The Rush to London

Our son, James, was flying into London for a four-day course for work and so Michael and I decided to pop over to see him for the weekend.  I will never get used to the fact that people can just go to England or just about anywhere in Europe for a weekend from Ireland.  There are so many countries close by and it is easy to decide on a whim to travel abroad, especially as no visa is required.  We caught the plane from Dublin airport, which in itself was a novelty as we hadn’t flown in 14 months and yet in that time we had visited 6 countries, all by ship or train.  I have never enjoyed flying, so when the captain announced that it was clear night and that we would be treated to a wonderful view as we flew into London, I grudgingly looked out of the window.  There before me was the glorious sight of London by night – all twinkling fairy lights with the Thames clearly visible and the London Eye shining bright red in the night.  Perfect.

We landed at Heathrow and made our way with our luggage to the exit with our passports in hand ready for examination – and just walked through!  There was no one to even glance at them or stamp them - so much for the high terror alert and heightened security measures.  We had the same experience when we have taken the boat from Dublin to Holyhead, however I really thought that things would be different at Heathrow. We caught the train from Heathrow to St Pancras International and from there it was a short walk to the Ibis at Euston where we were staying.

Michael and I were so excited to see James looking so well and happy, if a little tired, as he had spent the previous week in Saudi Arabia with his work.  We walked him to his hotel, The Hoxton, in Holborn and then breakfasted at Freestate Coffee.  James filled us in on his adventures over breakfast and then we set off to explore as much of the city as possible.

The weather was glorious – 16 degrees and sunshine.  James found it a little chilly however it was the warmest Michael and I had been for the last 5 months. Michael had mapped out a walk that would take in many of the sights of London.  The walk went something like this:

We started at Hyde Park Corner to view the Australian War Memorial then wandered through to Buckingham Palace, then off to Horse Guards Parade and through to Westminster via Downing Street, then across Westminster Bridge to the London Eye, past Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre and the Golden Hind.  We stopped for coffee at the Borough Market and then it was across London Bridge to the Leadenhall Market, past St Paul’s Cathedral through Fleet Street and then up the Strand.  We lunched at the Crypt in St Martin-in-the-Fields.  Then it was off to Trafalgar Square to see the smallest police station (for his Grandmother) and the marker for the centre of London (for his Grandfather)

Centre of London

followed by a stop at Jermyn Street so that James could purchase some business shirts.  Naturally we called into Prestat for some more of the Queen Mother’s favourite chocolates followed by a walk through of Fortnum & Mason.  This was followed by a visit to Hamleys, then Carnaby Street and finally Saville Row.  We walked 28 kilometres in all and felt that we had well and truly earned our dinner at Hawksmoor, a steak restaurant at Seven Dials.  I think James enjoyed his tour as his father and I took turns in passing on all of the useless information that we have stored, although he did comment at one point, when I was showing him the first clock in London with a double-sides face (at St Dunstan’s Church), “how do you even know all this?”  We even showed James where a man was killed by a phallus falling from a statue above Zimbabwe House. 

We met a slightly weary James on Sunday morning – a combination of jet lag, sore throat and possible exhaustion from the walk the day before.  Michael had planned a slightly easier day and we started with breakfast at the Columbia Road Flower Market so that James could hear some authentic East End accents.  We then strolled through Shoreditch to the Brick Lane market and to view the street art in the area.  This was followed by a visit to the Old Spitalfields Market.  We then took a bus to the Tower of London and walked along the forecourt there.  Lunch was at the Punch Tavern where we dined on a Sunday roast of pork belly.  James was much revived after lunch so we continued on to explore the Seven Dials and Covent Garden.  Michael decided that since we had walked nearly 24 kilometres, we had earned a drink so we found a bar, which had been recommended by one of James’ friends, Gordon’s Wine Bar which is near the Thames at Embankment.  The bar was packed and we sat outside and had a sherry tasting.  At one stage, a young lady got up and played the bagpipes.  Whilst we were at Covent Garden, James had spotted Shake Shack, and so we decided to have dinner there.  James of course had dined at the one in New York and now he can say that he has been to the London one as well.  We took James for a walk around Leicester Square so that he could see the theatre district by night and also walked him through Chinatown. 

It was very sad to say goodbye to James and I hope that he enjoyed his time with us.  At least he experienced a comprehensive overview of London and I hope that he will return one day.

