Spot the Difference:

Parisan Breafast - coffee, orange juice and croissants

Italian Breakfast - .... coffee, orange juice and croissants

Tips for the Future...

Having now spent the grand sum of 5 weeks overseas I take it upon myself to deliver some wisdom to you, fellow travellers:
1. Get some sleep on your last night before your flight. No one likes a hysterical Tom.
2. Carry the correct change for the train ticket to Rome airport rather than insert a 20Euro note for a 5.50 fare and gain a credit note as change. Carrying exactly 5.45 is also not useful.
3. Don't get a migraine during a 6 hour stopover in a country where codeine is illegal.

So our last few hours were a bit hair raising, but not disastrous. We packed the night before to leave as little as possible early in the morning. For some reason Tom had managed to get about 4 hours sleep and was not really in the mood for negotiating international travel. So when we finally arrived at sleepy Tuscolana station and found only ticket machines and no people, it dawned on us that the large Euro notes were not going to be very useful. Tom raged at a few of the machines as some would only take credit cards (but refused ours) and others would only take small notes, as we discovered when inserting a 20 Euro note and received 1 ticket and a printed credit note (which needless to say the machine will not take as cash. It also would not let us purchase 2 tickets at once, so we went through all our change and it looked like we'd be okay... or not. 5.45 inserted later we were both getting a bit hysterical. We pleaded with some fellow travellers and eventually a man gave us 10 cents to complete our fare and get the ticket.

The graffiti ridden train arrived in the dark and we piled in with our bags plus one hard suitcase that had the breakable souvenirs in it. The platform for the airport has zero signage to indicate you have arrived, but at least it is the end of the line so you can't get off too late.

Check in was a simple process - I'm becoming really impressed with Qatar Airways. We found some traditional Italian breakfast and then wandered through security and to the gate for our plane.

6 hours in a plane is manageable. I am all for 6 hour plane flights. I am not in favour of long stop overs. I am also not in favour of migraines, during long stopovers. I don't know why I got a migraine. I don't know why codeine is illegal both to purchase and possess in Qatar. Qatar transfer lounge is tiny, with about 15 gates, a house sized duty free lounge and about 4 take away food shops. We needed US$ or Qatar Riyal to buy food, which I ate and re-experienced later on. I did at least have white tiger balm but in an incapacitative state it's difficult to apply under your shoulder blades, and excessive physical affection also leads you into trouble in Qatar, so Tom wasn't really able to help or express comfort. So I coated my neck and skull in tiger balm (stinking out the quiet room in the process) and just tried to deal with the pain and the sickness. I must have looked like death because I got some crazy looks in my deck chair and to and from the toilets.
The Quiet Room is a great concept in an airport. Semi reclining chairs in a dark quiet space. Pity the space is often filled with talkers, mobile phones ringing and sleeping people who snore like chainsaws. It was better than the rest of the airport however, and I was able to get up and move around. In duty free we did find some painkillers: Paracetamol + Caffeine. Okay. If you say so. Bizarrely because we'd bought them in duty free the cashier had to seal the bag which I guess stays sealed for the whole plane journey. He asked me if I was going to take them straightaway. I just looked at him with my grey face, watery eyes and stooped, weak posture. He broke off a bit of the blister pack and packed the rest. I was very very thankful. Surprisingly it worked, although I think the migraine had worked its way through my system anyway. I was relatively painfree by the time we boarded, although I think I babbled a bit. Tom may recall me describing every cat I have owned since infancy.

At 00.45am we boarded our flight to Melbourne. As is apparently customary they forced us to remain awake while they brought dinner in at 1:45am, plus coffee tea etc. I am at least thankful that their food is actually edible and borderline tasty. Qatar Airways have caught on that no one cares what curry or casserole looks like so long as it tastes good. Then they switch off the lights at about 3:00am. At which point I have moved beyond tired to disturbingly alert. Earlier I mentioned that 6 hours flying is manageable. This is because about half way through a 14 hour flight I find myself suddenly going insane. I can't keep still, but I'm really tired. I want to claw out of my own skin. Sleep this time was impossible. Serendipitously we had been seated in a double seat (rather than a triple, so no one to jump over for toilet stops) but this also meant that we were at the loudest part of the aircraft. We had hoped to use the flight to adjust back to Aussie time by sleeping, waking and then being ready for bed when the flight landed at 10:30pm local time. This would have worked if the stewards allowed you to open the blinds to let in the daylight. We were told to close the blind and remain in darkness. They decided that 3 hours before landing we would be permitted to open the blind, so we got about 2.5 hours of daylight before we met the oncoming darkness. Hence this photo of northern WA, near Karratha.



