Category Archives: travel

Milano. . . Part 2 of the Italian Trip

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Instead of heading straight back to L’Aude from Le Marche (that sounds like the title of a book or even a song) we decided to keep heading northwards so when we got to Piacenza instead of turning left for France, we hit the road for Milan. A former dance student of mine from many years ago, had sent me a message to say that she lived in a suburb of Milan with her husband and two children and that she would love to see me again if at all possible. I hadn’t met up with her for— I don’t know how many years — and I just couldn’t resist the opportunity to catch-up.

We found a lovely apartment in Monza not far from where she lived in Villasante, and booked in for two nights as we wanted to hang out in Milan city the whole of the following day. Neither The Man nor I had ever been to Milan except to the Malpensa airport or was it Linate? I can’t remember.

I made the mistake of thinking that our apartment had secure parking which it didn’t. It did have on street parking which was fairly safe but we had The Man’s bike on the back of the car and didn’t fancy leaving it there overnight. Our kind host arranged for us to leave the bike in his garage, a few streets away, and his partner came over to walk The Man around to the block of garages with his bike, and left the key with him so that he could access the bike if needed. It was kind of them and we appreciated it. The only problem was that when we came to collect the bike on the morning we left The Man managed to open the garage door only to discover no bike! Horrors! The host rushed round to find The Man in the wrong garage! Oh dear. . .

We spent a lovely evening with Tessa, her husband, Paolo, who turned out to be a magnificent cook although a dentist by profession, I’m not sure why I should think the two skills don’t go together but. . . We also met their little daughter Clara and son Lawrie (gorgeous names). We ate pasta with an aubergine sauce followed by slow cooked stuffed pork finished on the barbecue and served with a delicious fennel salad. Wonderful.

Tessa gave us some information about trains into the centre and because we’d managed to leave the bike safely hidden away, the next day, we drove to Monza station. There was a little bit of trouble working the ticket machine but fortunately the train was late so we still caught it and within 12 minutes we were walking out of the magnificent Milan Centrale Station.

Milan:

It’s flat to walk around, the centre feels quite small and there are many roads with trees and green areas. Its streets seemed clean (at least the ones we walked down) and as the second largest city in Italy it was busy but many of the avenues are quiet. We were there on a Thursday and it was Ascension day, the area around the Duomo was particularly busy. We didn’t go into the cathedral, but another time I would definitely do that. The train was busy both in and out of the Centrale Station but the trip was short so it didn’t matter. We walked about 20,000 steps that day and enjoyed a wonderful lunch in a traditional trattoria at no great cost. After lunch we walked to the Sforzesco Castle and then took the metro back to the central Station.

Monza on the platform waiting for the late train
Impressive Milan Centrale
Inside the Centrale Station
Beautiful gardens
Tree lined streets
Milan Street
Prada inside the Galleria
Galleria
Galleria in Milan
The magnificent cathedral (Il Duomo)
The Cathedral (Il Duomo)
Trattoria
Sforzesco Castle

One day in Milan was not nearly enough. I really thought it was a beautiful city and would like to return if possible. When I was searching for a website link for the Sforzesco Castle I discovered there were a multitude of palaces and castles to choose from. The Man and I simply brushed the surface of this fascinating city which has had a long and turbulent history from the Viscontis — whose emblem is a snake swallowing a baby — to the Sforzas who controlled land way down into central Italy including Le Marche where we used to live.

Easter in Paris. . .

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What a treat it was. Easter in Paris. We drove to our nearest station, Bram, and parked the car, without any trouble, in the free parking area next to the station. The train left at 11am sharp and were in Paris by 5pm. Everything went like clockwork.

The trip began on an a regional LIO train taking us to Toulouse. There was plenty of seating, an upstairs and downstairs. In Toulouse we changed to the TGV (train à grande vitesse) a superfast train, only four and a half hours to Paris Montparnasse. We had around half an hour to wait in Toulouse and took the opportunity to buy a coffee and a bun while we waited for the platform to come up. Boarding the TGV took us a little while, it was a very long train and we were in coach 17, but we found our seats on the top deck with little trouble, stored our bags and settled down for the trip. The Man was beside himself with excitement at what there was to offer. Excellent WIFI, spacious seating, a buffet car and . . . it was evident as soon as the train began to move that the train would run quietly and smoothly.

