Tales from Urban Bohemia

The train pulled into Prague quite late on Sunday evening, the 8th of August...and for some reason, it was far less disconcerting than when we had arrived in Vienna 24 hours earlier...The first tram stop we arrived at outside the station gave us a bit of a preview into the local scene- Bohemia indeed! Kids- well, young adults- with dreadlocks and piercings a plenty, earthy-hippy-grunge get up, and a dog per person...well, maybe not that many, but I saw more dogs in the Czech Republic than anywhere else in Europe, and trust me, there are a lot of dogs here. But I digress...In short, a very cool scene.

It was late evening and very dark when we arrived in Prague, and so it was a bit hard to get an idea of the architecture, but again, my first impressions gave way to later experiences...although the city is primarily renowned for it's Gothic bridges and buildings, and combination of many styles of architecture from different periods in history, there are also plenty of newly renovated buildings fitted with features that are 'environmentally aware'- censor lights in rooms and hall ways, the option of lightly flushing the loo, for example- and from what I could make out from the messages on bill boards around the place, the city is advancing it's energy saving techniques- or at least trying to- which is uber cool.

Despite all this development, and the evident Western influence (well, in terms of the shopping centres and products anyway), Prague is still very traditional- it's people, it's food and it's culture (FYI- smoking in bars has not yet been outlawed!). The food is fantastic- there's always Goulash, sausage, bread dumplings, as well as red and white cabbage on the menu- and the local ales really are as good as they make them out to be!

Not to divert from our standard routine, we took a walking tour of Prague- but this time we actually paid for it upfront, and despite all the amazing things we saw, and the [far-too-long] lunch half way through- the other free tours that I have been on have been so much better.

'The Ultimate Tour' started at the King Wencelas statue (Wencelas Square), in front of the city's museum, from where we walked along side awesome art nouveau buildings such as The Grand Hotel Europa, through shops and past monuments, to the Old Town Hall and The Astronomical Clock (see photo above).

From here, standing in the 'Old Town Square', you have a spectacular view of the Church of Our Lady before Týn (in Czech Kostel Matky Boží před Týnem, also Týnský chrám (Týn Church) or just Týn), and the diverse architecture that dominates Prague. From the Old Town Square, we walked through the Old Jewish Quarter, past the museum of Cubism (and the only existing building constructed in the Cubist style), until we reached the Vltava River. It was here that we boarded the boat for the 45 minute river cruise- it was also the place where Nina the Tour Guide was at her best- with the hand held mic, she cruised up and down the aisle of the boat, crackin' jokes, pointing out museums, universities, the hospital and the giant Prague Metronome (again, a very cool structure, erected in 1991 in place of a demolished statue of Stalin- Amen to that!).

Once the boat docked, we wandered through the streets of Prague, stopping at a crystal shop (Nina was officially on the downward spiral here) before heading out to a local restaurant for lunch...more goulash, more beer! Following our 2 hour lunch break, we crossed over the Karlův Most- the Charles Bridge- which in my mind, was close to the highlight of the entire six hour tour- the statues that line the edges of both sides of the bridge are sensational, and the views from both sides of the bridge, along the river, and up to Prague Castle are fabulous (Sadly, Nina knew she had spent too much time in the restaurant, and wanted to race across the bridge without explaining anything about it! Ahhhh! Ah well- thankfully we had time to return, and were able to research the history and significance behind it for ourselves).

Our tour was to conclude up around Pražský hrad (Prague Castle) and St. Vitus Cathedral. Prague Castle dominates the sky line of the Czech capital like no other building- it's the world's largest medieval castle, and has towered over the city since the 9th century. The Prague skyline, for that matter, really is a remarkably harmonious ensemble of of contrasting styles, and is the product of generations of gifted architects...plus, it looks like it's haunted!! St. Vitus Cathedral is yet another wondrous Gothic creation- the exterior decor, and the interior stain glass windows are truly divine- I've never seen stain glass windows so bright, and use all the colours on the spectrum so harmoniously...and it was here that we ran out of time. Nina led us over to a look out over the city of Prague to conclude the tour. Although I was somewhat deflated from and disappointed by the tour, I was far from defeated! And that which I felt Nina failed to show us or spend enough time at, I walked back to to explore further.

From the look out over Prague, we walked back down the hill, past restaurants and through vineyards until we made it back to the Charles Bridge, where we took our sweet time to enjoy ourselves- and wander back through the streets of Praha and wear out the camera battery.

For those of you who know about my fascination with Matryoshka dolls, I was very pleased to discover that they were everywhere in Prague, and although it was like finding a needle in a haystack, I managed to find a set that were just right. My ultimate Eastern European souvenir.

Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens

It was somewhat harder than we had first thought to get from Venice to Vienna.

The people at Trent Italia were giving us peanuts, largely due to their online booking system which had crashed, and whenever we attempted to call the OBB head office in Austria, it was all in indecipherable German lingo, and to make matters worse, the line kept dropping out. Bahhhhh! This chain of events lead us to taking our chances down at the Venice bus terminal, early on the morning of the 7th of August, wishing, hoping and praying that someone would let us on a bus, and we could make it to Villach, just over the Austrian border.

So there we sat and waited in the depot, bus spotting, until an OBB bus appeared. We raced over and tried to communicate our needs, and all we could gather was that the bus was fully booked, but in the case there was a cancellation, the driver would let us on. He told us to wait at the depot for another hour until he returned. Exactly one hour later, the bus pulled in, he accepted our cash and sent us up to the top of the bus. Yessss. It became more and more apparent, as the bus edged closer and closer to the Austrian border, how fortunate we had been to get a seat at Venice- with each stop, more and more people got on, and the bus became increasingly crowded. There were altercations over who was sitting in whose seat, disgruntled children crying, and their parents ill at ease, as well as folks perched on the stair case because there were no seats left.

