Vive La France! (and Monaco)

One highlight of my 2015 was the fulfilment of a dream holiday: a leisurely two week road trip through France. The starting point was Paris, the end point was Monte Carlo. I've been to Paris and the Riviera before, but nowhere in between...and boy did I ever want to see the in between. The only rule that applied was no highways allowed – scenic back routes only. I am a shamelessly full fledged Francophile. French food, French fashion, French architecture...I love it all. And after this trip, I love it all more than ever. The reason this opportunity landed in my lap is that an old co-worker acquaintance from Vancouver had booked the trip and needed a navigator. A tough job, but someone has to do it – so why not me? Admittedly we were very ill suited travel buddies – it can be hard when you have no interests or anything really in common – but that can't negate from the sights that were seen.

Because I am sitting on top of a pile of half written posts, I must own up to the fact that this trip took place at the end of May. The significance of this timing is that I got to visit Monaco during the Formula 1 as well as Cannes during the film festival. These were not, however, the highlights of the trip. That honour I think is reserved for Mont Saint Michel and Amboise...or the Dordogne region...or Chenonceau. In fact, how does one pick a highlight from such a trip? It's impossible.

The meeting point was Paris' Charles de Gaulle airport. Because I didn't fly in, I had to take a public bus from one of the central stations. This was an eye opening experience. I've been to Paris a few times, but only to the prettier, tourist friendly (I mean aesthetically, we know tourist friendly in France is an oxymoron) parts. I had no idea about the shabby, concrete bunker filled, Islamic suburbs that lay just outside the centre. Paris has never been my favourite city. I mean, I like to visit of course but I have never had a burning desire to make it my home, it never delved into my psyche like New York did for a period, or Sydney. And this to the point where I might not pursue my dream job at UNESCO after graduation because I really don't want to live there.

Day one saw a leisurely drive through Brittany with a stop in medieval Domfort. Then through Normandy to the coastline and Mont Saint Michel. For years I have badly wanted to see the Mont. In case you don't know, it's a monastery and abbey just off the Normandy coast that was formerly only accessible when the tide was out. So when it emerged from the mist in the distance like a ghostly apparition, I could barely contain my excitement. The little fortification is just so spectacular. It's touristy of course, I mean who wouldn't want to see this place? Once you cross the causeway and head inside the walls there is of course an onslaught of tourist junk pedlers and food. But as you head up the winding pathways into the abbey itself it becomes easier and easier to imagine how it might have been when the only residents were monks. What else I can say for Normandy and its landscape? It is my dream to own a little stone farm house in the country here...and the food...I'm not sure it possible to put into words how much I love French food. While there are a lot of foie gras farms in this area - which is decidedly not my thing – too unethical and too rich, I can't rave enough about the crepes. How do the French always manage to make these things so perfectly? What, I want to know, is their secret?!

After spending time in this region I would have been sad to leave if not for the fact we were next headed for the Loire Chateaux region. Ach, what can I say? This was also mind blowing. The French style of castle is my favourite, and here they are just sprinkled so liberally throughout the countryside. I guess the aristocracy liked to be in close proximity. Our first stop was the old town of Laval on the Mayenne river, followed by one of my new most favourite places: Amboise. Amboise lies on the banks of the Loire, right in the middle of this region and is home to the Chateau d'Amboise within which lies Leonardo DaVinci's final resting place. You can also visit Clos Luce Villa, DaVinvi's house with a garden and museum filled with prototypes of his elaborate inventions. What a peaceful, inspiring place this was, and it was no wonder he made it his home. There were also visits to many surrounding towns and two of the more famous chateaux (you can't possibly see them all). Chambord was beautiful from the outside though apparently quite empty from within. The grounds were nice but not as elaborate as some others. Of course it was still stunning. But the second really captured my heart and imagination. It was called Chenonceau and once belonged to Diane de Poitiers as well as Catherine de Medici. It was famously built over the river Cher in the 16th century so that boats could pass underneath. Not only were the gardens breathtaking, but I loved the airy white interiors bathed in sunlight. Not stuffy or baroque in the least (Ludwig II could have learned a thing or two here), you could immediately tell this palace belonged to a woman, and one with taste. It is now one of my favourite places anywhere in the world.

