After a few false alarms, I finally got up about 8, prepared and had breakfast. I was able to have Vegemite on toast, but the white bread here just does not taste the same as at home (and it doesn’t taste as good as white rolls here, and of course nowhere near the taste of baguettes). After that I sorted out a few things from the car and went to walk from here to the airport station and … guess what, you CAN’T walk! There is no pedestrian access into the airport.
I had a little look around the centre of the town of Roissy de France, which was a small sleepy town near Paris until the Charles de Gaulle Airport was built. Now it’s a large sleepy town, and that makes it far nicer than it would be if it all had moved with the times.
I went back to the hotel and caught the shuttle bus to the airport, then walked to the station. Standing in line to buy my ticket (as the ticket machines won’t take my credit card here and I still haven’t been able to reverse charges call to Australia for Westpac) I was able to help two American students from Missouri who are studying in Milan and taking weekends to explore Europe. They ended up getting the Paris Visité card, an all-day card which is for nearly all public transport in Paris. I got mine and then caught the electric subway train into Notre Dame. A quick look at the crowds lined up convinced me that firstly, I had been correct in planning my trip for early in the year and secondly, I was visiting Paris too late to miss the crowds.
After much and deep thought, I decided to take one of the hop-on, hop-off buses and chose one with what seemed like the best coverage, the Paris L’OpenTour. As it happens, one of their stops was right near where I was, so it was only a matter of minutes before I was on the green (Paris Grand Tour) route, which was quite comprehensive in what it covered. At home I will scan in the supplied map so you will be able to follow it as a picture in flickr.com, as an addendum to the photos.
I was off that and on the yellow (Monmartre – Grands Boulevards Tour) route, for a different look at the city. On this one, I was reminded of one reason not to travel on the upper deck on the pavement side – a tree branch got me on the forehead and knocked my cap off. I had to climb to the lower deck to retrieve it and when I went to put it back on, I found it had lacerated me just above the eyebrow (more scars!). The bleeding stopped after a few minutes (hey, I’m still healthy) and things went on.
I changed back to the green route to then catch the blue (Bastille – Bercy Tour) route which went around the St Martin’s Canal and the Bastille. Fortunately the French are not as crass as some others and have NOT put an amusement park on the site with fake beheadings and other forms of execution (and torture, that always sells), simply a monument and a traffic circle where current-day French can abuse each other with the same enthusiasm as in the old days, but less dire consequences.
I changed to the orange (Montpasse – Saint-Germain Tour) route for the last of the day (and of France) to have memories of Peter Sarstead sing “Where do you go to” in my ears (but not actually, as the iPod was back at the hotel) as I went along roads familiar in name but not in sight.
After that I got off and went to have my last real meal in France and went to a Quick restaurant, a copy of McDonald’s, and was horrified to hear the girl on the register ask if I wanted French Fries (I thought she would at least have called them Pomme Frites). I told her we called them chips in Australia. They weren’t ready and she had to bring them over later and said, “Here are your chips”, for which I presented her with a koala stickpin.
During the tours I met up with some fellow Australians and we chatted about touring, swapping notes on where to go and what to see, especially with limited time. One couple was ex-Melbourne, now in Brisbane, but with business links to Laverton.
After that it was onto the underground, locate the B line to Charles de Gaulle (B3) and as luck would have it, I got an express. Back at the airport I caught the shuttle back to the hotel (only had to wait five minutes), but then had to wait longer as the electronic key malfunctioned (too many magnetic strips in my pocket) and I had to get it replaced.
Then it was process the photos, upload yesterday’s blog and then yesterday’s photos, process today’s photos, upload them and then upload today’s blog.
Then to sleep, hoping that all my yesterday laundry will be dry enough to pack and that I can fit everything into my bags and keep within the weight limit.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
30 May
Today started with a leisurely breakfast, then a quick pack of my room and a thorough check. I left, saying goodbye to mine host and promising to keep in touch.
I drove back to Chipilly, now armed with the contour map, and found the high point of the ridge. I videoed the view, but from observation believe that the cemetery would have been the optimal location for the machine gun post my grandfather captured.
I then set course for the hotel I had booked. Along the way I realised that today was Friday and it was getting close to noon, so I had to post the parcels off very soon. I stopped by the side of the road and packed two parcels up, one to be posted to Kerry, at home, and one to Fran. Although equal size, they were not equal weight.
I chose the closest post office along the way to call into and arrived at 11:50. By the time they were weighed (one too heavy, so I moved a book into the other, but had to take the maps out) and then relabelled (according to the assistant there, the wrong labels were given to me – but they were the same as what got the last parcel to Australia), it was after noon and the post office was closed. At least they were now off and I had one less thing to worry about.
I arrived at the hotel at about 1:30 to find it was the wrong ne – they have THREE of the same name within a kilometre of each other. I found the correct one (it wasn’t in a flight path) and checked in, unloaded my stuff and decided to wash the small amount of dirty laundry and have a rest after. I did that, checked email and then went to sleep, waking up irregularly until it was the next morning.
I drove back to Chipilly, now armed with the contour map, and found the high point of the ridge. I videoed the view, but from observation believe that the cemetery would have been the optimal location for the machine gun post my grandfather captured.
I then set course for the hotel I had booked. Along the way I realised that today was Friday and it was getting close to noon, so I had to post the parcels off very soon. I stopped by the side of the road and packed two parcels up, one to be posted to Kerry, at home, and one to Fran. Although equal size, they were not equal weight.
I chose the closest post office along the way to call into and arrived at 11:50. By the time they were weighed (one too heavy, so I moved a book into the other, but had to take the maps out) and then relabelled (according to the assistant there, the wrong labels were given to me – but they were the same as what got the last parcel to Australia), it was after noon and the post office was closed. At least they were now off and I had one less thing to worry about.
I arrived at the hotel at about 1:30 to find it was the wrong ne – they have THREE of the same name within a kilometre of each other. I found the correct one (it wasn’t in a flight path) and checked in, unloaded my stuff and decided to wash the small amount of dirty laundry and have a rest after. I did that, checked email and then went to sleep, waking up irregularly until it was the next morning.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
29 May
Ah, the perils of travel.
I spent the night well and then didn’t want to get up in the morning, but decided I had better, as I was after some information and a visit for today. After a shower and dressing, I was down for breakfast just after 8. Breakfast was up to standard, but of course slightly different (as it is in each place). Today was rolls, orange juice, tea, egg and bacon and toast. I took so long to have it that the other couple from Australia, who were sleeping in until 9, had arrived before I had finished. We chatted about travel, comparisons of B&Bs and then the merits of campervans versus caravans and towing vehicles. Then I gathered my things up and left them together in the room, taking the laptop with me and heading off to fulfil various functions.
I went to Albert to find out more about the topography of Chipilly. Although I had been advised that the Tourist Bureau could help, they couldn’t, except to suggest I purchase an IGN map of the area. Even mentioning topography and contour lines made no difference. I headed over to the newsagency opposite and found … the IGN ALBERT Carte Topographique, which was exactly what I was after (at a scale of one centimetre to two hundred and fifty metres, it is quite detailed and shows the ridge area at Chipilly very clearly.
Alas, the second task was not so easy. I have to ring Westpac as they have put a stop on my credit card (apparently they are worried about a transaction, but of course they can’t email me with which one AND I can’t email them back, because of all the credit card email scams). The telephone booth I tried had no information on contacting an operator, and every other number I tried was of no help (“Sorry sir, I don’t have that information”). I asked at the Trench Museum, but even the resident Englishman at the other end could not help. He suggested the Post Office. My enquiry now degenerated into a farce. There, after four people had come from the back office to assist, all I got was a number to ring, which answered in French to say it was out of service.
I decided to cut my losses and visit the Victoria School to see if today was a school day. Of course, I arrived at lunchtime. Only one teacher was there, but around forty children were having a school lunch, which looked pretty good. The children were at school because their parents were working – no-one at home. I chatted to the teacher and found out there are about one hundred and thirty students at the school, they are aged about eight to eleven-twelve and come from the “petit enfant” école, then go on to the college (like our secondary school). As they finished lunch, a number volunteered to come out to be photographed under the “Do not forget Australia” and then returned to wait. The weather was wet, and it had been raining all morning. A few were speaking to me, and I didn’t know how to take it when a young girl told me she thought I was eighty (perhaps it is the continual travelling which has aged me prematurely). When all had finished, and they had put all the crockery and cutlery together, they were allowed to leave in order after sitting silently and putting their chairs under the tables properly. Then it was on with their wet-weather gear and into the yard, where the typical primary school noise betrayed the fact that it was a working school.
I went into a classroom with the teacher, who spoke better English than he thought, and I commented on the children’s work. Then I got the laptop and showed him the pictures of Australia which I had selected as typical. He then produced a memory stick of photos from the ceremony at the Memorial and at the school from ANZAC Day. He offered to let me copy them, which I did, and I copied the Australian pictures onto the memory stick. By then the other teachers had arrived, including the one I had spoken with in April. I spoke with her, and another, then one of the students who had been there came through and showed me his kangaroo pin on his pencil case.
I gave the teachers my email address and photo site, and promised to take photos of special things they would like from Australia and then to send it to them (most likely on a CD, as none of the school computers had DVD readers). I also got another number to try for ringing.
I left the school feeling I had achieved something (and may do more in the future) and immediately found a telephone booth on the main road. Inside was the number they had given me, saying it would get me assistance, but again all I got was a message that it was not in service.
By this stage I decided to cut my losses and catch up with other things, so I set course for Pozieres. I emptied the rubbish bag on the way (and got saturated with spray from a truck) and arrived back to find it still raining. I went in to find the lady of the house at home, so I sat down and had a cup of coffee with her, then did some research for accommodation for Friday and Saturday. My two options are a B&B at Parmain (about seventy kilometres from Paris, and about thirty-five kilometres from Charles De Gaulle Airport) or a hotel near the airport (Premiere Classe Roissy). The B&B will be quieter and more personal, include breakfast and provide for the car, while the hotel is closer and although the tariff is cheaper, by the time I park the car it will be more (but it does have WiFi free). I emailed the B&B, so I will ring tonight and if there is no room there, I will book the hotel over the Internet tonight. I also rang to return the car at about 1 on Sunday afternoon. My other tasks today include trying to pack the boxes to send to Fran and to me with everything I can’t carry in them (and they had better be less than seven kilogram each) and packing for travel by air.
I finished everything (except the packing) and found France Telecom’s page for accessing International Reverse Charges. I went into Albert to try and, guess what, I still couldn’t get through. I had some tea in Albert, then returned to Pozieres and went up to my room, finished everything off, found the B&B wasn’t available for the two nights so booked the hotel on the Internet. Then I got myself ready for bed, posted photos (only two – the schoolkids at Villers-Brettonneax) and then this blog, then went to sleep.
I spent the night well and then didn’t want to get up in the morning, but decided I had better, as I was after some information and a visit for today. After a shower and dressing, I was down for breakfast just after 8. Breakfast was up to standard, but of course slightly different (as it is in each place). Today was rolls, orange juice, tea, egg and bacon and toast. I took so long to have it that the other couple from Australia, who were sleeping in until 9, had arrived before I had finished. We chatted about travel, comparisons of B&Bs and then the merits of campervans versus caravans and towing vehicles. Then I gathered my things up and left them together in the room, taking the laptop with me and heading off to fulfil various functions.
I went to Albert to find out more about the topography of Chipilly. Although I had been advised that the Tourist Bureau could help, they couldn’t, except to suggest I purchase an IGN map of the area. Even mentioning topography and contour lines made no difference. I headed over to the newsagency opposite and found … the IGN ALBERT Carte Topographique, which was exactly what I was after (at a scale of one centimetre to two hundred and fifty metres, it is quite detailed and shows the ridge area at Chipilly very clearly.
Alas, the second task was not so easy. I have to ring Westpac as they have put a stop on my credit card (apparently they are worried about a transaction, but of course they can’t email me with which one AND I can’t email them back, because of all the credit card email scams). The telephone booth I tried had no information on contacting an operator, and every other number I tried was of no help (“Sorry sir, I don’t have that information”). I asked at the Trench Museum, but even the resident Englishman at the other end could not help. He suggested the Post Office. My enquiry now degenerated into a farce. There, after four people had come from the back office to assist, all I got was a number to ring, which answered in French to say it was out of service.
I decided to cut my losses and visit the Victoria School to see if today was a school day. Of course, I arrived at lunchtime. Only one teacher was there, but around forty children were having a school lunch, which looked pretty good. The children were at school because their parents were working – no-one at home. I chatted to the teacher and found out there are about one hundred and thirty students at the school, they are aged about eight to eleven-twelve and come from the “petit enfant” école, then go on to the college (like our secondary school). As they finished lunch, a number volunteered to come out to be photographed under the “Do not forget Australia” and then returned to wait. The weather was wet, and it had been raining all morning. A few were speaking to me, and I didn’t know how to take it when a young girl told me she thought I was eighty (perhaps it is the continual travelling which has aged me prematurely). When all had finished, and they had put all the crockery and cutlery together, they were allowed to leave in order after sitting silently and putting their chairs under the tables properly. Then it was on with their wet-weather gear and into the yard, where the typical primary school noise betrayed the fact that it was a working school.
I went into a classroom with the teacher, who spoke better English than he thought, and I commented on the children’s work. Then I got the laptop and showed him the pictures of Australia which I had selected as typical. He then produced a memory stick of photos from the ceremony at the Memorial and at the school from ANZAC Day. He offered to let me copy them, which I did, and I copied the Australian pictures onto the memory stick. By then the other teachers had arrived, including the one I had spoken with in April. I spoke with her, and another, then one of the students who had been there came through and showed me his kangaroo pin on his pencil case.
I gave the teachers my email address and photo site, and promised to take photos of special things they would like from Australia and then to send it to them (most likely on a CD, as none of the school computers had DVD readers). I also got another number to try for ringing.
I left the school feeling I had achieved something (and may do more in the future) and immediately found a telephone booth on the main road. Inside was the number they had given me, saying it would get me assistance, but again all I got was a message that it was not in service.
By this stage I decided to cut my losses and catch up with other things, so I set course for Pozieres. I emptied the rubbish bag on the way (and got saturated with spray from a truck) and arrived back to find it still raining. I went in to find the lady of the house at home, so I sat down and had a cup of coffee with her, then did some research for accommodation for Friday and Saturday. My two options are a B&B at Parmain (about seventy kilometres from Paris, and about thirty-five kilometres from Charles De Gaulle Airport) or a hotel near the airport (Premiere Classe Roissy). The B&B will be quieter and more personal, include breakfast and provide for the car, while the hotel is closer and although the tariff is cheaper, by the time I park the car it will be more (but it does have WiFi free). I emailed the B&B, so I will ring tonight and if there is no room there, I will book the hotel over the Internet tonight. I also rang to return the car at about 1 on Sunday afternoon. My other tasks today include trying to pack the boxes to send to Fran and to me with everything I can’t carry in them (and they had better be less than seven kilogram each) and packing for travel by air.
I finished everything (except the packing) and found France Telecom’s page for accessing International Reverse Charges. I went into Albert to try and, guess what, I still couldn’t get through. I had some tea in Albert, then returned to Pozieres and went up to my room, finished everything off, found the B&B wasn’t available for the two nights so booked the hotel on the Internet. Then I got myself ready for bed, posted photos (only two – the schoolkids at Villers-Brettonneax) and then this blog, then went to sleep.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
28 May
Another interesting day dawned.
After rising, preparing and facing a huge repast for breakfast and losing in eating it all, I gave mine hosts a DVD of some of my photos – even as small images, not all fit onto a DVD now. They got US, Australia and Europe (up to today) and started looking at them straight away (liked Uluru). Then my fellow residents came down for breakfast – they were four ladies from Ghent, here on a cycling tour. We talked about Europe and Australia, and touring by car and cycle, then they left to go out on a seventy kilometre ride today (they had done one hundred kilometres yesterday). I went up and packed, having already settled the account before finishing breakfast.
I left, having set course for Pozieres. Just as I left Belgium (which sounds great, but was just under an hour), the low fuel light went on. I waited until I was in France to fill up (for the last time) as all fuel, especially diesel, is far cheaper in France. The border crossing was another non-event, as while all the signage remains, you just drive straight through.
I filled up and have estimated, from all the fills so far, that the tank will take what the computer says, plus twenty percent, plus or minus twenty-five percent. It sounds complicated, but if the computer says I need fifty litres, then I really need between fifty-seven and a half and sixty-two and a half litres. On that I will estimate a final fill figure when I return the car (with a low tank, for transport, as it will go out on a car transport). So far, overall, it is returning just under sixty mpg (just over five litres per hundred kilometres).
After I filled up I went on, but reprogrammed to go the Victoria School in Villers-Brettoneaux. I arrived to find … no-one there! Have I chosen the wrong times to visit or what? I will try again tomorrow. I went up to the market square in the town to hear Australian accents – four, two couples, with one couple touring France for a month but the others returning home soon. They also have a leased car and apparently know the Hatchers (who run Eurolease in Australia) personally. I passed on a little about finding accommodation, then they left to find the Australian War Memorial, so I directed them to it (and followed them there, as it was on my way to Albert (“Bert”)). Then I left them and went to Albert, to get something to drink and check McDonald’s still had WiFi Gratitué and Illimité. They did, I got something to drink and then went to Thiepval. Although I had been there four times, I hadn’t seen the memorial. I read all the introductory material (again with school excursions rampant – had to loan a child a pen as he didn’t have one, but neither did his teacher). I walked to the memorial with some English people and chatted to them, and found you couldn’t actually get to the memorial as it was closed for cleaning and renovation before the summer crowds and memorial ceremonies.
I went back to Pozieres and found the owner of the B&B home, so dropped in, got a key and left some luggage. I am upstairs for tonight, then back where I was before tomorrow night. There is an Australian couple staying there, so I may meet them tomorrow morning (or tonight).
I went to the ppost office in Villers-Brettoneaux to get two mailing boxes for posting the last stuff home and got them, but struck the only post office in France which doesn’t take cards, so had to use cash.
Then I called in at Chipilliy. This is were my grandfather won his medal for storming a German machine gun post (even though the citation says elsewhere. I videoed the view from where I thought it took place and was just writing this up when a local gentleman spoke to me, realised the gist of what I was here for (to find the ridge and exact position of the machine gun post, if possible) and rushed off to get an English speaker. He couldn’t find one, but gave me a number to call, then spoke to each visitor to the cemetery to ask if they could help.
I wrote this all up, and am tossing up whether to return to Pozieres via Albert and post this (but not the photos, as I will do those later) or go straight back to Pozieres. I think the former will win as I’ll have tea on the way home, but most likely have to add to this tomorrow.
I called an and had some tea, then uploaded my blog there but no photos. I was able to check email, but left it at that.