We stopped at a little town just before the Austrian border called Udine, where a woman and her 15 month old daughter Christene came and sat beside me (her 8 year old son had managed to get a seat, but her poor husband was sitting on the stair case). This woman, who never told me what her name was, told me that she spoke 5 different languages (her husband, who worked in International affairs spoke 8!), was an Austrian, and had been holidaying with her family in Italy- she proceeded to chew my ear off whilst sporadically breast feeding her daughter, for the next hour, as we crossed the Austrian border, and passed through the Alps. Although the conversation, and her constant questioning demanded a lot of my attention and eye contact, I still managed to get a good look at the tremendous Austrian Alps. I didn't get to say a proper good bye to this woman when our bus pulled into Villach, because as soon the bus stopped, everyone was in a mad rush to collect their baggage and make it to connecting trains.

Due to the lengthy line at the ticket booth, we missed the 3:15pm train to Vienna, and had to wait two hours for the next one. No matter- we found a cafe, 'Angebot' scrawled on the top of the sign, ate Fritz buns and looked through our cameras to pass the time.

The slow moving train ride to Vienna took a further four hours, but the views from the carriage window, as it weaved through the Austrian Alps, were spectacular. Our train, which had been delayed a further 20 minutes in Villach rolled into Vienna a bit before 10pm. When we approached the information desk, we were attended to by a rather gruff Austrian fellow who barked the Tram number we needed to take, and literally scribbled the name of the station we were to get off at, and said firmly, "You walk from there!" The transaction had evidently finished when he slammed down the map- BANG! NEXT! Geeeeeppppers.

After managing to find the tram out the front of the station, and make sure it was travelling in the right direction, we got off where we were advised to, and from what I could tell, it was the middle of nowhere. We asked some women, who appeared to be locals, if they could please point us in the right direction, but after speaking with them, I felt even more confused! And so, we hailed a taxi. You're probably thinking- pathetic- but seriously, I'm so glad we did- there's no way we would have found the place we were staying otherwise.

Being the absolute tourists we had become, we had made our way to the sight of the Viennese Opera house by 11am the following morning, to hop on a red city tour bus. The audio assisted tour took us on a fabulous trip around Vienna- past the Hofburg, the Heldenplatz, the Viennese Parliament buildings, the Rathhaus, the Burgtheatre before stopping at Hundertwasser Haus (picture below).

My former collegue, Fran Steffanoni, had told me all about Hundertwasser, and his work; she had even made a pilgramage to his former New Zealand abode in 2007. I also knew of his work, largely because of his inspiration drawn from Gaudi; and although I haven't travelled to Barcelona yet, I plan to- if for no other reason than to see his genius at work! But, Hundertwasser's work will certainly do for the meantime! The brightly and multi-coloured walls, with curved lines seperating the colours, mosaic decoration and flower pots and tress seemingly growing out of the windows and the roof tops-Glorious!

From Hundertwasser's Haus, we crossed over the Danube River (which isn't even close to being blue, just in case you were wondering), to the section of Vienna that could be viewed as the city's business district; sky scrapers, offices, factories and so on. We circled around this development for a little while before coming back over the Danube, past the Aussatellungs strabe, round the Pratersterns Amusement park, to St. Stephen's Cathedral; another gothic inspired church with magnificent steeples. On the way back to where the tour started, we drove down the Schubertring, the Johaan Strauss memorial and park lands, the Karlskirche, the Musikverein and the magnificent Opera building. When the tour concluded, I decided to wander back to the Hofburg, where the Imperial Apartments are located, and many memorial statues to Prince Eugene, and to the Mozart Memorial (below) which is close to the Hofburg.

From the Mozart Memorial, we walked through the centre of old-Vienna, filled to the brim with exquisite architecture on pristine streets and park lands, back to St. Stephen's Cathedral for closer inspection.

Given that we were catching a train to Prague at around 4:30pm that afternoon, we had to bounce from the city centre (in particular the upstairs cafe where we were eating lunch, and playing far too much James Blunt for my liking) soon after 2pm, collect our backpacks, quickly find some crisp apple strudels and sadly, leave Wein.

The Sun in It's Jewel Case

Train is such a fabulous way to travel across the country side- there's none of that flying anxiety, and you can see so much out of the window! The train ride from Florence to Venice took about two and a half hours, and with The Dark Side of the Moon playing repeatedly on my head phones, the time cruised on by.

We stopped a coupla time- first in Bologna, and finally in Maestre, before crossing to the island that is Venice. We exited the station, and came out onto the steps to see people sitting about, eating gelato, watching boats and water taxi's cruising along the canals.

I have never seen or experienced anything like Venice.
I do believe it to be the most romantic place on the planet.

After checking into our hotel, called The Merchant of Venice (which tugged on my Shakespearean heart strings), we dressed up and began to wander the Venice streets, which were lit up with candles and stalls, selling masks and parasols.

It quickly became apparent that the only traffic along the cobble stone roads was people (occasionally you would see men carrying or pushing freight carts with goods brought to the Island by boat), the rest on boats and gondolas along the canals.

After we had stopped briefly to eat, we proceeded to walk around the island to the Ponte Rialto Bridge, and looked in clothing and jewellery stores as we went. From the bridge, we had stunning views of the island, and the boats floating down the well lit water front.

The following morning, we awoke to a warm morning, and the sun was belting down as we made our way to buy a 12 hour water taxi pass. The water taxi took us, via a loop of the Grand Canal, to the Piazza San Marco. It was such a great feeling to be out on the open waters, right along side all the other boats, both big and small, and smell the fresh sea air. It took us almost an hour to reach San Marco, but it was well worth it.

