Here's how it goes...
C'est Voila! Bon Apetit!
Many thanks to a very understanding barman, (who's name I either forgot to ask or forgot to remember), in Leuven who also gave me a classic Stella Artois tin ashtray to take home as a souvenir.
Monday, 28 July 2008
Pouring the perfect Stella
Have you ever wanted to tell the landlord at your local how to pour a proper Stella?
Here's how it goes...
Here's how it goes...
Saturday 26th July - Au revoir Belgique / Francais and welcome home
Surprisingly not hungover on Saturday morning we went into town for a quick roll and coffee breakfast from a bakery and then went back to the hotel to pack the car and head for Calais which was 2-3 hours' drive from Leuven.
We did stop on the way in Adinkerke, commonly known as Tobacco Alley because it is the last place in Belgium before the French border where you can buy cigarettes as Belgium duty rates which are a lot lower than the French, and heaps lower than UK duty on cigarettes.
After stocking up we went to the Hypermarche in Calais to stock up on wine, beer, cheeses, and other delicacies. The car sat a little lower on the wheels than it did when we left Leuven by the time we got to the port.
I had booked the Club Lounge for the short ferry back to Dover which was superb. Comfy chairs, champagne on arrival and complimentary tea and coffee. It was a really nice way to complete the journey and I knocked back 5 or 6 cups of tea having just had coffee for 2 weeks. Sweet, sweet nectar!
And so dear blog readers we are back in the UK now and back to real life. The mundane awaits but to keep the blog, and the memories, going for a while longer I am going to sort through the photos and post the most memorable so watch this space.
Au revoir
:-)
We did stop on the way in Adinkerke, commonly known as Tobacco Alley because it is the last place in Belgium before the French border where you can buy cigarettes as Belgium duty rates which are a lot lower than the French, and heaps lower than UK duty on cigarettes.
After stocking up we went to the Hypermarche in Calais to stock up on wine, beer, cheeses, and other delicacies. The car sat a little lower on the wheels than it did when we left Leuven by the time we got to the port.
I had booked the Club Lounge for the short ferry back to Dover which was superb. Comfy chairs, champagne on arrival and complimentary tea and coffee. It was a really nice way to complete the journey and I knocked back 5 or 6 cups of tea having just had coffee for 2 weeks. Sweet, sweet nectar!
And so dear blog readers we are back in the UK now and back to real life. The mundane awaits but to keep the blog, and the memories, going for a while longer I am going to sort through the photos and post the most memorable so watch this space.
Au revoir
:-)
Friday 25th July - Part Deux
I am home now as I write but wanted to finish Friday's post and cover the journey home.
Because I was on holiday I decided on a nap when we checked in at the Novotel but Ali wanted to go out so she headed off for a bar that we saw that seemed to have the cheapest Stella in town. I joined her in the bar an hour later and worked out why it was the cheapest in town without too much trouble. It was a real working man’s boozer – and they were smoking inside. Having that first drink and lighting up felt to right but somehow so naughty! It’s amazing how quickly you get conditioned to life’s rules. Has it only been a year since the blanket smoking ban in the UK?
Ali had been talking to the locals before I got there and she had discovered that it was the bar that the Stella workers went to after their shifts finished. She mentioned the tour and was told that if she got “friendly” with one of the workers they could probably give her a “private tour”. As the Sunday newspapers say, “She made her excuses and left”!
We went from the cheap bar to the main square where we had eaten the night before, via McDonalds so we could experience the Big Mac with a beer! We didn’t really want the food so we shared a Big Mac and small fries just so we could take a photo of the tray with the beer on it! Belgium is a cool place where you get beer in McDonalds and can smoke in bars. I think I have found heaven on earth, although my doctor may not entirely agree with that sentiment.
We went on to a bar in the main square where we had a few drinks sitting outside in the sun watching a stage being set up for a tropical music event that evening, sponsored of course by everyone’s favourite beer! Stella sponsors a music festival in Leuven through the summer with a different theme every Friday night. They were doing the sound tests on the stage and setting up the mobile bars. We love work – we could watch it all day!
We did manage to obtain a really good Stella pint jug from that bar. The barman was leaving in 3 weeks to set up his own bar so he said just take it when I offered to buy it from him.
We went back to the dingy bar for a second round of cheap beer and got talking to the barman and a bloke called Merlin (we kid you not) who had been inside the Stella plant where they run “Tap School” to teach bar staff how to pour the perfect pint. It’s quite an art!
I asked Merlin if he got a lot of wizard jokes about his name, explaining that I got the Harry Potter jokes on account of mine. So there we were, Harry Potter and Merlin the Wizard in a bar in Leuven. Picture that if you can!
We left it far too late to get proper dinner so we settled for a kebab (and a bloody nice one at that) from just about the only place open in town before heading back to the hotel for the final night of the holiday.
Because I was on holiday I decided on a nap when we checked in at the Novotel but Ali wanted to go out so she headed off for a bar that we saw that seemed to have the cheapest Stella in town. I joined her in the bar an hour later and worked out why it was the cheapest in town without too much trouble. It was a real working man’s boozer – and they were smoking inside. Having that first drink and lighting up felt to right but somehow so naughty! It’s amazing how quickly you get conditioned to life’s rules. Has it only been a year since the blanket smoking ban in the UK?
Ali had been talking to the locals before I got there and she had discovered that it was the bar that the Stella workers went to after their shifts finished. She mentioned the tour and was told that if she got “friendly” with one of the workers they could probably give her a “private tour”. As the Sunday newspapers say, “She made her excuses and left”!
We went from the cheap bar to the main square where we had eaten the night before, via McDonalds so we could experience the Big Mac with a beer! We didn’t really want the food so we shared a Big Mac and small fries just so we could take a photo of the tray with the beer on it! Belgium is a cool place where you get beer in McDonalds and can smoke in bars. I think I have found heaven on earth, although my doctor may not entirely agree with that sentiment.
We went on to a bar in the main square where we had a few drinks sitting outside in the sun watching a stage being set up for a tropical music event that evening, sponsored of course by everyone’s favourite beer! Stella sponsors a music festival in Leuven through the summer with a different theme every Friday night. They were doing the sound tests on the stage and setting up the mobile bars. We love work – we could watch it all day!
We did manage to obtain a really good Stella pint jug from that bar. The barman was leaving in 3 weeks to set up his own bar so he said just take it when I offered to buy it from him.
We went back to the dingy bar for a second round of cheap beer and got talking to the barman and a bloke called Merlin (we kid you not) who had been inside the Stella plant where they run “Tap School” to teach bar staff how to pour the perfect pint. It’s quite an art!
