We bowled up at our hotel (gorgeous Hotel River right by the river Arno, 5 mins walk from the main city centre) a couple of hours early expecting to only be able to leave our bags and have to come back later to check in only to be warmly welcomed and given our keys within 10 minutes. Instant good impression made even better by the fact this was achieved despite their computer system being frozen and the concierge not even being able to see if the rooms were ready. (Fortunately he was a smart chap who just called the housekeeper to find out if our room was sorted!) The heavenly bliss of an air-conditioned room with balcony and scrumptious apricot jellies on our pillows. Honestly it just got better and better. After getting settled we headed into town to get our bearings.

A short, 5 min walk lead us to Chiesa Santa Croce with its stunning marble façade. We had pizza for lunch at a little restaurant just down the road, tried to accustom ourselves to the heat (now about 32 degrees) and studied the map to decide where to go next.

After lunch we chose a side street and wandered until we reached the Palazzo Vecchio which is the town hall. The square by this building houses the replica of Michelangelo’s David as this is where it first lived. There is also a loggia that has many other lovely sculptures from the same period.

From here we headed down past the Uffizzi Gallery to see the Ponte Vecchio from the road beside the river. You may be unsurprised to hear that at this point we found a rowing club. Situated underneath the Uffizzi. A highlight moment.

By now the heat was taking its toll – the air conditioned room at the hotel was calling. So we headed back to chill out and plan our next foray.

The concierge at the hotel had recommended we visit the top floor balcony that overlooked the river while at the hotel. Before heading out to look for likely places for dinner and enjoy the city in the cooler (?) evening we decided a quick stop upstairs would be worthwhile. The view was stunning (next pic).

The area to the left of the top of the tower is Piazzale Michelangelo – another (bronze) replica of the David sits here and this is where all the bus tours stop to give you a view of the city (Contiki takes a group photo from here too).

We also spotted a cat-sized creature crawling along the weir in the river. Closer inspection showed it was an otter – right in the middle of the city! Fantastic.

We decided to head into town the long way – crossing the river and walking down to the Ponte Vecchio from the far side. The jewellers shops that operate on the bridge had all closed but there was a chap busking who had attracted a massive crowd so the bridge was still really busy. To either end of it were the most fantastic gelaterias to tempt you:

After dinner we headed back to the Ponte Vecchio for more photos then bed – big day tomorrow.

Saturday
We took our time about heading out deciding to aim for the Duomo first. We joined a fast moving, short queue to look around inside and as we came out and saw the same queue stretching back around the building and completely stopped we realised we’d been extremely lucky. Every time we went past the cathedral we saw a longer and longer queue – we didn’t see it short and fast moving any other time we were there!

From the Duomo we headed for the Bargello museum to see more Davids. This time there was Donatello’s David – a bronze statue that made me think of Peter Pan. We also saw hordes of byzantine panels, some armoury and so on. The building was built as a palace first, then housed the magistrate, then the police and became a prison, then became a convent before becoming a gallery. Quite a varied old life! It was very peaceful. Quite unlike the Uffizzi which we decided to pass on as the queues were SO long.

After some more wandering, eating and an afternoon relax we decided again to stroll up to the Ponte Vecchio in the hope of getting there before all the shops shut. We joined the throng and spent quite some time admiring the sparkly glittery things in all the windows. I suspect the lights that were illuminating the displays are responsible for the heat in Florence – they must have been kicking out some massive wattage because I definitely got not only tanned but slightly baked from being near them.

There seems to be a taste for knuckle dusters in Italy – there were rings in all the displays that could have weighed down Rocky’s fist. They were garish and superb at the same time.

Fortunately for us, when the heavens opened and a month’s worth of rain fell in 50 mins we had just stopped for a drink and were sheltered under the umbrellas watching other people get caught out (mwah ha ha ha). There was a massive thunderstorm. Unsurprisingly the little chaps that go around selling the prints of paintings and tacky plastic junk immediately appeared selling umbrellas (Dad – do you remember the ones in Rome?)

When the rain had reduced to little more than a drizzle we headed for a restaurant we had found the day before to try out their fare (photos as right). This place is just down the road from our hotel and served the best value, most delicious food and because of the rain was almost empty so we got a brilliant table outside under the covered area (the bright area to the left) and watched Florence go by over pasta and antipasti. We even got an accordion serenade. We came back to the same place on Sunday night when it had not rained all day and it was PACKED. It looks quite small from this picture but it’s massive inside – luckily for us.

And so Saturday wound down over a carafe of Chianti.

Sunday
The rain on Saturday evening cooled down all the streets and buildings so Sunday started relatively cool. We had decided to get a 48 hour ticket to sightseeing bus which conveniently stopped right outside the hotel. We were aiming for the Duomo to climb up to the top but when we got there the long, long line to the cathedral was still in operation but the entrance to the dome was shut! Ah well. Next time.
Plan B: take the bus up to the Accademia di Belle Arti (?) to see THE David (Michelangelo’s one). The line for this also stretched off around the building but, helpfully, there is a big sign on the building saying you can cut the queue and pre-book tickets at a museum just up the road. So that’s what we did. For a small extra price we pre-booked for 30 mins time and after a nice little rest in the park nearby we wandered down to the pre-booked entrance and walked straight in – well worth the extra!

To be honest the most important and impressive thing in this place is The David. It’s astonishing. It stands in its own domed alcove exactly as it looks in all the photos. It is massive! However it doesn’t impose on its space – it’s been very well situated. There was a special exhibition of photos by a photographer who was inspired by Michelangelo’s use of form so there were a couple of his photos hung near the sculpture but normally there is nothing hung around it. Despite that you are still not allowed to take photos. You can walk right around it and there is a platform for seating at the back so we sat and contemplated. It’s quite novel to see his bum! ;-)

The rest of the building is dominated by byzantine works of art – loads and loads of alter panels depicting biblical stories. It’s a massive collection but largely can go unmentioned here.

After contemplations and whatnot it was definitely lunch time. This time we went for the walk and eat option grabbing a scrummy sandwich at the first tasty looking shop we passed and continuing on our way heading back towards the Palazzo Vecchio etc.

It got extremely hot in the early afternoon so we decided to make use of the pool that was “800m” from the hotel. We set off following the directions we had, saw a rowing club… and a canoe club… and some parks… and no pool… We wandered further and further until we decided we must have missed it. We turned around and about 5 mins back the other way we stopped someone to ask where it was – only to be told it was back in the other direction. So back we went with me muttering it better be worth it. And it so was! We eventually got to it – a big park with a kiddies paddling pool on one side and a big, deep, multi-laned pool on the other with a bar and snack shop etc in between. A very good set up. The area was quite busy with people picnicking and sunbathing but the pool wasn’t very busy. We had to walk through a foot bath to even get up to the pool which was quite a clever way to ensure everyone had at least bathed their feet. But finally we were there – at the pool. In we jumped and there we stayed for a glorious 2 hours!

However thirst and hunger drove us back down the road to the hotel. The evenings plan was to catch the bus around the next bit of the sightseeing circuit (we wanted to visit the Piazzale Michelangelo at sunset then do the rest of the ride) before stopping at our now favourite restaurant for dinner. So here is the view of the Ponte Vecchio (bridge left), with Piazza Vecchio tower to the right of that, then the Duomo to the right of that again:

From the piazzale the bus follows the winding hill road through what is obviously the right side of the tracks. Galileo’s observatory is up in these hills as are villas that used to belong to some rich, famous and (ig)noble people, then the road winds down back into the city and loops back over the river eventually taking us to the stop by the restaurant. It’s a brilliant ride passing through wide squares and down the narrowest alleyways, passing old churches filled with beautiful works of art, passed monasteries and convents and castles and villas, cake shops, restaurants and gelaterias – all the wonderful things you want to see in Florence!  It hits most of the main spots related to the Medici family who rules Florence for centuries and were responsibly ultimately for all the works of art and cultural relevance being retained in the city for the public. You can even see the private walkway they had from their grand palace over the Ponte Vecchio along the frontage of the Uffizzi and into the Palazzo Vecchio – so that they would not have to tread where commoners do!

Naturally we enjoyed another glorious evening with a carafe of Chianti and some wonderful Tuscan food before retiring in preparation of ‘the last big day’.

Monday
Final day. Things to do: Pack. Get into town. Buy Souvenirs. Re visit everything! Get home!

We started out by aiming for all the carts selling souvenirs – bags, belts, wallets (anything leather), fridge magnets, fans, hats, scarves (in that heat?), t-shirts, mini Davids, tat, tack etc etc.
Monday is obviously the day all the tour groups come into town. It was packed with groups of people being given guided tours – from within Italy, from Spain, America, England, China, everywhere! We were aiming for the central market on the far side of town and walked down every increasingly swanky streets before we finally came to a massive area of carts the filled the little streets – all selling more and more of the same leather and souvenir goods. And then we reached it – Mecca! A giant market selling meats and cheeses and wine and pasta and herbs and all sorts of things – the place where real Florentines shop. Brilliant. We did end up buying some salami (wow!) and humming and hah-ing over absolutely everything else! I could easily live in Florence and that would be where I spend all my money!