Our taxi docked at the superb Palazzo Ducale, and the Basilica di San Marco came into view. The architecture and the colours are so exotic- a delicacy for the eye and mind- all the people and the heat of the sun, couldn't detract from the exquisite sight before me! We spent about an hour or so wandering around the Palazzo, through the little alley ways, and in and out of shops, before we decided to go our seperate ways- Hayley hit the shops, and I made my way to the Peggy Guggenheim Collection.

It was quite an effort to find this famous gallery- I weaved through the streets, following signs to the Ponte Accademia, which I found and crossed, and then attempted to follow the small yellow signs with arrows to try and find the collection. When I, and three other french folks found ourselves at a dead end (yet again!), we decided to ask a local for directions...smartest move yet.

In line with all that is Venice, Peggy's Collection was nothing short of exquisite brilliance. The collection included many works by Max Ernst (her former husband), Gottlieb, Dali, Pollack, Man Ray, Klee and Miro. I was utterly engrossed by 3D diorama-like-constructions by Joseph Cornell (particularly Setting for a Fairy Tale and Swiss Shoot the Chutes ) and the painting The Sun in Its Jewel case by Yves Tanguy- which I sat down on the plush, white, leather couches in Peggy's lounge room for quite sometime, staring at.

As a matter of fact, most of the collection is displayed in Peggy's former dining, lounge and bedroom, all of which either have million dollar views out into her garden or onto the Grand Canal. In a small room, adjacent to Peggy's bedroom, was the work of her daughter Pegeen, and a small tribute to her 'mysterious and untimely' death; I quite liked Pegeen's work with pastels.

There are two outside areas of the Peggy Guggenheim Collection; one outside overlooking the Grand Canal, and another is the garden. The garden is a most tranquil space, with large trees overhead, stone paths and flower beds. Here in the garden you find exhibits such as the gift from Yoko Ono- a Wish Tree-, a wall sized neon sign that reads 'Changing Place Changing Time Changing Thoughts Changing Future', as well as the resting place of Peggy, who is laid right beside the 14 dogs that were faithful companions between 1949 and 1979.


It was out in the garden that my experience on the Peggy Guggenheim Collection came to an end, and I started my trek back towards San Marco, with my head full of images and information, in a state of euphoria really. I stopped into an Antonio Vivaldi exhibition that I came upon along the way, full of antique sheet music and instruments, before leisurely wandering through the Venetian streets, photographing street signs and art/music poster bills.

Because it was our last night in Venice, and in Italy for that matter, we caught the water taxi from just near our hotel, back to the Ponte Rialto, where I purchased a red, glass heart, and found a gorgeous little restaurant on the edge of the canal for our Last [Italian] Supper. As per usual, the food was outstanding- the pasta, pane, tiramisu, proscuitto, ice-cream, chocolate spread, baci, cheese, frizzante, wine and beer that I sampled whilst in Italy was utterly superb!


Ah, the food! Molto, molto bene!

Firenze Bebe!

By noon on Monday the 3rd of August, our train had departed Rome, bound for Florence. The fast moving train flew through the sun-flower clad hills of Tuscany.

The Tuscan landscape, as you would imagine, is gorgeous- rustic farm houses, vineyards and mountains- and I managed to engage my Italian language conversation skills with a cute little old man that reminded me of an old Italian-Australian man I once knew- I don't know how proficient I actually was, but he bid me an animated farewell when I stepped off the train later that afternoon.

Not long after we'd checked in and found some late lunch, Hayley and I decided to split- she was keen to browse the shops for shoes, but I wanted to explore the markets! I followed the market stalls; past leather shops, scarf stalls, souvenir stands, wood crafts and gold plated religious icons, not to mention a plethora of hats, jewellery and sunglasses. I continued to follow the street, until it curved around the corner into a bustling street of clothing and shoe stores, restaurants and ice-cream parlours. People were spilling out onto the streets, which were lined with bicycles, eating and talking in a most lively way. There was an older man standing in the middle of the street, dressed in a waist coat, and wearing a red bow-tie, and a grin like the Cheshire cat, playing a piano accordion...ah, the ambience!

At the end of this strip, I stumbled upon the Piazza del Duomo, in which stands the Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore (see pictures above and below). I wandered around it for sometime, rediscovering all those neck muscles that I had been introduced to at St. Peter's Basilica and the Vatican museum, in awe of the Gothic inspired, marble facade of the Cathedral. We came back to it on the following day on yet another walking tour. The walking tour, like all those I'd done up until this point, was invaluable; leading us through the winding Firenze streets, past places like Casa di Dante, Casa di Buonarroti, the Cappelle Medicee and the Basilica di San Lorenzo. The tour concluded by passing the Cheisa di Saint Croce and ending up in the Palazzo Vecchio. At the conclusion of the tour, I had decided that I most certainly would return to the Piazza Duomo and the Basilica of Santa Croce, but given the lines at the Duomo, we decided to first visit something that wasn't on the walking tour, but something you simply must do whilst in Florence- and that was to visit the Accademia Art Gallery.

I had heard so much about Accademia, largely because it is home to Michelangelo's David. Unlike other galleries, which seemingly hide away their treasures, we entered into the gallery and David was immediately in sight.

David is, hands down, the single most amazing, astounding piece of art, in any medium, that I have ever seen.

I couldn't get over the height of David, and his hands and feet!
David's right hand, the hand that holds the stone, is mesmerising! I circled round and round the enormous structure, and came back to sit in front of it again for ages before we left that afternoon.