I asked Merlin if he got a lot of wizard jokes about his name, explaining that I got the Harry Potter jokes on account of mine. So there we were, Harry Potter and Merlin the Wizard in a bar in Leuven. Picture that if you can!
We left it far too late to get proper dinner so we settled for a kebab (and a bloody nice one at that) from just about the only place open in town before heading back to the hotel for the final night of the holiday.
Saturday, 26 July 2008
Friday 25th July - What tour?
We decided to have a wander through town to find some Belgian waffles for breakfast. Ali liked them but I wasn't that keen. You can't beat toast and Marmite for brekky!
Then we had a post-waffle wander through the main shopping street which was full of the same chains of stores that fill every UK High Street so it was a bit of a let down after the grand streets with their beautiful squares and buildings that we saw the night before. What we didn't expect was the scale of the map we were using so that when we got to the end of the shopping street we were on the ring road.
We looked down to see the Holy Grail.................there it was in all its majesty. The Stella Brewery plant - and it was massive. I could almost hear the angels trumpeting our arrival at my spiritual home!
Deciding that there was not another moment to waste we hurried down the road to the main entrance and then discovered that it was back up a fork in the road within a few yards of where we first saw it, but no matter, we got to the main entrance in the end.
This is where we were told that the next English speaking tour is next Friday and that all visitors must be booked in advance :-(( On the bright side this does mean that a return visit to Leuven is well justified.
We then walked back to our hotel, checked out and drove the 0.7 miles to the new one. We couldn't stay at the Holiday Inn because they were carrying out air conditioning upgrades to the rooms and had limited capacity. The Novotel, cruelly, is about 30 yards from the brewery we can't visit.
I'm going to leave it there for now as we are checking out of the hotel on the way to Calais - Boo! I'll write the rest from home.
It's been quite a journey and brilliant fun. We can't believe that it is time to go home now but reality, and a nice cup of tea, awaits.
Ciao
Then we had a post-waffle wander through the main shopping street which was full of the same chains of stores that fill every UK High Street so it was a bit of a let down after the grand streets with their beautiful squares and buildings that we saw the night before. What we didn't expect was the scale of the map we were using so that when we got to the end of the shopping street we were on the ring road.
We looked down to see the Holy Grail.................there it was in all its majesty. The Stella Brewery plant - and it was massive. I could almost hear the angels trumpeting our arrival at my spiritual home!
Deciding that there was not another moment to waste we hurried down the road to the main entrance and then discovered that it was back up a fork in the road within a few yards of where we first saw it, but no matter, we got to the main entrance in the end.
This is where we were told that the next English speaking tour is next Friday and that all visitors must be booked in advance :-(( On the bright side this does mean that a return visit to Leuven is well justified.
We then walked back to our hotel, checked out and drove the 0.7 miles to the new one. We couldn't stay at the Holiday Inn because they were carrying out air conditioning upgrades to the rooms and had limited capacity. The Novotel, cruelly, is about 30 yards from the brewery we can't visit.
I'm going to leave it there for now as we are checking out of the hotel on the way to Calais - Boo! I'll write the rest from home.
It's been quite a journey and brilliant fun. We can't believe that it is time to go home now but reality, and a nice cup of tea, awaits.
Ciao
Friday, 25 July 2008
Thursday 24th July – Leuven, The quest for the Holy Grail of brewing
We woke up late this morning, despite promises made last night to ourselves that we would make an early start for Belgium to be in Brussels or Leuven by mid afternoon. We woke with the unnerving feeling that we’d left the fridge and cool-bag out all night as they weren’t in the room. They weren’t by the bench outside when the (much needed) coffee was got in the morning. When we got to the car, there was the fridge and cool-bag, but neither of us can remember how they got into the boot of the car! Needless to say we were, okay I was, hung-over (Nik blames the last glass of wine – but it always is!), and we still needed to book a hotel for this evening. A visit to McDonalds in Dijon for free wi-fi got us a hotel booking in Leuven and an instant hangover cure – Big Tasty burgers, fries and coke – We’re lovin’ it!!
We headed off for Leuven and although tired we did our now customary two hours, stop, coffee, then change drivers, and we were in Leuven in less than six hours. Again, the driving was easy although lane discipline and motorway etiquette has dropped the further north we have driven.
I was half expecting Leuven to be a bit of a crappy industrial town with a huge brewery, but it is a fantastic place. Unfortunately Hercule Poirot is out of town. We are staying in the Holiday Inn right in the centre of town. It is a university town and is chocolate box beautiful.
Every bar sells at least 20 types of beer but we had to go straight for the Stella Artois. It has a more sharp flavour and more of a bitter aftertaste than the Stella in the UK, but it’s served very cold and the head is cut off with a knife, just like in the adverts – Brilliant!!!
There are so many bars and cafes in town. It seems like very corner you turn there is another street or square packed with bars with outside tables. There’s quite a cosmopolitan atmosphere here with lots of tourists and students milling about. Most importantly everyone speaks impeccable English which is great because neither of us know a word of Belgian.
After trying out a handful of bars, just to check that there was consistency in the serving of the famous brew, we started looking for somewhere to eat. It’s not that hard as every bar seems to also be a restaurant. We were walking down a street looking at menus when I saw a side street which seemed to have quite a few tables at the top of it. We walked up into a huge market square which was packed with bars and restaurants and decided on one called The Meating Place. They served one of the best, and hugest, steaks either of us has ever eaten.
Tomorrow is the brewery tour so blogging may be a bit tricky by the time we get back from there. We can’t believe that this holiday will be over in just 48 hours but we are determined to maker the most of those precious remaining moments.
So, from the beautiful town of Leuven, bye bye for now.
Cheers!
We headed off for Leuven and although tired we did our now customary two hours, stop, coffee, then change drivers, and we were in Leuven in less than six hours. Again, the driving was easy although lane discipline and motorway etiquette has dropped the further north we have driven.
I was half expecting Leuven to be a bit of a crappy industrial town with a huge brewery, but it is a fantastic place. Unfortunately Hercule Poirot is out of town. We are staying in the Holiday Inn right in the centre of town. It is a university town and is chocolate box beautiful.
Every bar sells at least 20 types of beer but we had to go straight for the Stella Artois. It has a more sharp flavour and more of a bitter aftertaste than the Stella in the UK, but it’s served very cold and the head is cut off with a knife, just like in the adverts – Brilliant!!!
There are so many bars and cafes in town. It seems like very corner you turn there is another street or square packed with bars with outside tables. There’s quite a cosmopolitan atmosphere here with lots of tourists and students milling about. Most importantly everyone speaks impeccable English which is great because neither of us know a word of Belgian.
