Switzerland
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
Wednesday, 22 June 2011
England and Wales
Found a hotel adjacent to the motorway near Arundel Castle and a BP station and MacDonalds. Great to see the green countryside, narrow lanes and passing showers again. Real Beer too though I was not in a fit shape to partake just yet.
Public Holiday (long weekend) so the traffic was pretty heavy. Didnt help when 4 lanes of traffic belting along had to be squeezed into a single lane due to a truck break down ahead of us. When we finally got passed the #$@# thing, it turned out to be a Highway Maintenance truck! No bonus for you this week.
Cruised down past Abbotskerswell and met up finally with Bryan Juliet Sylvia and Jason at Fernway Garden Center. Wonderful to see them all, B and J the same, Sylvia a little taller but Jason has shot up into a wee lad now. Big hugs all around then we jumped into our cars to check BJs new house to be in Ipplepen, a few km down the road. Bigger house, detached and room for the kids to grow. Excellent purchase I reckon.
Great to get our washing washed and dried, excellent weather too. Had lunch in a Garden Center, the kids had tremendous joy fun splashing in the water trough there. Old church next door which had people dressed in their best turning up to, so we had to wait for the bride who was suitably late - the bells rang out (a little out of tune I thought) and everyone was happy. Sylvia was a little disappointed with the dress I think.
Off to ???? Estate. Beautifully maintained grounds, old as - Roman origins - and naturally haunted. Juliets sister who had studied here swears she had seen a ghost in the grounds after a night out. Then everyone came out with their ghost stories so it was an interesting afternoon sitting in the gardens supping on english ale (and Bourbon & coke). Another wedding inside the Grand Hall so Sylvia was excited too.
Next day we had a day out taking the Devon steam train from Totnes to ???? beside the River ??? up to a Butterfly farm and Otter refuge. Steam engines are a huge thing here with wonderful display of some of the originals and everything in keeping with the age of steam, including some of the weird characters who run the place. Butterfly farm was warm and wonderful, the flying things werent too bad either. Otter refuge was a high light, a commited had 8 pens with otters from all over the world, feeding them as he went pen to pen with a bit of background on each. One wasnt hungrey as he had just caught a seagull, maybe we should employ them in New Brighton for a bit of pest control there.
Monday was over to Dartmoor to the wee village of Widdicombe in the Moor where we had a great old fashioned Pub Meal and a pint at the Rugglestone Inn. The white ducks beside the creek running through the garden really made the scene into one from the Puddleducks. No sneaky foxes but lots of weird chickens cleaning up the grounds. Juliets sister, Helen, and her Mother had joined us so it was a real family get together, I suspect Bryan has a lot to do with Juliets family as they are pretty close knit, good for the kids to have a lot of family support.
Tuesday was settiing out for Wales via Exeter after sorting out our money.Said our goodbyes and left our temporary home. Bit of a worry navigating our way out of the maze that surrounds Little Hempston. All the tiny lanes look the same, especially if you are lost. Fortunately no large white vans this time and everyone is polite, backing back to the last passing bay for you most of the time. Eventually found our own way to town, meet up with Bryan one last time then off to Wales via the M4 past Exeter and Bristol. Missed a few turnoffs so saw some scenery three times but all was good.
Cruised up to Abergavenny in mid Wales and found ourselves in a Paraplegic unit with so much room.Had a meal in the hotel, probably the worst ever, but maybe we were spoilt by the excellent French cuisine aboard La Belle. I still wasnt that great next day so we found a medical center and managed to get some antibiotics. Then off to see the sea at the furtherest point, zooming along various roads finally reaching ???? where thousands of tourists obviously flock to every year. Nice sandy beach but windblown much like Waimairi beach at home. The return plan was over the Brecon Beacons and back down to Abergavenny to stay another night. Rolling countryside and cute villages every few km with unpronouncable Welsh names made it seems quite foreign. Up and over the high bleak hills of the Beacons with rain and mist swirling around it seemed appropriate to come across a castle, Craig-y-nos, with a pub and hotel. Naturally popped in for a pint and a chat with some Poms who were staying in the haunted room. They seemed pretty relaxed about it really.
Home to Abergavenny where we ate out. We had a relaxing morning next day and off to Bristol Airport to find a pub to stay the night. Getting the hang of this Motorway driving with only one mistake which cost us a lot of time as we went back into rush hour Bristol! Finally found our way and found an old Pub (The Crown) with no rooms no patrons but great atmosphere. Drowned our sorrows then went to another pub which was very rough then finally slept in a featureless airport hotel which did the trick.
