Don't worry, this isn't another tale of us getting lost or having a mishap, I was just trying to think of something mildly amusing.
After a long day of trains, trains and trains we alighted in Verona in the late afternoon and found our B&B located in a handy part of the town near the Roman Arena. On the way to the hotel we walked past the Arena and through the main shopping streets of the town so had a rough idea of its layout. We were in need of food and our B&B host gave us a great recommendation - a place just a couple of blocks away called Tabia. It was a northern Italy, Alps-style place with hearty, northern food to match. We haven't eaten at restaurants much yet on the trip, so this might have contributed to how much we enjoyed the meal, or it might just have been that good, but we really loved the food, and our waiter was very friendly and helpful despite our terrible Italian. We enjoyed a carafe of local Veneto sparkling wine with some crudités (fancy!) with dips, then I had a wild boar tagliatelle and Simon had spinach ravioli.
The next day we set off for some exploring, starting with "Juliet's" house. Of course Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet is set in Verona and some enterprising person (or tourist board) designated a particular house as Juliet's, probably because of the nice Juliet balcony looking over a courtyard, that now contains a bronze statue of the lady herself. Never mind that Juliet wasn't actually real, people flock in there to visit the house, and rub poor Juliet's right breast for luck. They also leave love graffiti on the wall, and as a newly engaged couple, Simon and I might have made a little note on a particular wall to remember our visit! I was disappointed to discover Hollywood lied to us again, as I could find no evidence of any "letters to Juliet" in the walls, as shown in the Amanda Seyfried romantic comedy of the same name.
We also found the main square, which was stunning. So many beautiful buildings of different eras, building materials, colours and states of repair - it probably should have looked disjointed, but it really added to the atmosphere, and it was lovely enough to even minimise the impact of all the tourist stalls and shops. We passed under the huge gate halfway up the square that has a whale's jawbone hanging from it. Local legend is that the bone will fall on the first just person to pass under the gate - looks like that wasn't either of us! We spent some time wandering the streets and lanes and looking at the amazing architecture and houses - on some houses you could see where centuries of frescos, paint and plasterwork had peeled back, revealing the original medieval bricks underneath. By that point it was heating up so we made a gelato stop - having by far the best gelato of the trip to date, chocolate orange flavour, with real pieces of candied orange. So creamy and chocolatey, really good! We ate this overlooking the Adige River, which was running very high and fast due to all the rain and flooding in Austria and northern Italy in previous weeks.
We then headed back to rest and get dressed up for our night at the opera, the main reason for our trip to Verona. First was a celebratory engagement dinner. Although the service was a bit stiff (and I don't think we impressed the sommelier with our request for wine, which basically amounted to "your finest but cheapest") the food was really good - we started with prosciutto and polenta with gorgonzola to share, then Simon had suckling pig and I had beef cheek. It was all very rich food but tasty!
We then went to the opera and were a bit worried Simon's shorts (even though they were his "smart" shorts) would be rejected, as we'd read that sometimes the ushers were strict on the dress code, but needn't have worried, there were plenty of other tourists in sneakers there. We saw La Traviata, and downloaded the libretto beforehand so we knew what was happening, which helped. When I was reading the libretto it sounded a bit like the plot of Moulin Rouge, and a bit of internet research showed that the film was loosely based on this opera - who knew? (Probably people more cultured than me) The singing was wonderful which was lucky as we were so far back that we couldn't see much. I must admit by the end of nearly three hours I was losing focus slightly, but it was a great experience, and the setting in the Roman Arena is magical as the dusk creeps in and stars come out over the stage. All in all a wonderful day in Verona! Next stop, Florence.
Sunday, 25 August 2013
Cinque Terre
It turns out that our decision of Genoa hotel wasn't quite as crazy as initially thought. It was actually close to our departure station the next morning! We made our way onto the train headed for our next destination; Riomaggiore. The southern most village of the Cinque Terre, it also serves as the start of National Parks walk. The train pulled in and we fought our way through the crowds to get to our accommodation for the next couple of days. A simple yet brand new place situated on the main street high above street level (up a couple of rather steep flights of stairs; which is apparently enough to turn some people off staying there again if Booking.com reviews are to be believed!).
They weren't all that bad and we checked in, dumped our bags and set off in search of what would become, unbelievably, our first swim of this trip so far. A beautiful bay just past the harbour was the place. Beautifully clear waters, fantastic scene looking back from the water, albeit a rather stony coastline. An attempt at sunbathing was uncomfortable at best but enjoyable nonetheless!