After trying out a handful of bars, just to check that there was consistency in the serving of the famous brew, we started looking for somewhere to eat. It’s not that hard as every bar seems to also be a restaurant. We were walking down a street looking at menus when I saw a side street which seemed to have quite a few tables at the top of it. We walked up into a huge market square which was packed with bars and restaurants and decided on one called The Meating Place. They served one of the best, and hugest, steaks either of us has ever eaten.
Tomorrow is the brewery tour so blogging may be a bit tricky by the time we get back from there. We can’t believe that this holiday will be over in just 48 hours but we are determined to maker the most of those precious remaining moments.
So, from the beautiful town of Leuven, bye bye for now.
Cheers!
Wednesday 23rd July – Dijon, but no mustard
Bonjour Bloggers
We stopped at Dijon as planned yesterday and, as expected; we didn’t get to see any of the city, just the hotel and the autoroute. The driving was as easy as we expected though and apart from hordes of Dutch caravaners and a 20 minute hold up in Lyon the traffic was pretty light. We made Dijon in about 6 ½ hours from Frejus.
The car has blown a brake-light bulb and we do have a spare, as per the law in France. We just don’t have the tool kit to replace it. The Law’s an ass in France too! As we are now only about five hours from home I don’t feel that it would be tempting fate to say that the car has otherwise behaved flawlessly throughout, giving 46mpg even with stop-start driving and VERY heavy usage of the air conditioning.
The hotel in Dijon was an Etap which is like an Ibis but more basic. Unfortunately it also meant that there was no wi-fi access so no blog updates from Dijon.
Luckily we were cunning enough to have bought provisions and a big bag of ice in Frejus so we had plenty of cold beer, wine and food in the car fridge.
After booking in at about 7 we had a picnic dinner on a pub garden style bench in front of the hotel and made many friends throughout the evening. We met a wonderful family, the Kramers from Holland who were on their way to a camping holiday in the Ardeche region. We were chatting for ages with Paul and Ingrid and their lovely children Steven, Kwint, Tinne and Eva. Paul is a biker so he and Ali had a lot in common while I chatted to Ingrid and the children about my sad holiday packing saga. (To be honest, I still don’t think that an electric toothbrush and charger and two ‘emergency reserve’ manual toothbrushes with two tubes of toothpaste – one for the rucksack and one for the case - is overdoing it but that doesn’t seem to be the perceived wisdom.)
Needless to say we ended up having a really lovely picnic and drank way too much, going to bed far too late, but hey – we’re on holiday!
We stopped at Dijon as planned yesterday and, as expected; we didn’t get to see any of the city, just the hotel and the autoroute. The driving was as easy as we expected though and apart from hordes of Dutch caravaners and a 20 minute hold up in Lyon the traffic was pretty light. We made Dijon in about 6 ½ hours from Frejus.
The car has blown a brake-light bulb and we do have a spare, as per the law in France. We just don’t have the tool kit to replace it. The Law’s an ass in France too! As we are now only about five hours from home I don’t feel that it would be tempting fate to say that the car has otherwise behaved flawlessly throughout, giving 46mpg even with stop-start driving and VERY heavy usage of the air conditioning.
The hotel in Dijon was an Etap which is like an Ibis but more basic. Unfortunately it also meant that there was no wi-fi access so no blog updates from Dijon.
Luckily we were cunning enough to have bought provisions and a big bag of ice in Frejus so we had plenty of cold beer, wine and food in the car fridge.
After booking in at about 7 we had a picnic dinner on a pub garden style bench in front of the hotel and made many friends throughout the evening. We met a wonderful family, the Kramers from Holland who were on their way to a camping holiday in the Ardeche region. We were chatting for ages with Paul and Ingrid and their lovely children Steven, Kwint, Tinne and Eva. Paul is a biker so he and Ali had a lot in common while I chatted to Ingrid and the children about my sad holiday packing saga. (To be honest, I still don’t think that an electric toothbrush and charger and two ‘emergency reserve’ manual toothbrushes with two tubes of toothpaste – one for the rucksack and one for the case - is overdoing it but that doesn’t seem to be the perceived wisdom.)
Needless to say we ended up having a really lovely picnic and drank way too much, going to bed far too late, but hey – we’re on holiday!
Tuesday, 22 July 2008
Tuesday 22nd July - Time to head north
Bonjour again from Frejus!
Since the last blog we have done absolutely sod-all except lay by the pool to top up the tans before we leave the Cote D'Azur tomorrow to head north.
The plan is to be in Belgium on Friday to visit the Leuven brewery - my Mecca!
Leuven is about 20 miles from Brussels so we are looking to be in Brussels by Thursday night, thinking that visiting the brewery on Saturday will be a really crap idea because we have a ferry to catch at 1730hrs.
Tomorrow's goal is to get as far as Dijon which is about 400 miles north and east from Frejus. With breaks I reckon on about 6 hours' driving for this part of the journey so it's unlikely that we'll see too much of the place before hitting the hotel and then pressing on on Thursday for Belgium, the mystical land of Choclit 'n' Beer!
The weather forecast is good so we should be driving in the mid to high 20's and sunny all the way, hit the cruise control and just nudge the steering wheel every so often.
So for the last post from the French Riviera, au revoir...
...but before I go, my brother in law is starting out on a charity bike ride tomorrow from London to Paris in 4 days hard biking so while I have been lording it up these past few days he has undoubtedly been going through a lot of last-minute preparations, and probably shitting bricks too. Good luck to you Flash - see you on the other side! I'm sure you will be okay.
For anyone interested in sponsoring him for this act of selfless madness, the website is http://action.org.uk/~ashleylewis
Since the last blog we have done absolutely sod-all except lay by the pool to top up the tans before we leave the Cote D'Azur tomorrow to head north.
The plan is to be in Belgium on Friday to visit the Leuven brewery - my Mecca!
Leuven is about 20 miles from Brussels so we are looking to be in Brussels by Thursday night, thinking that visiting the brewery on Saturday will be a really crap idea because we have a ferry to catch at 1730hrs.
Tomorrow's goal is to get as far as Dijon which is about 400 miles north and east from Frejus. With breaks I reckon on about 6 hours' driving for this part of the journey so it's unlikely that we'll see too much of the place before hitting the hotel and then pressing on on Thursday for Belgium, the mystical land of Choclit 'n' Beer!
The weather forecast is good so we should be driving in the mid to high 20's and sunny all the way, hit the cruise control and just nudge the steering wheel every so often.
So for the last post from the French Riviera, au revoir...
...but before I go, my brother in law is starting out on a charity bike ride tomorrow from London to Paris in 4 days hard biking so while I have been lording it up these past few days he has undoubtedly been going through a lot of last-minute preparations, and probably shitting bricks too. Good luck to you Flash - see you on the other side! I'm sure you will be okay.