Eventually we had to suck it up, leave the market, make our way back towards the hotel for one final run around all the sites – the one big hit – and make for the train station. We had a moment or two at the station and on the train thinking ‘oh my word please let this be the right one’ and all the trains were running up to an hour late. A lovely Italian girl who spoke flawless English became the translator of all the station and train announcements for our carriage – helping all us bemused tourists out! She further confirmed to me that Italians are superb!

Then we were at the airport, then on the plane, then home again (back in that darn queue at Stansted!).
Fini

Beautiful Florence – Belissimo Firenze remains copyright of the author TravelMc, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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For a start its not raining. Next thing it’s not boiling hot. Let’s face facts, when you have 10 hours or more of hard walking ahead of you rain or sun are not going to be your priority. So the 6 of us set off in naive jubilance thinking nothing of knocking out 50km in one day. Intrepid explorers on the go!

It took us 3 hours to get through the first 3 check points and that was with a wrong turn added in so things were looking quite reasonable for our 10 hour target. And then the blisters started to kick in. Debbie had already had a problem with her shoes and had changed them but the damage had been begun. Harry’s hips and feet had been tender since check point 2 but he was holding up. Matt, Aja and Martin were all apparently fine. So we all vas'ed up the soft tender pink bits of our feet, re-socked and headed out for check points 4, then the A4 and check point 5. Still naive but less jubilant.

Sometime around check point 3 the sun had come out but fortunately the walk took everyone through lovely tree lined paths and fields for much of the hottest part of the day. The 15 other teams were well spread out and while we did walk a lot of the course with the same 3 or so groups there were also many times where we very much felt that we were on our own.

The course went from good old fen style flat land (or there abouts) to much more hilly, undulating, horse fenced and cute village dotted vistas after the A14 and for a short while we all got a second wind as we felt we were so much closer to the finish line but after another 4 hours of walking the joys and jubilation had worn down to grit and determination to just keep going until it was all over. The team was awesome (quite literally - Team Awesome) and Martin turned out to be the b**tard love child of a sherpa and a mountain goat - carrying the injured’s backpacks, ducking back to collect the stragglers then zooming past us all to be in lead encouraging us on. Matt was the pace setter extraordinaire - keeping up a pretty consistent 16.5 mins/mile for almost the whole walk. Harry, Aja, Debbie and I just plugged along encouraging those behind and pushing those in front and taking turns leading or straggling.

Finally - 11 hours after starting (7.20pm) and after 9hours and 27 minutes of walking we struggled across the finish line at a pub in Burrough Green where we were clapped and cheered by both hale and hearty non-walkers and the limping survivors of the teams who had set off before us. It was a huge feeling of relief and there was a general agreement that we'd probably never volunteer to do that again but we had not only walked a total of 300km as a team but raised nearly £2500 for the Papworth Trust (if you want to donate see www.justgiving.com/nwbrown) and also got the grossest most hideous blood blisters and strains just to prove, at work on Monday, that we hadn't been kidding when we had harassed everyone for donations.

The Suffolk/Cambridgeshire countryside really is lovely. I don't remember much of it because I was either crazed with pain or just had my head down watching every step (turns out I can stub my toe on seemingly flat sealed tarmac at a moments in-attention) but the glimpses every dozen steps or so showed that we have some of the most lovely countryside to explore just down the road. I bet it would be lovely to explore on horse back...

50km March from Hell remains copyright of the author TravelMc, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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This Christmas was one such adventure. Another occassion to be with the people I love, meet the new members (one in particular has become a personality you'd be happy to travel around the world to meet - no insipid droolers in my clan!!) and drink a lot of L&P - something I can't say I spent an enormous amount of time doing when I lived there but its funny what you miss, hey?!

Arriving in Auckland is like a relief. The accents sound weird, the people look like people should look (tanned for pities sake), and the sky is blue, bold and so far above you you just know the country has mountains! As I said its funny what you miss.

As usual the weather was tropical in comparison to the 5 degree drizzly greyness and fog that waved goodbye at Heathrow. 22 degrees, sunshine and occassional cloud said 'kai ora, welcome home'. Christmas day itself was spent at the airport in Singapore wallowing around the pool and shopping until it was time to get food or get on the plane. I highly recommend spending time at Changi airport if you can. 7 hours can easily be swallowed up by the pool, the shops, the food, the movie theatre and even a free tour of the city - its just a great place to have as your transit point.

I never quite know what touristy things should be done when I'm at home. Having seen it from the ground floor everything seems a bit too...touristy. That said I've had 5 years of being a tourist and traveller so I guess you just pick a direction and run with it. The direction chosen this time around was a tour of the north cape. Effectively one long sand dune, the north cape is a place with which I feel I am deeply connected. I spent every school holiday of my childhood and then some camping in a wonderful small spot called Houhora, my maternal great grandparents raised their family a few miles further north in Nagtaki digging for karui gum and running the local stores, and I studied archaeological digs and the prehistory of the area all the way through Uni. So a tour of the place seemed an interesting thing to do.

It hasn't changed outwardly in 25 years. The drive up to Kaitaia took us through places I either vividly remembered or didn't know at all but it was still the most beautiful thing you could wish to see. Greens and blues - sky, ocean and tree covered hill - blended into each other or clashed at a yellow strip of sand. We could hear cicadas everywhere and for the first time in 2 years I knew it was summer. Tane Mahuta - largest of the known Kauri trees still standing - was a great stop. Such a short walk from the road and you wouldn't otherwise know it was there!

Arriving in Kaitaia I was surprised at how busy it was. I can recall it being a dying area where most of the shops were boarded up and the people unemployed. Now however its got a pak n save, warehouse and postie plus - sure signs things aren't going too badly.

The bus that was to take us to the north cape arrived right on time the next morning complete with local moari tour guide, asian tourists and sleds for the sand dunes at the top of 90 Mile Beach. First stop was the Kauri cafe, then onwards north stopping every half hour or hour to expell us onto the white silica sands in admiration of their purity or the best ice creams in the north (complete with dinosaur sweet on top) or to buy the sweetest freshest sweetcorn the north has to offer (3 for $1 - a bargain). We stopped at Houhora which was very nostalgic. The guide was good friends with the former manager of the place as was my pappy. They had a good chat about old times while I watched a boat called the Cara be put on the water. Its exactly that kind of thing that gets more spiritualist people worked up about fate and coincidence!

Then we continued north driving through ever larger Avocado orchards and Tribe owned lands. Slowly but surely the roads got smaller and in rougher condition until eventually we were driving toward Cape Reinga along a metal road (for the foreigners out there thats an unsealed road) arriving just before lunch. One good thing about the poor state of the road is it discourages billions of tourists ravaging the place - only several thousand make the trip on bus and in car a year. However there must be enough to support a troupe of local Maoris - we were entertained by them breifly as they put on a show at the base of the lighthouse. From The pinnacle of the country we turned south once more (or south west I guess) heading to a nearby inlet for lunch.

I hadn't realised it but my dad had spent a bit of his youth (misspent?) travelling around the country surfing and being a pain in the butt to the locals and we visited quite a few spots he recognised from those days. As I said I have a deep connection with the area and its not all my fault! :-)

After this it was time for that oft neglected sport of sand dune sledging. I can tell you now that it's neglected because those dunes are a long way up, there aren't any rope tows and its a lot of work if you want to go down more than once!

The sledges we had were traditional snow sledges for kids. They don't work so well for folk over, say, 13 stone. On the reverse side if your on the much lighter side of 9 stone you fly down the slope watching your life flash before your eyes and wondering if the sledge has brakes or steering! Well worth the effort but possibly not a second go if you value your internal or external body parts(the sand blowing off the top of the dunes was saving me the hassle of shaving my legs and filling my lungs at the same time).

Then it was on to 90 mile beach to race along it at 80km/hr in the bus stopping here and there for that all important photo of little Timmy wading in the water or that personal exploration of the absorbant properties of dune-based sand. The beach is not infact 90 miles long - our lovely driver told us it was 76 or so. A mere short stroll one end to the other (if you walk marathons for fun)! Its the only beach I have so far come across that is a recognised highway and is governed by the same road rules as the other highways in the country. Not sure what the road rules say about mooning buses of tourists as you overtake them but I can say the older ladies on our bus thought it was hilarious...

As you can imagine we were one of many buses doing the tour that day. While we never had more than 2 other buses loads unloading at the same spot we did get to see a group get growled at for consistently being late to the bus and saw another couple of young lads be asked to apologise to their group for delaying them for 25 minutes! And - best of all - we got to see one bus stuck in the sand at the off-ramp on 90 Mile Beach. Why the driver picked the part of the ramp that was all sand and no solid base I don't know but you can bet he felt like a Wally for doing it and probably wont ever do it again!