I arrived in Pozieres and went to unpack the rest of my gear. I took some upstairs but stayed at the back to process the photos. I did that and then Christian, mine host here, came out. I showed him where I had been between staying here the first time and now, and he showed me where he had been on holiday in Italy. I showed him the Australian photos I had, while we had a drink together. Then he took his son out for something and I chatted to the Australian couple (from Sydney) about travelling, lease cars, places to stay, computer connections and cameras and photos. Apparently now there is WiFi here, and the breakfast room has been changed around quite a bit.
They retired for the evening and I went back, after mentioning to the son to help me get on the WiFi network, to my room, typed up the rest of my blog and got myself ready for the evening. I was logged on soon after, uploaded photos and full blog and then went to sleep.
After rising, preparing and facing a huge repast for breakfast and losing in eating it all, I gave mine hosts a DVD of some of my photos – even as small images, not all fit onto a DVD now. They got US, Australia and Europe (up to today) and started looking at them straight away (liked Uluru). Then my fellow residents came down for breakfast – they were four ladies from Ghent, here on a cycling tour. We talked about Europe and Australia, and touring by car and cycle, then they left to go out on a seventy kilometre ride today (they had done one hundred kilometres yesterday). I went up and packed, having already settled the account before finishing breakfast.
I left, having set course for Pozieres. Just as I left Belgium (which sounds great, but was just under an hour), the low fuel light went on. I waited until I was in France to fill up (for the last time) as all fuel, especially diesel, is far cheaper in France. The border crossing was another non-event, as while all the signage remains, you just drive straight through.
I filled up and have estimated, from all the fills so far, that the tank will take what the computer says, plus twenty percent, plus or minus twenty-five percent. It sounds complicated, but if the computer says I need fifty litres, then I really need between fifty-seven and a half and sixty-two and a half litres. On that I will estimate a final fill figure when I return the car (with a low tank, for transport, as it will go out on a car transport). So far, overall, it is returning just under sixty mpg (just over five litres per hundred kilometres).
After I filled up I went on, but reprogrammed to go the Victoria School in Villers-Brettoneaux. I arrived to find … no-one there! Have I chosen the wrong times to visit or what? I will try again tomorrow. I went up to the market square in the town to hear Australian accents – four, two couples, with one couple touring France for a month but the others returning home soon. They also have a leased car and apparently know the Hatchers (who run Eurolease in Australia) personally. I passed on a little about finding accommodation, then they left to find the Australian War Memorial, so I directed them to it (and followed them there, as it was on my way to Albert (“Bert”)). Then I left them and went to Albert, to get something to drink and check McDonald’s still had WiFi Gratitué and Illimité. They did, I got something to drink and then went to Thiepval. Although I had been there four times, I hadn’t seen the memorial. I read all the introductory material (again with school excursions rampant – had to loan a child a pen as he didn’t have one, but neither did his teacher). I walked to the memorial with some English people and chatted to them, and found you couldn’t actually get to the memorial as it was closed for cleaning and renovation before the summer crowds and memorial ceremonies.
I went back to Pozieres and found the owner of the B&B home, so dropped in, got a key and left some luggage. I am upstairs for tonight, then back where I was before tomorrow night. There is an Australian couple staying there, so I may meet them tomorrow morning (or tonight).
I went to the ppost office in Villers-Brettoneaux to get two mailing boxes for posting the last stuff home and got them, but struck the only post office in France which doesn’t take cards, so had to use cash.
Then I called in at Chipilliy. This is were my grandfather won his medal for storming a German machine gun post (even though the citation says elsewhere. I videoed the view from where I thought it took place and was just writing this up when a local gentleman spoke to me, realised the gist of what I was here for (to find the ridge and exact position of the machine gun post, if possible) and rushed off to get an English speaker. He couldn’t find one, but gave me a number to call, then spoke to each visitor to the cemetery to ask if they could help.
I wrote this all up, and am tossing up whether to return to Pozieres via Albert and post this (but not the photos, as I will do those later) or go straight back to Pozieres. I think the former will win as I’ll have tea on the way home, but most likely have to add to this tomorrow.
I called an and had some tea, then uploaded my blog there but no photos. I was able to check email, but left it at that.
I arrived in Pozieres and went to unpack the rest of my gear. I took some upstairs but stayed at the back to process the photos. I did that and then Christian, mine host here, came out. I showed him where I had been between staying here the first time and now, and he showed me where he had been on holiday in Italy. I showed him the Australian photos I had, while we had a drink together. Then he took his son out for something and I chatted to the Australian couple (from Sydney) about travelling, lease cars, places to stay, computer connections and cameras and photos. Apparently now there is WiFi here, and the breakfast room has been changed around quite a bit.
They retired for the evening and I went back, after mentioning to the son to help me get on the WiFi network, to my room, typed up the rest of my blog and got myself ready for the evening. I was logged on soon after, uploaded photos and full blog and then went to sleep.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
27 May
Well, today started out sort of as I expected.
When the computer was busily doing its processing and uploading last night, I heard a loud TV in French in the room next to mine. I was just about to sigh and think I would not be able to get a good night’s sleep when it went off just before I actually got to bed.
In the morning I went down for breakfast and found five places set – there are four ladies staying for a time, but then didn’t get down to breakfast before I left.
I prepared to go out, taking the laptop with me this time so I could write up my blog while out and perhaps add the photos in. I set out for Ostende, thinking it would take me some time and in less than half an hour I was in the middle of Ostende. I parked, had a look around the beachfront, then dove along the beachfront. First impressions are that there are huge numbers of people who come here (to the beach) for holidays. Everything was set up for many people, and it made me wonder whether people leave their crowded dwellings and move en masse to another crowded place for their holidays. The beach had different coloured sand, as if it had been shipped in for the summer. Within a few minutes, one ferry had left and another was coming in. There must be a huge traffic across the North Sea!
When I drove along the beach front, it went for what seemed like kilometre after kilometre, with a promenade, a dual tram track and the road. Then the land side became dunes and there must be a museum in there as there are gun emplacements from WWII still visible there – and some restored to beautiful condition. When I went for a walk out there along the promenade, the beach sand was grey and signs were prohibiting swimming (either that, or you’re not allowed to wave while standing in the ocean). The weather was bracing (read cool and moist), so I thought I would go to Ypres and look around there in more detail. I was there in less than an hour and parked, got some literature from the Tourist Bureau and then looked at the In Flanders Fields museum. Before going there I visited the gents’ – not unusual and hardly worthy of note except that I closed he door on the way in, but being of glass it didn’t make much difference. While using the facilities, I thought that at least the angle gave some privacy – until realised that the wall between the ladies and gents was also glass (clear glass, I might add). Ah well, the Belgians are out-Frenching the French.
The museum was crowded with – you guessed it – school excursions. Behaviours – the same as our kids (girls taking photos of girlfriends in front of displays and not reading anything or answering the material they had – boys trying to outdo each other at anything). The material was really interesting, so much so I didn’t take (m)any pictures. One aside was that the Australian troops had to be stationed outside the area because of their rowdiness and poor example to other troops. However, that didn’t stop them from being very successful in action.
I had an ice cream (memo to self: be neat and tidy in having chocolate ice cream while wearing white (now chocolate and white) shirt) and then set off on the “In Flanders Fields Route”. I stopped at a number of places, but only a few stand out especially. The first was the dugout in which the lines about the Flanders Fields poppies were penned. The second was a German War Cemetery – compared to the Commonwealth, a sad and understated place. The third was Tyne Cot Commonwealth Cemetery, with nearly 12 000 graves, a tribute to the futility of war.
Then I went to the Passendale Museum. It was very interesting and an experience which anyone visiting this area should not miss.
I returned to Ypres and had a pizza for tea.
I went to the car to write up today and found I was on a WiFI net, so checked my email. I shouldn’t have, as the reply from TomTom made my blood go superheated. “Service” is no help and even though they have been notified of the problem, if I’m back in Australia after the warranty time is up, I will most likely be on my own. I will be having a long discussion with the Trade Practices Commission when I am home!
I started writing, but stopped about 7:15 to go down to the Menin Gate and wait. I was standing with a woman from Australia and a family from Norfolk in England. We chatted and the ceremony started – a little different from yesterday as there were standard bearers as well as a few wreaths laid. I winced as flags hit and laid on the ground, but there were about five hundred people present, many schoolchildren and even soldiers for the German army.
I left not long after and saw a couple looking closely at my car and thought they were the ones from yesterday who were going to turn up today. It turned out they were a couple from Camberwell, but he had grown up in Western Australia.
After that I drove back to my lodgings, processed the photos (and had to do some backing up as my disk was full again), finished my blog and eventually uploaded everything before going to sleep.
When the computer was busily doing its processing and uploading last night, I heard a loud TV in French in the room next to mine. I was just about to sigh and think I would not be able to get a good night’s sleep when it went off just before I actually got to bed.
In the morning I went down for breakfast and found five places set – there are four ladies staying for a time, but then didn’t get down to breakfast before I left.
I prepared to go out, taking the laptop with me this time so I could write up my blog while out and perhaps add the photos in. I set out for Ostende, thinking it would take me some time and in less than half an hour I was in the middle of Ostende. I parked, had a look around the beachfront, then dove along the beachfront. First impressions are that there are huge numbers of people who come here (to the beach) for holidays. Everything was set up for many people, and it made me wonder whether people leave their crowded dwellings and move en masse to another crowded place for their holidays. The beach had different coloured sand, as if it had been shipped in for the summer. Within a few minutes, one ferry had left and another was coming in. There must be a huge traffic across the North Sea!
When I drove along the beach front, it went for what seemed like kilometre after kilometre, with a promenade, a dual tram track and the road. Then the land side became dunes and there must be a museum in there as there are gun emplacements from WWII still visible there – and some restored to beautiful condition. When I went for a walk out there along the promenade, the beach sand was grey and signs were prohibiting swimming (either that, or you’re not allowed to wave while standing in the ocean). The weather was bracing (read cool and moist), so I thought I would go to Ypres and look around there in more detail. I was there in less than an hour and parked, got some literature from the Tourist Bureau and then looked at the In Flanders Fields museum. Before going there I visited the gents’ – not unusual and hardly worthy of note except that I closed he door on the way in, but being of glass it didn’t make much difference. While using the facilities, I thought that at least the angle gave some privacy – until realised that the wall between the ladies and gents was also glass (clear glass, I might add). Ah well, the Belgians are out-Frenching the French.
The museum was crowded with – you guessed it – school excursions. Behaviours – the same as our kids (girls taking photos of girlfriends in front of displays and not reading anything or answering the material they had – boys trying to outdo each other at anything). The material was really interesting, so much so I didn’t take (m)any pictures. One aside was that the Australian troops had to be stationed outside the area because of their rowdiness and poor example to other troops. However, that didn’t stop them from being very successful in action.
I had an ice cream (memo to self: be neat and tidy in having chocolate ice cream while wearing white (now chocolate and white) shirt) and then set off on the “In Flanders Fields Route”. I stopped at a number of places, but only a few stand out especially. The first was the dugout in which the lines about the Flanders Fields poppies were penned. The second was a German War Cemetery – compared to the Commonwealth, a sad and understated place. The third was Tyne Cot Commonwealth Cemetery, with nearly 12 000 graves, a tribute to the futility of war.
Then I went to the Passendale Museum. It was very interesting and an experience which anyone visiting this area should not miss.
I returned to Ypres and had a pizza for tea.
I went to the car to write up today and found I was on a WiFI net, so checked my email. I shouldn’t have, as the reply from TomTom made my blood go superheated. “Service” is no help and even though they have been notified of the problem, if I’m back in Australia after the warranty time is up, I will most likely be on my own. I will be having a long discussion with the Trade Practices Commission when I am home!
I started writing, but stopped about 7:15 to go down to the Menin Gate and wait. I was standing with a woman from Australia and a family from Norfolk in England. We chatted and the ceremony started – a little different from yesterday as there were standard bearers as well as a few wreaths laid. I winced as flags hit and laid on the ground, but there were about five hundred people present, many schoolchildren and even soldiers for the German army.
I left not long after and saw a couple looking closely at my car and thought they were the ones from yesterday who were going to turn up today. It turned out they were a couple from Camberwell, but he had grown up in Western Australia.
After that I drove back to my lodgings, processed the photos (and had to do some backing up as my disk was full again), finished my blog and eventually uploaded everything before going to sleep.
Monday, May 26, 2008
26 May
Today started out too well, with another large breakfast – juice, tea, milk, bread, croissant, roll, ham and cheese (and too many spreads to poke a spoon at). After I worked my way through as much as I could, I set off to visit Gent (or Ghent, depending upon where the speller comes from). The weather had been raining in the morning but had cleared up by the time I arrived at Ghent. Although there were parking spots clear, I decided to play it safe and use a parking station, in case I stopped in an area of restricted parking which wasn’t posted. The parking station had levels with colours, numbers and symbols! -2 was a orange carrot, -3 was a red rabbit and -4, where I was, was a blue fish.
I walked into the centre of the city and had a look around at the buildings, some churches (more of that later) and finally thought I needed a thrill so a look over a castle followed. I found I qualified for a seniors’ discount, so took it and then found … school excursions all over the castle – English, French, Dutch, German – I can’t get away from kids! However the castle was a good experience.
I decided rather than jade myself by staying too long, I would have a look at Brussels in the afternoon. On the way back to the car park, I came across another articulate beggar (why do they pick me? why can’t I get one who only speaks their native language?) who told me his father was a master chef on the ocean liners years ago and his son was on the streets.
It didn’t take too long to get there (less than an hour) and the trick was getting into a parking station, as the entrances to most were at odd angles. I eventually made it and had a look around, although I think I shall see if I can become a consultant to some and suggest easier ways for tourists to make their way around – there were so many holding different maps up in many different ways but all of them looking confused.
I found the main square, looked around there, had some lunch, went to photograph a statue and had to wait – a group of schoolchildren climbing all over it to be photographed there. Squirming, making rabbit ears, making others laugh at the wrong time – kids are the same everywhere. I had a look over a church (there are photos of it) and have some definite thoughts on such things.
There are churches which are closed – no problem, that’s their choice. There are churches which are completely open and you can walk nearly anywhere and take nearly any photos you want. There are others which are partially open and you can walk in some places and not others, and photograph some areas and not others. But there are some churches which are open and you can’t do anything except walk around a restricted area UNLESS you join a guided tour (at considerable cost), whereupon you can walk anywhere and photograph everything. The cynic in me goes back about two thousand years to another person who got upset about trading in the church and created a scene (almost the last scene done by choice). I prefer ones where there is a discreet sign saying that materials are available (and the cost) with a coin slot and a mention that the church does require funds for its upkeep.
After, I walked down a few streets lined with cafés and saw so many touts I couldn’t believe it. They must have thought I wasn’t a likely bet, but for others it was, “children eat free” or “our menus in all languages” even though everyone else’s were too.
I saw a great sign “Quality Travel Agency” – would one really advertise if one’s travel agency was no good (unless your name was Basil Fawlty)? Also, there were some police cars on one road and I am now starting to worry – not only the policemen are looking younger, but the senior officers are looking no older than my ex-year twelves!
The afternoon had nearly gone but light was still good, so I decided, on a whim, to go home through Ypres (liper). I got there in time to have a little look around, but also to see the Last Post played at the Menin Gate (as some school students take and lay a wreath – which made me so glad and proud that our students wear uniforms and so can look good for ceremonies). Here I spoke to an Australian couple from Essendon and a Dutch couple from Utrech. The ceremony went well, except for a burglar alarm which was loudly operating during the greater part of the Last Post.
After that it was driving back to my (temporary) home in the rain. Two observations: European roads do not drain water well and so trucks throw up huge amounts of spray and light cars slide everywhere as they aquaplane; drivers change speed quickly and are not consistent with their driving patterns in the rain.
Once back, I checked my email and my blood boiled: I had got a reply from TomTom about not being able to do anything with my faulty unit. The reply said that I should have spoken to the Help Line (except that only the stores have the number, and the salesman had to wait half an hour to get through – the Help Line wouldn’t let the salesman explain what trouble shooting had been done – there was no suggestion to put me straight onto the line) and that units must be returned to the store of purchase for returns, otherwise nothing can be done. I suppose this means the warranty on the unit I purchased in Denmark is worthless. I will attempt to resolve the problem when I return to Australia – through Harvey Norman and the Trade Practices Commission, but I, at the moment at least, have to retract my good words about TomTom and say that it appears to be useless to expect service from them when their units play up or won’t operate. Certainly in the future, if I did this sort of trip again, I would have to compromise and find a unit which does have a useful warranty, worldwide in truth instead of just advertising.
Now that my mind has settled (I sent them a reply refuting each point in turn, so will see what happens), I will finish this, process the photos and then, after posting them all, go to sleep.
I walked into the centre of the city and had a look around at the buildings, some churches (more of that later) and finally thought I needed a thrill so a look over a castle followed. I found I qualified for a seniors’ discount, so took it and then found … school excursions all over the castle – English, French, Dutch, German – I can’t get away from kids! However the castle was a good experience.
I decided rather than jade myself by staying too long, I would have a look at Brussels in the afternoon. On the way back to the car park, I came across another articulate beggar (why do they pick me? why can’t I get one who only speaks their native language?) who told me his father was a master chef on the ocean liners years ago and his son was on the streets.
It didn’t take too long to get there (less than an hour) and the trick was getting into a parking station, as the entrances to most were at odd angles. I eventually made it and had a look around, although I think I shall see if I can become a consultant to some and suggest easier ways for tourists to make their way around – there were so many holding different maps up in many different ways but all of them looking confused.
I found the main square, looked around there, had some lunch, went to photograph a statue and had to wait – a group of schoolchildren climbing all over it to be photographed there. Squirming, making rabbit ears, making others laugh at the wrong time – kids are the same everywhere. I had a look over a church (there are photos of it) and have some definite thoughts on such things.
There are churches which are closed – no problem, that’s their choice. There are churches which are completely open and you can walk nearly anywhere and take nearly any photos you want. There are others which are partially open and you can walk in some places and not others, and photograph some areas and not others. But there are some churches which are open and you can’t do anything except walk around a restricted area UNLESS you join a guided tour (at considerable cost), whereupon you can walk anywhere and photograph everything. The cynic in me goes back about two thousand years to another person who got upset about trading in the church and created a scene (almost the last scene done by choice). I prefer ones where there is a discreet sign saying that materials are available (and the cost) with a coin slot and a mention that the church does require funds for its upkeep.
After, I walked down a few streets lined with cafés and saw so many touts I couldn’t believe it. They must have thought I wasn’t a likely bet, but for others it was, “children eat free” or “our menus in all languages” even though everyone else’s were too.
I saw a great sign “Quality Travel Agency” – would one really advertise if one’s travel agency was no good (unless your name was Basil Fawlty)? Also, there were some police cars on one road and I am now starting to worry – not only the policemen are looking younger, but the senior officers are looking no older than my ex-year twelves!