For anyone interested in sponsoring him for this act of selfless madness, the website is http://action.org.uk/~ashleylewis
Monday 21st July - Frejus - Room with a view
Bonjour Bloggers from sunny Frejus
The journey from Nice to Frejus was a bit of a nightmare I'm afraid. It's only about 35 miles but it took over 2½ hours - I could have gone quicker in London!
We got here a bit late for spending too much time on the beach or by the pool but what a lovely beach it is! All sand with sparkly bits, gently shelving into the crystal clear turquoise Mediterranean.
The hotel is a stunner. The best one yet by a long way, but then again it is a lot more expensive than the others too. We decided because we got here so late that we would book an additional night so we can enjoy the place fully. We have a private beach, swimming pool, health spa (yeah right!) and the most amazing balcony view. The room overlooks a beautful harbour packed with gleaming white yachts. All around the harbour are boutiques, restaurants and bars which come alive after about 8pm. The photo shows the view from our balcony at night.
When we arrived we emptied the mini-bar and stocked the fridge with our own orange juice, water, beer and food. Later on we found a supermarket where we bought cooked fish, tomatoes, peaches and pate and this morning I popped over to a boulangerie to grab a still warm baguette for breakfast on the balcony. This really feels like living the dream!
Must dash now - we have plonked books and towels down on sun-loungers by the pool to beat the Germans to the best spots. A day lazing in the sun awaits...
A Bientot
Sunday, 20 July 2008
Sunday 20th July - Nice.......it's nice
We woke to a beautiful Riviera day and breakfasted on the hotel's free coffee before heading off for a wander and ultimately ending up at the beach.
The town is very nice (I don't mean that as a pun everytime I write it), typically French buildings, pavement cafes, maniacs on scooters, etc.
After a lovely lunch we set off for the beach which was disappointing in so much as the rather large pebbles and very quickly shelving sea. Within a few yards the ground just fell away. That is not to say that we didn't enjoy it though, even if the pebbles did make walking a bit painful on bare feet. The steep slope combined with the large pebbles did make it quite difficult to get out of the sea. The waves pushed you forwards but the pebbles dragged you back. How we laughed watching others get out of the sea, until we tried it ourselves!
We stayed on the beach until gone 7pm and wandered back through town to the hotel, picking up some lovely takeaway asian food on the way to eat in the hotel room.
Back at the room we were deciding where to go next. The plan, (which is said in its loosest sense) now is to go as far as Marseilles and bomb up north to scenic Leuven. We used Google earth to find a nice town with good sandy beaches and found Frejus. The only problem was that the only hotel we could find with rooms is €147 per night. We'll just stay the one night then!
The other thing about Frejus is that it rhymes with Praise You and I can't get the Fatboy Slim song out of my head now!
Au revoir
Saturday 19th July – Down, out and hungover in Portofino
We got up late and I soon discovered that someone had let loose a herd of elephants playing percussion instruments in my head and shovelled ash in my throat while I slept. To say I felt like crap would be an understatement. Ali seemed to fare a lot better but I couldn’t even have a shave because the buzzing of the shaver would have been too painful.
Groggily we checked out of the hotel after taking in as much liquid as we possibly could, supplemented with Nurofen for me. The plan was to drive the 30 miles south to Portofino, find an hotel and stay for 2 nights so we could watch the Grand Prix while in Italy. At least we didn’t have to worry too much about getting caught short on the drive thanks to the massive dehydration we were both suffering.
The coast road into Portofino is as beautiful as it is dangerous. In 5 or 6 miles I could only have got up to 3rd gear as many times. It was so narrow with buses swinging around blind curves on the wrong side of the road. There were a few bottom-clenching moments but thankfully no new scars were added to the car. We passed through beautiful little towns with small coves of crystal clear turquoise waters lapping at the sheer cliff faces and boats from small leisure craft to fantastically expensive yachts bobbing gently as the waves lapped at their sides.
All I had heard vaguely about Portofino previously was that it was a lovely Italian resort and indeed it is. The only trouble is that it’s also the sort of place that the likes of Bill Gates, Rupert Murdoch, Roman Ibramovich and their ilk moor their super-yachts to go shopping in the designer boutiques.
The harbour is achingly beautiful in a natural cove with a castle overlooking it all from the top of the cliffs. The buildings are typically Mediterranean with immaculate shutters and awnings which on ground level have been turned into some of the most expensive retail outlets in the world. You know they are posh when they don’t need plate glass windows to show you what they sell. If you know of them, you can afford to shop in them. We did not go shopping in Portofino!
Unsurprisingly, and after an expensive but mediocre pasta lunch we decided that maybe we were in the wrong place to find a budget hotel so reluctantly made our way out of Portofino, the original plans now disbanded.
The choices were to go further south and find a hotel, go back to Genoa which is about the only major city between Portofino and the French border, or to press on into France. In the end we decided on France because it would get us away from the crazy Italian drivers and I thought that we had probably pressed our luck after 2 days with no scratches or dings on the car. We stopped at a service station and made a reservation at the Ibis in Nice.
A couple of hours later we were safely settled into the hotel where I ordered drinks in French and was rewarded with a puzzled look and asked if I spoke English! So much for that French language audiobook! I was vindicated later when we ordered dinner and the waitress thought I was French after I spoke so maybe the audiobook wasn’t such a bad investment after all J
We went for a walk after dinner along the first part of the promenade by the beach and were surprised at the amount of activity at 10pm. There were families having barbecues and kids playing volleyball. It was a hive of activity and we were expecting a quiet walk along a mostly deserted beach.
I did try to get photos of a most amazing red moon as it rose in the East but the light pollution from the promenade made it impossible.
Feeling absolutely knackered after the walking, driving and shaking off a dreadful hangover it was not hard to fall asleep very soundly, very quickly.
That’s all for now mon amies. A Bientot!
Groggily we checked out of the hotel after taking in as much liquid as we possibly could, supplemented with Nurofen for me. The plan was to drive the 30 miles south to Portofino, find an hotel and stay for 2 nights so we could watch the Grand Prix while in Italy. At least we didn’t have to worry too much about getting caught short on the drive thanks to the massive dehydration we were both suffering.
The coast road into Portofino is as beautiful as it is dangerous. In 5 or 6 miles I could only have got up to 3rd gear as many times. It was so narrow with buses swinging around blind curves on the wrong side of the road. There were a few bottom-clenching moments but thankfully no new scars were added to the car. We passed through beautiful little towns with small coves of crystal clear turquoise waters lapping at the sheer cliff faces and boats from small leisure craft to fantastically expensive yachts bobbing gently as the waves lapped at their sides.
