Canadian Rockies

We bade a fond farewell to the U S of A and flew up to the Rockies (Adrian!). We’re at Banff, after a brief orientation stop in Calgary. We’re now back to ordering two mains at restaurants instead of sharing one, as was the practice south of the border.

We’re staying at the Banff Springs resort, which is an immense stone mansion set above the Bow River, built around 100 years ago with incredible vision and what must have been an enormous investment. It’s meant to look like a Scottish castle, but actually looks eerily like Colditz just missing the barbed wire and machine gun sentry posts. The setting is spectacular with the icy mountains framing the brooding sky as white and grey clouds shoot past. The grey blue river below rumbles along at incredible speed including a very impressive rapids section that is confusingly called Bow Falls.

We’re on a quick fire coach tour, so after two nights in Banff, we were off again to Lake Louise. We arrived in the late afternoon and suddenly found that the rain had ceased so we rushed out to walk to the other end of this beautiful lake. After 20 minutes, the rain returned and we got thoroughly soaked but still managed to have fun. We have had all weathers since we arrived in Canada; drizzle, light rain, and heavy rain.

The longest part of our tour took us from Lake Louise to Jasper, and included the Columbia Ice Field Experience. We’ve heard the word ‘Awesome’ a lot on our travels, and here the scenery really merits the adjective. The colossal Rocky Mountains are framed by rushing rivers, cold still lakes and endless forests. The pine trees are surprisingly scraggy, with narrow trunks and short, stubby branches. Thus is apparently due to the poor soil, altitude and short growing season. They are packed incredibly tightly, like matches in a box, huddled together against the cold. The are very hardy though and manage to exist quite a long way up the stone cliffs of the giant mountains, sometimes turning them into enormous, stony old men with dark green beards. We were fortunate to see black and grizzly bears along the side of the road, rummaging around for food so best seen when inside the coach. Although we have learned the procedure for meeting a bear that includes making yourself look big and playing dead, and don’t put honey in your hair!

The ‘Ice Experience’ included a trip out onto the Athabasca Glacier in a purpose built snow coach with enormous tires. The permanent ice field sits on top of numerous mountains covering 325 square kilometers, which is larger than the whole of Vancouver. It is so deep in parts that the Eiffel tower could be buried in it standing up. Glaciers slide outwards into the valleys along its edges, and the melt water feeds three great rivers. The Snow Dome Mountain, standing 3,456m on the continental divide uniquely feeds its melt water into three oceans, the Pacific, Atlantic and Arctic.

Shortly after we arrived in Canada, the Stanley Cup Final took place for Ice Hockey. Vancouver lost to Boston and this sparked riots in the streets of Vancouver. A couple of cars were turned over and set alight. In the aftermath, the there has been much hand wringing and self-flagellation here with the shame of it all. Calm down Canada, it’s just a typical Saturday night out in any British town.

Magical Mystery Tour - Part 2

We found our way back to the coast to Cannon Beach, so named after a cannon that was found there in 1846. I’m assuming it was the military rather than the religious kind, but there was no more information. The Beach is spectacular, wide and very long, its 4 mile stretch punctuated by large rocks along the shoreline. Chief among the rocks is Giant Haystacks. Wasn’t there a wrestler in the 70’s called Giant Haystacks, along with Big (don’t call me Shirley) Daddy? This Haystacks is home to numerous seabirds including a colony of puffins from April until July. The beach is a great playground for walking, running, cycling, and flying kites which is particularly popular. The small adjoining town is entirely given over tourism with the usual array of gift shops, antiques, cafes, restaurants and motels. We arrived on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. (How can a day be a weekend?) The place was, if not exactly buzzing, then at least alive with holidaymakers. We walked over to Haystacks and sat on one of the washed up tree trunks to witness the sun dipping slowly over the horizon on its way to Australia. Refreshingly, there’s an absence of beach rules with no signs listing all the activities that are ‘not allowed’. Anything goes here, apparently, including lighting fires on the beach that illuminated our way back home.

The town’s population plunged after the holiday, and we found ourselves wandering the coast largely unaccompanied. We found a pretty coastal trek in the nearby Ecola state park that took us upwards through a dense forest of old growth Sitka spruce and western hemlock trees to a lookout point facing the Tillamook Rock lighthouse.

We left Cannon Beach and Oregon for Washington, entering the green state via a scenic drive North East, crossing the mighty Columbia River at Astoria over an impressive road bridge. So we’re finally in Washington, our last stop in the US before Canada. We were both looking forward to seeing Capitol Hill and the Whitehouse, but decided first to stay on the Hood Canal near the tiny town of Brinnon. The canal looks more like a mighty river at least a mile wide. In fact, its neither river or canal, but a narrow sea inlet. We splashed out and stayed at a cottage right on the water with private beach loaded with oysters and clams.

I hired us a couple of Kayaks in a moment of madness and soon we were cruising the ‘canal’ like Steve Redgrave. The water is mostly very calm here resembling a giant sheet of cling film. Needless to say, after 5 minutes on the water, the wind picked up from nowhere creating white crested waves, and we were soon swallowing sea water and frantically bailing out water with the handily supplied ‘absorbent’ sponge.

We were more fortunate on our next outing and had a wonderful hour among the spectacular scenery and wildlife. We had an inquisitive sea otter check us out, and watched as a pair of eagles fished the water nearby. We reluctantly headed back in when I noticed a strange burning sensation in my arms. Took me a while to realize that it was my muscles complaining – not been used in a while.

I had a round of golf in Oregon at the Gearhart links. I took a chance on the weather and lost, rain from start to finish so I ended up cold and soaked through which meant by the next day I’d completely seized up. You know you’re getting old when to get dressed in the morning you have to lay your undies carefully on the floor, get both feet into the two holes, and then carefully pull them up without bending. Ouch!

Magical Mystery Tour - Part 1

We drifted north up the coast and stayed in Mendocino for 2 nights, a small town more reminiscent of New England in its buildings than California. Miss Marple was filmed here (well, Murder She Wrote actually.....). There’s a beautiful coastal walk skirting the cliffs through meadows of coastal wild flowers.

We continued north and stayed for a night in Requa Inn. On the way, we travelled through the Avenue of the Giants, which is a 33 mile road running through numerous groves of giant redwoods, which are the tallest trees in the word, over 300 feet (100 metres). The Inn is a little gem hidden away on the bank of the serene Klamath River, with mountain and forest views. We spent a leisurely afternoon in the garden reading in the swing seat, sipping Californian Pinot.