The afternoon had nearly gone but light was still good, so I decided, on a whim, to go home through Ypres (liper). I got there in time to have a little look around, but also to see the Last Post played at the Menin Gate (as some school students take and lay a wreath – which made me so glad and proud that our students wear uniforms and so can look good for ceremonies). Here I spoke to an Australian couple from Essendon and a Dutch couple from Utrech. The ceremony went well, except for a burglar alarm which was loudly operating during the greater part of the Last Post.
After that it was driving back to my (temporary) home in the rain. Two observations: European roads do not drain water well and so trucks throw up huge amounts of spray and light cars slide everywhere as they aquaplane; drivers change speed quickly and are not consistent with their driving patterns in the rain.
Once back, I checked my email and my blood boiled: I had got a reply from TomTom about not being able to do anything with my faulty unit. The reply said that I should have spoken to the Help Line (except that only the stores have the number, and the salesman had to wait half an hour to get through – the Help Line wouldn’t let the salesman explain what trouble shooting had been done – there was no suggestion to put me straight onto the line) and that units must be returned to the store of purchase for returns, otherwise nothing can be done. I suppose this means the warranty on the unit I purchased in Denmark is worthless. I will attempt to resolve the problem when I return to Australia – through Harvey Norman and the Trade Practices Commission, but I, at the moment at least, have to retract my good words about TomTom and say that it appears to be useless to expect service from them when their units play up or won’t operate. Certainly in the future, if I did this sort of trip again, I would have to compromise and find a unit which does have a useful warranty, worldwide in truth instead of just advertising.
Now that my mind has settled (I sent them a reply refuting each point in turn, so will see what happens), I will finish this, process the photos and then, after posting them all, go to sleep.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
25 May
Today started out differently, as there was no breakfast included in the €86 tariff for the night at Meerkerk. So it was prepare to leave, pack, make sure I had everything and then return the key and leave. In the car I got the apples and bananas out for breakfast to have along the way.
Memo to self: do not eat juicy apples while driving in the car.
I could have chosen the scenic route, which would have got me to my chosen accommodation by 4 in the afternoon – but as it was Sunday, I thought I would play on the safe side and arrive as early as possible – so I went the fast route. That was projected to get me there by about 12:30. After a few wrong turns (memo to self: look at programming SatNavs for dyslexics so I know which way to turn – I know the difference in French but not English) I arrived before 1 and found: yes, there was room in the inn; I could stay three nights; the cost was €40 including breakfast); there was Internet (WiFi) available.
Mine hostess was very affable and asked me what I was going to see and do. I had already seen a laundrette so was going to wash my laundry (and that will just last me), but she implored me to see Brugge this afternoon and do the washing tonight (the laundrette hours are 7-22) and gave me a brochure for it. I decided I would do that and headed off for the outskirts of Brugge, so I could park free but also not worry about time restrictions.
I quickly found a likely spot and parked, then walked a little way around the city, and then, after seeing two windmills, into the city. While I was walking, everything was quiet and there were few people (but interesting things – a mirror house and a sound display), but when I went to the centre, there where a huge number as well as interesting sights. Naturally a lot of the houses were old, some were small (and I mean small – one floor and only four to five metres wide), some were large and there were an amazing range of churches – though few were still being used as churches. There were so many tourists it made me glad I had arranged most of my visiting when there were not many around. Roughly half of them were English, and I think most were on bus trips as they all had to meet at the station (so there were groups huddled around each map).
Brugge is based on canals, but has a lot of streets. Most are one-way, but bicycles can travel both ways – horse carriages can only go with the traffic flow, and there were a lot of them.
After I had seen quite a bit, I was working my way back and was asked by two Dutch girls to take their photo (I got one too, which I will post for my students with the caption “I can still pull good-looking chicks, even in Belgium”). They were in Brugge for a “hens’ weekend”, just down a hundred or so kilometres from the Netherlands.
I got back to the car and returned to my lodgings, wanting to change into my tracksuit so I could launder all the clothes (including today and trousers). I did that and noticed that the room has a fridge – and saw the notice about Internet, but being in Dutch I couldn’t read it (further down in Belgium French is used and I could have understood that). The laundry was gathered and I went down to set it up (reasonable prices and six washers, four dryers). I wrote up my blog while waiting for the washing and had a cold drink while the clothes were drying.
I returned to my lodgings and set up for the next three nights, did the normal computer work, was able to check my email and post everything and went to bed.
Memo to self: do not eat juicy apples while driving in the car.
I could have chosen the scenic route, which would have got me to my chosen accommodation by 4 in the afternoon – but as it was Sunday, I thought I would play on the safe side and arrive as early as possible – so I went the fast route. That was projected to get me there by about 12:30. After a few wrong turns (memo to self: look at programming SatNavs for dyslexics so I know which way to turn – I know the difference in French but not English) I arrived before 1 and found: yes, there was room in the inn; I could stay three nights; the cost was €40 including breakfast); there was Internet (WiFi) available.
Mine hostess was very affable and asked me what I was going to see and do. I had already seen a laundrette so was going to wash my laundry (and that will just last me), but she implored me to see Brugge this afternoon and do the washing tonight (the laundrette hours are 7-22) and gave me a brochure for it. I decided I would do that and headed off for the outskirts of Brugge, so I could park free but also not worry about time restrictions.
I quickly found a likely spot and parked, then walked a little way around the city, and then, after seeing two windmills, into the city. While I was walking, everything was quiet and there were few people (but interesting things – a mirror house and a sound display), but when I went to the centre, there where a huge number as well as interesting sights. Naturally a lot of the houses were old, some were small (and I mean small – one floor and only four to five metres wide), some were large and there were an amazing range of churches – though few were still being used as churches. There were so many tourists it made me glad I had arranged most of my visiting when there were not many around. Roughly half of them were English, and I think most were on bus trips as they all had to meet at the station (so there were groups huddled around each map).
Brugge is based on canals, but has a lot of streets. Most are one-way, but bicycles can travel both ways – horse carriages can only go with the traffic flow, and there were a lot of them.
After I had seen quite a bit, I was working my way back and was asked by two Dutch girls to take their photo (I got one too, which I will post for my students with the caption “I can still pull good-looking chicks, even in Belgium”). They were in Brugge for a “hens’ weekend”, just down a hundred or so kilometres from the Netherlands.
I got back to the car and returned to my lodgings, wanting to change into my tracksuit so I could launder all the clothes (including today and trousers). I did that and noticed that the room has a fridge – and saw the notice about Internet, but being in Dutch I couldn’t read it (further down in Belgium French is used and I could have understood that). The laundry was gathered and I went down to set it up (reasonable prices and six washers, four dryers). I wrote up my blog while waiting for the washing and had a cold drink while the clothes were drying.
I returned to my lodgings and set up for the next three nights, did the normal computer work, was able to check my email and post everything and went to bed.
24 May
Today I was up and ready by just before 8, even though I had inadvertently set the alarm for p.m. instead of a.m. I wondered about breakfast and it arrived on a full tray – four pieces of whole-grain bread, three slices of white bread, four meat slices, three cheese slices, one egg (hardboiled), one tomato, a thermos of hot water, a tea bag, milk in a jug, a jug of orange juice – whew, even just writing about it makes me tired, let alone eating and drinking it.
I finally finished about half of it and had to call it quits. I packed up the car, settled my account and the son popped home to direct me around to the garages where he is currently working. He showed me the machinery they are using here – John Deere and Renault tractors, different farm machinery for general use and beet and potato harvesters. Most interesting.
I finally left there about 9:30 and filled the car with diesel – most likely the last or second-last time, as it should get about 1300 km from the tank and there is only about five hundred lineal kilometres to go.
As I left the town, I waved at some men on traffic duty and one of them recognised me and waved heartily back. The town is restricted in traffic because of all the floats, which are on wagons towed by tractors (yet again!).
I drove down to a town called Schagen, parked in the park-and-ride and went to get my ticket. The ticket machine would not accept ANY of my cards – credit or debit. I had to wait until the café opened to get my ticket – and still couldn’t pay for it by credit card!
The train arrived at 11:20 and pulled out at 11:21 exactly. It was in the centre of Amsterdam by 12:50 – a relatively slow trip. I found out the platform and times for the return trip, then headed off to get a canal boat ticket.
The on which seemed to suit me best was the Canal Boat Cruises, where there are three different lines and regular services. I intended to “do” one route, visit a few places and then walk a little around the city. Ah, the best laid plans …
The ferries had had one break down this morning, so services were slow and full. I waited to board with a family from France who were now living in Holland. The boat left very full, so a lot of my initial photos have heads and other bits of people because there were so many. However the trip around was most interesting and I learned a lot.
We didn’t get back until after 3:30, so by the time I got a drink it was time to get another. This time, the one I wanted left before I could board, so I had to take a different one, which did some of the same areas as I had before – but it was still interesting. I met a couple from the US who were over for five days holiday while the children were with the grandparents.
When I returned, I went to the station (as it was after 5:30) and got to the train a minute before it left. The trip back was faster than the trip in.
I went to the car and set course for a town in the south of Holland. Once I chose the fastest path, it took me almost beside the railway line back into Amsterdam. I started looking for places to stay and, of course no Tourist Bureaux would be open so it looked like a hotel would have to do. I tried for one in Utrech, but with roadworks, although I could see a hotel, I couldn’t get to it.
I continued along the freeway and chose to stay at an AC Hotel. This is a chain along the main highways. It was more expensive than I would have liked (and I had to pay extra for Internet) but by 8:30 anywhere to lay my head seemed good. By the time I finished all the work, it was 12:10 and so I headed off to bed, rather tired after my machinery tour, car, train, canal boat, train and finally car trip.
I finally finished about half of it and had to call it quits. I packed up the car, settled my account and the son popped home to direct me around to the garages where he is currently working. He showed me the machinery they are using here – John Deere and Renault tractors, different farm machinery for general use and beet and potato harvesters. Most interesting.
I finally left there about 9:30 and filled the car with diesel – most likely the last or second-last time, as it should get about 1300 km from the tank and there is only about five hundred lineal kilometres to go.
As I left the town, I waved at some men on traffic duty and one of them recognised me and waved heartily back. The town is restricted in traffic because of all the floats, which are on wagons towed by tractors (yet again!).
I drove down to a town called Schagen, parked in the park-and-ride and went to get my ticket. The ticket machine would not accept ANY of my cards – credit or debit. I had to wait until the café opened to get my ticket – and still couldn’t pay for it by credit card!
The train arrived at 11:20 and pulled out at 11:21 exactly. It was in the centre of Amsterdam by 12:50 – a relatively slow trip. I found out the platform and times for the return trip, then headed off to get a canal boat ticket.
The on which seemed to suit me best was the Canal Boat Cruises, where there are three different lines and regular services. I intended to “do” one route, visit a few places and then walk a little around the city. Ah, the best laid plans …
The ferries had had one break down this morning, so services were slow and full. I waited to board with a family from France who were now living in Holland. The boat left very full, so a lot of my initial photos have heads and other bits of people because there were so many. However the trip around was most interesting and I learned a lot.
We didn’t get back until after 3:30, so by the time I got a drink it was time to get another. This time, the one I wanted left before I could board, so I had to take a different one, which did some of the same areas as I had before – but it was still interesting. I met a couple from the US who were over for five days holiday while the children were with the grandparents.
When I returned, I went to the station (as it was after 5:30) and got to the train a minute before it left. The trip back was faster than the trip in.
I went to the car and set course for a town in the south of Holland. Once I chose the fastest path, it took me almost beside the railway line back into Amsterdam. I started looking for places to stay and, of course no Tourist Bureaux would be open so it looked like a hotel would have to do. I tried for one in Utrech, but with roadworks, although I could see a hotel, I couldn’t get to it.
I continued along the freeway and chose to stay at an AC Hotel. This is a chain along the main highways. It was more expensive than I would have liked (and I had to pay extra for Internet) but by 8:30 anywhere to lay my head seemed good. By the time I finished all the work, it was 12:10 and so I headed off to bed, rather tired after my machinery tour, car, train, canal boat, train and finally car trip.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
23 May
Have you ever had one of those days when nearly everything turned out right?
First of all the shower was one of the best while I have been away, and though I wondered why there was no bathmat down, I soon realised as water went everywhere, why it was not.
Secondly, breakfast was out as a right royal spread, and while there was no cereal or rolls, there was just about everything else. I hadn’t realised the night before that there was a fridge there, otherwise I would have put a coke bottle in to chill.
I set out to see the windmills in the province of Utrecht, the historical heart of Holland. I just wish they had put the actual address of the windmills, not the postal address – so I found myself looking through at the windmill, but unable to reach it. I persevered and got to see a few, all of different types. None of them were open, except by arrangement (and I didn’t have time to arrange). I had wanted to head right up to the north coast and then come back via the west coast. I made time by going up to Groningen on the main road, but then looked for minor roads heading north. I came across a beautiful windmill in a town called Ten Boer. I drove around to find a way into it (and did) and chanced upon the man who had restored it sitting there with a friend. As soon as he heard I was from Australia, he opened it up, showed me all around (the last few photos show a plan of he mill and the document he used as a template for the woodwork) and wouldn’t take anything, so I gave him a kangaroo and koala pin, which he seemed to really like.
I headed off north, but found it was going to take me quite a few hours to get around the north coast, even before heading south onto the west coast. I changed plans and headed straight for the northwest corner of Holland, but realised I would arrive well and truly after all the information centres shut. I found one along the way and set course to that, arriving about 3:30. The lady there was very helpful, not only ringing up and arranging a place (in Dutch, to make it easier), but by suggesting that tomorrow I could head to a town just south of the large dike and catch a train into Amsterdam to look around (and that I would get out opposite the Tourist Bureau in Amsterdam and could get an all-day water-taxi ticket there to see most things).
I headed off and arrived in Dronrijp about 5, to find the place I was staying and be offered coffee and cake. We sat and had that, her husband turned up, and I showed them where I had been in Europe. Then I went to look around the town and the first street I went into was decorated and had all bird cutouts along the street. I was looking at and photographing these when I saw a group all dressed up and found out what the story was. Tomorrow there will be a festival and a street parade of about thirty floats. That street (Skries) is with a bird theme and this particular float is with a Rio dancers theme.
As I returned to where I was staying, I saw other streets – one had suitcases and bags outside nearly every house and another had people at work (which I suppose was how Santa got into the act). Just before I got back, I saw a bridge lift to allow a boat through.
Back at the house I unpacked, set up, did the processing of the photos and wrote my blog, but couldn’t find a network to tap into.
I burned a DVD for the family and took it down, but had trouble getting the computer they had (no DVD player for the TV) and so the husband brought another person in, who I had seen outside drinking coffee with them. We finally got to be able to see the photos and he was able to read the English captions I had on them. We chatted about Australia and ended up outside having a beer and talking about different countries and travel. When we finished, he offered to show me agricultural machinery here tomorrow morning and then told me he was their son. I made my way up to beed and finally got into bed an hour of so later than I had planned.
First of all the shower was one of the best while I have been away, and though I wondered why there was no bathmat down, I soon realised as water went everywhere, why it was not.
Secondly, breakfast was out as a right royal spread, and while there was no cereal or rolls, there was just about everything else. I hadn’t realised the night before that there was a fridge there, otherwise I would have put a coke bottle in to chill.
I set out to see the windmills in the province of Utrecht, the historical heart of Holland. I just wish they had put the actual address of the windmills, not the postal address – so I found myself looking through at the windmill, but unable to reach it. I persevered and got to see a few, all of different types. None of them were open, except by arrangement (and I didn’t have time to arrange). I had wanted to head right up to the north coast and then come back via the west coast. I made time by going up to Groningen on the main road, but then looked for minor roads heading north. I came across a beautiful windmill in a town called Ten Boer. I drove around to find a way into it (and did) and chanced upon the man who had restored it sitting there with a friend. As soon as he heard I was from Australia, he opened it up, showed me all around (the last few photos show a plan of he mill and the document he used as a template for the woodwork) and wouldn’t take anything, so I gave him a kangaroo and koala pin, which he seemed to really like.
I headed off north, but found it was going to take me quite a few hours to get around the north coast, even before heading south onto the west coast. I changed plans and headed straight for the northwest corner of Holland, but realised I would arrive well and truly after all the information centres shut. I found one along the way and set course to that, arriving about 3:30. The lady there was very helpful, not only ringing up and arranging a place (in Dutch, to make it easier), but by suggesting that tomorrow I could head to a town just south of the large dike and catch a train into Amsterdam to look around (and that I would get out opposite the Tourist Bureau in Amsterdam and could get an all-day water-taxi ticket there to see most things).
I headed off and arrived in Dronrijp about 5, to find the place I was staying and be offered coffee and cake. We sat and had that, her husband turned up, and I showed them where I had been in Europe. Then I went to look around the town and the first street I went into was decorated and had all bird cutouts along the street. I was looking at and photographing these when I saw a group all dressed up and found out what the story was. Tomorrow there will be a festival and a street parade of about thirty floats. That street (Skries) is with a bird theme and this particular float is with a Rio dancers theme.
As I returned to where I was staying, I saw other streets – one had suitcases and bags outside nearly every house and another had people at work (which I suppose was how Santa got into the act). Just before I got back, I saw a bridge lift to allow a boat through.
Back at the house I unpacked, set up, did the processing of the photos and wrote my blog, but couldn’t find a network to tap into.
I burned a DVD for the family and took it down, but had trouble getting the computer they had (no DVD player for the TV) and so the husband brought another person in, who I had seen outside drinking coffee with them. We finally got to be able to see the photos and he was able to read the English captions I had on them. We chatted about Australia and ended up outside having a beer and talking about different countries and travel. When we finished, he offered to show me agricultural machinery here tomorrow morning and then told me he was their son. I made my way up to beed and finally got into bed an hour of so later than I had planned.
22 May
After a sleep which included getting up to turn the drying laundry, I was up at 7:20 and prepared for breakfast at 8. When I got down there was already two women who had started, but no-one else. Within a few minutes there were two other couples and a few minutes after them, a family of parents with a young daughter and one set of grandparents. Breakfast was quite a spread, with the usual German fare of rolls, breads, cheese, ham and other meats, spreads, cereals and juices, but also after a few minutes, fried bacon and scrambled eggs. I had tea but all the others had coffee.
I have given up greeting people in the language of the country because sometimes they aren’t from there and have as much difficulty using the language as you do, but don’t realise you can speak English (or another language).
So breakfast took some time to get through, and I was ready to leave not long before 9.
Once in the car I set course for the Tourist Bureau at Amersfoort, not necessarily because I was going to go there, but it headed me in the right direction.
