World Traveller

'Heaven' I have just got to be there?

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Fri, 2 Jul 2010 23:01:00 GMT

Our day in Hangzhou started off like any other in China; with food. We arrived at breakfast to witness the whole hotel; guests and cleaning staff included, dining at the buffet. I ventured, with plate in hand, to find something to satisfy my desire for fresh fruit. I found it in the form of watermelon and rockmelon. However, if I wanted yoghurt, I had to drink it from a container through a straw and if I wanted an egg I couldn't ask for a poached egg or omlette, they only came one way; FRIED. However, I did get my steamed bun fix and tried some of the sweet marshmellow cake that Hangzhou is known for. Remember this was breakfast.

We ventured out into Hangzhou with our guide Wei Min. Remember this is China where everything happens instantly and innovatively. After discovering that we were to establish where we wanted to visit in Hangzhou and that we would be taken we quickly consulted the guidebook. Where does one go in the only place on earth the Chinese deem as 'Heaven'. After a 5 minute consultation we decided that some pagodas, a tea plantation and the infamous lake would suffice. This led to a rather rapid conversation with the first driver of a 'minivan' that we encountered after we exited the lobby of the hotel. Remember that the Chinese must put in an 'oscar winning' performance to get business and thus it was the case. We were bundled into the first 'good price' van and set off despite not being quite sure where we were going and what we were to see. This set the pattern for the next week.

After weaving through the traffic and with much rapid consultation of our guide book we arrived at the first pagoda. We caught glimpses of the lake between the traffic and trees. Since returning from China some people have asked me how I enjoyed the lake views of Hangzhou or a tour on the lake. I must admit that I saw only 'glimpses' through the tinted windows of the bus. Perhaps I have done too much wrong and that is the only glimpse of 'heaven' I will ever get?

The ......Pagoda is much as Paul remembers it 12 years ago. I remember the views over the lake through the open Pagoda doors, the superb carvings coloured in gold, red and black but I don't remember the express escalators up to the entrance. I wondered whatever happened to the strenuous trek a pilgrim had to take to reach enlightenment? However, we were pleased to see how the temple had been restored after the foundations had been affected by an earthquake in the early 30s when the temple had slipped down towards the lake. The temple was restored in recent years and as a result much gold was found in the foundations. How fortunate for the government and the restorers!

We then ventured on in the minivan to a tea plantation. 12 years ago, when Paul and I were visiting Hangzhou, we tasted the famous 'Dragon Wheel Tea'. I purchased some of the tea at great expense and then was fraught with angst when I left it in Singapore as I returned to Australia and was unable to pack the tea in my shipping as it was perishable. I was keen to experience the infamous 'Dragon Wheel' again and I was delighted when we were offered a tour of the plantation. I was pleased to see that nothing had changed in 12 years. We were still offered tea tastings and recieved the explanation about the 'growing' of the tea that remains the same. My purchase was still wrapped in what I refer to as 'plastic sticky tape' and I prayed to the Chinese gods that my purchase would make it safely through Australian customs as a 'sealed imported product'.

Then on to what my husband states with some amusement 'the silk burning experiment'. We were taken to a silk factory to listen to a interactive demonstration on silk manufacturing; including a live 'burning and stretching of silken threads' to ensure that we are witnessing the genuine article. I had forgotten most of this experience although Paul remembers it vividly. I was more amused by the 'rote' presentation of sales woman with her perfect American accent. She had the name to match 'Candy'. This is another aspect of China I had forgotten; the Americanization of every Western name by any Chinese student who has learnt English. Candy clearly carried out her job effectively as I made several purchases of silk scarves and a jacket. At the end of the day; someone in the chain (or everyone) made something out of our experience.

After several offers, of which we unfortunately declined, now to my regret, a tour of the lake, we arrived back in Hangzhou central. We demanded our first 'dumpling meal' and dumplings we got! All 48 of them! Wei Min took us to the best dumpling restaurant in Hangzhou. Although the decor resembled a McDonalds on Swantson or Pitt Street; we had dumplings that left any four star establishment in Australia to shame.

There are several things a diner must observe in China. You must dig in altogehter, with your chopsticks and make as much mess at the one time. You must speak loudly whilst you are eating and you must ignore how shabby the establishment that you are dining in is as usually it serves the best quality food. The dumpling house in Hangzhou was all of these.

After lunch we tossed up whether to take advantage of Hangzhou's unique bike system and hire a free bike for an hour round the lake, or just experience the city. We decided on the latter. We walked for a while looking at the glass fronted stores selling clothing that would never fit us and also at all the whitegoods that we could easily afford had we lived on the salaries we had in China. Finally we risked crossing a main road to climb up to one of the main Pagodas overlooking the city to get a superb view of the city. The temple was tranquilly above the busy city streets and even depicted similar scenes many centuries ago.

Finally we descended to the busy back streets to see people selling everything from plastic toys to vegetables to pets. After sampling some watermelon and witnessing an outdoor hairdresser we decided to venture back to our hotel. This proved more difficult that we imagined. It was peak hour in Hangzhou and taxis were scarce. We were decided that we would have to risk taking the local bus when the local form of transport arrived: 'The Tuk Tuk!'. You have no idea that three women can fit into one small form of transport powered by one man on a a bike that would power a very small lawn mower. You also would have to believe that small vechile can weave its way through major traffic flow in one of the busiest cities in China. However, we have lived to tell the tale!!

From the 'Workhorse of Industry' to 'Heaven': Ningbo to Hangzhou

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Sat, 26 Jun 2010 10:04:00 GMT

It has taken me a week to sit down and add to this journal. What a week, what an adventure. There are so many stories to tell. After so many years away from China I thought that there would be many changes. There are many changes but in the same respect much has remained the same: the staring, the food, the bad plumbing, the pollution and the traffic, just to name a few.

Our journey continued from Hong Kong onto to Ningbo in China. As soon as the plane touched down I was aware how much I had forgotten about the pollution in Asia. Even when we boarded the plane memories of Asia came flooding back: the small airline seats, the nochalant flight attendants and watching every passenger grabbing for a blanket as if their lives depended on it, for a very short hour flight. As we descended into Ningbo, the city was covered in permanent fog. We were picked up by a guide whose name was Lucy (all female guides seem to be called 'Lucy' nowadays. There must be many English teachers called Lucy). She was accompanied by a man called 'Scott'. Scott drove us to the Shangri La hotel, the newest in Ningbo. What the purpose for our visit to the hotel was entirely unclear but we did meet Scott's wife and young daughter who was due to join our school next year. We admired the orchids, the decor, the clean toilets and sampled their extensive tea menu before we were whipped off to the railway station to board a train for Hangzhou.

I had also forgotten how stressful boarding a train in China can be. Ningbo, for the uninitiated can be even more stressful. We joined the mass of people at the station. Firstly, we tackled security where one can watch one's bags disappear in an antiquated X-ray machine, the passenger runs through the metal detector only to meet and pray to God that you meet your bags intact on the other side. Once this is successfully tackled you then have to join the mass of humanity waiting for the train. If you were not aware of where you were travelling to or that this was the new millenium anyone could think that one was back in Communist China. The attendants stand at the steel barred gates and unsmilingly collect your ticket as the entire station surges through the gates. This includes everyone from children to the elderly, pets, vegetables, the latest electronic goods and of course one's food for the journey usually transported in leaking plastic bags.

What makes the experience all the more stressful is the fact that stations in China do not accomodate for suitcases with wheels; although everyone travels with one. Therefore it took us some time to bang our cases down the stairs and back up onto the platform. It made great entertainment for the locals to see 4 frazzled Westerners and their exasperated Chinese tour guide managing this feat with additional suitcases, backpacks, laptop cases, boxes of artwork and two bottles of duty free Australian red wine.

Once we boarded the train we became the main attraction. This is another fact about China I had forgotten. The 'staring'. In many Asian cultures 'staring' is not considered rude. It is just a case of the indvidual or individuals taking a natural curiousity in what is considered to them out of the ordinary. Therefore people will spend hours looking at foreigners trying to cope with the Asian culture, workman down holes, the peak hour traffic and of course construction of new buildings. As we struggled on to the train and found our seats, we were the main attraction for the next hour; from reading a book, texting on a phone (which everyone does in Asia) to struggling to get suitcases into luggage racks. The conversations between Wei Min and the fellow passengers were very loud and obviously clearly explained our situation. However, we did cause some concern when we had to move our luggage out of the general entrance into an area in the main cabin without disturbing any other passengers. This is made very difficult when space is at a premium.

Throughout the trip the view was somewhat typical of any Asian country. Rice paddies interdispersed with country buildings and industry. The trip from Ningbo to Hangzhou showed countryside that was quite industrial and very poor. I was surprised that the infrastructure had not improved in China over the last 12 years.