More than satisfied with our quick dip in the sea, we were getting hungry and wandered past all of the lovely looking restaurants and decided on take away pizza and a fish cone (an assortment of deep fried fish pieces in a paper cone) on our roof terrace with town and (partial) sea view and a couple of rather refreshing beers (thank you Mr Moretti!). Not content with dinner and views (and my slight ulterior motives!) we set off for a wander back down to the harbour for a delicious gelato and perched ourselves on a secluded rock and took in the stunning night time vista. Little did either of us know at the time that this was to be a particular spot and time that neither of us would ever forget.
The time had come! I had been carrying something around long enough in my bag, trying to keep it safe from prying eyes. Okay, enough of the slightly cryptic references now as we all know what happened next. I proposed - and fortunately Clair said yes! (for more details best to speak with Clair!). I must admit it was up there as one of the most nerve-racking moments! But of course I knew she would say yes, right?! We continued to sit out and chat away into the small hours until tiredness (emotional and physical) finally took hold, also knowing full well we had an action-packed next day planned.
We woke all sprightly and ready to tackle the walk. We already knew that the official path from Riomaggiore to Manarola was closed so we hopped on a train the one stop and took the detoured route on the way to Corniglia. Little did we know that this 'scenic' route would be extremely scenic but also physically rather challenging and extended our route by a good few kilometres. The rise and falls in upwards of 30 degrees heat was enough to almost finish us off before we even made it to the first stop. Weaving through the hills the route continued up and down, stopping off in a slightly inland town by the name of *STOP TOWN*. A quick water top up and we were off again with Corniglia in sight where we would pick up the official National Parks path again.
The walk continued and we strolled onward through Corniglia and Vernazza, stopping for a while at the harbour in the latter to catch our breath and a bite before tackling the final stretch. With fatigue beginning to set in with Monterosso in sight, every bend promised the end but then yet another hill! We finally made it! A little over 6 hours, 14 km walked, many metres climbed and descended, plenty of pints of sweat lost, 9 litres of water drunk, two bananas and two sandwiches eaten and a whole load of unforgettable sights locked in. This will definitely be the first place I call upon whenever I need to leave my mind and recall an idyllic scene.
Words can't really describe how picturesque the Cinque Terre really are. The sweeping hills, the quaintness of the perched villages, winding streets and NO cars, well virtually none, all contribute to creating this most amazing place. I will now also hold the Cinque Terre in my heart as the most special place and memory of my life. We hauled our tired and aching bodies back on the train and retired with a family size take away pizza and a couple of Morettis back on the roof terrace. A fantastic couple of days and I think we both came away with plenty of fond memories along with a great desire to return.
They weren't all that bad and we checked in, dumped our bags and set off in search of what would become, unbelievably, our first swim of this trip so far. A beautiful bay just past the harbour was the place. Beautifully clear waters, fantastic scene looking back from the water, albeit a rather stony coastline. An attempt at sunbathing was uncomfortable at best but enjoyable nonetheless!
More than satisfied with our quick dip in the sea, we were getting hungry and wandered past all of the lovely looking restaurants and decided on take away pizza and a fish cone (an assortment of deep fried fish pieces in a paper cone) on our roof terrace with town and (partial) sea view and a couple of rather refreshing beers (thank you Mr Moretti!). Not content with dinner and views (and my slight ulterior motives!) we set off for a wander back down to the harbour for a delicious gelato and perched ourselves on a secluded rock and took in the stunning night time vista. Little did either of us know at the time that this was to be a particular spot and time that neither of us would ever forget.
The time had come! I had been carrying something around long enough in my bag, trying to keep it safe from prying eyes. Okay, enough of the slightly cryptic references now as we all know what happened next. I proposed - and fortunately Clair said yes! (for more details best to speak with Clair!). I must admit it was up there as one of the most nerve-racking moments! But of course I knew she would say yes, right?! We continued to sit out and chat away into the small hours until tiredness (emotional and physical) finally took hold, also knowing full well we had an action-packed next day planned.
We woke all sprightly and ready to tackle the walk. We already knew that the official path from Riomaggiore to Manarola was closed so we hopped on a train the one stop and took the detoured route on the way to Corniglia. Little did we know that this 'scenic' route would be extremely scenic but also physically rather challenging and extended our route by a good few kilometres. The rise and falls in upwards of 30 degrees heat was enough to almost finish us off before we even made it to the first stop. Weaving through the hills the route continued up and down, stopping off in a slightly inland town by the name of *STOP TOWN*. A quick water top up and we were off again with Corniglia in sight where we would pick up the official National Parks path again.