We finally left California for Oregon, the centre of herbs or, as the Americans like to say “urbs”. Our first stop was a small motel in Yachats which is a beautiful small town overlooking the river Yachats and the Ocean. There’s a great small fish restaurant run by a fisherman who supplies the produce from his own boat. Our motel had a panoramic view of yet another pristine beach. All the beaches we’ve seen have been beautifully preserved. There’s never any litter, or in the streets for that matter. And people actually pick up the mess from their dogs which is just as well, as there are just as many dogs as people.

We moved on and inland to Portland, Oregon’s largest city, although not the state capital, which is Salem. We walked into Pearl, which is nearby to our apartment and the adjoining Downtown district, to get the vibe of the city, but there was something missing – the streets were largely deserted. Where have all the people gone? It turns out that half of them are in Deschutes microbrewery and the other half are perpetually jogging, cycling or walking along the riverfront walkways boarding the Willamette. The natives do love their beer, so there are several microbreweries to choose from, all offering a large selection of ale. Lots of variety and all served ice cold and gassy, so almost a blend between Aussie and English beer.

It rained almost constantly during our stay, we may have been unlucky, but given that every store and restaurant has complimentary umbrella bags, I doubt it.

We’ve had occasion to visit a few supermarkets staying as we are in mostly self-catering accommodation. All the staff are just so friendly, polite and helpful. Quite a change from the surly UK check out chick. If you look slightly confused wandering the aisles, a member of staff is always there with a cheerful “How are you today? Is there anything I can help you with?” I usually reply with a panicked “No, I’m fine thanks” while thinking “Can’t you see I’m English. Please leave me alone.” At the checkout, while several staff pack your groceries and polish your shoes, the person ringing up the bill engages you in some uplifting conversation before sending you off with “Have a nice day!” Yesterday, I was asked how I was enjoying my stay in Oregon. After I’d said that we could do with a little bit more sunshine, I was cheerfully told that the locals didn’t bother checking the forecast here. Just expect rain every day and, if the sun shines, then it’s a nice surprise.

Sonoma

We tried to get into baseball while we were in San Francisco as we thought we might see a game as the local team was playing at home while we were there. First, we thought we would watch a game on TV to see if we liked it. The commentating is amazing, two guys pumping out a monotone endless stream of drivel: “Badowski on the plate Long Arm Lewis to pitch he’s got nine strikes versus southpaws this season Badowski on 0.28 near the all time top 10 for Badowskis batting on Wednesdays he’s going to need a 2 over 1 ball foreskin play minimum to beat that tonight” What’s it all about?

We had a few wine fuelled days in Sonoma, the slightly less famous wine district next to Napa, north of the bay. From what I can remember, we had a great time. We stayed in Sonoma town itself with has a large, pretty square in the centre surrounded by restaurants, shops and hotels. We had the best meal of our trip to date in a restaurant next door to our hotel called the Girl and Fig. Getting in was quite an adventure. We rocked up on Saturday night and the place was packed. There was no chance of a seat in the dining room but there was the option of eating in the fairly large bar area, if you could get a seat. They had no system for queuing so you had to pounce just as someone was leaving their seats. It was really quite funny to watch as everyone was trying to jockey into position close to the diners that looked ready to finish. One chap boldly moved in front of Mags eyeing up the spot Mags had been coveting for 10 mins. She had steam coming out of her ears as you can imagine. I though the guy would turn to stone with the look Mags had on her face, but fortunately for him he avoided her glare. Mags said, “I’m not having this” and proceeded to ask the diners if we could have their seats when they were finished. One was an Aussie and with a little banter the seats were ours – outstanding. Anyway, all worth waiting for. I had the pork and seafood stew and Mags went for duck breast, which were both superb.

To travel here, we picked up our convertible and, after 6 weeks of non-stop sunshine, the rain started at the very moment I was handed the keys. It hasn’t stopped yet but we didn’t let that get in the way of a good wine tour. We found a service where you get a driver to drive your car, which saves quite a bit, compared to hiring a limo and driver. We had a very knowledgeable chap called Rob who recommended some very good places and had complimentary tasting cards for most of them, so we saved there as well as most wineries charge for tastings. They do tend to give you a good glug so I think its fair enough. Most are boutique wine makers with a very small production and sell out through the cellar door so, if you want some, you have to visit and take it away as it doesn’t appear in supermarkets or wine shops. I think we did 5 wineries and bought loads of wine, which is now squeezed, into our very small boot (trunk).

Were now on the mystery part of our trip as we haven’t booked anything until we land in Canada, so were going to set off this morning heading roughly north and see what we find. Hopefully Oregon and then Washington unless things have changed recently.

San Francisco

San Francisco, so lets talk about bridges. We came in on Bay Bridge with doesn’t get much press because of Golden Gate, but is quite astonishing; over 4 miles in length in two spans connecting Oakland to San Francisco via Treasure island. Driving over is like flying.

We’re staying in a very swish flat on the 21st floor of a large apartment block next to the Ferry Building with a terrace overlooking said Bay Bridge. Excited to be back in the city, I think we may have overdone it a bit yesterday. After the 5 hour drive from Yosemite, we were in need of a little R&R so headed down to Fisherman’s Wharf (where else) where Mags selected a very fine Art Deco establishment on the Waterfront where we had roast crab overlooking Alcatraz across the bay, with the ferries chugging around and day sailors getting sea sick in the feisty wind. It was such a superb meal that we had to wash it down with plenty of Californian Chardonnay. We made our way slowly home via a few bars to check out the scene.

While we were here the football season ended with Man U winning again. C’est la vie – C’mon Barcelona.

Spent Tuesday trekking out to Sausalito, a very pretty suburb across the bay, which caused us to walk over the Golden Gate Bridge – quite an experience with views east across the rest of the bay, and west to the open ocean. Caught the ferry to Alcatraz on Wednesday morning. Well, it has to be done. Very interesting tour including a mandatory audio tour where we queued up in the shower block to receive our headphones with the helpful staff instructing us to press play for play and stop for stop. Not sure that’s entirely necessary, but keeps a few people employed anyway. The cells really are tiny and it must have been a grim existence as an inmate. Of the various escape attempts, only one was possibly successful. Three men dug themselves out and onto the roof, disguising their disappearance by leaving behind hand crafted dummy heads in their bunks. They were never seen again. Did they drown or hightail it to Mexico?