Parking the Car
Little Station at Bram
The platform Bram
Toulouse Station
On the TGV
Don’t know why it says ‘business premiere’ we were normal second class…
Packed Lunch
View from upper deck
Bordeaux – one of the stops

We really couldn’t fault the French railway system. Efficient, fast and clean. The four-and-a-half- hours just whizzed by in comfort.

However . . . (there’s always something) when we arrived at Montparnasse station it was ENORMOUS and we couldn’t find the way out. It honestly took us about 20 minutes and when we eventually emerged onto the Paris streets, Google Maps sadly let us down. I had booked a hotel only five minutes from the station but poor old google took us all over the place. I think it was at least an hour after descending from the train that we actually found the Hotel Waldorf Montparnasse Don’t get excited it wasn’t like any other Waldorf that I know of. But, it was nice little place with a pleasant lounge area and comfortable rooms. The shower in the bathroom was fantastic and the staff very friendly and helpful. We made a cup of tea (we always do) and then ventured out to find a place for dinner.

Restaurant: La Vache Au Comptoir
Hotel Lobby
Hotel Lounge
Lamb shank – beautifully cooked
Pain perdu (The Man’s Favourite)

We found the restaurant La Vache Au Comptoir just around the corner from the hotel and we struck lucky. Not only was the food extremely good the owner was friendly and genuinely interested to speak with us. His English was excellent (he’d lived in America) and he told us all about his new venture, a Créperie in Saint Germain-En-Laye on the outskirts of Paris. He’d had enough of being in the city and since covid it had been increasingly difficult making any profit. We hope to visit him when we’re travelling back to the UK sometime. Pain Perdu by the way is made in many different ways, it’s also known as French Toast. I think using Brioche is the best way of making it, then it’s eggs, sugar and milk mixed together. Dip the brioche (or bread) in the mixture and then fry in butter. Serve with vanilla or salted caramel ice-cream. Well, that’s how I would make it. It has very few calories of course 😋

The next day was Good Friday and we weren’t meeting up with our daughter and granddaughters until lunchtime. We stored the bags at the hotel and took a walk to and around the Montparnasse Cemetery. Many famous people are buried in this enormous place and it seems there is room for every religion, culture and race. It was fascinating to stroll around. I always love reading the inscriptions on the headstones I’m fascinated by names, dates, ages and information that you can discover in these places. We looked first for Samuel Beckett then Jean Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, Guy de Maupassant among others

We stopped for a while to watch a couple of stonemasons repairing some inscriptions and adding gold leaf where necessary, which was fascinating. They were happy for me to photograph them.

Montparnasse cemetery is not Pere Lachaise, where Jim Morrison is buried . . . that’s for next time.

We went to the Pompidou Centre (click to see more about it). It’s a fantastic building, the architecture style exo-skeletal. A wonderful exhibition centre which was only marred by the amount of people in the exhibition rooms. It was hot and difficult to move around. We had the grandchildren with us and whilst the ten-year-old enjoyed the fashion side of things, the seven-year-old was bored and hot, which was completely understandable. It’s not much fun if you’re at waist height to everyone else and you can’t see anything at all on the walls.

It was stunning travelling up the external escalator and the higher we went the more spectacular the views. It was well worth the effort. At the very top is a restaurant where you can sit and take in a panoramic view of the city. Sadly fully booked on this visit.

The Building
Fernand Léger
View Sacre Coeur
Charles Reeza
View of Eiffel Tower in the Distance
On the escalator

On our final day in Paris The Man and I went to visit Versailles. It was something I had always wanted to do. But, what a disappointment. We had booked tickets for 1pm and it was decided that we would not take the children with us this time so my daughter stayed back at our apartment and had a chilled day with them. This was absolutely the right decision. We travelled to Versailles on the metro which I have to say was easy and very reasonably priced. When we arrived there was still a very long queue for 12 noon entry which was a little off-putting. However we lined up with others at the 1pm sign and eventually moved in through security at around 1.45. It was extremely busy, like the worst kind of rush hour. I discovered later that Versailles has an average of 27,000 visitors A DAY!! Which is equivalent to more than 3,000 an hour. I mean, it’s unpleasant and frankly not safe at all. The rooms are quite small so you are herded through. There are lots of paintings on the wall, Louis this and Louis that and queens and kings and another Louis…you see where I’m coming from? Not many rooms are furnished so no ‘feeling’ of what it was like to live there back in the day. The Hall of Mirrors, the most famous room in the palace was all right, but not spectacular, I expected to be blown away but I wasn’t. The crystal chandeliers were . . . okay.

