First day of exploring...

First priority... Boulangerie..found a great one around the corner, armed with baguette traditionnelle and croissant, we are in business

Second priority... work out where we are and what shops are open.   Many have the sign ..." congé annuel".  They clearly won't be open again till the end of August

Love to see the familiar signs though.. Restaurant non-stop and of course to drink une Noisette



Ah, well we find the Office de Tourisme and buy a Carte de Nantes which gives us free public transport, river trips and entrance to lots of museums.

We visit the Chateau Des Ducs de Btretagne and discover a fantastic exhibition on the Vikings... ridiculous as we have just left Iceland with all its history of the Norse people and instead of finding out about French history, we immerse ourselves in the Vikings once more!!

Next stop, a walk around town, dejeuner ... and a relaxing boat trip down the Loire.  Well should have been relaxing but we had an over zealous tour guide who just could not stop speaking!!!!

Got us thinking though about renting a boat to stay... we have done it before in Avignon and Lyon... maybe next year.

Nantes

The river is deep brown but as the tide changes it turns to milky green.  Across the river we see a mechanical elephant spraying water.   We have no idea what it is.  We do a quick shop at local convenience store only to find a huge Carrefour around the corner!  Still with food for dinner and breakfast we are fine.

The apartment is gorgeous,  full of books, jazz and views to everywhere.  The trams clank and the traffic roars but double glazing blocks it out.. we are exhausted and by 9.30 even though the sun is still shining we are to bed...

 With amazing views...

We watched a cruise ship load up its cargo of passengers!

 Yay! My own desk to start writing again... can't wait!

It's not Chartres... well it is actually.

So... Chartres does have a wonderful Cathedral...But we had the wrong Chartres... Fantastic though.  great hosts.   Fab breakfast and then we were on our way to the real Chartres and Nantes.

Love the light in France.

 Tapestries in our room

Breakfast

Friendly creatures in our room

The real Chartres, still not sure who I remember from schooldays.. Jean d'Arc?, Charles?  Someone!

Eurostar... Eurowonderful

Love Eurostar... so easy.  two hours we are in Paris, have picked up a car and are on the way to Chartres.  Which I remember as a city with a cathedral and have a vague memory of someone famous being crowned there.  I think it is a 150 or so km from Paris and so I am surprised when the sat nav quickly dumps us in a little village outside a B & B that is flanked by cornfields.  Mmmm... too tired to care.

I ring the bell ... It's late 10.30pm ... dogs bark, but a friendly woman comes to the locked gate.  'Bonjour".

"Nous sommes les Dawsons, nous avons une réservation"

'Ah oui entrer.' Dogs circle.  We walk past tapestries and armour up stairs to a glorious room with an exquiste bathroom

Five minutes later we have a glass of wine and our 'pique-nique' in our 'medieval room.'

By midnight we are asleep in our 'bed of knights'... who knows what tomorrow will bring!

Iceland to La Belle France

Arrived from Iceland to a stifling day in London. Overnight in  Paddington - great location, could walk up to Marble Arch but of course a stuffy little room. Love the buzz of London though.

Love how close you are to EVERYTHING in London... the art galleries, theatre etc. and of course the street art.

However, we have one day to do laundry after 10 days travelling.  Find a laundrette with a pub opposite and drink Pimms and then dinner in a fantastic Malaysian Restaurant.  Loved all those spices after Iceland. 

A second warning "DO NOT EAT FERMENTED SHARK" fish that has been buried in the soil to get rid of poison is truly not worth eating, ha! ha!

Rhodes to Iceland

Rhodes 18 July 2018

Rhodes airport, 38 degrees, check in a nightmare and now we are sitting on the tarmac waiting.  All passengers onboard. Planes taking off all around us.  BUT we just wait. 15, 20, 25 minutes after our take off time. The captain announces, “All BA planes, across the world are grounded”

We look at each other thinking, it must be another terrorist attack.

