The Adventure- Paris to Hong Kong

Good ol’ Jan took us down to the train station and we purchased 2 tickets get us to Charles de Gaulle airport.  Actually getting on the train we a little hairy, to say the least.  The trip from the ticket office to the Airport platform would have been a walk of about 5 minutes, through the previously mentioned stinky, stinky underground.  This would have been okay except we had to lug our bags UP no less than 6 sets of stairs and then, intriguingly enough, DOWN 2 other sets of stairs.  I can only imagine that the train staff sit in their camera office and crack up at the poor sods, trying to heave those heavy bags up and down!

Finally on the train, you would think we could relax but no!  Every blighter looks as shifty as hell and I am sure they are watching our bags for that moment when they can snatch and jump off.  I guard them closer than an Asian shop owner in Manukau carpark!

As we moved further away from town, the train thinned out and Alex and I could sit and guard our stuff.  THEN a teenage boy and girl come in and set up a microphone and speaker and began to busk on the train!  It was a brilliant ploy, I thought because going to the airport, most people would think- entrepreneurial!  I will give them my spare coins that I can do nothing with (we gave them about 23 cents all in single coins, so it sounded like HEAPS) then they moved on to the next carriage.  To be fair the singing was woeful, but they were out there doing it!

The Paris airport was simple and we were through and waiting without a hitch.  I had planned to be a bit early just in case our passport numbers being different to our booking documents was a hassle, but it was all sweet.  We were over in our baggage weight allowance, but one Miss Sparkly Eyes was served by one sweet French boy and like magic on a moonlit night, he coyly smiled and said “this vwill be fiine, this iees ok” and just like that, about 8 kilos were forgiven (if only my clothes worked like that!!!)

The flight was reasonably good for a long haul, with three notable exceptions!  The woman directly across the isle had a cold and at intervals of about 30 minutes would do the LOUDEST nose blow, known to man!  Even the pilot was woken up.  Poor thing did have a cold, but surely she had heard of pseudoephedrine??

……then, deep in the night, with the whole plane asleep, there came this insistent alarm- “barp, barp, barp, barp…” at such regular intervals, I was wide awake and searching for a hostess, to gauge the mood!  Next think, large, large German man 2 seats back with his small, small Asian wife and two adorable kids, leaps up from his seat with pillows and blankets flying!  He lurches up and dongs the head of the man one seat in front, who was also fit to freak!  I fully anticipated to hear over the speaker system “…stall, stall, stall, slats engage, slats engage…” in some freaky automated voice, but nooooooo….. Helmet Von Dumb-arse had left his alarm clock on in his hand luggage!!!!

Sometime later, I had been looking at my watch in the dark with out my glasses and trying to see what the time was and unlike loudest blow woman or Helmet, I was not willing to wake the entire section for my own selfish needs, so through squinted eyes with my watch held as far away as my arm could make it, it was around 4.  Later again, same dance…. it looked like 4 ish, later again……. much cursing of optometrists, bags, planes, eyes and sleeping people on planes….. the watch still looked around 4.  I figured, I must not be getting much sleep and this was the longest flight in the universe.  At 7, they decide to bring around breakfast and woke the entire plane up, including me….. I then discover that my watch still SAYS 4 O’CLOCK!!!!  It had died on the plane!  I wonder if insurance will cover that mishap??   The rest of the trip, however was rather uneventful, with much less turbulence off the Himalayan Mountains than the last route on the way over (which was dreadful for insecure flyers… not me though…????)

You Can Look Like an Egg, But At Least You Look Like an Egg In Paris!

It was raining and quite cold and Alex decided to wear stuff that probably was not going to be warm enough for the day, so we punished her by buying her a Paris poncho and a beret!

  She pretty much wore it for the best part of the day, good-humouredly.  The sun did come out at one stage and then later we used the poncho as a tarp to cover us from the pouring rain on the top of the double decker, no top roof, bus!!  (didn’t really work and we had to scarper downstairs..)

The Eiffel Tower

We took the tourist bus around Paris and they give you little headphones to explain all the significant parts, in the breaks, when the bus is stopped, they play random music and it turns out Iain knows the words to some obscure song that was playing on the information bus.  The chorus seemed to be Chanseellleeesay, Chanselleesay….. then some other French words.  He had his earphones in, so had no idea how loud he actually is……  but it was funny, mainly because there is very little life and spontaneity in the French! 