queueing to get into the next room
Looking up, the only way to view
model of the palace
The Hall of Mirrors
Hall of Mirrors (check out the chandeliers)
pretty miniature in the gift shop
another pretty miniature in the gift shop.
looking over the garden from the palace…not much colour at this time of year
an impressive door

We fought our way through the rest of the rooms but I couldn’t wait to get out and into the gardens. We eventually found the entrance to them after being taken through the gift shop (naturally) and discovered to our dismay that we would have to pay again to enter the gardens. When I asked the girl about this she told me they had just begun charging last Thursday. . . basically the day before the Easter holiday. Needless to say, The Man and I just made a hasty exit and head back to the centre of Paris.

NOTE: there are two stations for Versailles: Chantiers and Rive Droite. We chose Chantiers which is a longer walk to the palace, but thank goodness we did. On our return we passed the Rive Droite station and it was absolutely packed with people trying to buy tickets and get on the trains. When we got to Chantiers it was clear, except for a small queue at the ticket machine.

We averaged 15,000 steps a day, walking everywhere. My favourite walk was a was along the Seine to the Pont Neuf where we had a wonderful view of the Eiffel Tower. We went into the Samaritaine, visited a delightful tea/florist shop and we stayed on the Place des Vosges, one of the best squares in Paris; beautiful architecture surrounding a typical French cloistered park with trees, seating and grass areas.

Place de Republique
Pont Neuf -Nonna with her girls
walking around the Place des Vosges
Tea Shop
Tea shop
Bastille Monument
Place des Vosges Square
Inside the Samaritaine
Outside the Samaritaine
The Appeal Court
Me and The Man
The Eiffel Tower
The Seine

We will go back to Paris . . . there is such a lot to see in this wonderful (but very busy) city! Have you been to Paris? What are your thoughts on the place, tell me in the comments please.

Day Out in Leucate . . .

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Leucate is a small town on the mediterranean coast between Narbonne and Perpignan. Yesterday morning (Friday 22nd March) I said to The Man (while we were sipping our morning cuppa in bed), ‘Let’s go to Leucate today. The weather forecast says it will be 24 degrees and sunny. Why don’t we go out for the day?’ He didn’t take much convincing and by 10am we were on the road. We’re both now in our seventies and if you can’t do as you please when you’re our age well…what’s the point?

Leucate is about an hour and fifteen minutes drive give or take five, if you head down the motorway. It’s a pleasant drive because at this time of the year there’s not much traffic. The only downside is you have to pay the tolls which amount to about €20 in total. You could drive the long way around but we just wanted to get there.

The area is expansive and mostly flat. As far as I can make out there are three main parts to Leucate; the village, the beach and the port/marina. We went to all three plus a small fishing harbour between the beach and the port area, with around 17 fish restaurants, which are housed in shacks…that sounds awful but I can’t think of another way to describe them. When I stood on the bridge and took the photograph I was reminded of our holidays in Thailand and other areas of South Asia. We didn’t eat in any of the restaurants because we’d already had our lunch by the port.

We drove first to the beach, La Plage, where we walked along the sand and collected a few shells. We took a coffee at the La Côte Rêvée hotel which was a little pricey at €4 for a tiny cup but hey…we’re in the South of France – ON THE COAST, we accepted the cost and handed over all our change which wasn’t quite enough but he took €7 and left me with 50 cents. The thing was, we’d left our cards and money locked in the boot of our car while we walked and we couldn’t be bothered to walk back and get it — anyway, I needed the loo.

After downing the coffee we then thought we would head to the port further down the coast. It was a working port and bereft of restaurants (we were ready for lunch by then). We looked on the map and found a cluster of restaurants just a short drive away. We chose Le Bistrot des Copains, and when we arrived there it was beside the Marina so we were able to eat our excellent lunch, outside, right beside the beautiful yachts and boats. Lovely and exactly what I’d imagined when lying in bed in the morning thinking about our day out. Result!

After lunch we decided to take a look at the actual village of Leucate which was delightful. A beautiful square with shops, cafés and surrounded by small, attractive colourful houses. We noticed however, that there were few balconies, which is unusual in France I think.

