NICE – France (Fri 18 Sept)

We woke this morning to showers. Fortunately the showers didn’t last long, but unfortunately the showers turned into big fat rain, with lots of thunder and lightning on the side. This was a shame because today we were driving eastward along the beautiful French Riviera coastline, or so we have been told. We didn’t get to see much of it through the rain, although we did have the lightning regularly illuminating our way. So much for the ‘sun, sun, sun’. Before we knew it we were in Italy … again. Getting reacquainted with some of our old friends … well they must have been friends because they spent a lot of time tooting and giving us the fingers. Very friendly folk.

We drove as far as San Remo on a little mission that we had. We have been buying fridge magnets at each of the counties that we have visited as mementos, but we missed a couple of countries before we thought this would be a good idea, and Italy was one of them. So our mission was to duck into Italy and buy a fridge magnet, it will take no more than five minutes … or so you would think. We spent half a day looking for that little puppy. When we were in Italy the first time, we were tripping over them, now we are looking for one there are none to be found. In fact there are no souvenir shops at all to be found. Surprising since this is a tourist spot.

What we did see, and realized that we hadn’t seen since the last time we were here was the touts. A tourist bus pull up and it suddenly gets swarmed by touts selling umbrellas for the rain. They appear like vultures out from nowhere. It was funny to watch. Their usual practice is to put up an umbrella and push it into the hand of the unsuspecting, and then demand money. One dithery looking older gentleman accepted the umbrella and then did a runner with the salesman in hot pursuit. He managed to make it to the shelter of the buildings before handing it back, and no sale. Well done! Don’t knock the aged. It is good to see someone get away with something like this, when you see these touts buying umbrellas for 2 Euro and then stepping outside the shop and flogging them off to the unsuspecting for 8-10 euro.

What we did notice in San Remo was the number of bottle stores in San Remo. Our suspicion was that alcohol is cheaper in Italy than in France, and this was confirmed when we crossed the border back into France. The footpaths were packed with people walking the few meters across the border and then walking back with trolley loads of wine beer and spirits.

The trip back to Villeneuve-Loubet from the border wasn’t so much a series of towns as one big city along the coast, with the various towns just like suburbs of that city. Somewhere along the way we entered Monaco. This is one amazing country. We learnt a couple of things here; you can never have too much botox, you can never have too much money, and you can never be too thin (unless you are a very wealthy male and then you can be as rotund as you like). This is one very plastic society, totally artificial. Out side the casino was an endless stream of Maseratis, Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Aston Martins, Mercedes, etc, etc. The preferred colour being black. It is ‘Classic Week’ this week which seems to have created a bit of excitement with old square rig boats, sailing exhibitions and races, etc. As far as the shopping goes it appeared that nothing was marked with a price, and we suspect that they believe in the ‘if you have to ask, you can’t afford’ policy. Unfortunately our wallets weren’t quite big enough to buy some of the very cool things that we saw.

Despite the size of Monaco (1.9 sq km) it is surprising how many people mange to squeeze in there, how many grand old buildings, and still how they still manage to fit in a park with wonderful palm trees and fountains. Monaco has the highest concentration of plainclothes policemen, and the highest concentration of surveillance cameras. The Grand Casino was built by Charles III in 1856 to save himself from bankruptcy. It turned out to be so successful that in 1870 he abolished taxation for the people of Monaco. Wouldn’t it be a bit of a downer if you lived in France and your next door neighbour who lived in Monaco didn’t pay any tax?!

NICE – France (Thurs 17 Sept)

Today we headed to Nice, or at least we thought we did. Right from the start we were traveling through very picturesque, mountainous countryside, driving through the mists of low cloud. Trees all around, and then the trees thinned out only to be replaced with rock, and gorges. The rock faces are amazing, rising up high above us, often times forming ridges like steep vertical spines of a reptile stretching from the peaks above, to hundreds of meters below on the floor of the gorge. There are rock faces that have obviously been pushed and pulled by nature, giving the strata lines the most interesting shapes, curves and twists. Many of these high, seemingly inaccessible ridges and peaks there are fortifications from days of old, which makes you wonder who was living here and from whom were they protecting themselves. This would be the most amazing area for any geology student, such a vast collection of geographical examples right before your eyes.

We passed through numerous small villages that seemed to be ghost towns with no sign of life at all, the exception was one very elderly woman sitting patiently in her car at the gas station. It made us wonder if she was waiting to be served, and exactly how long she had been waiting.

We zig-zagged our way up one incline through a continuous series of hairpin bends, only to wind our way back down and then up the next one, and so the trip progressed. From one of the peaks we looked down into the valley where there was a small town with a huge rock overshadowing it. To say it is a ‘rock’ is an understatement. It is a huge block of stone with vertical sides rising several hundred meters above the residents. On the apex of the rock is a small stone church, with not much room to spare. When down in the village the first question is, how do you get up there? and the second is why is it there? But it looks very cool, especially against the perfectly blue sky that we are finding the further south we go. It is hard to image that over the last few days we have been dealing with rain, showers and low cloud.

Finally from one of the peaks we saw the sea, and realized that we hadn’t seen the sea since we had left Denmark all those weeks ago, and we have missed it. But this sea looks a little warmer, after all we are now heading into the French Riviera and the sun drenched coastline of the Cote d’Azur.

The closer we got to Nice the more crowded the roads became and the driving behaviour started to show a strong Italian influence. It was a little crazy, but not by Naples standards, they still hold the record in our books.

It was about now that we realized that the hotel that we had booked in Nice, wasn’t in Nice at all, but in Villeneuve-Loubet 14kms away, and it isn’t so much a hotel as a hostel. We are just a stones throw away from the beach, that is providing you have a strong arm and can throw a stone over the railway track.

After spending seven and a half hours getting here, we didn’t get to see much of this place tonight, but we did end the day on an interesting note. We went to the local Italian joint for a pizza (cheap and cheerful) and we were not only served by a very large guy of seemingly African origins, but when he found out we were from NZ he treated us to his version of the haka a’la the All Blacks. How’s that for a cultural mix. We proceeded on to have an interesting conversation somehow bridging the language divide as best we could. The main emphasis of his conversation was that all they have here is “sun, sun, sun, all year.”

Regarding the language divide, we still haven’t got used to the most common response to the question “Parlez-vous anglais?” The immediate response is a very definite “Non!” But despite this they still understand exactly what you are saying, especially if it is regarding the price of something. Perhaps that is where they get their reputation from, it is the emphatic response. But so far we have had no real problems conversing either verbally or non verbally.

GRENOBLE – France (Wed 16 Sept)

We woke this morning to showers of rain, but decided nevertheless that we needed to have a look around this city before we left. We started by walking around the lake edge and then back through the old part of town. There wasn’t much happening on the lake today, we are guessing that it is just too cold, although there were a couple of hardy souls just a few meters off shore in their boat fishing.