He continues calmly... ‘The computer at Healthrow is down and they are not answering their  phone. (Hey I wouldn't answer the phone either).

Two hours later the problem is solved and we set off. We arrive in London at 1.00am. We have booked a “Kabee” ride to meet us, but expect that he has taken off hours ago… No here is a text message.  A red Citroen is approaching.  I call.  ‘Where are you?’ We both ask at once.  A small effervescent man pops up and within minutes has us up the lift, into the parking area and into his car.   We are off to our Easy hotel.  

Chatty and friendly our driver is entertaining until he tells us how much he admires Trump because he is not corrupt.  His voice increases in pitch and volume as he tells us about his relations in Afganistan who have been killed.  I curl my arms around my head and try to go to sleep.

The hotel is miles away… it isn’t until 2.00 am that we arrive.

Its modern, orange, modular and I can’t wait to get into the clean white double bed…..to sleep…..I wake at 4.00 am yelling.  ‘The alarm didn’t go off’, only to realise the alarm is set for 5.00!  I fall into a heavy sleep.  At 5.00 am I’m shot into reality by the sound of the alarm. Quick pack, teeth, toilet, run. 

 The booked cab is not there.  I check with the guy at reception.  It’s on its way.  A car sleers into the carpark, stereo blazing.  Door open and kids tumble out.  Drunk.  Happy. Threatening. 

A slim, cocky, black guy glides across the carpark while a pubescent white girl drapes herself across the boot.  Another guy leaps out mixing some lethal cocktail into a plastic bottle.  A rounded black girl sashays her way towards her man and the booze.

A buzz and a click and the young black guy is into the hotel.  25 pounds for a room with no windows.  A beige middle-aged women exits the hotel, trailing her wheelie bag behind her.

Thank goodness a big black cab roars into the carpark.  A guy leaps out.  ‘Room 17?’ 

‘No room 2 to Terminal 5 Gatwick’ I answer.   He says nothing but just slings our bags into the back of the car.

The beige woman trails back across the carpark and as we leave and I wonder if we’ve unintentionally taken her ride.  No time to think as we race towards the airport.. and then we are there. .. bags out and into the maelstrom of customs, by 7.00 we are having a very mediocre breakfast costing $54 in Gordon Ramsey’s.  Onto the plane and 2hrs later we’re on our way to Reykavik.. 

Rekyjavik 19 July 2018

Rekyjavik 19 July 2018

We arrive to the usual chaos of taxis and buses.  We book the airport shuttle “direct to your accommodation” but find we have to change buses and then walk the rest of the way.  At $35 each this doesn’t seem much value for service.  I quickly learn that Icelanders don’t know how to smile or give information voluntarily, but they do know how to charge a motes. 

After a confusion of buses we find ourselves on our way through a lava and rock bordered highway. Colourful houses, technic colour green highlighted by the sun and blue sky.

Where to now?  The directions are not clear.    We wander past a concrete church with impressive pillars.  I’m sure I have read about it in Sagalands. 

I’m keen to get a cab but a waiter in a funky little café tells us to turn left and then right and left again… we try to follow but soon realise we should have just turned right, right and left, the opposite of what he told us.  Thankfully we find our place. Colourful building next to a restaurant..

We enter the code… great it works.  We open the cupboard under the stairs where we are to store our luggage and find some sort of construction is happening.  I call the owner Stefan.  ‘I’m here he says and comes thumping down the stairs.’  

‘Ok’ he says, ‘sorry everything’s changed.. You can come in your room now.  We try to get the key from the keybox.  ‘Oh yes,’ he says ‘the code has changed.  Lucky I was here hey?’  

We settle in.  The apartment is small but really well appointed. It even has a balcony.  We look over and see the house opposite has a grass roofed garage and lovely garden.  Our garden however looks like a demolition crew have been in.