We arrived at Hangzhou, which is described as 'Heaven on Earth'. The view at the main railway station is far from this description. Masses of people arriving off a train all with wheelie suitcases and their 'food'. When Wei Min was asked was this 'peak hour' he proudly replied that 'No, this was the civilization of China!'. Again we bounced our suitcases up the stairs hoping to see our land transport. We found it in the end; a very small minivan that could squeeze all of us and our large suitcases. This was the first of our experiences that only can be recorded for posterity. After Wei Min secured the van through his 'network' we set off in what I would describe as the ultimate James Bond 'spyvan': the ubiquetous Asian van with dark windows and the lucky charms hanging from the rear vision mirror, the seats a bit worse for wear and of course no seatbelts. As it was very humid and polluted in the city, we requested to close the windows. As the van was moving through the busy traffic this was achieved not before every lever was tried including the one that opened the sliding door to the traffic! Thus with much yelling and agitation we managed to secure ourselves back in the van once again and safely make it to the door of hotel with only at least 3 attempts at a a three point turn.

Our hotel was typical of those in 'luxurious' three star accomodation hotels in China. Lots of marble, bronze beading, too cold airconditioning, very hard beds and leaky plubming. It was good to take a shower and fall into bed. Not before we had our first experience of a genuine Chinese hotpot. I had forgotten that directions in China, can be somewhat confusing, even to the locals. A simple request for 'Where is the nearest restaurant that serves the best local food?' can turn into an activity that leaves a game of 'Risk' to shame. After much crossing of busy roads and asking we found a restaurant that served 'clean' food. We found it! Our first meal in China consisted of placing raw meat and fish into a central 'soup' of boiling vegetables and chilli. Once the condiments were cooked one fished them out and ate them with rice. We did not know quite what we ate but it did satisfy the hunger that had developed over 20 hours of travelling.

Hong Kong International; Little has changed

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 11:04:00 GMT

Late yesterday evening a group of trepid travellers left Melbourne on a week teacher exchange to Shanghai. An eclectic group of travellers including myself, the Head of Mathematics and the Head of the Language department led by Wei Min our Mandarin teacher and local guide.

After leaving Asia 12 years ago, I am surprised nothing has changed. I lived in Singapore for four years teaching at the Australian school where I was very much part of the local culture. When the plane flew over Hong Kong Harbour early Monday morning. The clouds were low over the green hills and I felt a lump in my throat as we bounced down followed by most passengers jumping out of their seats before the seat belt light had switched off. In addition a man spent some time turning on his mobile phone as we were landing. And no one stopped him!!

Wei Min has not been to the new airport at Hong Kong and he is most impressed by the shiny halls, the designer stores and the excellent food court. He was also impressed that he spoke to a security guard in English and the guard replied in Mandarin (not Cantonese!). The guard knew what area of China he came from by looking at him.

Hong Kong has changed for me as well. The fact that I can sit here and write on my laptop using a wireless connection and access my mobile phone to make calls was something that was unheard of 5 years ago.

Gallery: Montreal & Toronto

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 17:53:00 GMT

Leaving on a Jet Plane....Oh! Canada! We love your stores!

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 17:40:00 GMT

The last leg of our trip. We are sitting at Pearson Arport in Toronto awaiting our flight to Los Angeles and the journey that will take us 26 hours to fly back home. Canada has been just the same as always. Friendly service in restaurants and shops and at times, dreadful coffee. Although we are still in Canada we took some time to get through the American immigration section of the airport. We are only transiting through the States but we still have to be photographed and fingerprinted and also fill out the mandatory visa waiver because we will only be in Los Angeles airport for an hour. There is a lot of waiting in queues and intense questioning. Paul was even asked to wipe his finger on his forehead to assist his fingerprinting. The immigration officer requested he do this and then said with a small smile that he couldn't believe that Paul had actually done it! The other draw back is that Tim Horton's the Canadian donut chain is on one side of the glass and the American, and distributor of less healthier food, Starbucks, is on the other. This is to the chagrin of many Canadians when they find that their last chance of what they think is a decent coffee is out of reach.

If I go back a week we were in Heathrow airport at a similar time awaiting our flight to Montreal. We arrived in Montreal in the middle of the Jazz festival. Stevie Wonder had just performed the evening before at a live concert in the city to an audience of 100,000 people. There was lots of live music in bars and in the streets.

We had been to Montreal about 10 years ago so as we only had a day we decided to explore some of the areas that we had not been to. Montreal is in the heart of the French speaking area of Canada so it gave us an opportunity to relive our linguistic abilities. However, the French language in Montreal is spoken with an accent that can make it difficult to follow at times. We ate in a restaurant called 'The Entrecote' where steak cooked French style is a speciality and the restaurant was like a French brasserie. Earlier in the day we explored the Old Centre of Montreal and then took a boat cruise on the St Lawerance River. The guide was excellent and we were able to see the sites on the Ile St Helene in the middle of the river. This had been the old site for the World Exhibition in 1967. There is a famous architectural structure that looks like a giant snowball that is now used as a Biodome. There is also a fun park on the island and many of the rides have been designed by Australians. Paul believes that the guide on the tour did not draw breath for the entire hour and a half of the trip because he conducted the tour in both English and French.

We also went up to an area called Mont Royale Plateau. Mont Royale is the highest point of Montreal. We stayed in Mont Royale on our previous visit to Montreal 10 years ago. However, our experience in the bed and breakfast we stayed in was so unusual that Kathryn cannot remember very much of her visit last time. Thankfully the bed and breakfast that we stayed in 10 years ago seems to exist no longer and the hotel we stayed in this time was very central and comfortable. However, Paul says that he thinks he has had the worst croissant of the entire trip. He thought that being in a French speaking city that bases its culture on everything French would know how to serve decent croissants. Our walk around the plateau was in one of the prettiest areas in Montreal and there were many older houses with spiral staircases leading to second storeys and they had turrets. It is quite an artistic area and there were many small stores selling artworks and designer goods.

We were successful with our accommodation in Montreal but not so with the train trip from Montreal to Toronto. Paul was looking forward to his train trip in Canada. It was the Fourth of July weekend in America and the train did not take bookings. We were herded into perhaps the only carriage that contained an amazing amount of raucous babies and toddlers. When one started crying, the rest attempted to outdo each other. In consolation we tried to eat our way through the snack trolley that came through at regular intervals. Even that was unsuccessful as they only served limited healthy foods and an oversupply of bad coffee and, as the North Americans call it, 'Pop'. The train stopped at every station possible between the two cities. So at one point even the local suburban trains in Toronto seemed to be going faster.

Last time we were in Toronto there was a SARS epidemic. This time it is Swine Flu and the Toronto Metropolitan garbage strike. The latter is more of a concern to the locals and there are many alerts for people attempting to illegally dump their 'trash'. Basically the city garbage collectors are on strike and most of the cleaning up is conducted by private contractors. So if you want to start a waste collection business, now is the time. The other concern that was thankfully abated was the Provincial Wine Distribution strike. In Toronto all alcoholic beverages are sold through a government bottle shop. (LCBO – Liquor Control Board of Ontario). This is the only place you can buy any wine or spirits. Therefore the mention of a strike occurring where these stores would not stock their wine for the Summer sent the residents of the city into a frenzy. These stores are huge warehouses and apparently the day before the strike was averted the shelves were emptying quickly. They must have known that we were arriving and we were able to drink plenty of good wine at the homes of our hosts.

Toronto was also prepared for our onslaught of shopping. As we have been to the city a few times before we have seen most of the sites. For Paul, Toronto is the only location Paul feels he can successfully fulfill his wardrobe requirements. Therefore he proceeded to buy an entire wardrobe for 2 years in one afternoon. Unfortunately, 'Gap', which is the clothing company Paul prefers to buy from has moved on and he sadly has not. However, 'The Banana' as it is known 'Banana Republic' caters for a more mature client and the sales assistants were only too happy to oblige. We were also accompanied by Paul's friend Bev, who lives in Toronto. Bev is now prepared to leave her nursing career and start a business as an advisor and personal shopper due to the success she had with Paul and his particular requirements. We have got him out of the colour blue and moved him into orange. However, he still will not adopt the slim fitting shirt. We will leave that for the next expedition in two years time. Meanwhile I am happy to write that Paul actually outdid Kathryn in the amount of clothes he purchased.

In amongst the shopping we were able to get down to St Catharines, an hour south of Toronto to visit the long term friend of Paul, Ruth Vincent-Nowe. Ruth is 90 and still enjoys the company of her family and many grand children and great grandchildren. Perhaps the highlight of the trip for Kathryn was a visit to an establishment called 'The Mandarin'. 'The Mandarin' is a North American version of the Sizzler restaurants. Paul's father would have been in his element. As the name suggests the restaurant has a large range of Asian food to choose from but also caters for those who cannot eat out without missing their pizza, fried chicken and North American food. There was even a singing lobster on the buffet which did attract Kathryn's interest.

In Toronto we took the opportunity to visit the new Royal Ontario Museum as well as the Art Gallery of Ontario which both have been refurbished by contemporary architects. The styles of the buildings are similar and provide an unusual aspect to the buildings. The Museum has what is called a 'crystal' installed on the outside which provides extra floor space and a profile that appears exactly as it suggests. We were interested to hear that they have had to install special heating pads on the interior of the glass panels to stop ice forming on the glass in Winter. The ice can slide off in sheets and do considerable damage to people passing by. The Ontario Museum of Art has an exterior designed by the same architect who designed the Guggenheim in Bilbao, Frank Gehry. Once again you can see the influence of Gehry's childhood growing up in New Brunswick as the exterior looks like a giant fish covered in silver scales. The museum had an exhibition of The Dead Sea Scrolls which was fascinating.