We were about to head home when a friend of mine sent a message telling me about the area with all the seafood restaurants. We’d already eaten but decided to take a look anyway and we weren’t disappointed.

Enough of me waffling on. . . take a look at these photographs. . .

Scenes from La Plage . . .

Lunch by the Marina

Leucate Village. . .

The Little Fishing Harbour with its many restaurants and boats. . .

There is so much to see in the area and we were only able to take a quick look but cannot wait to go back. I can’t tell you much about the history of the area, there is a museum but it was closed yesterday. There are many salt water lagoons and inlets. There are paths for walking, cycling and of course plenty of water based activities. Probably a plethora of wildlife too, but you can’t see much in a few hours. We did our best and next time we’ll stay the night at least if not several!

We need to collect more shells for when the grandchildren come to visit . . .

Three Days in Trieste…inspirational for writers, or for anyone really…

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If you receive my newsletter (you can sign up for it HERE on this website) you will have seen that The Man and I did rather a lot of travelling in November. November is a difficult month for me, it’s the beginning of a series of family anniversaries (births, deaths etc.,) Going away was a great thing to do. We travelled down to Le Marche in Italy where we used to live but took several days to get there stopping in Belgium, France and Switzerland on the way. All the stops were really my choice so I had to allow The Man to fulfil his dream of staying in Trieste. Which we did, for three nights at the end of November. I chose the hotel, right on the front with a sea view and The Man got us a free upgrade to include a balcony.

We were incredibly lucky with the weather. Although it turned a little cold, the sun shone for most of the time we were there and we had a magnificent view of the Mediterranean sea — until it was interrupted by the arrival of an enormous cruise ship less than 100 metres from our hotel window.

Just a few photographs of the hotel in Trieste and our view with and without the cruise ship! It was a special treat for us and we very much enjoyed it.

There was so much to see that we had difficulty in choosing but as James Joyce lived here for some time during his life, it was a must to find some of his haunts. We didn’t make it to the museum but we will next time. You can read about James Joyce in Trieste here on the museum website. We walked up the Via Roma to find his statue. I of course hoped for some inspiration. The Man was walking in the steps of a writer he much admires. We visited the James Joyce Café on our first evening in Trieste but it was closing and a bit of a disappointment. We saw one of the blocks of apartments that Joyce lived in, a pretty pink one beside the water inlet in the Piazza Sant’Antonio Nuova.

We chose to visit the Banksy exhibition which was staged in the old fish market. An enormous building with high ceilings and big windows. That was impressive to begin with, never mind the art works on display. The Man said, ‘I have never given Banksy anywhere near enough credit for his satirical observation, probably because I just hadn’t seen enough of his work. It is eye opening to see so much here.’

It was a big exhibition with many familiar pieces and many I had not seen before. There was an area containing pull-down rolls of blank paper and pens for the public to do their own piece. I couldn’t resist of course. Afterwards, I wanted to tell Tosh all about it. . . So I did.

We also chose to visit the Revoltella Museum. Founded in 1872 by Baron Pasquale Revoltella (1795-1869), one of the most representative figures of Trieste society in the 19th century. who left to the city, in addition to many other bequests, his house and all the works of art, furnishings and books it contained. Apart from wandering around the beautiful house and viewing all the wonderful works of art and furniture, we attended I Macchiaioli exhibition housed in a gallery within the building. In the words of the museum website:

The term “Macchiaioli” defines the most important group of Italian artists of the 19th century.
Independent and rebellious spirits who abandon the historical and mythological scenes of neoclassicism and romanticism to open themselves to a realistic and immediate painting, without preparatory drawings, painting precisely “in stains” dense and colourful everyday life, with short brushstrokes that make the subjects much more truthful. The outlines in their paintings are blurred in an attempt to reproduce reality as it appears at a glance.

This was a movement I had never heard of. I’m not an art critic and I know very little about the history of art, unlike The Man, but even he didn’t know of it. So, a great deal to be discovered by both of us. We agreed that paintings we saw, mostly of ‘ordinary’ working people in different environments were pleasing to look at. The light and shade and the subject matter all making an impression on us. Here are just three examples:

I particularly like the young boy, painted in the 19th century but looking very much like a boy of today. The young girl reminded me of the In Summer painting I had seen in Berlin, remember? The street scene is just fabulous, the sunlight and shadow, the children playing in the street and neighbours chatting.