Reluctantly, we left David, and returned to the Duomo, where the line had subsided, thankfully. Compared to it's remarkable exterior, the interior of the Duomo is quite modest, but most beautiful, nonetheless. When we left the Duomo, I had to go back and charge my camera battery-yet again!- before meeting up with Hayley about an hour later in front of the carousel in the Piazza San Firenze. From here we walked along the side of the Fiume Arno River, crossed the quiant bringe, the Ponte Vecchio, and found the bus that would take us up to the Piazzale Michelangelo. Piazzale Michelangelo is located on the top of a hill, high above the city of Florence. From here, one has beautiful views of the entire city of Florence, and out onto the Tuscan Hills and pastures; certainly one of the more spectacular look outs I have visited...

On our final morning in Florence, we first organised to go and book our train ticket to Venice, which lead me to the incredible coincidence of running into a girl I worked with in Melbourne up until my move to London! Crazy! Once we purchased our ticket, I farewelled Rach, and made my way to the Piazza Santa Croce, to visit the Chiesa Santa Croce, which I had wanted to do the day before, but had run out of time. St. Croce houses works by both Donatello and Michelangelo; it is also the place of Michelangelo's and Galileo's tomb.

The church (see pictures below) has a remarkable history, having survived major flooding in 1966, and has a wonderful museum and surrounding gardens and courtyards. Sadly, we were pressed for time and I feel like I rushed my way through the church- I'd return to Florence in a heartbeat...



By noon that day, I'd collected my baggage, and had boarded a train heading north to Venice, San Lucia.

All Roads Lead To Rome

We hit the ground in Rome at around 1:30pm on a hot Thursday morning, and I was hit with the intense heat as we stepped out onto the tarmac; it felt instantly like we had stepped into the middle of an Australian summer. Without any hassles, we collected our bags, and walked straight out of customs, no passport stamp, bag check, nothing! From the Ciampano Airport, we caught a cheap bus into the centre of Rome.

Something I learnt along time ago was that it's really important to (well, at least try to) not have any expectations of a person, place or experience before meeting, visiting or involving yourself...but, having known about Rome and Italy for such a long time, and studied the Italian language for many years, I had most certainly built up a picture in my head. To be honest, as I looked out the bus window on the way in from the airport, past the vineyards, homesteads and car yards, it looked like what I imagined Spain would. Upon expressing this, I was kindly reminded that we were in fact on the edge of the Mediterranean sea, and this was a Mediterranean climate and culture... However, I would see and experience my prior visions of Rome a bit further along the track...

Once we arrived at Termini train station, we made our way to where we were staying, the Alessandro Palace, to check in and leave our luggage. Given the heat, we tried to stay cool, and laid low in the cool and dark of our hostel room til the following morning, by which time I was really anxious to get out and start exploring Rome. We started the day by walking down through the Piazza della Republica, past loads of clothes and shoe stores, when we found a little cafe, where we stopped of for a lunch of salami and bocconcini, which was delicious, and proved to be good fuel for the task ahead, because after lunch, we walked down Via Nazionale, past the Palazzo delle Esposizioni, until we reached Ancient Rome.

We walked through amazing spaces such as Mercanti Triane, Colonna Tralana, Foro Traiano, Foro di Augusto, Foro di Nerra & Foro di Cesare, and down to the Colosseum- it was so exciting to see the wall (or what's remaining of it) come into view. We decided to pay the fee to go inside, largely because the pass would allow us to visit both the Colosseum, and go into the Palatino and the Roman Forum for the next two days if we wished to. These places astounded me- the ruins are quite incredible, but also those structures that have been standing there since the time of Julius Caesar. We passed the Arco di Constantino, and out of Ancient Rome, tired and hot, with grubby feet and limbs. The experience of the Colosseum and Ancient Rome (which took over five hours to walk in 32 degrees Celsius + temperatures, was hard and tiring work, but definitely worth the toil!).

Parched and tired, and wilting like flowers in the mid afternoon sun, we pressed on, past the mind blowing structure of the 'Monumento a Vittorio Emanuele II' (see picture below) and the 'Palazzo Venezia', grabbed a pastrami sandwich, and caught the express bus back to Termini Station.

By early evening, we needed to re-hydrate and sleep, and found another restaurant close by, called 'Mamma Angela's' for pane, wine, lasagna and tiramisu, before crashing out at the Alessandro Palace. We had agreed to venture to the Vatican City early the next morning, and so we caught the Rome Metro train to Ottaviano station, which is only a stone's through from the Vatican City. Our first stop was Basilica Saint Pietro (St. Peter's Basilica- see picture below), which was a sight to behold!

We spent some time wandering about the square- the day was hot already, and the skies were clear blue; excellent conditions for taking lots of pictures! The line to get into the Basilica was nowhere near as long as we had anticipated, and within 10 minutes, we had walked through the front doors. I was almost bowled over when I walked in, which I imagine is the desired affect- the domes, the ceilings, the artwork, and the interior design is astounding. I was quick to notice Michelangelo's La Pieta (1499), which was standing behind a glass wall to the right of the main entrance (she picture below); but I decided to walk around the Basilica in an anti-clock wise direction, and return to the sculpture at the end of my self-guided tour.

From ceiling to floor, the Basilica's design and detail was decadent and excessive in every way; every tile, every painting, angel, sculpture, lead-light window, altar...so much to absorb. We entered into the sacred prayer room, and sat before the glorious, bronzed angels, and amongst nuns lying stretched out on the floor.

