20 Jul 07 Fort William
We have arrived in Fort William after an overnight ride on the ScotRail sleeper train. That journey was one of the most surreal I’ve had… Strange squeaking, squealing and banging sounds broke up the night, making it difficult to get any sleep in the pitch black 4×6 foot cabin. I had visions we were riding in a tow trailer over fields of dead bodies. Creepy.
Surprisingly there is no mobile network in this town, the second largest we will visit along the walk, and I doubt there will be until Inverness. It’s unusual not to see people yapping on their phones or typing away their text messages. Fort William is tiny though - we’ve walked through it six times already and haven’t yet checked into the B&B! Weather is great though and we are after a shower we’ll go for a few hours walking in the Glen Nevis forested valley.
Tomorrow we walk to north Spean Bridge.
19 Jul 07 A hungry man smells meat far.
The title of this post comes from this page of Scottish phrases. I like to think I can smell meat far, too, so the phrase fits as good as any!
In a few hours we will be on a sleeper train to Fort William and will walk swarmed by midges up to Inverness. The Great Glen Way walk will take nine days for us, though more adventurous people might do it in 3-5 days.
I will endeavour to shoot a photographic diary of the trip and post the tales here on the blog afterwards. I expect we will see many kilts worn properly with a sporran. In fact I may be tempted to purchase a caseload of sporrans for all the men I know. So the question is, what will you use your sporran for?
30 Mar 07 Going for a little walk
We received booking confirmation for a walk in Scotland in July:
“You have chosen to walk along the Great Glen Way, which is a scenic and exciting walk through the Highlands of Scotland. From Fort William to Inverness, this trek offers much variety and interest.”
The itinerary:
Fort William to Gairlochy 10.5 miles / 17 km
Gairlochy to South Laggan 12 miles / 19 km
South Laggan to Fort Augustus 10.5 miles / 17 km
Fort Augustus to Invermoriston 8 miles / 13 km
Invermoriston to Drumnadrochit 14 miles / 22 km
Foyers to Dores 12 miles / 19 km (cruise across Loch Ness from Drum.)
Dores to Inverness 10 miles / 16 km
Total distance: 77 miles / 123 km
Flickr has over 700 photos tagged “Great Glen Way” but I’m reluctant to look through them since I’m looking forward to experiencing it for myself!
11 Oct 06 Edinburgh
So busy busy through October with visitors all month! Erin from Vancouver dropped in to stay a week and we traveled up to Edinburgh. “If it ain’t Scottish it’s crap!” What an incredibly beautiful old city to spend a few days in :)
We rode the tour bus, we bought tartan wool scarves and blankets and Erin picked up a gorgeous Scottish tam with pom-pom on top. We climbed a bit of a mountain called Arthur’s Seat in the center of the city. Near the top a cheerful old chap gave us toffees from his pocket.
We sang some traditional songs with a quartet (complete with accordian and hand drum) in a local pub, toured Edinburgh Castle and the Palace of Holyroodhouse and sampled some haggis.
Here’s a couple of photos:
19 Jul 06 To the beach!
This time I’ll give in and admit there really is a heatwave happening here! Current temperature is 34 degrees, and schools have even closed early. It’s not a good day to be riding the tube, which fits just fine with my plan to stay inside as much as possible.
Especially since I got a bit scorched down at the beach on Sunday :)
The south-coast beach at Brighton isn’t the closest to London. You can get to the east-coast beaches at Essex in about an hour by train, but we’ve wanted to take a Brighton trip for quite awhile and it’s only an extra 15 minute ride. The train departs from Blackfriars Station which is a few tube stops from home.
We arrived in Brighton around 9:30 and it was already sweaty-hot, even at the shore. Ocean! The water was a gorgeous deep aqua colour… but that’s one long stretch of pebbly beach.
Much of the beach is dotted with canvas lounge chairs you can rent for £1.50, but exploring the promenade and pier was more interesting. Just like any town with a beach, there’s a fair number of chippy’s (essentially a concession with a deep-fryer), pub patios and boat rental outlets lining the promenade.