Here now are a three photographs of the house:

A carriage, the library and dinner for four.

As I said, we did a lot of walking. We do a lot of walking wherever we go and Trieste was no exception. One rather long and uphill stroll, took us from behind the ruins of the Roman amphitheatre to the top of the city where we found the war memorial on the hill of San Giusto. A cathedral, an old monastery and on the plateau of the hill were the remains of an old Roman forum and beside it, after climbing several steps. the memorial for those lost during the first and second world wars. There were benches dotted around and a few people sitting on the old broken down stone walls. A kind of meeting place, I thought, and it inspired me to write a short story — not finished yet —Typical I hear you say. But it will be.

A few photographs of the Roman amphitheatre ruins, our walk to the top of the city, the war memorial and surrounding area.

Finally, some photographs of the food from Trieste. We do love a good breakfast, lunch or dinner!

I enjoyed my visit to Trieste. The architecture is Mittel-Europa (so The Man says) heavily influenced by centuries of the Hapsburgs. Trieste lies in the very north east of Italy with Slovenia and Croatia on its borders. It was Austrian for many years and was the principal port of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The food has Teutonic influences (the pastries magnificent). It’s a city of great interest to literary and historical buffs and a must visit if you are either of these. We’re planning a prolonged visit next year so watch this space.

Note Number 73…Sicily…

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scopello 3

Scopello

I arrived at St Pancras from Paris, met up with The Man and we headed to Gatwick for an early flight to Palermo. We stayed at an airport hotel, the Hampton by Hilton. It was an average hotel for bed and board, and the best thing was the short walk from hotel to airport terminal, without having to go outside. We were able to check our bags in from 8pm the night before which allowed us to get up at the last minute and stroll to the departure gate in time for a 7am flight.

Sicily was hot, 30 degrees plus, but a dry heat and very pleasurable on arrival. Collecting the hire car was, – as usual, in Italy – a mission, and then driving it out of its parking space took the skill of a car-contortionist – or just a very good driver (me) with the unnecessary input of a back-seat-driver, (The Man).

We made it to our holiday rental home without mishap, only a slight disagreement with the sat nav we’d taken with us from England, so we resorted to google maps, which I have to say, took us around, for the rest of the trip, without a hitch.

I would like to take you on a tour of ancient ruins and wonderful cities, but, actually, despite good intentions to visit Agrigento, Palermo and possibly Ragusa (of Montalbano fame), we actually ended up staying within the confines of our local area, Scopello. We did manage trips to, San Vito Lo Capo, a beautiful seaside resort, with beaches and port; Trapani, a lovely old town once you find the old town; and, finally Castellmare del Golfo – our closest big town, with a port area, restaurants and shops.

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Our house was situated in Scopello, near to a nature reserve, beach and the village of itself, which although touristy, had many local visitors and offered a choice of bars and restaurants. We favoured a bar on the road from our house to Scopello, which had good coffee, great pastries and delicious arancini; a rice ball filled with cheese and ham, or ragu, or anything you like really. Going to try and make them at home sometime.

arancini-rice-balls

Arancini

The pool at the house was amazing…no other word for it…or perhaps ‘painful’ might fit.  It was ‘bio natural’ if you just walked in and swam around it was heaven,  but it had a sand base, (sandpaper more like) and although it wasn’t deep, some side areas sloped steeply into the pool and it was easy to scrape your toe on the side. (I’m still wearing the plaster). Delightfully, because I didn’t mind them, we were joined by some little frogs — shared pool took on another meaning. We bought appropriate foot wear to deal with the problem. Not sharing a photo!

The Pool, daytime, night-time and one of the dear little frogs.

Our experience of Sicily left me with mixed feelings. In the area where we were, the northwest of the island, its hills and mountains are very dry and obvious fire-burnt. Hardly any green vegetation at all, except on private land where watering night and morning was in evidence. We saw lots of little bush fires, either started deliberately or more likely by a cigarette thrown from a car. The fire engines were constantly on the go. Very close to the house there were blackened tree carcasses and singed olive trees. It must have been scary to be there when it was actually burning. We are used to Italy having lived there for several years, but Sicily was something else when it came to rubbish and drainage. The sides of the roads were littered with plastic bags, mattresses and bin bags full of goodness knows what. The collecting bins overflowing with detritus. There didn’t seem much of an effort for recycling. ‘They’re putting the glass and other recycling bins, out on the 1st October,’ we were told. Not a great deal of civic pride in evidence here.