We put on sweaters, scarves and coats and head for the city.  We stop and get fish and chips from a stall and eat them next to the “pond” where ducks and seagulls fight noisily for any scraps.   I think I would have enjoyed them even more if I had realised that one serve cost us $35!  




The walk to the harbour is interesting with lots of quirky houses.

We cast our eye out for a cruise ship called the Panorama.  No sign of it, but we do find the Harpa Building, a modern cavernous building made of angled glass.  Huge windows thrust into the harbour.  

A mound of rich green captures our attention and we watch people walk up in a clockwise arc.  Ancient monument we think.  We walk it later and find it is an art installation with a small cabin at the top which houses dried fish!  Love how it celebrates the history of this place.

We sit and watch the rain and an incredible video of how the Harpa was built against the odds of the GFC and ferocious weather.  There is a lunchtime concert tomorrow - we buy tickets, even if it isn't any good it will protect us from the rain.

 We buy wine and retreat to our lovely apartment.  The rain stops, the sun comes out, we drink champagne on our verandah and relish the sunlight. Of course we could do this until 11.30pm, but the sun would be up again at 3.15!

Rekyavik 20 July 2018

Rekyavik 20 July 2018

Next day we are woken by jack hammers, dust and rain.   We meet Stefan who assures us that he knew nothing about it but the noise would stop, shortly.  We go walking through the town.  Lovely little streets run parallel to the harbour.   Lots of bars, and restaurants.  We can’t believe how expensive everything is.  A cute tea cosy shaped like a viking helmet (I know why would I be interested?) $45!

We visit the church. An incredible structure.   So plain but grand inside.  Yay! Choral works but not while we are here.  The bain of every traveller’s life!

We walk down to the harbour bracing ourselves against the cold and rain.  still our ship is nowhere to be seen.  We pass small café’s selling fisk soup and adventure tours.  We ask at one of the little stalls if they have seen the ship the Panorama.  And then we see it.  A white sailing ship.  Sailing ship?   How did we miss that?   We booked a sailing ship in Iceland!  Really? 

People are just disembarking.  They look glum.   The crew though are smiling and friendly.  I ask them if we can drop our luggage early the next morning.  No problems they say… Bag problem solved.

Locals build temporary sculptures along the "beach" great fun for kids and everyone.

At the Harpa  Ari Þór Vilhjálmsson  and Nina Margret Grimsdottir put on a superb performance.    The small audience is scattered at the front of the imposing red and black hall.  The woman’s heels clatter across the stage emphasising the emptiness of the huge stage.  

We start with Beethoven and finish with a composition by Sveinbjörn Sveinbjörnsson,  an Icelandic composer - I know I had never heard of him either .  He composed the Icelandic National Anthem.   By the way do you know the anthem voted the best... very funny on Google.  I wonder what you would choose.   I know they are all awful, but I do like this one.

As we walk through Reykjavik we see some incredible sculptures and street art.

But back at our apartment, the noise is shattering and all of our things are coated in dust.  We try to contact Stefan.   He doesn’t answer his phone.  It is raining and cold. We try the restaurant they call him, and he says he will be back in 15 minutes… we wait.   We can’t stay in the apartment.  But we spend the whole day calling  him… no reply.  We book into another hotel.   As we are leaving – I go to the restaurant and he is there.   He is the chef.  I demand to see him.

Finally, he agrees to repay the money but is totally smug and unrepentant! 'You are NOT my priority' he smirks.

Off in a cab to a new hotel apartment which is is lovely.  It’s still raining.

Rekyjavik 21 July 2018

Rekyjavik 21 July 2018

A very expensive cab to the Pan Orama where we are greeted by smiling crew who whisk our bags on board. We can either leap across the wide gap onto the boat or climb the steep, steep gangplank.   We decide on the later.

We are met by two Indonesian waitresses who serve us cold juices and introduce us to Jura our guide who has been living in Iceland for 16 years. 