After stopping for sometime in front of La Pieta, we exited the Basilica, and walked out through the square, past the fountains and the sculptures, and over to the Vatican museum. Again, many had forecast a four hour long line to get in, and beggars waiting at the doors; but I experienced none of this, and walked straight in...and a line, a great wait, never appeared.

Walking though the the Vatican Museum, looking at the ceiling, through incredible rooms and passage ways, I tried to assure my poor little brain that it was okay to not be able to process and comprehend all the information before it! But I did the best I could- I particularly loved the Raphael's Room of Constantine. You could sense the anticipation building the closer you came to the Sistine Chapel...and I was overcome, I must say, by that amazing space! The height of the ceilings, the quality of the work, the sheer grandness, the mystique, the history, they story... my oh my! I sat on the seats along the sides of the Chapel, and stared up at The Creation of Adam and Delphica for a long time.

On the way out of the Sistene Chapel, we walked through the Basilica's crypts, past St. Peter's Tomb and Pope John Paul II's Tomb, where people had gathered and laid flowers and wreaths, until we made it back out onto the square, from where we walked down and around the Castel Sant'Angelo.

We wandered along the banks of Tiber River (Fiume Tevere), through the market stalls, filled with jewellery, leather, and vintage clothing, books and records stalls, and past the spectacular Ponte Sant Angelo, lined with majestic Angel sculptures, until we reached the Piazza del Tribunali- a superb structure, depite all the scaffolding. Not long after this, we decided to head back to the hostel, to charge our camera batteries, and escape the heat of the day.

By early evening, we were ready to head back out again, and decided that we would head to the Colosseum to see it by night, via the Spanish steps and the Trevi Fountain (see picture below). Both the Spanish steps and the Trevi Fountain were swarming with people, and the spray of the water coming from Trevi was tempting me to leap in...

We stopped close by the Trevi fountain for dinner (a little place with red and white checked table cloths and all!), before training it over to the Colosseum. In the night sky, the Colosseum boomed! There were many folks, gathered at the base, and there was a definite ambiance about the ancient place. We stayed there for a while, trying to get the best shot we could- could've stayed there all night I guess.

The following day was Sunday, and it was elected as a day of rest, of shopping and for me...food! Sampling bits and pieces from delicatessens and cafes I'd been eyeing off, but hadn't made it into...forget the architecture, the history...the food in Rome, my Lord, the food!

And then it was time for Florence.

Ticket to Ride

Mrs. Peacock: Ah, well, if you'll excuse me, I have to, ah, um, is there a little girls room in the hall?

Yvette: Oui, Oui, madam.

Mrs. Peacock: No, I just want to powder my nose, thank you.

On the Monday after we returned from Ireland, I boarded a late afternoon Eurostar train, bound for Paris, solo mish. My stomach was a bundle of nerves, which I think was a result of the lingering stress from the Cork Airport incident the night before, or maybe just anxiety that I would not be able to find the right place or make the train on time...but, I managed to make the train on time, and made it into the Gare du Nord station in the centre of Paris with no problems at all.

Hayley (an old high school friend) and I had decided to meet at the Tourist Information Office on the south west side of the station, but she had changed her mind, and having been there a day earlier than me, she came and greeted me at the Eurostar arrivals gate- for which I was most grateful! We jumped onto the Paris metro train line, and headed to St. Christopher's Inn- a hostel chain I will forever recommend (see ACR May posts Hiyas and Hellos & Like A Rolling Stone).

The room we checked into was clean, spacious and secure, and soon after I had thrown the backpack into the security draws beneath the bed, we headed to the bar downstairs for chardonnay and chatter til we were both exhausted and needed to expire. I arose quite early the following morning, up and at 'em, ready to check out Pareee.

Courtesy of a brochure we located in the hostel lobby, we discovered a free walking tour of the city which was to take approximately 3 and a half hours, and according to the Lonely Planet Europe Guide ...the best introduction to the city is a free tour... we decided this to be a good option. At 11 am, we met our tour guides out the front of the historical fountain on the Boulevard Saint-Michel, and this was where our tour of Paris commenced. From the fountain, we crossed over the Bridge de Palais, which presented a great view of Notre Dame, and the River Seine. It was at this point that our tour guide told us of how Victor Hugo's novel, most commonly known as The Hunchback of Notre Dame symbolically tells the story of how the people of Paris despised the church and wanted into be demolished. Must read, must read. Add to list.

As we crossed the bridge, we passed by the Conciergerie Palais De Justice (complete with bullet holes- scars from WW II), and then turned left down the Quai de Lourve~Quai Ceelestins to the Pont Neuf (the oldest bridge in Paris to cross the Seine). Here the tour guide told us stories of Viking Invasions, and how the Parisians warded them off with giant, criss-crossed chains over the Seine. We then crossed back to the other side of the river, and walked along the Quai de Conti until we reached the 'Carrie & Big Bridge' (!), which we crossed over again (lots of bridges, lots of crossing, oui!), over to the Musee du Lourve. We walked through the square, past the buildings, out through the Place du Carrousel and through the gorgeous Jardin Du Tuileries. The gardens were alive with folks enjoying the summertime sun, sitting on chairs around fountain pools (some even with ducks!) dipping their feet in to keep themselves cool.

From the Jardin du Tuileries, we walked through the Obelisque, where we had a view of the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe from the end of the Champs Elyees. Our tour concluded right by the Petit Palais and the Grand Palais. Our guide completed the tour with stories of the French- German connection during WW II, and how Hilter decided that he didn't want to be known throughout History as the man who destroyed Paris (he obviously preferred to be remebered as the man who killed over 8 million jews! Go figure!), and as a result is still standing in all it's splendor to this very day. Given how close we were to the Eiffel Tower, we decided to cross the bridge Pont Alexandre III, and walk along the Quai D'Oray and the the Quai Branly until we reached the famous tower. The base below the tower was swarming with people, enjoying the glorious sunshine and the bright blue skies. There were street performers, buskers and ice-cream stalls a-plenty- I purchased an ice-cream, and moved to the long rectangular lawns to devour it and admire the tower...I had no intentions of climbing it whatsoever, mind you. It looks just lovely from the lawn!