Michael and I spent our final morning strolling around Fitzrovia and all too soon it was time to catch the train to Heathrow.  Michael and I both managed to set off the alarms at security at the airport and so dutifully removed our shoes so that they could be x-rayed.  Then we both had to be patted down and searched and then stand with one leg propped on a chair (like a bride having her garter removed) whilst the magic wand was waved around us, all in view of the queue of passengers.  Seriously, do we look like middle-aged terrorists?  An uneventful flight took us to Dublin where we actually had to pass through customs and had our passports stamped with the incorrect date.  Welcome to Dublin!

The Dublin Rambler

Once again it was time to say goodbye to wonderful London to retrace our journey back to Ireland.  It was fitting that snow was falling lightly as we made our way to the station.  We caught the boat train from Euston and it was a relaxing journey through the countryside, which was covered in snow in places.  Then it was onto the ferry from Holyhead where the captain greeted us with the news that gales were expected so we were in for a rough crossing.  In actual fact, there were only a couple of hair-raising moments as the waves crashed over the bow and then it was a relatively smooth journey.  A short taxi ride from the Dublin dock took us to our apartment at Spencer Dock.  It is a lovely modern, two-bedroom apartment right by the Grand Canal and well away from party central at Temple Bar.  I think we shall be very comfortable here.

It is lovely being back in Dublin and there is a real feeling of “coming home”.  I will always love London with its myriad of places to see but Dublin is a chance to settle back into a more relaxed way of life.  The weather is still quite cold and when the wind blows it fairly slices through you but there is something invigorating about wandering the streets that are so familiar and yet discovering something that you hadn’t noticed before.  It is a very pretty city filled with music and we feel lucky to be here.

One of the nice things about being back is visiting our favourite café, Tamarama, for breakfast on a Saturday.  It is good to hear a few Australian accents served with the Vegemite. Speaking of accents, Michael has been asked several times where he is from, and when he says Australia, people are commenting that he doesn’t have a strong accent!  He sounds the same to me but perhaps he is starting to lose the hard edge. 

We have managed to catch a couple of exhibitions in Dublin commemorating the First World War.  The first one was Pals: The Irish at Gallipoli at the National Museum of Ireland.  The museum is in the old Collins army barracks so it was a fitting setting for this interesting exhibition of rare photographs.  It was also a good reminder that the Gallipoli campaign was not just about the Australians and New Zealanders, a fact which sometimes gets overlooked when we just focus on our involvement and losses during the war.  The second exhibition was WW1 Ireland: Exploring the Irish Experience.  This was an even better exhibition showing the Irish war experience through letters, diaries, recruiting posters, newspaper reports and cartoons and the impact that the war had on the Irish people.

‘Tis of Limerick We Sing

There was a young man of Nepal

Who went to a fancy dress ball

He thought he would risk it

And go as a biscuit

But a dog ate him up in the hall

I couldn’t resist – this was another limerick I remember from my childhood (still can’t remember what I did yesterday.)

Michael had some work to do up in Shannon, so we thought that we would spend the weekend up in Limerick, as we never actually got to explore the town when we were last there.

We hired a car and set off for a very pleasant drive through the Irish countryside stopping along the way for a coffee and to explore the ruins of an ancient Abbey.  There are many ruins dotting the countryside – old churches, homes and the occasional castle. There is always something to look at.

Michael organised for us to participate in the Angela’s Ashes walking tour.  I have mentioned before that we have both recently read the book and the tour promised to retrace some of the streets and places of interest mentioned in the book.  We met our tour guide, Declan, and discovered that we were the only two that would be taking the tour that day.  We had a lovely 2 hour walk with Declan not only showing us places relevant to the book but also pointing out the beautiful Georgian homes whilst relating the history of the area.  It was a terrific way to see the city as he pointed out many features that we would not have discovered on our own.  One of the highlights was the Mount Saint Alphonsus Redemptorist church.  The church was built in 1854 and has the most stunningly beautiful mosaics that I have seen.  In fact, I would rate it as highly as some of the amazing churches we saw in Russia and throughout Europe.  You could just imagine the young Frank McCourt, bedraggled and freezing sitting in the pews, trying to get warm and shelter from the rain, gazing on the extravagant gilt mosaics.   It seems almost unbelievable that there could be such ostentatious wealth amidst such crippling poverty.

 




King John’s Castle was the next on our list of places to visit.  This imposing castle was built over 800 years ago and houses fascinating interactive exhibits detailing early Gaelic society, the Normans, the Reformation and the various sieges that befell the castle and Limerick.  We had a lovely time wandering around the various rooms and we had the entire castle to ourselves as there was not a single other visitor.  I even climbed to the very top to see the spectacular view over Limerick and the surrounding countryside.