All went well until I got near Hamburg. The traffic came to a halt (it was about 10:20) and there were two lanes of trucks on the right and two lanes of cars on the left. I made sure the road was clear and went to change lanes, only to get collected by a Mercedes who hadn’t slowed down and so came into my left rear quarter at somewhere up to 120 km/hr. Fortunately there wasn’t much damage to my vehicle (except the wheel trim), but there was quite a bit of bending of the mudguard on his. We couldn’t stop as there was no emergency lane and the traffic was moving slowly ahead, but I realised afterward, if I had done something, the elderly man driving the Mercedes would have been in trouble, as the speed limit was 60 there (on the overhead signs) and he hit me in the back. Within a minute we were out of sight of each other and I think he heaved a sigh of relief.
It took nearly three quarters of an hour to get through Hamburg, because four lanes had to combine to two to go through the tunnel under the river. Once through, everything moved freely again.
I stopped not long after midday to have some lunch, eating some of the fruit from Aldi the day before.
I continued on and suddenly was in Holland (the Netherlands). The only real sign was the board proclaiming the Netherlands and the two Dutch traffic police on motorbikes who were very busy. I made sure I was well under the limit, as I didn’t want to meet them that way.
By about 2:30, Amersfoort was looking to be a fairly large town and perhaps difficult to park so I looked for another Tourist Bureau in the vicinity and found on in a little city called Woudenberg. I set course for there and found the place all right, but not the Tourist Bureau. After walking up ad down the street twice, I was going to walk with the SatNav but found a police car parked right in front of mine. I asked, found the policeman spoke good English, was given directions to the Tourist Bureau (actually over the other side of the main street – there are more errors with the European maps than the North American or Australian maps). I verified that I could park where I was – no problem, was the reply.
I walked up to the Tourist Bureau and again found someone who could speak English. As the city is so small, they didn’t have a brochure with a list, but there were a few individual brochures and a list from the Internet. The woman rang a few, but none answered. Armed with a few addresses and brochures I set off. The first one was able to take me tonight, but not tomorrow, so I settled for that. I will either visit windmills tomorrow or go to Amsterdam, but either way I will try to find a place for tomorrow evening in the morning.
I had a quick look at the room (split level – lounge area downstairs which can be used as extra accommodation and the bedroom upstairs) and then went back into the town to look around.
It nearly met my ideal of a Dutch town. Well over half of the people were on bicycles, with some having three on a bike (infant in the front and toddler on the back). Parents rode with children, teenagers rode holding hands, some ran the amber warning light (and tried to run the red) and there were large bike stands everywhere – some full, some not so full. I walked up and down the main shopping street, then along a few side streets and to the church, where a duck slept on the grass next to the roadway, oblivious of people going by. There was a moat around the church, so although the duck could get there, I couldn’t.
I drove back to the farm I was staying at (and on the way nearly had a heart attack as a cyclist I waved over in front of me waved back in acknowledgement), unpacked and had a look around, spoke with mine hostess (who watches McLeod’s Daughters on television) and then did my usual computer work. No Internet connection, so no checking email or uploading blogs or photos.
I have given up greeting people in the language of the country because sometimes they aren’t from there and have as much difficulty using the language as you do, but don’t realise you can speak English (or another language).
So breakfast took some time to get through, and I was ready to leave not long before 9.
Once in the car I set course for the Tourist Bureau at Amersfoort, not necessarily because I was going to go there, but it headed me in the right direction.
All went well until I got near Hamburg. The traffic came to a halt (it was about 10:20) and there were two lanes of trucks on the right and two lanes of cars on the left. I made sure the road was clear and went to change lanes, only to get collected by a Mercedes who hadn’t slowed down and so came into my left rear quarter at somewhere up to 120 km/hr. Fortunately there wasn’t much damage to my vehicle (except the wheel trim), but there was quite a bit of bending of the mudguard on his. We couldn’t stop as there was no emergency lane and the traffic was moving slowly ahead, but I realised afterward, if I had done something, the elderly man driving the Mercedes would have been in trouble, as the speed limit was 60 there (on the overhead signs) and he hit me in the back. Within a minute we were out of sight of each other and I think he heaved a sigh of relief.
It took nearly three quarters of an hour to get through Hamburg, because four lanes had to combine to two to go through the tunnel under the river. Once through, everything moved freely again.
I stopped not long after midday to have some lunch, eating some of the fruit from Aldi the day before.
I continued on and suddenly was in Holland (the Netherlands). The only real sign was the board proclaiming the Netherlands and the two Dutch traffic police on motorbikes who were very busy. I made sure I was well under the limit, as I didn’t want to meet them that way.
By about 2:30, Amersfoort was looking to be a fairly large town and perhaps difficult to park so I looked for another Tourist Bureau in the vicinity and found on in a little city called Woudenberg. I set course for there and found the place all right, but not the Tourist Bureau. After walking up ad down the street twice, I was going to walk with the SatNav but found a police car parked right in front of mine. I asked, found the policeman spoke good English, was given directions to the Tourist Bureau (actually over the other side of the main street – there are more errors with the European maps than the North American or Australian maps). I verified that I could park where I was – no problem, was the reply.
I walked up to the Tourist Bureau and again found someone who could speak English. As the city is so small, they didn’t have a brochure with a list, but there were a few individual brochures and a list from the Internet. The woman rang a few, but none answered. Armed with a few addresses and brochures I set off. The first one was able to take me tonight, but not tomorrow, so I settled for that. I will either visit windmills tomorrow or go to Amsterdam, but either way I will try to find a place for tomorrow evening in the morning.
I had a quick look at the room (split level – lounge area downstairs which can be used as extra accommodation and the bedroom upstairs) and then went back into the town to look around.
It nearly met my ideal of a Dutch town. Well over half of the people were on bicycles, with some having three on a bike (infant in the front and toddler on the back). Parents rode with children, teenagers rode holding hands, some ran the amber warning light (and tried to run the red) and there were large bike stands everywhere – some full, some not so full. I walked up and down the main shopping street, then along a few side streets and to the church, where a duck slept on the grass next to the roadway, oblivious of people going by. There was a moat around the church, so although the duck could get there, I couldn’t.
I drove back to the farm I was staying at (and on the way nearly had a heart attack as a cyclist I waved over in front of me waved back in acknowledgement), unpacked and had a look around, spoke with mine hostess (who watches McLeod’s Daughters on television) and then did my usual computer work. No Internet connection, so no checking email or uploading blogs or photos.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
21 May
Today was a sad day as I had to leave a family I had never met until two days ago but have become very close to in a short time.
I rose just after 7, prepared, had breakfast with Gitte and then finished packing and was ready to leave. I said my goodbyes and very reluctantly was back on the road again.
I set course for Ribe, the oldest town in Denmark, and was there not long after 11. I parked, found the main street (I cheated – I already had the brochure and map of the town) and then walked along to the church. This is notable for at least two reasons – the sight from the tower, over the whole town and surrounding countryside and the controversial mosaics in the nave. Both were spectacular, but in different ways. I very slowly returned to the car, soaking in the atmosphere on the way back.
I had to refuel along the way, which slowed me down a few minutes, but I arrived in my next target town, Friedrichstadt, by 2. Again I parked (but not being in Denmark, I had to pay for the parking), then walked down along a busy (pedestrian) street until I found the Tourist Bureau. I got a list of B&Bs for the town and the surrounding region, then walked around the inner part of the town. My walk was interrupted by a drake being very amorous with a duck, oblivious to the people around. I found a nice bakery and had some bread rolls, but none of the other bread matches the French.
I selected what I thought would be a reasonable B&B, supposed to be on the outskirts of the town. The SatNav couldn’t find it, so I put in another town name and it did. Off I went, found the place, and yes, it was only a few hundred metres from the centre of Friedrichstadt – but on the other side of the river. I booked in, even though the cost was a little higher than I wanted (and I had to pay extra for Internet, which I didn’t find out until AFTER I had agreed to take the room) but it was made up by wonderful surroundings.
I drove back to the city via Aldi, getting some fruit to have for tea today and lunch tomorrow. Then I did a more extensive walk around the town and was amazed at what I saw.
Even in very old cities, the (old) centre is not very large because, until medical advances and good sanitation, populations didn’t increase very fast. Once those two problems had been overcome, but people still had the mindset of have as many children as possible because most would die, the population did literally explode until people’s ideas changed. So towns have a large, newer (but still to me old) area surrounding the central ancient area.
The number of parks was large in such a small place, there were concessions to modern life and people still have to live normal lives. All of these are shown up because I took a series of photos as I walked around.
I returned to the B&B, took some more photos (there was a very young foal at the end of the lawn), unpacked the car (and took the opportunity to dry the laundry, which was still damp), did the normal processing work and then uploaded everything, checked email, and eventually went to sleep.
I rose just after 7, prepared, had breakfast with Gitte and then finished packing and was ready to leave. I said my goodbyes and very reluctantly was back on the road again.
I set course for Ribe, the oldest town in Denmark, and was there not long after 11. I parked, found the main street (I cheated – I already had the brochure and map of the town) and then walked along to the church. This is notable for at least two reasons – the sight from the tower, over the whole town and surrounding countryside and the controversial mosaics in the nave. Both were spectacular, but in different ways. I very slowly returned to the car, soaking in the atmosphere on the way back.
I had to refuel along the way, which slowed me down a few minutes, but I arrived in my next target town, Friedrichstadt, by 2. Again I parked (but not being in Denmark, I had to pay for the parking), then walked down along a busy (pedestrian) street until I found the Tourist Bureau. I got a list of B&Bs for the town and the surrounding region, then walked around the inner part of the town. My walk was interrupted by a drake being very amorous with a duck, oblivious to the people around. I found a nice bakery and had some bread rolls, but none of the other bread matches the French.
I selected what I thought would be a reasonable B&B, supposed to be on the outskirts of the town. The SatNav couldn’t find it, so I put in another town name and it did. Off I went, found the place, and yes, it was only a few hundred metres from the centre of Friedrichstadt – but on the other side of the river. I booked in, even though the cost was a little higher than I wanted (and I had to pay extra for Internet, which I didn’t find out until AFTER I had agreed to take the room) but it was made up by wonderful surroundings.
I drove back to the city via Aldi, getting some fruit to have for tea today and lunch tomorrow. Then I did a more extensive walk around the town and was amazed at what I saw.
Even in very old cities, the (old) centre is not very large because, until medical advances and good sanitation, populations didn’t increase very fast. Once those two problems had been overcome, but people still had the mindset of have as many children as possible because most would die, the population did literally explode until people’s ideas changed. So towns have a large, newer (but still to me old) area surrounding the central ancient area.
The number of parks was large in such a small place, there were concessions to modern life and people still have to live normal lives. All of these are shown up because I took a series of photos as I walked around.
I returned to the B&B, took some more photos (there was a very young foal at the end of the lawn), unpacked the car (and took the opportunity to dry the laundry, which was still damp), did the normal processing work and then uploaded everything, checked email, and eventually went to sleep.
20 May
Today was a very different day.
I arose at 7 and had a shower, then was ready for breakfast about 7:30. I had a typical Danish breakfast of bread and cheese (apart from the vegemite I put on the bread).
Gitte then took me on a drive through to Thorsminde, where there is a museum dedicated to the shipwrecks along the coast and the Battle of Jutland. On the way we went through typical areas between Fjelstervarg and the coast, with forests planted about a hundred years ago and some replanted since then (the older trees are showing signs of age and need to be trimmed/removed). Some of the area was growing crops (winter and spring wheat and maize, mainly as cattle fodder and canola) and some was devoted to dairy cattle (of at least three types; fresian, ? and jersey which gives much higher butterfat content) and a little devoted to cattle for meat.
As we approached the coast, the land became sandier and dunes were visible. There were a few summer homes (holiday houses) on the coastal side and we approached a harbour, which was Thorsminde. There were sluices and a lock on the harbour between the sea and the inland area (also saline, where the mussels require salt to live). We parked, had a look around the harbour and then looked around the Strandingsmuseum. This has exhibits from the HMS St George, a former Nelson flagship. It also has exhibits from U-boats lost on the coast and from the Battle of Jutland, including some dioramas. There were two short videos we watched on the Battle of Jutland and the recovery of artefacts from the St George. Then we walked up the dunes and saw the beach area and the area used for fishing, and I heard about the number of tourists who died there because of not observing elementary safety precautions.
We went south to the village of Ringkøbing. After parking and setting the time clock (a plastic clock on the window, in front of the passenger, a P-timer) we walked through an old street down to the harbour. This has been revitalised since the old boatyards went. Then we returned to the centre along another old street, where the style of houses was seen to change from those built on stone foundations to those on brick to those on concrete. Also the bricks changed from hand-made brick to manufactured brick. Then we looked into the Tourist Bureau and got some information before Gitte showed me the old County Council chambers upstairs where the County council used to meet and there were photos of all the councillors.
We had lunch at the old hotel in the square before driving back to the house in Kinæk. Along the way we saw more planted fields and more typical farmhouses, with large barns and very large stalls for the animals (which need to be kept inside during winter).
After returning home we looked over maps of where I had been (and I noted the names of where to visit, so I won’t get lost tomorrow – Ribe, the oldest town in Denmark, and Friedrichstade in Germany) and Australia.
Then we had afternoon coffee in the summerhouse with the builders and discussed a little of Australia. I got a tour of the garden and an explanation of how it was developing (and the new garden storage building was a new part of it) and the growth of the house.
I did a little writing up while Gitte was out doing some shopping.
After, Peter arrived home and soon we had tea. Over coffee after we talked about travel in the middle east and things to see and what to be careful about, I talked about the things I had done which were successful and I would note down in future blog pages for others (if they were interested) and eventually we all headed off. I said thank you to Peter and Gitte and went off, to finish this blog and process the photos and eventually get to bed.
I arose at 7 and had a shower, then was ready for breakfast about 7:30. I had a typical Danish breakfast of bread and cheese (apart from the vegemite I put on the bread).
Gitte then took me on a drive through to Thorsminde, where there is a museum dedicated to the shipwrecks along the coast and the Battle of Jutland. On the way we went through typical areas between Fjelstervarg and the coast, with forests planted about a hundred years ago and some replanted since then (the older trees are showing signs of age and need to be trimmed/removed). Some of the area was growing crops (winter and spring wheat and maize, mainly as cattle fodder and canola) and some was devoted to dairy cattle (of at least three types; fresian, ? and jersey which gives much higher butterfat content) and a little devoted to cattle for meat.
As we approached the coast, the land became sandier and dunes were visible. There were a few summer homes (holiday houses) on the coastal side and we approached a harbour, which was Thorsminde. There were sluices and a lock on the harbour between the sea and the inland area (also saline, where the mussels require salt to live). We parked, had a look around the harbour and then looked around the Strandingsmuseum. This has exhibits from the HMS St George, a former Nelson flagship. It also has exhibits from U-boats lost on the coast and from the Battle of Jutland, including some dioramas. There were two short videos we watched on the Battle of Jutland and the recovery of artefacts from the St George. Then we walked up the dunes and saw the beach area and the area used for fishing, and I heard about the number of tourists who died there because of not observing elementary safety precautions.
We went south to the village of Ringkøbing. After parking and setting the time clock (a plastic clock on the window, in front of the passenger, a P-timer) we walked through an old street down to the harbour. This has been revitalised since the old boatyards went. Then we returned to the centre along another old street, where the style of houses was seen to change from those built on stone foundations to those on brick to those on concrete. Also the bricks changed from hand-made brick to manufactured brick. Then we looked into the Tourist Bureau and got some information before Gitte showed me the old County Council chambers upstairs where the County council used to meet and there were photos of all the councillors.
We had lunch at the old hotel in the square before driving back to the house in Kinæk. Along the way we saw more planted fields and more typical farmhouses, with large barns and very large stalls for the animals (which need to be kept inside during winter).
After returning home we looked over maps of where I had been (and I noted the names of where to visit, so I won’t get lost tomorrow – Ribe, the oldest town in Denmark, and Friedrichstade in Germany) and Australia.
Then we had afternoon coffee in the summerhouse with the builders and discussed a little of Australia. I got a tour of the garden and an explanation of how it was developing (and the new garden storage building was a new part of it) and the growth of the house.
I did a little writing up while Gitte was out doing some shopping.
After, Peter arrived home and soon we had tea. Over coffee after we talked about travel in the middle east and things to see and what to be careful about, I talked about the things I had done which were successful and I would note down in future blog pages for others (if they were interested) and eventually we all headed off. I said thank you to Peter and Gitte and went off, to finish this blog and process the photos and eventually get to bed.
19 May
And so the day dawned on my first day in Denmark.
I awoke later than usual (truer in intent than in fact, as I got up later) and was prepared by about 9 to leave. I packed all my laundry into the car (shirts hanging, socks and some underwear across the back), checked, left the key to the room in the letterbox and headed out. I arrived at the Dansk Auto HiFi to find … it didn’t open until 10. I headed into the city of Køge instead, intent on seeing if there were other options regarding my now defunct SatNav. I found the Tourist Bureau after studying the map in the town square carefully – and realised that had I turned around I would have seen it just as quickly.
I headed over, hoping that it would be open earlier than most business houses and … it was! Success! The young lady who attended to me spoke impeccable English and knew of a retail dealer in such devices – El Giganten. She gave me a map to locate it (turn left at McDonald’s) but didn’t think it opened until 10, and advised me to have a coffee while waiting. I thought I would break with tradition and have a McDonald’s breakfast, as I had to pass there anyway and found … it didn’t open until 10 for breakfast, as well. I headed down to the El Giganten store and had a quick look about Belgium in my Lonely Planet guide, then noticed that there was a line outside the store. I went and joined it, then was followed by others, who I now noticed were brandishing catalogues – low and behold, I had turned up to a massive sale. By 10 the threatening weather was turning to rain and the doors opened just as the heavens opened. I got inside, found they did in fact sell TomTom units and espied a salesman who wasn’t busy, who told me, no, I only sell whitegoods. I found another, but he told me to see the TomTom expert, who by now was dealing with the same line of customers as I had seen outside. I had to join the line and eventually (after ten minutes) got to see him. I explained the situation, he tried a reset to no avail and then tried to contact the TomTom help line. After twenty minutes he got through, having to speak to them in English, and explained the situation in great (and correct) detail. After a lot of toing and froing, the upshot was that he was not able to swap units, and I would have to contact TomTom to arrange repair/replacement. To say I was not happy was an understatement (but wait, as Tim Shaw said, there’s more). I needed action immediately so asked if they had one in stock – yes. Then the cash register wouldn’t take my credit card (I find it amazing that petrol stations and toll roads all take the card with no problems whatsoever, but bookshops and now electrical stores won’t accept the card). I used my debit card, which went through without any problems, and was also advised to keep the receipt and produce it, with my passport, when I left Europe for a tax rebate.