So we have come full circle. By ending in Canada it feels as though we are slowly returning to our lives back home in Australia. After reading through the entries I have made over the last 12 weeks, what started as a short cut to keep all our family and friends informed, has become a regular manner of recording my thoughts on our experiences. If you asked me what was my favourite location or experience I could not pin point any one situation. Twelve weeks of travel is a long time to be away from home and now that I am sitting at my desk finalising this last entry it feels as though I have never been away. Often there are circumstances that Paul and I have been in where a statement or the action of another has prompted our memories of our trip. It has been very fulfilling where there has not been a time when we have not enjoyed the experience. Though very tired and jetlagged from a 31 hour trip home, we are busily planning our next trip to France and finding new places to visit.

I felt I was really home when we stood on the train platform at Brisbane airport waiting for a train to transfer us to the domestic terminal. The sun was coming up and the colours of the landscape were truly Australian; the olives and pinks that are familiar to many of us. The air was crisp and the silence was broken by that inevitable and identifiable Australian accent announcing the next train. We joked with the taxi driver in Melbourne on the way home that his Global Positioning System spoke English but used the same accent used by all GPS systems around the world. Maybe we are all linked by one large GPS, you would never have to travel anywhere. Just sit at your computer and the voice will direct you anywhere you desire.

Gallery: London

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Sat, 4 Jul 2009 08:46:00 GMT

London Calling.....The Sales are on!!!!

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Sat, 4 Jul 2009 08:34:00 GMT

Paul and I are now at Heathrow awaiting our flight from London to Montreal. Paul is very excited because a) we are at one of the world's newest air terminals and b) we have been upgraded. We always have loved London and our 5 days here have not disappointed. We have had a bit interest to satisfy us both; from riding the Underground and the Transport Museum to the Tate Britain and Tate Modern. Most significantly we arrived the day before the start of the annual midyear sales at the big department stores such as Harrods and Selfridges. Kathryn definitely knows how to plan her travelling around shopping.

London is still full of surprises. Firstly the weather was fantastic. London is in the middle of a heatwave and the past four days have all been over 30 degrees. For us it isn't too bad but for most Londoners you would think that we were living constantly in Bangkok. They even tried to state in most newspaper headlines that the temperatures were actually hotter than Bangkok. We all know that Britain is desperately trying to prove it is the centre of the universe and this was a strange way of doing it.

Our accommodation was another great surprise. It was located near Paddington station, nearer than we thought when we got into the cab at the station. The driver was most put out that he could only take us 2 blocks after having waited in the cab queue for a job for 45 minutes. We had a one bedroom apartment in a typical Bayswater street. We found that apparently only newly renovated it was already showing signs of rising damp and cracked paintwork. We also received a daily running commentary in either Swedish or Polish (we are not sure which) from our downstairs neighbours who seemed to crammed into a basement flat. For those of you who have ever rented in London you will know what these older buildings are like. It is like experiencing a tenement in New York or university college. However, it had cable TV and we were able to catch up on watching some movies in English and Wimbledon tennis live. We were also able to cook our own meals which enabled us to let ourselves loose on Harrods, Selfridges and Marks and Spencers' food halls. It also gave us a chance to have a rest after the last couple of weeks.

Paul always says that being in London is really like being on holidays because it is so familiar. However, since we have been here last there have been some changes to the city particularly down in the Southbank area. We walked along this area several times and went across the Millennium Bridge to St. Pauls. London. We experienced a trip on the London eye on a sunny day! Paul even acted as tour guide for a group of very lost East coast Americans who couldn't find Tower Bridge or Buckingham Palace. I think they thought he was British along with the poor cashier at Kew Gardens who asked him if he would like to make a donation to the gardens as a UK taxpayer. I don't know if she flattered Paul more with the glimpse of British residency or the tax paying part. South bank had also been transformed as part of an exhibition at the Hayward Gallery. All the tree trunks were wrapped in polka dots, Paul can explain that this is part of a contemporary installation by a Japanese artist who is fascinated with polka dots as it was one of the many contemporary art exhibitions he has visited over the past 10 weeks. He is planning on writing a book on contemporary art installations and basing it on the work of Louise Bourgeois and Mark Rothko (to appreciate this point you must read my other stories of our travels in Madrid & Bilbao.)

Part of the purpose of our visit to London was to go to the Tate Modern gallery along Southbank. It had a show of contemporary works from its collection formed in a series of artist rooms. There were a lot of children in the gallery all sketching works by the various artists. It therefore made it a bit like a busman's holiday. Paul particularly enjoyed the rope installations, which consisted of coiled rope on the floor or the wood chips and rags piled in the corner as part of the Arte Povera installation. We did both enjoy the Futurist exhibition at the gallery and Paul was so inspired he actually made the suggestion to visit the Tate Britain the next day.

We also viewed the Summer Exhibition at the Royal Academy. This show has been running for hundreds of years. The walls of the most esteemed art college and gallery in the country are hung with up to 1200 artworks. These are all for sale and they range from well known 'Royal Academians' to artists from the casual summer classes. It was very interesting to see the range and styles of work from the very highly skilled to the downright awful. Some works were infact so awful I wouldn't even put them in a student art exhibition. Even more poignant is that the works are selected from applications from the students to hang in the exhibition. I am sure the selection process is very political. You can just imagine the relatives of one artist buying the work to hang on their walls. I did admire the work of the oldest Royal Academian, a woman artist of 105. Although her still lifes were a bit misty, probably the concern of failing eyesight, they still showed great expression. This was very evident when you viewed the works of Contemporary artist Tracey Emin who is more know for her bad behaviour than her art making.

Paul also enjoyed returning to the Rothko Room at the Tate Britain and we returned there at his insistence. Works by Turner have been hung alongside works by artist Mark Rothko as although Turner painted 100 years before Rothko and the Abstract Expressionists his work is seen as having an enormous influence on these artists. When we visited this room 12 years ago, which is a favourite of mine, I had to send Paul out because he was laughing too much. This time he glanced in and proceeded to find a Turner that would quench his mirth. However, this didn't last long as I found him observing a group of primary students having a lesson in front of a Turner. He was particularly amused by the little girl, when she was asked to come up for a title of the painting she was looking at she gave it the title “Water High Street” the work was infact a canal in Venice. At least she got the comparison correct. Paul also enjoyed viewing the archeological installation by the Chapman Brothers (another group of contemporary British artists) this was a room of carved indigenous statues with a twist. Sprinkled amongst the traditional carvings of Papua New Guinea and Samoa were carvings of Macdonalds restaurant statues out of wood including Ronald himself and the Hamburgler. I don't think Paul remembers the earlier works of the Chapman Brothers which consisted of decapitated bodies strung from trees in a translation of the work of Spanish artist Francisco Goya. I think he might of taken such a liking to the work.

As I mentioned the sales were on and we risked Oxford Circus on the first day of the sales just to experience the atmosphere. There were more people than one saw at the Olympic Games in Sydney squashed into the street. However, Kathryn's desire for shopping prevailed and she would have made her father proud to battle the the women at clothing store Banana Republic to score 2 shirts for the price of one. My father has a policy of always attempting the Boxing Day sales on the first day and I couldn't let him down! Over the week we managed to enter Selfridges, Harrods and Liberty to pick up some goods. So next time you see Kathryn she will resemble a designer celebrity from Top Shop.

We had afternoon tea in Fortnum & Mason and we have retitled it 'Fortune & Mason'. Sadly the store has adopted a more contemporary edge and gone are the little old ladies sipping tea and eating scones and plates of cucumber sandwiches. The closest we got to that experience was the tea (definitely good) and a plate of Iberian Ham and 2, what Paul said, were the stalest scones he has come across. Perhaps all the little old ladies have defected to Harrods.

Speaking of Harrods, that too has changed somewhat. Enter Harrods doors now and you would think that you have entered a high class shopping centre in Dubai or Abu Dhabi. There are throngs of black shrouded women who we saw clawing over designer handbags and clothing. We made a bee line for the toy and children's section now we have a new motive in our shopping plans to buy some items for at that time my unknown niece or nephew. The toy section as per usual does not disappoint with every shape and size of bear, Sesame Street toy, Disneytoy or animal that barks, mews, quacks, roars and gallops, jumps, waddles and crawls. You can buy anything from a Pingu Penguin that speaks in Italian and blows Rasberries to a miniature Tyrannosaurus Rex that you sit on whilst it moves its head, blinks and roars. Paul had to restrain Kathryn from spending the 800 pounds on this item.