The old part of town makes for an interesting wander. Lots of little alleyways and backstreets that you stumble into before you realize that they are there. Quite a few canals which although plentiful, are shallow and provide a perfect home for the swans and ducks. Each of the canal bridges are lined with flowerpots, in fact they seem to like to adorn every available space with a flower pot or two, which provides a pleasant bit of colour to the medieval buildings, many of which look like they could do with a bit of a scrub up.

We have often wondered what it is like to live in these houses with their doorsteps sitting in the canal. The impression is that they look like they would be very damp and cold in winter, and judging by the weather over the last few days, the winters here are very cold.

By the time we had perused around, the sun had decided to make an appearance, and we wished we had taken our cameras along, but the sun’s enthusiasm was short lived.

By early afternoon, there was more life on the water, with what appeared to be school kids taking to the water sailing and rowing. We also saw them heading for the tennis courts, which made us think that perhaps the kids do half days here.

By mid afternoon we were ready to head for our destination for the night, Grenoble, about a two hour drive away. We are still in the alps and this was evident in the huge massifs of rock pushed up on either side of us. Very dramatic, and very impressive. The traffic in Grenoble slowed us down to a crawl as soon as we came within screaming distance. This didn’t help our mission to find somewhere to sleep for the night. Our first stop after the crawl through the traffic was the information centre, who despite their pleasant disposition, were unable to help us as their computer system had crashed. So it was back on the road. We have no idea what is happening in this town, but the first three hotels/hostels that we called into were full, but finally we hit the jackpot. WooHoo! We have a bed to sleep in.

What we have noticed throughout our travels, is that even at the cheapest accommodation, the carparks still house an array of late model BMWs, Porsches, and Mercedes owned by the customers. It makes you wonder if it was like this five years ago, or whether the recession means that even the wealthy are going ‘budget’. It makes harder for people like us to find the cheap places to stay.

The place that we are staying in is called F1 and is very formulaic. Bathrooms and toilets are complete molded plastic easy care contraptions, with all the fittings part of the mold. Everything about this place is automated and shouts, easy clean, easy maintenance. Their philosophy is ‘Paying twice the price doesn’t mean you’ll sleep twice as nice’. Although it is very impersonal, it does agree with what we have talked about at times, that it seems a shame to stay in some places when you only spend a few hours there sleeping and don’t get to take advantage of their facilities. Although we wouldn’t want to stay at these places all of the time. Despite this we have booked ahead to stay at another of their chains in Nice. At least we know what we will be getting.

ANNECY – France (Tues 15 Sept)

We woke this morning to cold and showery weather, which was a shame as we were heading into the mountains today and the visibility isn’t that great. But not to be deterred we drove to Chamonix, which is described as the town where the serious alpine action kicks in. As we got closer we were treated to the sight of mountain after mountain, cumulating in the sight of Mont Blanc (4810m) briefly emerging from the clouds, not far in front of us. What a fantastic sight.

Our aim in Chamonix was to get a ride on ‘the most terrifying cable car in the world’ up to a peak which sits at 3842m. This is a ride that isn’t recommended for young children, or those ‘sensitive to heights’. But the rubbish weather put a dampener on that, so we took the tram and the cable car up to the ice caves instead. The tram is an old rack and pinion track that has been operating for the last 100 years, and takes you up to ‘Montenvers Mer de Glace’ (Sea of Ice) at 1913m. We then got the cable car down to the ice caves. From the bottom of the cable car it is then another 300 steps (approx) down to the caves themselves.

As you descend the steps, you pass markers, marking the height of the glacier at various times. The first one we passed was 1980, at about 100 metres above its current level. The first reaction is ‘Global Warming’. But then you wonder is this just nature taking its course, is this what would happen over time anyway, is this just the evidence of the tail end of the ice age? Who really knows, and certainly not an argument that we are going to enter into. Interesting though.

The Glacier is 14 km long, 1.800 km wide, up to 400m thick, and has a surface area of about. It moves at a rate of 45m per year on the sides and 90m per year in the centre. It is the second largest glacier in the alps. In spring every year (February) they start carving a new ice cave and this takes about three months. As you enter the cave you can look downhill and see the previous caves that have moved with the glacier. Inside it is a very cool -5 degrees, but also very cool. There are different rooms carved out and the whole passage is lit up with various colours creating an amazing atmosphere, being surrounded by ice that is thousands of years old. If you are really keen, you can get you photo taken with a Saint Bernard inside one of the side caves.

What did surprise us was the amount of rock debris there was on top of the glacier, but after all it is now the end of summer, I guess much of it gets pushed down with the winter snows. However thinking hypothetically; with that much debris coming down from the mountains through out the world, and considering that rocks don’t regenerate themselves, will the valleys eventually fill up, the peaks become lower and the world eventually become flat (spherically)?

On our way back out, the cable car was out of action due to the wind, so it was a 30 minute uphill trek to the top to catch the tram. We were almost at the top when we saw the final marker, the year 1890. When this glacier was first discovered, it really must have been an amazing sight. A huge river of ice, frozen in time, pouring down the mountain filling the whole valley and reaching right down to the valley floor. There are old photos and paintings that show it like this. You can understand why they called it the ‘Sea of Ice’.

After a quick coffee to warm up, we were back on the tram, joined by a large group of French Army guys who had obviously been doing some training exercises in the mountains. It looked like they had been doing some serious climbing. What a great job to have.

Driving back through the towns and villages, the only interruption was the regular traffic islands which they seem to favour in this part of the world, many of which have several carparks, or garden sheds and wood sheds, planted in the middle of them. It shows what a premium, flat land is.

ANNECY – France (Mon 14 Sept)

We left Lyon today and headed for Annecy through the Jura region to Geneva as a stopover. We were traveling through winding, narrow, hilly roads, remembering that it was through this rugged terrain that the Resistance smuggled people out and into Switzerland. Many of the small towns and villages had white monuments to commemorate this fact, but the most impressive of these was in Cerdon. As you drive around another hairpin bend, you are confronted with a huge white monument that appears to be growing out of the hillside, it is a monument to the Resistance and the Marquis. To the left of its base there are 90 simple crosses mounted on plain granite slabs. Many of the headstones have the inscription ‘unknown’. A rough downhill track will take you to the village of Cerdon and another graveyard with 700 occupants. From what we could ascertain, this path is part of the part that formed the route to Switzerland.

While we were there a kindly old French gentleman tried to engage us in conversation. What we have found with the French is that as soon as they hear you utter the few French words that you do know, they get so excited that they carry on talking at full speed without a pause, leaving you standing there with that blank look that comes from total ignorance. And this kindly gentleman was no exception. We really did wish our French was better, so that we would know what he was talking about. Did he live nearby? If not, did he have a reason for being there, a connection? Did he have a story to tell? It is at times like this that you really do feel that you are missing out on something.

From here we carried on to Geneva. Once you get through the traffic going in and out, this is a great city. It doesn’t seem like Switzerland at all, in fact according to what we read 40% of the population here aren’t Swiss. Maybe that is why they are all so nice. They have a saying ‘Geneva belongs not so much to Switzerland as to the world’ which is not surprising when it is the home of UN, WHO, Red Cross, etc.