On the first Tuesday we were there the rain came down – it was heavy when we were driving back from Trapani. The drains were unable to take the deluge, but they weren’t just overflowing they were ‘pumping’ the water out onto the roads…gallons of it. Instead of driving back down the main A187 we were driving down a river. Very scary. It appeared the drains were really only a couple of feet deep and covered with flimsy gratings. I wonder who was in charge of the original job?
For a few days, we were joined by a couple of friends from Le Marche, Italy (where we used to live), John and Tiziana – John cooked a couple of meals for us (Take note The Man!) and Tiziana was an inspiration to me – to take more exercise. I was a tad lazy in Sicily. We both walked down to our local coffee shop, and the men drove down to join us, for The Man to eat proper Sicilian Canolli – but hats off to her…Tiziana walked back up the 2k steep road, and almost beat us home! What a gal! It must be all the crisps she ate. I tried that but it didn’t work.

The Canolli
John and Tiziana
Tiziana Walking (sounds like a song title)
The Man and I in favourite coffee shop

Canolli! – John and Tiziana…Tiziana walking…The Man and I in our favourite coffee shop. 

The Local Grocers…wine 2 euro a bottle…it was good too! 

I’ll leave you with this…don’t know who won and sorry about the bad language at the very end. 

 

Despite the few niggles, Sicily is a beautiful rugged country and I would definitely go back for a second visit. Next time, instead of lying by the pool all day, taking an occasional dip and reading three books. I will honestly get out and visit the ruins and see more of the country. In the meantime, I start my MA at Exeter, tomorrow, 23rd September. I’ve attended induction day already and I am very excited!

 

 

Note Number 72…36 Hours in Paris…27 kilometres walked…

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This time last week (Thursday 5th September) I travelled to Paris on the Eurostar with my daughter Emily Rickard. She’s an Interior Stylist/Designer. For the last couple of years we’ve tried to get to MOM – Maison&Objet, a major French trade fair for interior design. At last we made it!

Neither of us had ever been on the Eurostar before and it had been over fifty years since I last visited Paris. Excited! Of course we had to start with champagne and nibbles.

euro star

Our seats weren’t the best, backward facing side by side but we soon moved to a table seat and were able to enjoy the journey with some space around us. A very smooth uneventful journey, except when I flushed the loo, the most terrible noise echoed around the whole train and I thought I’d pushed the emergency stop button by mistake. However the guard assured me it was just coincidence – the noise was something to do with going through a tunnel.

Apartment Building and our Entrance in the Courtyard

We found our Air B&B without a hitch although getting into it was a bit of a mission, the key box was hidden in a dark stairway. It was a loft apartment, on the ground floor, (aparently the description of ‘loft’ doesn’t mean it has to be in on a top floor or in the roof — news to me!). Modern and well laid out — I say that tongue in cheek as Emily had to climb a precarious ladder to her bed, as though in Nelson’s Navy and on top of that, the bathroom protruded into the living area, and had obscured glass walls except for the bottom couple of feet. Weird. If you didn’t know the person sharing your accommodation intimately at the begining of your stay, you sure did by the end. Anyway…enough let’s move on to Paris and the trade show.

Emily ‘feeling’ the floor mounted on the wall and Yes…my feet hurt too! 

It was enormous — several different halls at the Paris Nord Villepinte Exhibition Centre, with themes from furniture, household items, gifts, clothing, fancy goods, games etc., exhibitors from all over the world. I was completely out of my depth but followed my boss (I was the assistant) holding her bag and hanging back when she was networking or asking sensible questions. I didn’t go much on some of the stuff she raved about but that’s a generational thing I expect.

Some weird and some wonderful…rabbit chairs? You’re kidding…the little blue one was more my style…not at all sure about the furry bunnies though. 

I really did like these lamps though…but not quite enough room in the Dorset Cottage for any of them.

Couple of Duck/Geese lamps and weird ‘dog-leg’ table 

Getting around Paris on the metro was a challenge, but between us we managed. My foreign language skills revert to Italian when I open my mouth to speak any other language but English. We took one taxi while we were there and the rest of the time we walked. Twenty-seven kilometres to be precise— yes 27 in two days. Amazing!

