Beth and Mark's Gap Year 2014: National Lampoon's Family Vacation

For our grand tour of Europe we thought that a short visit to a small town in Italy would be a good introduction, and Beth had read some nice reviews of Verona, so Verona it was, just for one night. Beth and I have always enjoyed train travel in Europe, and so although our schedule precluded the use of trains for the entire tour, we thought it would be nice to start off on the rails (we can go off them later). The train trip from Munich to Verona is very nice. First we cross Austria and quite literally travel through the Tyrolean Alps (they certainly know how to build tunnels over here), then into Italy where we pass through the Dolomites. We will revisit the Austrian Alps later in our journey, but the Dolomites couldn't fit into our schedule. They look quite alluring though, so perhaps this is a place to come back to. I think that Beth and I need to live to 150, stay fit and win the lottery a couple of times for all the "must return to" places we have found.

For a small Italian town Verona is quite large. We decided to walk from the station to our lodgings, which on the map was just down the road and across the river. Some of our party felt a cab was in order, but heard our concerns about Italian taxi drivers and suspiciously accepted our assurances that it was only a 20 minute walk. 40 minutes later and tempers were getting frayed as the suitcases were not getting any lighter and the sun was beating down. The bed and breakfast Romeo and Giulietta came into view just in time to avert a family incident. The B&B R&G turned out to be a very basic flat above a family home in a quaint little side street quite close to the town centre. We were attended to by the archetypal Italian mama and her 30 something flash Italian son. Not much English spoken, but as we have found in the past, you can say a lot with your hands in Italy, so in no time we were settled and well acquainted with what Verona had to offer. We only had the afternoon to explore Verona, so decided not to be too ambitious, so after a light lunch and coffee (very nice - but evidently cappuccino is a morning drink, so our coffee choice raised some eyebrows - particularly those of my daughter), we planned only three major attractions. Climbing the bell tower, visiting Juliet's house, and visiting the arena.

The bell tower of course is in the market square, and provides spectacular views of the city. I love climbing these old towers, looking down on the people busying themselves in the market square below and gazing at the endless sea of terracotta roofs. We reached the belfry precisely at a quarter past something. We know this because as I was leaning over the railing ready to take a nice overhead picture of the bell, it emitted an ear splitting dong which caused me to almost embarrass myself in public. Best I think in the future to be careful about timing when climbing bell towers, and to entirely avoid 1pm which involves 13 peals of the bells. The bells sound much more charming from a distance. Kelvin it seems also enjoyed the views and his camera got a good workout, and I happily lingered unti being moved along by those in our company less inclined to linger.

Romeo and Juliet, as I understand it was a work of fiction, and although Verona was certainly real, the houses of Montague and Capulet were made up. I do not understand then how there can be a tourist attraction in Verona which calls itself Juliet's house. It turns out that although this house is indeed a genuine 13th Century villa which belonged to the Capello (almost Capulet) family, it's balcony, which of course is the tourist centre of attention, was added in the 20th Century. Oh well, the tourists (including our own good selves) don't seem to be too concerned with facts and come in droves. It was all good fun, and why should we let facts prevent a set of enterprising Italians from making a buck.

Last on our agenda was the Arena, which is a surprisingly intact Roman amphitheatre very similar to, but i guess a little smaller than the Coliseum. Why are we going to Rome I mused. Remarkably, the Arena is still used today for operas, plays and the like. How many 2000 year old buildings are there which are still serving their original purpose I wonder. Initially I was quite horrified to see modern bits of theatre paraphernalia affixed in an inimitably Italian fashion (generally rough edges - often made of concrete) to the ancient structure. How can a monument like this be treated so shabbily thought I. Then I thought a little harder, and realised that this was no temple, it was a living, breathing, evolving piece of history, and how much nicer to have a 2000 year old working theatre, than to have a sterile preserved monument.

The most wonderful pastries (the breakfast part of B&B R&G turned out to be a nice pastry shop just down the road) set us up well the next morning for an early train trip to Rome. This trip aboard the fast train (260kph) was unexceptional except for the fact that we travelled first class (no Beth has not lost her financial marbles, for some reason these tickets were only a dollar or two more than second class). Free coffee, something to nibble, Italian newspapers and a little more legroom was probably the only difference, but it did make us feel a little bit special.