Like we said, once we got through the traffic, our first impression of Geneva was ‘Free Parking!’ We couldn’t believe it. That was a first for Switzerland for us, even the smallest of villages with paddock loads of space, charge for parking, so naturally we wondered if we were in the right place. Our second impression was that Geneva had closed for the day. It was Monday and everything seemed to be closed, or certainly very quiet. But then perhaps it was just because it was a good day to stay indoors. It was very cold and the wind off the lake was blowing right through you.

We were looking forward to seeing the ‘Jet d’Eau’ on the southern shore. Calling this a fountain is an understatement. Water shoots up with incredible force 200 kph 1360hp 140m high plume. At any one time there are 7 tonnes of water in the air. Only today it wasn’t playing. Maybe it was too windy.

So we went for a walk through the old town instead, and a very cool old town it is, with narrow backstreets cobblestone roads, large green parks with grass that you are allowed to walk on without getting yelled at. In fact the whole time that we were there we didn’t get yelled at, there were no irate gestures, and there were no tooting of horns. Geneva is what you expect the rest of Switzerland to be … nice. We saw an art gallery with an inscription outside that went something like this; ‘One artist sees the sun and paints a yellow spot, another artist sees a yellow spot and paints the sun. Art is making your imagination real.’

On our travels we have often laughed at the range of museums that we have seen. There is a level of specialization that we haven’t seen before. We have often said that we should have kept a list of the more unusual ones. Well Geneva has the ‘Musee d’Histoire Naturelle’, which houses every species of tiger known to man and stuffed for perpetuity.

After dragging ourselves away from this nice little town we headed for Annecy, North West of Lake Annecy. As we got closer the hillsides turned to mountains and we were given the very strong impression that this is the domain of the French Alps, and these puppies are huge. These Alps are the home of such distinguished names as Mont Blanc, but that will be tomorrow’s story.

LYON – France (Sun 13 Sept)

We left Beaune today and headed to Lyon. On leaving town we passed through the huge vineyards on the edge of town. It is the harvest season and this is still done the traditional way … by hand. The fields are filled with people with baskets on their backs gathering the grapes, and there are more of them arriving as we drive through, by the bus load. It does make you wonder whether the work force is local or whether it is heavily subsidized by migrant workers and back packers. If so, what a great way to pay your way.

We drove on through the villages, within the villages the roads were lined on either side by tall trees, like an avenue. We saw the evidence of ‘the quick red squirrel crossing the road and up a tree’ (with a mouthful of nuts), and ‘the slow brown fox became road kill’.

Lyon has a reputation for being a commercial, industrial and banking powerhouse for the last 500 years. What we found was a city of medieval and renaissance houses with cobblestone streets.

However our room for the night wasn’t … fantastic. However we have decided that our expectations have lowered considerably, providing we have a bed we can sleep in, hot water in the shower , and a toilet that flushes, then we are happy. On first impression a third floor room over looking the market square sounds and looks great. What we didn’t think about was that when the market packs up and closes at 8:00pm, the street cleaners move in. They went around and around that square until the early hours of the morning and then started again at 5:00am, crashing and banging their way around the square. But then the stallholders left a huge mess, we didn’t envy the job of the cleaners. The shoe sellers left huge piles of empty shoe boxes, the clothes sellers left hundreds of coat hangers, there were thousands of plastic bags of every shape and description left blowing around the square. And the stall holders just drove off and left it looking like a rubbish dump. The cleaners deserve their pay, because the next morning you wouldn’t have known.

But I digress, what we wanted to see today was the ‘Centre d’Histoire de la Resistance et de la Deportation’ (the museum of the French Resistance). We had our route sorted out on the map (about a 6km walk), but we were a bit disoriented and weren’t sure which direction to go. So we headed over to a wonderful looking gendarme to ask. When we told him where we wanted to go he “No! You cannot walk. You must take the tube to Hotel de Ville, and then the tube to Perrache, and then the T2 tram for two stops.” We thanked him very much and thought perhaps there was some reason, perhaps there wasn’t a way of walking across the river, so we followed his directions. After all you don’t want to argue with the Gendarme. As it transpired, the “You cannot walk” was because he thought it was too far. We walked home, and it didn’t take much longer than waiting for the tubes and trams. On the plus side the tram did drop us right outside the door of the museum, and we were treated to a little bit of light relief while we were waiting for the tram.

The tram station was situated underground within a tunnel, as we heard the tram coming, we turned and looked to see a guy on an ‘old school’ bike doing a wheel stand. He was going alongside the front of the approaching tram at the same speed, on the track next to it. When our tram stopped he proceeded on at the same speed, still on his back wheel, and disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel following the tracks. We couldn’t believe our eyes, but no one else seemed to be concerned at all. It was like that sort of thing happens every day.

The Resistance Museum is housed in the WWII headquarters of the Gestapo commander Klaus Barbie. When you look at the front of the building there is no mistaking what it once was. It is very square and very stern looking with a high wrought iron fence and gate across its front. It is rather appropriate that it now houses the museum for the resistance movement which he would have fought so hard against.

The museum was very interesting and they provide an English audio guide. There is a lot of information there to absorb and the 90 minutes that we allowed ourselves wasn’t long enough. Although it wasn’t quite what we were expecting. We were expecting more information regarding the resistance fighters, their personal stories and accounts, more museum like displays, perhaps showing how they lived, what they did, the situations they were in. This was more of a memorial rather than a museum. A lot of information, a lot of data, and a lot of reading. There was a lot of focus on the political circumstances and how the resistance movements developed. There was a lot of information about the deportees (Jews, concentration camps, etc) that we have seen at other memorial sites. However we learnt quite a bit, like the fact that the Vichy government made laws and restrictions regarding the Jews on its own initiative, preempting what Germany was wanting them to do. Like the fact that Germany was holding French POWs throughout the war and was trading them for French man power and recruiting the French straight into the German army. Often these draftees ran away and joined the Resistance movement. We learnt that by the end of the war there were 150,000 agents in the Resistance, there were over 300 Resistance networks, and that over 27,000 Resisters were shot in France during the war. So like we said, very informative, just not what we expected.

We finished the day by walking home (don’t tell the Gendarme), by following the Rhone for most of the way. A beautiful evening, in a wonderful city, watching the sun go down on the river and the buildings beyond. As we walked up the final leg, we came across the Roman Amphitheatre (the Romans have been everywhere and left a trail of amphitheatres behind them). This little baby was built in 15BC and was enlarged in 120AD to house 20,000 people. This was the site that the first French Christians were sacrificed. Hmmmm … not really the note that we wanted to finish on, but then I guess that is France.

BEAUNE – France (Sat 12 Sept)

We started the day today with a French breakfast of croissant and coffee. The lady of the house seems to do a lot of running around despite her ‘indeterminable age’. It is hard to guess exactly how old she is, she seems to be in her mid 70s, and yet she seems to run this house pretty much on her own. She checks people in and out, running up and down stairs, maintaining the rooms, serving breakfast and chatting to everyone in their own tongue, and keeping tabs on everyone and everything. We just wish that we still have her energy at her age.