All I had heard vaguely about Portofino previously was that it was a lovely Italian resort and indeed it is. The only trouble is that it’s also the sort of place that the likes of Bill Gates, Rupert Murdoch, Roman Ibramovich and their ilk moor their super-yachts to go shopping in the designer boutiques.
The harbour is achingly beautiful in a natural cove with a castle overlooking it all from the top of the cliffs. The buildings are typically Mediterranean with immaculate shutters and awnings which on ground level have been turned into some of the most expensive retail outlets in the world. You know they are posh when they don’t need plate glass windows to show you what they sell. If you know of them, you can afford to shop in them. We did not go shopping in Portofino!
Unsurprisingly, and after an expensive but mediocre pasta lunch we decided that maybe we were in the wrong place to find a budget hotel so reluctantly made our way out of Portofino, the original plans now disbanded.
The choices were to go further south and find a hotel, go back to Genoa which is about the only major city between Portofino and the French border, or to press on into France. In the end we decided on France because it would get us away from the crazy Italian drivers and I thought that we had probably pressed our luck after 2 days with no scratches or dings on the car. We stopped at a service station and made a reservation at the Ibis in Nice.
A couple of hours later we were safely settled into the hotel where I ordered drinks in French and was rewarded with a puzzled look and asked if I spoke English! So much for that French language audiobook! I was vindicated later when we ordered dinner and the waitress thought I was French after I spoke so maybe the audiobook wasn’t such a bad investment after all J
We went for a walk after dinner along the first part of the promenade by the beach and were surprised at the amount of activity at 10pm. There were families having barbecues and kids playing volleyball. It was a hive of activity and we were expecting a quiet walk along a mostly deserted beach.
I did try to get photos of a most amazing red moon as it rose in the East but the light pollution from the promenade made it impossible.
Feeling absolutely knackered after the walking, driving and shaking off a dreadful hangover it was not hard to fall asleep very soundly, very quickly.
That’s all for now mon amies. A Bientot!
Friday 19th July – Genoa
It all started so well in Genoa. It looked beautiful from the boat as we moored in the port…and then we had to drive off the ferry, almost colliding with an HGV because we weren’t prepared for the Le Mans style start from the ferry parking space. When we got off the Bilbao ferry, everyone was in their cars for 10 – 15 minutes while everything was made safe. In Italy they drop the ferry door and everyone’s off!
For Brits it was gratifying that we were the only car that managed to get off the ferry and drive on the right! All of the other cars drove down the right hand lane of a dual-carriageway and boy did they look miffed when they saw us at the port exit!
For every legend about Italian drivers I can now confirm that there’s no smoke without fire. They are absolutely mental. It’s every man, woman child, cat and dog for himself. Indicators are a sign of weakness and / or contrition, the horn and wild gesticulation is the only form of communication, and you don’t so much park as stop wherever you fancy.
After a 15 minute drive that felt like 15 hours we got to the hotel. This one’s a Novotel which is the same chain but a bit posher than the Ibis hotels we have been staying in. It has a nice lobby, reception desk and bar but no Wi-Fi. Shame on you Novotel! There is a PC in the lobby where you can swipe your credit card and get access but you can’t copy and paste the offline blogs because there’s no USB port. Grrrr!
Apart from that the hotel is fine. The room is big and overlooks the port of Genoa. The temperatures have ranged from 32ºC during the day to 22ºC even at 2am. How do we know this? It’s a long story…
We took a short walk from the hotel to find a bar, fund one and had a couple of beers (naturally) to recover from the drive from the port. We went back and booked a taxi at the hotel reception to go into the main town and find some dinner.
The old town is very Italian with wide open piazzas discovered by walking through narrow streets, all the time dodging the ever-present mopeds. It’s a really beautiful place. We found a Trattoria / Pizzeria on a pedestrianised street lined with 4 or 5 storey shuttered apartment buildings.
Now I have a strong belief, often shared, that pizza is the King of Food and Italian pizza surpasses every other one I have ever eaten. Bellisimo! I realise now why foreign visitors comment that the British version of pizza is boiled, not baked. You can forget Pizza Hut, Domino’s or even Pizza Express – this was the real deal. I had a Quattro Stagioni, olives, artichoke hearts, ham and loads more. Ali had a Vesuvius – salami and cayenne peppers. We decided that it would be good to eat ‘continental style’ and take our time, chatting, drinking, smoking and watching the world go by and it took us a couple of hours to see off our pizzas. They really do have the right attitude to food and drink here. They even sell beer and wine by the litre jug – Heaven really does exist!
We had probably had about enough beer and wine when we got back to the hotel, and maybe should have been sensible enough to realise this, but the bar was open and so we settled in for a couple more. The point at which I suggested that we should have a shot of Grappa while in Italy should definitely have rung the alarm bells. It tastes like shit in restaurants at home so why would it be any better in Genoa? Ali had never tried it before and I should have known better because it was foul!!
There was another patron at the bar and we struck up a conversation with him. He shook his head and asked us why on earth we would drink “Crappa”. He was a very nice bloke from Holland and quite knowledgeable about the Italian and French Riviera. We only wished that we could have remembered half the things he said the next day!
By this time the bar had shut and again we should have taken this as a clear sign that we should retire but oh no, not us. We went for a walk and found an all night bar in a bit of a run down part of town where we kept ordering the beer until we ran out of cigarettes, which the bar did not sell. (Yes, the European non- smoking lobby have got to Italy as well.) There was only one thing for it – we could have another beer if we could surpass the language barrier and buy some cigarettes from one of the other patrons of the bar, all of whom were completely pissed as well. How we managed this I don’t know but we did, and made a friend at the same time. He wouldn’t accept payment for the cigarettes so we repaid him in the universal currency of beer!
We staggered back to the hotel and collapsed taking a photo on the way of a sign that showed the time and the temperature, 26ºC and 0200. Italy, Genoa…what a brilliant place!
For Brits it was gratifying that we were the only car that managed to get off the ferry and drive on the right! All of the other cars drove down the right hand lane of a dual-carriageway and boy did they look miffed when they saw us at the port exit!
For every legend about Italian drivers I can now confirm that there’s no smoke without fire. They are absolutely mental. It’s every man, woman child, cat and dog for himself. Indicators are a sign of weakness and / or contrition, the horn and wild gesticulation is the only form of communication, and you don’t so much park as stop wherever you fancy.
After a 15 minute drive that felt like 15 hours we got to the hotel. This one’s a Novotel which is the same chain but a bit posher than the Ibis hotels we have been staying in. It has a nice lobby, reception desk and bar but no Wi-Fi. Shame on you Novotel! There is a PC in the lobby where you can swipe your credit card and get access but you can’t copy and paste the offline blogs because there’s no USB port. Grrrr!