Because we were staying a few nights in each of Rome, Barcelona and Paris, we thought that we would use AirBnB for accommodation. This is a web based service which brokers the short term leasing of private accommodation (in our case apartments) to its clients essentially by charging a fee to put the owner in touch with the tourist. So you end up paying quite a reasonable rate to stay in someone's private flat. As Rome was our first experience with AirBnB we were a little worried about what we might encounter, but there was no need for concern. We were met by a very charming older Italian gentleman named Massimo who introduced us to the gorgeous little apartment in the Trastevere district which was to be our home for the next few days. As well as being a lovely place it was brilliantly located.

Our first day in Rome was spent wandering aimlessly, which is not such a bad thing because part of the charm of Rome is stumbling upon new and interesting things. Certainly our wanderings took us by the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, the Pantheon, the National Monument and other iconic Roman places, but it also took us past wonderful buildings, magnificent piazzas and bustling streets which held no real significance for us other than being part of the Roman experience. Our first day in Rome also happened to be the day of the World Cup final, which Kelvin and I were keen to watch, so as we roamed the streets we kept an eye out for likely spots. As it turned out, two doors down from our apartment stood the Cinema Americana which was advertising a telecast of the game, so we decided we would partake. The Cinema Americana closed down about twenty years ago and fell into disrepair whilst the owners plotted a new purpose for the site (I understand that a car park was one thought). It seems that procrastination provided a perfect opportunity for squatters to move in, but not the type you might imagine. In this case it was a group of so called social squatters who renovated (after a fashion and within their means) and reopened the old cinema and converted rooms into public study spaces. It is now a ramshackle but fully functional cinema and it's seems a very vibrant meeting place for young Romans. Our "pay what you can" entrance fee bought us quite an experience watching the game with a very diverse and generally "different" crowd, and I think the pervasive smell of marijuana and tobacco may have kept us alert for the long game ahead.

The two major attractions we intended visiting in Rome were the Vatican City and the Coliseum, and we set aside essentially a full day for each. To avoid the long queues for tickets at the Vatican City we decided to pre-purchase online. This allowed us to zip past the long snaking queues for buying tickets straight to the queues for those with pre-purchased tickets, from which we then moved to the queue for security and dress code checking, and finally the queue to go through the turnstile. Still a lot of waiting, but we did miss one very big queue, so worth the extra couple of euros to pre-purchase. We had read mixed reports regarding dress code observance. The Vatican website was quite clear, to enter St Peter's Basilica, women must dress like Mary Poppins and men like Prince Charles, but we expected that some leeway may be given. There was much discussion amongst family members, but eventually Kelvin and I went conservative and decided on long pants and shoes rather than shorts and thongs. Beth was more daring and chose short sleeves and a dress hemline just above the knee. Candice decided that as she had already been to the Vatican, she would save her money and just have a wander. Needless to say plenty of shorts and thongs were in evidence and did not disturb the decency police (Kelvin, sweltering in his jeans was unimpressed). Women in short skirts or revealing blouses however were intercepted, but not ejected as I expected, but instead provided with a disposable plastic shawl to cover their offending parts. Needless to say most of these were disposed of within minutes of entering. Beth, I am happy to say, passed muster.

Once inside we joined the longest queue of all, which was the steady controlled and directed flow of tourists through the Vatican Museum. Although the masses of treasures collected over the ages is all very interesting, after a little while we decided to do some queue jumping and moved fairly quickly through the exhibitions, to linger at the last one, which was the Sistine Chapel, and then to move on to St Peter's. Although crowd control measures were in place, we did indeed linger in the Sistine Chapel long enough to absorb some of this place's splendour, most particularly of course the famous Michelangelo ceiling. Security did eventually usher us out (without the use of batons - although I was amused by the occasional blaring loudspeaker announcements berating noisemakers in a house of worship) and we moved on to St Peter's. This is a truly awesome place which we really enjoyed visiting. I probably should say that the highlight of the visit was the spiritual enlightenment attained through being in this most famous and powerful house of God, but sadly my highlight was somewhat more secular, and involved climbing up the ever narrowing stairs into the cupola atop the basilica to observe the tourist throng below moving about the chapel and to step outside and marvel at the view across the Vatican and beyond. I am sure that there are many who come to the Vatican as a genuine pilgrimage, but I am not sure that I saw many of these folk, maybe they were the ones shaking their heads, because instead of reaching and absorbing the holiest of holy places, they had landed in Catholic Disneyland.