The walk continued and we strolled onward through Corniglia and Vernazza, stopping for a while at the harbour in the latter to catch our breath and a bite before tackling the final stretch. With fatigue beginning to set in with Monterosso in sight, every bend promised the end but then yet another hill! We finally made it! A little over 6 hours, 14 km walked, many metres climbed and descended, plenty of pints of sweat lost, 9 litres of water drunk, two bananas and two sandwiches eaten and a whole load of unforgettable sights locked in. This will definitely be the first place I call upon whenever I need to leave my mind and recall an idyllic scene.
Words can't really describe how picturesque the Cinque Terre really are. The sweeping hills, the quaintness of the perched villages, winding streets and NO cars, well virtually none, all contribute to creating this most amazing place. I will now also hold the Cinque Terre in my heart as the most special place and memory of my life. We hauled our tired and aching bodies back on the train and retired with a family size take away pizza and a couple of Morettis back on the roof terrace. A fantastic couple of days and I think we both came away with plenty of fond memories along with a great desire to return.
Ciao Italia!
It was time for us to leave France and take the train to our next country, Italy. Our first stop was really an overnight to break up the trip to the Cinque Terre - Genoa.
I'd been once before briefly and although it seemed a pleasant place I wasn't overly impressed, so I was hoping to get something more from it this time. And Simon just wanted to satisfy his pasta craving that had been steadily growing for the past few days! Unfortunately we didn't get off to a good start - usually we have been good at booking places close to train stations and transport so we didn't have to carry the bags too far. However we'd managed to book this hotel on the complete other side of town, so after a 40-minute walk in the blazing sun we weren't feeling that charitable towards the city.
But after a freshen up we headed out without 14 kilos on our backs and enjoyed eating some eggplant/aubergine focaccia and checking out the lovely black-and-white stone striped cathedral and the narrow winding streets of the old town. The port area sounded promising, but was a bit disappointing - apart from an aquarium there wasn't too much there and no shade to protect from the sun. Genoa was a very important town historically, trading with the world and rivalling the Venetian empire in terms of economic and maritime power. I thought they could have made more of this with some information or displays down at the port but there wasn't much. In terms of sights, there are several old palaces that belonged to the city nobility that Lonely Planet assured us were worth going to, but most were closed or we judged them to be over-priced for what they were (we could be wrong, we'll never know!)
After fruitlessly following old-town signs promising restaurant districts that never materialised, we settled for dinner at a touristy place at the port, that did actually serve up some decent pasta, and retired, feeling that Genoa must have something to offer, but we'd apparently managed to miss it!
I'd been once before briefly and although it seemed a pleasant place I wasn't overly impressed, so I was hoping to get something more from it this time. And Simon just wanted to satisfy his pasta craving that had been steadily growing for the past few days! Unfortunately we didn't get off to a good start - usually we have been good at booking places close to train stations and transport so we didn't have to carry the bags too far. However we'd managed to book this hotel on the complete other side of town, so after a 40-minute walk in the blazing sun we weren't feeling that charitable towards the city.
But after a freshen up we headed out without 14 kilos on our backs and enjoyed eating some eggplant/aubergine focaccia and checking out the lovely black-and-white stone striped cathedral and the narrow winding streets of the old town. The port area sounded promising, but was a bit disappointing - apart from an aquarium there wasn't too much there and no shade to protect from the sun. Genoa was a very important town historically, trading with the world and rivalling the Venetian empire in terms of economic and maritime power. I thought they could have made more of this with some information or displays down at the port but there wasn't much. In terms of sights, there are several old palaces that belonged to the city nobility that Lonely Planet assured us were worth going to, but most were closed or we judged them to be over-priced for what they were (we could be wrong, we'll never know!)
After fruitlessly following old-town signs promising restaurant districts that never materialised, we settled for dinner at a touristy place at the port, that did actually serve up some decent pasta, and retired, feeling that Genoa must have something to offer, but we'd apparently managed to miss it!