From this part of the beach we were all of 20 minutes from the Kauri Cafe again. This is the stop where the buses all go to get the sand and salt washed off so you can bet the people who own the place are making megabucks of the double tap! Fortunately I neither need nor can afford a $62,000 Kauri Guitar or a $300 t-shirt so I stuck with el-cheapo presents like possum socks and greenstone necklaces.

While I've buzed over the trip pretty quickly here it was so cool to do this trip. Its the kind of thing locals only do if they really have to because Aunty Matildas come for her first big trip and you don't know enough about where she wants to go to be a good tour guide so I felt quite privilged to be able to walk onto the bus with that confidence and touristy arrogance that says 'Take me! Show me!' (I mentioned this earlier didn't I?!). Its truly good to be a tourist on your own doorstep. Good for the national pride! Give it a go some time. I'm sure you will surprise yourself and you meet the nicest people when you travel! :-)

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From Braco we aimed north and for JO'Gs via Pitlochry then via Inverness then north to Wick where we stopped to take a look at Wicks Old Castle. A chance discovery that was just a ruined tower on a cliffs edge - very dramatic but much more for the fact that the Atlantic was completely still like glass and the grey colour of teh sky to the point where you couldn't tell where one started and the other ended - a truly magical sight!

We amazed at the brightness of the gorse (a weed in NZ) and the landscape and the glass like ocean and the dozens of tiny little villages hugging cliffs or sprawling across bleak moor-liek landscapes. Its truly a different world up there.

From Wick we carried on up to John O Groats, so we've done end to end of this fair isle, then on to Dunnet head to truly reach the top of the country. We looked at the little crofts on the islands off this coast and admired the birds swooping and floating on the air buffetting the cliffs and just amazed at the absolute bleakness of this most nothern place. And we carried on.

We were looking for a B&B and though we stopped here and there there wasn't anything that didn't make you feel a little uncomfortable until finally we came to Betty Hill and an interesting B&B at the top of the hill before the hotel. A family run farm running off the main road through the village - they had a stag called merlin or something similar up in the hills behind the house and one brother lived on one side and across the road and another in the family home all farmers or at least helping out. the landlady in her 80s was as energetic as someone 40 years younger and an absolute treasure. The beds were comfortable and night didn't arrive til well after 10pm! The hotel restaurant feed you as if you were 20 stone and starving and the young waitress was a very sweet girl so they got the thumbs up as well. There were sheep everywhere with their wool falling off. Mum was hopeful they were the new breed that self sheers (or sheads I guess) but it is apparently some sort of parasite and the common grazing encourages it so some farmers have invested a lot of money in fencing out these poor infected animals. A bit of a downer but very interesting to hear about the route cause being the removal of the law for dipping and the police observation. I could go on about this and the removal of the in-hospital training of nurses but I wont - get in touch if you really want to hear my world chagning arguments! :-)

After a scrummy breakfast (Full english/scottish breakfasts are the whole reason for B&Bs I tell you now!) we headed further around the coast aiming for the middle of this most northerly tip so we could head back south. Little did we know this was going to be the start of an EXTREMELY long day!

We set off and the weather was immediately better than it had been all week - sunshine and calm skies as far as you could see. The countryside reminded me of postcards I've received from America - mountains and valleys and rocky bedded rivers - just fantastic. And then we rounded a corner and my breath was truly taken away. We had come to the top of a Loch that was glassy and reflected perfectly the mountains rising up from its southern end. the hills sides to either side were all colours of heather and grass and rock and it was just the most magical thing I have ever seen. I'll dig out a photo and post it soon...

We travelled the full length of the Loch and rounded the southern most tip aiming south and for Lairg - home town of a good friend of my dads. Having come up the east coast and seen the bleakness stretching out towards the grey ocean heading down the middle where it was a little more craggy and a lot less coastal (surprise, surprise) was a nice change. The roadside around the aforementioned loch warned campervans (Achtung!) to watch out for sheep and lambs and to go slowly in german and in english and provided entertainment for a short time before we then hit the less interesting landscapes that lead toward Lairg. This town is fairly picturesque and sat in a much more hilly, loch side location than what we had been passing through. It had a distinctly swiss feel to it (something about the houses) and was quite small so we didn't stop long but headed on south aiming for Inverness again where we would transfer over to the West Coast (like my scottish home) and head down beside Loch Ness.

The east coast of scotland is quite different to the west coast in that the dramatic highland landscapes of the westcoast are a complete contrast to the largely moor-like (yet still dramatic) land of the east and the swtich from East to West is immediately apparent. It was like crossing into a completely different country. Perhaps it was this that kept us going...on and on. We headed down Loch Ness through villages and towns thinking if we were lucky we may make it past Fort William but no problem if not - we'd just get a room there for the night. We made such good time we got into and through Fort Augustus then Fort William well before we expected and headed south for Inverary (via a small detour because I read the map wrong!) and toward some lunch.

The first port of call on the way was past Ballachulish and into Glen Coe. If I were to say that anywhere was my spiritual home I would say it was this place. Which really does prove I'm over dramatic. That said I an honestly say it is truly the most beautiful place in all of Britian and probably all of Europe. And this time round it was crawling with ramblers. I will say no more.

From Glen Coe we aimed for Inverary and just enjoyed the ride... Lunch here we come.

Having made a habit this trip of having toasted ham sandwiches for my midday repast I was quite looking forward to the same when we hit inverary but it was not to be. We arrived amid a sea of motorbikes (well it was a good day for a ride) and parked up to have a look about. We wandered up the small main street and found the one or two eateries that looked promising and then decided on teh chippy (what can I offer as excuse but we were hungry?) I was quite amazed to discover that you can by a deep fried and battered black pudding the size of a small truncheon for your lunch in Inverary... That should have warned us. But we decided to try scottish fish and chips in teh hope they would be better than the ones we had in England. After 5 years I do know better than this and I still remain hopeful and optimistic. No the food was not better and I should have held out for a ham toastie but things cannot be undone so we will move on!

Replenished we did a bit of souvenir shopping (tartan hats with ginger wigs attached etc...) and then decided we should aim for Rest and Be Thankful. Another highlight from mum and dads last trip here where we went to Oban and decided to get the coach back to Glasgow rather than wait for the train. We had a magical trip that trip and saw seals in the bay, the family castle, Tobermory, and the coach ride topped it off (before Glasgow at least - the city had lots more to offer us when we arrived). Rest and Be Thankful is... I guess its the top of a Valley. The old road used to wind up from the Valley floor along the sides of a steep highland mountain to one side before reaching a point where you could stop, rest and be thankful that you had made it up the hill and it was all downhill from here. Its a magic place and I recommend passing by just to see it!

From here we were doing so well we headed for Glasgow (and Firkin point so I could finally get 'that' photo). We made such good time we decided to keep on going and aim for as far as we could get before we could go no further, or home. Whichever came first.

Dad was a legend - he drove all but 1 1/2 hours of the 16 hour journey. We made it back to Cambridge somewhere around midnight totally amazed that we'd done it. All the way from the top of the country! What a way to see Scotland. Bear in mind we've spent a lot of time in Scotland we were just doing a hit and run tour of the places we wanted to see once more really! And just so you know:
It takes longer to crawl up the east coast than drive down the west coast
And no we didn't see Nessy. I looked though! ;-)

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I wont go on about Rome because I have done this at least twice and maybe more previously but this trip was totally different. We were mucked about by the B&B folk and I recind my recommendations of them now as the new folk are rubbish. However after a battle of wills we got the room we booked and the view etc and took a walking tour looking for diinner. This time around we found Largo Argentina (many times - one of those spots we kept stumbling across) and ate in a cool little pub that was showing the Americas cup (Dad was happy) and strolled about taking in the forum and colloseum and all those things nearby. Over the next three days, after much walking and a scam artist ((I've lost my wallet and cant buy petrol - if I give you a leather jacket will you give me money etc etc etc) and gelato and sun and bustle we got a ticket to one of the tour buses which was well worth it! Dad got to walk along the ring of circo massimo and mum got to the tiberine island and we all wandered up and 'admired' the hoardes of people at St Peters... More gelato (no surprise there)...we also found a fantastic little restaurant for dinner the second night and decided that was where we were going forever more but it was closed the next night...possibly a good reason to get us looking farther afield for our supper!
It rained then was beautifully hot and sunny... the crowds were astounding and the toutes are now all of a different ethinic background and MUCH more creepy than those that occupied the streets on my previous trips.
We had the most fantastic hail storm - just after we had returned to the B&B on teh second day it chucked it down with hail stones the size of golf balls. The streets cleared of everyone apart from the tout selling umbrellas (he did well the day before but I dont think he did so well with the hail). The scooter riders pulled up onto the sidewalks and hid under dooways and anywhere they could find and we all just watched the hail fall for a full half an hour. The place looked like it had been hit with a snow storm for a short time afterwards but the sun popped out and melted it all pretty quickly! It was mad weather!
On our final afternoon Mum and I found a FANTASTIC porceline shop I'd love to live near (but I'd be broke if I did) called Bianca something...Huge baskets of prceline that looked like woven wicker and teeny tiny little pestles and mortars and everything in between - heaven, absolute heaven.
Because it was near easter there were pilgrims everywhere and you couldn't go anywhere without seeing one of three things - nuns/priests/monks; a wall of mopeds at the front of every queue at the traffic lights; hoardes of police men and women at intersections guiding traffic to allow police/ambulance vehicles to get through the almost constant crush of traffic. What a fabulous place!