We wanted to spend the day mooching around this town today and we chose the right day to do it, today is Market Day. And this market is pretty impressive selling every imaginable form of fruit, vegetables, meat products, breads, cheeses, etc. There are also the usual tacky souvenirs, clothes and obscure items, just to keep things interesting. What surprises us is how does a stall selling American Indian knick knacks happen to be here, and we have seen that quite a few times whilst over here.

From the market we went to church, well to be precise we went and had a look at St Catherine’s jaw bone in the Cathedral. After that little interlude it was time to jazz it up a bit, after all they are having a jazz festival here this weekend. But we have found that a ‘jazz festival’ here isn’t the same as what we expect at home with lots of free gigs and concerts. A jazz festival here means nights of organized events where you pay through the nose for an evening of getting dressed up, a couple of wines at the door (bring your own sandwiches) and a couple of gigs thrown in (different gigs on different nights). We were told that there would be no free events, but as luck would have it, we found one. So we spent a couple of hours in the sun enjoying some jazz before heading off for a taste of wine.

This city has a reputation for the wine caves that run underneath the city. What you find out very quickly after arriving here is that this place makes, tastes, sells, and breaths wine. And we were about to find out more about this. We went to ‘Patriarche Pere et Fils’ the wine maker and owner of the largest underground wine cellar in the city. It is actually more like a 15,000 m2 system of catacombs (a total lineal length of 5km) housing millions of bottles of wine being aged to perfection in cool, dark, cob-web lined cellars. Some of these wines are behind locked bars and were put down in 1994 and have been set aside to be ready for tasting in the year 2094. Makes you wonder what happens then … “Mmmmm … it’s not quite ready, give it another 100 years”. This is wine that is being made for generations to come. As you enter you are given a ‘tastvin’ (a flat silvery tasting cup), for you to taste the 3 white wines and 13 red wines, that come at the end of the tour, in the depths of the cellar of course.

The history of these cellars are quite interesting. It was originally the ‘Ladies of the Visitation Convent’ in 1632, who ‘acquired’ quite a few hectares of land and vines. These lands were acquired through men going to war and leaving the land in the trust of the church, or they were given to the church as atonement for their sins. And the resident nuns put these vines to good use and developed a rather good cellar to match. But then came the revolution (as is the French way) in 1789 when religious freedom was revoked, churches closed, and heads rolled (literally), as a way of reducing the power and influence of the church. The monastery was confiscated and sold off to the highest bidder, who happened to be a bit of a wine buff himself. The rest, as they say, ‘is history’.

Heading home we were treated to the sight of a most eccentric gentleman, driving slowly through the cobbled streets in a silver Rolls Royce, complete with ribbons (aka wedding car), hopping out at regular intervals and putting on a flamboyant show of kissing old ladies and telling them how beautiful they were. And no one turned a hair. It was like that sort of thing happens every day … perhaps it does.

BEAUNE – France (Fri 11 Sept)

We went for a walk around Freiburg this morning before leaving. On our way into town we came across a kid of about 15 yrs on a bike waiting at the traffic lights. While he was waiting a girl rode past him, through the red light, and out the other side (there were no cars to be seen). The reaction from him was hilarious. He immediately started yelling and screaming at her at the top of his voice and gesturing wildly, effectively telling her that she was blind and couldn’t she see the red light. But he kept this up for about three minutes and long after she was well out of earshot. Then the light turned green and he quietly proceeded around the corner. They start this behaviour young around here.

We went into the Cathedral this morning and were surprised by how dark the interior was, probably the darkest church that we have seen. Once outside, it was a different scene, a market selling all manner of fresh goods, vegetables, fruit, flowers, handcrafts, etc. Something that has been noticeable in this city is the number of people gathering chestnuts from under the many chestnut trees that line the streets. An indication of the changing of the seasons, and nearing the end of summer.

On our way back to the car we noticed a number of small brass plaques (about 100mm square), inserted into the footpaths between the cobbles on the footpaths outside some of the shops in the old town. Inscribed on these plaques is something that we think translates into something like; ‘Here lived … born … deported 1940, Auschwitz’. Are these more of the silent reminders like we saw in Munich?

After leaving Freiburg we headed for our destination Beaune in France. We wanted to fill up with diesel before we left Germany, as we had been told that it was quite a bit more expensive in France. Unfortunately we had crossed the border before we had realized we had, but economy wise, this was a good thing. Diesel is cheaper here (off the Autobahn) than where we were in Germany. You can’t always believe what you read or are told.

After traveling through countryside changing between rolling hills, small fenced paddocks, and bush-like forest areas (more like NZ than we have seen yet). Through to wide open spaces of flat agricultural land and cropping, we arrived in Beaune late in the day, after following the river Daubes. Justine has been a little nervous about going into France with minimal French language ability. We have always been told, of the French arrogance and the refusal to speak English, but so far we have found this to be nothing more than an untrue stereotype.

I have to say that Justine’s dependence and trust in my schoolboy French is a little misguided. I seem to remember that my lovely French teacher (Miss Proud) told me in the nicest way possible that it was a good thing that I had no intention of going to France, as my French was crap. And here we are! What a shame I didn’t pay more attention to Miss Proud 30 years ago.

We were directed by the tourist information office to a bed and breakfast right in the middle of the city. The B&B is run by a little old lady of ‘indeterminable age’ who has been running this house since 1959. We were told by the tourist info, that it was “clean”. From that description we really weren’t sure what to expect. What we found was something quite endearing and so typically (what we imagined to be) French. Up some narrow, spiral, dilapidated, wooden stairs we were introduced to our room. It was large, it had a double bed and two singles, it had a bathroom opening off in one corner, large shuttered windows opening onto the square, it had furniture that had been through at least two wars, and tea towels that dated from the early 70s. It wasn’t until it was time to go to bed that we found that the mattress appeared to be stuffed with straw. Probably the same mattresses from 1959 (hopefully not the same straw), but even that seemed to be somehow … right. We’re yet to find what they are like to sleep on.

After settling in we headed into town, through the enclosing ramparts, and were treated to the sights and sounds that you would expect of a small French village. This place is so cool! Old, aged, worn, … but cool. The houses have the appearance that the owners have the attitude that, if they have lasted for the last four hundred years, they should last for the next four hundred as well. Why should they do any maintenance.

It is hard to believe that we are here.

FREIBURG – Germany (Thurs 10 Sept)

We checked out of Schiltach this morning, but once again our host who over the last few days did manage to become the perfect example of congeniality, managed to leave us with a bad taste. When settling up the bill, we were informed all sorts of extra costs that we hadn’t reckoned on, like tourist tax to cover the ‘Free’ tourist card, like the over-inflated cost of the water that we used to handwash our clothes in the basin. We were beginning to wonder if he would charge us for each square of toilet paper that we used. After all the extras, what started as a reasonable rate, became the same as we would have paid at a hotel with all the extras done for us. Reminder to ourselves, ask more questions up front and not assume that things that are stated as free may not be.