Before landing Qatar airways show a 20 minute tourist video of Melbourne, which was a novel experience. On no other flight did we see a tourist spruik. It gave exceptionally specific information of where the tourist info centre is, places to stay, eat, shop and experience. It did swell our heads a bit as we nodded in agreement of all the awesome things you can do in Melbourne. And also how multicultural Melbourne is. We didn't really see multiculturalism promoted anywhere else, even though London has large Indian and African migrant populations, Italy, large Asian populations and Paris large Muslim populations.

Aussie customs is also noteworthy. We were sniffer-dogged in single file and asked a million questions about soil, animal products, food, medications... We declared some things that we weren't sure about, which I think is actually quicker than declaring nothing. Clearly if you have nothing to declare you must be hiding something. I was able to keep the feather in my hat though. The woman with her apple collecting her baggage did cop an earful though and the full brunt of dry Aussie humour which I thought was a bit savage for a first time foreigner.

And now we are home. We've had barely any sleep, as it's quite hot here and our bedroom catches the morning sun (die you burning ball of gas). Back to work tomorrow. Yay.

Last day in Rome

What do you do on the last day of a huge trip? Well we wandered about a bit and basically did what we fancied. This involved catching a bus to the northern part of Rome to look at various outdoor exhibits. We saw the Palazzo Navone, the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain which are all in one broad area. The Trevi Fountain is definitely worth a visit and is enormous!

We found the crowds here too, we had been beginning to think we were the only tourists here. I have bought some shoes. They had none of the really cool ones in my size, so I settled for some slightly less cool ones that won't turn my feet into little Chinese break-y feet. I also bought some blue boots. The shoe shopping here has been rather underwhelming so I am hoping to keep the rest of my euros to exchange for Aussie $$ to put a deposit on some Fluevogs.

We've been a bit emotional today. Perhaps it's the end of the trip, perhaps it's random local diseases, perhaps it's cabin fever. I think 24 hours sleeping on a plane is not a bad idea. We wanted some good old fashioned tourist comfort and for me that is furry squeaky things. So Rome Zoo it was. Rome zoo is pretty small, and the animals look a bit sad but it did the job. They had Linxes (which I now call Luchs because I love the word) and tigers and a lion which totally crept up on us and then swanned past the window, terrifying some small children. We also saw some wolves curled up in a little dugout each. Carnivores have a very good way of looking cute sometimes. We did spot a leopard that seemed pretty upbeat and interested in something...


So we looked to where she was looking...Aha. Lunch.

The zoo is nicely situated in the botanical gardens of Rome which are beautiful to walk through and are up on a hill, providing a rather nice view of the city. The city here seems more tranquil, and city streets more pleasant than the hustle bustle of the south (as well as the dodgy middle with the termini station).

In all it was a nice way to spend the last day. We caught a random bus which took us vaguely in the right direction while deviating enough to give us one last tour.

Tonight we have ordered pizza plus Nutella involtini (I love Europe).

See you all soon.

Why are Italian trains always late?

I don't know what it is about the Italian public transport system, but every train we have caught has departed or arrived late. It seems to be unavoidable. So while waiting for our (late) train to Venice, we considered that even the little train stations in Europe are miles bigger than Spencer St station.It takes about 90 minutes to travel from Florence to Venice. The trip was foggy, and we discovered that this was because Venice was foggy. The train deposits you at a rather random point on the island and there are umpteen routes you can take away from the station. My suggestion to you, from my humble experience, is do not just pick a bloody road and assume you are heading in vaguely the right direction. Do not assume that a 2 foot wide walkway is in fact *not* a main thoroughfare. Do not assume that sticking to the wide roads will in fact do anything other than take you in circles, which is exactly what we did. After drifting around strangely empty streets for about half an hour we found ourselves back at the train station. How the hell did that happen? Okay, main road, follow the people. Aha! Lunch. Cafes in Italy are a bit hit and miss and to the dismay of foodies everywhere we have found that buffet is safe and cheap. Yes I know. I am a culinary criminal.Venice seems to support most of its citizens through the sale of "Murano" glass (genuine or otherwise). Every second shop sells Murano glass. Or Venetian masks. Or both. After a lecture from a well meaning and sale intentioned shop keeper we were confident that we could tell the real murano from the fake. Unfortunately we did not like what was in her shop, or much else. Eventually I did find a necklace that I liked and two beautiful, tiny glass cats. I am happy that Italy is a cat nation. We also saw this rather cool lamp-post hanging on the wall.