We also visited the Hunt Museum and the Limerick City Gallery of Art.  The Hunt Museum is housed in the old Custom House, a beautiful building dating back to 1769.  There are over 2,000 original works of art dating from the Stone Age through to the 20^th century.  One of the more interesting items is the Leonardo Horse, a bronze statue of a horse which was once thought to have been made by Leonardo da Vinci but was subsequently found to have been made at a much later date.  The horse itself is still a beautiful piece regardless of its antiquity.  There were also sketches by Henry Moore and one by Picasso.  The art gallery was a little too modern for my taste however there were some very good German theatre posters on display.

On the Monday, when Michael had to work, I took myself off to the Frank McCourt Museum.  If you have read the book, you will remember that the constant rain is a backdrop to the story.  Well, I certainly had the right atmosphere for my visit, as during my walk there I was first drenched with rain then smacked by hail followed by being snowed on and then finally blown around by ferocious winds.  Unbelievably the sun then came out, albeit for a short time before the exact same weather pattern repeated itself! The museum itself is housed in Frank’s former school – Leamy House.  Once again I was the only one there so was treated to a guided tour by one of the museum guides, a lovely, elderly gentleman who regaled me with stories about Frank’s childhood.  Two rooms are set up to recreate one of the houses that Frank lived in and was a sobering experience to look at the meagre possessions and the harsh reality of living in such squalor.  The main part of the museum is set up in the old school classroom and there were display cases filled with old photographs, school books and other memorabilia. There was a photo of Frank meeting President Clinton, which was remarkable, considering Frank’s humble beginnings.  It was a great way to spend a few hours and has inspired me to read the sequel to Angela’s Ashes, ‘Tis, which picks up the story from Frank’s arrival in New York.

To Cut a Long Story Short

We returned to Dublin in time for an event that I have been looking forward to for a number of weeks.  On Valentine’s Day, Michael surprised me with tickets to see Spandau Ballet, my all time favourite band of the ‘80’s!  In fact, Michael and I went to one of their concerts in Sydney 30 years ago so it was going to be a real blast from the past.  We arrived early and joined the queue waiting to gain entrance and had a bit of a giggle looking at the other people in the crowd.  To say there was more than a smattering of grey hair was an understatement!  Michael and I checked out the memorabilia on sale and noticed the skinny t-shirts for sale.  Looking at all the paunches on the men and the middle-aged spread on the women we couldn’t help wondering who they were being marketed to.  Anyway, we found our seats and discovered that we were in the very back row.  I was sitting there, kicking myself for forgetting the binoculars, when the usher approached us and asked if we would like to move to better seats.  Of course, we said yes, and he led us down to the premium seating area only 15 rows from the front and directly in front of the stage.  I was over the moon!  The usher then returned and gave us VIP passes to allow us access to the VIP bar upstairs!  There we sat, VIP lanyards around our necks feeling very important indeed.  The concert was wonderful and the years just melted away as the crowd roared when they played all their hits from the past.  It was a fabulous night, which we finished with a drink in the very swish VIP bar.  In fact, I would say that the night was just Gold!

 

Dear Old London

Michael and I made the trek from our apartment to Gare du Nord to catch the Eurostar to London.  We left ridiculously early as we wanted to make sure that we did not have a repeat performance of our journey to Belgium and we were certain that there would be increased security measures in place at the station.  We passed two protest marches on our way however we did not hang around to see what they were about.  We arrived to find the station very quiet with no extra police and we passed through customs and security in record time.  Michael didn’t even get the usual grilling from British customs.  He had given the largest of the knives to Tim so we passed through security without a hitch.

The train journey was comfortable and uneventful.  We were lucky as the following day all Eurostar trains were stopped for several hours due to a fire in the tunnel.  We arrived at St Pancras International where we immediately noticed the armed police patrolling the station.  I will never get used to seeing armed police in London – it seems so un-British.

We stayed a few nights in Fulham Broadway before moving to a fabulous apartment at Barons Court.  The apartment was very swish with nice furnishings and top of the range appliances.  We even had access to a gated private garden (I have always wanted to see inside one of those).  The area seemed to be a French enclave with many French people around.  The good news was that the local cemetery teemed with squirrels so it didn’t take long before I was up there with my bag of peanuts.  It was interesting to note that I wasn’t the only mad squirrel lady as others also took time out to feed and watch the squirrels play.  In fact, they were the plumpest squirrels I had ever seen!

Michael and I headed over to Somerset House to view a photographic exhibition Wounded The Legacy of War.  The photographer was the Canadian singer Bryan Adams and the portraits were very powerful, showing British servicemen and women who have suffered life-changing injuries in Iraq and Afghanistan.  It was a sombre and thought provoking exhibition, which portrayed the courage and determination of the injured men and women.