Influenced by the extravagance of Harrods toy department we booked tickets to see 'Priscilla' The Musical in the West End. We know that the show has run in Sydney and Melbourne but we never got the opportunity to see it. As we have been away from home now for nearly 3 months the spectacle and costumes of the production were fantastic as was the lead played by Jason Donovan. He has come a long way since Neighbours and playing the role of a drag queen he did have some quips about Kylie Minogue. We also too may have been away from home for so long that we appreciate anything that relates to Australia, how tacky it may be. The production is fantastic for its costumes and lighting and we thoroughly enjoyed it.

On the other hand we saw '39 Steps' which is a comedy based on the Alfred Hitchcock thriller. The play is carried out by only four actors with very inventive movements in acting out the drama. At times they play up to 2 characters in one scene with quick costume changes. It was short and light and was worth the experience of seeing a bit of theatre in the West End.

Sadly during our time in London we failed to see any member of the Royal family. Infect the closest we got was to see the statue of Diana and Dodi that Mr Fayed has installed in the foyer of Harrods. Everywhere you go there are little memories of Diana so we think that the current royal family is trying desperately to make amends in areas that cover anything from Children's Playgrounds through to glass houses at Kew Gardens. I think it is quite ironic that the glass house at Kew named after Diana is primarily a cactus house. At the time we were in London the papers were publicising that the queen had overspent on her royal budget by 5 million pounds and that the taxpayer was going to have to pay the difference. Maybe that was why Paul was asked for the donation at the Kew Gardens gate. We also saw numerous advertisements on the tube for Windsor Palace to visit and experience the 'real residence' of the queen. It didn't seem to make much difference that she was in Scotland for most of June and July.

So it is now that we farewell Europe and fly to Canada. There really is no change here. Same monach, different country. However, we do know that the food is better. Perhaps there is more shopping to be done as Kathryn slowly returns home.

Gallery: Bilbao

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 05:19:00 GMT

Spiders, Rockstars and 'China Men' in Bilbao

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 05:06:00 GMT

We are sitting on a plane and leaving Europe behind us. Paul was very disappointed to make his last high speed train trip from Madrid to Bilbao on Wednesday. We were impressed that we got breakfast on the train. This is unusual for Spain for, after 2 weeks, we have finally worked out that the Spanish really don't have breakfast. In fact we thought it had taken us 2 weeks to work out the correct time to eat dinner, only to discover in Bilbao that we still hadn't worked it out.

Travelling to Bilbao by train, we realised that we were coming into some unique countryside for Spain. In contrast to the rest of the country, the city is surrounded by mountains and most the suburbs are spread out on hills surrounding the main part of the city. The vegetation is surprisingly green and lush. The houses are different and look like small chalets you would find in Switzerland, Germany or Austria. This region of Spain is Basque country and it has had a long history in a fight for independence from the rest of Spain. The people speak a different dialect that is more like an Eastern European language and they also appear more Eastern European. Another unique aspect of the trip was the train we were travelling on slowed to a mere 60 km/h rather than the 300 km/h we were used to travelling. We wound our way through the hills and the phone conversation I was having with my father in Australia had to be terminated and restarted several times due to lost connections. I had to explain that this was Spain, I was on a train and I wasn't being a temperamental 42 year old.

For the first and last time on our trip I was able to make the 200 metre trek from the station to our hotel. We have both sworn that we will never take packs on an European trip again. We have received some odd stares from people passing by; we are not quite sure if it is our age or our appearance that is causing the interest. Our hotel, another unique 2 star accommodation was in one of the cobbled streets of the old town. It did appear to look like a Swiss chalet, painted bright blue and yellow with balconies and flowerpots overlooking the street. The interior was crammed with unusual artifacts including a flock of huge paper mache sheep. We think they were supposed to contribute to the atmosphere of being in a Basque weavers workshop. There was also some very interesting attempts a 'non-objective art' in our room, including a board with an arrangement of nails hammered into it and a wooden ruler framed on the wall. However, the receptionist was very accommodating, chasing away a gaggle of children who were sitting on a couch in the cramped foyer playing hand held Nintendo games. She explained it was the first day of the school holidays for Summer. We explained that it was the same the world over.

Our main objective to visit Bilbao was to see the Guggenheim Museum of Art. It has been a long held dream of mine to see this building since it was first opened in 2000. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this building you may have seen photographs of it down the end of a narrow European street. It is a building that looks like a giant twist of aluminium shavings. The building was designed by Canadian architect Frank Gehry and has a lot of symbolism. It sits on the edge of the river and much of the landscape surrounding it has been renovated or built to fit in with the architecture. There are several bridges that have been built over the river that are graceful examples of contemporary design. The building also changes colour at different times of the day because of the light reflection. Outside, at regular intervals are art works such as fog sculptures and flames shooting up. I know that flame throwers are fairly standard occurrences outside the Crown Casino in Melbourne, but the fog sculpture by the same artist that is installed at the National Gallery in Canberra has never worked. There are walkways around the building so you can view it from all different angles. In front of the building, at the edge of the water, is a huge sculpture of a spider by French American artist Louise Bourgois. Paul saw an exhibition of her work when he was in New York and she now has become one of his favorite artists to question, next to Mark Rothko. The work is entitled 'Maman' and Bourgois work relates to her relationship with her mother and the men in her life. You can understand why Paul 'loves' this work so much.

The other side of the building has a work of Art that appeals much more to Paul's sentiments. The American artist Jeff Koons has installed his work 'Puppy'. 'Puppy' known as 'El Poop' in Spanish is a sculpture of a dog covered in blooming flowers. The flowers are growing and are embedded into a wire mesh that is watered regularly. The sculpture is as tall as the building and was installed initially in Sydney outside the Museum of Contemporary Art as part of a Jeff Koons exhibition. It is now permanently at the Guggenheim. This adds another attraction for visitors to the building. It appears that a giant sculpture of a dog created from flowers with the irreverant title of 'Poop' attracts the Spanish. Maybe they fail to see the contradiction in their title and the scent of the work. This is what Koons intended in the titling of the piece in Spanish and what contemporary art provokes. Prior to the Guggenheim being built there was not a lot to see in Bilbao apparently. The museum has revitalised the city and there is a lot of public sculpture and buildings that are now situated in the city. Bilbao has now become a city for conferences and exhibitions. The idea of flower gardens as sculpture has definitely caught on and there was an exhibition of designed art installation gardens scattered around the city that were also very interesting to look at. They combined industrial materials such as steel, wood and glass with plants. One garden even had acacias, bottle brushes and kangaroo paw growing.

I had heard that the exhibitions in the Guggenheim was not as impressive as the exterior architecture. Despite the 3^rd floor being closed for exhibition installation the other two floors provided some interesting interpretations of contemporary art. I filled with dread when I saw that there was a floor devoted to Video Art from the collection as I considered that Paul would not be entirely enthralled to watch 2 hours of an artist pretending he was Kurt Cobain, the lead singer of the rock group Nivana performing from the grave, or watch Japanese artist Mori Murakuri filmed lying in a glass bubble in the middle of Times Square for 10 hours or a group of Chinese factory workers performing ballet in their factory in provincial China, and what made it more daunting was the fact that I would have to explain the meaning of it all to him. You will also have to read my postscript for further significance regarding one of these works. I can barely understand some of this work myself, let alone explain it. However, there was the usual helpful audio guide with the well travelled English lady with the BBC voice that has been with us throughout the galleries of Europe to explain it to him. He did particularly enjoy the 'contemporary moving portrait' of Zandi the Rio Madrid soccer player filmed playing a match against Manchester United. The artist has shot a full game of footage of the one player on several cameras and then edited it down to a 2 ½ hour feature film. Thankfully Paul wasn't that enthralled that we had to stay the 2 hours.

On the second floor was an exhibition of Contemporary artists Cai Guo-Qiang who was educated in China under the cultural revolution but has been living in Japan and the USA since 1985. QJiang's work is quite unique as he creates large installations using gun powder. He was also responsible, unsurprisingly, for the firework presentations at the Opening and Closing ceremonies at the Beijing Olympics. It was interesting to see videos of him creating his works with the assistance of an army of workers. He pours the gunpowder onto the canvas, lights it and then everyone runs and stamps the flames out. To watch the documentaries without knowing this information you would think it was just a group of Chinese factory workers dangerously experimenting in the making of pyrotechnic displays. Perhaps something I should try with my students. The artist had also created several special installations for the Guggenheim exhibition, including a room full of life size clay figures based on a famous work used by the Communist party as propaganda in China. More interesting in than the work was the comment we overheard from two middle aged Australian ladies, clearly visiting a contemporary art gallery for the first time; “Look Beryl, there's a room full of China Men, look you can tell by their eyes”. They were clearly on a whirlwind tour as no sooner than we heard the Australian accent, they were off down the corridor scurrying to the safety of their tour bus.

The last hours of our time in Europe was filled with a series of odd events. We decided to post a number of books and documents home that were weighing down our luggage. We successfully did this by conducting the whole event at the post office in 2 languages which were not Spanish; French and English with a postal worker who was from the Congo. In all we sent 8 kg of books home, now our packs are much lighter and Paul is prepared for his shopping sprees in London and Toronto.