Eventually we got off the bus at the Eiffle Tower and Alex, Jan and I decided to go to the top, while Cathy and Iain, who had been there before, had other plans.  We hoped in the line, only to have Iain run over and rescue us from the really long line, because “there was a shorter one over here!”  We were all pretty keen because it had gone from cold to freaken freezing in the space of about 30 minutes.  The short line was a better plan…..  until we found out that the short line circumvented the waiting for the lift by making you take the stairs!!!!!!!???????  We were in and so we started to climb…. and climb….and climb…. and climb …. and did I mention some climbing…???  We made our way up through the howling wind and ice and thin air, until we eventually got to the elevator point where you had to take that lift up (quietly….. thank GOD!!) so then we waited in this line that frankly New Zealanders would never be a part of (we do not have a stand in line mentality) so then, we waited and shuffled and (etc, etc) until we made our way, wet and cold to the lift.

Once in, with 67000 other people pressed in around you (actually the maximum was something like 42, but seriously! Do they need to be that close!!) we started up and that was all fine for the girl who doesn’t like heights, right up until we burst into open air with clear surrounds on the elevator for ….a …..long…..way ….up!!!!!  I leaned into Alex and said, “we go up, do the round and then- we are out of here, I hate this” and she was okay with that, good natured soul that she is.

Once at the top, I went to the toilet, right up there!  Imagine the suck when you flush!  Then made a fool out of myself by trying to open the door out, instead of in and being rescued by an American who simply pushed it for me!!  I think I was a bit ‘get me off this whim, hysterical’ by then but at least the others were ready to get off as soon as possible. 

Ick!  Not doing that again!  Damn that FOMO’s disease!

Having Hot Chocolateee while safely back on solid earth!

Emmanuel and the Taxi Bike...

 
After much wandering Alex, Jan and I decided to give the little cycle taxi’s a go!  We hopped into the taxi the Emmanuel was driving and we got a ride from close to Notre Damn along to the Lourve.  The traffic was what can only be described as a bun fight! He traversed the roads with absolute conviction and never hesitated!!! We on the other hand flinched, cringed and generally did our best to recall our travel insurance details!  Emmanuel was born in Paris and had been to New Zealand, which gave us a talking point.  Apparently he had been in Christchurch 2 months after the February 22^nd earthquake.  He clearly has no fear!

It was raining, which was a bit of a bummer, but we got to the Lourve in one piece and score city!! We met a lady who was leading a tour group and had 3 tickets for the VIP line.  The whole time, we kept thinking this is a scam, but it turns out probably not as we went straight past all the lining up peasants and into the museum!!!  We repaid the favour later when we met up with Iain and Cathy and they had been given 2 tickets they didn't want, so we gave the tickets to an American couple and the man said “ if I wasn’t here with my wife, I would kiss you” (err, no thanks, I am from South Auckland, I would probably have to punch you)  then we discussed New Zealand and now he is totally coming because he can’t believe New Zealanders and so spontaneous and friendly….. 

Charlemagne- Bravely off to War......

The brave King Charlemagne, facing adversity
wherever he found it and  worked hard on cleaning up all his enemies and foes........    

I have been forced to piece together the story of Charlemagne from the small snippets of information I have been able to obtain.  If you look on Wikipedia, you will likely find it is all true, as per the telling! (or as true as Wikipedia can be..???)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlemagne

So, Charlemagne was this King born in 742 and he was pretty much a leader of the Franks and then Italy and then was crowned King in 800, he has this whopping great statue outside Notre Damn 

which tends to dominate that side of the courtyard. 

He did, however, seem to have a bit of a problem with mess, so it appears he would head off to war with his trusty stead (horse) and a few other serfs, slaves and general riff raff who carried the essentials of travel and battle, such as spare armour, weapons, rations for the troops and his very special blue, plastic broom.

 

It would seem he also traveled with his gay-est traveling knights who could be found posing at all times, looking as saucy as possible and why do you supposed he picked this particular group of young men?  