We ended up spending about an hour on there on the grass, before heading back to Crimee. Hayley decided to rest for a bit, whereas I decided to walk down along the bank of the nearby canal, were there was a carnival happening- al fresco bars, faux-beaches, rock and roll dancing, giant swings, rows of fuse ball tables, clowns playing trumpets, games of bocci going on and poetry being receited. There were also these large steel structures fitted with what looked like metal punching bags omitting mist and many people, including yours truly, were running through to cool down a bit!

By the time I made it back to the hostel, Hayley and I were ready to eat, and so we headed out into our local 'hood to russle up some grub. We found a little restaurant on a side street, which served escargot, and I was sold immediately! I was quick to order a plate of the garden crustaceans, which had been sauteed in garlic and other herbs, and were absolutely delicious!! Seriously good eating... It was tricky at first to work out how to hold the shell with the tongs and fish out the escargot with my little fork- but I managed, don't you worry! Well, when in France, right? My travelling partner was utterly disgusted, to say the least! :) Hmmm, now for some frog's legs...

The following day I had decided to devote first and foremostly to the Musee Du Louvre. I had been expecting the lines to be so much longer than they actually were, but our tour guide from the previous day had been correct- as a result of the GFC, there were two-thirds less tourists than at the same time last year, and we spent no time getting in. After looking at the floor plan, I decided it would be best to focus on the second floor first, and make my way through the French and Dutch paintings, prints and drawings. Painters of note were Eugene Delacriox, and of course, Rubens- the Rubens Room was my most favourite in this section for sure.

After this, we made out way down to the first floor- the ceiling detail, paiting and wall paper were amazing, especially in the Apollo Gallery, which featured the Coronation Crown of Louis XV. From here, I made my way past the sculpture of the Winged Victory of Samothrace and through a corridor containing Italian paintings from the 13th -15th Century, until we reached the section which held the Mona Lisa. Again, due to the lack of tourists, it wasn't difficult at all to make it to the front of the viewing rails, and get a view of the famous paiting. I stood and looked at it for quite a while, entranced at first by her eyes and smile, and then by the mountains ranges and winding roads featured in the background. It was quite sensational to be standing before Leonardo's great masterpiece.

When I finally tore my eyes away from the Mona Lisa, Hayley and I decided to do our own thing for the next hour or so, and so I went to check out The Wedding Feast at Cana by Veronese, and then down to the ground floor to view sculptures such as the Venus de Milo (sadly, the section in which sweet Venus is housed was closed for renovations of something! Bah!), Michelangelo's The Dying Slave, and my favourite, A Canova's Psyche & Cupid.

Finally, I descended to the Museum's lower ground floor, and viewed the Mary Magdalene sculpture (G. Erhart) and then wandered through the History of the Louvre sections. I feel as though I've barely scratched the surface of the material housed within that phenominal space, and hope to return in the not too distant future for round two. Nevertheless, we'd had quite a stint there that day, and decided to move out, back over the bridge Pont Carousel, and walk down the Quai de Conti to Notre Dame.

It was free to enter Notre Dame, and it was rather beautiful on the inside, although dark in many corners...I suspect they were trying to cover up the fact that many areas were in need of fixing up a little. It was funny however to hear the "Shhhhhhhh!" announcement come over the church's PA system. Given the large line, we decided to pass on climbing to the top, and went back to the hostel for a bit before making our way up to Blanch station, to commence a walking tour of the Montmarte District.

When coming out of Blanch station, we found ourselves in the middle of the Moulin Rouge district. It's a really cool part of Paris up there- whilst buying and eating a crepe from a stall in the Moulin Rogue, we chatted to this fellow who informed us that the area is full of French celebrities... whom I have no clue about at all! As it turned out, rather than taking the walking tour as we had intially planned, we decided to jump on a little train cart, that chugged along the Montmarte streets, up the hills, and around the trendy little shopping strrips, restaurants and cafes, until we reached the church on the top of Butte Montmarte- the church of the Sacre-Coeur.

The Sacre Coeur is a 19th century, neo-Byzantine style church, which overlooks the city of Paris, and the views from up there are amazing! When we walked inside, I was almost bowled over by the massive, sparkling image of Christ on the ceiling. It is absolutely captivating and awe inspiring. Just as we had entered the church, a mass commenced, and so we literally pulled up a pew! Following mass, we walked around the church, which was far superior in beauty to Notre Dame (in my mind anyway), and Hayley decided that she wanted to climb the tower, whereas I went down into the crypts below the church. It was quite a strange and eery experience down there- it was dark and the air was really heavy on my lungs, and being amongst tombs of former priests, bishops and collections of their personal posessions really gave me the creeps. Needless to say, I didn't spend long down there, and soon came up for air and peace of mind.

Hayley came and found me on the Sacre-Coeur steps, and it wasn't long til the little train chugged by again, getting ready to creep back down Butte Montmarte, and we jumped back on and head back to Blanch. From Blanch we caught the train to Charles de Gaulle E'Toile station (because of it's proximity to the Arc du Triomphe, the Champs Elysees and the Eiffel Tower) so that we could see Paris by night. We watched the sunset from the Arc du Triomphe, and it was cool to see the whole thing light up- I managed to pick up some great colours on my camera during twilight. From the Arc, we strolled down the Champs Elysees, which was alive with people, sitting out in the street cafes, bars and restaurants, and window shopping in Louis Vitton and Cartier. Once we had made it to the end of the Champs Elysees, our plan was to make it across to the Eiffel Tower by 11pm to see the light show- after under estimating the distance and the time that it would take to make it there, we made it with only minutes to spare- and despite all the local's disdain for all the lights and actions every hour on the hour (Hideous!), it was nice to be there, and to hear the cheer go up from the base and from the top, and on all the levels in between the tower.