Apart from that the hotel is fine. The room is big and overlooks the port of Genoa. The temperatures have ranged from 32ºC during the day to 22ºC even at 2am. How do we know this? It’s a long story…
We took a short walk from the hotel to find a bar, fund one and had a couple of beers (naturally) to recover from the drive from the port. We went back and booked a taxi at the hotel reception to go into the main town and find some dinner.
The old town is very Italian with wide open piazzas discovered by walking through narrow streets, all the time dodging the ever-present mopeds. It’s a really beautiful place. We found a Trattoria / Pizzeria on a pedestrianised street lined with 4 or 5 storey shuttered apartment buildings.
Now I have a strong belief, often shared, that pizza is the King of Food and Italian pizza surpasses every other one I have ever eaten. Bellisimo! I realise now why foreign visitors comment that the British version of pizza is boiled, not baked. You can forget Pizza Hut, Domino’s or even Pizza Express – this was the real deal. I had a Quattro Stagioni, olives, artichoke hearts, ham and loads more. Ali had a Vesuvius – salami and cayenne peppers. We decided that it would be good to eat ‘continental style’ and take our time, chatting, drinking, smoking and watching the world go by and it took us a couple of hours to see off our pizzas. They really do have the right attitude to food and drink here. They even sell beer and wine by the litre jug – Heaven really does exist!
We had probably had about enough beer and wine when we got back to the hotel, and maybe should have been sensible enough to realise this, but the bar was open and so we settled in for a couple more. The point at which I suggested that we should have a shot of Grappa while in Italy should definitely have rung the alarm bells. It tastes like shit in restaurants at home so why would it be any better in Genoa? Ali had never tried it before and I should have known better because it was foul!!
There was another patron at the bar and we struck up a conversation with him. He shook his head and asked us why on earth we would drink “Crappa”. He was a very nice bloke from Holland and quite knowledgeable about the Italian and French Riviera. We only wished that we could have remembered half the things he said the next day!
By this time the bar had shut and again we should have taken this as a clear sign that we should retire but oh no, not us. We went for a walk and found an all night bar in a bit of a run down part of town where we kept ordering the beer until we ran out of cigarettes, which the bar did not sell. (Yes, the European non- smoking lobby have got to Italy as well.) There was only one thing for it – we could have another beer if we could surpass the language barrier and buy some cigarettes from one of the other patrons of the bar, all of whom were completely pissed as well. How we managed this I don’t know but we did, and made a friend at the same time. He wouldn’t accept payment for the cigarettes so we repaid him in the universal currency of beer!
We staggered back to the hotel and collapsed taking a photo on the way of a sign that showed the time and the temperature, 26ºC and 0200. Italy, Genoa…what a brilliant place!
Thursday 17 July – Barcelona and then Adios Espana, Buonjorno Italia!
We got into Barcelona city centre by late lunchtime, after a bit of a nerve-racking drive. We found a car park near the port so there wouldn’t be too much of a drive afterwards.
It was another day of hard marching to try to get to see most of the sights before we had to leave to catch the ferry to Genoa. We did well, and even travelled on the Metro to see the Sagria Famillia. Unfortunately both that and the cathedral were under serious reconstruction. How does a city council work out that it is a good thing to reconstruct the two iconic monuments of a city at the same time?
It was a shame that the photo opportunities were limited at these landmarks but it didn’t really take away from the overall beauty of the place.
The old quarter with narrow alleys between beautiful old buildings that burst into open squares at seemingly random intervals is quite something. There are cafes and little shops everywhere. Okay, most of them are there purely to capture the tourist trade but they do at least manage to blend in with the environment.
The main walkway, Les Ramblas, is home to McDonalds, Burger King, KFC, a sex emporium and packed with overpriced outdoor cafes and bars. It is hard to believe that you can go 20 metres down a side street and be somewhere so different from the crass main street.
Les Ramblas us about a mile long and leads up to Place De Cataluña which wasn’t really worth the walk. It’s like Trafalgar Square but without any of the interesting bits, overlooked by two banks and a branch of Habitat.
We did manage to sort out the extra ticket for Ali on the ferry so she hasn’t got to hitch-hike to Italy to meet me. A shame in a way because the cabin on the ferry is as small as the one on the Portsmouth – Bilbao ferry J
We sailed out of Barcelona last night to a beautiful sunset over the city. I think Barcelona will be well worth a second look, maybe for an EasyJet long weekend later in the season. 32ºC and long walks with rucksacks is a test of stamina – especially for the terminally unfit like me.
Saying that, the walking and salads have started to have an effect on me, although I am not saying that I will come back any lighter because we have Italian cuisine next!
I am writing this on the ferry to upload to the blog later when we get the hotel in Genoa. We are 30 minutes away from docking and have been turfed out of the cabin so it seemed like a good time to sit and write. The ferry has been good, although maybe slightly rougher than the crossing to Spain, which surprised us. It is not exactly nausea-inducing, handrail grabbing rough, just a bit more than before. The sea is a beautiful deep turquoise colour and we hugged the Spanish and French coasts for most of the way.
In 30 minutes I’ll be tackling the Italian traffic drivers who, by legend, are even more notoriously mental than the Spanish. Fingers crossed!!!!!
I haven’t transferred any of the photos to the laptop since Bilbao but will give it a go at some point.
Ciao!
It was another day of hard marching to try to get to see most of the sights before we had to leave to catch the ferry to Genoa. We did well, and even travelled on the Metro to see the Sagria Famillia. Unfortunately both that and the cathedral were under serious reconstruction. How does a city council work out that it is a good thing to reconstruct the two iconic monuments of a city at the same time?
It was a shame that the photo opportunities were limited at these landmarks but it didn’t really take away from the overall beauty of the place.
The old quarter with narrow alleys between beautiful old buildings that burst into open squares at seemingly random intervals is quite something. There are cafes and little shops everywhere. Okay, most of them are there purely to capture the tourist trade but they do at least manage to blend in with the environment.
The main walkway, Les Ramblas, is home to McDonalds, Burger King, KFC, a sex emporium and packed with overpriced outdoor cafes and bars. It is hard to believe that you can go 20 metres down a side street and be somewhere so different from the crass main street.
Les Ramblas us about a mile long and leads up to Place De Cataluña which wasn’t really worth the walk. It’s like Trafalgar Square but without any of the interesting bits, overlooked by two banks and a branch of Habitat.