Next we headed in the direction of the Limousin region (I never knew there was such a place), home to a very famous...cow breed. This is the farming area of France, super green, almost wild country side with rolling hills. Guess what? I loved it again. Except I didn't love its capital city Limoges. Limoges, you might have heard, is famous for its porcelain. But I must say that apart from a decent gothic cathedral, it didn't impress. It was a boring stop that didn't need more than a day. All I gained really was that I can say I have been. From here we continued on to more impressive places, namely the Dordogne. I know I sound like I'm showing off now, but I swear I am not – my god was this place also spectacular! It is the gourmet region within France, bordered by the Pyrenees on one side, Loire on the other. Once again chateaux are dotted throughout very green, very hilly countryside. We stopped in two towns here, both medieval and both quaint like postcards – Montignac and Perigord. So lush, roses blooming and climbing everywhere, the sound of singing birds heavy in the air...these places are so romantic (which is sad when you are travelling with your very platonic older friend). Little restaurants lined the river Dordogne, narrow streets were covered in flowers and mossy old walls, charmingly crooked medieval buildings. And the food, what can one even really say? Everywhere sold little jams, pates, and the streets were covered with open air markets stocked with fresh local produce – it certainly comes very close to my idea of paradise.

I was sad to leave this little region but excited to revisit the Riviera, which was our next stop. The coming days brought a sojourn in Avignon – loved this city as well, there was something very unique about the mix of the light and colour of the buildings, especially the papal palace. We stayed in an ancient hotel across the palace square, where the pope's stables were formerly housed. We also made a point to see the Pont d'Avignon bridge made famous in song – though it didn't really compare to other sights from the trip, and wandered the city's sun dappled and wind swept streets. The next day brought Aix en Provence, another place I had always wanted to see. Aix is nice, but I am sad to say that I found it a little disappointing. I think the sights from the trip to date had set us up to have ridiculously high standards.

From Aix we headed to Nice to set up a Riviera home base for the following days. Following past visits, I have always been partial to Nice. As well as enjoying being in the city again, I went off to Cannes to check out the film festival vibe. Even more impressive yachts than usual lined the harbour, there was some great shopping, but I didn't spot any celebrities (though that is not a game I am good at) – I don't mind Cannes. It's a cute little city, though maybe it was a bit too Americanized during this particular time. Also went back to Monaco. I love the views in Monaco but I have also been here before and found I liked it much better the first time. The scenery from the cliff tops is still spectacular (especially from this one spot near the cathedral where Princess Grace is buried), and there was an electricity in the air because Formula 1 was underway (my god it was crowded). Hearing the revving engines and watching the races far below from the palace, or even just wandering the streets in the city was fun. But I don't love Monaco actually. It feels too sterile and there are always so many Eurotrashy douchebags cruising the streets. No thanks. But what I do love on the Riviera are the little villages like Villefranche sur Mer and Antibes...I just love wandering the streets of these little sun drenched places. I hope I am able to retire here one day. I find the Mediterranean atmosphere relaxes you immediately. I also managed to squeeze in a trip to Grasse, another city I really wanted to see. Grasse is known as one of the world's perfume capitals, home to Fragonard and other potion makers. Honestly, there are some pretty sketchy areas in this town. It's a long walk up a very steep hill from the train station to the old city and I definitely passed some less than desirable characters along the way. But I love perfume and so really enjoyed visiting the museums and sampling the wares. From a scentual (I know, I know, worst pun ever) perspective this is a very interesting place to visit.

The trip was so long, and since I was lazy about finishing this post, I fear I have forgotten other spots along the way.. But let me say in closing that my obsession with France rages unabated. Sometimes I feel the deep unfairness of not having been born French – maybe I am having past life withdrawal ;)

Regardless, I feel like I won the vacation lottery with this trip. Now I can't wait to go back and explore other towns and regions that I haven't seen. France always keeps me coming back for more.  