The Ferry Building close by is home to the largest farmers Market in the state, every Saturday. Unfortunately we missed it but there’s a smaller version on Thursdays where I managed to buy some organic veg. Mostly, we’ve been eating out as there’s thousands of places to choose from. Legend has it that there is a restaurant for every 28 Franciscans so the whole city could theoretically sit down for dinner at the same time. Although there’s no such thing as Californian cuisine, there is a theme running through. There’s a tendency to pile on the ingredients. You could easily be offered duck breast, with shaved fennel, pomegranate essence, wilted spinach, roast carrot, and strawberry jus. Makes the dishes a little too complicated for me but it’s a small gripe as the food is fabulous really. We had a very a fine meal in Chaya Brasserie on the Embarcadero. Its sort of Japanese / French so we had Sashimi to start followed by lamb shank – sort of works. The fine Pinot slipped down rather well so Mags asked for a second bottle. “Aw, you English” was the response from the waiter.

Like all major cities, there are plenty of mad, homeless people, and San Francisco has at least its fair share. I don’t think you’re a proper local unless you have a cardboard sign hanging around your neck, muttering loads of nonsense to yourself. Otherwise, walking around is generally safe and hassle free albeit a bit of a struggle up and down the hills. We stumbled into one area that started looking at bit dodgy north on Market Street after all the posh boutiques of the Westfield Centre, there was suddenly a lot of dudes with heavy gold chains, jeans with bottoms scraping the floor counting cash on street corners. We made a tactical retreat.

Central Coast

Central Coast, the bit between LA and San Francisco. We stayed a couple of nights in a fine motel in Cambria called the Blue Dolphin. We were right on the coast, facing the Pacific which blew up a steady gale all the while we were there – very refreshing.

We took a short trip north to Hearst’s Castle, named after William Randolph Hearst, the very wealthy only heir to a mining fortune made by his father in the early 20th century. William went into publishing buying up newspapers and in his spare time spent his dosh buying loadsa stuff and cramming it into a palatial and weird mansion he built on a hill overlooking the family’s immense country ranch. His family bequeathed the estate to California who run it very well as a tourist attraction. It’s a very interesting place. The buildings, comprising a very large main house and 4 separate guesthouses, benefit from the impressive views and strangely gothic / Spanish / church architecture. The rooms are bursting with artifacts and art collected buy Hearst. It’s like a mini British museum but with all the periods and cultures mixed together. So you might have a stuffed owl from the Victorian era, next to an Indian tapestry facing an Egyptian sculpture. Old Willie had a fair amount of influence with his money, and he had a keen interested in films. The main house has a full sized cinema room where we saw a short home movie with Charlie Chaplin playing tennis with Bill Tilden, the first American to win Wimbledon, on the castles’ court. Clark Gable, Bob Hope and Winston Churchill were also guests at one time or other. You have to take one of four guided tours offered to visit, but well worth it.

Unfortunately for us, the Pacific Highway, which runs along the coast to San Francisco, was closed north of Hearst’s castle due to a landslide so we had to drive up to Monterey via the freeway inland. We stayed near Cannery row, where scores of women used to can sardines all day, and is now turned into a tourist strip full of restaurants and souvenir shops.

Near Monterey is the wealthy town of Carmel which we drove through briefly just to make our day on our way to visit the world famous Pebble Beach golf course, scene of Graham McDowell’s US Open triumph in 2010. The course is one of four located in a private suburb surrounded by fuck off villas. You have to pay $10 just to enter and drive around gawping at the rich people. The main course is actually a public course so anyone can play but you have to stump up $500 per round and stay 2 nights in the plush lodge which isn’t cheap either – so that rules out most of the population. (Although that’s about 50 Aussie dollars so c’mon you Aussies get over here.) We went into the lodge anyway, had a look around, took a few snaps and walked around the eighteenth green which runs right along the ocean – gave me a thrill but didn’t do much for Mags.

We continued south along the ‘1’ to the Big Sur which is a stunning scenic drive and had lunch at Nepenthe with majestic views along the coast.

Were now in Yosemite where we awoke to the news that the Americans have finally found Bin Laden. The meeting didn’t go too well for Osama and the Americans have all apparently gone crazy but it’s hard to tell the difference here.

Yosemite

Yosemite. This is the place to come if you like trees, there’s literally millions of them, a forest I think it’s called. We are in a wilderness area here and there are a few dangerous animals to look out for, including black bear and mountain lion. The local advice if you are attached by a mountain lion is to fight back. Words of wisdom there.

I woke up this morning to the news that scientists have discovered a link between Alzheimer’s and Obesity. Apparently, large people are more likely to develop dementia, or is it that stupid people are more likely to become fat. Controversial I know, but that’s how Sue sees it. Anyway, inspired by this story, I selected a harder than usual hike for the day’s excursion in an attempt to hang on to the few remaining brain cells that I possess. With Mags under the weather, I set off solo for a 4 mile hike to Chilnualna falls. I have no idea how that’s pronounced so I call them the Chimichanga falls in honor of all the Mexican restaurants in California. Around 20 minutes in I came to a very impressive waterfall with water thundering down at a tremendous rate. I took a few pictures congratulating myself on being in better shape than I thought. I was about to head back down when I bumped into David from Virginia. After the usual pleasantries: “You must be pleased to be out of the London fog” and “No, I didn’t go to the royal wedding” he said how pleased he was that there was this little fall so early on in the walk. “Little” – it looked like Niagara to me. Anyway, a bit more walking to do. After 2 hours of uphill wheezing I arrived at the said Chimichanga falls, even more spectacular with the water consumption of the UK cascading down every second. Back home pronto for a few cold beers.

We’re in a small cabin at the southern end of the park in a small community called the Redwoods. There are lots of holiday cabins dotted amongst the pine trees. Its very tranquil with a creek babbling through around 20 yards away.

Yosemite valley is about 30 minutes drive away and, although fairly busy, really is an extraordinary place, carved out through glacial erosion, giant granite cliffs spill water into the valley from an incredible height. The scale of the valley is hard to take in as it really is gigantic, everything is super-sized. The Yosemite falls is the predominant feature; it stands 2,425ft above the valley and is the largest in North America, spilling more water than a losing Aussie cricket captain.