We also tried to dine at what we thought was a respectable hour in Bilbao. Eating in this city is slightly different to the rest of Spain. Tapas bars are a feature of the city and you can get food in small piles and a drink any time of the day or night. Including breakfast and very early morning. The first night we went to a recommended bar in the square of the city. The waiter decided what we were eating and proceeded to bring out four dishes in quick succession and the whole meal was finished in 20 minutes. This was completed at 9.30 pm, early for Spain. We looked around only to find that a bar that was packed 20 minutes previously was empty and the wait staff were packing up around us. So the following evening we decided to eat at 8 pm at the next restaurant at the square recommended by the hotel. We sat down to order, only to be told that we were too early. The bar was packed but there was a queue of diners waiting for the bar to clear so they could be seated to eat. However, the food was fantastic and I had the best piece of fish I have had in Europe. Bilbao is right near the Atlantic ocean so the seafood is a specialty.

So now after 4 hours leaving Bilbao by plane we are flying back over it again. Our flight has taken us from Bilbao to Madrid where we stopped over for an hour, and now we are on our way to London. Paul is marvelling at the fact that we are travelling probably slower by air than we were on the train. I want to know then why trains don't fly. We have also realised why train travel in Spain is so good as plane travel tends to be somewhat disorganised. You also get service on the train in Spain, as what you get on a plane elsewhere and on a plane you get no service as you do on a train in Australia. It is also quicker on the train.

Therefore after letting Paul loose on the galleries of Spain he is about to let me loose in the London transport museum and any other aviation or transport shrine he can discover in the next week. We will be on to eating fish and chips and Indian food and can farewell the tasty breads, olives and cheese of the continent. Adios Spain! Good morning Britain!

P.S. On arriving in London we learned that Michael Jackson had died on Thursday 25 May. At the time of his death we were watching an artist's footage of the singer performing the moonwalk on deliberately disintegrating film footage. It was screened in the same footage as that of Kurt Cobain and the lead singer of the 1980s band Joy Division. At that point the only singer of the 3 alive was Jackson and therefore the artist was making a point that he had survived all these years yet the other 2 artists had both died under uncertain circumstances. The artist will now have to update his work accordingly. We thought it quite ominous.

Gallery: Madrid

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 07:16:00 GMT

The Metropolis that is Madrid

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 07:02:00 GMT

Madrid is a very different city to the other Spanish cities we have visited. It is a very new and modern city but still has some very grand buildings lining its main wide avenues. Madrid is also full of small plazas where there are numerous bars and cafes where you can sit enjoy the sunshine and watch the world pass by. It is a very Mediterranean city that reminds me a bit of Sydney without the harbour. Madrid also hosts one of the largest art galleries in the world; The Prado. There are also numerous other galleries displaying what I believe may be the best chronological representation of art of the Western world.

We decided to have a bit of luxury in Madrid and upgraded our accommodation to a 4 star hotel. We were after some cool air, a bathroom that was bigger than a cupboard and room fittings that were newer than the something that may have proceeded Franco's revolution. We also had to sort out an issue of cancelled credit cards. The bank had sent new cards to our home in Melbourne when it changed all the credit cards in a loyalty program to a Frequent Flyer program. Paul had not been notified the cards had arrived. Hence after a little embarrassment paying an account at one hotel with not one but two cards, and a swallowed card in an ATM, we contacted the bank and they issued Paul a new card in Madrid. However, the luxury of four star comes with a great cost and our newly issued credit card is already panting. Paul decided to get some washing done and I think the bill has cured him of ever getting laundry done in a hotel again. After some negotiation about 'street noise' in rooms and 'a room with a view'; again using no English and lots of hand gestures we had a lovely room that overlooked the Paseo del Prado (the name of the avenue suggests what building is the main feature on this street.

Our first afternoon we spent exploring the centre of Madrid. We walked the city following a tour in our guide book of the main plazas of Madrid. This gave us a good overview of the city and its various 'barrios' or areas. It also took us past the grand buildings of Madrid including the Palacio Real (Royal Palace), Plaza Mayor (Main plaza) and the Plaza de Villa (city square). Each of these plazas has its own character and is lined with buildings that are unique to its character. Madrid appears to be a lot quieter than Barcelona and there were less tourists around. Most of the people on Sunday afternoon seemed to be the local people of Madrid (Madrilenos) out enjoying their Sunday afternoon. Again there were lots of families and children gathered together at the tables in the cafes laughing and chatting. Like most of Spain most people do not have breakfast but tend to enjoy a long lunch and a late dinner so we were not out of place to be eating our first meal of the day in a cafe in Plaza de Santa Ana.. (The plaza of the Angels) which I think is the prettiest plaza in the city. For dinner that night we even tried something different for Spain and had a meal in a Thai restaurant. I think the owners were quite shocked to have two people ordering food and speaking English. What was more unusual for us was that the Thai waiter only spoke Thai and Spanish. Paul also had a brief conversation with a Chinese shopkeeper in Mandarin as he found he spoke more Chinese than Spanish and the shopkeeper did not speak English. All to purchase a bottle of water.

We planned our next 2 days in Madrid carefully as like any city in Europe most of the museums and galleries are closed on Monday. However, usually one is open and the Reina Sophia (the gallery named after Queen Sophia; the Spanish love their royalty more than the British and even more than the Americans would ever hope to) was open. This museum is the home of Picasso's famous painting Guernica. It would be the one painting I remember most from my first lessons in Art History in Year 8 so to see it was very moving. The symbolism in the work makes it even more poignant. Picasso painted the work as an expression of his angst over the merciless bombing of the Basque town of Guernica during the Spanish civil war. Picasso was living in Paris at the time and the painting has had an amazing journey to get back to its real 'Spanish home'. I spent some time watching the groups of school students sitting on the floor in front of the work wondering if they realised how fortunate they were to see one of the greatest works of Modern Art at such a young age. It is every Art teacher's dream to give a lesson in front of that work.

Paul thought we would not have enough time in Madrid to go to the Palacio Real but we managed it as most public museums in Spain do not close until 8pm. The palace has 2800 rooms, not enough time to see all of them and most are closed to the public. We did have a great tour of the sections of the palace that are open to the public. The tour guide and his delivery of the commentary was more interesting than the rooms at times. issued the whole tour with a deadpan expression, including when he made a 'dry' joke about one of the rooms. The rooms are very sumptuous with an explosion of Rococo and Baroque decoration. Paul visited the palace many years ago and wanted me to experience the clock room, where there were housed about 100 clocks that chimed in succession. He wanted me to experience what he feels it is like if you stay with my parents and the many clocks that my mother has collected chime at odd hours. To his disappointment, the clocks have been split up and put in all the rooms of the palace, so it is still like being at home but you experience the chiming in every room not just one. The guide also pointed out that there were several dining rooms as you need to have a dining room per course that you eat in Spain. He also told us that some rooms had modern appointments such as telephones which were not installed at the time of the reign of Prince Alfonso in 1700. He also told us, in his dry sense of humour, that these phones were not working, although they were prominently displayed. Quite surprising really; I wondered if they had installed the internet yet. This is possibly why the royal family do not live in this palace any more, apparently they live in a more modest residence elsewhere in the city.

I warned Paul that the next day would be fairly heavy going in terms of his art education. I must point out that I have travelled on numerous planes and trains in my married life and have never really complained. However, by 4 pm I was feeling the overload myself. We started at the Prado Museum. The museum is renown for its collection of Renaissance Art and the works of the Spanish artists Goya and Valesquez. I learned that when the Prado brought out some works by Velasquez to put on exhibition in 1990 it was only for a limited time. As so many people in Madrid wanted to see the works that when the Prado closed the exhibition 4 months later, people protested into the night outside the Prado and it had to keep its doors open until there was no queue left. Therefore the exhibition ran non stop for 2 – 3 days. You do begin to feel the overload when you walk along the long galleries lined with at least 20 different versions of Madonna and Child by various Renaissance artists that you only see in text books: Rafael, Rubens, Titian and Tinteretto. There is also a lot of Dutch and Flemish works including the famous “Garden of Earthly Delights” by Hieronomous Bosch, the first known work of erotic nature known in the world of Western Art. This work was being intently scrutinsed by a large group of Japanese tourists on tour. I wondered if they were getting an interpretation of the real meaning of the work; perhaps they were, hence their intense concentration.

Two famous works by Goya; “The 2^nd and 3^rd of May” were on display. These were works created by Goya towards the end of his life when he was no longer the favoured court painter of the kings and was living in self exile in France. Goya had gone deaf and was in ill health, the works, like Picasso's Guernica, are an expression of Goya's angst over the treatment of the Spanish people by the invasion of Napoleon's army. The works depict events that occurred in Madrid over 2 days and the expression on the faces of the figures are more moving to see 'in the flesh'. The works have just been restored and the years of black soot that had formed on the surface has been removed to show the vibrant colours that Goya used in the work. You can also see fortunately, some of Goya's court paintings he completed as commissions. You do really then appreciate the brushwork and use of light that has made him such a master.