Getting Lost and Found in Slovakia

Slovakia lies almost right beside Vienna. Actually Bratislava and Vienna are the world's most closely situated capital cities and in less than an hour's time it is possible to travel from the centre of one to the other. My collective prior experiences of Bratislava were seeing it in a Bond movie – I think there's a car chase scene through its streets in one – and an unfortunate run in with possibly the most homophobic (in the name of religion of course), and therefore utterly pathetic, female I have ever met who originally came from there.

It's a cute little city that sits on the shore of the River Danube downstream from Vienna. The main bus depot lies under a graffiti covered concrete underpass – not the most promising welcome – but from there you cross the street immediately into the old town. Admittedly these historic centres all start to look similar after a while, and there isn't much variation from country to country owing I imagine to the shifting nature of borders over the centuries. But they are still fun to explore, especially for history deprived North Americans like me. 

The Slovak language is tough to understand and to pronounce and English is not widely spoken, though you can get around somewhat with German. This means you get lost at your own peril, which we did. Many times. The inner city has many confusing narrow winding streets and alleyways and as is usually the case is topped by an impressive castle, a 'hrad' in Slovak, sitting on a hill high above town. This particular castle was rebuilt last century so feels very new, but it is worth the steep climb just to take in the view. On a clear day, should you be so lucky - we were not - you can see for miles along the river and well into Austria. And sitting right at the bottom straddling the bridge is a building called the UFO, serving as both a lookout point and restaurant. It is clearly a remnant from the communist era and by night shoots laser beams onto the city's main tourist attractions. How very Bond indeed. There are lots of old churches with the stand out being a blue church which somehow manages to look edible, as if it is made from candy. In this blue church, we crashed a traditional wedding which was fun to watch even if I did feel a bit guilty for snooping.

The city also features a pink palace with (for me) an unpronouceable name with walls covered by a famous collection of Hapsburg tapestries (it's all about the Hapsburgs in these parts). Bizarrely, despite the seemingly thousands of tourists out front, my friend and I were completely alone inside the palace. Not even staff were to be found in the rooms. This was weird because we could almost imagine what it was like to live there and in Europe you are NEVER alone in such places. Ever. There's always a guard watching you like a hawk and at least five people taking selfies in your way. 

To be honest, you can see Bratislava in a day, but it is still worth a visit. It is a great place to walk, being small, colourful, interesting and accessible. It verges on the run down in many parts, but I actually like this as a feature and feel it lends some personality. In my opinion, some of the more interesting sights lay outside the city centre. For instance, a ways past the Slovakian seat of government the 'white house' lies an authentic glimpse of what the city looked like from behind the iron curtain. Concrete, kind of sterile, and featuring statues and carvings of the hard working proleteriat. Yes, I detect Marx. 

Restaurant food is a little cheaper than in Vienna, but on the whole I think the constant influx of Austrian visitors means prices are pretty similar. I would not be surprised if this changes as you head inland from the border. The food itself is very similar to what you find in the Czech Republic, lots of goulash, stews and dumplings - good, hearty fare perfect for cold weather.