The park is beautifully maintained with plenty of walking and cycling trails for all abilities. We managed a few walks around the valley and a slightly more strenuous climb in Mariposa where there is a grove of giant Sequoia trees. There’s less people here, thinning out the higher you climb. Near the top, where there was still plenty of snow, we watched as the Rangers felled a pine which crashed to earth with an impressive boom echoing through the forest.

Kings Canyon

We motored out of the desert in a cloud of dust and arrived at our new spacious cabin near Kings Canyon national park.

Our accommodation was a little bizarre. To start with, we were in a three bedroom cabin as the smaller ones were already taken. We were one of about six cabins in a lovely, remote country about 3000 feet up. It was a huge block with a small lake, pine trees galore and an old, abandoned airport which was quickly being overrun by nature.

In our apartment, there’s a prospectus for a business plan for 75 cabins with a plan to install a solar power array in the airstrip, which obviously didn’t get off the ground. Our cabin looked like it needed a bit of work, or it too would be in danger of falling back into the earth. Our host greeted us with the news that there had been a bit of a mouse problem in our cabin and to inform them if we see any – not a great start. We actually had a really enjoyable and relaxing stay. There was no TV or internet so we both sat on the deck reading novel after novel and chilling out, interspersed with some lonely walks around the site amongst the pines, wild flowers, hills and abandoned buildings. There were birds of prey aplenty (not my thing so can’t say exactly what they were). Four of them came really close as they rode the thermals on top of a hill we were walking. We were a little nervous when they starting circling directly over us, so we quietly moved off.

Our trip into Kings Canyon itself wasn’t entirely successful. We rose another 3000 ft to 6000 on the short 20 minute drive to the park. As we approached the ranger station, we started to see snow by the roadside – and not just a few patches of leftover winter falls, but 10 foot high, solid ice. When we arrived the temperature had dropped to 49F and we were surrounded by the white stuff. The chap on the car next to us opened his boot and pulled out a pair of skis!

So it came as no great surprise when we discovered the road to the canyon itself was closed. We did manage a very scenic drive along the roads that were open; a short walk around Hume lake, where there is a Christian camp (Hail Mary); and a few excursions to see the giant sequoias that dominate the landscape here including the massive General Grant tree, 267ft high and estimated to be around 2,200 years old which is even older than Alex Ferguson.

Death Valley

We’re in the heart of Death Valley at a place called Furnace Creek. Yes, you get the picture, it’s hot and it’s only springtime. We arrived via a stopover to break the journey in Ridgecrest, a moderately sized town about 50 miles from the national park, whose principal purpose seems to be mining and to support the nearby naval base. Why the Navy needs a base in the desert, we didn’t ask.

I was hoping for some Wild West action; saloons with swing doors, card games, dodgy looking characters, and long tales. Well OK, we know its 2011 but we were expecting to find a bar of some sorts and failed miserably. There is the usual assortment of drive through take away places and not much else. We settled for a Chinese which was drive through but also had a few tables, and of course a couple of fish tanks. The food was actually OK, but I wouldn’t put Ridgecrest on your must do list just yet.

Back to DV where the landscape really looks like another world. George Lucas shot some scenes for the first star wars films here and you can see why. The barren land is twisted into some incredible shapes through millennia of seismic activity fused with a Van Gogh like array of colours from the mineral rich rocks. There are some sand dunes, although not many, and ranges of rocks that look like frozen sand dunes. At Dante’s view, about an hour from our base, there’s an everlasting view of the valley below including the lowest point at Badwater , 282 feet below sea level with the salt pan a dazzling white streak along its length. On the valley floor you can walk out onto the salt where the crystals form hexagonal plates. At Panamint Springs in the West of the park, we walked up to the spring where a small waterfall emerges from the arid rock to provide an oasis of flora and the water for the nearby camp. There’s a scenic road along “Artists‘ Drive” where we took a short walk into a kaleidoscope of colour from an assortment of rocks laden with minerals from Borax to Iron ore.

We stayed in the very comfortable Furnace Creek Inn, which has a rich history being the first tourist hotel built in Death Valley. At one point it was an exclusive retreat for the rich and famous. Clark Gable got married here and Marlon Brando used to stay in our room (so we were told anyway. I’m a bit doubtful as the bed was no way big enough – OK, going native there, it wasn’t large enough)

Palm Springs

We finally escaped the clutches of LA and motored out to the beautiful Palm Springs, wedged between two mountain ranges. We arrived about lunchtime and thought we’d pop into downtown which is about a mile south from our motel. After 5 minutes, a bus pulled up which we though was handy, so we hopped on. We were starting to regret climbing aboard as the driver appeared to be disinterested in continuing the journey. The prospect of progress looked bleak when he pulled out a novel and settled back in his chair. Eventually we did move on. A huge lady asked us where we were from. “Aw England. That’s where the food is expensive and the portions are small”. That’s us in a nutshell really.

It’s hot, hot, hot here with the mercury approaching 90F. Naturally, this requires frequent refreshment. We found a very cooling Mexican place serving wonderful Margueritas so we settled in there for a few hours. The restaurants here have water pipes spraying a fine mist onto the diners outside to keep everyone cool, very impressive considering we’re in the desert.

Next day we met up with Chris and Joan who took us to a very good restaurant overlooking a recently built golf course near where they live in Cathedral City. There really are a lot of golf courses here. Despite the desert climate there apparently is an abundance of water from underground aquifers that are constantly being replenished from run off from the mountains. I managed a few holes with some clubs borrowed from Chris which was a bit of a challenge in the heat (99 degrees) and the clubs hadn’t seen the light of day for 30 years so were not quite state of the art. I hooked up with a few local gents, one of whom popped into his house next to the eighth green and reappeared with a few refreshments – fabulous.

On our final day we took the sky tram (cable car to you and me) up to the top of the Chino Canyon and found ourselves in another world. The lift ascends 800 feet and we were suddenly in a forest of pine trees with snow on the ground. The temperature here is typically 30 to 40 degrees cooler than the desert floor, but on our visit we were still able to walk around comfortably in T shirts. There are several well marked walking trails. We followed one called desert view which gave up some tremendous views of the desert valley below.

All in all we were very impressed with Palm Springs and wished we had a few more days but we were booked into Death Valley so it was adios amigos and slap on that sun cream.

