch break, but later closing times. We got ourselves booked into a little hotel called Hotel Sonnenberg, then went to eat at an Italian restaurant called Killian’s Keller. Looking ahead to our Italian destination, we opted for pizza and calzone, with a Colorino red wine to wash it down.
Many countries in Europe require you to drive with your headlights on all the time, so we stopped not far outside Amsterdam and stuck a couple of plastic circles onto the headlights to deflect our British beam from dazzling all the continental drivers, then, seemingly within minutes, we found ourselves in Germany.
And boy, could you tell the German drivers. I thought my car was fast (I have an Impreza WRX for anyone who is interested in these things), but those BMWs and Mercedes would just whiz by – easily doing 130-140 mph and coming up right behind you. In fact, in general, we’ve found that there’s none of this ‘two chevrons between you and the car in front’ nonsense, more like two inches if you’re lucky.
So, we found ourselves covering the miles pretty quickly on the autobahn and decided to take the scenic route from Koblenz, down the Rhine valley. The change of pace was nice after so much motorway and the scenery was worth it. The Rhine is a big river, still used a lot for commercial traffic, so amongst the pleasure cruisers, there were barges piled high with coal or lumber. The valley sides were very steep and rocky in places, but where the land allowed, there were vines planted – this is Riesling country.
We passed by the Loreley – the legendary long haired maiden who would sing to lure sailors to their death on the rocks, and round every corner there was another castle or church or monastery perched atop a craggy mountain. We had a destination in mind – Eltville am Rhein, a small village near Kloster Eberbach – a beautifully preserved 12th century monastery.
I spent a year in Frankfurt, back in 1992/93 and I’ve never been back to Germany since, so I’d wondered about going into Frankfurt itself to re-visit old haunts, but in the end we decided that we wanted to avoid cities as much as possible on this trip. Flights are so cheap these days that there are often city breaks available if we wanted to “do” a European city.
We arrived in Eltville in the early evening and found the tourist information office open. Opening hours are somewhat different to England, often there’s a longer lunch break, but later closing times. We got ourselves booked into a little hotel called Hotel Sonnenberg, then went to eat at an Italian restaurant called Killian’s Keller. Looking ahead to our Italian destination, we opted for pizza and calzone, with a Colorino red wine to wash it down.
Day 1: Newcastle to Amsterdam
We spent most of Sunday packing – the huge advantage of taking your own car abroad is that you can fill it full of stuff; the huge disadvantage is that you can fill it full of stuff …
We came up with a cunning plan of taking one large and one small suitcase. As we were going to be in a different place each night for a week, the small suitcase would be our overnight bag, with the rest of our finery in the large case.
It worked to a certain extent, with an extra holdall for shoes, hairdryer, books and maps, then we remembered all the absolutely necessary clothes that were in the tumble dryer - yet another holdall required. Plus the large art box, the small art bag, the camera, the binoculars, two laptops, all the various chargers, leads and adaptors and the car was looking pretty full.
So, the warning triangle, the first aid kit, the fire extinguisher, the spare headlight bulbs and the day-glo jackets (all required by law in various countries we were passing through) ended up being squeezed in underneath the floor of the boot – heaven help us if we need any of them, we’ll have to unpack the entire car first!
Finally, cats were packed off to the cattery and we were ready to go.
We sailed overnight on the Queen of Scandinavia, waved off from the quay by the charming sight of North Shields best naked bottoms – yes we were mooned at by local yobs!
We ate in the “round the world” buffet – nice, but rather overpriced. The weather was grey and drizzly, but apart from the usual gentle swell, very calm. After all the frantic rushing around getting packed, we both felt a huge sense of relief and decided to crash out early – we have a long way to go tomorrow.
We came up with a cunning plan of taking one large and one small suitcase. As we were going to be in a different place each night for a week, the small suitcase would be our overnight bag, with the rest of our finery in the large case.
It worked to a certain extent, with an extra holdall for shoes, hairdryer, books and maps, then we remembered all the absolutely necessary clothes that were in the tumble dryer - yet another holdall required. Plus the large art box, the small art bag, the camera, the binoculars, two laptops, all the various chargers, leads and adaptors and the car was looking pretty full.
So, the warning triangle, the first aid kit, the fire extinguisher, the spare headlight bulbs and the day-glo jackets (all required by law in various countries we were passing through) ended up being squeezed in underneath the floor of the boot – heaven help us if we need any of them, we’ll have to unpack the entire car first!
Finally, cats were packed off to the cattery and we were ready to go.
We sailed overnight on the Queen of Scandinavia, waved off from the quay by the charming sight of North Shields best naked bottoms – yes we were mooned at by local yobs!
We ate in the “round the world” buffet – nice, but rather overpriced. The weather was grey and drizzly, but apart from the usual gentle swell, very calm. After all the frantic rushing around getting packed, we both felt a huge sense of relief and decided to crash out early – we have a long way to go tomorrow.