I took myself off to visit Hogarth’s House in Chiswick.  The house was built around 1700 and Hogarth purchased it to be the family’s country house and as an escape from the noise of London (his London home was where the Odeon now stands in Leicester Square).  This struck me as ironic as the A4 roars along side of the house – all 6 lanes of it!  The noise was most distracting as the traffic could be heard in every room of the house.  Nevertheless, the exhibits were very interesting and I was glad I went.

When Tim visited us, he commented that I was full of useless information about London (which he nevertheless imparted to Jess when she arrived).  I came across another gem when I read the book Bizarre London, which I just had to check out myself.  At the southern end of London Bridge there is an enormous white spike that hardly any one notices or knows what it symbolises.  Well, I do now.  It commemorates the tradition of displaying the severed heads of traitors on the original London Bridge.  Things you learn!

 

I visited the National Portrait Gallery to see Hogarth’s self-portrait however I was disappointed to discover that it is currently not on display.  I wandered around the gallery and saw some very good works including an exhibition on the life and works of Lord Snowdon.  I also saw a sculpture created with 10 pints of frozen blood.  Now that is something you don’t see every day (and I wouldn’t particularly want to).

The next stop was the Tate Britain as I wanted to see a particular Hogarth painting that I had seen mentioned at Hogarth’s House.  I couldn’t believe my luck when I arrived to discover that the gallery was holding a special exhibition of Hogarth’s works.  I had a lovely time wandering the exhibition and the rest of the gallery.  If fact, it was so good that I took Michael back a few days later so he could see the gallery for himself.  Michael enjoyed the Henry Moore section, which had a number of sculptures on display as well as some of his drawings.

Tim and Jess gave Michael the book The Churchill Factor by Boris Johnson for Christmas and both of us thoroughly enjoyed reading it.  To mark the 50^th anniversary of Churchill’s death an exhibition titled Churchill’s Scientists opened at the Science Museum, so we went along to have a look.  The exhibition was very interesting, particularly as it illustrated some of the points made in Boris’ book.  Churchill’s fascination with science led to the scientific achievements that helped Britain win the Second World War.  We then wandered the rest of the museum and both commented how much Michael’s dad would have enjoyed the different exhibits.  I don’t possess a scientific bone in my body however even I found the exhibits fascinating (even if I didn’t fully understand them all).

 

Descriptive Jottings Of London

Bruges Goose (really?)

Tim’s girlfriend Jess finally arrived, very weary, having experienced her own set of adventures.  Dinner had been booked at The Rose, a gastro pub, which had been given rave reviews.  Unfortunately, it was pretty clear upon our arrival that a number of various Christmas functions were taking place and the noise was increasing with every round of shots that were taken.  We decided to give up and return home with takeaway kebabs for dinner.  Welcome to London, Jess!

The next morning Michael and I headed to Orpington, leaving Tim and Jess to their own devices.  Margaret had kindly agreed to store some of Michael’s work gear so that we didn’t have to carry it with us for the next leg of our journey.  Margaret’s daughters and families were there to celebrate Peter’s birthday and we had a lovely cup of tea with them.  On our way back through the Orpington shopping strip we were lucky enough to see the Christmas parade riding through.  There were two Santa Clauses riding in pony traps with an assortment of elves escorting them.  It was all rather fun.

 

 

Michael and I took the chance to take in the Columbia Road flower market on the Sunday morning.  It is always good there and I was able to see real mistletoe for the first time.  I had only ever seen the plastic mistletoe that Michael’s mother decorates her hall with every Christmas.  We met Tim and Jess at Spitalfields Market and had a good pub lunch.  Then it was off to Brick Lane to show them the markets there. 

 

We checked out of our apartment in Fulham Broadway and moved to the Ibis near Euston Station.  Michael and I took a walk around Spa Fields, a lovely little area that Tim and I had stumbled upon the previous week.  There is a very nice food market held daily and we enjoyed lunch al fresco.   

 

Later, we met Tim and Jess at the Euston Tap House, a bar that specialises in boutique beer, which Michael has been dying to try.  They then went out for dinner with friends leaving Michael and I to dine alone.  We found a really nice family run Italian restaurant and had a great meal, all the while being entertained by a group of young ladies at the next table who talked loudly in Ali G accents. 