Kelvin's girlfriend Jess gave us the tip to buy a joint ticket for the Roman Forum and the Coliseum and to buy them at the Forum because the queues are shorter. This worked an absolute treat as there was no queue at all and the 2 wonderful hours we spent at the Forum would otherwise have been spent waiting in a line (it probably helped as well that we were there bright and early). The ruins of the ancient Roman city are quite marvellous. It amazes me that there are people who have devoted their entire lives to uncovering and understanding the history of tiny little pieces of this city. Sadly we did not have enough time during our visit to get a good appreciation of the history, and perhaps we should have done a little homework before our visit so that we better understood just what we were looking at. The few hours we spent there was enthralling nonetheless. We felt quite smug bypassing the huge queue at the Coliseum and wandering straight in, although as we expected, we were not alone once we were inside. This is also an amazing edifice, which despite the ravages of time has managed to stay largely intact for almost 2000 years. Having said that, it is showing its age a little, and as a consequence there is a privately funded restoration effort currently underway. I think that the main focus is cleaning off the centuries of muck built up on the travertine stone, but it also looks like they are trying to reinstate at least one section of terraces and part of the competition arena to its original form. I think that this will be a wonderful thing, but I do have my doubts about the privately funded bit. If you invest €30m, typically you would expect some return on that investment. I think we can expect Rolling Stones concerts at the Coliseum (although that might actually be quite fitting because they are nearly as ancient as the monument itself).

Rome was a lot of fun, but a few days does probably not do it justice. An Italian friend of Candice's when asked for tips on what do do in Rome, suggested that she should move there for a year to properly appreciate it. He is probably right. Another well travelled friend of Candice's suggested a nice restaurant to visit in Rome, and coincidentally it was in Trastevere just a around the corner from our flat, so we chose this for our farewell dinner and had a lovely Italian meal, a little more authentic perhaps, but not too dissimilar to many that we have enjoyed at home. I think that Italian is the only cuisine (apart from McDonalds) that you can trust to be consistent wherever you go.

Our flight to Barcelona the next day was not until 3:00, so we busied ourselves in the morning by just wandering around, then had an early lunch and asked our friend Massimo to summon a chariot to convey us to the airport (this does not imply a restored trust in Italian taxi drivers, but they are slightly higher in our hierarchy of trust than the public transport system). The ride to the airport was hair raising. I am sure that road rules exist in Italy, but they were flagrantly disregarded by our driver. Cutting in front of trucks, buses and motorcycles seems to be a quaint custom here (surprisingly horns did not blare and arms were not waved), and although the signs on the freeway suggested a 100kph limit, apparently the correct speed to attain is 150kph, which I am actually surprised that the rattly little tin can we were travelling in was capable of. All of this whilst the driver was on his mobile phone. At least we got to the airport early, and surprisingly there were no hidden surcharges. The only problem was that in our terror stricken state we got the airport terminal wrong. Not to worry, we were early enough to walk over to the correct one.

Our flight to Barcelona was with Ryanair, and we were quite concerned about weight of our suitcase and the rigmarole that Ryanair seem to put its customers through, but our concerns were unfounded and we could not have asked for a more pleasant experience, both boarding and the flight. Even baggage collection at Barcelona was excellent. Everything was going swimmingly. We rang our AirBnB contact from the airport and he cheerfully advised that somebody would meet us at the apartment. To make sure that we arrived on time we caught a cab, which thankfully was much less exciting than the Roman one. I was much impressed by the management of traffic in Barcelona to aid public transport flow. We arrived at the apartment (which was just a street away from the famous La Rambla boulevard ), 10 minutes before the designated meeting time so were happy to just hang about on the street corner. No sign of our man at the agreed time so Candice decided to ring and check what was happening, only to be advised that someone was on the way and we should remain patient. We remained patient (well some of us did anyway) for another twenty minutes, by which time Candice felt another call was in order. This time our telephone contact agreed that perhaps our patience had been tried, and he promised to find our man and call us back. Sure enough a couple of minutes later, 20 something Matthew, our key bearer and welcomer, arrived full of apologies. It appears he had been arrested by the police for running a red light and his bicycle, wallet and mobile phone had been confiscated. It sounded like an interesting story, but importantly he provided us with access to a nice modern apartment which suited us very well. Matthew's boss rang back and seemed less than impressed by his tale of woe. I sensed that this was not his first mishap.