Dana Point, Orange County

Southern California, Pacific coast – its so laid back here even the seagulls can’t be bothered stealing your lunch. We’re in a very modern condo about 300 meters from the beach. Early morning exercise on the beach is the done thing either surfing, power walking, jogging, or there’s a new sport which involved standing on a surf board with one paddle. What’s wrong with good old fashioned sit down rowing? Walking along the beach on Monday, we were so inspired by the locals we both spontaneously broke into a jog, causing a few local earth tremors, and the odd sideways look. We decided to spend the day hanging out the beach so had our shorts, packed lunch, and novels to hand. We found a quiet spot near the marina to read for a few hours. Unfortunately we both now have lobster legs and have to cover up for a few days.

Spent yesterday morning whale watching, or more accurately described as ‘searching for whales to no avail’; but we did spend a very pleasant few hours on the water and saw plenty of common dolphins surfing the bow wave in front of the boat.

Los Angeles

LA, the definite French article, or alternatively, Los Angles - a small coastal town north of San Diego. We spent an eventful first day on an urban treck from Hollywood to Beverley Hills. Although it looks like the two districts are next to each other on the map, this was actually a 5 mile hike. This came as a small surprise to me as I thought we were popping out for breakfast.

We’re staying in a small bunglalow just off Sunset Boulevard not far from Sunset and Vine for those who know the area.

Our walk didn’t last long initially as Mags had set off in her thongs (aka sandals, not underwear) and was bleeding into the concrete before long. A quick diversion to a shoe shop and a pharmacy and we were back on our way. It was fun to wander along some of the famous roads such as Santa Monica Boulevard (“This ain’t no disco……All I wanna do” and all that), but these avenues are extremely long and I think its fair to say that we weren’t seeing the best parts which I expect are closer to the coast. There was a fairly generic strip of concrete dotted with fast food outlets, cafes, shops, and gas stations. At the edge of West Hollywood and Beverly Hills we entered an upmarket area with ultra expensive couture shops. Suddenly, there were lots of Mercs, and coiffured women carrying small dogs.

We trudged on into Beverley Hills, wandering the immaculate streets and impressive dwellings looking unsuccessfully for the home of the Beverley Hillbillies. We did find a very fine Italian restaurant near Rodeo drive and Wiltshire where we saw the second half of the champions league game between Chelsea and Man U. Unfortunately we lost 1 nil but the lunch was superb.

Thursday we spent a very enjoyable day at the Getty centre which has a fine, but modest collection of impressionist paintings including Degas, Monet, Turner, Cezanne and Van Gogh. The building itself is very impressive, dazzling white columns and stone perched high in the Santa Monica hills with the rest of LA laid out below with views all the way along the pacific coast.

We’re now in Dana Point, Orange County chilling out on the beach. We’re theoretically south of LA but its really another suburb. We drove out south along the pacific highway and LA just goes on and on and on ……… and on. There’s no break in the concrete jungle yet, and we still haven’t seen a cow or a sheep – not still alive anyway.

Palm springs next, so I’m off to purchase the Zimmer frame.

Le Marche

The weather’s really picked up over the last few days from the start of April and the mercury is regularly hitting 20 plus. We’re in the impossibly scenic Le Marche in the Appenine mountain range, surrounded by mountain top medieval towns and snow capped peaks. We’re staying in an apartment in a restored villa about 2 kms from Sarnano, just such a medieval town famed for its thermal baths which attract hordes of visitors year round.

The villa has been restored by an English couple, Damien and Sharon, from south London who upped sticks a couple of years ago and moved here with their two children. They’ve done a fantastic job of renovating the property and live here in one of the apartments and let out the other three. Needless to say, we are the only guests at the moment. Is there a recession going on? The sitting is idyllic with jaw dropping views towards Sarnano framed by the mountains behind.

We’ve mostly been walking through the hills following a few trails that Damien has ripped off from other guide books and has left with loads of other useful information in the apartment. The scenery is just beautiful with a mixture of woodland, small farms, ancient villages with terracotta roofs and the mountain range dominating the skyline. This does mean that we are getting a little more exercise than usual but we are trying to balance this out with the fantastic food and wine, just to ensure we keep our perfectly honed figures.

One of our walks ended up being a little moiré challenging than usual as we headed off upwards in the car just past the skiing resort of Salletto nearby. Our walk started following a stream up river at the bottom of a ravine, which was OK although we had to cross the stream a number of times which included getting a bit wet. The problems started when we got a little higher where the ravine opened out. Here, we were supposed to follow a track left an upwards, the only problem being that the track was completely covered in snow and ice. There was a small copse to our left, and I had the brilliant idea that if we scrambled through that then we should be able to pick up the track further on. This, unbelievably, actually worked and we were soon back on course. Trouble was, things got distinctly tougher from here and the path was regularly covered in snow often mixed in with earth and rubble from winter avalanches. After and a few kilometers the path disappeared completely and it was snow and ice all the way and we had to guess which way to go. Mags was having a sense of humor failure by then and I may have lost a few points. Still, we made it in the end without too many alarms.

During our stay here the earth moved, literally. We were about 30 kilometers away from the earthquake in L’Aquilla and were woken on the night with the house shaking. We wee of course unaware how bad it was and only found out the next morning. The after shocks continued for the rest of our stay with at least one a day but none as severe as the first.

We had a day out truffle hunting which Damien organized. A local chap and his dog roamed through a small copse for around half an hour looking for the little white orbs, finding one or two, so not particularly exiting but then we were cooked a spectacular meal including spaghetti with said truffles back at a nearby villa overlooking the valley, basking in the sunshine – pure bliss.

Trani & Surrounds, Puglia

We moved south to the fishing town of Trani, full of Italian cross dressers, on the south east coast. Another pretty town with a beautiful Marina full of smart leisure cruisers (going nowhere) and working fishing boats, and an impressive cathedral. Fish was definitely the theme here with fish mongers on every street corner and a central fish market every day. Amongst the memorable meals we had there included a sea food platter by the Marina. There was no menu in this restaurant so we ordered by pointing at what other people had. Mags took a fancy to a mountain of shell fish she saw at a nearby table, Unfortunately, when it arrived we realized that all the sea food was raw. Raw langoustines, prawns, sea urchins, mussels, clams and oysters. The langoustines had the consistency of jelly but tasted OK with a little lemon juice. Still, we couldn’t help feeling that they’d be improved no end with a few minutes under the grill.