No, not because they looked good in their tight armour, it was because everyone knows gay guys are incredibly fastidious, even when on the battle field and the trusty blue broom was safe- and used!  Whew, lucky we sorted that Parisian mystery out!!

Either that, or it was a really cranky cleaner who said 'bugger this!" and chucked his broom out the window of the highest point of Notre Damn.

Toilets of Europe......

I like nice clean toilets- who doesn’t?  As our holiday draws to a close, I can report the best and worst public toilets of our travels….  I know this is a strange topic, but I would really like to celebrate the best because it was such a surprise.

Those of you that now me even vaguely will know my total and utter aversion to public toilets, but there are times when you are travelling that you need to use the convenience, because it could be a long time between stops. 

The worst- (drumroll please…)   Lake Como in Italy.  Slits in the ground that slop down toward the never never.  I stepped in, took one look and turned around and left- disgusto!  Evidence of someone not being able to balance and go was way too much for me!

The best-  (trumpet blast) Paris railway station, Gare de Lyon.  Beautiful, although kind of freaky.  They were attended by a large African woman, the stalls were large (in fact larger than some of the motel rooms we have stayed in!!!) and decorated with views of Paris.  Shut the door and this REALLY loud music was playing, clearly to distract from any other noises around the room.  

The surprise is that in some of the train stations, whole platforms smell like the boys toilet after a busy lunchtime at school!  One train station that we have been using, which is closest to our hotel reeks and I have to put my shirt over my face at one point near some homeless people because it is so bad.

We arrived in Paris early this morning, to rain and mist and more traffic here, then the average holiday Friday in Auckland.  We found the New Zealand Embassy and spoke to the wonderful staff there who had our passports ready to go.  I confessed on the way into Paris that the London Embassy had told me they would not recommend travelling through Europe without our passports and perhaps we should alter our plans and pick them up in Rome, some time after Easter.  The Rome Embassy was more cool, she said as long as you don’t need a plane, you’ll be sweet!  (Kiwi interpretation of her very proper English)  I decide to go with her more encouraging advice and had I run into trouble, I would have been ringing you Emily from Rome Embassy!!!

Leadlight windows from Notre Damn

Iain then fessed up that he had just read the car manual and we were not allowed to take the rental van into Czech Republic!  Best 3 days that van ever had!!!!!  What goes on tour, stays on tour!???!!!

Alex lights a candle for Gran and Grandad

Count the chimney pots!!

Well, we have made it this far without mishap and are now staying just out of the main centre of Paris, only by about 4 metro train stops, so close really.  We can see the top of the Eiffel Tower from our room, so we are not that far away!  Today we visited the church at Notre Damn completed in 1345!!! (Alex lit a candle for you, Mum and Dad, its in the church), the padlock love bridge (didn’t have ours with us, so a job for tomorrow), the Lourve (and saw Mona Lisa and many other amazing works of art for you Rho), Arc de Triomphe and the tomb , Champs-Elysees and generally walked until we fell.  The others are now crashed out in their rooms as well, resting their feet for tomorrow and I am looking out my tiny verandah door, watching the sun go down over Paris.  If I need a bit of a pick-up, I wander over to the tiny verandah and look out over the chimney pots, to top of the Eiffel Tower. 

6th Floor, spiral staircase, God help us if there is a fire!!

I might be very tired and foot sore, but I am tired and foot sore in PARIS!!!  I am toasting the city by having a tipple of red out of my tiny bathroom, plastic water glass.  Here’s to you, Paris.  (Ian, I am bringing you back here, so start planning now!)

Crops

 

The arable land use is really interesting as we travel through different countries.  We were surprised in Italy how each tiny bit of land in a backyard was used to the enth, with gardens and chook houses and general feed the family stuff.  Then in Switzerland there were little chalets and plots that apparently were rented out by the owner to people who wanted to have small growing sections. The chalets contain all the tools etc and you come out to your ‘garden’ and tend it for a while…..

We could not say we saw the same enthusiasm for growing stuff in the Czech Republic as they lived in apartment blocks that went kilometre after kilometre and the only difference in the apartments, was the colour of the building.  I think this more than likely reflects the poverty of the country and also the political upheaval they have experienced in the last 30+ years. 