Saturday, 27 July 2013
Twice as Nice
We had an early departure from Castellane as we had to return the rental car to Nice Airport first thing. The descent from the mountain town was stunning - a thick early-morning fog had settled in the valleys, so it appeared the green hills were floating in the clouds. We stopped a few times to take in the sights (apologies for the picture quality - these are a few iPhone photos we've salvaged)
As we neared sea level the fog lifted and we drove through Grasse, the home of perfume, and then had our last toll road and petrol stop in France (hooray!) We eventually dropped the car off at Nice Airport after driving round a confusing series of one-way streets and contradictory signage - who'd have thought something as big as an airport could be so hard to find, especially since we could see the planes, just not the entrance!
After bussing it into town and dropping the bags at the hotel we found some brunch and sat in a park manging on the local Nicoise sandwich, a bagnat - a roll with onions, egg, tomato, tuna, capers and a decent slug of olive oil - delicious! The bakery owner was amused by my Australian pronunciation of it as "bag-nat" and helpfully informed me it is "ban-nya". We strolled around the old town and looked at the fabulous flower and produce markets, and enjoyed watching the sights and sounds (not to mention traffic chaos!) caused by a parade of South American samba schools going on. The old town had a great authentically dingy feel with some lovely old buildings and winding streets, unfortunately overflowing with the ubiquitous lavender and souvenir shops. We did stumble upon a gelateria that is something of a local legend - Fennochio - which has all sorts of weird and wonderful flavours, such as tomato and basil, olive and rose. I went for lavender flavour and Simon chose a more traditional white chocolate. The lavender was exactly like eating lavender in ice cream form - not to everyone's taste I suppose but I enjoyed it! But I must say the gelato in general wasn't amazing compared to other kinds we'd sampled.
After popping back to the hotel for a much-needed nap we went in search of dinner. We ambitiously chose somewhere on the main square filled with tourists, and it was predictably average, but I did try a couple of Nicoise specialities: farcis, meat-stuffed vegetables; and daube, a Provençal beef stew, both of which were tasty enough. A stroll back through the old town finished off a long day.
The next morning was steaming hot as we set out across the north of the city and up a hill lined with big trees and gorgeous old mansion houses to a park at the top. There were two attractions we had trekked up for - the Matisse museum and another Roman arena (help us, we have a problem!) Unfortunately the Matisse museum was closed for its 50th anniversary celebrations, and the arena was a bit worse for wear - hardly anything was left, just the outside wall and a few columns, and we also couldn't go inside. It still looks as though they hold concerts there though as sound equipment and a stage was set up. We did go into the free archaeological museum which was worth a brief look, mainly for the remains of the Roman baths out the back.
There were also some really nice gardens overlooking the city, and after strolling around there and getting some photos we headed back to town. We went a route that from our map looked a scenic pathway along the river, but in reality was a fairly dry canal through an industrial area. The highlights were watching some ducks hitching a ride down the fast-flowing currents, and seeing the number of old 1980s Peugeot 205s (Simon's first car, he has a soft spot for them!) still in operation.
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We made it back to the old town and up another park on a hill, this one with a view to the harbour from one side, and over the old town and the long promenade of Nice beach to the other - beautiful. After all that walking we refreshed ourselves with some more gelato, then a beer and some people watching on one of the squares. For dinner we sampled more farcis and another traditional Nicoise snack - socca, a chickpea-flour pancake. It was okay but could have used some sauce with it to liven it up.
A stroll along the beach promenade as the sun set finished the evening off nicely.
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Overall I quite enjoyed Nice - although there aren't a lot of museums or the usual sights, it had a nice vibe, I liked the old town and there were heaps of little cafes, bar and restaurants to pass the time in. I'm sure if you weren't on such a budget as us you could eat well, and enjoy yourself for a few days quite easily! Simon wasn't such a fan and didn't really feel the buzz, so different strokes I guess!
As we neared sea level the fog lifted and we drove through Grasse, the home of perfume, and then had our last toll road and petrol stop in France (hooray!) We eventually dropped the car off at Nice Airport after driving round a confusing series of one-way streets and contradictory signage - who'd have thought something as big as an airport could be so hard to find, especially since we could see the planes, just not the entrance!