Another night out saw us venture into the Irish pub. Yes, they really are everywhere. We wanted to see the Irish v the Welsh in the 6 nations decider and reckoned that it would be a dead cert that the game would be shown there. We arrived just before kick off only to find that the place was closed. There were a few people milling about though and the owner popped his head out to see who could possibly want to come in so early on. They had no idea that the game was going on; the place was about as Irish as Vladimir Putin. Still, the owner was really friendly and, when he realized what we wanted, let us in and put the game on.

We used Trani as our base for exploring Puglia and managed a few trips down the coast to:

· Castle del Monte, a hugely impressive Octagonal castle built by Frederick II, and a UNESCO world heritage site.

· Alberobello, another UNESCO site, a town of small conical shaped dwellings made of whitewashed stone with no mortar called Trulli. Legend has it that the residents dismantled their homes when the tax inspector came to avoid paying. It’s a bit full on touristy now with most of these querky buildings converted into shops selling tat, but a very interesting place.

· Lecce, a university city further down south with a beautiful medieval centre.

Gargano, Puglia

We started our travels in Puglia in the Gargano which is the spur on the heel of Italy’s boot. These days, the majority of the land is given over to the Gargano national park. We stayed in an old villa that had been converted into apartments. As usual, we were the only guests. The property sat in the middle of endless acres of olive trees running down to the Adriatic coast. Inside was a fantastic large country kitchen complete with a walk in fireplace, Yes, walk in – with cooking utensils for cooking over the fire – so, an indoor barbeque. Outstanding. The gardens included Lemon trees that were laden with fruit.

We wanted to do a few walks in the park and headed into Monte Saint Angelo, a pretty village at the top of the mountain that we were nestling under, and a focal point for Christian pilgrims who come to pay homage to the miracle of St Michael the archangel who is said to have appeared in a grotto here before the Bishop of Siponto in AD 490. The village is also host to the Gargano national park information office which took a fair bit of finding, tucked away at the bottom of a residential street. We were given a marvelous reception there (perhaps they don’t get many visitors), and came away with maps and books all free of charge.

Next day we drove to forest Umbria for a walk we found in one of the books. Unfortunately, there’s not a great deal of sign posts pointing out where trails start so we tried in vain to locate the beginning of the walk. We did have a very nice drive through the countryside, though. Undeterred, we blundered around until we came to what looked like it might be a sign post for a walk, parked up, and set off. Fortunately, this was a very pleasant walk up through forest and to a hill top with views over the coast. It appeared to be a section of a long track that runs between the town of Vieste on the coast and Monte Saint Angello.

Our second walk in the national park was at lake Lesina which lies to the north of the park where a narrow isthmus separates the lake from the Adriatic sea. We arrived at the promised car park and information centre only to find it closed. Did we arrive too early I hear you ask. But no, the place wasn’t just closed but abandoned. Permanently shut with weeds growing over the car park. Not one of Italy’s more popular tourist sites then. Nevertheless, we set off anyway along a track that took us out along the isthmus. We were promised flamingoes on the lake but they were sadly shy or absent. The strip of land immediately bordering the lake was occupied by a series of small holdings so we actually only managed to catch occasional glimpses of the lake. After a few kilometers we came unexpectedly across a newish looking wooden path, proudly paid for by the EU. The decking was built to protect the flora underneath. Naturally, we had to walk along this to find out what was at the end (and to get our moneys worth having contributed to funding it). The path brought us to some sand dunes which quickly gave way to a spectacular sandy beach alongside the Adriatic. The beach must have been at least 5 kms long and totally deserted. Unfortunately it was strewn with all sorts of rubbish, plastic and glass bottles everywhere, polystyrene boxes, oil drums mixed in with driftwood. In fairness to the locals it looked like flotsam and jetsam washed up rather than deliberate littering and dumping. After all, the place looked like it doesn’t get many visitors. Its just that no one bothers to clean up the mess. About a kilometer to our right was a large shipwreck, with a container ship jammed into the beach with its aft still in the sea, slowing rusting into the Adriatic. Quite a surreal sight all in all. On the way back to the car we came across an old park complete with overgrown paths, collapsed park benches and crumbling communal barbeques. Like all the people had mysteriously vanished a few years ago. We had a beautiful drive back home along the nearby lake Varano and then through the Umbria forest. I managed to take a wrong turn through one town and ended up going the wrong way down a one way street but, this being Italy, no-one seemed to mind.

Napoli

We arrived safely in Napoli after our overnight crossing, albeit a bit knackered as the ship tossed about a bit and neither of us got much sleep. Our arrival was a little late and we found ourselves in the middle of the morning rush hour. Driving through that was definitely extreme sport. There doesn’t appear to be any rules to driving in Napoli and anything goes; lights are routinely ignored, motorbikes frequently use the pavements and suddenly appear going the wrong way up one way streets, and the method used for entering traffic is to move first and look afterwards trusting that other traffic will miss you or stop, which by the look of most vehicles, doesn’t always work. And of course this is all happening at great speed. It really did feel like being in a computer game. With Mags screaming every 5 seconds next to me my nerves were shredded by the time we got to the hotel.

I’d developed a tooth ache on our last few days in Sicily so our first job was to seek out a dentist. Our friendly concierge recommended someone locally and I set off in a taxi. The practice was located in an unpromising residential neighborhood utilizing a converted flat in a tower block. I almost turned around when I got there but ploughed on and, once inside, the place looked well equipped, modern with professional looking staff. Anyway, lets just say the rest was an interesting experience – root canal work with no anesthetic. No-one spoke English and after half an hour, neither did I. The dentist opted for phone a friend and I communicated with him by speaking to a chap at the end of the phone with the phone passing between me and the dentist. You’d laugh it didn’t hurt so much.

Yesterday we visited Vesuvius and Pompei. We had clear, blue skies and the views from the volcano were amazing. We decided not to climb to the very top as it was very windy and cold up at the top.

We both enjoyed Pompei and even managed to avoid being hussled into an unnecessary car park for 10 euros. The site was much larger than I expected with really a fair amount of the city excavated and still standing. Walking along the cobbled streets was quite an experience and really gave us a feel for city life in Roman times. The baths were spectacular with plenty of marble and some of the art work still visible. We picked a great day to visit with blue skies and sunny weather and, being off season, not too many tourists – although I expect there’s always at least a fair smattering. Apparently, this is Italy’s most visited tourist site.

Some observations on Italian life so far, the first one from Mags.