 

23 Minutes In Brussels

 

We met bright and early in the hotel lobby.  The idea was a leisurely walk to St Pancras International where we would have breakfast before boarding the Eurostar for Brussels.  We arrived at the station and had our breakfast before Michael went to check out where we needed to go to pass through customs.  He arrived back and told us that the queue was very large and that they were already prioritising our train’s passengers.  Poor Jess didn’t even have time to gulp down her tea.  Off we dash to the line and make our way through customs into the bag x-raying area.  Three of us go through without a hitch before Michael is pulled aside and told that his bag needs to be searched.  By this time, the final boarding calls are being made, so I sent Tim and Jess ahead to board while I waited for Michael.  Michael, in his wisdom, had decided to go all Crocodile Dundee and pack three knives (after losing our picnic knife in London last trip) and these of course had showed up on the x-ray machine.  In all fairness, he had been carrying these knives since leaving Dublin and this was the first time that they had been a problem.  Now of course, once they had found the knives, they then kept looking and found all the spare batteries that Michael was carrying, which, if you didn’t know Michael, would look suspicious as why does anyone need to carry their body weight in spare batteries?  Michael, meanwhile, is telling them to keep the knives and batteries, just let him get on the train.  I am sure that this just made the search go slower.  All the time the announcements are getting more urgent and by now I am thinking do I wait for him or do I get on the train?  Finally, they let him keep the knives and batteries and he has to repack his bag at the speed of light.  He joins me just as they announce that the train is about to depart.  We literally fly up the ramp and on to the train, just making it before the doors close.  I don’t think my heart stopped hammering for the first 10 minutes of the ride.

 

We arrived in Brussels and then had the fun of trying to find our hotel.  We dragged our bags up and down the city before deciding that a taxi might be a good idea.  It was just as well, as we had been trudging in totally the wrong direction.  We dropped our bags off at the Ibis and then headed out to find the Old Town.  There were a number of Christmas markets taking place and we stopped along the way so that Tim and Jess could try some frites.  Michael and I headed off on an art nouveau walk, which took in some wonderful sights especially The Metropolitan Hotel.  I have now added this to my mental list of all the wonderful places that we will stay when our Lotto numbers come up.

Pismanis dressed for Christmas

In the evening we watched a light show set to music on the local church.  The colours were beautiful.

 

The following day, Michael and I had breakfast at the wonderful art nouveau café Le Cirio.  The surroundings were beautiful and I had my first Belgian waffle, which was smothered in cream at least 3 inches high.  To make the morning perfect, a greyhound was standing at the table next to ours while his owners ate.  I love the way Europeans are generally welcoming towards animals.  We did laugh when we saw that the café cat didn’t emerge until the greyhound had left!

 

We spent the day wandering the shops and had the most decadent afternoon tea at Neuhaus.  This consisted of a pot of hot chocolate, (basically melted chocolate with cream), 2 chocolate cakes and assorted chocolates and biscuits.  We could only manage the drink and cakes so they kindly gave us a doggy bag for the rest.  It was unbelievably good.

 

The one thing that I thought was slightly disappointing was that there was no Christmas market in the Grand Place and the only decorations were a Christmas tree that had been donated by Riga and a full sized nativity scene complete with live animals.  It wasn’t until we were walking through the area one evening that we stumbled on the most amazing light show.  Every building in the Grand Place was lit with the most beautiful array of colours and all set to fabulous classical music.  The show went for 10 minutes and held the spectators spellbound.  It was without doubt, one of the most spectacular things I have witnessed.  It brought the buildings alive.

 

The Belfry of Bruges

Merry Christmas one and all – our third away from home!  Up early with time for a quick Skype session with everyone back in Australia.  Then it was off for a short train trip to the beautiful city of Bruges.  We arrived and circumnavigated the city with our bags in tow before finally finding our hotel.  I think Tim and Jess are getting the hang of dragging their bags along cobblestones now.  We found a café for breakfast and then it was off to explore the city.

Chocolate Nativity Scene (is there any better)

The Christmas market was open and Michael and I had a lovely time trying gluhwein and hot dough balls dusted with icing sugar.  We also tried hot Chouffe Coffee Liquor – yum!  It was a great day, made even better by the fact that there were no large crowds so it was very relaxing walking around the city.  Unfortunately we didn’t get to see Fidel, the most famous dog of Bruges, as he was wisely keeping indoors out of the cold.

 

We had a lovely dinner in an underground cellar restaurant although I think that we had a little too much to drink.  Well, it was Christmas.

On Boxing Day, Michael and I attended the exhibition The War in Pictures/Bruges at War at the Stadshallen.  It was a very good exhibition highlighting the occupation of Bruges by the German navy in World War 1 and the damage the city suffered. 

We also visited the Basilica of the Holy Blood, which we had somehow managed to miss on our last visit.  It is a beautiful church, which houses the venerated relic of Christ, his blood, which was collected by Joseph of Arimathea.  The relic was on display, guarded by a priest, and people were invited to approach and offer a prayer.  It was moving to watch the procession of people, both young and old, offering their prayers.