After bussing it into town and dropping the bags at the hotel we found some brunch and sat in a park manging on the local Nicoise sandwich, a bagnat - a roll with onions, egg, tomato, tuna, capers and a decent slug of olive oil - delicious! The bakery owner was amused by my Australian pronunciation of it as "bag-nat" and helpfully informed me it is "ban-nya". We strolled around the old town and looked at the fabulous flower and produce markets, and enjoyed watching the sights and sounds (not to mention traffic chaos!) caused by a parade of South American samba schools going on. The old town had a great authentically dingy feel with some lovely old buildings and winding streets, unfortunately overflowing with the ubiquitous lavender and souvenir shops. We did stumble upon a gelateria that is something of a local legend - Fennochio - which has all sorts of weird and wonderful flavours, such as tomato and basil, olive and rose. I went for lavender flavour and Simon chose a more traditional white chocolate. The lavender was exactly like eating lavender in ice cream form - not to everyone's taste I suppose but I enjoyed it! But I must say the gelato in general wasn't amazing compared to other kinds we'd sampled.
After popping back to the hotel for a much-needed nap we went in search of dinner. We ambitiously chose somewhere on the main square filled with tourists, and it was predictably average, but I did try a couple of Nicoise specialities: farcis, meat-stuffed vegetables; and daube, a Provençal beef stew, both of which were tasty enough. A stroll back through the old town finished off a long day.
The next morning was steaming hot as we set out across the north of the city and up a hill lined with big trees and gorgeous old mansion houses to a park at the top. There were two attractions we had trekked up for - the Matisse museum and another Roman arena (help us, we have a problem!) Unfortunately the Matisse museum was closed for its 50th anniversary celebrations, and the arena was a bit worse for wear - hardly anything was left, just the outside wall and a few columns, and we also couldn't go inside. It still looks as though they hold concerts there though as sound equipment and a stage was set up. We did go into the free archaeological museum which was worth a brief look, mainly for the remains of the Roman baths out the back.
There were also some really nice gardens overlooking the city, and after strolling around there and getting some photos we headed back to town. We went a route that from our map looked a scenic pathway along the river, but in reality was a fairly dry canal through an industrial area. The highlights were watching some ducks hitching a ride down the fast-flowing currents, and seeing the number of old 1980s Peugeot 205s (Simon's first car, he has a soft spot for them!) still in operation.
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A stroll along the beach promenade as the sun set finished the evening off nicely.
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Gorge du Verdon
It was sad to be leaving the Gite, as it had been a fantastic three-night stop. As I said in a previous entry, the scenery was stunning, the owners so very friendly, a perfect base for our few days en Provence and of course Willie the dog.
Our next destination was to be the Gorge du Verdon, dubbed the Grand Canyon of Europe. The drive was long, but the scenery along the winding mountainside roads with glimpses into the perfectly light blue alpine river running alongside the road more than made up for it. We drove to the nearest 'big' town, Castellane, where we stopped for a picnic before heading out to our camp-site. The site was just out of town in the hilly forest past the town. We had booked ourselves a wooden caravan for the night, so we were basically Glamping. It was a fun little caravan, if perhaps a little small!
Right, it was time for the hike, so we headed to the start point of a 2 hour round trip hike down into the gorge. Stunning, stunning, stunning! The aches of the previous days hike seemed to lighten amidst the beauty of the descent into the gorge. We stood for an age at a vertigo-inducing cliff-side and looked in awe at the sheer rock-faces, fast-flowing dazzling turquoise waters of the Verdon river and ever so narrow walkways along the cliff faces. The Gorge slices its way through 25km of Provence's limestone plateau, reaching heights of 700m and lows of 250m, the deep gorge floor is between 8m and 80m wide meaning virtually every part of the gorge is spectacular. We also walked through a 2km series of pitch-black (torch required) large-puddled (soggy trainer alert!) tunnels which were originally excavated in the late 1800s as part of a rather ambitious plan to harness the power of the rapid flowing waters in a hydro electric plant. Before their time! Sadly, they never finished but the tunnels remain and are now an integral part of the Gorge walk.
We ascended back to the car and in search of sustenance. Such exertion is hungry work! We headed back into Castellane, whose highlight is a chapel perched above the town atop a needle-like rock, and picked up a pizza to eat out at the camping ground. A great evening albeit short as we had a very early start the next morning to return the car in Nice. I think we would have happily stayed another day or so in the region. Plenty more hiking we missed out on, in fact more than two days worth in all. Next time.....
Our next destination was to be the Gorge du Verdon, dubbed the Grand Canyon of Europe. The drive was long, but the scenery along the winding mountainside roads with glimpses into the perfectly light blue alpine river running alongside the road more than made up for it. We drove to the nearest 'big' town, Castellane, where we stopped for a picnic before heading out to our camp-site. The site was just out of town in the hilly forest past the town. We had booked ourselves a wooden caravan for the night, so we were basically Glamping. It was a fun little caravan, if perhaps a little small!