Out I went to the car, pulled the unit out and plugged the power in, then put my card in. No problem with the power, but it wouldn’t accept the map card – I needed to visit the TomTom website to get an activation code. Went back to see the salesman, who advised me that the Western Europe map was preloaded and I didn’t need the card – except of course, all the addresses I needed and my preferences, including voices, were on that card. Now I got it working and put in the centre of Copenhagen and headed off, with an irritating English female voice telling me where to go, instead of the irritating Australian Ken voice. By now it was pouring rain, and despite ringing Simon’s number a few times, I couldn’t get through (it was busy). I headed off and stopped twice to call, finally getting Simon on the third attempt while driving (not singing) in the rain. Simon was very busy with various negotiations and would be tied up all day. As Copenhagen in the rain was not a pleasant option as a tourist, I programmed the (new) SatNav to take me out to Kinæk on the west coast. The rain was heavier now and roadworks had again appeared to plague me, so I didn’t call the Hansens. After a two hour run, I stopped for lunch and rang. I was due to arrive about 4:20, and all was okay. Off I went, buoyed with at least some success and headed into alternate bouts of sunshine and heavy rain.
I arrived at Kinæk at 4:15, after heading far further along the road than I was instructed, but knowing I was heading in the correct direction and hadn’t come across the house yet (but found it within a minute). I stopped the car and was greeted from within, so found where the front door was. After introductions, I showed Gitte some photos of Fran and then burned a DVD of many of the pictures. We went out to the sunhouse and had coffee, talking about travel experiences from both sides. After about half an hour, Peter arrived home from work. We continued our chat, then I was informed that I was invited to stay. I accepted, but only for the next day. Peter then took me for a tour of the local town, Herning, a project his company was working on (currently a big hole in the ground but soon to be an underground car park, hotel, apartments and sporting and literary facilities – very impressive), other local factories, a echo chamber/babel/stylish lookout (Elia), some early Jan Utzon projects and the old town centre. Then we were back to have tea (very delicious typical Danish meatball dinner) and continued our chat about travel throughout the world and Australia in particular. After dinner we retired for coffee and slice (do I really look that ravenous that everyone thinks I need to eat more?) and a discussion over what I was going to be shown tomorrow and a possible route down to the Netherlands which would include history and natural sights.
Then, after a discussion on school leaving ages and language teaching, and exchange students, I went up to the room prepared for me, did my usual chores and was ready for bed by 11:45. We’re off to the west coast tomorrow.
I awoke later than usual (truer in intent than in fact, as I got up later) and was prepared by about 9 to leave. I packed all my laundry into the car (shirts hanging, socks and some underwear across the back), checked, left the key to the room in the letterbox and headed out. I arrived at the Dansk Auto HiFi to find … it didn’t open until 10. I headed into the city of Køge instead, intent on seeing if there were other options regarding my now defunct SatNav. I found the Tourist Bureau after studying the map in the town square carefully – and realised that had I turned around I would have seen it just as quickly.
I headed over, hoping that it would be open earlier than most business houses and … it was! Success! The young lady who attended to me spoke impeccable English and knew of a retail dealer in such devices – El Giganten. She gave me a map to locate it (turn left at McDonald’s) but didn’t think it opened until 10, and advised me to have a coffee while waiting. I thought I would break with tradition and have a McDonald’s breakfast, as I had to pass there anyway and found … it didn’t open until 10 for breakfast, as well. I headed down to the El Giganten store and had a quick look about Belgium in my Lonely Planet guide, then noticed that there was a line outside the store. I went and joined it, then was followed by others, who I now noticed were brandishing catalogues – low and behold, I had turned up to a massive sale. By 10 the threatening weather was turning to rain and the doors opened just as the heavens opened. I got inside, found they did in fact sell TomTom units and espied a salesman who wasn’t busy, who told me, no, I only sell whitegoods. I found another, but he told me to see the TomTom expert, who by now was dealing with the same line of customers as I had seen outside. I had to join the line and eventually (after ten minutes) got to see him. I explained the situation, he tried a reset to no avail and then tried to contact the TomTom help line. After twenty minutes he got through, having to speak to them in English, and explained the situation in great (and correct) detail. After a lot of toing and froing, the upshot was that he was not able to swap units, and I would have to contact TomTom to arrange repair/replacement. To say I was not happy was an understatement (but wait, as Tim Shaw said, there’s more). I needed action immediately so asked if they had one in stock – yes. Then the cash register wouldn’t take my credit card (I find it amazing that petrol stations and toll roads all take the card with no problems whatsoever, but bookshops and now electrical stores won’t accept the card). I used my debit card, which went through without any problems, and was also advised to keep the receipt and produce it, with my passport, when I left Europe for a tax rebate.
Out I went to the car, pulled the unit out and plugged the power in, then put my card in. No problem with the power, but it wouldn’t accept the map card – I needed to visit the TomTom website to get an activation code. Went back to see the salesman, who advised me that the Western Europe map was preloaded and I didn’t need the card – except of course, all the addresses I needed and my preferences, including voices, were on that card. Now I got it working and put in the centre of Copenhagen and headed off, with an irritating English female voice telling me where to go, instead of the irritating Australian Ken voice. By now it was pouring rain, and despite ringing Simon’s number a few times, I couldn’t get through (it was busy). I headed off and stopped twice to call, finally getting Simon on the third attempt while driving (not singing) in the rain. Simon was very busy with various negotiations and would be tied up all day. As Copenhagen in the rain was not a pleasant option as a tourist, I programmed the (new) SatNav to take me out to Kinæk on the west coast. The rain was heavier now and roadworks had again appeared to plague me, so I didn’t call the Hansens. After a two hour run, I stopped for lunch and rang. I was due to arrive about 4:20, and all was okay. Off I went, buoyed with at least some success and headed into alternate bouts of sunshine and heavy rain.
I arrived at Kinæk at 4:15, after heading far further along the road than I was instructed, but knowing I was heading in the correct direction and hadn’t come across the house yet (but found it within a minute). I stopped the car and was greeted from within, so found where the front door was. After introductions, I showed Gitte some photos of Fran and then burned a DVD of many of the pictures. We went out to the sunhouse and had coffee, talking about travel experiences from both sides. After about half an hour, Peter arrived home from work. We continued our chat, then I was informed that I was invited to stay. I accepted, but only for the next day. Peter then took me for a tour of the local town, Herning, a project his company was working on (currently a big hole in the ground but soon to be an underground car park, hotel, apartments and sporting and literary facilities – very impressive), other local factories, a echo chamber/babel/stylish lookout (Elia), some early Jan Utzon projects and the old town centre. Then we were back to have tea (very delicious typical Danish meatball dinner) and continued our chat about travel throughout the world and Australia in particular. After dinner we retired for coffee and slice (do I really look that ravenous that everyone thinks I need to eat more?) and a discussion over what I was going to be shown tomorrow and a possible route down to the Netherlands which would include history and natural sights.
Then, after a discussion on school leaving ages and language teaching, and exchange students, I went up to the room prepared for me, did my usual chores and was ready for bed by 11:45. We’re off to the west coast tomorrow.
18 May
Today started out with preparing myself and then having another full breakfast – the usual fare, including cereals. Got tea all right, and brewed well. There was another place set, but I never got to see if anyone sat there.
I settled the account, finished packing up and then headed out. I thought the route I followed was similar t the way I came in, but I didn’t pass any towns I recognised. I programmed the SatNav for the quickest journey to Copenhagen, as today is Sunday and I wanted to arrive in time to choose accommodation, even if there was no tourist bureau open.
Everything went well and I stopped at a rest stop to empty the rubbish bag out and have a bit of a walk around. The SatNav stopped working so I reset it and kept on.
I was surprised to arrive at a ferry terminal just after midday, so checked my route and, yes, a ferry trip was the shortest route. It saves a long trip around through Jutland. But just before I went to get my ticket, the SatNav stopped again and wouldn’t start. That was no problem for the next hour or so (I was on a ferry with nowhere else to go) and even for the run into Copenhagen, but to find anything in Copenhagen and find my way around it was a disaster. I boarded the ferry, found the safety equipment was made in Germany but licensed for Australia (among other countries) and had a good trip over. I notice many of the Scandinavians returning home were loaded to the gunwales with booze – apparently far cheaper in Germany than at home. In common with other ferry rides, many headed straight to the restaurants and starting eating, even before we had left the quay. Duty-free alcohol and cigarettes had to wait until we were in (technically) international waters. The trip was reasonably smooth with a slight easterly swell. I’ve never had so many ferry trips as in the past five months.
At the dock I tried the SatNav again, reset it, tried it with the computer power supply, but still no luck. I headed up towards Copenhagen, then turned off at an exit where a likely town was. There was an information sign indicating a motel in the town, so that looked a good bet for overnight. I found it and booked in, even though it was a little over my budget and had no breakfast included, as there is a shop down the road dealing in TomTom SatNavs, so hopefully I can either get it fixed, replaced (it’s still under warranty, but of course all the documentation is at home) or get another identical model, load up my maps and then figure out what to do either once I get home or when I am in the Netherlands (the home of Tomtom).
Plan B swung into operation and I used the handheld GPS to mark the position of the motel and then I headed off into Copenhagen to do the main thing I wanted to here – drive across the tunnel/bridge to Sweden. That was easy enough as it was on a main road all the way, but there are no marked stops for photo opportunities – I will have to utilise some of the publicity shots.
The drive over was great and the view fantastic – from the ships near the bridge to the windmills in the water off to the east. Then I had to pay the toll and met Swedish Customs on the other side. I explained what I was doing and got told where to turn, and asked what I thought of the tunnel/bridge (great!) but got no stamps or anything, so all I have are the toll receipts (it’s not cheap) and some photos I took at the information area on the Swedish side.
I was able to return to the motel okay using the handheld GPS, but I had asked about laundrettes in the town – none! The first order of business was to wash underwear and a few shirts. The room looks like a laundry, with socks on the window ledge, underwear on the table and shirts drip-drying in the shower recess. If they don’t all dry by tomorrow, hopefully they will dry in the car.
Once that was out of the way, I rang Kristian’s family – he is a Dane who stayed with Fran and the family about ten years ago now. His mother answered, I established who I was and found out that Kristian is doing the last project in his computing degree course and won’t be home, but if I get things fixed, and am able to, I will call in tomorrow afternoon on my way past, say hello and leave a DVD of pictures for the family.
I still have one more to ring, Simon, who I met in Tasmania when visiting friends of Fran’s. He coaches and plays soccer here, but whether he is actually in the country or not is problematic.
Two other things before I forget (too easily done these days).
I saw my first motor vehicle accident in Germany yesterday afternoon. I came around a corner to see a warning triangle on the road, so slowed and looked around. Here was a bright blue car with its headlights either side of a decent-sized tree. Two men were looking at it as if wondering what to do – it was about five metres off the road, and the road wasn’t too bad, so he must have been moving very quickly or not in control at all.
The second thing is that at roadworks they use yellow paint – all over Europe, by what I have seen. So when the roadworks are finished, they just paint the white ones back and let the yellow ones wear out. Drivers all know to follow the white only when there are no roadwork signs. Simple, and very effective.
I’ve rung Simon, and talk about coincidence! I’m staying in the town of the soccer club he plays for, even though he resides in Copenhagen. He’s quite busy over the next few days so I will ring him again tomorrow when (if?) I sort out the SatNav and know where I am and where I am going. If possible I will catch up with him in the late morning and catch up with Kristian’s family in the late afternoon.
Now it’s off to sleep.
I settled the account, finished packing up and then headed out. I thought the route I followed was similar t the way I came in, but I didn’t pass any towns I recognised. I programmed the SatNav for the quickest journey to Copenhagen, as today is Sunday and I wanted to arrive in time to choose accommodation, even if there was no tourist bureau open.
Everything went well and I stopped at a rest stop to empty the rubbish bag out and have a bit of a walk around. The SatNav stopped working so I reset it and kept on.
I was surprised to arrive at a ferry terminal just after midday, so checked my route and, yes, a ferry trip was the shortest route. It saves a long trip around through Jutland. But just before I went to get my ticket, the SatNav stopped again and wouldn’t start. That was no problem for the next hour or so (I was on a ferry with nowhere else to go) and even for the run into Copenhagen, but to find anything in Copenhagen and find my way around it was a disaster. I boarded the ferry, found the safety equipment was made in Germany but licensed for Australia (among other countries) and had a good trip over. I notice many of the Scandinavians returning home were loaded to the gunwales with booze – apparently far cheaper in Germany than at home. In common with other ferry rides, many headed straight to the restaurants and starting eating, even before we had left the quay. Duty-free alcohol and cigarettes had to wait until we were in (technically) international waters. The trip was reasonably smooth with a slight easterly swell. I’ve never had so many ferry trips as in the past five months.
At the dock I tried the SatNav again, reset it, tried it with the computer power supply, but still no luck. I headed up towards Copenhagen, then turned off at an exit where a likely town was. There was an information sign indicating a motel in the town, so that looked a good bet for overnight. I found it and booked in, even though it was a little over my budget and had no breakfast included, as there is a shop down the road dealing in TomTom SatNavs, so hopefully I can either get it fixed, replaced (it’s still under warranty, but of course all the documentation is at home) or get another identical model, load up my maps and then figure out what to do either once I get home or when I am in the Netherlands (the home of Tomtom).
Plan B swung into operation and I used the handheld GPS to mark the position of the motel and then I headed off into Copenhagen to do the main thing I wanted to here – drive across the tunnel/bridge to Sweden. That was easy enough as it was on a main road all the way, but there are no marked stops for photo opportunities – I will have to utilise some of the publicity shots.
The drive over was great and the view fantastic – from the ships near the bridge to the windmills in the water off to the east. Then I had to pay the toll and met Swedish Customs on the other side. I explained what I was doing and got told where to turn, and asked what I thought of the tunnel/bridge (great!) but got no stamps or anything, so all I have are the toll receipts (it’s not cheap) and some photos I took at the information area on the Swedish side.
I was able to return to the motel okay using the handheld GPS, but I had asked about laundrettes in the town – none! The first order of business was to wash underwear and a few shirts. The room looks like a laundry, with socks on the window ledge, underwear on the table and shirts drip-drying in the shower recess. If they don’t all dry by tomorrow, hopefully they will dry in the car.
Once that was out of the way, I rang Kristian’s family – he is a Dane who stayed with Fran and the family about ten years ago now. His mother answered, I established who I was and found out that Kristian is doing the last project in his computing degree course and won’t be home, but if I get things fixed, and am able to, I will call in tomorrow afternoon on my way past, say hello and leave a DVD of pictures for the family.
I still have one more to ring, Simon, who I met in Tasmania when visiting friends of Fran’s. He coaches and plays soccer here, but whether he is actually in the country or not is problematic.
Two other things before I forget (too easily done these days).
I saw my first motor vehicle accident in Germany yesterday afternoon. I came around a corner to see a warning triangle on the road, so slowed and looked around. Here was a bright blue car with its headlights either side of a decent-sized tree. Two men were looking at it as if wondering what to do – it was about five metres off the road, and the road wasn’t too bad, so he must have been moving very quickly or not in control at all.
The second thing is that at roadworks they use yellow paint – all over Europe, by what I have seen. So when the roadworks are finished, they just paint the white ones back and let the yellow ones wear out. Drivers all know to follow the white only when there are no roadwork signs. Simple, and very effective.
I’ve rung Simon, and talk about coincidence! I’m staying in the town of the soccer club he plays for, even though he resides in Copenhagen. He’s quite busy over the next few days so I will ring him again tomorrow when (if?) I sort out the SatNav and know where I am and where I am going. If possible I will catch up with him in the late morning and catch up with Kristian’s family in the late afternoon.
Now it’s off to sleep.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
17 May
To quote from Dr Hook, “Before I begin, thank you, thank you” … for reading all this.
Some items I forgot from yesterday:
As I left Innsbruck yesterday and drove across the Inn, I saw a walking school bus. I don’t know where the idea came from, but it was successful there, with all seats full.
As I drove along beside a river (and there are many of them in Europe, all with water in them and as such, a strange sight for me) I saw a barge with a car on it. The owner/operators live on the barges and it is common to see the washing hanging out, and in older times, horses on there to be used as transport when the barge was tied up. I suppose they have just moved with the times, as evidenced also by satellite dishes on the barges. In some cases they were pushing containers but some were complete with holds.
As I booked into the hotel at Zell, four cyclists also booked in. As I said before, cycling here is not for the rugged, but more for those who want to show how it should be done, without lycra and gritted teeth, but with panache, loose clothing and comfort in cuisine and accommodation.
I had shut the shutters, so had to rely on the mobile to wake me. It did, I arose and found that although the shower looked perfect, the hard water had clogged some of the nozzles so there was a very powerful spray but only from three holes, and consequently very harsh. Also, the shower curtain didn’t sit on the walls, and so despite my best efforts, the floor was awash by the time I got out. I had wondered why there was no bathmat, and my question was answered! I managed to dry off, dress and be down for breakfast.
Breakfast was the buffet style I have come to expect from German/Austrian commercial accommodation – bread rolls in abundance, sliced ham and other meats, sliced cheese in at least two varieties, fresh fruit, orange juice, butter, a variety of spreads and a form of sausage unique to the area. While some may criticise it, you never leave feeling empty (or if you do, you only have yourself to blame). I had ham and cheese rolls (with vegemite of course) and expected at any moment to be outwitted by a police dog and lose the ham rolls.
A couple came down and although they professed not to speak much English, I soon found out that they were from Munich, the wife was on holidays, they had taken the train north and were cycling down the Main River. If the weather remained fine, they would cycle all the way to Munich – if not, they would catch the train back from where they finished. A very civilised way to experience the countryside.
I settled my account, packed the car, photographed the bar and breakfast buffet, then headed off. I was on the main road by 8:45 and out of the Wurzburg environs before 9. I set course to the Tourist Bureau in Copenhagen, but found that if I avoided the Autobahns, then it was going to take me around twelve hours, so I decided on a compromise. I would travel the byways if all was clear and well and the Autobahns if the weather was inclement. I would see where I was in the middle of the afternoon and reassess.
As I travelled the byways, some things were clear. German drivers, like other Europeans, really cut corners. Very few bends on winding roads had the centre line visible – it disappeared for about fifty metres either side of the bend. I made sure I was well over my side of my lane, but still there were many instances where I saw the car coming towards me and almost jumping back into its lane (and often not making it, so I was glad I was as far over as I could be).
Very few rest stops had toilets of any form, and in the villages I passed through, I never saw any signs of any (but that may be because I am unsure of what to look for, a problem I cleared up in France).
Driving along roads in forested areas, it was obvious which suffered from ice by the grit boxes liberally sprinkled along some roads and totally absent from others. The grit is spread on the road to allow vehicles to gain traction in icy conditions, much easier on car bodies than the habit of salting roads in many places.
At the beginning of each village is the village name in a sign, which also serves as the restriction (to fifty kilometres per hour unless otherwise signed). At the end is another sign with a diagonal red slash to indicate the end of the restriction (and up to one hundred kilometres per hour, again unless otherwise signed), but in Germany there is also the name of the next town and usually the distance to it. This is very handy if you think you may want to overtake the vehicle in front (don’t if the distance is only one kilometre) or if you want to look for shops or other facilities.