We tried to get lost and right when we thought we succeeded we walked around a corner and were at the Trevi Fountain so it proves all roads lead to Rome and you can't get lost if thats how it works can you?! I think my mum got a bit of a culture shock - the traffic certainly had her stumped but Dad had ladies blowing him kisses every time he stopped traffic to help mum get across so it can't all be bad can it?!

After Rome we took some time to go up north - aiming for John O'Groats. But you'll have to read the next blog for that info!!

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On March 30th my mum and dad arrived for their much awaited third trip to the UK. This time my sister was pregnant and wee baby Johnson was due a week after they were expecting to get home so you can guess that their minds were perhaps a bit diverted.

Having done no more than book a weekend in Rome we were pretty much able to just write a list of places they wanted to see and plot a course. We started out over Easter travelling first to Great Yarmouth to show mum and dad a true British seaside resort town (and the seals near Horsey). We got to do lots of shopping for tack and ate fish and chips that were NOT good strolled the promenade and just soaked up this uniquely British tradition. Anton and I stay in a wicked cottage we hire through a friend of Anton’s mums and it was fantastic to be able to show mum and dad one of the places I've spoken about so much. It was also a chance to take Jack somewhere with us. As a huge dog he’s a little hard to take everywhere! But Great Yarmouth loves our dog and we can't walk more than 50 yards at a time without being stopped so people can pat him!

After a couple of days in Great Yarmouth we headed for Lowestoft as Dad wanted to see if he could buy some fresh fish there (turns out he couldn't) and then Thetford, which was a lovely little town last time we went but has gone to the dogs in the intervening months!

We had one night at home to do the necessary before we set out on our next little jaunt first going to Betws-y-coed in north Wales. My Grandmother went there on one of her trips here with my grandfather (this is going back to just before I was born so its been a while...). We stayed in a farm stay B&B (fabulous views) in a wee village called Clawddnewydd after spending about 1 hour in the actual town we had been to see (it was sooooooo busy you could hardly move). The next morning we set out from the B&B for Chester stopping on the way to see a bit of Ruthin and a random castle on the map. Once in Chester we took the tour of the city walls and shopped and ate and generally enjoyed the atmosphere (despite the chilly weather). A bustling place, it is fantastic to wander around the most complete old city walls in the UK passing old buildings and new apartments and walk around a bend or out past a tower and see beautiful landscaped grounds or the back gardens of old town houses or the magnificent high street or (best of all) these teeny little shops that just service the foot traffic on the walls. After exhausting ourselves seeing as much of this pretty city as we possibly could we headed north to Blackpool - everything that Chester is not!
The weather was grey, cold and dismal - all you can really expect from the first week in April. It was going to get fabulous though.
Blackpool is not a place you visit because you want some high brow culture and tasteful living. The hotel we stayed in was rubbish apart from the excellent breakfasts - absolutely grotty - but the cultural experience of visiting one of the UKs seaside gems was well worth it. We went to Bingo that evening for a laugh. Sat in a room that knows more about blue rinse and ciggies than you could write in an encyclopaedia, we got our heads around how the games all worked (something you MUST be able to get a degree in) and started having a go. I won £7.50 and still do not know how! That pretty much sums up the evening really.
The next day after a walk around and a wee visit to the donkeys on the beach we headed south again to ...brighter climes. Having booked into a BnB we have enjoyed in the past (Bridge Farm - highly recommend it!!) we were eager to be able to get to Cheshire and begin the green, lush northern experience (well - after Blackpool you would be!).
Bridge Farm has Jodrell bank on its back door (almost literally) and is just a stunning 15 century building with 19th century buttery added when the train line went through the area. Complete with fake window (thanks window tax) and low ceilings/beams/doors with honest to goodness latches rather than handles this place is a truly wicked experience. Set near to Holmes Chapel, Knutsford, Wilmslow and so on it was well placed for walks. We particularly enjoyed going around Aulderley Edge (if you happen to be reading Jane Austin when you get to this part of the world your appreciation of the books will double!). The hazy weather lifted considerably so we were able to actually see some of the views but it was short lived!
We spent an entire day at Tatton Park - wandering all over the park and seeing the white deer (real name??) and watching the model planes being flown around and just enjoying this most glorious of estates. we also got ourselves into the gardens and the house which was a terrific experience. Considering the number of ruins we would come across after this little excursion, when I look back now the experience of being at this immaculately preserved house was just brilliant. The gardens just go on and on with such a huge variety of style covered - Japanese, the Maze, Traditional, Bluebell wood etc etc. The topiary and the vege gardens were worth the time we spent just soaking up the size of the operation. To stand in the gardens and imagine this magnificent house at its peak, entertaining or just getting through each days requirements, is astounding. You almost wait for a maid or kitchen hand to come out to gather herbs and vege for the next meal. You can also imagine a swinging '20s lawn party when you stroll out in front of the house to enjoy the view across the park and can totally understand why the more recent members of the family were such adventurers!
Tatton park estate is so well preserved and maintained I'd recommend it as the only estate you'd need to see to get a really good idea of what it was to be upper class in the UK (and get a feel for the working classes in these houses).

After Tatton park we had Treantham gardens to go before heading back to our little flat land home in Cambs. We moved from Bridge Farm to a neat little dairy farm BnB south of Congleton. Farms - that’s dads idea. Its his way of being at home away from home! but it was fabulous and your hosts are just so good at it! The breakfasts are phenomenal, the rooms/houses are full of character and the people are very relaxed about guests in their homes.

Trentham Gardens is enormous and quite commercial. With lots of shops you can imagine what we did for the first hour or two! Shopping itch scratched (not the nicest metaphor - sorry) we then aimed for the Macaques enclosure which was wicked and I will pop some photos up here because they roam free and can actually get quite close. The whole enclosure is absolute huge and it took ages to walk around (that and you keep stopping to photograph macaques or watch them leap around the trees or see the little ones have fights over carrots) but was fab.
From the macaques we aimed for the sensory experience of a foot adventure - walking a course made up of all sorts of surfaces including cold water, mud, pine cones, hay and stones. You can imagine the squealing when we walked through mud up to our calves and the challenge of then not slipping over as we went across little streams and along smooth wooden planks... It was extremely good though it did take a while to wash the mud off!

And finally it was time to head back to Long St Anton and get back to the real world for a day or two before heading off on the next adventure... (come back and I'll tell you more)

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I seem to be in a rather unadventurous period. However, I have still managed a few adventures. I have been photographing things like I know what I am doing, have visited weird and wonderful villages all over the country, have plotted the 'monopoly mile' which I anticipate renaming to something more correct and I have found myself in the lucky position of doing a bit more acting. Its not hollywood or the bbc but its darn good stuff.

A few months ago I did a monologue as a part of the first annual Camfringe Festival. WriteOn is a group of writers, actors, directors who are all there to give the writers the chance to workshop pieces/have pieces read and performed/develop their own creative ability. Its great. The monologue I did was call Red Riding Hood by Anne French. About a young independent women and her confrontation with a middle-aged do-gooder who can't understand anyone walking 'without a dog'! I felt it was hilariously funny if a little twisted by the end. The director Matt really brought out the humour and (thankfully) I managed to get laughs by following script and direction as well as I could.

Its been many months since I last tread boards. Rowing takes up all the time I would normally have for rehearsal (fours head in Nov - watch out for updates). It was great to get the chance to do it all again.

I have another part in October to play with this group - I am an art teacher called Clare. The piece reads really well so it will be interesting to see what its like 'live'.

I do love acting.

Also - sad of sad news - our rooster, Barney, has disappeared. If you see him send him home. He has two chickens he needs to be keeping an eye on! :-)

Other than that I feel like I am doing much of the same stuff. Its still a case of constant wonderment to travel around some of the places I see regularly. After nearly 5 years here I still get a tingle when I see a 'truly English' setting. I have heard of yet more places to see and itch to get the bike out for a really good long tour. If I'm honest I'm too chicken to do it yet but I'm sure I will get there.

I'm hopeful that the wondermen lasts a lifetime. Its a beautiful world!