Right, it was time for the hike, so we headed to the start point of a 2 hour round trip hike down into the gorge. Stunning, stunning, stunning! The aches of the previous days hike seemed to lighten amidst the beauty of the descent into the gorge. We stood for an age at a vertigo-inducing cliff-side and looked in awe at the sheer rock-faces, fast-flowing dazzling turquoise waters of the Verdon river and ever so narrow walkways along the cliff faces. The Gorge slices its way through 25km of Provence's limestone plateau, reaching heights of 700m and lows of 250m, the deep gorge floor is between 8m and 80m wide meaning virtually every part of the gorge is spectacular. We also walked through a 2km series of pitch-black (torch required) large-puddled (soggy trainer alert!) tunnels which were originally excavated in the late 1800s as part of a rather ambitious plan to harness the power of the rapid flowing waters in a hydro electric plant. Before their time! Sadly, they never finished but the tunnels remain and are now an integral part of the Gorge walk.
We ascended back to the car and in search of sustenance. Such exertion is hungry work! We headed back into Castellane, whose highlight is a chapel perched above the town atop a needle-like rock, and picked up a pizza to eat out at the camping ground. A great evening albeit short as we had a very early start the next morning to return the car in Nice. I think we would have happily stayed another day or so in the region. Plenty more hiking we missed out on, in fact more than two days worth in all. Next time.....
The "Creme de Cassis"
It was decided that for the rest of our French adventure, Clair would only be entering into the passenger door of the car. It was safest for everyone. I joke, obviously. It was a very unfortunate series of events.
Another beautiful day's weather presented itself and rather than go on the hunt for further Roman articles we ventured to the coast for what promised to be a stunning hike around the Calanques National Park; A 20km stretch of brilliant-turquoise Mediterranean coastline featuring a series of high and rocky cliffs, coves and bays in and around Cassis, just south-east of Marseilles. Our journey there however was not without incident again, this time of our own making. In our best efforts to save a couple of Euros, we decided against adding to the ever increasing road toll bill, so opted for the country roads or so we thought! The route ended up taking us through the centre of Marseilles. Wow, it may be the 2013 European Capital of Culture, but it is also my 2013 European Capital of where not to drive through, as it was certainly chaotic and at times every man, woman and child for themselves! Also, when the only signs you are presented with are 'Toutes Directions' (All directions) and 'Autres Directions' (Other directions), you begin to ask some serious questions. Most notably, how do I get out of here!?
Eventually we escaped the horrors of central Marseilles, unscathed, and descended into the quaint cliff-side town of Cassis. There are two contrasting facts about Cassis: first, it has charm in abundance; secondly, it does not have half enough parking for the quantity of visitors it receives. No less than half an hour after we arrived, we finally happened upon a car park out of town. As it turned out this worked out perfectly for us, as it was at the start of the walk we were there for!
We set off around the coves and inlets on our first semi-serious hike of the trip. There were plenty of rise and falls along the way as the path weaved around harbours, down into idyllic coved beaches and up far too steep hills for my knees. We then reached the summit of the third bay before the fitness levels and the time were against us. Not that the virtual sheer descent wasn't enough in itself to put us off going any further, but in the interest of not burning out too soon we headed back the way we came.
Nothing more can really be said about the walk other than both the scenery and weather were beautiful making it another great day out. We are only sorry we don't have any photos to show you! This site describes the walk we did and has some pictures if you are interested.
We drove back to the Gite (paying the toll and avoiding Marseilles this time!) for our last night in Mallemort. Plenty of cheese, meat and beer were consumed!
Another beautiful day's weather presented itself and rather than go on the hunt for further Roman articles we ventured to the coast for what promised to be a stunning hike around the Calanques National Park; A 20km stretch of brilliant-turquoise Mediterranean coastline featuring a series of high and rocky cliffs, coves and bays in and around Cassis, just south-east of Marseilles. Our journey there however was not without incident again, this time of our own making. In our best efforts to save a couple of Euros, we decided against adding to the ever increasing road toll bill, so opted for the country roads or so we thought! The route ended up taking us through the centre of Marseilles. Wow, it may be the 2013 European Capital of Culture, but it is also my 2013 European Capital of where not to drive through, as it was certainly chaotic and at times every man, woman and child for themselves! Also, when the only signs you are presented with are 'Toutes Directions' (All directions) and 'Autres Directions' (Other directions), you begin to ask some serious questions. Most notably, how do I get out of here!?