To celebrate our successful landing, we quickly unpacked then went to dinner on the La Rambla tourist strip where tables are set up on the wide promenade which runs down the middle of the road for the whole length of La Rambla de Catalunya. You pay a premium to eat here, but it is a good introduction to Barcelona hearing the constant bustle of the street, and watching he waiters risk their lives every few minutes crossing the road to deliver armfuls of meals. All the noise and colour of Italy, but just a little bit classier. The food was pretty good (paella for Kelvin and I and vegetarian tapas for Beth and Candice), but the experience was more than just the food.

No fixed agenda or schedule for Barcelona, but clearly Beth's Gaudi thirst needed to be slaked, the food needed to be sampled, the markets visited and the streets wandered. Our first day involved a wander along La Rambla to the waterfront (via the market for lunch) and a visit to the beach and the street stalls along the way. The beach was just average by Australian standards, but ridiculously packed and obviously popular for locals and tourists on a nice sunny day (I think that they only have nice sunny days in Barcelona). No swimming for us, just sightseeing. From the beach we wandered through the Barrio Gòtico district (which is the old city centre of Barcelona) and then up the hill to Monjuic (which is where many of the Barcelona Olympic Events were housed) to wander through the castle and gardens and to catch a cable car back down the hill. Then the long walk back home for dinner, after which we braved the Barcelona public transport system to head back out after dark to Monjuïc and the magic fountain. This is an absolutely amazing spectacle which is not to be missed if you ever visit Barcelona. The fountain, which is magnificently situated on a grand avenue beneath the Palau Nacional and spectacularly illuminated, constantly changes it's shape as water jets move around and the intensity of the spray is varied. We (along with thousands of others) were transfixed for ages, needless to say Kelvin's camera was working overtime. I assumed that this fountain, which seemed technically quite clever, was created for the 1992 Olympics, but in fact it was built in 1929 for the Barcelona International Exposition. Amazing.

Although neither Kelvin nor I are diehard supporters of the Barcelona Football Club, it is clearly one of the foremost sporting institutions in Europe and home to some of he world's best footballers, including the amazing Lionel Messi. Given that we love our sport, it is unthinkable that we would visit Barcelona without going out to Camp Nou stadium to pay homage to this great club, so day 2 was set aside for just this. Beth and Candice of course do not share these particular passions, so they instead decided to visit the Picasso museum, which I am sure was very nice. To be honest, I did have reservations about parting with money just to visit a sports stadium, but I have to say it was a fantastic experience. There were rooms full of trophies, memorabilia and history which helped to provide an understanding of the club culture. The Barca motto is "more than just a club", and clearly it is just that. It is a fiercely proud Barcelona and Catalunya institution. Having soaked in some of the history, we stepped out into the stands and visited the change rooms and press rooms, after which we sat and watched some video displays of great moments for the club and spectacular individual efforts from some of its great players. All in all, an excellent day for a sports lover.

After lunch (again bits and pieces from the market, consumed on the steps just like the local hobos), we took our first taste of Antoni Gaudi (apart from a fleeting passby of the Casa Battlo the previous evening). The Palau Guell was one of Antoni Gaudi's first commissions, and the family home (for a short while anyway) of Gaudi's lifelong benefactor, the industrialist Eusebi Guell. Evidently Guell had seen a window that he admired immensely at a Paris exposition and sought out the designer (none other than the recently graduated architect Antoni Gaudi) to design a home for him in Barcelona. The rest of course is history. This is a wonderful place which was allowed by its owners to fall into disrepair. Because they could not demolish it and the cost to renovate was enormous, the owners decided to donate the house to the Barcelona people, and renovation works were commenced by the city. They have done a wonderful job of painstakingly, and without compromise, restoring the building to its former glory.