We kept the day nice and relaxed as Tim had booked a very special restaurant for our belated Christmas dinner and we were all looking forward to it.  The restaurant, Den Gouden Harynck (The Golden Herring) had rave reviews and so we used it as an excuse to get out of our walking boots and actually dress up for a meal.  We decided on a four-course meal and selected an appropriate wine to accompany it.  Michael, who hadn’t been feeling well during the day, only lasted for the first two courses before he took ill and had to leave.  Tim, who also hadn’t been feeling well, went steadily down hill as the meal went on.  Only Jess and I valiantly forged ahead, Jess finishing off Michael’s venison and me finishing off Michael’s dessert (chocolate orange – my absolute favourite!).  To make matters worse, as we were trying to make a hasty exit before Tim face planted on the table, the owners of the restaurant decided to be super friendly and tell us all about the history of the restaurant as they were tickled pink that our surname was Herring.  Poor Tim – I didn’t think that he would make it back to the hotel without passing out.  It was such a shame that both men took ill on the one night that we had something special arranged.

Berliner Star

Guess who found some snow

Another early morning wake up call, as we needed to catch the train from Bruges to Brussels to connect with the train that would take us to Cologne.  Michael was much better however still not 100% whilst poor Tim was worse than ever.  The first two train journeys were uneventful and we arrived in time at Cologne to make our connection to Berlin.  We waited on the train platform in the designated area for our carriage and when the train arrived there was the usual surge forward to board the train.  Michael made it on board with his bag and mine and I was just about to board when the train door shut.  Tim, Jess and I were left stranded on the platform with at least a dozen other passengers and no amount of pushing the automatic door button would make the door open.  People were yelling, trying to attract the guard’s attention, as the train was due to leave at any moment.  When it became apparent that the door was not going to open, we all galloped to the next carriage to try and board there.  To our absolute horror that carriage door started to close as well.  Luckily a man holding a baby in his arms wedged himself in the doorway like Hercules keeping it open just enough for people to scramble through.  Thereafter followed the ludicrous sight of two carriages worth of people trying to board through one entrance before the train departed.  I managed to board, closely followed by Jess and Tim just before the train took off.  We then had to negotiate our way through 2 train carriages crammed with people in the aisles.  It was absolute mayhem.  I finally found my seat next to Michael after about 20 minutes of pushing my way through the crowd.  Michael’s only comment, as he looked up from his book, was that he was starting to get worried about his lunch (I was carrying the sandwiches). Tim and Jess finally clawed their way to their seats some 15 minutes after me.  Poor Jess had actually had a girl climb completely over the top of her.  Luckily we had reserved seating, as the aisles were crammed with people.  It was so disappointing as our previous travels on German trains had been wonderful.  Tim was looking sicker by the minute.

Alexanderplatz

We arrived at Berlin after a six-hour journey from Cologne.  We had seen snow all through the countryside and we were surprised that there had been a light fall of snow in Berlin and some remained on the ground.  We took a taxi to our apartment, as by this stage all we wanted to do was get Tim inside to rest.  We were on the 5^th floor with no lift.  Yes, 104 steps up with our luggage.  I don’t know who looked more dismayed – Tim looking like death warmed up or poor Jess.  Our host, who must have been in his late 60’s took pity on Jess and helped her carry her bag (whilst telling her that he had just had an operation) and then returned to help me.  By the time we reached the top of the stairs I was seriously questioning why we had booked this apartment.  Luckily for us, what we found was easily the nicest place we have stayed anywhere.  A very large, two bedroom, two bathroom, two balconies, large study, large lounge and large fully equipped kitchen – an absolute delight. 

 

We all slept in after our previous day’s adventures and Michael woke feeling himself again.  Tim was much better but still not 100%.  We took a walk into the city along the banks of the River Spree to see the Reichstag.  Tim wanted to see the Brandenburg Gate however when we arrived, we were unable to walk through as they were setting up the big stage ready for the New Year’s Eve concert.  We walked along Unter den Linden and I was pleased to see that a lot of the work that was being done for the new train line has been completed although there is still more to finish off.  There was an enormous Christmas market at Alexanderplatz, which was probably the best we had seen on this trip so far.  We finished with a trip to Checkpoint Charlie so that Tim and Jess could have a look at one of the museums there.

Check Point Charlie

The next day we awoke to a winter wonderland.  Heavy snow had fallen overnight and our balconies were completely blanketed in white.  Tim and Jess were thrilled to see snow and even I was excited.  That excitement lasted approximately two hours until I slipped on the ice and fell heavily on my back, hitting my head and then I remembered why I had been so glad to leave the Canadian winters behind me!