Flew out to Zurich via Amsterdam early the next day. The flight from Amsterdam was stopped for an hour while we changed planes as our one was missing a part. KLM Airlines is not on my list of preferential airlines anymore. We were then delayed further as the plane taking off prior had a bird strike and had to land again. Crikey time to go by train I reckon.
Finally up and away and landed in Zurich shortly thereafter.
Tuesday, 21 June 2011
Mljet to Jolly Ol England
Mljet, back to Dubrovnik and then onto Jolly Ol England
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After leaving the port of Korcula we chugged off into the rising sun for Mjlet, a supposedly fabulous green haven mostly comprised of a protected National Park. We slipped passed the usual barren rocky islets, peninsulas and reefs sticking out of the Adriatic. Tricky navigation I would have thought, I am glad the weather was nigh on perfect for such excursions. The ancient Greeks were originally here and named the island Melite which is much the same name as today. Romans and Byzantines were followed by the Bendictine Monks who built a magnificent Monastery. Great.
We anchored offshore and clambered onto the Tender to go ashore. The French on board seem very dogged in their determination to be first off, however with us Kiwis usually bringing up the rear anyway it wasnt an issue.
Mjlet was indeed a forested island, we were greeted on the quay by a friendly 'greenie' who had taken the protection of the islands fauna and flora to heart. Good news there are no snakes here and the bad news is the reason why - someone had released Mongooses on the island which after knocking off all the snakes were now knocking off everything else they could get their greedy little paws on. Familiar story ?
Undaunted by all that our guide enthusiastically lead us on a merry chase through the sparsely wooded terrain to two secret lakes in the middle of the island, one of which contained the 1151 Monastery on its own islet. We were to have a boat trip across but the boat was delayed, it arrived in due course and we wandered around the island after checking out the old Monastery. Small but well preserved. It had been converted into a Hotel (shock horrer), but had recently returned to the Monastic Order who had kept a little income from having a restaurant and people to stay. Winners all round and we get to see a lovely little Monastery on its own islet in Mjlet. Most interesting thing was bumping into a bunch of Kiwis doing a cycling tour of Crotia. NZers are everywhere!
Back to the quay, reboarded and off to Dubrovnik. The staff all sang something cute in French as we arrived for the last meal. The ships company had planned a Gala Evening with a fabulous surprise at the end. Denise still not feeling 100% but we made the most of it.
Five courses with various wines, finished off with a flaming baked alaska being presented to the guests. We were suitably impressed and finished off a week of the best cordon bleu french cooking ever. Not exactly sure if thats the right word but it sounds good.
Early morning start for the airport; we had taken the kiwi style, sussed out the local bus and figured ou thow to get there. Only we hadnt figured on Croatian Customs when departing the port. The direct route out to the bus station (which I had walked thru 30 minutes before) was now VERBOTEN. We had to lug our packs (heavy - still containing Denises free Bourbon) all the way back past the boat (laughing at us Im sure) around to the main exit and back to the station, naturally missing our bus. Fortunately there was another to the airport arriving in plenty of time for the flight to Gatwick. The French arrived en masse a little later, threw out a cordon and secured half the cafe airport for Gaul. Bon voyage and good bye.
It was a direct 2.5 hour flight to London Gatwick except I wasnt feeling that good now so was glad to get on the ground. Excellent customs except we were in the 'Other Passport' queue, one officer, and truckloads of elderly,infirm and disabled types all scooted thru asap ahead of us, it took a while to get through. Anyway we struggled around the massive place with our packs etc finally finding the Hertz Rental car. What now - we were missing a vital number so couldnt confirm the car was prepaid. At least we were speaking in English, albeit to a non-English person. Half an hour got that one sorted then as I was unwell Denises driving was unleashed on an unsuspecting public. Roundabouts were true to name, several times around the same one on occasion.Denise said a few choice words though I suspect worse was said in cars and trucks adjacent to us. Although in her defence she hadnt driven a manual for a while, and stalling every now and then in a busy roundabout or intersection is to be expected. After she had had her fun she decided it was my turn.
So I had a crack at it, could drive Ok but not sure where to go. Eventually after much ado found a motorway going in the direction of Bryan and Juliets place in Devon and zoomed off at a great rate of knots to find somewhere to sleep along the way.
We anchored offshore and clambered onto the Tender to go ashore. The French on board seem very dogged in their determination to be first off, however with us Kiwis usually bringing up the rear anyway it wasnt an issue.
Mjlet was indeed a forested island, we were greeted on the quay by a friendly 'greenie' who had taken the protection of the islands fauna and flora to heart. Good news there are no snakes here and the bad news is the reason why - someone had released Mongooses on the island which after knocking off all the snakes were now knocking off everything else they could get their greedy little paws on. Familiar story ?