The pier is where all the fun fair action goes on, it houses a gazebo with carnival games and casino slot machines. I blew about £2 playing a silly coinslot game where you drop your coin onto a huge pile of other coins with the goal of hitting a metal sliding thing that pushes all the coins into an even bigger pile. You cross your fingers and hope the big pile shifts just enough so a bunch of coins (ie. the ‘booty’) will fall out, but odds are rather slim I’d say. You might just win 50p though, never know!
Next destination: Crazy Mouse!
With some (just a little) persistence, Matt convinced me to climb aboard a Crazy Mouse coaster car, a ride which from the ground seemed harmless. We had watched others go round and not heard any shrieking. And it’s not like there’s upside-down loops…
But now we know what the ‘Crazy’ part is: just the feeling you’ll launch off the end of the track and over the edge of the pier, crashing into the water 100 feet below while locked into a coaster car. No biggy :) The cars jerk around so rigidly, too, that you can’t help but imagine that loud snap sound you just heard means you’re strapped into that one car in a million bound to go off the rails. It didn’t.
Later, just beyond the mini-golf course, we caught ‘the world’s oldest operating electric train‘ eastward down the beach toward the sand sculpture festival. Housed under a big tent (so you have to pay to see) are several enormous, impressive sand creations made with a Roman theme. We gasped at the skill, time and patience required to achieve such works of art, then giggled at how erotic - even pornographic - some of the sculptures were! Hey, kids admission is only £4.
Away from the beach we shopped a little in the Lanes, a nest of winding streets with all sorts of shops, and Matt bought me a lovely pink purse :) Had a cursory look at the exterior of the Royal Pavillion and ducked out of the heat into the air-conditioned Brighton Museum & Art Gallery which has free admission but was very entertaining, worth every penny.
We had dinner reservations at Terre a Terre, a vegetarian restaurant recommended as the best in the country. From their website:
Forget everything you have ever read or heard about vegetarian food. Forget everything you have ever eaten at vegetarian restaurants. Dining at Terre à Terre is a culinary experience like no other, with intense flavours, sublime textures and a combination of ingredients that few have the imagination or daring to put together.
The food was great, all components works of art, and definitely the best vegetarian we’ve eaten. My dish was Hot Parmesan Dumpling, with Beetroot Chevre Battenberg served with green olive and fresh leaf smash, brunoise of pumpkin and cumin crecy, lentilles de lait, merlot soft sticky onions and rosemary rub. Sounds pretty good right? Lots of supremely rich flavours, the kind I could treat myself to once a year.
Matt had Terre à Tapas a selection of lovelies, hot & cold, served with garlic & herb focaccia (large enough for one hungry person or two to share). The Tapas samplers were beautiful, but not large enough to keep him from ordering dessert.
All that and we were home around 8:30pm, exhausted and crispy.
31 May 06 Barcelona photo album
Yes, the album is uploaded and overflowing with photos of Barcelona’s greatest attraction, the architectural genius of Gaudi!
21 May 06 Barcelona
Last week I returned from a quick four-day trip to Barcelona to meet up with my Vancouver (now Prince George) friend Jen Hawke and her mom. They spent nearly three weeks on their travels, spending most time in Barcelona and Paris. Both were kind enough to share with me their lovely, comfy room at Hostal Palacios in the city center.
Unfortunately before I arrived, Jen had her purse stolen while eating at a restaurant. Barcelona is apparently notorious for this kind of theft and of course tourists make perfect targets, no matter how careful you are (and she was). By the time I arrived her spirit was up though, and she got on marvelously with enjoying the trip.
At the outset, aside from the language, Barcelona didn’t seem so different from Paris. I did my best to speak the bits of Spanish I practiced on the flight over and I’m keen to get on with learning it for my next visit to Spain!