Venice looks as if it will probably not survive our lifetime. It is a sad, grimy town that feeds and chokes on tourism. I am glad that we did not spend more of our trip here. One day was enough to walk around the canals, be harrassed by gondelier boatmen and look at glass jewellery.Our accommodation had been extremely kind in suggesting local eateries, and so the last few nights we have tried each one. At the last one, Tom decided to try Florentine style steak. They managed to give him a small serve. It was 650gm. This, thing, could have been half the cow. How he ate it I'll never know. Even the waitress was nervous. I think it is a group dish normally at around the 1kg mark. While Tom did survive enough to try my panncotta, he has sworn off menu items that are priced per kg.Our last morning in Florence was spent walking through the town squares looking at shops and sights. I had hoped to buy a jacket and some shoes, but nothing seems quite right. We did manage to find some really interesting sweets, like tiny boiled lollies filled with liquid. (It may be alcohol, we haven't worked it out.) The trip to Rome was fairly uneventful (other than our train being late).

The main station in Rome, Termini, is a pretty frightening place. Immediately you are jumped on by hotel sales staff for an "information service" who seem to disappear when you mention that you already have accommodation. Then the station itself looks like you could get mugged any minute. Failing to completely work out the metro system (we've managed everywhere else, so I don't know if this says something about us or Rome) we decided that walking was a viable option. It was bright and sunny so it didn't seem like a bad idea. It wasn't too bad, although the dingey-ness of the train station goes on for a bit. Our hotel is in a nice residential area on a street commonly used for drag racing by the sounds of the early morning traffic-I-am-trying-to-sleep-you-inconsiderate-motoring-bastards.We arrived at lunch time, so a quick trip to the local archaelogical sites was in order.

The colosseum is about a 30 minute walk away and from there we walked all the way around the forum and the hippodrome etc. Lots of rubble anyway. Some of it is spectacular, and the very idea that in these spots the icons of ancient history ate slept and stabbed each other to death here is amazing to consider. We arrived too late to really head in anywhere, so we made note of what we wanted to see the next day. The walk home was agony. I think I have completely destroyed my feet.Dinner was at a local restaurant which I think has one set of rules for locals and another for tourists. We seemed to be the only ones given menus, although I didn't want seafood buffet anyway. I recall at some point learning that in Italy pasta is a small entree served before the larger meat courses. They lied. We've tried this tack a few times assuming that the last restaurant is giving us a western serve of pasta. I think that our goal of losing some weight and gaining some fitness has well and truly failed, despite the plethora of towers, steps and hills we have climbed this last month.

We were eventyually roused by the sweet sounds of Rome [cough] in the morning, and headed back to the colosseum for the inside tour. While in Paris and Milan we dodged the gypsies selling wares, here we had to dodge the bloody tour guide spruikers. Go away. We have eyes. We know the stories. We do not want your guide dictating what we see. They are persistent, I will give them that.
The colosseum is much what it looks like in every photo you've seen. It is impressive, but not remarkable. Maybe I am sightseen out? We did however spot a descendant of one of the mighty gladiator panthers that once roamed and fought in the colosseum:

He was definitely up for the tummy scratch.

Given the feet situation we then caught the train to the Vatican in search of the sistine chapel. We got lost, and wound up in the Basilica di St Pietro, which was also rather good, and it did allow us to spot some of the pyjama and silly hat wearing Swiss guard (thank you Eddie Izzard). Sorry it's on the side, we can't rotate it in the software available.