Day 1: Newcastle to Amsterdam
We spent most of Sunday packing – the huge advantage of taking your own car abroad is that you can fill it full of stuff; the huge disadvantage is that you can fill it full of stuff …
We came up with a cunning plan of taking one large and one small suitcase. As we were going to be in a different place each night for a week, the small suitcase would be our overnight bag, with the rest of our finery in the large case.
It worked to a certain extent, with an extra holdall for shoes, hairdryer, books and maps, then we remembered all the absolutely necessary clothes that were in the tumble dryer - yet another holdall required. Plus the large art box, the small art bag, the camera, the binoculars, two laptops, all the various chargers, leads and adaptors and the car was looking pretty full.
So, the warning triangle, the first aid kit, the fire extinguisher, the spare headlight bulbs and the day-glo jackets (all required by law in various countries we were passing through) ended up being squeezed in underneath the floor of the boot – heaven help us if we need any of them, we’ll have to unpack the entire car first!
Finally, cats were packed off to the cattery and we were ready to go.
We sailed overnight on the Queen of Scandinavia, waved off from the quay by the charming sight of North Shields best naked bottoms – yes we were mooned at by local yobs!
Our cabin was comfortable – we’d booked a twin rather than bunk beds. I don’t like sleeping on the top bunk and I once spent a night on a ferry terrified that the bunk above me couldn’t take Adrian’s weight and was going to give way any minute – not conducive to a good night’s sleep!
We ate in the “round the world” buffet – nice, but rather overpriced. The weather was grey and drizzly, but apart from the usual gentle swell, very calm. After all the frantic rushing around getting packed, we both felt a huge sense of relief and decided to crash out early – we have a long way to go tomorrow.
We came up with a cunning plan of taking one large and one small suitcase. As we were going to be in a different place each night for a week, the small suitcase would be our overnight bag, with the rest of our finery in the large case.
It worked to a certain extent, with an extra holdall for shoes, hairdryer, books and maps, then we remembered all the absolutely necessary clothes that were in the tumble dryer - yet another holdall required. Plus the large art box, the small art bag, the camera, the binoculars, two laptops, all the various chargers, leads and adaptors and the car was looking pretty full.
So, the warning triangle, the first aid kit, the fire extinguisher, the spare headlight bulbs and the day-glo jackets (all required by law in various countries we were passing through) ended up being squeezed in underneath the floor of the boot – heaven help us if we need any of them, we’ll have to unpack the entire car first!
Finally, cats were packed off to the cattery and we were ready to go.
We sailed overnight on the Queen of Scandinavia, waved off from the quay by the charming sight of North Shields best naked bottoms – yes we were mooned at by local yobs!
Our cabin was comfortable – we’d booked a twin rather than bunk beds. I don’t like sleeping on the top bunk and I once spent a night on a ferry terrified that the bunk above me couldn’t take Adrian’s weight and was going to give way any minute – not conducive to a good night’s sleep!
We ate in the “round the world” buffet – nice, but rather overpriced. The weather was grey and drizzly, but apart from the usual gentle swell, very calm. After all the frantic rushing around getting packed, we both felt a huge sense of relief and decided to crash out early – we have a long way to go tomorrow.
Trip to Pienza, Italy
We are about to embark on a fairly epic road trip through Europe to Italy where I will be taking a one week class with Lesley Riley at Art & Soul Italy.
I've been planning this for months - it's been the treat that's kept me going throughout the stresses of the move and I've been involved in various forum discussions on the net to work out routes, places to visit, places to stay etc. I have enjoyed reading other people's travel blogs and opinions on the places they have stayed, eaten, slept, etc, so I'd like to share our trip too.
We won't have internet access throughout the entire trip, but when we do, I will update the blog, and keep it in date order.
The joy of taking our own car is that we don't have to worry about weight restrictions or putting our liquids in silly little bottles. The downside is I'll end up taking far too much stuff!
The itinerary is fairly loose - we sail from Newcastle to Amsterdam tomorrow, with the return ferry on May 29th. On May 28th, we put the car on a Motorail train at Livorno, near Pisa, in Italy and Deutsche Bahn take us all the way to Dusseldorf overnight.
Apart from those fixed points and the course itself, we can please ourselves what route we take. So watch this space ...
I've been planning this for months - it's been the treat that's kept me going throughout the stresses of the move and I've been involved in various forum discussions on the net to work out routes, places to visit, places to stay etc. I have enjoyed reading other people's travel blogs and opinions on the places they have stayed, eaten, slept, etc, so I'd like to share our trip too.
We won't have internet access throughout the entire trip, but when we do, I will update the blog, and keep it in date order.
The joy of taking our own car is that we don't have to worry about weight restrictions or putting our liquids in silly little bottles. The downside is I'll end up taking far too much stuff!
The itinerary is fairly loose - we sail from Newcastle to Amsterdam tomorrow, with the return ferry on May 29th. On May 28th, we put the car on a Motorail train at Livorno, near Pisa, in Italy and Deutsche Bahn take us all the way to Dusseldorf overnight.
Apart from those fixed points and the course itself, we can please ourselves what route we take. So watch this space ...
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