After doing the kiwi thing and grumbling about this all the way down the hill, we were met with a random act of kindness. A local gentleman helped us out with our parking problems and paid for us. For every action there is a reaction, every good has a little bad, every bad has a little good. After devouring a final slice of the famous Cherry Cake, we left town in a far better frame of mind, admiring the town for what it was, another fantastic little village on our European journey.

As we left town and headed south we admired the countryside with the HUGE chalet style houses and the HUGE multilevel barns. We were aiming for our stopover at Titisee, but we were distracted by a certain little place called the ‘Witches Hole’ or Hexenloch. This is a narrow little winding road that leads down, down, down, flanked by tall timber trees, following a little burbling brook, down into the very cold depths of the valley. And then back up the other side again. We didn’t see any witches, or anything else of particular note, but we could imagine what a cold uninviting place it must be in the middle of winter.

We managed to make it to Titisee in time for lunch and the first thing that struck us was the tour buses and the hordes of elderly tourists pouring off them. We are sure that of the thousands of people in that little town that day, that we were officially the youngest ones there. We had been told that tour buses only stop at three places on their way through Germany; Berlin, Schloss Neuschwanstein, and Heidelberg Castle. We would like to add Lake Titisee to that list, but being such a small place the impact is more pronounced. This little place is very small and crammed with tourist trinket shops that have the appeal of a mosquito dive bombing your ear at midnight. The lake front beach (which is about 150 meters long) is lined with little boats that you can hire out at exorbitant prices, or ferries that will take you on a 30 minute tour of the lake, before the next group shuffles on. Never the less, they seem to do a roaring trade.

If you take all the commercialism out of it, it is quite a picturesque spot, and after having a brief lunch we decided to go for a walk along the edge of the lake. Our first obstacle along this route was a large park with large trees along the waters edge, so that we couldn’t get near it. We were amused to find a notice at the entrance to this park that said; No swimining, No walking on the grass, No kicking of balls, No kites, No sunbathing, and Quiet Please! It appears that the only activity that is allowed here is to sit quietly of the park benches and the rustling of newspapers is barely allowed.

From the park onwards we found that the lake is fronted by private property and there is no sight or sound of the lake at all. The ‘Hiking Trail’ that we were on, was more what we would call a footpath, and the normal mode of dress was hiking boots, all weather gear, and of course Nordic walking sticks. After half and hour we thought that we should probably walk back, and on observing our position, we found that we had actually overshot the end of the lake. So we thought we would risk the ire of the locals and trespass through the collection of camping grounds and come back on the other side of the lake. To say camping grounds, this really meant, concentrated parking lots for camper homes. We didn’t get yelled at, but we did get a few dirty looks, but then that could have just been our shoes.

The shoes that we have been wearing for everyday use, aren’t exactly the most … stylish. And to say that they draw attention is an understatement. As we walk through the streets of many of the cities, people don’t just look at them, but they openly stare and you can see their lips curl up in disgust. I’ve been telling Justine that they are jealous that we can pull them off with such panache, but I haven’t got her quite convinced of that yet. In the mean time, it gives us hours of amusement, watching people watch our feet clump down their streets.

We arrived at our destination, Freiburg, at the end of the day, and checked in to our accommodation. This is the biggest city that we have stayed in for a while, and this shows in the graffiti around the streets. But then this could just be because we are staying on the cheaper side of town. It is obviously a university town and this is reflected in the number of art galleries that appear to be on every corner and on every street. We are staying close to the old centre of town that has heaps of very old and very cool old buildings. We walked through the old city gates and through to the Munster Cathedral. Built out of red sandstone, the Cathedral is going through an extensive refurb which is predicted to take ten years. According to the information the need for the refurb became apparent when one of the stones from the steeple fell down and smashed onto the pavement. After doing some investigation they discovered that some maintenance was required. Hardly surprising when you consider that this place was built in the middle ages.

We finished our last night in Germany having dinner in an Italian restaurant. We welcomed each other in German, we ordered in English, and we said good bye to each other in Italian … in Germany, somehow that seemed strange.

SCHILTACH – Germany (Wed 9 Sept)

Today we managed to get to Triberg. This involved two trains with enough of a gap in the transit time for us to visit the model railway, across the road from the train station in Hausch. If you are a model railway buff, you will probably think this is heaven. We’re not, but it was still quite interesting, a model of the train system through the Black Forest. We couldn’t read the inscriptions, but you can imagine that this would have taken months if not years to complete (something to fill the long cold winter nights I guess).

From here it was on to Triberg. As we had heard this was quite a pretty little town. We made our way up the hill via the various bakeries, looking for something more substantial than Black Forest Cherry Cake. But being the hometown of this specialty, and a tourist hotspot, that was the mainstay of their offerings. The other thing that this town is known for is their cuckoo clocks, and if you want one this is that place to come. There are thousands of them, and no shortage of salesmen trying to persuade you that a cuckoo clock is just what you need. We managed to dissuade ourselves and fob off the salesman, but we did manage to find the dueling house-sized cuckoo clocks without the help of the tourist information office, which we didn’t find until just as we were leaving town. Regarding the house-sized cuckoo clocks, they don’t tell you that they mean a three story house-sized cuckoo clock. They are BIG, but their performance on the hour is just as you would expect from a cuckoo clock … it is a “Cuckoo”.

During our stay in Germany we have been told, and read, a number of times about how the National Socialist Party (Hitler) became popular and therefore into power. One of the factors was the ‘hyperinflation’ that invited an extremist reaction from the population. You are probably wondering why we are talking about this now. On our way up the hill we saw in the window of an antique shop, money from that period. Amongst the stacks of notes, there was a pile of 50 Million Mark notes that were printed in September 1923, selling now for the grand sum of one euro each. In 1923 these notes were worth so little that people were burning them in their fireplaces as they were more combustible than the firewood that they could buy, they were only printed on one side as the ink they were printed with had a greater value than they were worth, you needed a wheelbarrow load of these notes to buy anything at all. The exchange rate we think was something like 1 USD = 4 Trillion Marks. Insane. We just had to have one.

We pressed on towards the waterfall. This is the highest waterfall in Germany, and we thought well worth a look, and at the very least, a chance to get out and have a decent walk. Our first surprise was the ‘Kasse’ at the entrance to the track. It continues to surprise us when we need to pay to view ‘natural features’. On the way up the track there were regular bilingual signs telling us about Squirrels and Nutcrackers, that they promised we would see, but didn’t. We were amused to read a sign explaining the ‘untidy forest’ with fallen trees and dead wood as being a natural phenomenon. We imagined people getting out there with brooms to ‘tidy’ it up. What we did see was the waterfall, after a twenty minute walk. The waterfall wasn’t as impressive as we had imagined, but it was pretty cool, winding and tumbling it’s way down through the rocks.