We started to notice the yellow field when we once again crossed into Austria as we made our way out the bottom end and toward Germany.  Cathy was supposed to Google what the crop was and we have hassled her for days about it, only to be told today by Jan, that it is a crop that is used to make Canola Oil.  Now that we are in France, we have noticed large tracts of land used for cropping and farming, which you don’t really expect to find in Europe as I had expected it to be packed to the gunnels with people (where do they fit them all???)  In the Lake Constantine area, there were heaps of grapes and fruit trees, which is close to the Black Forest (or lack thereof) so it must be really fertile land. 

Jan is Back

Dijon is an amazing place and we could have spent a couple of days there.. (next time, Ian )  The old city is wrapped around what appears to be a residence of a Duke and it is ornately designed, no doubt with defence in mind!  It is lovely and old and peaceful and I feel we did not have enough time, but we have had a taster.

Jan has already managed to go where none of the rest of us, bar Alex, possibly could go…. on the children’s toys no less!

Oh!  Guess what we saw today, driving along the Autobarn??  A naked man!  Well, possibly only naked to the waist (not really wanting to check that one out), but still pretty unusual considering it was sweatshirt weather outside and you can always turn on the aircon if you get a bit hot…????

Milking the Cow in Dijon.  No rhyme or reason why.........????

They Do It So Well in France...

I have so many stories to tell and so little internet!!  This hotel is actually quite good, but the last couple have been miserable.  We collected Jan from Colmar this morning, after a night in Freiberg, which was really lovely.  I am running out of superlatives to keep describing all these old and magnificent places!  From Colmar we went to Dijon (home of the mustard) and walked around the city.  I have photos for a later date…..

Then on to Fontainebleu (mainly to be close to Paris, to collect new passports in the morning!!  ANZAC Day, no less!!!)  We are staying in a quite old hotel, and our room is very small, in fact we have no where to put our bags out to get into them, except right in the doorway corridor.  There is, however, an amazingly French set of doors, leading out to a verandah with ivy and carved marble ballistrades…….

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fontainebleau 

It looks so much more than it is- but then again, we can't complain..... we are in France and heading to Paris for the weekend!!!!

The Black Forest (of rather disappointing proportions, actually)

In parts of Europe it is perfectly okay to stand on the side of the road and openly solicit.  We in NZ are thinking Papatoetoe Shopping Centre, late at night, after ten, with the lights out, but NO!  Apparently there is more to be gained by standing on the side of the road just across the border into the Czech Republic than one could imagine!  Also the area around the Black Forest is well known as a stop for just such a thing.  We have had heaps of laughs in our travels as we are all quietly sitting in our van, going about our travelling business and Iain pipes up “there’s one” and damn it, he is right!  But we are all too slow to actually see the poor wretch!  We spotted 3 just inside the Czech border and each time, I had let down my guard and was too slow to get a photo!  Probably not that you would want them, but proof is everything!!   

Apparently the Black Forest (well just a bunch of trees that you can see through to the other side of)  is rife with them, but again, we innocent, naïve New Zealanders miss them thinking they are just people, dressed poorly and slightly suggestively, or even totally wrong for the climate, waiting for the bus.  It is more likely one of us would rush out and give them a cardi, or a spare Ice Breaker because we think they will be getting cold!!

In NZ we travel along and as a car game, we count squashed possums on the road, in Europe you can travel along counting…….. nah, not going there!

There Are No Shorts In Munich

And now a funny blog post-  Alex’s legs!

This morning it was warm and we were waiting out the front of the motel, on the street for the van to arrive.  Alex had shorts on and to be perfectly frank, I wish I had had shorts on.  The weather is 14 seasons in one day and it was WARM. 

I have got use to the gawking that occurs around Europe when Alex wanders along.  I don’t know if it is some sort of compliment to be openly ogled by men of all ages, but I usually bring up the rear (because I am trying to get photos mostly!!!) and give them my best Momma Bear glare, but it appears that shorts are unheard of in Munich!  A novelty even!

So, Alex stand on the footpath, with our bags and I stand on the road, trying to make sure no one parks in front of the motel, so we can easily pack our bags in the van.

Every single person (read MEN) stare at my daughters legs!  Some walking toward, some subtle stares, some blatant gawks and head on backwards!!!