On another trip – proximity makes Slovakia a regular destination – I had the brilliant idea to hike to a massive castle ruin in the countryside around 12 kilometres from Bratislava. You can take a bus if you're lazy but it was a beautiful fall day and it seemed like perfect hiking weather. Plus I googled the hiking route and it seemed reasonably straightforward...according to some woefully outdated website. So my game, and brave, friend and I set off, but probably should have taken it as a sign that we already needed to ask for directions five minutes in. We found an old man who in very broken English tried to tell us we were 'crazy girls' and after inspecting what we were wearing tried to dissuade us from our mission. But no, I was determined to find this castle. So we followed his directions up a mountain, on top of which the sign posts (faded paint splotches on trees) already disappeared. It quickly became clear that no one ever does this hike. Anyway, at least from the top we could see everything for miles around...but not the castle. After many stops, starts and backtracks we found ourselves deep – and I mean really DEEP in the Slovakian woods. We ended up going up and down mountains at least twice, and realized at one point that we were following incorrect paint splotches that were taking us along a First World War historic path where soldiers hid themselves from the enemy. We also felt pretty hidden - from all humans. Eventually, after passing through a really sketchy village that no joke looked like the setting for a horror movie (wasn't Hostel filmed in Bratislava?), we found ourselves in the middle of a national park with five different, dubiously sign posted potential routes before us. We must not have looked as lost as we felt, despite the internal panic, because some random Americans came to ask us if we had found the rocket ship in the woods. Um no, we had not. Eventually we managed to flag down a man on a mountain bike who looked like he knew what was what, and he pointed us along our next pathway even deeper into the woods. This time we had to sneak past a bunch of shirtless red necks yelling and drunkenly brandishing power tools. Somehow it felt ominous to be there and my instincts told me to hurry away asap. Many kilometres and sore feet later we finally came to an opening and a country trail that led us onto a stunning route through vineyards, fields and less dense forest. This, I must say, was spectacular – breathtaking actually. Onwards from here it was still a long trek but we passed though the prettiest little country villages with super friendly people – for instance one old man had to stop us to tell us about his travels in Canada...for nearly an hour. When we finally arrived at our destination village we were totally charmed by it. The castle ruin is really impressive from both near and far, and is strategically positioned high above the river on a rocky outcrop. It would have made the perfect look out back in the day – it's both massive and formidable, and has a fabled watch tower complete with tales of heart broken and suicidal princesses. Ironically for us, after the hike and trouble we went through to get there we didn't have any time left to actually enter the ruin before sunset. But at least we were able to to walk around its base and admire the views. I must confess that  for much of the route I was terrified that I had gotten us lost deep in the Slovakian woods. I had visions of the sun setting and us slowly freezing in the middle of the forest. Anyway, we eventually made it and in fact the journey was ultimately just as interesting and worthwhile as the destination. If you go to Slovakia, Hrad Devin is well worth a visit - but maybe take the bus!

In Which my Year in Germany Comes to an End...

The last few months in Germany leading up to my Vienna move were pretty eventful in both good ways and in bad. It was a long, hot summer that continued well into the fall with temperatures regularly topping 40 degrees. Yes I have lived in South Africa and Australia, so this kind of thing isn't unusual in my world. But the difference is that in these places aircon is ubiquitous, and smart girl that I am, I have always lived near a beach. However, in an inland city like Leipzig it is steamy, swampy, fly infested and beachless, unless you count an old man made coal mining lake on the outskirts of town. It doesn't matter how nice your surroundings are when you are pouring sweat night and day (it still cleared 30-35 during night hours). It was to the point where I had to take the occasional sleeping pill just to function. In the office, in the library, it was almost impossible to be productive, to write papers, to think, to do anything really. Sadly it was during this time that my favourite uncle, and one of my last remaining German relatives decided he had had enough and expired. Funerals in 40 degree heat are another level of misery. The silver lining to this almost surreal period however was a visit from my parents. Of course I think about them all the time, but (and this is one of the the huge regrets of my life) I often go years without seeing them, except of course on Skype. Thank God for Skype. I can't explain why, but my first reaction was to burst into tears. I guess sometimes, even for just a brief moment, we all want to feel like a child again. And so for a couple of weeks I was able to do just this.

It was such a nice trip, revisiting the Germany of my childhood, meandering through the Harz mountains and little towns like Goslar and Werningarode, on to Hanover, then exploring far northern Germany including the marzipan capital of Lubeck and more specifically marzipan ground zero of Cafe Niedermeyer, Hamburg and then Rostock and Warnemunde. In our family Hamburg is something of a favourite city. My parents are obsessed with boats and all things maritime, hence why they are always on cruises to some far flung locale. While I must admit that after many stormy and scary experiences I prefer to have my feet on solid ground unless I am snorkeling, I love to at least be beside the water and maybe looking at it. I enjoy the vibe of Hamburg – it feels like a cross between Scandinavia and Germany, slightly gloomy and grey but very atmospheric. In fact, when I graduate I have narrowed down my potential future home cities to Vienna, Hamburg or Munich, depending on where I find a job – with Berlin as a distant outlier. I think I would be very content in any of the three, although Vienna is the front runner by a slight margin (but I'll save my Vienna raptures for another post).