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I like birthdays. The only bad one so far was 25 when I had a mini flid about being 25 and having achieved nothing in particular. Then I realised I was on the other side of the world, I'd seen more of the world than a lot of my friends and I'd met some of the most brilliant people - basically I got over my flid pretty quickly. When you have Rome in yoru basket of memories and the opportunity to visit it lots more what can possibly bring you down? Turning 29 apparently can!

So I guess I've started a bit of a soul search. I've questioned myself quite a lot lately. I have a few goals but not the single-minded drive about achieving them just yet. I really must change this. (see what I mean?!)

Oh - I have also had a pre-midlife crisis.

But I believe I have mentioned this previously. As an update we are getting along nicely though today I seem to have decided to drive like an idiot. Thats stopping right now.

I think I am in need of a goal. I like plans, making them, working on them then seeing them come to fruition. I like having something to focus on.

Perhaps 2 weeks off rowing has finally gotten to me?

If you have any thoughts on what I can get up to let me know. All (tasteful) suggestions considered!

Ciao - Travelling Mc.

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Its interesting. After nights and nights of not being able to sleep because its too hot the last 2 nights its actually been quite cool and comfortable - but the sun has vanished during the day time.

We had cracking thunder overhead yesterday. It even managed a bit of rain. But that miniature 15 minute thunderstorm has broken the weather. Its not a satisfying situation however. I really love those days where the weather really hangs on you and you just know a storm must be building just out of sight (or at least you hope so - anything to break the unbearable oppressive hot weather) and you get home just in time to see that first flash of lightening and hear that distant crack of thunder slowly rolling towards you. We had some cracking (forgive the pun - and the overuse of the word) thunderstorms last year. Really black clouds and forked lightening crackling and fizzing and ripping through the sky straight for trees and helpless rooftops! Brilliant. More entertaining than an episode of your favourite prime time TV!

But I digress. The weather here - on the plus side - has been interesting and we have managed to get a situation where we work through the grey, boring, cool weather and we have all the good weather at the weekends! It is getting hard to kwno what to wear to work on any given day though!

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When I left NZ I actually wrote a list of all the places I had wanted to see. It reads much as I'm sure anyone elses may read: Paris, Venice, Barcelona, Amsterdam, Florence, Piza, Milan etc.

The last places from the original list are: Vienna, Prague, Madrid and Greece. I admit that 'Greece' doesn't exactly follow the specifics I have set down for the others but I want to go to Athens and I quite fancy taking some photos from a pristine white village in the hills of some greek island overlooking pure blue waters but I have no idea which island other than 'definitely not Rhodes' and 'probably Crete or Kefalonia' - my options are open and I quite like the idea of starting in Athens and then enjoying 2 weeks deciding which island I liked the most. Rhodes notwithstanding of course!

But I digress. Prague. A pillar of 'the list'. A bright shining beam and so obviously the next place to go it was amazing I didn't do it 12 months ago.

The Prague epic will wing its way to everyone on my mailing list (whether they want it or not) in the near future. I'm constructing it even now. However I thought a blog is better than a book in the meantime. If anyone is interested in the epic tale and thinks I may not send it to them - let me know and you to can receive the painfully long and detailed 'no you've read it you don't need to pay to go there' tale of my time in Prague.

Or else you can just enjoy this.

I went to Prague with my cousin Bodhi. He may well have been hoping for a beer fest of epic proportions but he'll have learnt to travel with someone else if thats the case. While the beer was superb I'm not a hefty drinker. I did eat heftily however - they have great food in Prague. The dumplings being the best of it. And the sausages. Fab! Yum! etc...

We arrived on a Tuesday morning in late May and after dropping bags and whatnot at the hotel we headed straight for the metro and the city centre. After an initial worry about whether we would manage navigation in a country where we didn't speak a word of the language we quickly found it was no harder than any other metro we'd ever been on and they even had huge flat screens showing news items and the time the next train was due on the walls! The very c. edge of tech.! Indeed.

The metro was to prove a great achievement. I have learnt my only real Czech sentence from the metro announcements and I'm not even sure if it is a complete sentence. I also discovered I could translate almost anything said over the tannoy - thats how similar the underground networks are. If only I had paid more attention to the phrase for 'mind the gap please'!

We spent our time in Prague wandering the myriad of street, sampling sausages, tasting beers and shopping at many many market stalls and souvenir shops selling Absinthe. We also wandered agog amongst the buildings of the Hrad or castle and took delight in the very European architecture in what felt like a very gothic city.

It wasn't at all what I expected. I think I had a mental image of the onion domes in Moscow and anticipated a true eastern European atmosphere stuck in medieval times and instead we could have been in a slightly Germanic version of Paris or Barcelona. It was lovely though. Worth the time and effort to go there, worth the miles and miles we walked. Just to taste the flavour of the city and see how effortlessly the past has melded with modern times. The beautiful facades of so many buildings were a distraction to tantalise an antipodean imagination. Tales of Kings and Queens, saints and persecution are probably why I had a strong sense of some sort of potential eastern/Arthurian setting. But being there and learning more about the city's history and what they have suffered in their time was a great experience.

Tuesday we spent orienting ourselves. We found a brilliant aussie owned pub (typical - looking for something traditionally Czech and we get aussie!) and were guided by the owner to find a shrivelled arm hung on a wall, which we promptly did (after we'd finished our beers of course). We explored all over the city and went to the Charles bridge (Karel Most) and looked at all the amazing statues and the street stalls and the views. We got intermittently rained on in true old-fashioned Spring-time style. We managed to take more photos than you could think possible! We stopped at dozens and dozens of little shops looking for just the right kind of Absinthe at just the right price. We bought crazy gifts and souvenirs and I marvelled at how a country can have Russian dolls as both a poke at the russians and a thriving souvenir trade. We found asupermarket. We couldn't find a post box. We found a dozen kebab stalls, we couldn't find a Czech restaurant for dinner. We chose the most Czech looking meals on the menu of the restaurant we did find and we delighted inFrench cuisine, czech style. But I do not complain. The meal we ate then was glorious and a good introduction. We were to eat our fill of Czech food on Wednesday.

Wednesday we reserved mostly for the Castle and a bit of shopping. Time flies when you're looking at Castles. The Prague Hrad is fabulous. An enclosure of buildings that must have been a whole other world in its hey-day that will occupy a lifetime if you don't plan in advance. After a short orientational wander we decided to retreat to a recommended cafe and get our plans sorted. This involved reading selected parts of the travel guide we had and ticking the boxes. Post refreshment we headed back to the throng and got a ticket that included the cathedral, tower, old palace and golden lane. The cathedral was much better than expected but rather like the Mens Abbey in Caen, Normandy. It did have an empty feel too it - like it wasn't used for services anymore.
The tower was nearly 300 steps straight up. All that rowing has kept me fit for stair climbing at least! The view from the tower is brilliant and you could see all of Prague below - a wave of terracotta roof tiles and pale yellow walls as far as you could see with lush and leafy green trees peppered here, there and everywhere between.

From the tower we spent too long wandering in the drizzle (that regularly turned to down pour before returning to drizzle) looking for how to get into the old palace. All the signs that said 'old palace' kept leading us to other places where we would be turned back by ticket takers to wander around aimlessly once again. I began to feel that tourism in Prague had a lot to learn from places like Notre Dame or the Colloseum!

We eventually found the entry (well - they didn't stop us) after bumping into several groups who were also struggling to find the entry and had a good explore around. You could go all over the place from the great hall and its brilliantly preserved wooden floor (though it may not be original) where you could easily imagine huge banquets and lavish balls taking place, to bedrooms and chapels where you struggled to imagine someone wanting to sleep in such a cold looking place. The rooms only had sparse furnishing and would have been really interesting if at least one were set up as it would have been but they were still brilliant to get to.

After running around all over the place and double checking we'd seen it all it was time to move on. My tummy was grumbling (not rumbling note - grumbling) and we still had the Golden lane to visit. At which point the heavens opened. Fortunately a sign saying 'Torture devices' was just near the entryway - thusly were we enticed! (wasn't the rain that encouraged us inside at all!)

From what I can assume the Golden lane runs the length of the outer wall and the buildings are a part of that wall. There was a long gallery with lots of armour and weapons on display and it even still had working peep hole things that twisted so archers could defend to any angle from the window. There were costumes of the day and finally at teh end of the gallery an archery thing set up so you could try your hand at shooting targets. Bodhi had a go and managed to hit the target at least twice! ;-)

After wandering up and down the gallery we finally came aross the torture chamber. It was the size of a small double bedroom and had a skeleton on the rack and lots of devices hung all over the place. It was also right next to the privy which I thought was intriguing - is that all part of the torture?

The rest of the golden lane is little souvenir and craft shops or cafes so we headed into the rain and aimed for the powder tower (or at least thats what I thinks its called).