The Sistine Chapel is at the end of the Vatican museum precinct. You have to walk through the whole museum before you can see the Sistine Chapel. I'm disliking the pope already.
The Sistine chapel is enormous, and while the artwork is spectacular is also miles above you on the ceiling. There is no sitting on the ground to look up. You can stand (and kill your neck) or snaffle some of the prized real estate that is the seating on the sides of the chapel (and kill your neck). Photography is strictly forbidden and shhhing is prevalent. I personally think God is doing all the work stretching out to Adam on his little cloud, while pouty Adam makes a half hearted attempt to poke back. Aww dad, don't poke me, someone'll see. That or Adam has the floppiest wrists ever. Oh you...

We then caught the bus back over the river to Isola Tiberina, which we thought was a suitable place to go considering our cat Tiberius. He therefore has his own island. Lucky puss.

Tomorrow we aim to see the other half of Rome (Ha!) well okay the Trevi fountain and its surrounds...

After that it is an early morning flight for a late night arrival in... Melbourne.

Ciao!

Cat Sanctuary

Since I last wrote, we have moved countries and languages!

We left St Anton bright and early, much to my disgust, although that was quickly abated (even with the lack of coffee) when a stag appeared at the window... It checked out the surroundings, lifted a hoof, scouted some more and then leapt over the road. Amazing. The hilarious bit was the younger stag behind it going 'shit shit shit shit' as it bolted up the hill (which we had climbed hand over foot) and over the road.

Since I last wrote, we have moved countries and languages! We left St Anton bright and early, much to my disgust, although that was quickly abated (even with the lack of coffee) when a stag appeared at the window... It checked out the surroundings, lifted a hoof, scouted some more and then leapt over the road. Amazing. The hilarious bit was the younger stag behind it going 'shit shit shit shit' as it bolted up the hill (which we had climbed hand over foot) and over the road. Our trip down the mountain from St Anton to Milano took us via Zurich and their different currency (thanks for that) where we stopped for lunch, and then down to Milano. The train trip was eerie. We were the only ones on the carriage, going through empty dilapidated towns with no one in site... This cued Tom for zombie actions which I did not appreciate. We eventually made it to Milan and headed for our hostel. The Italians employ a similar method to street signage as the French which is the 'put-the-sign-up-on-the-wall-above-the-window-unlit-so-noone-can-see-it' method. Our hotel ended up being on the 3rd floor with the smallest lift I've come across so far. Me, Tom and the back packs nearly did not fit. After a confusing conversation with our English speaking reception we went to our smoky room. Not the most salubrious of accommodation but oh well. To be honest Milano gave me a sense of awkwardness. Not in the right place, the right language. Everything felt not quite right. I managed to completely stuff up breakfast even though I had spoken correctly, as the Italians have a funny way of running cafes. Fortunately a motherly Italian who spoke English came to our aid and we got our breakfast (and needless to say, some fucking awesome coffee). We wandered aimlessly through conservative high end fashion stores which bored me to tears. I had wanted to do some shopping in Italy but this all looked boring and expensive. We found our way to the Castello Sforzesco which had some vaguely interesting exhibition of religious art, musical instruments and egyptian mummies. This all paled to insignificance when we realised that the moat, now no longer filled with water was a cat paradise, home to about 40 cats in a few separate colonies. There were ginger ones, tabby ones, black ones, tortoiseshell. We ooed at them all and took photos. The cats are protected by the castello and the staff feed them, though I doubt they are petted and smooched. The seemed fairly wild. This was most certainly our highlight of Milano. Cats notwithstanding I was concerned that if cat colonies were to be the highlight of Italy, then the next week was going to be a bit of a drag. Not so, for yesterday we arrived in Firenze. I love Firenze. The moment we stepped out of the train station we knew we were somewhere completely different. The atmosphere was all friendliness and relaxation. We found our hotel (3rd floor, no lift, bastards) which is actually gorgeous, even with the pink stripes on the walls. The sun shines here and we have a view of the duomo from our room (and more cats, we discovered today). The city shows its medieval
Our trip down the mountain from St Anton to Milano took us via Zurich and their different currency (thanks for that) where we stopped for lunch, and then down to Milano. The train trip was very eerie. We were the only ones on the carriage, going through empty dilapidated towns with no one in sight... This cued Tom for zombie actions which I did not appreciate. We eventually made it to Milan and headed for our hostel. The Italians employ a similar method to street signage as the French which is the 'put-the-sign-up-on-the-wall-above-the-window-unlit-so-noone-can-see-it' method. Here they even etch them in marble so there is no colour to distinguish street sign from random marble plate. Our hotel ended up being on the 3rd floor with the smallest lift I've come across so far. Me, Tom and the back packs nearly did not fit. After a confusing conversation with our English speaking reception we went to our smoky room. Not the most salubrious of accommodation but oh well.