The characteristics of certain classes of car drivers is also interesting. Top-down cars are either speed demons or totally relaxed and at ease with the world. It’s fun trying to pick which is which if you are next to them at traffic lights and then head off onto a rural road. However, Smart cars are misnamed if their drivers are taken into account. Braking after the stop line, sitting right in the middle of the road (not their lane) and trying to keep up with traffic on open-speed-limited Autobahns show the drivers are not as smart as the cars. However, in narrow old city streets and on country lanes, they are brilliant – if driven correctly.
The weather closed and drizzle started, so I set off onto the Autobahns. The weather cleared slightly, so I can answer the question some of you may have been wondering about. The little Renault Clio will top 180 km/hr, but lacks any grunt over 160. But at 180, being a light car, it is wind buffeted terribly by trucks when overtaking them, and, let’s just say that it doesn’t have a good grip on the road. I would back even the Barina (or Opel Corsa 1.4, if you’re European) for better roadholding, and the top speed is about the same, even though the torque for passing is less. 130 is the Renault Clio’s practical limit, unless you play a CD of “Nearer my God to Thee” and want it to come true.
After an hour of so, I changed my destination to the Tourist Bureau in Hamburg. I still kept on with the fastest way, as I realised it is Saturday and so things may shut early and people may be out. But a sudden “ping!” in my ear as I was overtaking in rain made me hesitate until I realised it was just the car saying I had used fifty-five litres of diesel and had better think about refuelling. This is one of the criticisms of the car I have which would stop me form ever getting one, despite its frugal use of fuel and great city and open-road performance up to 130. A few other criticisms include: thick roof pillars which limit visibility diagonally in both forward directions (so you have to move your head forward and scan in both directions at intersections, otherwise you will get caught out), no visibility over the driver’s left shoulder (what isn’t hidden by the pillar is hidden by the headrest), the cruise control switch hidden but the on/off and up/down settings on the wheel and impossible to locate when turning a bend or corner and, of course, those accursed mirrors which are TOTALLY useless. I had a discussion with a motoring writer who said you can adapt to them after consistent use – HE’S WRONG! The different views in the rear vision mirrors and only the centre one being consistent with reality means every glance has to be reassessed. I have learned to live with them by ignoring them, and so have moved back to before 1959, when cars didn’t have outside rear vision mirrors.
I pulled over to refuel (and found I had accidentally found the most expensive diesel in Germany, but had no choice as I didn’t want it to run empty and I have no real idea of the tank capacity) and decided to refill tummy as well. At a Burger King I found units of the German Army living off the land and walking back to their vehicles with the small crowns. I wonder if the German taxpayers know how their army personnel eat and take their lives seriously! When I went to go to the toilet, I found a turnstile and cash slot – yet I’m a paying customer. This is poor PR on the part of the Autobahn administration to let this happen.
When I left there, it was raining quite heavily, so I thought I would look for accommodation earlier. I set course for the nearest Tourist Bureau, on the grounds that if it was rural they would probably have information posted outside on B&Bs, even if they were closed – and besides, the little Renault did not fill me with confidence if I had to brake heavily on the autobahn in the wet!
I found myself skirting an army area. Signs on the road included “Give way to tanks.” Now even if I’m driving a fourteen tonne prime mover, I’m going to give way to a fifty tonne tank, no matter what a sign says. Driving a car of about a tonne means the tank will win every time, with its driver hardly noticing the pile of scrap metal on the road.
I found I was heading towards Hermannsburg, a twist as when in the Northern Territory, they had all gone on holiday as the same time as we had. I hoped this wasn’t going to be the same.
One ironic twist of travelling under the guidance of the SatNav is that, unless you study the route directions beforehand (which you can’t if you program it while driving), you know exactly where you are going, with total confidence, but you have no idea of where you are. It was with a measure of sadness that the town name of Belsen popped up in front of me. I was interested, but saddened, feeling for what happened but realising that all those Germans who I meet weren’t even born then.
I arrived in Hermannsburg and found the Tourist Bureau (closed), but with a list of accommodation houses outside.
I found one, a small hotel (which I reasoned would be more likely to have someone on duty than a Zimmer was to have someone at home, in the middle of a Saturday afternoon (4:30)), and it also advertised Internet. I found it, after a Cook’s tour through the back streets, and yes, there was someone there, yes, there was room, and yes, they did have Internet access. I forgot to ask about a Laundromat, so did the unthinkable and washed out underwear and will wear my T-shirts if I can’t find a laundromat tomorrow. I also found out that the Internet is a pay-for-use, but even with the (excessive) charge, the night with breakfast will still set me back less than €40, which is my standard at the moment (then the day, with food, costs me less than €50, and the car fuel costs me about €30 – all up, about A$140 per day, which is acceptable and affordable).
I set up shop, hung the washing up, processed the photos (none of here yet, as it was raining too heavily outside) and wrote this blog up and then posted it and photos (I hope) and checked email.
Some items I forgot from yesterday:
As I left Innsbruck yesterday and drove across the Inn, I saw a walking school bus. I don’t know where the idea came from, but it was successful there, with all seats full.
As I drove along beside a river (and there are many of them in Europe, all with water in them and as such, a strange sight for me) I saw a barge with a car on it. The owner/operators live on the barges and it is common to see the washing hanging out, and in older times, horses on there to be used as transport when the barge was tied up. I suppose they have just moved with the times, as evidenced also by satellite dishes on the barges. In some cases they were pushing containers but some were complete with holds.
As I booked into the hotel at Zell, four cyclists also booked in. As I said before, cycling here is not for the rugged, but more for those who want to show how it should be done, without lycra and gritted teeth, but with panache, loose clothing and comfort in cuisine and accommodation.
I had shut the shutters, so had to rely on the mobile to wake me. It did, I arose and found that although the shower looked perfect, the hard water had clogged some of the nozzles so there was a very powerful spray but only from three holes, and consequently very harsh. Also, the shower curtain didn’t sit on the walls, and so despite my best efforts, the floor was awash by the time I got out. I had wondered why there was no bathmat, and my question was answered! I managed to dry off, dress and be down for breakfast.
Breakfast was the buffet style I have come to expect from German/Austrian commercial accommodation – bread rolls in abundance, sliced ham and other meats, sliced cheese in at least two varieties, fresh fruit, orange juice, butter, a variety of spreads and a form of sausage unique to the area. While some may criticise it, you never leave feeling empty (or if you do, you only have yourself to blame). I had ham and cheese rolls (with vegemite of course) and expected at any moment to be outwitted by a police dog and lose the ham rolls.
A couple came down and although they professed not to speak much English, I soon found out that they were from Munich, the wife was on holidays, they had taken the train north and were cycling down the Main River. If the weather remained fine, they would cycle all the way to Munich – if not, they would catch the train back from where they finished. A very civilised way to experience the countryside.
I settled my account, packed the car, photographed the bar and breakfast buffet, then headed off. I was on the main road by 8:45 and out of the Wurzburg environs before 9. I set course to the Tourist Bureau in Copenhagen, but found that if I avoided the Autobahns, then it was going to take me around twelve hours, so I decided on a compromise. I would travel the byways if all was clear and well and the Autobahns if the weather was inclement. I would see where I was in the middle of the afternoon and reassess.
As I travelled the byways, some things were clear. German drivers, like other Europeans, really cut corners. Very few bends on winding roads had the centre line visible – it disappeared for about fifty metres either side of the bend. I made sure I was well over my side of my lane, but still there were many instances where I saw the car coming towards me and almost jumping back into its lane (and often not making it, so I was glad I was as far over as I could be).
Very few rest stops had toilets of any form, and in the villages I passed through, I never saw any signs of any (but that may be because I am unsure of what to look for, a problem I cleared up in France).
Driving along roads in forested areas, it was obvious which suffered from ice by the grit boxes liberally sprinkled along some roads and totally absent from others. The grit is spread on the road to allow vehicles to gain traction in icy conditions, much easier on car bodies than the habit of salting roads in many places.
At the beginning of each village is the village name in a sign, which also serves as the restriction (to fifty kilometres per hour unless otherwise signed). At the end is another sign with a diagonal red slash to indicate the end of the restriction (and up to one hundred kilometres per hour, again unless otherwise signed), but in Germany there is also the name of the next town and usually the distance to it. This is very handy if you think you may want to overtake the vehicle in front (don’t if the distance is only one kilometre) or if you want to look for shops or other facilities.
The characteristics of certain classes of car drivers is also interesting. Top-down cars are either speed demons or totally relaxed and at ease with the world. It’s fun trying to pick which is which if you are next to them at traffic lights and then head off onto a rural road. However, Smart cars are misnamed if their drivers are taken into account. Braking after the stop line, sitting right in the middle of the road (not their lane) and trying to keep up with traffic on open-speed-limited Autobahns show the drivers are not as smart as the cars. However, in narrow old city streets and on country lanes, they are brilliant – if driven correctly.
The weather closed and drizzle started, so I set off onto the Autobahns. The weather cleared slightly, so I can answer the question some of you may have been wondering about. The little Renault Clio will top 180 km/hr, but lacks any grunt over 160. But at 180, being a light car, it is wind buffeted terribly by trucks when overtaking them, and, let’s just say that it doesn’t have a good grip on the road. I would back even the Barina (or Opel Corsa 1.4, if you’re European) for better roadholding, and the top speed is about the same, even though the torque for passing is less. 130 is the Renault Clio’s practical limit, unless you play a CD of “Nearer my God to Thee” and want it to come true.
After an hour of so, I changed my destination to the Tourist Bureau in Hamburg. I still kept on with the fastest way, as I realised it is Saturday and so things may shut early and people may be out. But a sudden “ping!” in my ear as I was overtaking in rain made me hesitate until I realised it was just the car saying I had used fifty-five litres of diesel and had better think about refuelling. This is one of the criticisms of the car I have which would stop me form ever getting one, despite its frugal use of fuel and great city and open-road performance up to 130. A few other criticisms include: thick roof pillars which limit visibility diagonally in both forward directions (so you have to move your head forward and scan in both directions at intersections, otherwise you will get caught out), no visibility over the driver’s left shoulder (what isn’t hidden by the pillar is hidden by the headrest), the cruise control switch hidden but the on/off and up/down settings on the wheel and impossible to locate when turning a bend or corner and, of course, those accursed mirrors which are TOTALLY useless. I had a discussion with a motoring writer who said you can adapt to them after consistent use – HE’S WRONG! The different views in the rear vision mirrors and only the centre one being consistent with reality means every glance has to be reassessed. I have learned to live with them by ignoring them, and so have moved back to before 1959, when cars didn’t have outside rear vision mirrors.
I pulled over to refuel (and found I had accidentally found the most expensive diesel in Germany, but had no choice as I didn’t want it to run empty and I have no real idea of the tank capacity) and decided to refill tummy as well. At a Burger King I found units of the German Army living off the land and walking back to their vehicles with the small crowns. I wonder if the German taxpayers know how their army personnel eat and take their lives seriously! When I went to go to the toilet, I found a turnstile and cash slot – yet I’m a paying customer. This is poor PR on the part of the Autobahn administration to let this happen.
When I left there, it was raining quite heavily, so I thought I would look for accommodation earlier. I set course for the nearest Tourist Bureau, on the grounds that if it was rural they would probably have information posted outside on B&Bs, even if they were closed – and besides, the little Renault did not fill me with confidence if I had to brake heavily on the autobahn in the wet!
I found myself skirting an army area. Signs on the road included “Give way to tanks.” Now even if I’m driving a fourteen tonne prime mover, I’m going to give way to a fifty tonne tank, no matter what a sign says. Driving a car of about a tonne means the tank will win every time, with its driver hardly noticing the pile of scrap metal on the road.
I found I was heading towards Hermannsburg, a twist as when in the Northern Territory, they had all gone on holiday as the same time as we had. I hoped this wasn’t going to be the same.
One ironic twist of travelling under the guidance of the SatNav is that, unless you study the route directions beforehand (which you can’t if you program it while driving), you know exactly where you are going, with total confidence, but you have no idea of where you are. It was with a measure of sadness that the town name of Belsen popped up in front of me. I was interested, but saddened, feeling for what happened but realising that all those Germans who I meet weren’t even born then.
I arrived in Hermannsburg and found the Tourist Bureau (closed), but with a list of accommodation houses outside.
I found one, a small hotel (which I reasoned would be more likely to have someone on duty than a Zimmer was to have someone at home, in the middle of a Saturday afternoon (4:30)), and it also advertised Internet. I found it, after a Cook’s tour through the back streets, and yes, there was someone there, yes, there was room, and yes, they did have Internet access. I forgot to ask about a Laundromat, so did the unthinkable and washed out underwear and will wear my T-shirts if I can’t find a laundromat tomorrow. I also found out that the Internet is a pay-for-use, but even with the (excessive) charge, the night with breakfast will still set me back less than €40, which is my standard at the moment (then the day, with food, costs me less than €50, and the car fuel costs me about €30 – all up, about A$140 per day, which is acceptable and affordable).
I set up shop, hung the washing up, processed the photos (none of here yet, as it was raining too heavily outside) and wrote this blog up and then posted it and photos (I hope) and checked email.
Friday, May 16, 2008
16 May
Today started with me reluctantly getting up at about 6:30 so I would be ready for breakfast at 7. I had my shower and dressed, then headed down and was there just as the door opened. There were two others there, but I think they only spoke German.
A few minutes later two couples, one from Massachusetts and one from Pennsylvania. Among the things I found out was that Florida and some other states in the US now require tiles on roofs instead of shingles, because tiles resist hurricanes and fires better than shingles.
Then I struck up conversation with a chap from Aberdeen, Scotland. He was here, visiting friends in Innsbruck. Sometimes he stayed with them and other time he stayed here, as Pension Paula. It seems this place gets a lot of repeat custom, and with reasonable prices, good breakfast, comfortable beds, being within easy walking distance of the centre of Innsbruck and close to public transport, and (for me) having Internet access available and included makes it a logical choice.
He does walking and train holidays, and has been to Australia but not done the train trips there. He has been through most of Europe by train and books through a company in England who can usually meet or better the prices he can get by various means.
After breakfast I packed up (very carefully) and then, after settling the account, left. Again I went through the main part of Innsbruck to leave heading north on the road to Munich, although I had programmed Hamburg as my final destination. That was to ensure I kept heading the right way and didn’t get distracted.
I had a very good run along the Innsbruck – Munich road, although it had been raining overnight and a lot of the road was still wet. The commercial traffic made things slow, as it was difficult to overtake due to the density of the traffic. I did some overtaking I would never even dream of doing in Australia.
I stopped to take some pictures along the way, including the huts on the mountain meadows. The day being overcast, there wasn’t a lot of glare from the sun, but a lot of peaks were shrouded in mist. North from Munich I saw many typical German villages, with white or light buildings and red or brown roofs, churches which looked very different from those in France, Italy, Spain and even Austria and a different appearance to the villages when driving through. Please note that you are only allowed to use the footpaths if you are a woman in a skirt walking a small girl. One village I stopped in for a stretch looked to have a population composed either of nuns or brewery workers.
North of Munich I stopped to get lunch, but was back on the road soon. I wanted to fill up, but of course in Germany the cost of fuel (both diesel and petrol) was about €1,50, dramatically more than Austria. I may be able to last to Denmark, but the price there may be higher.
I arrived in Wurzburg, at the “top” of Bavaria about 4 and thought it would be a good idea to book in somewhere. If I found one early enough, I could look for a Laundromat and do my washing (I can only last another two days). I zeroed in on the Tourist Bureau, parked the car, took the SatNav with me to walk there, and couldn’t find it, only to realise after looking at a map of the town that I had been standing in front of it and looking in every OTHER direction. Once in, I found a very helpful girl who spoke English and she able to provide me with a list of hotels and B&Bs. I quickly noted that they listed Internet access AND wireless access, so decided to try the wireless access and reasonable priced ones.
The first two I tried, there was no-one at home. I didn’t ring because this time I have no command of German and fewer than I thought actually speak English. I did see a police dog in action, with its handler walking it, a plainclothes detective with her and a uniformed officer behind. I didn’t get to see where it went, as the traffic lights (which have incredibly long cycles, even longer than Adelaide) changed.
I thought I had success with a hotel, only to find there are about five places with the same address in Wurzburg and that I had the wrong one. I eventually found it, a charming little hotel in Zell, about ten minutes from the centre of Wurzburg (but twenty for me, as a traffic accident happened just on the road a few hundred metres in front of me and hardly anything moved until the police came along). I enquired, yes, they did have room for one, €33 for B&B and wireless Internet access. I booked in, had a local beer while I was waiting (I’m not going to drive for another fourteen hours), then took everything up and got on the Internet. I checked my mail, then went out for a little walk including the cycle path, the local supermarket (prices reasonable, but higher than I would pay at home, allowing for an exchange rate of about A$175 = €100. I got some low sugar orange juice, put that in the car and then did my daily chores, processing photos, doing my blog and uploading everything.
That’s all finished at 8:30, so I’ll do some other things and then be off to sleep by about 10.
A few minutes later two couples, one from Massachusetts and one from Pennsylvania. Among the things I found out was that Florida and some other states in the US now require tiles on roofs instead of shingles, because tiles resist hurricanes and fires better than shingles.
Then I struck up conversation with a chap from Aberdeen, Scotland. He was here, visiting friends in Innsbruck. Sometimes he stayed with them and other time he stayed here, as Pension Paula. It seems this place gets a lot of repeat custom, and with reasonable prices, good breakfast, comfortable beds, being within easy walking distance of the centre of Innsbruck and close to public transport, and (for me) having Internet access available and included makes it a logical choice.
He does walking and train holidays, and has been to Australia but not done the train trips there. He has been through most of Europe by train and books through a company in England who can usually meet or better the prices he can get by various means.
After breakfast I packed up (very carefully) and then, after settling the account, left. Again I went through the main part of Innsbruck to leave heading north on the road to Munich, although I had programmed Hamburg as my final destination. That was to ensure I kept heading the right way and didn’t get distracted.
I had a very good run along the Innsbruck – Munich road, although it had been raining overnight and a lot of the road was still wet. The commercial traffic made things slow, as it was difficult to overtake due to the density of the traffic. I did some overtaking I would never even dream of doing in Australia.
I stopped to take some pictures along the way, including the huts on the mountain meadows. The day being overcast, there wasn’t a lot of glare from the sun, but a lot of peaks were shrouded in mist. North from Munich I saw many typical German villages, with white or light buildings and red or brown roofs, churches which looked very different from those in France, Italy, Spain and even Austria and a different appearance to the villages when driving through. Please note that you are only allowed to use the footpaths if you are a woman in a skirt walking a small girl. One village I stopped in for a stretch looked to have a population composed either of nuns or brewery workers.