Undaunted by all that our guide enthusiastically lead us on a merry chase through the sparsely wooded terrain to two secret lakes in the middle of the island, one of which contained the 1151 Monastery on its own islet. We were to have a boat trip across but the boat was delayed, it arrived in due course and we wandered around the island after checking out the old Monastery. Small but well preserved. It had been converted into a Hotel (shock horrer), but had recently returned to the Monastic Order who had kept a little income from having a restaurant and people to stay. Winners all round and we get to see a lovely little Monastery on its own islet in Mjlet. Most interesting thing was bumping into a bunch of Kiwis doing a cycling tour of Crotia. NZers are everywhere!
Back to the quay, reboarded and off to Dubrovnik. The staff all sang something cute in French as we arrived for the last meal. The ships company had planned a Gala Evening with a fabulous surprise at the end. Denise still not feeling 100% but we made the most of it.
Five courses with various wines, finished off with a flaming baked alaska being presented to the guests. We were suitably impressed and finished off a week of the best cordon bleu french cooking ever. Not exactly sure if thats the right word but it sounds good.
Early morning start for the airport; we had taken the kiwi style, sussed out the local bus and figured ou thow to get there. Only we hadnt figured on Croatian Customs when departing the port. The direct route out to the bus station (which I had walked thru 30 minutes before) was now VERBOTEN. We had to lug our packs (heavy - still containing Denises free Bourbon) all the way back past the boat (laughing at us Im sure) around to the main exit and back to the station, naturally missing our bus. Fortunately there was another to the airport arriving in plenty of time for the flight to Gatwick. The French arrived en masse a little later, threw out a cordon and secured half the cafe airport for Gaul. Bon voyage and good bye.
It was a direct 2.5 hour flight to London Gatwick except I wasnt feeling that good now so was glad to get on the ground. Excellent customs except we were in the 'Other Passport' queue, one officer, and truckloads of elderly,infirm and disabled types all scooted thru asap ahead of us, it took a while to get through. Anyway we struggled around the massive place with our packs etc finally finding the Hertz Rental car. What now - we were missing a vital number so couldnt confirm the car was prepaid. At least we were speaking in English, albeit to a non-English person. Half an hour got that one sorted then as I was unwell Denises driving was unleashed on an unsuspecting public. Roundabouts were true to name, several times around the same one on occasion.Denise said a few choice words though I suspect worse was said in cars and trucks adjacent to us. Although in her defence she hadnt driven a manual for a while, and stalling every now and then in a busy roundabout or intersection is to be expected. After she had had her fun she decided it was my turn.
So I had a crack at it, could drive Ok but not sure where to go. Eventually after much ado found a motorway going in the direction of Bryan and Juliets place in Devon and zoomed off at a great rate of knots to find somewhere to sleep along the way.
Saturday, 11 June 2011
Hvar to Korcula
Hvar to Korcula
Cruising to Hvar through the night - we did have a midnight pause there somewhere which after having difficulty getting to sleep, woke us up when it stopped, off to sleep again then reawoke when our boat restarted. Noisy ship compared to the Odyssey which you hardly knew you were on board a boat most of the time, but this one has a low monotonous drone which is very irritating, but this may be due to sensivity of its occupants ( i.e. us) rather than proximity to the engine room. See through curtains also ensure we get woken rather early which wasnt appreciated much either. One can however compensate to a certain extent with the endless wine and fabulous food. One aspect I must mention are the Filipino staff, 90% of waiting, cleaning and general dogsbody types are from the Phillipines. They are great and while they may not be as coolly efficient as the Odyssey, they are lively and add a lot of character.
Hvar had been written up as the new St Tropaz. Lots of sunshine (2,700 hours pa) and little rain. The Poms on board where rather enthusiastic about Hvar, considering their climate. Actually to tell you the truth the Christchurchians were too.
We caught up with our guide and wandered off into the old town, via the Fransciscan Monastery. Nice just to poke around the old twisted streets seeing whats what and getting the odd cold can of coke zero to remind us we are in the 21st century. Plenty of money tied up at the wharf too, very nice for some.
Not a lot of room to manoevour for the big boat in departing for the Island of Vis, the Captain getting a bit dramatic with the horn when a small cruiser/yacht got in the way whilst completing his 3 point turn. There are a lot of hire craft out there so I suspect a part timer wont be crossing paths with our Belle again.
Vis I cant remember. Its an island in the Adriatic where we had lunch. Didnt rain.