We decided to take the long way back to town and on the way passed a church that we found out was a pilgrimage church. Quite a plain looking church from the inside, but once inside you are greeted by a huge, ornate alter, that seems out of place in this small town. The story goes that a young girl was healed of an eye infection, and a man was healed of leprosy, by the waters that pass here.

SCHILTACH – Germany (Tues 8 Sept)

We shared breakfast this morning with a Grandmother and grandson, who are staying here as well. From the little pieces of lingual common ground, she is taking him on a tour of the museums, and hiking trails of the area. She is very sprightly for her age (or at least the age she seems to be), talking flat out and more energy than her grandson. Makes us wish we are like that when we reach her age.

After breakfast we headed to the train station, our intention, to catch the train to Triberg, a pretty little town framed by three mountains and home to two house-sized, dueling cuckoo clocks. But as it transpired, we didn’t have the pleasure. The hourly train had left 3 minutes before we arrived and we didn’t feel inspired to wait for the next one. We caught the train to Freudenstadt instead, and stopped at Alpirsbach on the way.

Alpirsbach is another pretty little town comprising of more half timbered houses and houses and buildings constructed out of red sandstone. This town’s biggest feature is the 12th Century Benedictine Abbey, and the brewery that sprung from it. We didn’t stay here long, just long enough to browse the streets, around the outside of the monastery and hop on the next train.

Freudenstadt isn’t as pretty as some of the other towns that we have seen in the region, but from the photos that we have seen this place was severely damaged in 1945, so you don’t get to see the old architecture. The story goes that the German commander in residence here was given the option by the invading forces of surrendering and saving the town, but he decided to defend with his small handful of remaining men. Consequently, it was flattened. At least that is the story that our host told us. What this town does have is the largest marketplace in the country, lined with strong looking buildings, painted in light colours and accented with bright flowerboxes. To one end of the square, and across the green, is a large, red sandstone protestant church. The fount, the large crucifix, and the lectern, are the only remaining pieces here that survived the destruction and fire from the bombing. Outside, between here and the marketplace, is a large fountain area. A flat area of cobbles with random jets of water giving the local kids an active summer playground. Being a hot summers day with clear blue sky, this was being put to good use.

After catching the train back to Schiltach, we had another browse around the town, finishing with a nice big slab of Schwarzwalderkirschtorte each (Black Forest Cherry Cake), delicious.

SCHILTACH – Germany (Mon 7 Sept)

We thought about staying in Freinheim another day today as we feel we spent our time socialising and didn’t get to see the place properly, however the rest of Europe is calling us. So we left this little German village with a couple of bottles of wine under our arm and headed south to the Black Forest area. But that wasn’t before admiring the oxalis cultivated in pot plants on the way through the garden.

Our first stop was Baden-Baden, a town that Bill Clinton once referred to as “So nice, you had to name it twice”, and nice describes it perfectly. But before we got there, the road works and detours took us through France for about half an hour. As soon as we were in France we knew it, no only because of the flags, and the language, but also because the remarkable thing that happens over here. You would think that these days with the non-existent borders, that one country would slowly blend into the next, they don’t. It is like an abrupt change, that you can almost feel in the air, you know that it feels like a different place. And this is what it was like today. We went through a few small French villages that had the look and feel of a small rural French village, and distinctly different from the villages that we had been driving through just a few kms away in Germany.

Be that as it may, we left France and got back into German territory and continued on our way to the nice Baden-Baden. This was definitely going to be a short stop over as we had to get to our destination in time to find somewhere to sleep, in other words, before the tourist information office closed, and these can be unpredictable at the best of times. As it turned out, we hadn’t quite been prepared for the opening hours in Baden-Baden either. We had heard that there were ruins of Roman Baths that were worth a look. These ruins are inside a museum and can be viewed between March and November between 11:00 – 12:00 and between 15:00 – 16:00. For a total of two hours per day for nine months of the year?! That is insane. We had arrived at 12:15 and we had no intention of waiting around until 15:00, so we went for a walk around the central town for a while before heading out. We came to the conclusion that Baden-Baden is … nice. It has several thermal baths that might well be worth a revisit within the next few days, but these baths are also responsible for the bus loads of elderly tourists ‘taking the waters’.

From Baden-Baden we headed south into the real Black Forest country, and the Black Forest really is black. Large areas of very dark, straight, vertical trees. Looking into the heart of the woods, all that you can see is … black. The villages that we passed through were very quaint, old villages, filled with half-timbered houses that seem to be leaning against each other for support. Each house helping its neigbour to retain its semi-upright position. Passing through woods and villages we arrived in Schiltach at about 4:00 pm, and the tourist info was very helpful in finding a small B&B to stay in for the next few nights at a reasonable rate. Our hosts seem very friendly and are accustomed to accommodating Kiwi and Aussie travelers. Our room has all the amenities including a bath, something we have been craving recently, and our hosts seemed more than happy for us to use it.

After settling in we went for a walk around the town and returned happy in the knowledge that we had made the right choice in which village to stop. A pretty little village with the half-timbered houses that seem to dominate around here. This village has the appearance of ‘the village that time left behind’. It seems like time has moved on and someone forgot to tell the people around here. Today has been another great day, which we thought we would finish with a nice long soak in the bath (it’s been a long time since we have had that pleasure). Then just as we were finishing up, and I was standing there with nothing but a towel and a face full of shaving cream, we hear our irate host outside the door knocking and telling us very loudly “There are other people in the house!” We wondered what on earth was going on. Perhaps we had used all the hot water, but it seemed that I was making too much noise with my shaving. And we thought that we were being as quiet as possible (it was 11:00pm). The way that he behaved, we are convinced that he is Swiss.

We have never been yelled at, told off, or reprimanded as much and as often as we have since we have been in Switzerland and the West of Germany. We spend our time feeling like naughty school children, wondering what we are going to do wrong next.

We're not Imposters

Just to show that we aren't imposters and that we are in fact alive and well.

FREINSHEIM – Germany (Sun 6 Sept)

Today we met up with Daniela and Armin at Heidelberg Castle.

This is a huge castle overlooking Heidelberg built out of red sandstone (the local specialty). This castle has ‘been through the wars’ so to speak. It’s been through a couple of wars, had various attempts at destroying here (with significant success) and then finished off by a lightening strike to one of the towers (that happened to be the gun powder room). So what the other means didn’t destroy the resulting fire did a pretty good job of. After this run of bad luck, the castle became the ‘Sleeping Beauty’ and slept for 100 years, during which time, anything that wasn’t tied down was stolen or destroyed further. Finally someone decided that perhaps she was worth reviving. Probably one of the most visited items in the castle currently is the ‘Gross’ Keg. This is the wine barrel that has the capacity to hold 221,726 litres of wine. In the days of old the wine was pumped straight up from here to the banquet hall, although the wine of that time wasn’t that great. Evidently the taxes were paid in whatever the local farmers had available, and often these payments went straight into the barrel. This included all manner of white and red grapes and ground bones for good health. Hmmm … sounds a little rough.