North of Munich I stopped to get lunch, but was back on the road soon. I wanted to fill up, but of course in Germany the cost of fuel (both diesel and petrol) was about €1,50, dramatically more than Austria. I may be able to last to Denmark, but the price there may be higher.
I arrived in Wurzburg, at the “top” of Bavaria about 4 and thought it would be a good idea to book in somewhere. If I found one early enough, I could look for a Laundromat and do my washing (I can only last another two days). I zeroed in on the Tourist Bureau, parked the car, took the SatNav with me to walk there, and couldn’t find it, only to realise after looking at a map of the town that I had been standing in front of it and looking in every OTHER direction. Once in, I found a very helpful girl who spoke English and she able to provide me with a list of hotels and B&Bs. I quickly noted that they listed Internet access AND wireless access, so decided to try the wireless access and reasonable priced ones.
The first two I tried, there was no-one at home. I didn’t ring because this time I have no command of German and fewer than I thought actually speak English. I did see a police dog in action, with its handler walking it, a plainclothes detective with her and a uniformed officer behind. I didn’t get to see where it went, as the traffic lights (which have incredibly long cycles, even longer than Adelaide) changed.
I thought I had success with a hotel, only to find there are about five places with the same address in Wurzburg and that I had the wrong one. I eventually found it, a charming little hotel in Zell, about ten minutes from the centre of Wurzburg (but twenty for me, as a traffic accident happened just on the road a few hundred metres in front of me and hardly anything moved until the police came along). I enquired, yes, they did have room for one, €33 for B&B and wireless Internet access. I booked in, had a local beer while I was waiting (I’m not going to drive for another fourteen hours), then took everything up and got on the Internet. I checked my mail, then went out for a little walk including the cycle path, the local supermarket (prices reasonable, but higher than I would pay at home, allowing for an exchange rate of about A$175 = €100. I got some low sugar orange juice, put that in the car and then did my daily chores, processing photos, doing my blog and uploading everything.
That’s all finished at 8:30, so I’ll do some other things and then be off to sleep by about 10.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
15 May
Today I awoke well and truly before the alarm, with gentle sunlight and the six o’clock church bells ringing. By 7 I got up and was ready by 7:30 and nabbed by mine hostess who wondered whether I was ready to have breakfast. I headed down to find my place already set and a lady (who had arrived yesterday looking a little hot and bothered, dragging a suitcase) halfway through her breakfast.
My tea arrived and I started, and chatted to the lady at the same time. She was German, here on her own, going along the Danube by public transport (they are Post Busses, though I am unsure as to whether they actually carry the post , as in other countries). She had an extensive career in travel, travelling across Russia and China over twenty years ago with her husband, then travelling to many parts of Asia, as well as cycling through most of Europe (mainly tent accommodation). Now, with children, they often travel by rail but extensive travel is on hold while the children grow up (11 and 14). She had not been to Australia, but knew it was large.
She headed off her way and I went mine, packing and then saying goodbye, and heading off for a leisurely trip back to Innsbruck. I set the SatNav to take me to Salzburg, so I could have a look at it and also say I had been there. The run down to Salzburg was partly along the Danube and partly through forest and alps. Unfortunately, as has happened so many times, the best views were fleeting glimpses which I could not take both because I was driving and because I was unable to find somewhere to stop. Although Austrian roads are generally far wider and better than French or Italian roads, they still don’t have many parking places, especially at scenic lookouts. Even the good parking places are shrouded in trees, which makes for a great spot to halt on a sunny summer day, but a lousy place to take photos.
When I got to Salzburg, it struck me like so many of the other Austrian cities – neat, clean, well-tended. It was also fairly modern, with a good road system that whisked me through quickly, with only minor inconvenience to pedestrians and those drivers in a hurry.
Once on the road from Salzburg I determined that I would find spots to get typical photographs. I did at a number of places, but one photo I wanted, of the huts on the alpine meadows, eluded me because I didn’t see any this trip. I will go north via Munich to make sure I get some tomorrow. The thing that amazes me is how the sight of snow-covered mountains peeking through each gap in the tree-covered mountains is taken my natives without a second glance. Despite having now had a few days here, it still makes me stop each time I see it.
As I drew closer to Innsbruck I got a little hungry. I saw an Mpress supermarket and know they have a fresh bread kitchen attached to them so got a muffin and baguette. At this stage I really have to say NO-ONE makes baguettes like the French. The baguette I got was so much like a bread roll from a Vietnamese bakery that I started to peer around for the Vietnamese baker. As I left, the scenery got to me again, as did the fact that like in any country town, someone was stopped in the road having a chat to a driver. Everyone just went around – no tooting or yelling, just drive around as it may be you doing it tomorrow.
Later I saw a McDonald’s. Purely in the interest of research I went in to see if they had Internet. No, but they did have a €1 menu, so I had a hamburger and shake. They also had a London bus as the children’s party area – I couldn’t believe it, to quote Victor Meldrew, so I had to get a picture.
Then I headed into Innsbruck. Because I was coming from the north, I came across Paula’s Pension, where I’m staying, before hitting the city.
I pulled in and found Wolfgang’s mother on duty – she had my toiletries container and the key to the room, so up I went. I then uploaded blogs and photos, for the last three days.
You may wonder why I went back a day and a few hundred kilometres for something which I could have replaced for about €5 here or about $3 back home. The main reason is that it’s the same case which mum used while she was in care and away on holidays with Fran while she had Alzheimers and then cancer. Its sentimental value is far greater than its intrinsic value.
I’m not sure if I put it in before, but:
Italian farmers – small to medium tractors. Austrian and German farmers – medium to large tractors. French farmers – huge to enormous tractors.
I’ve also quickly become adept at looking for the best place for shopping – the different supermarkets have different advantages/disadvantages. With some they are very cheap, but it’s all generic brands. With some, it’s branded lines, but not always that cheap. With some you can’t buy fruit individually, so that’s difficult for travelling with one. The smaller ones have the advantage that every store has identical layout, so you don’t waste time finding anything.
Religious paraphernalia – after seeing Italian drivers, I know why they have religious symbols hanging from mirrors, etc. It’s because they expect to meet God nearly every moment they are driving.
Now, getting on to 8, I’m going to go to bed to relax, if not to sleep yet, as the car seat is proving its one and half hour comfortableness yet again, especially after many hours non-stop in it.
Memo to self: pull up and get out every hour, so back does not get sore.
Memo to self: check room carefully tomorrow so I don’t visit Innsbruck a third time.
Reflection: Innsbruck in particular, but Austria in general, would be a good place to live. Not crowded, reasonable in price, clean, varied climate. But the winter …
Discussing with the German lady this morning, she thought Austria was expensive. My quick observation of Germany was it is more expensive. I’m basing that on fuel (diesel up to €0,20 a litre dearer) and supermarkets (goods seemed to be more highly priced). I suppose that as a tourist, costs are always greater than as a resident, when you can take the time to find the cheapest places and items and accommodation isn’t a factor.
Good things …
Every so often, things happen correctly.
I had thought I had lost the CD case I use for carrying the SatNav when I’m not in a car. It holds the unit, the cord (both of which are obviously in use) and the spare cards for the SatNav (just in case the card in it proves faulty due to poor design, temperature changes or physical damage). Getting a map last night, I found it under the passenger seat, yet I had looked there before. I hold out hope for the electronic translator when I empty the car and return it on the afternoon of 1 June.
I had to purchase a charger for the mobile phone because the cords I had weren’t working (I have a USB to Nokia adaptor, plus an adaptor to the smaller socket in the 6100). I tried them again today and … they worked! Now I can charge my mobile from the computer again, important in Japan where I won’t be in a car. Otherwise I was just going to leave it switched off unless I needed to make a call. I use it so much as an alarm that I really do need it.
I got my toiletries case back today.
Now if everything else can go as well – accommodation tomorrow night, laundrette tomorrow or the following night, …
Driving test
A speed limit is
a) an insult to my manhood, and of no significance to me.
b) a guide to novice drivers and visitors.
c) to be obeyed.
A turn indicator is
a) something I put on when on an Autostrade because I’m going to overtake everyone.
b) something I put on to overtake, but rarely turn off.
c) something I put on to overtake and turn off once I have overtaken.
A brake pedal is
a) used if the right foot is not on the accelerator.
b) used at the last moment when about to hit another vehicle.
c) used to either dramatically slow or to stop the vehicle.
An accelerator
a) is used flat to the floor or not at all.
b) is used for as long as possible.
c) is used to control the speed of the vehicle.
The left hand lane
a) is for my use.
b) is for use by me when I want it.
c) is used to overtake and then vacated.
A safety cushion is
a) when a cushion will fit between me and the car in front.
b) about a metre or so.
c) about a metre for every five kilometres per hour of the speed I am travelling at.
The rear vision mirror is
a) for checking women drivers in the cars I am passing.
b) for looking at my face.
c) for checking if vehicles are behind me.
Parking means
a) fitting the car into a space.
b) putting the car out of the traffic lane.
c) placing the car into a parking place, next to the kerb and with space for other vehicles to manoeuvre.
I got my licence from
a) the bottom of a Weeties packet.
b) a bribed official.
c) a driving test, which I passed on the road and in theory.
Now if you got all a’s – you get an
Now if you got all b’s – you get a
Now if you got all c’s – you get an Australian driving licence.
My tea arrived and I started, and chatted to the lady at the same time. She was German, here on her own, going along the Danube by public transport (they are Post Busses, though I am unsure as to whether they actually carry the post , as in other countries). She had an extensive career in travel, travelling across Russia and China over twenty years ago with her husband, then travelling to many parts of Asia, as well as cycling through most of Europe (mainly tent accommodation). Now, with children, they often travel by rail but extensive travel is on hold while the children grow up (11 and 14). She had not been to Australia, but knew it was large.
She headed off her way and I went mine, packing and then saying goodbye, and heading off for a leisurely trip back to Innsbruck. I set the SatNav to take me to Salzburg, so I could have a look at it and also say I had been there. The run down to Salzburg was partly along the Danube and partly through forest and alps. Unfortunately, as has happened so many times, the best views were fleeting glimpses which I could not take both because I was driving and because I was unable to find somewhere to stop. Although Austrian roads are generally far wider and better than French or Italian roads, they still don’t have many parking places, especially at scenic lookouts. Even the good parking places are shrouded in trees, which makes for a great spot to halt on a sunny summer day, but a lousy place to take photos.
When I got to Salzburg, it struck me like so many of the other Austrian cities – neat, clean, well-tended. It was also fairly modern, with a good road system that whisked me through quickly, with only minor inconvenience to pedestrians and those drivers in a hurry.
Once on the road from Salzburg I determined that I would find spots to get typical photographs. I did at a number of places, but one photo I wanted, of the huts on the alpine meadows, eluded me because I didn’t see any this trip. I will go north via Munich to make sure I get some tomorrow. The thing that amazes me is how the sight of snow-covered mountains peeking through each gap in the tree-covered mountains is taken my natives without a second glance. Despite having now had a few days here, it still makes me stop each time I see it.
As I drew closer to Innsbruck I got a little hungry. I saw an Mpress supermarket and know they have a fresh bread kitchen attached to them so got a muffin and baguette. At this stage I really have to say NO-ONE makes baguettes like the French. The baguette I got was so much like a bread roll from a Vietnamese bakery that I started to peer around for the Vietnamese baker. As I left, the scenery got to me again, as did the fact that like in any country town, someone was stopped in the road having a chat to a driver. Everyone just went around – no tooting or yelling, just drive around as it may be you doing it tomorrow.
Later I saw a McDonald’s. Purely in the interest of research I went in to see if they had Internet. No, but they did have a €1 menu, so I had a hamburger and shake. They also had a London bus as the children’s party area – I couldn’t believe it, to quote Victor Meldrew, so I had to get a picture.
Then I headed into Innsbruck. Because I was coming from the north, I came across Paula’s Pension, where I’m staying, before hitting the city.
I pulled in and found Wolfgang’s mother on duty – she had my toiletries container and the key to the room, so up I went. I then uploaded blogs and photos, for the last three days.
You may wonder why I went back a day and a few hundred kilometres for something which I could have replaced for about €5 here or about $3 back home. The main reason is that it’s the same case which mum used while she was in care and away on holidays with Fran while she had Alzheimers and then cancer. Its sentimental value is far greater than its intrinsic value.
I’m not sure if I put it in before, but:
Italian farmers – small to medium tractors. Austrian and German farmers – medium to large tractors. French farmers – huge to enormous tractors.
I’ve also quickly become adept at looking for the best place for shopping – the different supermarkets have different advantages/disadvantages. With some they are very cheap, but it’s all generic brands. With some, it’s branded lines, but not always that cheap. With some you can’t buy fruit individually, so that’s difficult for travelling with one. The smaller ones have the advantage that every store has identical layout, so you don’t waste time finding anything.
Religious paraphernalia – after seeing Italian drivers, I know why they have religious symbols hanging from mirrors, etc. It’s because they expect to meet God nearly every moment they are driving.
Now, getting on to 8, I’m going to go to bed to relax, if not to sleep yet, as the car seat is proving its one and half hour comfortableness yet again, especially after many hours non-stop in it.
Memo to self: pull up and get out every hour, so back does not get sore.
Memo to self: check room carefully tomorrow so I don’t visit Innsbruck a third time.
Reflection: Innsbruck in particular, but Austria in general, would be a good place to live. Not crowded, reasonable in price, clean, varied climate. But the winter …
Discussing with the German lady this morning, she thought Austria was expensive. My quick observation of Germany was it is more expensive. I’m basing that on fuel (diesel up to €0,20 a litre dearer) and supermarkets (goods seemed to be more highly priced). I suppose that as a tourist, costs are always greater than as a resident, when you can take the time to find the cheapest places and items and accommodation isn’t a factor.
Good things …
Every so often, things happen correctly.
I had thought I had lost the CD case I use for carrying the SatNav when I’m not in a car. It holds the unit, the cord (both of which are obviously in use) and the spare cards for the SatNav (just in case the card in it proves faulty due to poor design, temperature changes or physical damage). Getting a map last night, I found it under the passenger seat, yet I had looked there before. I hold out hope for the electronic translator when I empty the car and return it on the afternoon of 1 June.
I had to purchase a charger for the mobile phone because the cords I had weren’t working (I have a USB to Nokia adaptor, plus an adaptor to the smaller socket in the 6100). I tried them again today and … they worked! Now I can charge my mobile from the computer again, important in Japan where I won’t be in a car. Otherwise I was just going to leave it switched off unless I needed to make a call. I use it so much as an alarm that I really do need it.
I got my toiletries case back today.
Now if everything else can go as well – accommodation tomorrow night, laundrette tomorrow or the following night, …
Driving test
A speed limit is
a) an insult to my manhood, and of no significance to me.
b) a guide to novice drivers and visitors.
c) to be obeyed.
A turn indicator is
a) something I put on when on an Autostrade because I’m going to overtake everyone.
b) something I put on to overtake, but rarely turn off.
c) something I put on to overtake and turn off once I have overtaken.
A brake pedal is
a) used if the right foot is not on the accelerator.
b) used at the last moment when about to hit another vehicle.
c) used to either dramatically slow or to stop the vehicle.
An accelerator
a) is used flat to the floor or not at all.
b) is used for as long as possible.
c) is used to control the speed of the vehicle.
The left hand lane
a) is for my use.
b) is for use by me when I want it.
c) is used to overtake and then vacated.
A safety cushion is
a) when a cushion will fit between me and the car in front.
b) about a metre or so.
c) about a metre for every five kilometres per hour of the speed I am travelling at.
The rear vision mirror is
a) for checking women drivers in the cars I am passing.
b) for looking at my face.
c) for checking if vehicles are behind me.
Parking means
a) fitting the car into a space.
b) putting the car out of the traffic lane.
c) placing the car into a parking place, next to the kerb and with space for other vehicles to manoeuvre.
I got my licence from
a) the bottom of a Weeties packet.
b) a bribed official.
c) a driving test, which I passed on the road and in theory.
Now if you got all a’s – you get an
Now if you got all b’s – you get a
Now if you got all c’s – you get an Australian driving licence.
14 May
Today I woke just before the alarm, but I had taken something for my hayfever, so that explains that. I was quickly up and prepared, then down for breakfast at 8. There was an Austrian mother and daughter there, and they said hello, but conversation flagged as they didn’t speak English. There were little bits when mine hostess came in, and it was interesting seeing her speak German to them and English to me.
I settled up before I left the table, then finished packing up, went down to the car and packed the car. I took some apple juice in the cabin with me and then set off. I programmed the SatNav to take me to Munich by routes other than motorways, so came along the same route (with a few different turns) as I had two days before, but in the opposite direction.
I stopped in surprise in a small town where I was zapped by a radar gun with the youngest operator I have ever seen – perhaps about 8. I couldn’t resist getting a picture of him and his classmates (though I didn’t get the eight or so kids who were having fun exploring the police car). I wonder if it is a program like was at Wycheproof, where a policeman visits a school, explains what he does and the children can come and see him work occasionally. It builds up trust between the children and the police, so they know they can always go to a policeman when there is trouble.
As I travelled up the Danube (towards its source), I stopped at different places to take photos. What amazed me was the number of cyclists. Most of them were cycling down the Danube (downhill all the way). However, don’t think these were the dedicated, grit the teeth and bear all type. No, these stopped at morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea and a few times in between at little (and big) cafés along the way. There is a whole industry catering to these – but only from late spring to early autumn.
By about 1, I started looking for a place to stay. The first was booked out but then I stopped in a small town (Engelhartzell) which had advertisements for a number of places. I selected one because the direction sign appealed to me and arrived there, three hundred metres out of the town, a few moments later. The husband was mowing the lawn (no English, but Zimmer, bed and breakfast, and tonight) got him to indicate to me were to go and then his wife came out, speaking enough English that we could communicate. Yes, there was room, yes, breakfast was included, the cost was €25 for the night and here was the room. I agreed and put my backpack in the room (though I notice in an advert at a Shell station, they call them rucksacks here).
I then drove down to town, had a walk around, had an ice cream , watched the bike ferry take bikes across, watched the river ferries pass or put in and just generally had a slow look around. Then I went back to where I was staying, unpacked the rest, processed the photos, wrote this blog up (although I’ll add to it later, most likely) and watched the river traffic out the bedroom window.
I also got shown where the kitchen is, and the drinks fridge, but I’m a little too tired for that. Apparently there are a couple from Swaziland also staying here.
I burned some DVDs to back up more of my photos and burned a current small picture one. I gave this to mine hostess, who immediately took me into their kitchen and showed me their DVD player, and after two minutes, I had the DVD playing. Then she got her husband in and he liked the pictures of Australia, ad recognised Uluru.
I went back to my room, did a little more record-keeping and then went to sleep.