On board after Vis we settled in for a snooze in the afternoon sun on board the Sundeck. So did a few French types, although I have to say the sight of a 70 plus year old woman (actually several men and women) strutting their stuff with saggy bits all over was not a pleasant sight. Geriatrics with bikinis and budgie (or canary?) smugglers! - please get on your fluffy slippers, dressing gowns and shuffle back to your resthome. Made even worse by one particularly bad offender snoring loudly as he lay asleep in the sun getting a little extra tan on his leather hide.
Arrived in the town of Korcula in time for a Folklore Show. About 8pm we were all herded down the gangplank and into a modern theatre for a stylised sword fight. Real steel swords slashing left and right, sending sparks flying in a carefully choreographed show, all accompanied by an orchestra. One mis-hit though and you would know all about it. Makes the English Morris Dancing look like pansies waving their hankies. I would suspect violence is not too far under the surface here with the Serbian/Croatian/Bosnian war and its alleged genocides within the memory of most people that we meet. There seems to be a quite a need to appear to be normal here now.
Korcula is a wonderful medieval old town, much retained from the Venetian days, and supposedly the birthplace of Marco Polo. The Marco Polo Shop is run by a NZer who had run away to do a Shirley Valentine imitation and live a life in the sun. The streets run off the spine of the main street like a fish bone. designed so to reduce wind and sun! Another superb example of craftmanship in the building of the local cathedral, which also has a couple of Tintoretto paintings of the usual Virgin Mary, Last Supper etc. The Church must have totally dominated lives then as 1. All painting were as above - no exceptions, and 2. Nothing much else of importance was ever built ( except fortifications)
Cruising to Hvar through the night - we did have a midnight pause there somewhere which after having difficulty getting to sleep, woke us up when it stopped, off to sleep again then reawoke when our boat restarted. Noisy ship compared to the Odyssey which you hardly knew you were on board a boat most of the time, but this one has a low monotonous drone which is very irritating, but this may be due to sensivity of its occupants ( i.e. us) rather than proximity to the engine room. See through curtains also ensure we get woken rather early which wasnt appreciated much either. One can however compensate to a certain extent with the endless wine and fabulous food. One aspect I must mention are the Filipino staff, 90% of waiting, cleaning and general dogsbody types are from the Phillipines. They are great and while they may not be as coolly efficient as the Odyssey, they are lively and add a lot of character.
Hvar had been written up as the new St Tropaz. Lots of sunshine (2,700 hours pa) and little rain. The Poms on board where rather enthusiastic about Hvar, considering their climate. Actually to tell you the truth the Christchurchians were too.
We caught up with our guide and wandered off into the old town, via the Fransciscan Monastery. Nice just to poke around the old twisted streets seeing whats what and getting the odd cold can of coke zero to remind us we are in the 21st century. Plenty of money tied up at the wharf too, very nice for some.
Not a lot of room to manoevour for the big boat in departing for the Island of Vis, the Captain getting a bit dramatic with the horn when a small cruiser/yacht got in the way whilst completing his 3 point turn. There are a lot of hire craft out there so I suspect a part timer wont be crossing paths with our Belle again.
Vis I cant remember. Its an island in the Adriatic where we had lunch. Didnt rain.
On board after Vis we settled in for a snooze in the afternoon sun on board the Sundeck. So did a few French types, although I have to say the sight of a 70 plus year old woman (actually several men and women) strutting their stuff with saggy bits all over was not a pleasant sight. Geriatrics with bikinis and budgie (or canary?) smugglers! - please get on your fluffy slippers, dressing gowns and shuffle back to your resthome. Made even worse by one particularly bad offender snoring loudly as he lay asleep in the sun getting a little extra tan on his leather hide.
Arrived in the town of Korcula in time for a Folklore Show. About 8pm we were all herded down the gangplank and into a modern theatre for a stylised sword fight. Real steel swords slashing left and right, sending sparks flying in a carefully choreographed show, all accompanied by an orchestra. One mis-hit though and you would know all about it. Makes the English Morris Dancing look like pansies waving their hankies. I would suspect violence is not too far under the surface here with the Serbian/Croatian/Bosnian war and its alleged genocides within the memory of most people that we meet. There seems to be a quite a need to appear to be normal here now.
Korcula is a wonderful medieval old town, much retained from the Venetian days, and supposedly the birthplace of Marco Polo. The Marco Polo Shop is run by a NZer who had run away to do a Shirley Valentine imitation and live a life in the sun. The streets run off the spine of the main street like a fish bone. designed so to reduce wind and sun! Another superb example of craftmanship in the building of the local cathedral, which also has a couple of Tintoretto paintings of the usual Virgin Mary, Last Supper etc. The Church must have totally dominated lives then as 1. All painting were as above - no exceptions, and 2. Nothing much else of importance was ever built ( except fortifications)
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