To be honest Milano gave me a sense of awkwardness. Not in the right place, the right language. Everything felt not quite right. I managed to completely stuff up breakfast even though I had spoken correctly, as the Italians have a funny way of running cafes. Fortunately a motherly Italian who spoke English came to our aid and we got our breakfast (and needless to say, some fucking awesome coffee).

We wandered aimlessly through conservative high end fashion stores which bored me to tears. I had wanted to do some shopping in Italy but this all looked boring and expensive. We found our way to the Castello Sforzesco which had some vaguely interesting exhibition of religious art, musical instruments and egyptian mummies.

This all paled to insignificance when we realised that the moat, now no longer filled with water was a cat paradise, home to about 40 cats in a few separate colonies.

There were ginger ones, tabby ones, black ones, tortoise-shell. (There are 4 in the photo.) We ooed at them all and took photos. The cats are protected by the castello and the staff feed them, though I doubt they are petted and smooched. They seemed fairly wild. This was most certainly our highlight of Milano. Cats notwithstanding I was concerned that if cat colonies were to be the highlight of Italy, then the next week was going to be a bit of a drag.

Not so, for yesterday we arrived in Firenze. I love Firenze. The moment we stepped out of the train station we knew we were somewhere completely different. The atmosphere was all friendliness and everything is relaxed. We found our hotel (3rd floor, no lift, bastards) which is actually gorgeous, even with the pink stripes on the walls. The sun shines here and we have a view of the duomo from our room (and more cats, we discovered today). The city shows its medieval roots all over with tiny laneways flanked by ancient buildings. Everything here is beautiful. The shops are all little indepedent boutiques with unique shoes and 'SALDI!' (Sale!). I have thusfar been restrained...

Yesterday we visited the Duomo here in Firenze which is the Catterdrale di Santa Marie del Fiore. It is coloured marble all over and has a huge dome over the top which they did not have the technology to build when they started to build the cathedral. By the time they were ready to build the dome however, technology had caught up!

We wandered all over town, ate gelato and climbed the 414 steps of the tower beside the catheral to watch the sunset (which I think we missed by about 3 minutes). It all sounds very romantic until you try and get up those stairs. Then you get up there and it's freezing and windy and Tom has vertigo... It was nice nonetheless, and the view is great. :)


We ate at a very friendly local bar where the meals are small but bellissimo and the beer is made with honey. I'm not sure if I mentioned earlier this trip but Europeans are obsessed with nutella, so naturally dessert was nutella and marscapone cheese calzone: heaven.

Today we walked (after binding my blistered foot) to the Piazzale Michaelangelo which is high on a hill where you can see the whole of Firenze stretched out. It is a magnificent view. So much so that we shared it with a wedding party. Walking down the hill and past another cat sanctuary we went to the Palazzo Pitti which is where the royal family lived for several hundred years. It houses an enormous amount of religious art (Had I mentioned the religious art?) I know all the saints and martydoms now. I have seen millions of Maddona con bambini paintings and sculptures. Jesus on a cross. Jesus off a cross. Jesus held by angels. By saints. By women. Jesus poked by Thomas. It's all there in gold paint and gilded frames. I get the sense they are religious here...

We then continued the hunt for apparently the best gelato in Firenze, at Vivoli. Yesterday we spent what seemed like hours searching for a street that was in our tourist guide but not on the actual map. Around and round and round we went. In vain. Fortunately with the free internet access here (Hence the liberal blogging) we 'googled' it and marked it on our tourist map. Today we past it on our way from the palazzo to the Academie, where David himself stands. Vivoli was shut. Damn you, you gelato swilling bastards.