After doing our tour we went down the hill and shared coffee and cake with Daniela and Armin. After traveling around for four months it is a fantastic feeling to see someone you know, and we will always be grateful and remember them for their hospitality, including us in their wedding day, and giving up their time today to spend some time with us. They truly are fantastic people and deserve a great life together. We will always be thankful to their family and friends for making us feel a part of their day.

Of course we did have a few questions for them today as well, like what’s the story with the two weddings. Unlike New Zealand where everything is completed on the same day and at the same time, over here they have two weddings. There is the Civil Service, which is the official filling in of forms to make it legal, and the Church Service, where the vows etc are made. The only difference with Daniela and Armin is that those two events were four months apart, instead of consecutive days. So which day is the anniversary? Both perhaps? And tomorrow they are off to Greece for a honeymoon … or is it? Perhaps they will have another one of those too.

We finished the day with them telling us that they would come and see us when we are in the UK, so we hope they do. We can’t wait to see them again. And we hope they get to come back to NZ again too, we would certainly love to see them. These two days are ones that we will never forget. Wonderful people on the other side of the world have made them memorable for us.

FREINSHEIM – Germany (Sat 5 Sept)

Today is Daniela’s wedding day, it is still grey and overcast, but no rain. But we started the day with breakfast which was a royal feast. We are staying at a Bed and Breakfast in a winery, which seems to be the occupation of the majority of the population in this region. As you drive through small village to small village, the only reason for pause between them is the acre upon acre of vineyards. This is serious wine growing country, and their product displays their experience in the craft.

But more important than the wine, or perhaps in partnership with it, we had a wedding to go to in a small village just a few kms from Freinsheim called Forst. As luck would have it, the grey clouds cleared the way for blue sky and sunshine as the appointed hour drew near. As we drove up to the church, which was an old, small, sturdy looking building with a high steeple, we were greeted by the church bells ringing out their welcome. Inside the church it was very light and airy, with pipe organ and choir behind, bride and groom at the front, and friends and family gathered in support. We didn’t understand much of the service but we had the impression that the priest was a bit of a ‘character’ and injected a lot of his personality into the service. Being a Catholic service the priest did a bit of singing through the service, which raised the question with us whether a priest ever gets kicked out of ‘Priest School’ because his singing is crap.

Daniela looked absolutely stunning and Armin looked pretty fine as well. Daniela and Armin spent a year in New Zealand recently (I worked with Daniela, which is how we knew them), and the order of service was illustrated with photos from their travels there, which gave us an instant contact point. This was a theme that was touched on throughout the day and it became obvious (also by talking to their friends) that the time that they spent in NZ was very special to them.

It’s been a long time since either of us have been to a Catholic wedding and we have certainly never been to a German one, so we did notice a few differences in the way things were done. When the service was complete everyone exited the church before the bridal couple, and there was no rice or rose petals to greet them, but rather a table laden with food and wine for everyone to stand around and enjoy. We were then all given balloons with postcards attached, for us to write well wishes on, and then release into the air. Hopefully, at least some of them will find their way through the postal service and back to them.

From here it was back to Freinsheim for the reception, well to start with it was sitting around for coffee and cakes, before the bridal couple disappeared for photos. The reception wasn’t the formal affair of speeches that we are accustomed to, and it wasn’t the boozy type with people leaning on bars and quaffing as much food and drink as they can possibly hold because it is free. But rather it was a very fine meal of several courses interspersed with games and poems that involved all of the guests. It was a very relaxing and enjoyable afternoon/evening spent with fine people and fine local wine.

We aren’t sure who did the seating plan but we are very thankful to them for placing us at a table of people who spoke very good English and (a) didn’t mind using it and (b) didn’t mind translating things for us throughout the evening. One of the most amusing things was when the first course was delivered and the literal translation for the food was ‘Pigs Stomach’. The look on Justine’s face dropped like a stone and turned into one of disgust. Then it was explained to us that it was called that because like a pig’s stomach it contained everything, vegetables, meat, etc. It wasn’t literally a pig’s stomach, and by the way, it was very nice.

One of the presents that Daniela and Armin were given that night was a social calendar. One of their friends had organized a calendar for the next twelve months where every one of the guests does something or goes somewhere with or that involves Daniela and Armin. This might be going to the movies, helping in the rose gardens, or going to Finland and driving a dog sled for five days. We thought this was a very cool idea, a present that keeps on giving.

We got into some very interesting conversations with some of the guests. It was great to have the opportunity to ask the questions that we have been wondering about, and through the course of the evening we learnt quite a lot. In Fawlty Towers they say “Don’t mention the war.” What we found is that you don’t need to because it comes up anyway. These people have not forgotten, will never forget, don’t want to forget (to ensure that it doesn’t happen again), and don’t need people like you or I to remind them. I think that they have healthy attitude towards it. However we did ask if they ever had any sense of being proud to be German, and we got a resounding “No!” We found that to be rather sad. The only time that they had felt that pride was at the football world cup which they won.

We also talked about the compulsory military service/civil service that they do/have done here, which brought us back to the Swiss. One of the guests has lived in Zurich for a number of years and was telling us about the ‘siege mentality’ of the Swiss and how it goes far beyond what we had realized. The Swiss have a whole underground army, I mean, it is literally underground, in the mountains. Driving down here from Zurich, you drive through a tunnel, if you look for them you will see that the tunnel has huge gates which can close. Inside that mountain is an underground military hospital that has the capacity for 40,000 patients. This is just one example of the installations all around Switzerland that include airfields and army bases, that can be activated at a moments notice. This just shows the paranoia of this ‘Neutral’ country. Especially since this is a country that has nothing that anyone wants, which is why it was able to remain neutral during WWII and why Napoleon marched straight through it without stopping. We were also told that no matter how long you live there you will never be accepted, and if you lose your job you will immediately be told to go back to where you come from. To be accepted for citizenship, it has to go before the local community and they gather together to vote on whether they want you or not. Which is a little tough if you are a third generation Swiss who’s country of origin doesn’t exist anymore. If the vote comes back with a ‘No’, you effectively don’t have a home. Don’t you love the Swiss?

FREINSHEIM – Germany (Fri 4 Sept)

We left Switzerland today … eventually. This wasn’t because we had a late start, but because during the course of our journey we went in and out of Switzerland and Germany several times before we settled on Germany. Unlike our entry into Switzerland from Austria several days ago, where the border control buildings seemed as if they had been disused for some time, the ones between Switzerland and Germany are in full effect, well at least from the Swiss side. Leaving Switzerland … no problem, going into Switzerland … we got stopped each time, albeit briefly.

The rest of the journey was pretty nondescript really. Traveling along Autobahn’s peppered with road works, bringing traffic to a virtual, if not an actual stop. The weather is still rain and wind, we just hope that it clears up for the wedding tomorrow. We are heading for a small winegrowing village in Western Germany where our friends Daniela and Armin are getting married tomorrow. But more on that later.

This area is full of little tiny winegrowing villages, with tiny, narrow, cobblestone roads that wind through and then pop you out the other side. Little roads that are lined with ancient houses, that seemingly bend to whichever angle the wind would have them go. This is a very cool, and quaint area, and I can understand why Daniela wanted to get married here.