The main focus for our final full day in Barcelona was Gaudi's unfinished masterpiece the Sagrada Familia. Online tickets again gave us the means to zip smugly past the enormous queues. We almost came unstuck though when the bar code reader at the entrance could not read the tickets on my iPhone and we were sent around the other side of the church to have them printed. Just go straight to the counter and bypass the queue we were told. I did as I was told but I must admit I feared being beaten up for queue jumping, the worst I got though was some fierce eyes pointed in my direction. Once the tickets were printed it was back to the other entrance and plain sailing. The Sagrada Familia is a wonderful place, even if it is only half finished. It was started in the late 1800s and I think that it is scheduled for completion around 2030, and although the building techniques and materials have changed, the construction is apparently still faithful to Gaudi's original design. 150 years or so may sound like quite long time to build a church, but interestingly many of the big churches in Europe have taken hundreds of years to complete, so perhaps this church is more traditional than it appears. We really enjoyed our time at the Sagrada Familia, including ascending the towers (which we didn't do last time we visited).

After leaving we Sagrada Familia we decided to keep with the Gaudi theme and head out to Park Guell, a fairy tale park designed by Gaudi in the grounds of Eusebi Guell's estate in the outskirts of Barcelona. Disappointingly, since Beth and I last visited, entry fees have been imposed on key sections of the garden, so not only could you not roam freely, but unsightly guarded entry points scattered all over the place detracted somewhat from what is a truly beautiful place. Quite a pity really, and strangely I think that imposing entry fees has actually encouraged more tourists, or maybe it just seemed that way because of the queues. We didn't linger too long at Park Guell, but headed even further out to the Sacred Heart church at Tibidabo, which involved a long walk and a ride to the top of the hill in a funicular. As well as the church, which is quite imposing on the top of the mountain, there is an old amusement park which is really quite interesting, and of course spectacular views of Barcelona. After what really was a huge day, we decided that we should treat ourselves on our last evening in Barcelona to a tapas meal. Again we took the recommendation of Candice's well travelled friend and were not disappointed, the meal was delightful, with the crowd favourite being Patates Bravos, little salty potato bits with a yummy hot chilli aioli.

As with Rome, our flight from Barcelona to Paris was in the early afternoon, so after leaving the apartment we had brunch at a lovely little corner cafe and then wandered down to the Place de la Catalunya to catch the airport bus. Easy jet to Paris this time, and apart from a little turbulence, a very satisfying experience. Cheap flights in Europe seem to be much more customer focused than they were when last we were here. Again we chose a taxi as the most practical way to get to our flat near the Place d'Italie, another AirBnB. When it was our turn to be escorted to a cab (yes you have to queue for taxis as well), the next taxi on the rank was a very nice new Mercedes. Kelvin was very excited until the taxi driver looked at our four cases and pointed us towards a much less salubrious VW maxi taxi thing. Oh well, we didn't come to Paris to ride in Mercedes taxis. Towards the end of our stay in Paris I read that Paris taxi drivers often do not have a good knowledge of Paris streets, so it is advisable to be specific about the route to take. It is a pity I did not read this before our taxi ride. To be fair, he did seem to take us quite directly to the Place d'Italie, but then got a little lost finding the actual address. I found it on my phone and showed him, but this only seemed to confuse him more. Eventually Beth tired of the meter ticking over as we circled roundabouts, so we stopped the car, got out and found the place on foot. Our host this time was waiting for us as planned and she showed us her little apartment, told us to eat whatever we wanted from the fridge and handed over the keys. The apartment was fairly obviously her home, which she vacates if someone books it, and it was typically Paris, sort of shabby, but in a stylish way. Again location was perfect, only 10 minutes jog to the Seine (Candice and I proved that) and only 5 minutes to the Paris Underground, which takes you anywhere once you come to grips with the labyrinth of lines.