Our cabin is ready. Really nice, but hot, hot, hot. 

We meet the captain who is jovial but can only talk about ‘Abandon Ship’ .  He warns us that the weather is going to be rough.  We swallow down our seasickness pills.  

We are surprised at the number of Australians who are visiting Iceland because of a previous trip to Antarctica.  

After the ‘briefing session its time for the Captain’s welcome cocktail party.  Caviar, meatballs on sticks etc .  We have the usual intense, animated party conversations that is usual on these occasions.  

Then dinner which is  huge. Prawns, followed by potato and leek soup, followed by an a la carte main meal plus desert.  We watch the Captain as he relishes his food and wine and wonder if we are going to survive this trip!

Rekyjavik 22 July 2018

Rekyjavik 22 July 2018

The general feeling on board, including ourselves is that we would love to be on our way, but the schedule is for an evening and day in Reykjavik so we all make the best of it. The rain has eased, and we opt to go on the walking tour with Jura and Karl.  Even though we have walked the city it is good to do it as a guided tour.  

I love the women’s walk that celebrates the achievements of women. At the church, we shiver under umbrellas as Jura tells us the history.  It feels to me as if the architect got it perfectly right. Strong columns thrusting against the wind and sky.

We brace ourselves and walk back to the harbour.  Huge tower blocks now line the shore.  I ask if the population is growing.   ‘Oh no’ is the reply, ‘these are for the tourists.’

We hope to book another lunchtime concert.  Its billed as being Mendelssohn … not my favourite especially after the Royal Albert Hall, but we discover it is the same program that we heard yesterday. 

We battle through the wind and rain to the Museum of Settlement.   It was spectacular.  What a chequered history Iceland has had.  What a battle to survive the elements, starvation not forgetting of course the odd axe in the back of the head.

Satiated by facts we made our way to the thermal pool where we hope to  warm up.  First is the ritual shower where every nook and cranny of the body is scrubbed. People strip off exposing bodies of every shape and size.  Hysterectomy scars abound but I am the only one with the marks of a mastectomy.  People give a cursory glance but everyone is more concerned with getting in or out of the pool.

The moment has come.  I step out of the door with only my swimming costume as protection.  I gasp as the cold air and rain hits my body.  Quick as a flash into the warm swimming pool.  As I swim the lap I look longingly at the hot thermal pool where people laugh and chat convivially.  (The only place I have seen this happen in Iceland.)

The end of the lap and a sprint to the tub and I sink gratefully into 42 degree  water.  Every few minutes ducking my head underneath heat up my ears, nose and head. 

I see the locals putting their arms, legs and back in front of the pulsating water spouts, they tell me it is good for aches and pains.   I give it a try and it is wonderful.  My next problem is getting out.  The path to the dressing room stretches ahead of me.  I can’t put it off any longer.  I sprint across (didn’t know I could still do that) and into the dressing rooms.  Amazingly my whole body is glowing.  I soap up and shower once more.  Dressed in sweater, fleece, puffer jacket, hat, scarf I pop my swimmers into the spinner and then off down through the town.  The wind, rain and cold abated by my inner warmth… now I know why it is the most popular pastime.

Back on board just in time for dinner… delicious.. Everyone is keen to sail and relieved to see that the Captain has declined any wine this evening.  We listen to his report.  We are not assured.  This boat he tells us is built for the Mediterranean not Iceland.  Tonight will be rough.  Very rough.  In three days time it will be even worse.  We all dive for the seasickness tablets.   He is not wrong.

This night is the WORST sailing night on board.  We wallow and roll from side to side, expecting to be thrown to the floor at any second.

Rhodes

As usual got totally behind in my blog and so have left space to fill in later... ever the optimist!

Hitting the big City

vcbvcmvb

Kyoto

Hi from the Kyoto tower...

Loved this temple but looking forward to visiting a small local temple with Atsuko in Tokyo