To get inside the tower you have to walkdown a series of steps and then another series of steps feeling like you are sinking deeper and deeper into the ground. However the tower is built at the river edge of the castle - the down hill side - so it actually sticks out of the hill rather than into the ground and sunshine still peeps in the windows. Very weird.

It is called the powder tower because thats what was kept in it btw. There wasn't an enormous amount to see but it was worth the walk.

And once that job was done and we were back outside again my tummy decided it would go on strike if I didn't get some food so we aimed down the hill and back to town.

We found a brilliant restaurant that did proper Czech food and had a four course meal for about £10 including beers right at the edge of the Jewish quarter. My stomach may never complain about being hungry again I ate so much. I had rabbit as my main and Bodhi had duck and both dishes came with dumpling - I don't think I've ever eaten so much. It was heaven on a plate!

From there we found out a bit more about the old Jewish Ghetto and decided to make that our stop for Thursday before heading home.

Then it was back to town for more wandering and shopping... Wednesday night we went back in to town quite late for a quick bite and a drink. We just randomly picked streets to go down and came across the weirdest street art (like a Zombie fair), came across the 'other' Powder tower and city walls, down all sorts of alleys until we once again located the aussies pub! I think Bodhi got some great photos of the Zombies and the tower but I am afraid I didn't have my camera with me.

Thursday we headed straight for the Jewish quarter and got ourselves sorted to visit various synagogues and the Jewish cemetary. This was a really worthy visit. As a bit of recent history; at the time of the second world war the Jews in Prague and over most of Czechoslovakia (Bohemia and Moravia if you prefer) were effectively herded into ghettos as they were in Poland and elsewhere the Nazis managed to take over. The now well known atrocities were carried out. The children were excluded from schools and the parents were forced out of jobs, families were put under enormous pressure and tens of thousands of people were forced to live in more than cramped conditions surviving day to day fearful for their lives. Most were shipped out to concentration camps and didn't survive the war. The ghetto was mostly knocked down to make way for building a new posh area of town but the synagogues were preserved. Hitler having the master stroke idea of using this small area as a museum to an extint race/culture. Charming chap, wouldn't you say!?

This is also the home to the Golem so there is lots to keep you interested. The synagogues are lovely slightly austere buildings and the Jewish communittee has made the absolute most of them to serve as a reminder of the horrors of the 'great wars' and the resounding strength of a people almost persecuted into extinction. In a pristine, clearly wealthy setting this small area is like a haven and a terrible reminder at the same time. I'd recommend it to anyone. The cemetary where the headstones are piled up dozens of layers deep and the signs tell you the dead were buried 12 layers deep is shocking and peaceful at the same time.

After such a weighty tour we lightened the mood a bit by stopping at a supermarket on our way back to the hotel for one last chance to bring a wee bit of prague home with us.

Bodhi achieved what I believed to be impossible - 20 bottles of beer and enough sausage to sink a fizz boat. We made sure we had all sorts of little things we'd not seen in the UK and then had the pack them all in our backpacks to ensure they'd get on the plane.

We were 2kg underweight! Oh the relief.

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I am off to Prague soon with my cousin. We are (aka I am) fairly disorganised this trip - normally I have some expectations and some 'must sees/dos' and I plot my trip around that but this time I just want to be there. My feet are itchy to get travelling again. Unsurprising my favourite places are calling me back - Scotland and Italy - but Prague is one of the last places I wanted to mentally tick off my 'been there, done that' travelling list and it is great to think I'm finally making steps towards seeing these last few places!

I'm really looking forward to a feel of a new culture. Travelling around Europe has been like wrapping myself up in a new cloak at every stop. Some cloaks have been woolly and warm, some have been light and breezy but almost all have been really special cloaks that I've put away in my mental wardrobe for future reference. I can understand why some people spend their entire lives travelling about - never settling to one stop or returning home.

I don't think I could not return home. There is nothing like being able to share those childhood memories with people who understand, joke about those old familiar things with pople who know what it means, speak the lingo, eat the food (nothing like kiwi fish n chips), be surrounded by loved ones - thats a different cloak altoghether.

That and my hayfever was much more manageable in NZ! ;-)

SO I am going to Prague. The most anyone can really tell you is 'its great - cheap beer' and apparently theres a river. I've done about 5 minutes googling on it and will go to the Charles Bridge and the castles and the churches. I'm sure Bodhi has some plans so no doubt we will have a terrific time.

The anticipation is fantastic!

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Well the daffs are out. The birds are twittering away in the early hours and I can finally walk the dog in daylight of an evening but thats about all that has happened Spring-wise. Its still bitterly cold.

But I didn't start this just to tell you about our semi-wintery Spring (well not as a main subject).

Sunday 9th April was Bedford Small Boats Head of the River Race (Or BSBH if you're in the know!)
For some masochistic reason I was down to cox and Antony was down to race in division two at 10am on Sunday morning which meant an early start to get to Bedford and put the boats together ready to race. The day started out better than you could imagine - hardly a cloud in the sky and just brilliant sunshine as far as the eye could see! We got to Bedford in time to get boats put haphazardly together and sort out who was rowing where and set off down the river for our first race. It was a novice mens 4 and I got soaked in my position at the bow of the boat (you have stern loaders and bow loaders which relates to where the cox sits and this boat what a bow loader so I wa sat the rowers mercy when it came to splashes off the blades!) but they did well for a first off-Cam race.
My own crew arrived well in advance of our race. We had time enough to stand sunning ourselves and talking tactics before boating and even got warm enough on the trip down to peel off a layer or two at the start area. Thats where it all goes a bit pear shaped. About 1 minute before we started the race the temperature dropped at least 4 degrees very suddenly. But it didn't feel like it was going to rain so we just htought - its cold lets get the race started.

We set off at a good pace and were at full tilt over the start line. Our cox, Muppet, set us up a good line to take and was talking us through the race as we went. The rhythm was struggling to settle through the boat and we weren't making the most of each stroke but we were holding our own. Then I caught a minor crab (where the blade sucks into the water rather than out of it at the end of a stroke). At about this time it started to hail on us - little tiny stinging bits of hail which rapidly turned to sleety snow. Then a senior womens boat from Guildford turned up on our stern. They raced up on us and we all thought they would fly by and we would be left trailing but after about 4 strokes I thought - they're still there. Muppet yelled out loud enough for the whole of Guildfords boat to hear 'We're holding them off - GOOD GIRLS!' and that seemed to do it for us - we just settled our stroke into a really good strong solid pull and that was it for them. They just couldn't lift the boat any faster after that. We held them off for at least 1500m before they started to push past but by this time they had been trying to overtake on the outside of a corner for so long they were burnt out and we managed to stick with them right to the finish!

By the time we passed the finish line the sleet was bucketing down and the ground was at least an inch thick with it. When I got out to hold the boat to shore to allow everyone else out I abandoned shoes to do so and ended up stuck to the icy grass by my socks. We lugged the boat to the trestles and I then had to rapidly change from one set of soaked gear to another to cox the next race. Which I can tell you was the least pleasant thing you could chose to do of your own free will on a Sunday afternoon.

The boat, when we got it in the water, was full of ice which I pushed to where my feet would be so at least I wouldn't be lying on it to start. We paddled down through sleet and got to the start line. When we started the race one rower nearly lost his oar when the gate holding it onto the rigger burst open. Luckily we hadn't passed the start so we stopped, hooked up and got on our way really fast. The crew did awesomely - possibly the nicest boat I have ever been in as a cox. Perfectly sat and moving so quickly and smoothly through the water you would never have known we had about 30 kilos of water weighing the boat down (all that melted ice!) We just flew to the finish. I cold barely talk to the crew my teeth were chattering so much but I really don't think they minded!

I can tell anyone interested that the novice crew I row with beat two of our senior womens crews time-wise on the day. We did the 2km course through a head wind and sleet in 8 minutes 23 seconds and came in 4th place in our division by 12 seconds. We have consoled ourselves that earlier crews had tail winds and no sleet and we know for a fact what kind of difference head and tail winds can make to a time so we are very happy with our performance.

If you are at all interested in seeing the photos the official photographer took on the day they can be found at http://www.rowphoto.co.uk/events.php?event=bedford_spring_sbh_2006&club=Cambridge%2099. Please note the photographer was not tough enough to stick with it through the hail so he missed the chance to get any pics of our fantastic finish but you can see me coxing boat 68 and can see a few of the other rowers at my club racing away! If I find any pics of my crew I promise to put a link to them here!

Hope all is well around the world. If anyone is hogging all the summer time weather please send it this way!

Cox out!

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With that in mind try fitting this into your mental image: I row for Cambridge...Cambridge 99s that is. But its a valid Cambridge Club.