In keeping with the rest of this tour, day one was spent largely walking around. First a visit to the Notre Dame Cathedral and the bridge of locks and then a walk along the Seine (via the Louvre courtyard) to catch a Seine River cruise. This is a great introduction to Paris because it takes you past many of the iconic Paris places. The Bourbon Palace, The Grand Palais, Place De La Concorde, The Louvre, The Musee D'Orsay, Notre Dame and Ile de la Cite, and of course the Eiffel Tower and the many wonderful bridges spanning the Seine. Unfortunately the on board commentary is only brief (probably because it is delivered in about 10 languages), so you tend to not learn a lot about some of the other obviously historical places we cruise by. Disappointingly we did not go as far as the Statue of Liberty replica on the Promenade of Swans. Last time we took this trip it did - perhaps the boat owners were fed up with derogatory comments by brash American tourists.

After the boat trip we took a walk along the Champs-Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe and then walked back into the city to catch a train home. Candice decided not to join us, but instead to visit the grave of Jean-Paul Satre and Simone de Beauvoir at Montparnasse Cemetry. Unfortunately Candice has inherited some strange traits from me, including it seems an interest in graveyards and their occupants. Along the way we wandered past a verrrrry tall black man dressed quite flamboyantly. Kelvin shot a couple of quick glances in his direction as we passed and a little further down the road whispered that the man stood out from the crowd so much he must be famous, probably an NBA player. Kelvin and I immediately went into paparazzi mode, me employing my 30x optical zoom to capture distant covert images, and Kelvin employing the more traditional paparazzi technique of very obviously standing on the footpath, taking images of the man at close quarters and then moving on quickly. Having taken the pictures, Kelvin then sent them through to his NBA nut friend A.J. To identify the man. A.J. confirmed that he was indeed a French basketballer who played NBA, I think with the Washington Wizards. Kelvin is now kicking himself that he did not engage the poor chap in conversation.

The focus for day 2 was the Eiffel Tower. We tried our online tickets trick, but it appeared that there were no tickets available until sometime in October. I get the feeling that online tickets are not encouraged here, so queuing it seems is unavoidable. Next morning we were up bright and early to see if we could beat the crowds. Candice again decided not to join us, but instead to visit her favourite museum in Paris, the Musee D'Orsay. Kelvin, Beth and I took breakfast (a bowl of milk coffee and fresh croissants at the local patisserie of course) and made our way to the subway. We thought that we had become quite proficient at navigating our way through the underground, but we didn't reckon on closure of a line whilst maintenance work was performed. This threw us into a spin, which in time we corrected, but we did not quite make it to the base of the tower as early as we had hoped, luckily however, it appears that tourists in Paris sleep late (I think I might know why), so the queues weren't quite as long as we expected, and we were in the lift heading to the top within half an hour of arriving. It is an amazing experience travelling to the top of this tower, which was erected for the Paris exposition of 1889 and intended for dismantling 20 years later, and once at the top, despite the number of people jostling for position to take photographs, it is very easy to linger and soak up the views from each corner. Needless to say Kelvin's camera again got a good workout. We were done with the tower by lunchtime, so caught up with Candice (via a detour to the Promenade of the Swans and the Statue of Liberty replica) and after a bite of lunch headed to the Catacoombs only to queue for 90 minutes and be turned away almost at the entrance because it was closing time (Oh well, we were warned when we arrived that we were unlikely to get in), so we caught a train out to Montmatre to take in the views back to Paris from the Sacre Coeur Cathedral and to wander the winding hilly streets of Montmatre. Unfortunately a heavy haze (or is that smog) put paid to views, but the street wandering was still enchanting, so much so that we wandered all the way back into the City (via the seedy Boulevard de Clichy in the 18th Arrondissement to see it's famous establishment, the Moulin Rouge), by which time it was late and we were quite weary, so we popped into the first street side restaurant that we all agreed upon (yes, it was about the 15th that we had passed) for a bite of dinner. Expensive of course (€7 for a bottle of water!!!!! - this is Paris), but very pleasant apart from the cigarette smoke wafting in from the outside tables. Cigarette smoke sadly is inescapable in Paris.