Thankfully, the Paris Metro train system runs quite late, and we made it back to our hostel before 1am...which was handy, as we were bound for Rome later that morning.

Home in the Heartland

High in the sky

Through the clouds and rain

Every familiar field

Seems like an old friend

When every hand that you shake

Is like a warm embrace

Could only be one sweet place

Home and the Heartland.

Sing out your songs

And ring out your stories and rhymes

Weave from your dreams

The mystical dances that lead us to

Bind in heart and mind.

As we circle the world

With our wandering airs

Gathering here and there

Leaving behind our share

Like the leaves in the wind

They are blown along

Melodies rising from

Home and the Heartland.

On the morning of July 24th, Caitlin and I awoke in our house in Battersea at around 3am, in order to catch a 3.30am taxi to the bus stop at Victoria Station. Our bus left at 4.02 am, and we travelled out to Stanstead Airport to make our flight to Cork, Tipperary, Ireland.

The bus ride took close to and hour and a half, but we managed to make it onto our RyanAir flight with time to spare. The plane ride was smooth sailing and, and we had landed and cleared Irish customs by about a quarter to 8. It was so beautiful flying in to Ireland, seeing all the emerald green fields, and the high, rugged cliffs on the edge of the sea. When we landed in the crisp morning air, and stepped out onto the tarmack, I felt an emotional Celtic-pang, you might say.

After some minor dramas collecting the hire car, and then making it drive properly (beware the reverse gear! Tricky!), we headed into Cork to look about the place. It is hard not to be taken by the immense green and the rolling hills as you drive into the city of Cork, and the city itself reminded me somewhat of cities in Victoria, Australia, that were settled at the time of the gold rush, but then also of Hobart, with the ships and the port on the River Lee, and the houses and shanties looking down over the water. I parked the car in Merchant Quay, and started to walk around the Cork streets- I loved the bright coloured walls of the stone houses that lined the river, and the quaint little brigdes that crossed it. We made to St. Finn Barrès Anglican Cathedral; the cathedral and it's surrounding gardens were high up on a hill overlooking Cork. From here we could see many houses and ships, and people making their way through the narrow little streets.

After a couple of hours in Cork, we decided to head to the town of Blarney, which is very close to Cork, and visit the Blarney Castle- it was quite an adventure just making our way out of the town (it was as though we had to do a completed circle of the city to get on the road out, even though we were back at the place where we had to turn to begin with! No logic! Very Irish!)- but it was so worth it! Hills, fresian cows and the heavy purple clouds juxtaposed with the bright green pastures made for a magnificent view of the horizon. We arrived at the Blarney Castle just as the heavens opened up, and we had to sit in the car for about ten minutes, waiting for the storm to pass.

Upon entering the Blarney Castle gardens, there was a trio of young female muscians playing flutes and violins, and it was so gorgeous- made me want to start Riverdancing! Lucky for everyone I maintained some self control and got a grip of my Lovely Leggy Moira alter ego!

The Castle itself is a remarkable structure- it astounds me how old it is, and I couldn't help but think about the people who lived there once upon a time. We started by looking in the dungeon, which really gave me the heeby-geebys, and decided not to enter too far down the formidable staircase...quite close by was an ancient watchtower, and we marvelled at the holes in the stone wall where the wooden stair case would've once been, and then wandered past the 'front facing facade' of the castle. We walked inside, and started to ascend the staircase, past the various castle rooms, and with each level we passed, the stair case became narrower and steeper, and one needed to clasp the thick rope to pull oneself up the stairs. Exercising extreme caution, we made it out onto the roof of the castle, which presented a stunnning view over the town of Blarney, and out over the Tipperary country side.

People were lining up- men, women and children- to kiss the famous Blarney Stone (purpose being, apart from saying that you did it, to increase/improve one's eloquence!) and to be honest, it looked a lot more complex and more frightening than I had imagined, and with Caitlin's vertigo in full force, we decided to make our way propmtly back down the exit steps (which were far less daunting that the ones we came up on!).

We walked around the Castle's surrounding gardens, and explored the druid ruins. It was sublime walking through the gardens and the ruins, past waterfalls and plants with the biggest, greenest leaves I've ever seen! It was a most magical space...I didn't see any faeries...but I felt their prescence!

By around 2pm, we thought it best to get on the road to Clonmel (which was then delayed slightly when I took a turn town a wrong exit and spend 20 mintutes reversing the hire car out of this narrow, painstaking driveway...Irish!! I could hear the leprachauns laughing to be sure!), which required going back to the centre of Cork, and then on the N20 towards Waterford. There were patches of rain here and there, but the gloominess did not take away from the scenary- the music on the radio was superb too- lots (actually most) of the tunes were 90s numbers- I nearly died and went to heaven when The Cranberries Dreams came on!

I followed the freeway until we reached the Clonmel turn-off, which took us on a scenic tour of the Irish countryside- and I was in bewildered awe of it's beauty! The natural beauty that I so love. Clonmel, Cashel and Tipperary is the land of my Ryan and O'Dwyer forebears, and I felt strong lineage pangs as we passed through the hills, and approached Clonmel. Just before we reached Clonmel, we stopped at a little village along the way, to use the loos and to sample pear cider in the exact district were Bullmers and Magners is made, and it was, as I suspected, delicious!