The afternoon I arrived Jen and I sat on a patio on the Rambla (a busy tourist street) and sipped the most enormous Sangrias you could imagine - 2 litres of watered-down fruit punch with an inch of sugar settled at the bottom of the glass. We did feel a little tipsy afterward, but that was likely just a king-sized sugar high! The street we were on is lined with market stalls selling unusual wares: rabbits, ferrets, mice, birds, turkeys… caged critters up for grabs to anyone with euros in hand. Strange indeed.
By far the top highlight in Barcelona that we encountered is touring the architectural design works of Antoni Gaudi. All in one day we visited Casa Batllo, Parc Guell, and Sagrada Familia, which is still under construction after more than 120 years! It was a fascinating, fantastic experience to wander through the world of such an incredibly unique artist, and entirely on its own worth the trip to Barcelona.
The gothic quarter is made up of a maze of narrow streets now gaping with trendy shops. We wandered often through that area, we dined on some delicious Catalonian home-style cooking and tapas and did some shopping (which for me was entirely window). I continued my ‘foreign city haircut effort’ and let the hipster stylist at La Pelu have his way, resulting in a tamer version of what Jen and I termed the “Barcelona Mullet”. It’s working out quite well :)
One morning we wall ventured by train to Figueres to visit the Salvador Dali museum, which presented the opportunity to soak in some ‘country’ landscape and experience a smaller town. We were glad to make the trip, but I think many paintings I wished to see are actually located in Florida of all places.
Since returning I had to photograph a theme project for my Street Photography workshop at Tate Modern, which finished yesterday. The theme I chose was “Lunch” and you can view the photos in this slideshow (on flickr). The consensus of others in the workshop was that I’ve got plenty of nerve taking close shots of strangers in public. Some days that’s true…
25 Apr 06 Got me some Flamborough flu
I wound down after returning from York only to be dragged low by a nasty flu! I’m quite certain I caught it it Flamborough, but laying blame is pointless since I’m nearly free from its grip.
So what about York… what about Flamborough? Well first off, four days would have been enough to accommodate my planned adventures, but I stayed for five. I could have spent the extra time occupying myself with a visit to the Jorvik Viking Centre (seemed too kid-centric) or the National Railway Museum (too enormous to contemplate), but I didn’t.
Some highlights of what I did do in York:
- - Stayed at a clean and respectable ‘inn’, which translates to ‘pub with rooms’
- - Admired the unique medieval architecture around the city, including the Shambles
- - Wandered the inside of Clifford’s Tower
- - Walked a good distance south along the River Ouse
- - Marveled at the interior of the incredible York Minster (especially the ridiculously intricate carved seats in Choir)
- - Toured Barley Hall and discussed a large-scale tapestry project
- - Walked the entirety of the city walls
- - Visited a few pubs, some 400 years old, and enjoyed some live music
As I mentioned previously, I had plans for a day outing to Flamborough which was truly the best part of my trip. I spent roughly three hours on the train (return) traveling from York to Scarborough to Bridlington and back to York.
My purpose in Scarborough was to see the castle, which I was concerned about finding since I had no map or information with me. About twenty paces out of the train station though, I guessed the enormous seaside cliff surrounded with stone walls and ruins (about a mile away) was where I was headed!
After an hour or so exploring the castle grounds, I boarded the train for Bridlington. The town is obviously a summer tourist destination with a seaside fair with rides and midway games, but most striking was the enormous span of white sandy beach. I walked a couple of miles north following the beach, over grassy clifftops to the Flamborough trailhead. The trail winds over farmland, up and down steps built into cliffs leading to spots of beach. I trekked about 6 1/2 miles further with the North Sea to the right of me and chalk formations as far as I could see. The tail-end of the walk got a tad treacherous as winds picked up enough to keep me a safe distance from the cliff edges, then a light rain began to fall (hello flu).
I cut inland from the coast and down the only road in sight which lead me to the tiny, near deserted, town of Flamborough. I did manage to find a reasonably welcoming pub though, had a refreshment then boarded a bus back to Bridlington for the train back to York.