There’s no such thing as a thin middle aged woman.
Lunch runs from 1 to 4:30
Wine with lunch is compulsory
Traffic lights are advisory only.
Only tourists say “perfavore”

More Sicily

More Cefalu

Cefalu is dominated by a huge rocky hill known simply as La Rocca, capped by an old castle initially built by the Arabs but later conquered by the Normans in the 11th century. Obviously, this has to be climbed and we duly set off from the centre of town starting with a paved straircase. Round about twenty minutes later we entered through the first fortifications and were logged in by a crusty old chap who’s sole purpose appears to be to count the tourists in and out. The path climbs steadily past old buildings towards the ‘castello’ at the top. There’s a surprisingly large proportion of well maintained ruins and original walls still standing, but the highlight really is the view, with the town and disproportionately large cathedral below and magnificent views along the east and west coasts.

Palermo

Our guide book describes Palermo, Sicily’s capital, as decrepit and dignified. Well, we didn’t see the dignified part. But decrepit, dirty, crumbling and litter strewn it is. We liked it immediately. What it does have is endless Piazzas adorned with once great buildings simply rotting into the earth and statues and monuments in abundance. With a little imagination its easy to see that Palermo must have been a very great and wealthy city indeed. These days it looks as if the rich people just left one day and then the current residents moved in without the money or inclination to keep it maintained, Presumably, one day it will collapse completely and everyone will move on.

We did manage a very strange meal in Palermo as we found a Chinese restaurant and, after 3 weeks of Italian food, we fancied a change. The meal was mostly memorable for the surreal experience of ordering Chinese food in Italian.

Scopello

Further along the North coast, a little west of Palermo is Scopello, a tiny village situated at one end of the Zingaro national park, Sicily’s first. We rented a small bungalow in a complex of 8 just by a pretty little pebble beach. We were the only residents. Did we arrive too early?

The park itself runs along the coast and we set off one day to hike across it and back – 14kms in total, but the path was well maintained and we had a great day strolling around on our own. The weather had turned a bit windy, but it was a warm wind and the temperature was 22 degrees so pretty good walking conditions. Not long after we arrived back the weather turned and a fair old storm blew in and has rained us in for 2 days. We’ve turned into southern Mediterranean softies and only go out when the sun shines.

We booked the ferry to Napoli today and head there with the car overnight on Monday 9th March. Hopefully we’ll find a bit more internet access on the mainland and will be on-line a little more frequently.

With only Italian TV and no internet we’ve had to find ways to pass the time. Last night we were reading the label on the back of a pesto bottle during dinner. (This being another method we’ve started to learn Italian) And it lead to a philosophical debate about what makes a nut a nut as compared to a seed. Does anyone know? We really must get a pack of cards.

Sicily

Catania

We arrived into sunny Sicily on the 9th February, keen to embark on our well thought out and precision planned trip. Well, we had at least organized our hotel for the first 2 nights in Catania. The airport is only 7 kms from the city centre which was just as well as the fare rate is astonishing and makes London cabs look like cheap public transport. We arrived safely enough, 40 Euros lighter and moved into out small, quiet and beautiful hotel just a few blocks from the main city square, Piazza Duomo.

Cantania is on the east coast of Sicily facing the Ionian sea and nestled in the shadow of Mount Etna, Europe’s most active volcano. We found Catania a slightly run down but interesting city with plenty of ornate terraces, squares and of course churches. It felt very safe which was a relief after Mags read a review of the hotel we were staying at by a customer as who car jacked as they arrived.

The highlight was our trip to the fish market which takes place every day just behind the main square, and is apparently the busiest in Sicily. There’s dozens of stall holders all shouting out their prices to a throng of people vying for the best spot and determined to get he best price for the seafood. It’s a riot of colour and noise, quite a performance on its own. Intermingled with the fish stalls are grocers, butchers, fromageries, dellies and so on. We stopped for lunch in one of the many seafood restaurants that circle the area. (Mags picked the expensive looking one) – Had a marvelous lunch of mixed seafood pasta and grilled bream, washed down with a very drinkable Sicilian white. Of course, all in the name of foodie research.

Catania’s streets are paved with tiles made from Volcanic rock, which only seems sensible and fair enough as its in plentiful supply, but it does have this quality of squealing when it comes into contact with rubber. There’s a constant screech in the air as cars run around the city sounding like a go cart race track.

It is a fairly quiet town despite the large student population and we de did find it quite hard to find anywhere for a drink in the evening that had any life in it. Perhaps we old fogies were just going out too early. On our second and final night we exhausted the town centre, traipsing around unsuccessfully looking for a lively bar. We headed back to the hotel and decided just to walk around the block to see if they were any local establishments. We found a small street with a clutch of Trattorias all grilling meat in the street, and a fair crowd of locals. We selected one and sat outside at a plastic table. It looked like a family run affair with Dad cooking the meat and his school age daughters serving. We somehow managed to order quail (for me) and something wrapped in aubergine that Mags had. (We don’t know what it was and frankly don’t want to know), with a tomato salad, beers and a carafe of surprisingly drinkable red from a barrel next to the barbeque – all for 11 Euros.

Taormina

Toarmina is a tourist destination a little way North up from Catania. We picked up our hire car in downtown Catania and zipped up the Motorway to our destination. Getting there was the easy bit, but finding the car park proved to be a little more challenging. The Sat Nav got a little confused in the tiny streets and we ended up driving round and round the town several times. We eventually called the travel agent we booked the place through and were directed to a huge car park at the foot of the town.

At this time of year Toarmina is very quiet – well shut actually. Not a lot to do is putting it mildly so booking a week here was in hindsight probably stretching it a little. But it is certainly a good place to wind down, and we both read several novels during our stay. Out little apartment was on the top floor of four flats with a large terrace with magnificent views of the town below, the Ionian sea and the Italian mainline in the distance.

We managed a short walk up a series of steps close to our apartment to a castle (castello) at the top of the cliff behind us. Here you get great views of Mount Etna when its not shrouded in cloud which it was in the day we were there. But the views were down the coast were stunning anyway.

Another must see is the well preserved Greek theatre which dominates the town. The Greeks founded it but the remaining ruins are mostly Roman. Again, great views from here over the town and along the coast.

Siracusa

We left bustling Taormina behind and headed south to Siracusa for a short stay, This is a larger town with a small medival quarter on an island called Ortigia, which is where we stayed. We arrived at our hotel after again lapping the town a few times, not helped by putting in the wrong destination into the Sat Nav.