We did manage to sort out the extra ticket for Ali on the ferry so she hasn’t got to hitch-hike to Italy to meet me. A shame in a way because the cabin on the ferry is as small as the one on the Portsmouth – Bilbao ferry J
We sailed out of Barcelona last night to a beautiful sunset over the city. I think Barcelona will be well worth a second look, maybe for an EasyJet long weekend later in the season. 32ºC and long walks with rucksacks is a test of stamina – especially for the terminally unfit like me.
Saying that, the walking and salads have started to have an effect on me, although I am not saying that I will come back any lighter because we have Italian cuisine next!
I am writing this on the ferry to upload to the blog later when we get the hotel in Genoa. We are 30 minutes away from docking and have been turfed out of the cabin so it seemed like a good time to sit and write. The ferry has been good, although maybe slightly rougher than the crossing to Spain, which surprised us. It is not exactly nausea-inducing, handrail grabbing rough, just a bit more than before. The sea is a beautiful deep turquoise colour and we hugged the Spanish and French coasts for most of the way.
In 30 minutes I’ll be tackling the Italian traffic drivers who, by legend, are even more notoriously mental than the Spanish. Fingers crossed!!!!!
I haven’t transferred any of the photos to the laptop since Bilbao but will give it a go at some point.
Ciao!
Wednesday 16th July – Castelldefelles
Okay, well the journey across the narrow bit of Spain wasn’t too bad at all. It’s about 400 miles and when we got here we both felt that we could have easily gone another couple of hundred. Smooth Spanish motorways and cruise control made it so easy. Surprisingly, considering the extra weight in the car, we still made well over 50mpg but the fuel crisis has hit hard here too and a tank-full cost €84 - £67! I was hoping for nearer £50 per tank but I’m sure we’ll cope.
There was a bit of an incident when we didn’t understand the first toll booth and were expecting someone to ask us for money but it was an automated one and you are supposed to just take a ticket and present that at the end of the motorway. Luckily there weren’t any cars behind us and we managed to reverse out of the toll gate and wait for assistance where we were told what to do by an attendant. So I have managed to reverse on a Spanish motorway. I’m sure I’d get points or a bloody good ticking off for that at home but the attendant was very nice about it, although I bet she went back to the office muttering about “Crazy Inglesi”.
We also managed to get to the wrong Ibis hotel. The name for street on the internet booking was in Spanish but this is the Cataluña region so the correct name is in Catalunyan. I did think it was odd that the sat-nav wouldn’t accept the street name when we tried to put it in before leaving Bilbao. I think this happens a lot because the receptionist at the wrong hotel had a stack of photocopied maps to get us to the right one.
The hotel is in the town of Castelldefelles which is about 10 miles from Barcelona but there is a train station a 10 minute walk away that will take us into Barcelona and it looks like there are places to explore here as well.
There were grand plans today to go into the local town, go to the local shops, have a look at the beach and then go into Barcelona this evening for a spot of night-life. The reality was that there was the most gorgeous beach that was about a 2 mile walk from the hotel and we went, we saw and we sunbathed! No sunburn so far thanks to liberal slappings on of factor 15 so we have managed to get some colour other than lobster red.
We got back from the beach about 2 hours ago and they are still serving ice-cold San Miguel so it looks like we are here for the night.
Buenos nochas amigos!
There was a bit of an incident when we didn’t understand the first toll booth and were expecting someone to ask us for money but it was an automated one and you are supposed to just take a ticket and present that at the end of the motorway. Luckily there weren’t any cars behind us and we managed to reverse out of the toll gate and wait for assistance where we were told what to do by an attendant. So I have managed to reverse on a Spanish motorway. I’m sure I’d get points or a bloody good ticking off for that at home but the attendant was very nice about it, although I bet she went back to the office muttering about “Crazy Inglesi”.
We also managed to get to the wrong Ibis hotel. The name for street on the internet booking was in Spanish but this is the Cataluña region so the correct name is in Catalunyan. I did think it was odd that the sat-nav wouldn’t accept the street name when we tried to put it in before leaving Bilbao. I think this happens a lot because the receptionist at the wrong hotel had a stack of photocopied maps to get us to the right one.
The hotel is in the town of Castelldefelles which is about 10 miles from Barcelona but there is a train station a 10 minute walk away that will take us into Barcelona and it looks like there are places to explore here as well.
There were grand plans today to go into the local town, go to the local shops, have a look at the beach and then go into Barcelona this evening for a spot of night-life. The reality was that there was the most gorgeous beach that was about a 2 mile walk from the hotel and we went, we saw and we sunbathed! No sunburn so far thanks to liberal slappings on of factor 15 so we have managed to get some colour other than lobster red.
We got back from the beach about 2 hours ago and they are still serving ice-cold San Miguel so it looks like we are here for the night.
Buenos nochas amigos!
Tuesday, 15 July 2008
Monday 14th July - Hola from Bilbao
What a brilliant sea crossing. I've head all sort of horror stories about the Bay of Biscay and how rough it can be. In fact, last weekend there were serious gales and all manner of sea-sickness tales. However, for the charmed Mr Potter and his travelling companion conditions couldn't have been better. The sea was "mill-pond" flat all the way.
Friday night was a bit of a beery session as soon as we got Portsmouth and having been restrained while in the port because the car still had to be parked on the ferry, the beer began to flow once on board.
The cabin was the size of an en-suite bathroom and included an en-suite bathroom. There was barely enough room to walk between the twin beds but it was clean and functional.
Sunday on board was an early start, mainly due to the lack of sleeping comfort, but there was a Costa Coffee outlet on board and a couple of grande lattes later the sleep deficit was forgotten. We spent the day sitting on deck, getting a suntan, reading and drinking just enough beer to keep us going.
Last night was a reasonably early one after a top steak 'n' chips meal because we were up at 5:30 this morning - just like a work day!! We got off the ferry and drove into Bilbao. The Pioneer sat-nav was superb, getting us straight to the hotel car park. It's a shame that the sat nav can't predict the average Spanish driver. How can such a laid back and friendly people be so psychotically agressive as soon as they hit the tarmac?
Once we had safely put the car out of the way of the Spanish mental drivers we took a roundabout walk to the world famous Guggenheim Museum. The sun was shining and temperatures were in the mid to high 20's - just right for a good walk. The Guggenheim building is every bit as amazing as it is renowned. So many interlocking forms and shapes, it is hard to believe that the building actually has a function. We didn't go in to see the modern art, partly because I would have been there all day and partly because our feet were killing us by then, but we took loads of photos of the stunning building and surrounds. There is a puppy dog sculpture made from flowers outside which is amazing if for nothing but its sheer size - at least three storeys high!