“Yes, they are legs!”  I state at one stage.

“Oooohhh, look!  Its shorts, the national costume of New Zealand!!”

“Yes, they’re shorts- we wear them a lot in New Zealand!”…… getting kind of annoyed and a bit loud. 

Brilliant plan enters small brain….  Every time someone walks past with their head on backward I picked up the camera and took a photo of Alex- and the Uncle Perve-y!  It didn’t stop them, but it definitely slowed them down!!

If their own Momma Bear had been better, she would have taught them some manners- also perhaps they should come down to NZ sometime and see if they can get away with that sort of behaviour! (first country to give women the vote, first transgender politician….etc…etc…) first country to teach European men some manners…????

Dachau

We spent the day going on a tour of Dachau Concentration Camp, which was both fascinating and ghoulish.  We picked up the tour in Munich and caught a train out to the city of Dachau and then caught a bus that followed the exact same path the prisoners walked in the early days to Dachau camp.  It opened in 1933  and operated for 12 years.  Hitler initially sent anyone who did not agree with his policies there, or even people who had voted against him.  Then, in a stroke of appalling brilliance, he took the disillusioned 23% of the population that were unemployed at the time and told them they were better than all these other immigrants and Jews, trained them up and turned them into soldiers!  Bingo!  Instant following.  Instant SS.

The camp has an eerie feeling about it and most of the time it is silent as you walk around.  The prison block is especially yuck, as the people were tortured, beaten and abused more than those in the general camp because the Nazi’s actually wanted something from them.  Usually information or just to prove they can dominate groups by treating one person badly and sending out the question of who might be next?

The huts were designed for 150 men and at one stage toward the end of the war they actually housed 2000+ in the same space!  Not much larger than a standard NZ classroom L

When prisoners arrived they were herded through a gate and into an antechamber where they had to relinquish all their belongings.  Prior to the war they got to keep stuff, but once the war had started, not so.  They had to hand over everything they owned, papers, jewellery, photos, clothing and then were herded into showers.  (I would die of embarrassment at the clothing part!!!)  Ironically, there is a huge sign on the wall that translates to ‘No Smoking’ as some Einstein doctor there had actually worked out it might be bad for you!!!  The irony being, nothing else in the whole camp was going to be good for your health!!!

The German words on the Dachau prison gate translate to Hard Work Sets you Free…………???  The Nazi’s had a little dummy thing going where they set up all the best kitchen stuff and washing and clean barracks and when the Red Cross would come round (prior to the war) they would stroll out all the healthier looking prisoners and feed them up and cry hearty.  (bastards!)  Everyone else got worked into the ground and feed very little, to nothing.  They even had to work when there was nothing to do.  They even had to do parade every morning until everyone was found, so if you were fortunate enough to die in the night, everyone else had to stand in whatever the weather and wait until everyone was located.  It gets down below zero here and they had to stand, and stand, and stand…..

The whole place is a memorial now and is very well done.  The guide told us that it is in the German School Curriculum and all children must study this, in the hope that it can never happen again, which you have to admire.  Europe is such a multicultural place and it must have been for many thousands of years, that it is hard to even find what you would consider to be a German looking person.  I can only imagine how easy it would have been for a purest regime to look around and go, you’re out, you’re out, you’re……. out!

One of the most sad parts of the whole tour was a memorial stature called something like 1950s Statue.  It is a little old, bald man in an over sized coat and it represents all the prisoners who were set free, only to find there was nothing to go home to, or no people or property left, so they wandered aimless.  That is something you don’t really think about because they were freed from these horrible places, so it must be better.

Very, very sad.

First Few Hours in Munich

 First observation of Germany...... this is a cafe near the main street and all the seats are single file and are in rows, all facing the same direction.  I know not why..???  First we thought something must be going on in the square ahead and everyone was sitting waiting for it to happen, but it turns out, they just like the order.

Next we head for the Laundromat in our very ethnic neighbourhood to get some rather needed washing done.  I am uncertain as to the reason for the colour chosen for the laundromat interior design.  It was electric and the signs were in German, (obviously), Arabic, Chinese and English, so it shows it must be an incredibly mixed place, much like all of Europe.  We think about immigration in NZ as a local problem, but it is clearly world wide and in Europe, has been for 1000's of years. 