Rostock...well it was nicer than I expected. It feels very Baltic, the light is really sharp, clean and grey. It is home to a huge university, has some really green luscious parks, an old city wall, lots of historic and colourful neighbourhoods, the standard market square. Yet it also feels really empty, like you really don't see many people on the streets. And sadly, when you do, they are often of the Pegida variety. The city lies on a river but is very close to the sea which means fresh fish and stellar seafood restaurants. Oh my god was the fish good! In fact I would travel all the way to Rostock just to eat at this one restaurant again. Also close to Rostock lies the old seaside village of Warnemunde. It is a little stormy in the winter and very windy, but the sandy, cobblestone streets are lined with the cutest old fishermen's cottages. This is the departure point for the ferries to Denmark – so actually I had been before but last time was a direct trip to the ferry terminal. I'm glad I went again. I guess it particularly appeals to the BC girl in me because I find the idea of being snuggled up in a 200 year old cottage by a stormy, windswept and sand-duned seaside so romantic. It is akin to the Tofino storm watching that lies close to our hearts in my home province.

Besides wanderings with my parents I also spent A LOT of time in Berlin. I really love that city. There is always so much happening, so much to see and do. I have a new favourite art museum - this one specifically photography: the Helmut Newton Stiftung. He was always my favourite photographer and the collection here is insane. All this being said, I'm not desperate to live in Berlin. I mean, I could – although in winter it is ungodly cold. But I think I am growing conservative and kind of bring in my old age because it is a bit too dirty and...stinky for me. Berlin, I would say, is a great place to spend your twenties. But I enjoy Munich's proximity to the Alps and Switzerland, and the little Bavarian towns like Regensburg (home to the famous von Thurn und Taxis - or TNT family)...or Hamburg's seaside location with its patchwork of canals. Both cities are somehow, in my mind at least, elegant with a certain style to them. I also finally made it to Potsdam, a lakeside city with so palaces it verges on the ridiculous, and back to Prague once more. I think I prefer Prague in the winter...dare I say, I was a little bored the second time around? I guess these sorts of places are always prettier during the Christmas season. Oh, and en route to Vienna – we decided to drive because I had so much stuff and it's only really four hours from Munich – I finally visited Germany's fairy tale castle Schloss Neuschwanstein. I have been obsessed with seeing this place, despite its reputation as being an empty shell filled with thousands of tourists, for ages. I have developed a fascination with the Wagner and opera mad King Ludwig II of Bavaria after seeing the 2012 German biographical film about his life. The fact that I have a HUGE crush on the actor who played him- seriously, this man might be the most beautiful thing have ever seen – probably contributed to my sudden fascination. Anyway, yes the destination is a total tourist nightmare and yes it also seems to be extra popular with the Chinese, but honestly the castle's location is worth braving the crowds for. As you are forced through at break neck speed by guides who probably have anther 200 people waiting for them in 30 minutes time, it can be hard to stop and admire the setting. But I headed straight for the windows in each room and the views were nothing short of magnificent. I am becoming mildly obsessed with the Alps – I really, really feel the need to live close to them. I must have been a mountain goat in a past life. 

Of course I also finally made it to Oktoberfest. A 12 hour day focused on consuming beer, or in my case radler, was a challenge because of my feelings about beer. But it was a bucket list item that can now be checked off. Things become more entertaining the drunker people get (obviously), and by the evening there was lots of lederhosen clad dancing to Germany's contribution to bad music, Helena Fischer. My favourite part however, was a hill behind the tents known unofficially as 'Puke Mountain' were the victims of too much beer go to vomit, pass out, or sometimes even pass out in vomit. Of course you feel a little sorry for them, but not that much. I don't see myself returning to this event, if ever, then at least not for many, many years. Anyway, this marked the end of my year in Germany, although there is likely a 'to be continued' that must be inserted here as I suspect it is where I will settle down after I graduate.