A bit after 5 o'clock, we rolled into the township of Clonmel, and found a quaint little pub to ask for directions to our B&B. The very friendly Irish lass behind the bar asked where we had parked, to which we answered the River Suir, and the directions she gave us were "Drive a straight line, go round a semi-circle, come to a T intersection, turn left, follow it, then take a narrow road up a hill"...no mention of street names, traffic lights, landmarks, what have you...(Irish!) but the instructions worked, and there, sure enough was Hillcourt B&B.

We were greeted at the door by the proprietor, this gorgeous little man who spoke Leprechaun at about a thousand miles an hour, who fed us freshly baked currant scones and served us hot black tea, and told us how nice it was to see our bright smiling faces! He said "Angela Ryan" a couple of times, shaking his head, and laughing to himself, and told us we were certainly in Ryan country, and invited us to watch the tele in his lounge- but of course, we decided to head into town for a Guiness.

There are so many pubs in Clonmel, let alone in the Republic of Ireland, and we wandered 'round the street, looking for a place to have a drink, and some cheap grub, and we decided to return to the place where we had asked for directions earlier that evening, and as I ordered a pint of Guiness for Caitlin and myself, there we saw (and the only other folks in the pub, mind you) four of my father's siblings, their partners, and my cousin Matt! Uncanny, I tells you...of all the pubs in all the town....We drank with them for a while, before heading to another pub to check out some Irish music, but this didn't last long- we were all exhausted, and needed to head home for the wedding the following day.

The proprietor of the B&B had asked us if we had wanted a cooked Irish breakfast the following morning before we had headed out for our Guiness, and if so, what time we were wanting to eat. Of course we said yes, and as a result were up and in the Hillcourt dining room around 8am, where we were served with a traditional Irish breakfast of cripsy bacon, fried potato and tomato, an egg, pork sausages as well as black and white pudding, with tea and orange juice on the side! It was truly scrum-diddily- and the proprietor assured us that our great-grandfather would have eaten this!

Following breakfast, we decided to make a dent in the unlimited millage on the hire car, and drive to the town of Waterford for a look about before the wedding. During the drive, we saw beautiful green hills, like the one's I love in Gippsland, and I felt very much at home in this part of the world- the scenary felt really familiar and comforting.

We drove through cute little villages, such as Mooncoin, and past a series of Castles and ruins. Waterford smelt of Guiness and the sea, and I was sad that we only had the chance to drive around for a little while before it was time to return to Clonmel, to get ready for the wedding in Kilsheelan at 2pm.

Kilsheelan is only about a 15 minute drive or so from the centre of Clonmel, and we found the beautiful blue stone church up on top of a hill without too much trouble at all. My first cousin Steve and his gorgeous bride Maria couldn't have chosen a more beautiful place to have been married- the church, the service and the surrounds were glorious. Following the reception, the Ryan and the Denton families gathered at the castle that my aunt, uncle and cousins (along with their partners and children) were staying at whilst in Ireland, for some pre-reception drinks, photographs, joke telling and much laughter. Caitlin and I drove to the reception with Steve's cousin Alice, where soon after champagne, we ate our three course meal (including fried mushrooms, vegetable soup, roast beef and vegetables as well as mashed and roasted potatoes! Of course!), listened to speeches and danced the night away...it was an incredible celebration, and am so glad that I was able to be a part of it!

We had left Clonmel by 11am the following morning, and decided to drive to the actual township of Tipperary, before taking the trip back to Cork. The drive was like nothing else I have known- the mountain range only kilometres from the centre of town, took my breath away. In the town of Tipperary, the names Ryan and O Dwyer -my grandmothers maiden name- were at the top of each music store, shopping centre and pub, and I felt I had returned home. Its a feeling I find hard to articulate, but whatever it was, I felt it from my eyeballs to my little toe nail.

The drive back to Cork meant many winding roads, quaint villages and castles along the way- my favourite definately being the Lismore Castle- I wish I-d had more time to spend there, and a place to which I will most certainly return! We arrived in Cork with plenty of time to spare, returned the hire car keys, and ordered a Guiness in the airport bar...and if the whole darn visa stamping issue had never have happened when we went to board the plane (meaning a delayed flight, 262 euro each flushed down the proverbial toilet, and a 2.30 am arrival home in London...oh so very painful), it would have been the best trip ever!

Ireland Forever x

Black [and white] Hearts in Battersea

Guess who got herself a camera, then?

Banksy Exhibition

Vegetarian Cuisine with Delphine the Lizard Queen

Delphine and I met up at Oxford Circus tube station today, and made our way to a cute little vegetarian cafe in Soho called Mrs. Marengo's for lunch. I ordered the Bean Burrito, Delphine the Burger of the Day, and we shared a pot of tea and a table, because the place was so busy. Although we didn't actually eat the fruit pavlova, we certainly eyed it off...

After lunch we bounced down to Broadwick Street, and checked out vinyl stores specialising in Dub-step, Hip-Hop as well as vintage funk, rock and reggae. So many possibilities, so little £.

Following a failed mission in search of a Soy-Chai Latte, we settled for coffee, and planned to make a mini-video of us doing a wee Irish jig, which sadly slipped our minds...but there will be other opportunities no doubt.

Then, full as googs, we headed to Russell street, Covent Garden without getting run over, to check out a Banksy Exhibition, which was da shiz.

We concluded our afternoon wandering around the Convent Garden markets, dodging the tourist groups flocking to see street performers in the square below the Punch and Judy bar.

Sweet day :)