The works of the famous painter Velasquez are also on display. These works by this artist are the ones that caused such a riot in the 1990s. Velasquez was also a court painter and his most famous work is entitled 'Las Maninas' and depicts the royal princess Infantina surrounded by her entourage. Velasquez also had enough confidence as an artist to include himself in the image, an action that was unprecedented at the time. However, the work is known for its use of perspective and Velasquez we a master of depicting expressions on the faces of his sitters. They look out of the image quite startled. Maybe they are startled by the amount of Japanese tourists observing them intently.

Finally we spent our last hours in Madrid at the Thyssen-Bornemiza Museum. This is a private collection that matches the Prado in its size and range of works. The museum is all the more interesting because it is actually two collections of works; one by the Baron von Thyssen-Bornemiza, a German-Hungarian magnate and also his wife, who is a leading Spanish actress and Miss Espana, who made her fame by first marrying a Lex Barker, who made the infamous Tarzan movies. You can really see her interest in art styles exhibited in the range of works she has collected; lots of colour, works from the Expressionist era and obscure North American artists. It seems to really reflect her taste and that of a wealth woman with a lot of money and perhaps more than a bit of panache. She seems to have taken over her collecting abilities from her late husband, if anything at all.

Paul and I are now 'audio guide' experts and we think we probably could start our own company in competition to those in most European galleries. Our choice of commentators would be more of the flavour of the country of the gallery we are in. We think that the same English and American women must travel all over Europe recording their voices in every gallery. We will test this out at our final destination in Spain, Bilbao. As many of you know the feature of Bilbao is the Guggenheim museum; as the Guggenheim family is American maybe the commentary in the audio guide will have a German or Russian accent?

Gallery: The Pilgrimage to Avila.

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 03:57:00 GMT

"Let nothing frighten you or worry you" In the footsteps of Santa Theresa de Avila

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 03:44:00 GMT

Paul wanted me to title this entry as “Let nothing worry you nor frighten you” which is a saying of St Theresa, the patron saint of Avila, the school at which he teaches and the city which we have just spent 2 days. This statement should not be taken lightly, along with the promise Paul made to me that Avila would be the quietest town in which we would spend time in Spain. He really has been deluded by the Saint. Although Avila appeared a sleepy town, enclosed in medieval city walls. We arrived at 4pm and the saint definitely goes to bed at 10 pm. 10 pm was approximately the time we ate last night and we went to bed but the city didn't. There was a bar situated opposite our hotel that pumped music until 2 am and then all the young people in the city proceeded to drink and party in the street until 5 am. Luckily our hotel was quite small and with lots of hand gesturing and little English we were able to move rooms to the back of the hotel for a quieter night of sleep tonight.

Paul also assured me that there were some things to see in Avila and we would probably have a lot of free time. Again, Avila is full of surprises; a bit like the school in Australia at times. There is a lot to see in Avila. The city is one of the oldest medieval towns in the country and is also the highest in altitude. Therefore the weather was a lot cooler and more pleasant. The town is enclosed by walls which when you climb give you a commanding view of the plains surrounding the town, you see it is really quite isolated. The city is a maze of mediaeval streets with a cathedral or basilica every corner you turn. It is also the birthplace of St Theresa, one of the most important woman in the Catholic church so you would understand how the city is a mecca of relics and a huge religious supermarket of St Theresa icons for those fervent Catholics or teachers at the school dedicated to the Saint.

I must apologise to those people who work with Paul or any other Catholics for my irreverence throughout this story but the two days we have spent here has opened up a whole new dimension of culture for me that I have never really experienced. Having been brought up in the Congregationalist and later Uniting Church, I did work for a catholic school for two years but never quite was fully educated in Catholic intrisincies. However, there are some similarities between the Congregationalists and the Carmelite Order of nuns which St Theresa founded; that of simplicity and abstinence. Many of the churches and monasteries in the town are devoted to St Theresa. You can visit the place where she was born, see a replica of her nuns cell, paintings devoted to her, sculptures devoted to her, chapels devoted to her, gardens devoted to her and there are even cakes devoted to the saint. The main convent where St Theresa lived has been transformed into a museum in her honour. There is a shop where you can purchase every type of religious artefact related to the saint. After visiting this museum in the morning we found yet another museum and convent devoted to the saint. We also discovered a further myriad of rooms with items that belonged to the saint including her coffin in which she was 'laid out' in Avila before being transferred for burial to St Tomas, another religious Spanish city. There was her saddle in which she rode, her log pillow for praying, a facsimile of her writings and even her clavicle bone; both being not Catholic we are debating whether this is the ring finger of St Theresa, that may have been cut off after her death of her clavicle bone. I am sure someone will be able to tell us after reading this. You would think that we would know after all the religious education we have had over the last 2 days.

For those of you who know little about St Theresa, and I admit I knew little before today, she is allegedly to be a mystic who had visions. She also used to levitate when she had these visions from 'Our lord'. Avila is supposed to be a centre of mysticism. What that is, I am not quite sure but we did make quite a few jokes over the last 2 days about the levitative skills of St Theresa. St Theresa was also supposed to get her inspiration via a dove which sat on her shoulder passing on the word of Christ. We didn't see many doves but there are an enormous amount of cranes in the city which have made enormous nests on the spires and bell towers of the numerous churches. St Theresa also wrote with a feather fallen from a dove. I found a feather on the footpath today and wondered if it was a message from the saint. As for mysticism and levitation, I don't think these are necessarily performmed by religious devotees in Avila today, more like the local young people and young Americans experiencing their first bit of freedom since graduating from college. There are an enormous amount of nuns and priests visiting the town and you can spot them wandering around (or maybe floating) in groups.

For Paul, visiting Avila was like taking on a pilgrimage and the photos I have taken over the last 2 days depict his journey. It tends to read more like a drama, with Paul as the main protagonist; we have Paul ascending the wall of the city, visiting the museum, the cathedral, the monastery and the convent. We even got the obliging curator of the small St Theresa convent to allow Paul to take the keys to open the chapel of St Theresa. We were surprised that for such an important woman in the Catholic church some of these sites were relatively uncrowded. Also we discovered that little information is given in English. The Spanish tend to assume that everyone speaks their language even when you approach them in English. It also surprised me how there is so much income generated by selling 'tacky' items devoted to one person. If you are an Avila teacher, watch out Paul has the item for you he has brought back as a souvenir.

Avila is not only devoted to St Theresa. There are many churches, monasteries and basilicas founded by other saints and religious orders. We enjoyed viewing the Basilica of San Vincente on the outskirts of the city walls and the Monastery of Sante Thomas with its numerous cloisters. The latter was used by the kings of Spain as a retreat. There is also a large church with a choir at the back. As I mentioned many of the instructions are often not in English and somehow we stumbled into the front of the church, appearing behind the priest and altar in the middle of a Saturday evening mass. We slinked down the side aisle and pretended that we were visiting the many side chapels in the church. The service had only just begun and a choir was singing in the overhead choir. Apart from our initial mistake the experience was very moving.

After a week in the country we have finally mastered the culture and art of eating meals. It has taken us this long to work out that many restaurants have a bar and a restaurant that both serve food. Fortunately for us we discovered that the bar serves the same food in smaller quantities than a formal restaurant and we have been able to rescue our digestive systems. Avila is famous for its veal steaks, one which Paul tried this evening. The steak was nearly the leg of a small calf and it would take the apatite of two to eat it. The name Avila is certainly associated with food and perhaps the enjoyment of food and many dinners that the staff at Avila school in Melbourne have may come from this initiative. The Americans on the table behind us were quite shocked when their half eaten meal was taken away and disposed of. Apparently there is no word for 'doggy bag' in Spanish. At 11 pm the bars and restaurants are still filled with families eating and drinking and laughing. There seem to be an enormous amount of young families in the city and the children will play around the table and in the square whilst their parents eat. There lives seem happy and relaxed and they are well loved by everyone passing by. One restaurant we witnessed the waiter heat up the jars of baby food for the child and produce them on a white plate with a spoon and napkin.

So at 8.55 tomorrow morning we are off to the capital, Madrid. We now understand that any local train in Spain one must book; and we spent an hour at the railway station this morning doing just that. Maybe with our enlightenment from Santa Theresa we will levitate to Madrid in under an hour. As for the visions, I am hoping for a 4 star hotel for a change.

Gallery: Cordoba

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 00:15:00 GMT

Fans & Flamenco in Castilla Cordoba

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 00:05:00 GMT

Another high speed train, another Spanish city. We arrived in Cordoba earlier this week. The first view of the city appeared that Cordoba was like any other Mediterranean city, palm trees and modern buildings, until the taxi arrived in the old centre of the city. The old city of Cordoba, established by the moors, is based around the 'Mosquita' (pronounced like mosquito). The streets are a series of winding lanes faced by whitewashed buildings with black iron balconies. You would think that the whole centre is some part of a Disneyland set but it is a working city. The lane ways are only wide enough to fit one taxi, just.