Eventually we escaped the horrors of central Marseilles, unscathed, and descended into the quaint cliff-side town of Cassis. There are two contrasting facts about Cassis: first, it has charm in abundance; secondly, it does not have half enough parking for the quantity of visitors it receives. No less than half an hour after we arrived, we finally happened upon a car park out of town. As it turned out this worked out perfectly for us, as it was at the start of the walk we were there for!
We set off around the coves and inlets on our first semi-serious hike of the trip. There were plenty of rise and falls along the way as the path weaved around harbours, down into idyllic coved beaches and up far too steep hills for my knees. We then reached the summit of the third bay before the fitness levels and the time were against us. Not that the virtual sheer descent wasn't enough in itself to put us off going any further, but in the interest of not burning out too soon we headed back the way we came.
Nothing more can really be said about the walk other than both the scenery and weather were beautiful making it another great day out. We are only sorry we don't have any photos to show you! This site describes the walk we did and has some pictures if you are interested.
We drove back to the Gite (paying the toll and avoiding Marseilles this time!) for our last night in Mallemort. Plenty of cheese, meat and beer were consumed!
Orange - not just a fruit
Ever in pursuit of more Roman relics, we set off on a day trip to Orange today.
But before we even got far from the gite, we had to get through our first bit of drama for the day. Let me set the scene - I had agreed with Simon that I would do some of the driving in France and Italy, and given we were in a rural area I thought this would be a good place to start. However there were several little alarm bells that probably should have tipped us off that this wasn't a great plan. Firstly, I haven't driven a vehicle of any kind (does sitting at the front of the DLR pretending to drive it count?) in over 18 months. Secondly, I haven't driven a manual car in about seven years (and yes, the Juke was a manual). And the last and probably most crucial factor - I had never driven on the "wrong" side of the road before. I reversed the car from the car park and drove down the long driveway without taking out any flower pots or local dogs, so although I was feeling nervous we decided I'd take her out on the open road. Things were going okay for a while and I was pottering along with Simon constantly telling me to "move over" as I veered towards the right. Then a car came zooming up behind me and I got a bit panicked, driving even further to the right and riding into the dirt on the side of the road. Again this would have been fine, except the place I swerved into happened to have an exposed metal pipe - instant double tyre blow-out, brilliant!
Ever one to stay calm in a crisis, I resorted to holding my head and repeating "oh my god". Simon, being more the nervous type, got out the emergency contact details and immediately got to calling Hertz. We really need to give credit where due to Hertz at this point - we got through to someone straight away and he said he'd send a tow truck within an hour who would take us and car somewhere we could collect a new car, potentially Avignon, which we were intending to visit anyway. Sounded okay to us. But not more than 40 minutes after the call a super-efficient tow truck driver turned up with a brand-new Insignia - he rolled it off, gave us a new contract and hauled away the Juke in the space of about five minutes. We couldn't be happier with the service and were on the road again. No, I was not driving but Simon was pretty happy he had scored a nice shiny upgraded car, so all's well that ends well!
Anyway, onto Orange. The big draw-card for the city (town? It wasn't that big) is the Roman amphitheatre, the best preserved in Europe and one of the most impressive in the world. We headed straight there for a look. I have to say, I was completely blown away - I knew it was going to be big, but the scale of it was unbelievable - the back of the theatre is about the size of a five-storey building. so actors on the stage must have looked tiny when compared to their backdrop. It even has most of the statue of Emperor Augustus still there - he stood right in the middle of the whole thing, all part of the cult of the Emperor thing. It is mostly the underlying rock on show now, but it is so well-preserved it was easy to imagine the beautiful coloured marble façade it would have sported nearly 2,000 years ago, with dozens of columns, and alcoves filled with statues. The semi-circular seating arrangement was no less impressive, reaching up nearly as high as the stage - it seated thousands of people. Seating was arranged according to social status - the city's officials, nobles and visiting dignitaries sat on temporary, plush seating at the front. Merchants and other middle-class sat in the next rows, and so on until you got to the slaves, prostitutes and city layabouts who were at the back. Like gladiatorial contests, the theatre entertainment was free for the people, and there were up to 100 days off to enjoy the shows per year. There was all kinds of theatre - improvisation, comedies and dramas so something for everyone really.