We went to the department store MERCI — very interesting place. Incredibly expensive but all set out like a second hand shop and jumble sale. There was a recycling theme going on at the time.

MERCI — a glimpse of the merchandise – My arty shot of Emily inside – the recycling fiat 500 outside 

We saw a big chunk of Paris but never got as far as The Louvre or the Eiffel Tower…next time. Enjoy the photos, I thought it was the best way to show you.

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Next blog…Sicily

Note Number 68…Barcelona (or Barca as The Man calls it!)

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The poor dog has been in and out of the kennels over the last few weeks because The Man and I have been busy, busy busy. He went off cycling in the Pyrenees (I think I told you that) and I went to meet him in Barcelona. I should, of course, have posted about this before now but, life got in the way, as it does.

Barcelona. . . I loved it and cannot wait to go back. Apart from all the beautiful architecture — Gaudi — and the fantastic food — tapas. I loved our hotel which had a roof terrace with a swimming pool — well more of a plunge pool really, but it was fandabulous!

Hotel Roof Terrace and View of Cathedral

We visited Gaudi’s house, and it was much smaller than I’d imagined and internally quite understated, which is surprising considering the decorative nature of most of his work. The furniture was ergonomic and modern. What a man! The gardens were beautiful but swarming with tourists — Yes, I know we were tourists too! We took a taxi to the house, which was just as well because it was all uphill and several kilometres. But, we walked back to the Sagrada Famiglia.

Gaudi’s House
One of several Viaducts in the grounds
Some of the furniture

Click on Picture to see Caption

It was a hot, long walk and I needed a drink and something to eat. I ordered a Sangria as I thought I should try one but, I didn’t specify the size. Big mistake.

I assumed it would be a wine glass full. How wrong I was. I did my best but gave some away to the chap on the next table and left a quarter in the bottom. It cost 18euro as well!

Sangria

SANGRIA…ahh

I previously booked tickets, for the Sagrada Famiglia, which was a good idea — the place was packed with tourists, but that didn’t detract from the splendour of the building. I have visited many churches and cathedrals, and often it’s pretty much, same old, same old, but the Sagrada was a new experience. The light entering the nave through the stained glass windows was breathtaking. The shape of the roof, the sheer individuality of the architecture — unbelievable.

On one day, we took the tourist bus — what a good idea. Sitting on the top of a bus, with our earphones plugged in, able to relax and take in all the sights. By far the best way to see a city. Past La Pedrera Apartment block. World-famous, need I say more, except that apparently, it’s impossible to have bookshelves in them because of the ‘wobbly’ walls.

la pedera

La Pedrera (from the bus) 

The bus tour took a couple of hours and went out of the city to the Olympic Village from 1992. Around the Port and through the main city areas. I didn’t take many photos because I was too busy looking.

Bus Trip Views (I’ll try harder next time) 

We visited the Boqueria Market, which was impressive by size, the vast amount and the diversity of food, but we weren’t impressed with the restaurants and bars there. However, we discovered the Santa Caterina market quite close to the Cathedral. It wasn’t as big as Boqueria but on the side of it was a great tapas bar, Cuines. Can’t wait to go back!

Market Food 

More Market Food

Cuines at Santa Caterina Market 

We did visit the famous old Els Qatre Gats where Picasso, Gaudi, Hemmingway and probably many other artists, writers and musicians took their refreshment in their day. It is easy to imagine them all meeting and discussing various art fomrs, from the décor and arty atmosphere of the place. But the food? The service? Not impressed. Expensive and the meat was tough. The piano player was little better than Less Dawson and he wasn’t trying to be funny! We won’t go there again but we can tick the box.

Els Quatro Gats…sadly no photo of the piano player. 

Our favourite eating place was Alcoba Azul – we went twice. (I knew it was going to be good because my daugher recommended it and honestly she it very particular about restaurants. Thanks Emily.) A fantastic, crowded, buzzy atmosphere with locals and tourists together. Excellent service even though the place was busy. The tapas food delicious — we couldn’t decide what to eat so ordered far too much. The waitress from Italy couldn’t do enough for us…Sara. You could also eat out in the small square. It’s a tucked away place, not easy to find but worth it.

Alcoba Azul and Sara (We’ll be Back)

Next blog post — RNA Conference… watch this space.