 

Michael and I headed over to the East Side Gallery and were disappointed to see that many of the pieces are now being covered by graffiti.  I don’t mind if the graffiti is artistic and interesting but the pointless tagging just vandalises some very good works.  The iconic Trabant crashing through the wall is still pretty much intact along with Brezhnev kissing Honecker.      

 

We revisited the Holocaust memorial and I was horrified to see people climbing the steles to take selfies.  Up until now I had thought that the worst selfie I had seen taken was by someone climbing on the altar of St Paul’s Cathedral in London however this just took the biscuit.  I guess some people just don’t have any common sense or respect.

The Museum Island was somewhere Michael and I missed on our last visit so we decided to make up for that.  Firstly we visited the Pergamon Museum, as I wanted to see the replica Ishtar Gate.  It was every bit as fabulous as I had hoped it would be – breathtaking in scale and such beautiful colours.  There were also many other beautiful Islamic artworks on display.

 

The Neues Museum was next on the list to see the famous Nefertiti Bust.  I was surprised at just how mesmerising this limestone bust was.  It was simply stunning and a very beautiful piece of work.

The Altes Museum was full of German artwork with some lovely sculptures.  Both the Neues and the Altes Museums have been beautifully restored, having been badly damaged during WW2. 

 

We also visited the Palace of Tears which was the former border crossing station at the Berlin Friedrichstrasse railway station, where East Germans said goodbye to their families and visitors going back to West Germany.  There were heartbreaking displays depicting what it was like living in the divided city. 

On New Year’s Eve, Michael and I took a walk around the city and visited the Silent Heroes Museum.  This museum is dedicated to the Germans who helped persecuted Jews stay alive under the Nazi’s.  These were people who hid, fed or helped Jews escape often at considerable danger to themselves.  Many remarkable stories were detailed and one left marvelling at the courage of some people.

 

Boxes of empty fireworks

Fireworks are not banned in Germany, so as the day progressed we saw more and more groups of children and adults lighting firecrackers, especially bangers.  There was a steady cacophony from about 4.00pm onwards reaching a crescendo from 11.00pm through to 2.00am.  Unbelievable.  I couldn’t help wondering how many people were injured during that time.  We viewed the midnight fireworks displays from our balcony and noise was deafening.  Tim and Jess took the opportunity to see some Berlin nightlife, heading out at 2.00am to go clubbing and they had tickets to see a DJ at 6.00am!  Oh, to be young again!

 

New Year’s Day was quiet with not much open and Tim and Jess sleeping the sleep of the dead.  Michael and I found one gallery that was open – the Gemaldegalerie, so we spent the afternoon wandering around paintings ranging from the 13th to 18th centuries.  There was a particularly interesting copy of the Hieronymus Bosch triptych The Last Judgement.  We had seen the original on our trip to Vienna, however this gallery has a copy attributed to Lucas Cranach the Elder.

 

A La Parisienne

 

It was with trepidation that we waited on the platform for our train to Mannheim, as the memory of our trip from Cologne to Berlin was fresh in our minds.  The train arrived and we everyone boarded our carriage in an orderly manner.  It was when we were seated that we realised that Michael had inadvertently booked first class tickets for us so we had a very comfortable journey with no one camped in the aisles.  We changed at Mannheim for our connection to Paris and this leg of the journey was even more comfortable with food and drinks being served.  It is definitely the way to travel.

We arrived at Gare de Paris-Est and walked along the cobbled streets to find our apartment in Republique.   We were on the 4^th floor – no lift.  Yes, 77 steps up with our luggage.  I have now imposed a 3 floor limit on our apartment stays.  I keep telling Michael that this old, grey mare just ain’t what she used to be!  Luckily, once again our apartment was very nice.  This time it was a two bedroom, split level apartment.  The only negative was that Tim and Jess’ s bedroom was accessed by a very steep staircase, which was more like a ladder, so they had to be extremely cautious going up and down.

The following day we all set off to explore some of the main sights of Paris.  We did lots of walking starting with the Marais and the Hotel de Ville.  Then it was off to Notre Dame Cathedral walking along the Seine to the Louvre.  We finished with a stroll along the Champs-Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe.  I am not sure that Tim and Jess really wanted to do all that walking however at least they got a good overview of the city.

 

Sunday was once again the free museum day.  We always seem to time our visit to coincide with this.  We took Tim and Jess to see the Musee d’Orsay and they enjoyed wandering around looking at the artworks and I was able to show them my favourite sculpture of the White Bear.  We then took them to the Eiffel Tower where we set them free to roam the city on their own.