I settled up before I left the table, then finished packing up, went down to the car and packed the car. I took some apple juice in the cabin with me and then set off. I programmed the SatNav to take me to Munich by routes other than motorways, so came along the same route (with a few different turns) as I had two days before, but in the opposite direction.
I stopped in surprise in a small town where I was zapped by a radar gun with the youngest operator I have ever seen – perhaps about 8. I couldn’t resist getting a picture of him and his classmates (though I didn’t get the eight or so kids who were having fun exploring the police car). I wonder if it is a program like was at Wycheproof, where a policeman visits a school, explains what he does and the children can come and see him work occasionally. It builds up trust between the children and the police, so they know they can always go to a policeman when there is trouble.
As I travelled up the Danube (towards its source), I stopped at different places to take photos. What amazed me was the number of cyclists. Most of them were cycling down the Danube (downhill all the way). However, don’t think these were the dedicated, grit the teeth and bear all type. No, these stopped at morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea and a few times in between at little (and big) cafés along the way. There is a whole industry catering to these – but only from late spring to early autumn.
By about 1, I started looking for a place to stay. The first was booked out but then I stopped in a small town (Engelhartzell) which had advertisements for a number of places. I selected one because the direction sign appealed to me and arrived there, three hundred metres out of the town, a few moments later. The husband was mowing the lawn (no English, but Zimmer, bed and breakfast, and tonight) got him to indicate to me were to go and then his wife came out, speaking enough English that we could communicate. Yes, there was room, yes, breakfast was included, the cost was €25 for the night and here was the room. I agreed and put my backpack in the room (though I notice in an advert at a Shell station, they call them rucksacks here).
I then drove down to town, had a walk around, had an ice cream , watched the bike ferry take bikes across, watched the river ferries pass or put in and just generally had a slow look around. Then I went back to where I was staying, unpacked the rest, processed the photos, wrote this blog up (although I’ll add to it later, most likely) and watched the river traffic out the bedroom window.
I also got shown where the kitchen is, and the drinks fridge, but I’m a little too tired for that. Apparently there are a couple from Swaziland also staying here.
I burned some DVDs to back up more of my photos and burned a current small picture one. I gave this to mine hostess, who immediately took me into their kitchen and showed me their DVD player, and after two minutes, I had the DVD playing. Then she got her husband in and he liked the pictures of Australia, ad recognised Uluru.
I went back to my room, did a little more record-keeping and then went to sleep.
13 May
Today in many ways was a very interesting day.
It started out okay, with a good breakfast of ham rolls, thus getting me in the Vienna/Inspector Rex mood. I then packed, as Barbara was booked out for tonight but her sister-in-law wasn’t. I went down to the sister-in-law’s place just to check and introduce myself, did that and then headed into the Tourist Centre in Vienna. I had already determined that yesterday was a holiday, so there was real work traffic today.
I finally found the Tourist Centre and went in and asked about tourist information and parking. In common with southern Italy, you have to purchase your tickets elsewhere and then scratch (or punch) them and place them on your dash. Mind you, in Vienna, the zones are only marked at the beginning and end, so if you drive in the middle of one, unless you are a native, you don’t know you are in one. I found out the safe way to park and travel, by staying at a park’n’ride area, which at €3 for a day is quite cheap by European standards. An all-day rail pass was only €5,90, so I got one of those too.
I set out on the underground (all the stations have a large U in front of them), except it was above ground. I got off in the middle of the old city, at the church, had a look around and found I was about a hundred metres away from where I was last night. I had a look at the church and the area immediately around there, had lunch (helped a Canadian couple and had a chat with them about travel) and then set out on the city walk, but just to be different I did it in reverse (not really, but by the time I oriented myself with the map I had, I was already halfway between the last two places, so I kept going – and I was able to help a few others who were also having trouble orienting the maps they had with the city names (the plates have the full names, while the maps have only the surnames).
I walked along the path and saw some interesting things, apart from the sights listed. I got a picture of the gentleman with the hat walking a little girl, the bricks used, and a picture of a girl with a bear behind – she didn’t realise!
After I finished the tour, it was too little time to do a museum crawl but too much time to do nothing, so I caught the underground to the Prater and went on the large Ferris Wheel (famous, apart from Inspector Rex, through Harry Lime and “The Third Man”). That was interesting because finally I could orient myself and also see the extent of the city (and just how much open space there was). It also made me understand how people can sunbathe in the parks in the middle of the city once there is sun (make the most of it, because it’s going to snow soon).
I went back to the car, extracted it and me from the car park and headed out to Gablitz. On the way I called into a shopping centre (boy, could they learn from the Lowey family) but couldn’t get what I was after. I went into a Lidl Supermarket and got some biscuits and chocolate (emergency supplies, so I don’t have to stop while travelling). I called into an Aldi Supermarket and was surprised to see Australian produce on sale at €0,89 a kilogram, but I couldn’t work out what it was (because they had all been sold, but the tag was still on the shelf).
I got to where I was staying and went in. The lady of the house was in, we settled the formal details and then I took my stuff up. I went down to ask about Zimmers (yes, B&Bs but also apartments) and registration plates, but we never got that far as the father and two daughters were in and we started talking about cars, licences, learners, road trains and travel. I tried to teach them some jokes and Australian slang, but I don’t think the children understood (dad did).
After that I did the usual photo processing and blog writing, but I also burned an up-to-date DVD for the family to look at on their computer. After that, despite having my own private balcony and room and time to put my feet up, I tossed up whether to go to bed early as walking all day had tired me out a little, as well as driving through Vienna peak-hour traffic (roughly the same as Perth’s, so I will have to compare populations).
I will be heading up the Danube tomorrow and find a place to stay somewhere between here and Munich and then back to Innsbruck on the day after (and I’ll post all the photos and blogs then too).
It started out okay, with a good breakfast of ham rolls, thus getting me in the Vienna/Inspector Rex mood. I then packed, as Barbara was booked out for tonight but her sister-in-law wasn’t. I went down to the sister-in-law’s place just to check and introduce myself, did that and then headed into the Tourist Centre in Vienna. I had already determined that yesterday was a holiday, so there was real work traffic today.
I finally found the Tourist Centre and went in and asked about tourist information and parking. In common with southern Italy, you have to purchase your tickets elsewhere and then scratch (or punch) them and place them on your dash. Mind you, in Vienna, the zones are only marked at the beginning and end, so if you drive in the middle of one, unless you are a native, you don’t know you are in one. I found out the safe way to park and travel, by staying at a park’n’ride area, which at €3 for a day is quite cheap by European standards. An all-day rail pass was only €5,90, so I got one of those too.
I set out on the underground (all the stations have a large U in front of them), except it was above ground. I got off in the middle of the old city, at the church, had a look around and found I was about a hundred metres away from where I was last night. I had a look at the church and the area immediately around there, had lunch (helped a Canadian couple and had a chat with them about travel) and then set out on the city walk, but just to be different I did it in reverse (not really, but by the time I oriented myself with the map I had, I was already halfway between the last two places, so I kept going – and I was able to help a few others who were also having trouble orienting the maps they had with the city names (the plates have the full names, while the maps have only the surnames).
I walked along the path and saw some interesting things, apart from the sights listed. I got a picture of the gentleman with the hat walking a little girl, the bricks used, and a picture of a girl with a bear behind – she didn’t realise!
After I finished the tour, it was too little time to do a museum crawl but too much time to do nothing, so I caught the underground to the Prater and went on the large Ferris Wheel (famous, apart from Inspector Rex, through Harry Lime and “The Third Man”). That was interesting because finally I could orient myself and also see the extent of the city (and just how much open space there was). It also made me understand how people can sunbathe in the parks in the middle of the city once there is sun (make the most of it, because it’s going to snow soon).
I went back to the car, extracted it and me from the car park and headed out to Gablitz. On the way I called into a shopping centre (boy, could they learn from the Lowey family) but couldn’t get what I was after. I went into a Lidl Supermarket and got some biscuits and chocolate (emergency supplies, so I don’t have to stop while travelling). I called into an Aldi Supermarket and was surprised to see Australian produce on sale at €0,89 a kilogram, but I couldn’t work out what it was (because they had all been sold, but the tag was still on the shelf).
I got to where I was staying and went in. The lady of the house was in, we settled the formal details and then I took my stuff up. I went down to ask about Zimmers (yes, B&Bs but also apartments) and registration plates, but we never got that far as the father and two daughters were in and we started talking about cars, licences, learners, road trains and travel. I tried to teach them some jokes and Australian slang, but I don’t think the children understood (dad did).
After that I did the usual photo processing and blog writing, but I also burned an up-to-date DVD for the family to look at on their computer. After that, despite having my own private balcony and room and time to put my feet up, I tossed up whether to go to bed early as walking all day had tired me out a little, as well as driving through Vienna peak-hour traffic (roughly the same as Perth’s, so I will have to compare populations).
I will be heading up the Danube tomorrow and find a place to stay somewhere between here and Munich and then back to Innsbruck on the day after (and I’ll post all the photos and blogs then too).
12 May
Today started out okay, had a few ups and downs, then finished well.
I was prepared and down for breakfast on time. The Australian couple sat with me and we talked over breakfast. I showed them and the dancing girls the T-shirt I had bought. The Australian couple will be off to Vienna tomorrow, whereas I will be looking around Vienna tomorrow and heading out the day after. They left for their day and I spoke to a Hungarian couple next to me. The husband had been to Australia, attended at the Swinbourne Instutute for a time, then toured a lot of Australia bu car (a Land Cruiser, which was very big by his standards). We also spoke about how sometimes people are reluctant to talk to others when they don’t have a common language. Then they left, but as they did so, he gave me his card.
I finished packing (but not completely, as I found at much, much later), settled the account and left. I set the SatNav for Vienna by avoiding motorways. So I headed out of Innsbruck only to be turned around, as it calculated the wrong route originally. Then I had a most scenic journey through the Austrian Alps, which I can replicate if needed by proposing it as an itinerary when I am home. On some alpine meadows, there were small huts – I speculated on their purpose, to no avail
The land flattened out and I wondered how there was so much flat land in Austria only to find I was in Germany. The quickest route without using motorways was through Munich – which I quickly found myself in. Going around it was a revelation, as even though there was a lot of traffic, everything moved smoothly and the drivers were very ordered in their movements. Then it was onto an Autobahn for a time, although I had to get off to get diesel – but not again, if I can help it, as Austria is far cheaper than Germany for fuel.
I passed by a lot of farming land – with small villages, neatly arranged, and the new shopping centres, mainly supermarkets, on the outside of the villages. The farms were intensively managed, with no spare space. I noticed that the tractors were larger than in Italy, but smaller than France – and then noticed a small child, riding a plastic tractor, with his mother. They start them young in Germany!
I also noticed a wine (?) shop labelled “The Gastro Shop”, which sent me into paroxysms of laughter – as if I needed to be told!
Other roadsigns which I had noticed included:
- cautions for those walking – in Austria, they were gentlemen with hats and suit coats walking little girls, while those I aw in Germany were women walking little boys.
- schoolchildren crossing, which had large boys leading little girls, while in Austria they were a large boy holding a little girl back.
- the slippery when wet signs, which in Germany were the same as Australia.
- a lot of signs in Germany leading to a town called Ausfarht (it’s not funny if you know German or if you realise Australian farms are known to Japanese as HAZCHEMs).
My drive for part of the afternoon was along the Danube. It looked huge, and certainly high – until I saw it was locks keeping it up, and there wasn’t a huge flow. It was a new sight around each corner, with older fortified buildings up on high points and newer homes down by the riverside.
I was about two hours out of Vienna when I realised I most likely wouldn’t make it before the Information Centre closed, so I looked for one closer and headed to that – but it was closed. I think it must have been a holiday in Austria today as there was little traffic on the road but almost millions of cyclists and all the supermarkets and other shops were closed.
I headed back to where I had seen a small town with at least three advertised – success there, I thought. I headed to the first, only to find no-one home. It looked very nice. I headed to the second – that took a bit of finding, but a kindly group of locals led me there by car and – there was no-one home again! I then headed off to the third – surely one out of three must be home. But alas, no-one answered the outside knock and there was no-one inside, despite the dining room being open.
I contemplated my possible fate for the night – look for a hotel, sleep by the roadside or if things were truly desperate, look for a Formule1. As I walked out, a car pulled up. It was the lady who ran the first place I had called at. She could offer me one night. This one was run by her sister and she didn’t know how things were here. I agreed to take the one night and went back, parked, looked at the room, went to unpack and found – no toiletries! Those, dear reader, were very safely ensconced in Innsbruck, as I found out after a telephone call. I will traverse the country back, this time by toll road, as see a different view.
I then went into Vienna.
The first thing I saw was a woman who was identical to a Michelle S who I once taught – I almost beeped the horn to see if it was her. Then as I got closer into the centre of Vienna and wanted to park, I got caught up by a Pole who had parked in a no-standing zone and there wasn’t enough room for me to get between has car and the cannonballs (you may see them in the fountain photo if you look carefully). I had to back out and go down a few other streets to find a spot to park. The first thing I saw was … Crossfield’s Australian Pub. I couldn’t believe my eyes, that of all the places in Vienna I could have parked, I was just down the road from this.
I walked around a bit and down Vienna’s Music Mile – so you will see familiar names. I had tea at a cultural Burger King (Hungry Jack’s) and it was once a restaurant (so it has gone downhill since then). I didn’t even notice the ceiling until a young Canadian couple came in and photographed it.
I walked around a little more, then drove back to my lodgings for the night where mine hostess assured me she was check with her sister in the morning about a room for tomorrow night.
I then did my photos, wrote this up and finally retired.
My new plans are spend tomorrow in Vienna (if I can stay around here, about half an hour from the centre), return to Innsbruck on Wednesday, overnight there and spend the next night somewhere in southern Germany. Then it’s off to Denmark (or more correctly, Danmark).
Otherwise I’ll see it I can overnight in Innsbruck tomorrow night and play it by ear then.
I was prepared and down for breakfast on time. The Australian couple sat with me and we talked over breakfast. I showed them and the dancing girls the T-shirt I had bought. The Australian couple will be off to Vienna tomorrow, whereas I will be looking around Vienna tomorrow and heading out the day after. They left for their day and I spoke to a Hungarian couple next to me. The husband had been to Australia, attended at the Swinbourne Instutute for a time, then toured a lot of Australia bu car (a Land Cruiser, which was very big by his standards). We also spoke about how sometimes people are reluctant to talk to others when they don’t have a common language. Then they left, but as they did so, he gave me his card.
I finished packing (but not completely, as I found at much, much later), settled the account and left. I set the SatNav for Vienna by avoiding motorways. So I headed out of Innsbruck only to be turned around, as it calculated the wrong route originally. Then I had a most scenic journey through the Austrian Alps, which I can replicate if needed by proposing it as an itinerary when I am home. On some alpine meadows, there were small huts – I speculated on their purpose, to no avail
The land flattened out and I wondered how there was so much flat land in Austria only to find I was in Germany. The quickest route without using motorways was through Munich – which I quickly found myself in. Going around it was a revelation, as even though there was a lot of traffic, everything moved smoothly and the drivers were very ordered in their movements. Then it was onto an Autobahn for a time, although I had to get off to get diesel – but not again, if I can help it, as Austria is far cheaper than Germany for fuel.
I passed by a lot of farming land – with small villages, neatly arranged, and the new shopping centres, mainly supermarkets, on the outside of the villages. The farms were intensively managed, with no spare space. I noticed that the tractors were larger than in Italy, but smaller than France – and then noticed a small child, riding a plastic tractor, with his mother. They start them young in Germany!
I also noticed a wine (?) shop labelled “The Gastro Shop”, which sent me into paroxysms of laughter – as if I needed to be told!
Other roadsigns which I had noticed included:
- cautions for those walking – in Austria, they were gentlemen with hats and suit coats walking little girls, while those I aw in Germany were women walking little boys.
- schoolchildren crossing, which had large boys leading little girls, while in Austria they were a large boy holding a little girl back.
- the slippery when wet signs, which in Germany were the same as Australia.
- a lot of signs in Germany leading to a town called Ausfarht (it’s not funny if you know German or if you realise Australian farms are known to Japanese as HAZCHEMs).
My drive for part of the afternoon was along the Danube. It looked huge, and certainly high – until I saw it was locks keeping it up, and there wasn’t a huge flow. It was a new sight around each corner, with older fortified buildings up on high points and newer homes down by the riverside.
I was about two hours out of Vienna when I realised I most likely wouldn’t make it before the Information Centre closed, so I looked for one closer and headed to that – but it was closed. I think it must have been a holiday in Austria today as there was little traffic on the road but almost millions of cyclists and all the supermarkets and other shops were closed.
I headed back to where I had seen a small town with at least three advertised – success there, I thought. I headed to the first, only to find no-one home. It looked very nice. I headed to the second – that took a bit of finding, but a kindly group of locals led me there by car and – there was no-one home again! I then headed off to the third – surely one out of three must be home. But alas, no-one answered the outside knock and there was no-one inside, despite the dining room being open.
I contemplated my possible fate for the night – look for a hotel, sleep by the roadside or if things were truly desperate, look for a Formule1. As I walked out, a car pulled up. It was the lady who ran the first place I had called at. She could offer me one night. This one was run by her sister and she didn’t know how things were here. I agreed to take the one night and went back, parked, looked at the room, went to unpack and found – no toiletries! Those, dear reader, were very safely ensconced in Innsbruck, as I found out after a telephone call. I will traverse the country back, this time by toll road, as see a different view.
I then went into Vienna.
The first thing I saw was a woman who was identical to a Michelle S who I once taught – I almost beeped the horn to see if it was her. Then as I got closer into the centre of Vienna and wanted to park, I got caught up by a Pole who had parked in a no-standing zone and there wasn’t enough room for me to get between has car and the cannonballs (you may see them in the fountain photo if you look carefully). I had to back out and go down a few other streets to find a spot to park. The first thing I saw was … Crossfield’s Australian Pub. I couldn’t believe my eyes, that of all the places in Vienna I could have parked, I was just down the road from this.
I walked around a bit and down Vienna’s Music Mile – so you will see familiar names. I had tea at a cultural Burger King (Hungry Jack’s) and it was once a restaurant (so it has gone downhill since then). I didn’t even notice the ceiling until a young Canadian couple came in and photographed it.
I walked around a little more, then drove back to my lodgings for the night where mine hostess assured me she was check with her sister in the morning about a room for tomorrow night.
I then did my photos, wrote this up and finally retired.
My new plans are spend tomorrow in Vienna (if I can stay around here, about half an hour from the centre), return to Innsbruck on Wednesday, overnight there and spend the next night somewhere in southern Germany. Then it’s off to Denmark (or more correctly, Danmark).
Otherwise I’ll see it I can overnight in Innsbruck tomorrow night and play it by ear then.
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