Beth and I have never experienced Paris after dark, because generally after a hard days sightseeing we are quite weary and well and truly in the land of nod by 10:00, which is when it starts to get dark here in summer. Although this was a big day and we were indeed weary, the fact that Kelvin was quite keen to take photos of the Eiffel Tower illuminated gave us the incentive to prop up the eyelids and enjoy the nightlife. The smoke (and prices) had driven us away from the little restaurant without dessert, and so when a little creperie appeared with reasonable prices we had little choice other to indulge. Generally when something looks good and the price is right and the location is right there is some kind of catch. Not so on this occasion and we enjoyed a memorable feast. At this stage Candice decided that she had run out of steam and headed back to the room to leave the three of us to our night moves.

By the time we reached the tower it was starting to get dark and the lights were glowing. We got some nice pictures from just across the river, but Kelvin decided that we needed a vantage point a little further away at the other end of the Trocadero Gardens. By the time we reached this it was properly dark and space along the terrace with the best vantage point was at a premium, but we managed to jostle our way into a spot to get the perfect pictures. Well perhaps not. Running the length of the Trocadero Gardens is a little lake/pond sort of thing, which if you stand in just the right place (not where we were) reflects the tower quite nicely. So we headed for the right place, which of course was occupied by a gentleman not very willing to relinquish any space. Beth thought that by sitting next to him and cosying up a little, he might take fright, but I think he was wise to her ploy and did not budge. Beth moved on, fearful that perhaps the man was enjoying the attention. Not to be denied, Kelvin managed to reach the camera across the man's head and take some photos, some of which show a reflection of the Eiffel Tower across the man's bald head. By now there had been a subtle change of light, which of course meant that some dramatic shots could be had from the foot of the tower, so of course we moved again and arrived at the right spot just in time for the lights on the tower to start their hourly flashing, which was not quite right so we had to wait. Finally around the stroke of midnight we had all the shots we needed. Kelvin and I compared notes the next morning and we both had about 50 shots apiece of the tower. We had a lot of fun and got a lot of exercise.

The following day Candice and Kelvin decided to head to Paris Disney for the day. Beth and I declined the generous offer to tag along. I am led to believe that they had a fantastic time. We decided to have a quiet day and to plan our escape from Paris the next day. The travel company we booked Kelvin's return flight to Australia with (Hello World) had thrown us a curve ball the previous day by sending a text reminding Kelvin of his flight from Munich at 3:30pm on the day we were to leave Paris. We had actually booked a 10:00pm flight, so somewhere wires had become crossed between Hello World and Qantas and nobody told us. All this meant that it was critically important that we catch our scheduled 7:30am flight from Paris - Charles de Gaulle or risk Kelvin being stuck in Europe (perhaps not an outcome he would have minded).

Knowing that cabs are notoriously unreliable in Paris, we decided our safest option for travel to the airport was by rail. The only problem was that the underground does not open until 5:20, which was too late to get us to a connecting train to the airport. The only option which was available to us was to set out at 4:30 and walk a couple of kilometres to the RER station at Port Royal to catch a direct train to the airport. If we missed it, or it was late or cancelled we were in trouble. The fact that we found three diverse, but supposedly current timetables for our train, and had received significantly conflicting advice from railway personnel did not augur well for a good outcome. Luckily everything worked according to plan and our educated guesses regarding best advice and we arrived at the airport with time to spare and our boarding and flight went very smoothly. An added bonus was that we got to see Paris in the dark again.

We had intended doing a few more things in Munich with Kelvin, but our tighter schedule did not allow this, so we just had a quiet lunch and headed back to the airport to send him home, which was sad for all of us. 3 weeks went by very quickly. We spent the next few days chilling with Candice before embarking on our Alpine walk. We visited the Englischer Garden and watched Munchners surfing in a ditch of fast flowing water, we met up with a couple of Candice's friends and we sampled brunch Munich style. Food was involved in all these activities, so I had a ball.

This may be my last post ever as I fully expect to die on the Alpine Trek. We are expected to cover an average of 20 Kilometres a day in distance and at least 1,000 metres of ascent and descent each day, with some special days closer to 2,000 metres. I am not sure that cream, bread, cake and sausage are an ideal preparation. Hopefully I do survive, and a weekly (maybe) update will follow.

Until then.....