The Academie holds David, possibly one of the most famous marble scupltures. It is indeed a sight to behold. The craftsmanship is superb (no I know nothing about marble). The hands have real veins and everything looks real and life like. It did leave us with some questions which I won't post here, but I would definitely recommend heading to the Academie to see David if you get the chance. The rest of the gallery I can take or leave. Madonna con bambini, Jesus, gold. It's all there.

Ciao!

Not skiing in the Austrian Alps

Well we've been in St Anton am Alberg for about 5 days. We were impressed to discover that the train from Innsbruck will take you to the centre of St Anton as the mountain has a train station in the middle of it. After some mooching about we caught a taxi to our accommodation, which I think moonlights as accommodation while being a full time award winning diary farm. The smell is amazing. It infiltrates every orifice whether you cover your nose and mouth or not. It's in the house too, though thankfully not in our room. Oh I could never be a farmer.

On a positive note however, it does have two cats: a fraidy one and a very very smoochy one. The smoochy one has been snuck into our room several times whereby she blissfully rolls on the bed purring and nipping your fingers while you scritch her. She is clearly not allowed on beds, or even in guest rooms so I think we may have taught her some bad habits. The whole mountain seems to be cat central actually, which is a nice change from the plethora of dogs in Germany and the rest of Austria where dogs are allowed in trains, shops and restaurants .

As the title suggests, while we have been in St Anton for a week we haven't done much skiing. I have unfortunately been sick for the last fortnight and it came to a head here in St Anton (plus a mild bout of gastro) . I have alas not really been up for downhill skiing. We did do about a day and a half of cross country, but it is so different from the Australian style that it took both Tom and I ages to get the hang of the new skis and the ruts. Cross country skiing here is a bit like being your own personal tram; they groom the track with two narrow grooves for skis and dammit you'll stay in that even down insane hills. I fell over. Lots. My hips and knees will never be the same. Tom fell over too, which made me feel better (talk about schädenfreude). With this in mind, we decided, regretfully to give downhill a miss, which is a real shame.

I think also that Australians invented a new ski level: green. Green slopes do not exist here. You have blue, red and black. And the blues do not look friendly.

We did take the lift to the summit just to see the top which was spectacular and bloody freezing, where Tom immediately got a moderate bout of vertigo. Interestingly the ski slopes almost look less steep up here. Seems you have to get right up to get the flat bits. I did look longingly at the skiers at this point but my knees are wrecked so I think it was safer to avoid it. I should really have ski lessons but perhaps in English would be a better starting point.

Tomorrow we have a long train trip ahead of us as we head from Austria to Italy.

Auf wiedersehen Österreich!

The city of salt and music

Being musical theatre obsessed, Salzburg was of course a must-stop city. For once we arrived during day time and had time to see the sights as soon as we arrived. Sadly we had arrived on Sunday which meant not much was open. Little did we know Monday was some other special non-opening day so many of the tourist attractions (eg the museum and the mozarthaus) were shut.

We did manage to get up the steepest cable car track I have ever seen and explored Festung Hohensalzburg, an enormous fortress on the top of a mountain. Why the bishops thought they would ever be invaded up there I'll never know, but even if you made it up the sheer cliffs you still had insane walls to deal with as well as deathly defense structures.

Despite my love of the sound of music we saw very little from the film. It seems to be dotted all over greater Salzburg and the tour is four hours, which we didn't have in one chunk. I did see Nonnberg Abbey which is not only in the film but is the actual abbey that the true Maria von Trapp was at.

We did manage to have an exquisite dinner in the oldest restaurant in Europe which for an exorbitant fee you can have with you own private-ish opera show. In a ballroom with a string quintet we listened and watched excerpts from Die Zäuberflöte, Don Giovanni and Le Nozze di Figaro. The singers walked among the audience and acted out the songs so it was fairly easy to work out what was going on.

The next morning we continued our tour of gingerbread (made with honey and surprisingly crunchy) and then caught the train to Innsbruck and then to St Anton am Arlberg. Amazingly the train was 40 minutes late, which you don't expect in Germany or Austria. We have managed to get here safely in any case, and now I am too tired to ski.