Our accommodation was at the Hotel Lola, which was described as an 'artwork in itself'; it also amusingly reminds me of a Peter Allan ballad. The hotel literally was both, the three floors were covered in paintings and there were antiques and stuffed cushions everywhere. Most buildings such as this in Spain have a central courtyard with a skylight. We were on the top floor and our room even had a terrace looking over the roof tops to the tower of the Mosquita. However, it was impossible to sit outside as it was 45 degrees. Yes, for those of you in 5 degree temperatures in Australia at present I know you would find it unbelievable. It is unbelievable how any one could withstand this heat for days on end, but the Spanish do by spending a lot of the day sleeping, as we quickly discovered. The hotel receptionists, of which there were only 2, one morning and one evening, as there were only 8 rooms, were extremely helpful and uniquely Spanish. From their level of excitement when they learned where we came from, I don't think many people from Australia stay there, I wonder what the reception will be like in Avila.

The first night we went for dinner we went what we thought was relatively late; 9pm. We were given a card to entitle us to a free drink at a restaurant owned by the hotel. We have discovered that many businesses in Cordoba are mini empires with several restaurants, hotels, bars and cafes combined. If you go to one business they recommend you eat or stay at their connecting hotel or restaurant. Infact the whole of the old city is a maze of such businesses. We entered the restaurant to find it empty; we were very, very early. They happily served us but as we were leaving at about 10.30 pm most families were turning up to eat. We also discovered that restaurants are heavily overstaffed by waiters who seem to just hang around gossiping. Usually someone will speak some English and we manage to order. Sometimes we get what we think we ordered, sometimes not and sometimes not at all.

We spent 2 days in Cordoba exploring the old city. Tristan, Paul's 21 year nephew, told us that we were spending too long in Cordoba and there was not a lot to do. This is why Barcelona is full of backpackers, Sevilla and Malaga are popular places for partying if you are 18 and a place like Cordoba is fairly tranquil. We started with a tour of the Mosquita, the Alkazbar palace and the old Jewish quarters of the city. The gardens of the palace were superb with palm trees and the pools that the moors were famous for creating. The palace was used for a number of purposes over the centuries; as a residence for Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand as well as a prison during the Spanish inquisition.

The Mosquita was the highlight of Paul's trip to Spain, next to of course, Avila. Paul is building up so much excitement for the trip to the town named after his school, he is perched on the edge of his seat on the train trip in anticipation. The Mosquita was originally built as a Mosque and then converted to a catholic cathedral. It is famous for its multi columned halls of stripped archways. In the interior of the building the catholic king built a cathedral so it is very unusual to see two buildings from different religions combined into one. Once our tour finished we returned to the hotel for the required 2 hour sleep that one has every afternoon.

Later that afternoon, needing a few supplies we decided to find the nearest supermarket, this turned into an across town trek to the Euroski shopping centre, the place where most people go to survive the heat. It was 45 degrees outside and at 5 pm the shopping centre was deserted but we did find the equivalent to Big W and discovered that you cannot buy tissues in packs but you can certainly buy a pistol or handgun.

Requiring refreshment after our trek we stopped at a local bar in the square, this happened to be next to the local dance school. In Spain, young girls learn not ballet but Flamenco dancing. It seemed to be the end of term concert and there were lots of mothers and grandparents armed with video cameras and mobile phones waiting for their proteges to appear. You could have been in South Yarra or Gordon. Any Spanish woman carries with her the essential fan that she madly waves when agitated or excited. The speed of which the fan is waved determines the level of excitement or stress. There were many fans waved at great speed outside the Flamenco school at the conclusion of the concert. Our tour guide that day even had a fan which she used at regular intervals in situations where she needed to pass or gain our attention. Instead of holding up the usual umbrella, as most European tour guides do, she would wave her fan. However, there were only 4 of us on the tour and two of us were the English speakers and the other two were Spanish. I noticed there was much more fan waving happening when the Spanish speaking was happening than the English. My family will be highly amused that I too have purchased a fan. My paternal grandmother always had a fan which she used in the same manner as the Spanish. Her waving was usually accompanied by a statement about her level of comfort in any situation whether the weather was hot or not. I thought I should have it in preparation for when my niece or nephew is born so I too can wave it.

As we had experienced the excitement of Flamenco dancing expressed by the young students and their mothers, we decided to attend a performance ourselves. However, our show commenced at 10.30 pm. We were not sure if it was too 'tourist orientated' but it appeared fairly genuine and I am sure my brother could have put his skills as a production co-ordinator to work to assist them to run a smooth performance. However the music was haunting and the dancers were very skilled. I had forgotten how much rhythm is required to move your hands and feet in time to the music. The performance was also conducted on an outdoor stage so it was still at least 35 degrees. Cordoba is very beautiful by night as all the buildings are flood lit and the sky is an inky blue. This probably increases the dramatic effect of the performance. The area was set up with small tables and chairs and they offered us an 'aperitif' which is white sherry. I will say that this is not a favourite beverage of Paul's as his father loved the drink and 9 years on Paul's mother could still operate a cellar specialising in the drink. Therefore I seem to be surviving on drinking lots of the beverage, enough to kill any 'bugs' that may be living in my system.

The water in Cordoba is of a very good quality. You are encouraged to drink out of many of the fountains dotted around the city centre. This would please Cecile enormously who loves her water and is a very discerning connoisseur. Our very friendly hotel receptionist (we seem to be befriending these women as we travel the country, or more so my husband is) suggested we try a swim in the traditional baths. Paul and I have done this in Turkey and found it pleasant but a little inversive. After we confirmed that you do wear your bathers to the pool we booked in for an hour session. The baths consist of 3 pools; warm, hot and cool, as well as a steam room. You bathe in the pools in that order and take a session in the steam room to invigorate your system. When you enter the main warm pool everyone is bobbing in the water like a series of small cherry tomatoes. When I finished my bath I experienced a change room with at least 20 Spanish women who cheerily explained how to use the shower, the locker and cubicle but left me standing in my naked bar a towel because I hadn't indicated I needed a cubicle by hanging my wet bathers on the hook on the door.

We are leaving Cordoba to move on to Avila. Although we have seen Saint Theresa in the Mosquita in several forms; in white and variegated marble and in black marble on the main altar; getting inspiration from a dove and writing with a feather, Paul still needs to visit the site of her presence. So two breakfasts later; hotel and train 'business style' we will arrive in Avila. I think we can now prove to Generation Y that Cordoba is not 'boring' and good wine, food and swimming can be found if you search it out.

Gallery: Barcelona

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 22:54:00 GMT

'Buenas Nochs!' Barcelona

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 22:42:00 GMT

As I have never been to Spain before I have decided to write entries on each city that we visit as a way of keeping a diary of our experiences. As I am typing this, we are travelling on a very high speed train from Barcelona to Cordoba. In contrast to the train we arrived on Saturday night that must have been the oldest train on the Spanish network. This train is one of the newest. We are travelling at 300 km per hour and travelling first class is like travelling on an aircraft. There are movies, drink and meal service and the main difference is that there is more space and bigger windows; also all the reading materials and movies are in Spanish.

I wrote last Sunday that we arrived in Barcelona on Saturday night. We got a taxi from the station; after we had waded through the army of backpackers scrabbling for cheap accommodation and hotel transfers, and we were driven through the busy streets. Like any town on a Saturday night, Barcelona was very much alive. Our hotel was located in the centre of town close to the main avenue; La Ramblas. If you have been to Barcelona, you will remember that this is the avenue lined with plane trees with a pedestrian thoroughfare in the middle of it. As it was Saturday, the driver would not take us directly to the hotel and we had to weave through several narrow alleys to get to our hotel. The central area of Barcelona is a series of small streets lined with shops and cafes that link small squares. Our hotel was located on a square with a medieval church; one of many in Barcelona that is still undergoing restoration. We discovered over the last couple of days, that many churches in Barcelona were burned, along with their religious artifacts during the Spanish Civil war and the restoration process still continues in many of them.

Initially Paul was somewhat disappointed with the size of the room of our hotel. It was a typical of any hotel that we have stayed in any big city a room the size of a cardboard box and a shower that could operate as Doctor Who's tardis because of its cupboard size. However, the size of the room was made up by the very helpful receptionist on the front desk who provided information on any subject from the best Tapas bar, to where to get your clothes washed, where to get one's hair cut and operated as a postal service. Breakfast was provided by a very typical Spanish woman who brought it on a tray, with juice, a toasted roll and coffee but it took at least 20 minutes to prepare. The hotel overlooked the square and it was interesting to watch out the window the activity below, especially on a weekday when vans of all shapes and sizes brought in supplies to the businesses around the square.

Our first experience of eating Tapas was at 11 pm on Saturday night when we were recommended a local Tapas bar, by the helpful 'Italian' receptionist. (In Bordeaux Ian Raskall discovered a delightful winemaker called Isabella in Barcelona Paul discovered a delightful receptionist named Helena). We walked to the bar where there was a queue to get a table; remember it is well past any time we have eaten over the last 10 days and we were usually in bed by 9 pm when it is still light in Summer in Europe. We were seated at the bar where we watched the bar tender create what has now become Paul's favourite drink; the Mohito. For those of you who know cocktails you will know the powerful combination the taste of white spirit, lemon and mint that this drink produces, it is refreshing in a number of ways. The Sangria was also good as well (red wine and fruit). The tapas consisted of small plates of food such as calamari, chirizo, potato salad and croquettes.