ZURICH – Switzerland (Thurs 3 Sept)

We woke up today with a plan, today we are going to catch the #11 tram to the city, and then the S10 train to Uetliberg, walk the two hour track along the hills (with the reported fantastic views of the city), catch the cable car back down to Adliswil, and the S4 back to the city again. The rain that has been forecast isn’t happening, we have beautiful blue sky, so it will be perfect. A simple plan … or so we thought. As we progressed into town, the further we went, the more the weather deteriorated. By the time we got off the train at Uetliberg, the weather was wild, windy and pouring with rain. We thought we would wait for half an hour to see what the weather would do. We then joined the others that obviously shared our intentions, and got back on the train we had arrived on and went back to the city. We went to the art gallery instead.

As it transpired this was a great choice. There are many art galleries in this city and by all accounts the ‘Kunsthaus Zurich’ is the one to see. We can’t speak for the others, but this one is well worth the visit. We ended up spending five hours here perusing through works by Remembrant, Cezanne, Dali, Kandinsky, Lichtenstein, Miro, Monet, Picasso, Rodin, Van Gogh, Warhol, and some strange offerings in a current exhibition of Albert von Keller works. He seemed to go through a period where he had an obsession for the occult. The scope of this gallery is impressive with old masters, impressionism, expressionism, abstracts, sculpture, surrealism, pop art, photo realism, etc, etc. Amazing artworks. This gallery offers far more than we expected. It is very cool to be able to go into these galleries and see the work of these artists time and time again, work by artists that we have never had the opportunity of seeing before.

What we have in our artistic naivety come to realize, is that many of the works that we have thought of as created by an artist, are actually completed by several understudies with the named artist doing the finishing touches or certain portions. Looking back on what we have seen, this makes Michelangelo’s ‘David’, that much more impressive, starting with one single block of marble, ‘David’ was completely created by Michelangelo alone, whilst at a young age. We were told, that if he had done nothing else he would have carved a name for himself with that one piece.

ZURICH – Switzerland (Wed 2 Sept)

We’re checking out today and heading to Zurich, but before leaving our B&B we thought we would have a proper look around. We found that they do the ‘Sleeping on straw’ here. If only we had known, we would have gone for that option. This is a scheme they have going in Switzerland where they rent out sleeping space in their hay barns during the summer season and the cows are in the fields. We had discussed this, but with the swine smells of the last place we agreed that we would need to be selective where we did it, as we didn’t want to be sleeping in a pigsty (figuratively speaking). But this one looked pristine. Fresh hay bales laid out in a dorm-like configuration around the walls, in an elevated loft above the barn, with a bathroom and toilet attached. Mattresses available for those that don’t want to sleep directly on the straw. Exactly what we were looking for, what a shame we didn’t know about it until we were leaving.

We’re retracing our steps today going back the way that we came. Small farmlets, green pastures, sprinkled with chalets and farm buildings, winding our way through small villages and farming communities. As we went through the towns we noticed that there were a lot of kids heading home at 11:40 with their flouro sashes. Do they have two hour lunch hours as well? Or perhaps they have half days on Wednesdays.

Our first stop in Zurich was the train station and the tourist information office to try and find somewhere to sleep tonight. The train station has 54 platforms, 1000s of train movements everyday, and the 1000s of people that go with that. There was a market going on inside one end of the station, as there is every Wednesday, and weaving their way through this crowd are the large tractor like street sweepers. With a flashing light and a toot of the horn they seem to take delight in running down the unsuspecting. Up until now we have seen the cleaners working their way through bus, train, and underground stations with a broom and a bucket, making minimal fuss, minimal bother, and minimal noise. Today we even saw street sweepers cleaning the side of country roads with a bush type broom. So why do they suddenly decide here to go automatic on us. The operators seem to get particular pleasure from their jobs.

It was at this station that we had it reconfirmed that the Swiss were out to get us. It didn’t seem that we could do anything right. If we sat down we got yelled at “You can’t sit there!”, if we stood in one place we got yelled at “You have to move!” It felt like you can’t do anything without being told by someone to do something else. This yelling isn’t done by policemen (we’ve seen hardly any of them), it is done by Joe public, and Joe public is a scary man (or more often a woman) who is quite at ease yelling at you from either 300 meters away, or directly into your face. After getting scared out of your wits, you realize that it isn’t just you, they do this to anyone and everyone. The Swiss don’t need a police force, they do a perfectly good job of self regulating themselves. Whoever says that Germans are rude, haven’t met the Swiss.

The guidebooks would have you believe that ‘the Swiss are the friendliest people in the world’. From our experience this couldn’t be further from the truth, well at least in the cities. Maybe their country folk benefit from the elevation of their habitat and perhaps the hemp that they share with their ducks.

But back to the train station, we haven’t seen as many army personnel in any country as we have here in Switzerland. This is particularly noticeable at the train station where we consistently saw large groups of them, in transit, on the way home with family, on duty, off duty, all with the obligatory kit bags and rifles over their shoulders. It seems ironic for a neutral country to be bristling with a military presence to defend its neutrality.

In case you were wondering, we did find somewhere to sleep for the next couple of nights, and after checking in we headed out again to have a look at this fine city. First was a tram ride into the city, and greeting us on the tram was the sign that said, by graphic means; No smoking (fair enough), No empty pockets (you have to pay for your ride), No shoes on seats (fair enough), No guitar playing (is yodeling OK?), and No sawing seats?????!!!! (does that really need to be said?).

Once in town our investigations started with a ‘short harbour’ boat cruise. It all started well enough finding our way aboard and sitting down, and then a woman stuck her face in ours and barked in the deepest voice that you can imagine “Coffee!” Her manner, decibel rating and tone (amongst other things) were the first things that made us question whether ‘she’ was really a ‘she’ (the jury is still out on that one). After all her intent was mild enough, she just wanted to know if we wanted a coffee. Our response in the negative seemed to please her, as we didn’t see her again. But then if ‘she’ wasn’t enough to put us off the coffee, the price did. 13 Swiss francs for a coffee (approx 17 NZD). This is one very expensive country where diesel is more expensive than all grades of petrol.

The cruise was very pleasant passing down both sides of the lake looking out at the expensive looking houses. We made the observation that a lot of it looked like it could be Mt Eden (with lots of established green trees around), put on the side of a lake with mountains as a backdrop. The area around here has a lot of history and some truly fantastic old buildings, but this wasn’t being shown to its best today with the grey sky and threatening rain.

But not to be put off we followed this up with a riverboat cruise that went up the canal/river. By this time it was getting dark and the lights of the city were coming on. The spires and steeples, the twin domes of the Grossmunster were all alight. This was truly magical. Also lit up was the Frauenbadi, a women’s only swimming baths on the river that was built in 1888 to protect women bathers from ‘prying eyes’. Even today this is a women’s only baths, except at night when it becomes a Barefoot Bath and men are invited.