Amazingly, though Yorkshire is only two hours by train from London, the accents are significantly different than Londoners - thicker and more sprawling. At times I was clueless to what people were talking about. I would like to see more of Yorkshire in the future though, specifically further inland in the Dales.
More photos coming soon, of course…
9 Apr 06 Morning with Tate
This morning we visited Tate Modern to see the Albers and Moholy-Nagy exhibition From Bauhaus to the New World. Peruse the exhibition room guide, and it’s almost like being there… well not really, but a good number of the pieces are represented in (poor quiality) photos in the order they are displayed. There are no images, however, of two of my favourites from the show - two posters by Moholy-Nagy, this one for London Underground:
and this one for Imperial Airways:
We also recently saw the Martin Kippenberger exhibit - Room Guide - which holds a large selection of drawings he did on hotel stationery.
Back in February we bought a ‘Member and Guest” membership that gives us access to all paid exhibitions at both Tate Britain and Tate Modern, so the plan is to attend as many shows as possible. It doesn’t take many visits before the membership pays for itself, especially if you want to return to the same exhibition. You also receive advance mailings of a bi-monthly guide to what’s on and a quarterly glossy magazine full of arty analysis…
At Tate Britain, Gothic Nighmares: Fuseli, Blake and the Romantic Imagination is on until May 1st, and there’s certainly enough memorable material there to cause nasty dreams. I have yet to see the Tate Triennial 2006 showcase of New British Art.
Today I signed up for a Street Photography workshop taking place over two Saturday mornings in May at Tate Modern. It’s in collaboration with iN-PUBLiC, an excellent website promoting the art of street photography and work by a selection of current photographers. I’m quite excited for the workshop as I need some new inspiration!
Some natural, outdoor inspiration is upcoming though. In the morning I’m off to visit York until Friday, with at least one day trip planned to Bridlington for a seaside walk on the cliffs to Flamborough Head and perhaps as far as Bempton Cliffs. Check out this guy David Cotton who has walked 6200 miles of UK coastline! Amazing.
29 Mar 06 The Paris Chronicles
We’ve been home more than a week and I’m just getting to writing all about it (excessively I should add)… Have spent some time choosing photos and editing for an album which will be ready and posted shortly as well. Like this shot of the Eiffel Tower? It’s shot from across the Seine at the Trocadero.
Thursday
Matt and I met up at Waterloo station to catch the 7:45 Eurostar - the train has about 30 cars and was about 3/4 full. “Ladies and Genkelmen, welcome aboard the Eurostar to Parisse,” said the announcer. I like that word ‘genkelmen’, it makes me smile. We had probably the worst seats on the car which weren’t really bad at all except for the lack of leg room and poor position to look out a window. It was dark already so no problem, but I was convinced this was the quality of seats you get when booking a short break deal at lastminute.com. Overall a very easy 2:40 train journey, though when entering the Channel Tunnel, you definitely feel the pressure change and ear-popping ensues.
At Gare du Nord we queued for a taxi to the hotel. Our driver spoke little English, but between showing him the address we were headed to and pointing it out on his map, he worked out the route. Even in the dark I noticed the city appeared quite hazy with fog, pollution? Shortly into the drive we passed into a tunnel when I flashed back and thought I had seen it before… and thought this was where Princess Diana had died. Then the driver asked, “You know Lady Di?” and I felt a little tingle, nodded, and he said what I expected. “This where the crash.”
With a bit of trouble we found the hotel (the signage had a different name than what we booked), paid 15 euros for the ride and checked in. The antique room key came attached to a heavy, brassy brick thing - not the kind of key you tote around the city, but leave at the front desk instead. The room was quite large by what we heard is Paris standard, the bathroom clean and tiled with marble and a comfy bed with white linens. Double doors opened onto the French balcony (ie. one too small to sit on). The quirky wallpaper had foam backing that you’d bounce right off should you take a tumble.