We learnt the next day that nothing happens before 10 am in Spain and therefore the working day usually extends to 8 pm at night. On Sunday, it is even later. This doesn't really apply if you are a tourist as most sites do open at 9 am and close between 6 and 8 pm in Summer. There fore we commenced our day with a visit to the tourist office we where discovered the thousands of backpackers still queuing for accomodation. We were able to purchase a Barcelona Card, which most major cities have, giving you transport on the public transport system for 2 days and discounted entry into museums, galleries and tourist sites.

Barcelona is the city of Gaudi architecture, which I had particularly focused upon in my final year of school. Therefore I was able to see the buildings that I had only ever seen in 1970 black and white reproductions. I studied Art in the early 1980s and most art text books in colour were expensive. This would surprise many students today who now only see these works in colour on the internet. We planned the buldings to visit and set off.

Over the course of the day we became very Gaudied out as we visited the famous Famillia Sangria Church, Casa Barillo and Guell Park which are all designed by Gaudi. We discovered the variety of cultures and lifestyles in Barcelona. We learnt that most locals and backpackers go to Guell Park on a Sunday afternoon to relax and soak up the sun. Along La Ramblas and in most public areas you still have those Africans hawking fake watches and handbags. Paul loved the new trains on the metro and learnt that he could even carry out fare evasion when his metro ticket didn't work (he jumped the turnstiles; and if you know Paul well, you know this is very uncharacteristic behaviour, I think he just wants to be Spanish).

Finally we were all out of Gaudi and we returned to the hotel for another tapas visit. The following day we decided to just experience more of the local scene of Barcelona. We visited the contemporary art museum which was built in the Ravel area of Barcelona. This was formally the redlight district of the city but it has been revitalised and now houses many of the art and design schools of the city. I managed to get my hair cut without really speaking a word of English and even got my watch fixed that I had been trying to manage for the past 4 weeks in France. We enjoyed wandering the alleyways of the city and just strolling past the clothing stores. Many of you know that my family is awaiting the birth of my parents first grandchild at the end of this week so everywhere I look I see things for babies. We laughed at the section in the department store entitled 'Futura Mama' and had to stop ourselves buying a bib with the name of the Barcelona football team embroided on it as it was just too tacky and we don't know if Michelle and David's baby is a boy or a girl.

Barcelona was selected for the 1992 Olympic Games and reminds me very much of Sydney; there is a combination of older architecture, very much older than Sydney and sandy beaches in the city area. The city is definitely alive with people to late hours of the night and the Spanish people are a very relaxed race. There is more difference in the appearance of people compared to other European cities as there are more cultural influences from neighbouring countries such as France and Italy. It is also unusual for us to travel to a country where we do not really speak any of the language and less people seem to speak English. So as we travel to Cordoba, we travel to another area of Spain to experience another aspect of the country.

Gallery: Canal Du Midi

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 08:00:00 GMT

Week 7: Boating on the Canal to Bustling Barcelona:'Hola Espagne!'

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 07:52:00 GMT

This has been a relatively quiet week for those of you who enjoy our travel stories. We spent the week on the Canal Du Midi in the South of France. Last Saturday we picked up a canal boat at Negra about 50 km east of Toulouse. We had spent the morning in Toulouse where we struck the first serious rain period in the time we have been in France. Therefore we have no photos of Toulouse, although it is a really interesting city. It also marked the sad day that Paul actually got kilometres near the Airbus factory. He knew before we left, that in typical French fashion, yes they have tours, but not on Saturdays, the only day we were able to be in Toulouse. Therefore he was content to watch planes take off over the canal for the next week as we were in close vicinity to the factory.

We did think that we were going to have a fairly relaxing week after our rigourous week of walking. Crewing a canal boat is not as relaxing as you think. We travelled 118 kilometres along the canal to our destination, a small town called Argens, about 20 mins from the port city of Narbonne. Travelling along the Canal Du Midi involves taking the boat through water 'lochs'. We appointed Ian our captain as he has the sailing experience and under his command we safely made it. Moving along the canal we quickly learnt that we were not only one of several boats taking the same trip but one of many, going both ways. The week became more interesting as it developed and the various nationalities we met on other boats along our journey.

Each loch is manned by a 'loch-keeper' who mans the opening and closing of the gates at each end of the lock. They appear to have varied personalities and this is reflected often in the way they manage the loch and the activities they provide around their loch. There are loch keepers, who are entrepreneurial who sell wine and homemade jams. We even had one very friendly loch keeper who sold us a homemade apple tart two days running. Some loch keepers are very keen to have a conversation in French and hence my French speaking skills developed by having conversations with them as the boat was moving down the loch. Some loch keepers are women and you would often catch them sunbaking or in certain circumstances with some male loch keepers; napping away on a hot afternoon. Often the loch keeper would have their dog with them and Paul thinks that there are many dogs in France who look remarkably like their owners.

Therefore crewing the boat did give us quite a bit of exercise. We hired bikes for the week and each morning Cecile and I would ride to the local village to pick up the bread from the Boulangerie for the day. Cecile even had the energy to run several kilometres between locks on some days. This was after she spent the day jumping on and off the boat. We really do think she would make an Olympic athletic team. I think I have done enough bike riding along canal tow paths to start coaching a rowing crew on the Yarra; my skills are that good to balance on rocky paths, close to the edge of the water.

As I mentioned before, our journey did give us the opportunity to meet a variety of people from other nationalities; including German, Swiss, Spanish, British, South African, New Zealand and many other Australians. I was beginning to actually believe that there were no Australians left in Australia and that they were all on the Canal du Midi. Each boat had a certain way of operating, based on the nationality of the occupants; there were those who thought they may have been in the Sydney to Hobart (as did one Spanish boat we met), those who tended to move their boat erratically, some boats were manned by women alone which would be quite a difficult job. We were not quite sure if the job was difficult or they were a little out of their depth. We met a Swiss gentleman and his wife who kept their boat and driving very neat and tidy. Meeting various Australians made me realise that we do have a very varied country in terms of cultural groups. The groups of Australians that we met were all different, from a group of public servants from Canberra (who made numerous stops at local villages to sample wine, restaurants and never had a hair out of place), to a very mixed group of people from Melbourne (who were returning to visit ethnic roots in Poland and Croatia via France) to a group of men and their wives from Northern Queensland (all dressed in yellow Australian T-Shirts, caps, shorts and drinking copious amounts of beer; they resembled a boat on Brisbane Waters north of Sydney, that you often see cruising around in Summer).

We visited some small villages and towns along our way including Castlenaudry, Carcasonne, Trebes and Homps. These names might not mean anything but each town has its own identity and appearance. Of these town, Carcasonne is of note as it has a medieval town above the main city that is a UNESCO World Heritage site. Paul has accumulated photographs of these sites rapidly over the holiday and he can now tick off at least 30 more on the list of thousands. Many of the smaller villages survive on business from the canal and the boats. As we did most of our cooking on the boat, we attempted to utilize the grocery stores along the way. Usually our first questions when we arrived in a village were: “Where can we get fresh water?” and “Where is the nearest supermarket”? Our attempts to cook were varied. One night we even resorted to having pizza delivered from a local takeaway because it was Sunday and everything was closed. In another town we shopped at the 'Price Leder' which is the equivalent to shopping at Aldi. This would make my father very impressed as he has tried very hard to persuade Paul to enter what Dad believes has revolutionised supermarket shopping in Australia and brought Europe to our country. Ian and Cecile are superb cooks and we had some really good home cooked meals over the week. This surprisingly gave us relief from eating in the many restaurants we have dined in over the 6 weeks. boat was quite new and was well appointed and comfortable with individual hot showers in each of the 3 cabins, a kitchen with oven and stove and a nice dining area.

On Saturday we finished our trip and farewelled Ian and Cecile in Narbonne. Cecile is returning to Paris to further her studies in French for another week (I on the other hand am still attempting to speak my limited French to the Spanish in Barcelona). Ian is leaving Cecile in Paris to rest on a beach in Thailand for a couple of more weeks. He needs to recover from the experience of telling 3 teachers what to do for a week, a challenge in itself.

Paul and I spent half a day exploring Narbonne. At first when we knew we had 6 hours to wait for a train, we thought we would be lost for what to do. However we discovered that Narbonne is a very pretty Roman town with a Mediterranean feel. We enjoyed lunch in the square for 2 hours (remember nothing happens in provincial France between 12 – 2 pm.) and then explored the Roman ruins and the Medieval cathedral. We then boarded a train for an interesting 4 hour trip along the coast to Barcelona. We think we may have been the oldest people on the train and that Barcelona is a destination for every graduating American and Canadian student for the Summer. The city is a busy contrast to the quiet we have had on the canal for the past week. So begins our Spanish adventure. You will have to wait until next week for an update but we did commence our visit by eating Tapas and drinking Sangria at 11pm (most restaurants do not function until 9 pm); we have geared our eating habits to fit in with the Spanish. Until next week Au Revoir France and Hola from Spain!

Gallery: The Dordogne

kathryn_hendy_ekers — Sat, 6 Jun 2009 06:34:00 GMT