The laundry took some time and we were pretty tired, so bright green silliness became the order of the day.

 And finally, when is a fake clearly a fake? 

When someone wears their Gucci slip on shoes to the Laundromat, with their socks.  To me, that doesn't scream "these shoes are genuine!!!"

More to come from Germany...... tomorrow.

If Anyone Buys Me this T-shirt I will.......

How rude!   Alex spotted the t-shirt and I have been so on and on about my blog, that maybe it was a timely shut up??  You will have to use your imagination what the other word says.......

Also the price is Czech Krona, so not so bad a price either.

Paddle Boats on the River Prague

Alex has been dying to have a go on the paddle boats so we found some in Prague and her and Cathy had a go.  We sat and watched them from the office, where the boys running it were drinking beer behind the counter and having cigarettes!  Imagine if we did that at home?  Can you imagine going to Rainbows End and waiting for them to finish their beer before you get any service???!!!!

 Cathy and Alex report that the water is really dirty and disgusto, but they seemed to have fun anyway.  They went all round the little island in the river, but were bound in by the fords in the river where they maintain the levels of the river somehow.  There also appears to be quite a distance between the low levels and the high levels of the river, from pictures around the place.  Also it looks like heaps of stuff comes down the river and can block it up.  I guess it all works out because the bridges are pretty old, all things considered.

Looking Up and Looking Down

 Right, there is a story to this one.  Remember the poor Asian boy that thought I had said he was going the wrong way?  This is tower I met him in.  The door at the immediate right of this picture was the entrance to the stone floored area and the central piece with the clock had a cylinder in the far back, left hand corner that climbed to the top.   The viewing platform is up where the little towers are, but you can't see it because of the angle.

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Here are Alex and I posing in front of the Church, you can see the arch door behind us close by the guy in the fluro green sweatshirt.  He must be Irish.....????
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 This is the amazing view out of Prague, looking north up the river.  This steeple is at the highest point around so you can look out in all directions and finally....
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This is the view down to where we were standing for the posing shot.  Count the windows from the left and we posed in front of window six, in the shadow of the building.  What a shame the fluro Irish man wasn't round to be a point of reference again!

Yes, if you are reading this, it was FOMO's disease, that got me all the way up there, despite my dislike for heights... (Fear Of Missing Out!!!)

John Lennon Wall Prague

The John Lennon Wall is an amazing piece of art on a wall in Prague.  It has become a symbol for peace and is repeatedly written on and covered in graffiti.  The pictures do not really do it justice as it is a garish clash of very clever drawing, caricatures and symbols and then just multi-coloured scribble.  The overall effect is stunning and we could have stopped for sometime to look at it, but time did not allow.  To read more about the wall and its history follow this link :-)

http://www.1pragueguide.com/john-lennon-wall

Florescent colours melt in together.

Prague on a Segway

 

Yesterday we set off early to explore Prague in the Czech Republic.  We headed for the main square and not long into our trek, we came across a guy giving free rides on Segways.  Of course we had a go, starting with Iain and Alex and eventually, once we were hooked, he told us the bargain deal for an hour tour of Prague on a Segway.  It was BRILLIANT!  They are actually rather easy to ride and the guide took us all over the place on a route through all the interesting bits, up cobbled streets, through alleys, past the smallest street in the world that a good sized Kiwi would never make it down.  Across the bridges from side to side and through buildings!  We had a great time and it set us up to have some small geographical understanding of where we were going.

Highlights: 

The guide was from Serbia and his name was Alex, so everytime I would say some thing to Alex, he would think I was talking to him.  “Alex you’re going to fast”  “Alex, don’t go so close to the road”  “Alex, that guy totally checked you out!”

We past a guy walking a tiger cub of some description!

Segways can do donuts, but not wheelies.

We did it before the streets got RIDICULOUSLY busy.

When we had finished the guide gave Alex his phone number!!!! AS IF I WOULD LET HER CALL HIM!!!?????

Alex and Alex

The man with the cub!!! Seriously a cub, walking up the street on a chain.  I am surprised it didn't eat all the other little handbag dogs people also had on chains!!!