While we were there we got to sample the great acoustics of the theatre first hand - during summer they host concerts there (amazing to think a lot of these Roman sites are still used for the their original purpose centuries later) and this day, the Straits (a band including a couple of former Dire Straits members) were playing, so they were doing their sound check while we walked around. I wonder what the Romans would have made of Sultans of Swing? I think they would have liked it.
Once we'd done our Roman duty for the day we wandered around the old city for a bit. We bought some of the local sweets - callisons - to have later. They are small diamond-shaped marzipan sweets with pastel-coloured icing on top, pretty tasty. Given the dramas of the day we decided against heading to Avignon and drove back to the gite to enjoy a few well-earned drinks and watch the sun set over the mountains in the distance - very enjoyable.
But before we even got far from the gite, we had to get through our first bit of drama for the day. Let me set the scene - I had agreed with Simon that I would do some of the driving in France and Italy, and given we were in a rural area I thought this would be a good place to start. However there were several little alarm bells that probably should have tipped us off that this wasn't a great plan. Firstly, I haven't driven a vehicle of any kind (does sitting at the front of the DLR pretending to drive it count?) in over 18 months. Secondly, I haven't driven a manual car in about seven years (and yes, the Juke was a manual). And the last and probably most crucial factor - I had never driven on the "wrong" side of the road before. I reversed the car from the car park and drove down the long driveway without taking out any flower pots or local dogs, so although I was feeling nervous we decided I'd take her out on the open road. Things were going okay for a while and I was pottering along with Simon constantly telling me to "move over" as I veered towards the right. Then a car came zooming up behind me and I got a bit panicked, driving even further to the right and riding into the dirt on the side of the road. Again this would have been fine, except the place I swerved into happened to have an exposed metal pipe - instant double tyre blow-out, brilliant!
Ever one to stay calm in a crisis, I resorted to holding my head and repeating "oh my god". Simon, being more the nervous type, got out the emergency contact details and immediately got to calling Hertz. We really need to give credit where due to Hertz at this point - we got through to someone straight away and he said he'd send a tow truck within an hour who would take us and car somewhere we could collect a new car, potentially Avignon, which we were intending to visit anyway. Sounded okay to us. But not more than 40 minutes after the call a super-efficient tow truck driver turned up with a brand-new Insignia - he rolled it off, gave us a new contract and hauled away the Juke in the space of about five minutes. We couldn't be happier with the service and were on the road again. No, I was not driving but Simon was pretty happy he had scored a nice shiny upgraded car, so all's well that ends well!
Anyway, onto Orange. The big draw-card for the city (town? It wasn't that big) is the Roman amphitheatre, the best preserved in Europe and one of the most impressive in the world. We headed straight there for a look. I have to say, I was completely blown away - I knew it was going to be big, but the scale of it was unbelievable - the back of the theatre is about the size of a five-storey building. so actors on the stage must have looked tiny when compared to their backdrop. It even has most of the statue of Emperor Augustus still there - he stood right in the middle of the whole thing, all part of the cult of the Emperor thing. It is mostly the underlying rock on show now, but it is so well-preserved it was easy to imagine the beautiful coloured marble façade it would have sported nearly 2,000 years ago, with dozens of columns, and alcoves filled with statues. The semi-circular seating arrangement was no less impressive, reaching up nearly as high as the stage - it seated thousands of people. Seating was arranged according to social status - the city's officials, nobles and visiting dignitaries sat on temporary, plush seating at the front. Merchants and other middle-class sat in the next rows, and so on until you got to the slaves, prostitutes and city layabouts who were at the back. Like gladiatorial contests, the theatre entertainment was free for the people, and there were up to 100 days off to enjoy the shows per year. There was all kinds of theatre - improvisation, comedies and dramas so something for everyone really.
While we were there we got to sample the great acoustics of the theatre first hand - during summer they host concerts there (amazing to think a lot of these Roman sites are still used for the their original purpose centuries later) and this day, the Straits (a band including a couple of former Dire Straits members) were playing, so they were doing their sound check while we walked around. I wonder what the Romans would have made of Sultans of Swing? I think they would have liked it.
Once we'd done our Roman duty for the day we wandered around the old city for a bit. We bought some of the local sweets - callisons - to have later. They are small diamond-shaped marzipan sweets with pastel-coloured icing on top, pretty tasty. Given the dramas of the day we decided against heading to Avignon and drove back to the gite to enjoy a few well-earned drinks and watch the sun set over the mountains in the distance - very enjoyable.
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