Rowing is a surprisingly difficult sport. You sit on a moving seat with an 8 - 10 foot pole stuck out to one side not only trying to do exactly what everyone else is doing but to do it at precisely the same time and hope that makes the boat steady. Because they are NOT steady. The slightest little thing will tilt the boat to one side or the other. Which doesn't sound too tragic until you figure in the fact that you are sitting approximately 3 inches from the top of the boat on your little moving seat and as soon as the boat tilts you can't get your oar (blade) out of the water without seriously squashing your legs in the process. And if the oar doesn't come out of the water there is a high chance that you will go IN the water. And you play this lovely little game for about 2 hours an outing.

Why do we do it? Well - hold that question - there's a bit more to come...

We are working rowers. Fortunately we are not expected to get up to row at 6am every day of the week (maybe just once a week). To re-phrase the title We work and we row. If we are not at work or asleep we are doing rowing related stuff.

Why do we do it? Hang on theres more to come.

I'm a novice. That is the lowest level of commitment required at club level. We do approximately 8 to 10 hours of rowing related activity a week. I also cox a novice mens squad. So I spend another 6 to 8 hours with that crew. Its a part time job already. And when either crew goes up to intermediate level its going to be double the work.

So why do we do it? Turns out its addictive. Its as hard as martial arts and requires somewhere near the same level of focus and commitment. After nearly 4 years here I have finally found my Kiaido Ryu subsitute. It feels like a family and there is a common goal (beat the other clubs on the river).

Life is still good.

Now all I need is my new passport and I can start putting some travel epics up on here again.

Ciao.

Travelling Mc.

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While I was the meagre party - Paris was not in anyway. We visited absolutely everything - The Louvre, Notre Dame, Sacre Coure (sp? apologies for any glaring spelling mistakes), The Eiffel Tower, Arc d'Triumphe, the Latin Quater, the Moulin Rouge and on and on. We rollerbladed, tasted and sampled and trekked all over just having a ball. On my second visit to the city only Napoleans tomb was new to me thats how much ground we covered that first visit.

After Paris I visited Strasbourg (which is a border city and has been both german and french many times in its history but I believe for now it rests on officially french soil). A disappointing city that really only offers moderately good shopping (a fantastic array of warm winter jackets at excellent prices if you go at the right time of year) and a fascinating ancient quarter and some impressive architecture. The rest of the city is not worth the money you'd spend on getting there. (Oh - the trams are quite neat but only because its supposed to be some sort of European hub City so I discount them as merely for show.) Basically the weather was cold and so were the people. They all speak Dutch German and French - until a foreigner asks them a question in one of those languages and suddenly they don't understand you... I don't wish to start a one woman campaign against Strasbourg but I will not be recommending it any time soon.

I have also had the delight to visit Beane (Pncd 'Bone'), Avignon (gorgeous!) the Beaujolias wine region, The Bordeaux wine region, Cannes, Cann, Oistreham (by default of this being the harbour our ferry landed at), Nice, Fontainebleau, the French Riviera (in particular Biot where we stayed), Calais of course (see comment for Oistreham), Nimes, Le Grande Mott, Sete, Montpellier... the list just gets longer.

I can highly recommend the south of France. The sun shines, there are beautiful beaches and people and the food is to die for. The closer to Catalonia you get the more you begin to feel like you are in Barcelona and as you head in the opposite direction you can really feel the glitz and glamour of Monacco filtering down along the coast. I can honestly say I think of heavenly blue skies, hot days and basking on the beach when I think of the south of France.

What I have noticed:
- the food is almost always good. Without a doubt the subtlty and variety of the flavours will always catch you off guard.
- People watching is a valid tourist past time. Anywhere. At any time of day. Even watching other tourists is valid.
- The further north you go the more you need to make an effort to speak french.
- Lace is the local speciality of far too many places in France.
- Eating every new food you come across will make you fat in a few days in France. In fact anywhere in Europe. Pace yourself. Even if you have eaten a local version of a french meal where you come from you have not really tried it until you eat it in France. And that immediately leads to sampling everything - whether you are hungry or not. It takes a huge amount of will power at first to just say no. And to realise that you can always try it another time. As I said Pace yourself.
- France has a better range of souvenirs than most other european countries (well - the ones I have visited anyway). Buy souvenirs in France. That said Italy does a whole different range - but that is for another blog!

I hope that proves useful to you one day. Visit France.

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Here in Jolly England its chilly and rather damp. The early winter promise of snow has not yet materialised but to be honest if you live south of the highlands you can't expect too much!

Cambridge's threatened christmas lights are safely up and glowing like little balls of warmth against the winter chill and all the bungalows in our village are currently holding a christmas decoration competition that Tim "the Toolman" Taylor would be proud of. When you consider that bungalows in England are typically the residence of retired folk who can no longer manage stairs you will see a whole new facet for humour in this comment!

The pressies are wrapped, the chockies have all been bought, the parties are almost all over - Christmas is nearly here! The primary differences between NZ and UK have been discussed ad nuseum with a dozen different people who are fascinated by the concept of cold meat and salad on Christmas day (and when you mention the water fights their eyes positively bug out!), and everyone is negotiating with everyone else about who will stay and work through the week between boxing day and new years!

Christmas was a smart move by the catholic church. Deciding to take over the pagan winter solstice festival was a display of immense wisdom. I say this because if they had not allowed people in the northern hemisphere to celebrate at the heart of this most dark and gloomy time they wouldn't have had followers for long. As it is Cambridge town centre with its cute lights flashing and glowing from 3pm everyday and brightening everybodies previously gloomy spirits.

I am hopeful of snow on Christmas day. I missed it last year because I was celebrating kiwi-style (in the sun) but this year we are heading north and north is where the snow is (I hope!)

So joyeux noel from me to you. Happy Winter or Sunny Summer depending on where you are. Best Wishes and if I son't see you before New Years - have a good one!
C. (Travelling Mc)

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Cambridge - for those of you not familiar with the area - is situated pretty much in the heart of East Anglia in its own county (Cambridgehire). We are a 45 minute train ride north of London and only 30 minutes from Stansted airport which gives me all the benefits of easy to reach hustle n bustle as well as a great international transport network. What more can a girl ask for?

The city is situated on the river Cam (hence the name) and is most well-known for its University and its Boat Race (and indirectly the friendly competitiveness with 'rival' university city Oxford). Rowing is a local pasttime and a great way to get a completely different view of the area. However if you only visit for a short time most people would recommend hiring a punt and seeing the sights that way. I would recommend this to you with 2 additions: Champagne and Strawberries. Or Pimms and lemonade if you prefer!

Cambridge is also 'The City of Cycles'. Popular myth has it that almost everyone in Cambridge owns a stolen bike - not that they necessarily stole it themselves, more likely they bought it from a mate who got it cheap from a bloke 'with connections' - but considering the number of bikes that get nicked every week I'm going to guess that there is some truth to the tale. Because East Anglia is 'Fen land' its almost completely flat which means that biking everywhere is fairly fuss free and with most of the centre of the city being pedestrian-only riding a bike is much more convenient than having a car.

There are 4 main commons: Jesus Green, Parkers Piece, Midsummer Common and the Mill. Each has its popluar uses and summer is definitely the time to make the most of them. Midsummer common hosts the strawberry fair and countless amusement fairs and a circus or two each year; Jesus green is where students and locals alike go to play football and tennis and skate and muck about; Parkers Piece plays host to pretty much anything slightly more high brow than would feature on Midsummer common as well as being the playing fields for Parkside School (and great for snow fights in winter); and The Mill is a great drinking space. In the middle of summer its either strewn with comatose bodies or plastic cups and disposable BBQ's. Its also a good space to watch novice punters fall off their punts (my 'tip of the week').

There are many good eateries including a LOAD of pizza places and wine bars. There are 3 cinemas as well as a bowling alley and various pool halls if you like that kind of thing. The local nightclubs are good fun after a drink or two and the whole area is absolutely stuffed with fantastic pubs in which to enjoy a Sunday lunch or a romantic meal any time you fancy.

The architecture of the city never fails to please me. Due to several big building projects there has been a lot of archaeological digs going on which I've taken the opportunity to poke my nose into whenever I can. If you like churches then Great St Marys is worth a stop - go up the tower for a brilliant view of the city. The colleges of the university are brilliant. There is so much more to them than impressive walls and court yards - being invited to dine at any of them is well worth the experience. The May Balls (held in June) are brilliant and the tickets always go quickly despite being priced up to £500 and I can say that they are more than worth the money.

If you come during winter - especially around halloween - you can do Ghost Walks and scare yourself silly (if you like that kind of thing). Or else you can enjoy the splendour of this centuries old town in the heat of summer idly wandering from bar to bar, cafe to cafe, common to common (via the market square) and just soak it all up as you go.

So now I've done this advertisement, you should come and visit.

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Its Friday and a lot has been happening lately.
The sad news: Our beautiful Charlie Dog has moved on to heavenly pastures new. We miss him lots but know it was for the best.

The bad news: My fast faffless and fearless rowing four failed to overcome at our first race. However we are cheering ourselves up with the thought that it may well be the last race we ever lose!