Friday
We started the day consuming the inclusive breakfeast, a buffet spread with croissants, scrambled eggs, ham, cheese, cereals, fruit salad, yoghurt and juice. Oh and tiny wieners! Our game-plan for the day was to visit the Louvre, and when we stepped out the hotel there was a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower on the other side of the Seine. We walked down the Champs Elysees, a broad street lined with mostly high-end shops, past the Arc de Triomphe and followed our map a couple km to the Louvre. Definitely too enormous to view in even a few days I think, we narrowed our focus and planned to see all the paintings (spread over two wings) and the Islamic Art wing, and chose to split the day by crossing the Seine for lunch at Cafe Voltaire.
This marked the first occasion I was laughed at for speaking feeble French! I ordered the terrine de poisson lunch special, which sent the woman at the next table into uncontrollable laughter. Her man-date said, “You mean the terrrrine!” excessively rolling the r’s. “You do not want to eat a tarine!” I can only guess he was attempting to rescue me from ordering hideous excrement for lunch :) The meal was delicious, and to get out of our corner seats after involved the hostess elaborately rearranging the furniture and other diners. No humble or graceful exit allowed.
After the Louvre we wandered the (touristy) area and found an American bookstore, Brentanos, and purchased the Everyman Paris guide and an Instant French book in an effort to prevent further communication difficulties! We sat in a funky brasserie around the corner that had long strips of film hanging from the lights, opened the Paris guide and discovered it was written in Spanish! We went back and exchanged it for an English one.
I now realize how easily Canadian travelers abroad are mistaken for Americans. We speak generally with the same accent, and Canadians make up only 10% of the potential North American population of travelers. Our genuine attempt to speak any French we could was well-received though, so it worked in our favour and we were treated well overall.
The weather was lovely, sunny and warm, so we strolled along the bank of the Seine, toward the Trocadero and back to the hotel for a rest. Our room overlooked Rue des Belles Feuilles (’Beautiful Sheets’), a street with a number of amazing food markets individually selling bread, seafood, meats and sausage, cheese, olives, wine, pastries… It would be wonderful to have access to shops like this in our neighbourhood in London! One patisserie in particular, Paul, was ubiquitous in Paris and there happens to be one in Covent Garden where we’ve enjoyed a treat on occasion.
Saturday
On a mission to shop, we checked out Victor Hugo street where I discovered Promod! Some of you know I’m a picky shopper and tend not to spend (’splash out’ for the Brits) much on clothing. When I do find a shop I like, I usually stick with it - Promod would be one of those few but there are no stores in the UK :( You can purchase online however, but prices are higher than when you walk in and pay euro prices. I managed to find two great tops, a jacket and bracelet there.
Later we walked to the Eiffel Tower intending to take the elevator to the top, but lineups were just silly so we skipped it. Next up was the Rodin Museum which turned out to be a highlight of the trip. Previously unfamiliar with how prolific a sculptor Rodin was, I also had no idea how romantic and expressive his pieces are. Add that the museum is set in an enormous house where Rodin lived and worked, and in the surrounding gardens, and the result was an absolutely wonderful, sunny afternoon art experience.
We ventured to Les Halles, apparently the biggest shopping mall in central Paris, but found little to stimulate the opening of the wallet. Several stores were the same as what you find in London, or in any mall anywhere for that matter.
In the evening we ate at a Lebanese restaurant, Noura, which was recommended in the guidebook. Most menu prices in Paris include tax and service gratuity, so they seem overblown high. And spending GBP is far more gratifying than spending CDN or USD would be, since the £ exchanged to 1.44 EUR. The Noura waiter chuckled when I meant to order une verre du vin (a glass of wine) but instead ordered une glass du verre (which, pitifully, sounds like I ordered an ‘ice of glass’).
Then we did the jazz thing, first checking out a lounge called Salty Kiss (in French) but ending up at Duc des Lombards - a red-velvet and mirrors, ground level spot with close seating and a tiny stage. Somehow they fit three guitars, drums, double bass and a piano though, and we enjoyed some excellent improv over the next few hours. Had to run down Rue de Rivoli to catch the last metro back to the hotel.