Michael and I finally made it to Montmartre to see the Sacre Coeur Basilica.  We had only viewed it from a distance on previous visits however, this time we took the funicular to the top and walked through the church.  The church is quite beautiful however the most spectacular thing is the view from the hill.  Even though it was a misty day you could quite clearly see the panorama of Paris spread before you. 

 

We stopped at a café on the way down the hill and Michael ordered two coffees.  The waitress had a hard time understanding him, which surprised me, as most of the French seem able to understand his gestures at least, if not his pronunciation.  It then dawned on us both that we were in a café staffed by the hearing impaired.  The poor waitress had been trying to lip read Michael’s appalling French.  Needless to say, we ended up with something completely different to what we ordered, however, it was very peaceful there!

One evening, we decided to dine at little restaurant in our street.  The four of us arrived and were greeted by the owner who spoke very little English.  This didn’t worry us as Michael always carries his trusty French dictionary with him.  The owner did his best to explain the menu, expressively pantomiming each dish and between his explanations and the dictionary we were able to place our orders.  Three of us ordered the curried pork dish and we settled back with our wine to await the arrival of our dinner.  The owner came out of the kitchen and in rapid fire French started to animatedly tell us something.  Between the four of us, each picking up the odd word, we managed to work out that the pork was not possible but that was as far as we could understand.  The owner, seeing our incomprehension, turned to a gentleman at the next table and obviously asked him to translate for us.  The gentleman looked at us and said “ze pork ‘as exploded in ze kitchen.  Now you will ‘ave veal”.  Veal we did indeed have, and it was very nice.  The meal was so good that Michael and I vowed to return again if we could.

 

The following evening, Tim wanted to try a restaurant called Chez Janou that had been recommended to him by a friend.  We had a wonderful meal and the restaurant was packed to the rafters.  The best part however was the dessert.  We ordered a chocolate mousse and the waiter brought out a mixing bowl of mousse the size of a motorcycle helmet and a bowl.  You are then allowed to serve yourself as much you like.  Three helpings later and we were all feeling totally full. Luckily we had 4 flights of stairs to climb to burn off some of the calories.

Je suis Charlie

Michael and I undertook a walking tour of the various passages in Paris.  We wandered many of these historic arcades, some in disrepair whilst others have been fully restored.  Most of them are architecturally beautiful and full of interesting shops, galleries, boutiques and cafes.  Whilst we were wandering around we became aware of sirens.  At first, just a few police cars followed by more and more until it became obvious that something had happened.  Michael and I kept on with our walk whilst musing on what might have occurred.  When we walked home that evening, we walked past the Statue of Republic on the Place de la Republique and could see people gathered there.  Michael commented that it must be a protest (we had seen several on our previous trips to Paris) and so we just continued home.   

 

We were absolutely horrified to read in the news about the attack on Charlie Hebdo.  It seems that we were actually not far from where the attack to place.  The gathering of people we had seen was the start of the vigil that 10,000 people attended.  Our main worry was that Tim and Jess had gone out for the day and then onto dinner and it was an anxious wait until they finally arrived home, totally oblivious as to what had happened.

 

 

tributes to slain Charlie Hebdo victims

Republique comments around the statute

We had a farewell lunch for Tim and Jess at Chez Janou.  The meal was once again fantastic although we refrained from ordering the mousse this time.  It is possible to have too much of a good thing. 

It was sad to put them in the taxi that would take them to Gare du Nord where they would catch the train to Charles de Gaulle airport, however I couldn’t help feeling a little relieved that they were leaving Paris.  The gunmen that attacked Charlie Hebdo were still at large and suddenly the city just didn’t feel as safe as it did before.  I hope that they enjoyed their time with us.  We certainly enjoyed having their company.

 

Michael and I were enjoying our final walk around Paris when about 6 police vans hurtled past with sirens blaring.  This was followed by wave after wave of police vans, police cars and motorcycles until the air reverberated with a cacophony of noise.  In all, at least 60 vehicles passed us and I saw one police driver wearing a black ski mask – very scary looking.  By now, we had come to the conclusion that they had found the Charlie Hebdo attackers and were on their way to confront them.  All I wanted to do was get off the streets so we headed back to our apartment.  We were dismayed to discover on the news that there was a siege taking placing 3 kms from where we were staying and that was where the police we had seen were rushing. 

 

Michael and I returned to the restaurant of the exploding pork and had the restaurant totally to ourselves for most of the evening.  The streets were very quiet and I think that a lot of people just didn’t want to be out and about given the events of the past 3 days.  Nevertheless, we had an excellent meal and the owner was delighted to see us again and performed his pantomime explanations with vigour.