The glad news: I passed my bike test. I am now licenced to ride any motorbike I fancy leaping on! Provided I have the correct protective clothing and insurance that is! :-)

We are now in countdown mode for our brief trip home to NZ. We are not making lots of plans because this could well be our only holiday this year and I want to do vegetable impressions (lots of sitting around!) for a bit of it but so far we are aiming to go to the hot pools (a must do - if you have never been to one then next time your in Sweden or NZ get yourself along to the hotpools!), Anton wants to go diving (I suspect I will have to do that with him), I am seeing an old friend for her hens weekend and we are celebrating my grandparents 25 years of marriage! Oh and of course we will be spending time with Little Miss Emma - my niece.

Other than that things here in Cambridge are cooling down. The weather has become autumnal (though the sun is currently shining) and the evenings are drawing in. Already we are dreaming of next summer (well - of christmas too but I have too say we are also looking further ahead at the same time!).

Roll on October...

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We took my cousin, Bodhi, to visit the park and were lucky enough to hold a fox cub and the buzzard and then we got to play with the wolves who were so excited to have people visiting them they were just running around like crazy! Ishka, the female, was seriously molting and, when she wasn't running about she'd fall flat on her back for her tummy to be rubbed. Odin was calmer and jsut in heaven when you patted him. (As a bit of background Anton used to volunteer at the park and played with the wolves quite a lot so they are super good around him. The wolves were caught being brought into the country by a film company, from eastern Europe. They have been highly socialised and well trained for their film work so they are incredibly good with people. The authorities rehomed Ishka and Odin at Shepreth because the park has a lot of experience with wolves!)

I took my camera and my new zoom lens with me and caught some fantastic photos of the spider monkeys and the prairie dogs but by far the best were of the tigers being fed. For the carnivorous animals the keepers hide their food around their enclosures so they have to hunt around to find it as a bit of stimulus. There is a massive big pole to one end of the Tigers area with a tyre hung on it. As you can see from the photos above Rana found the lump of meat in the tyre and had a good time jumping up to retrieve it! I managed to get half a dozen photos of Amba and Rana making the most of their meals before we went off to see the otters and look for ice cream.

After making sure we had seen everything including the chipmunks, the lizard and snake room and the rest of the monkeys it was time to head off! Good times!

If you are ever in the area looking for something ot do get down to Shepreth. Darned fine wildlife park!

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As a budding member of Bawds Am-Dram soc here in Cambs I have been lucky enough to be in a couple of plays but I haven't made much time to go and see any so I decided it was high time I did. Hayfever had a lot of people I have performed with in it so that seemed like a good choice. Its a typically odd Noel Coward comedy and was performed brilliantly. I was a bit confused as the what the heck was going on at first but it all came together and was very funny. Still odd but very funny.

After that I got the opportunity, through my wonderful cousin Jenny, to see Shakespeares Comedy of Errors at the Rougemont Gardens in Exeter which was (after a slow start) BRILLIANT! The performance was hilarious and the setting was perfect. Its not a play I know so it was intriguing to see it for the first time and try and keep up with all the action but the performers were so convincing and their timing was immaculate (so important in comedy and in Shakesp) that I was completely captivated!

Because it is Summer at the moment (not htat you'd know it from the weather) every town seems to have be having a variety of outdoor performances and Cambridge is no different. For July and August there are 8 different Shakespeare plays being performed in various college gardens. How can you pass up an opportunity like that? Exactly! So this week I took Anton and Mark to A Midsummer Nights Dream in the gardens of Trinity College. Bearing in mind Anton is a total Shakespeare virgin I was hoping the light touch of a comedy would maintain his interest so he would at least come to another one with me. I was on tenterhooks when the play started and it started pretty weakly! ARGH! The tension! Antons face said 'oh my god - what the...?!' - I was very worried that all was lost!

And then, right when I thought I'm going to spend the rest of my days traipsing like a lonely freak to these shows, the action kicked in and the show got really funny! The actors were really good and the director wasn't afraid to have a lot of physical comedy and it was no holds barred. If a bloke was out of line chances are his treasury would feel the sqeeze (if you know what I mean!) and ladies were being smooched or spurned at every turn! Stirling stuff.

The closer - the play within the play - was what really topped it all off though. The rude mechanicals did a superb job and by the time Puck (an attractive leggy blonde - the boys were happy) begged our forgiveness and bade us good night we were wiping tears of laughter off our cheeks and Anton was declaring he'd come to another one! SUCCESS!!

The next one we will see is Taming of the Shrew which Mark and I have both been in so we will watch it with interest! Its one of those comedies that doesn't seem so funny until you add the physical humour so it will be really interesting to see how it all goes.

I'll keep you posted!

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Combine that with reading Dan Browns Angels and Demons and you can just tell how itchy the old feet have gotten. I have definitely gotten a bit Rome-sick. Its such a beautiful city and you can gad about the central city on foot and walk from the Pantheon to St Peters Square in minutes passing the Trevi Fountain and Piazza Nouvona on the way.

If you fancy going bottom to top, you can walk from the coloseum right through the city via the Forum up to the Spanish Steps (nicer in Spring than summer)and right up the the walls of the Vatican city without feeling like you have taken on a major trek. This is always helped by frequent stops to buy Gelato and look at various souvenir shops.

One of the really lovely and unique things about Rome is the drinking fountains. The Senate declared that Rome would supply fresh drink water to all her citizens and so it is. If the fountain isn't good for dangling your tootsies in its good for filling your water bottle from so you always have a supply of cooling liquid at no extra cost. Which is important if you are going to walk all over the historical city on a hot day.

On my last trip to Rome, with Anton, we managed to cover the city several times over. Every time we walked back to our hotel which was situated behind the colosuem we directed ourselves past this fountain very near the Forum and stopped for 10 or 20 minutes to let our feet recover. Bliss is a cool fountain on a hot day!

For those people who are into the slightly different you can also travel south of the coloseum by the Metro and go to the Non-catholic cemetary which is fronted by a pyramid and is home to another population of Romes cats (much like the colloseo cats). Here you can visit Keats and Shelley in their final resting place or sculpture/american artist William Story and his amazing final sculpture which deorates his wifes grave. Its so peacefuland calm and oasis like that it is worth a stop if you are in Rome. Its like a little time out!

The Vatican city is also somewhere I think you could visit a dozen times over and not get bored! There is so much art and so many rooms to see! The Sistine Chapel alone could use up about 4 hours of your day. On both my previous visits to Rome I have seen Il Papa (John Paul II). To then walk through the city you really understand why the catholic faith has inspired so many millions of people. St Peters is also such a tremendous place you can only feel awe when you are there.

Something I noticed about Rome that I haven't really considered on any other trip to Italy is how massive the buildings are - their dimensions are just huge - but within an hour inside the city you stop noticing the enormity and your perspective adjusts or adapts so that you have to remind yourself how huge are the buildings you are in or looking at! The pantheon is a prime example. Its just so huge! It totally dominates the square it is sited in between residential buildings/restaurants. However, once you have taken it all in your eyes adjust and then this massive dome seems to be just the right size even though you may have never seen a one floor building of its magnatude before! When you get home and see a photo of yourself completely dwarfed by the Pantheons gargantuan proportions you think 'I don't remember it looking so huge'! And the whole city is like that!

Its a beautiful place. Of all the Italian cities I have seen Milan and Rome are my two favourites so far. Milan is small and has such sweet and small places to see that you can visit its major tourist highlights in one day but you could spend a lifetime shopping - from Gucci to the market square - but rome offers shopping and sights and experiences that far surpass any other place in Europe that I have been. It was the one city I never really wanted to see but Rome has totally captured me!

If you go make sure you stop and see the monastery of the cappucine monks. There are 5 chapels or alters in successive rooms that have each been entirely decorated with the bones of dead monks. Sounds creepy? Thats right! Apparently the monastery was originally outside the walls of Rome but at some point in more recent times (say - a few hundred years back) they were ordered inside the walls for their own protection. They refused to leave their brothers behind and so dug them all up and brought them with. And now you can, for a donation, visit the rooms and see how they have been decorated. I have tried to describe it to people but its not the easiest image to convey so go and see, leave them a hefty donation to help them keep on keeping on and marvel at the alters! This site comes highly recommended!

And while your in Rome, or if you stop in Italy at all make sure you spend your days eating Gelato! I have found love and love is... gelato! Simple as - this food is gods gift to man- and womankind. Life does not get any better once you have discovered gelato.

I can rave about it all day but I think you get the idea. Its better than regular tip-top or walls ice cream. It beats the pants off mr whippy and it sure as heck rates as highly as any of the other good stuff in life. You make a trip to italy totally worth it if you only go for the gelato!

Still Rome-sick. Roll on holidays!

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For those of you who know me, and have heard about Edwin, here he is - the big man himself!

Travelling Mc

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