Later this afternoon we checked in at the hotel and went walking again, this time unencumbered by heavy bags and rucksacks, and unsurprisingly found that it was beer o'clock! A few beers in a bar here, and bit of a walk, a few more elsewhere, and then a few more at a bar just down the road from the hotel where I ordered dinner in very basic Spanish. I managed to ask for two salads for two, followed by two more salads for two! Thankfully the owner realised that it was "Stupido Inglesi" and just gave us two salads for two - even though these two were the size of some sort of Salad Mountain.
And that, Dear Blog Follower, is where we are now - back at the hotel with a couple of take-away beers, full stomachs and a doggy bag of mixed salad. Tomorrow is the drive from here to Barcelona which is about as many miles as London to Edinburgh. No doubt there will be some form of Spanglish incidents on the way. Stay posted :-)
Friday night was a bit of a beery session as soon as we got Portsmouth and having been restrained while in the port because the car still had to be parked on the ferry, the beer began to flow once on board.
The cabin was the size of an en-suite bathroom and included an en-suite bathroom. There was barely enough room to walk between the twin beds but it was clean and functional.
Sunday on board was an early start, mainly due to the lack of sleeping comfort, but there was a Costa Coffee outlet on board and a couple of grande lattes later the sleep deficit was forgotten. We spent the day sitting on deck, getting a suntan, reading and drinking just enough beer to keep us going.
Last night was a reasonably early one after a top steak 'n' chips meal because we were up at 5:30 this morning - just like a work day!! We got off the ferry and drove into Bilbao. The Pioneer sat-nav was superb, getting us straight to the hotel car park. It's a shame that the sat nav can't predict the average Spanish driver. How can such a laid back and friendly people be so psychotically agressive as soon as they hit the tarmac?
Once we had safely put the car out of the way of the Spanish mental drivers we took a roundabout walk to the world famous Guggenheim Museum. The sun was shining and temperatures were in the mid to high 20's - just right for a good walk. The Guggenheim building is every bit as amazing as it is renowned. So many interlocking forms and shapes, it is hard to believe that the building actually has a function. We didn't go in to see the modern art, partly because I would have been there all day and partly because our feet were killing us by then, but we took loads of photos of the stunning building and surrounds. There is a puppy dog sculpture made from flowers outside which is amazing if for nothing but its sheer size - at least three storeys high!
Later this afternoon we checked in at the hotel and went walking again, this time unencumbered by heavy bags and rucksacks, and unsurprisingly found that it was beer o'clock! A few beers in a bar here, and bit of a walk, a few more elsewhere, and then a few more at a bar just down the road from the hotel where I ordered dinner in very basic Spanish. I managed to ask for two salads for two, followed by two more salads for two! Thankfully the owner realised that it was "Stupido Inglesi" and just gave us two salads for two - even though these two were the size of some sort of Salad Mountain.
And that, Dear Blog Follower, is where we are now - back at the hotel with a couple of take-away beers, full stomachs and a doggy bag of mixed salad. Tomorrow is the drive from here to Barcelona which is about as many miles as London to Edinburgh. No doubt there will be some form of Spanglish incidents on the way. Stay posted :-)
Friday, 11 July 2008
Only one sleep to go
Almost there now. Just one more night at home and it's off to Portsmouth for tomorrow evening's sailing to Bilbao.
The plan as such is Portsmouth to Bilbao by ferry, drive to Barcelona, take another ferry to Genoa and then there is no plan. All we know is that we must be back in Calais for an evening sailing on Saturday 26th. Coming from such a disappointing(so far) summer in the UK, the idea of a little toodle along the sunny Italian and French Rivieras is pretty appealing right now but so is Switzerland, Austria, Germany...We'll see. The only two must do's for me are a visit to the historic Belgium town of Leuven for the fascinating medieval architecture, (Okay - it's the home-town of Stella Artois), and Monaco for a vodka martini and couple of hands of blackjack at the casino.
As I write it is hammering down with rain, feeling much cooler than the 18C it is supposed to be while the weather report from Bilbao is 25C and sunny. Even that's a little disappointing for the time of year but Barcelona and Marseille do show a lot more promise - and we only have a day in Bilbao in any case.
The car is almost ready. Tyres are inflated, oil, brake fluid and coolant have been checked, and the washer fluid topped to full. I haven't fixed the blind spot mirror or the headlamp deflectors just yet. I started on the wing mirror when the heavens opened and drenched me to the skin in just a few very wet seconds.
Packing isn't going to be as easy as I thought. I thought I'd go for a medium case for my clothes and a cabin case for books, toiletries and laptop. Being determined not to let clothes washing get in the way of a good holiday I have overdone it with the t-shirts, shorts and undercrackers so the medium sized case is bursting before I can even think about shirts, shoes and the million and one other things that I'm sure "may be handy".
All that aside, I have tickets, passport, cash and insurance......really what else is there that can't be bought when I get there? I may have to re-adjust my packing perspectives a little.
Looking forward to two weeks of sun, sea, sand (but not in the car!), drinking, eating and being generally very merry.
A bientôt :-)
The plan as such is Portsmouth to Bilbao by ferry, drive to Barcelona, take another ferry to Genoa and then there is no plan. All we know is that we must be back in Calais for an evening sailing on Saturday 26th. Coming from such a disappointing(so far) summer in the UK, the idea of a little toodle along the sunny Italian and French Rivieras is pretty appealing right now but so is Switzerland, Austria, Germany...We'll see. The only two must do's for me are a visit to the historic Belgium town of Leuven for the fascinating medieval architecture, (Okay - it's the home-town of Stella Artois), and Monaco for a vodka martini and couple of hands of blackjack at the casino.
As I write it is hammering down with rain, feeling much cooler than the 18C it is supposed to be while the weather report from Bilbao is 25C and sunny. Even that's a little disappointing for the time of year but Barcelona and Marseille do show a lot more promise - and we only have a day in Bilbao in any case.
The car is almost ready. Tyres are inflated, oil, brake fluid and coolant have been checked, and the washer fluid topped to full. I haven't fixed the blind spot mirror or the headlamp deflectors just yet. I started on the wing mirror when the heavens opened and drenched me to the skin in just a few very wet seconds.
Packing isn't going to be as easy as I thought. I thought I'd go for a medium case for my clothes and a cabin case for books, toiletries and laptop. Being determined not to let clothes washing get in the way of a good holiday I have overdone it with the t-shirts, shorts and undercrackers so the medium sized case is bursting before I can even think about shirts, shoes and the million and one other things that I'm sure "may be handy".
All that aside, I have tickets, passport, cash and insurance......really what else is there that can't be bought when I get there? I may have to re-adjust my packing perspectives a little.
Looking forward to two weeks of sun, sea, sand (but not in the car!), drinking, eating and being generally very merry.
A bientôt :-)
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