Sunday
We boarded a sightseeing boat to catch a lift down the Seine from the Eiffel Tower down to see the Notre Dame Cathedral. From the boat we had terrific views of the river banks, watching people liesurely strolling, rollerblading and walking dogs. The Notre Dame has some mighty fine buttresses and the northern exterior of the building is spotted with evil, jutting gargoyles - many with heads busted off. Inside Sunday mass was taking place, pews were entirely full and throngs of tourists rambled around the perimeter, gasping at the beautiful stained glass and architecture.
The Picasso Museum was next on the agenda - it apparently holds the largest collection of his works but the museum is relatively small, so exhibitions must rotate rather frequently. This visit offered an entire floor dedicated to his muse Dora Maar, which showcased an incredible range in style of his work. Dora Maar was a photographer, and many of her portraits of Picasso were displayed too. The museum is in The Marais district, an area stuffed with shops and restaurants, so we wandered… We tracked down lunch at Boulangerie Patisserie Heurtier, indulging in some richly cheesy, decadent yummies which we ate on a bench in the square out front.
We had some afternoon entertainment in mind which involved a substantial walk, so decided to reference the map for diversions along the way. Place des Vosges is a beautiful square park bordered by historic buildings. A small orchestra had assembled to play under one of the building archways. A fair distance northeast was Canal Saint-Martin where coincidentally a tour boat was approaching to pass through the locks. This is an extensive process that we watched part of, but I think I’d lose patience fast if I had been sitting on that boat waiting to pass through!
The entertainment we were after was to take in some ‘chanson’ (French word for ’song’). Event listings we looked at confused us as to what chanson really is… Some events had music, others spoken-word performances and others stated anything goes, so we figured chanson meant ‘variety show’, or ‘open-mike’. Still not sure on that, but we patronized a hole-in-the-wall spot called Chez Adele to check out some chanson! This chez was dripping with wood-paneled character and Adele himself stood the bar with a wall covered with family photos behind him. Pine cones strung from the ceiling, tiki dolls and giant Greco statues contributed their part to the decor - a true find this place. And oh, the chanson: a gypsy-style familial group sang traditional French folk songs, playing accordian, clarinet and guitar. A true Parisian experience :)
Down the road I have to note we checked out a high-end kids shop, and the music playing was a kind of Mini Pops version of the AC/DC classic Highway to Hell. Surreal!
Dinner offered more adventure - we ate at the canteen-style Boullion Chartier, a gorgeous mirrored dining hall with an eclectic mix of patrons. A fella beside us ordered steak tartare, mushing it with a selection of condiments until it resembled dog food. The Japanese girls on the other side of him cast similar glances at his plate as we did, but he happily chewed it down and wished us all “bon soir” before he left.
Monday
Sunday and Monday in Paris many shops, restaurants and attractions are closed, with Monday being particularly quiet. We managed to entertain ourselves primarily with walking and discovering culture on the streets, and had a tasty sandwich in the Latin Quarter.
It’s true that in Paris dogs are like kings. They crap everywhere on the sidewalks and their owners don’t pick it up (with the exception of one rogue we saw). Much walking time must be spent dodging the loads and smears, but inevitably you will feel that dreaded slippery squish under your shoe and will have to waste minutes cursing, groaning and scraping away at the curb.
In the afternoon I had my hair cut by a guy who spoke three or four words in English, but the result was fine enough - he was all about the blow!
By the end of the trip we were absolutely beat from trekking the city as much as possible in four days. My heel tendon even hurt - lots! And the Louvre alone could kill. We had enough energy to take the metro to Gare du Nord instead of a taxi though, which was probably a better rush-hour choice.
And we were thrilled to come home - as you tend to feel after traveling. Home to London!
Okay, kudos to you if you made it this far :)
GET FED: 