The major adventure here was a trip to the Neopolis hosting a clutch of historic sites including a Greek theatre (yes, another one), a Roman ampitheatre, and a cave all located on a old quarry. We decided to walk there as it was only a few kilometers away. The old town quickly gives way a more commercial and industrial area and we soon felt like American tourists who have somehow got lost ion London and ended up in Hackney. Everything was suddenly a lot more ‘real’.

Despite being a large town, the old, touristy part was, like Taormina, was mostly shut. Did we arrive in Italy too early? We did locate a fantastic restaurant on the waterfront though and managed our first seafood platter of the trip overlooking the sea. (Just trying to keep the economy going).

Cefalu

A long drive north west across the island took us to Cefalu, a popular tourist destination near to Palermo. We’re here as I write this in our perfectly located apartment overlooking the beach below us 20 metres away. This is a very pretty town sheltered under a huge rock and featuring a very impressive cathedral (Duomo).

We’re just winding down here, enjoying the sun and strolling along the beautiful and largely deserted beach.

We’ve found a great way to learn Italian by watching their version of Millionaire on the TV, We sit with a dictionary and a glass of wine, trying to work out the question and the answer before the contestant does which we even managed to do a few times. Out Italian is coming along slowly and not surprisingly consists mostly of food items when we’re at the market or a restaurant. Pointing is still pretty useful but there’s not a huge amount of English spoken here. I ended up speaking French in one shop as that was our common least worst language.

Our current plan is to stay in Sicily for an extra week before heading off to Puglia. We have to travel through Calabia to reach Puglia and there looks like there’s been loads of snow there.

Queensland

Queensland, as hot as chip fat.

Brisbane
We flew north to visit Glenys and her boys Zak and Adam. We generally hung out for a week basking in the sunshine and relaxing. We helped Glenys celebrate her ?? birthday on the 6th March and received some wonderful news from home where our niece Leah had given birth to Sarah Louise in the same day, making Mags a Great Auntie – but don’t tell anyone.

Fliss travelled up from Sydney by train and the two of us visited the all new Queensland museum of modern art, housing all the works post 1970 that had previously been housed in the nearby state art gallery. We travelled there along the river using the wonderfully convenient citycat service. There was a very interesting exhibition of Asia Pacific art that we both enjoyed before meeting up with Mags for a spot of lunch – it’s a hard life.

We spend an afternoon having a barbeque by the pool shared by the residents of Glenys’ apartments. Alcohol was “not allowed” so we were drinking plenty of “apple juice”.

Cairns
We continued north to Caaaaairns, near Cairns to catch up with our friends Lynette and Rudy who have spent the last year living on a Catamaran cruising the Queeensland coast. They’re holed up in the Cairns marina for the duration of the cyclone season. You can learn all about their unbelievably idyllic life by visiting Lynette’s wonderful blog - click on the link to the right of this page.

We spent a memorable day with them on their boat where we cruised to Fitzroy Island, approximately 2 hours away. We anchored about 100 metres from the shore with half a dozen other boats to idle away the afternoon. We jumped into the 28 degree C sea with flippers and goggles for a gentle swim over the nearby reef, and met up with a friendly turtle amongst the rainbow coloured reef fish and coral.

Back on board, I asked Rudy how far further north we would need to travel before we encountered any of the scary, man eating salt water Crocodiles. “Oh, we have them here”, he casually replied as the colour drained from my cheeks. Actually, they like to hang out in the rivers and creeks and, although they do venture out to sea, they generally stick to the outlets of the rivers on the mainland. On the islands, where there are no rivers, it would be very rare to see one. Well, that’s what he told me anyway.

Rudy cooked up a rack of lamb on the barbeque for lunch accompanied by his legendary potato salad, and the afternoon slipped quietly away under the southern sun. Quite a day, and they do this all the time – we’re not jealous at all.

We also had a trip out with them to Mossman in the Daintree Rainforest where we walked round a short 2km circular track. Typically, we find this irresistible. A path that leads nowhere, we couldn’t help ourselves. I went off ahead, as I wanted to get some exercise as Mags was moving like a united nations resolution. I left her limping behind chatting away to Lynette where they managed somehow to get lost before eventually regaining the car park two hours later.

Tasmanian Road Tour

Karen and Malcolm kindly lent us their four wheel drive and we blasted off into the Tasmanian wilderness. We headed north to a small village called Westbury via the scenic route alongside the great lake. We stopped briefly for a couple of short walks; one amongst some rare pencil pines, slow growing trees some of which were hundreds of years old; and another to a small waterfall through some impressive giant ferns, the tops of which were illuminated by bright sunshine that pebbledashed the forest floor.

Mags couldn’t do too much with her heel so I spent a day walking to Meander falls which was a fairly oppressive uphill climb through forest finally ending at the falls that, true to their name, were a mere trickle of water running into a rock pool below, but was a beautiful and peaceful spot for my packed lunch. This certainly was getting away from it all, as I only saw one other couple all day, and a solitary tiger snake which fled in one direction nearly as fast as I did in the other.

Strahan

Gradually we made our way West to Strahan, a small village that appears to be owned by one company; the accommodation, the cruise, and all three restaurants. Unfortunately for us, this monopoly has led to standards slipping as they clearly don’t have to try too hard to keep their customers. The food in the restaurants was truly terrible which is quite an achievement considering that the raw produce is superb. The main reason for visiting Strahan is to take the cruise along Gordon river into the rain forest covered with antique pines. The half day trip is fantastic with the still, wood stained river reflecting the forest all the way along its banks. There’s a brief stop for a walk in the forest with information boards dotted strategically around providing details of the unique flora. We also stopped at yet another old convict settlement at Sarah Island, where there is the option of a guided walk along the ruins. We detached ourselves from the group and generally wandered around for an hour.

We stopped at Queenstown on the way back to Hobart, a mining town stuck strangely in the past; the kind of place that Captain Kirk and Spock used to beam down to. The buildings had the wild west feel as seen by a 60s TV director, and looked as if they might be made of polystyrene. The locals also seemed strangely odd, as if they could be aliens masquerading as country folk.

Back in Hobart Karen and Malcolm completely spoiled us with day trips all over the place and Karen’s fantastic vegetarian cooking. We spent many idle hours on their terrace overlooking the river watching the ships sail by including the QE2 that was in the harbour for a couple of days.