Good luck or good management?

A 6:29 wake up after a really good sleep and straight to the kitchen in search of caffeine. So many appliances that could possibly offer up a coffee fix but I took some time to work out which one to use. I found the coffee pods, figured out where they went and away I went. I couldn't find the sugar, and coffee without sugar is sad, but with the timeshifter app currently ruling my life, I pressed on.

We had prepacked for the next 5 day walking adventure so all that was left to do was eat. Bread, pastries, juice, another coffee and  we were on the way to the station.

Our previous Europe trips on trains have taught us that an unreserved train means a dash for seats. We did well and had a good trip to a place starting with B (this is where the editor earns her money) (Bayonne - Ed.). The further we went, the darker it got and the bigger the raindrops grew. 

We changed trains at Bayonne onto what was a one carriage train trying to fit all the people with hiking gear, a few bikes and the weird guy opposite with his Esky.

On arrival at a place starting with one of the 23 letters of the alphabet (I'm positive it's not x, y or z) (Saint Jean Pied de Port - Ed.) we were greeted with heavy rain, and the small shed-like structure at the end of the platform was packed as rain attire was put on. There were more ponchos than an entire series of Funky Squad (I've really taken my cryptic comparison to new heights and expect nobody to understand the reference, assuming that someone is reading this).

All these years of watching the tour de France passing through the Pyrenees and seeing the wet and cold conditions and I've just come to the realisation that this is where I currently am.

That picture is a mountain with snow on it. Did I buy my new rain jacket and Gore-tex shoes out of sheer luck or did I know it would be like this?

We went out into the sunny afternoon to the citadel. Then it became a rainy afternoon so we headed back to the hostel. Uphill with tiny wet cobblestones is not great.

Then the sun came out again and we succeeded in not getting wet.

I hit my 10 flights of stairs target before I had taken 2,000 steps. So much travel and so little exercise. We dropped into the tourist office and got some intel on the walk. Apparently there is some uphill involved. Who knew?

We got back, prebooked our 7 Euro  lasagne and dozed off while waiting for 8pm and meal time.

Of the 8 people at dinner, 7 had cold lasagne. Had I chewed, mine also may have been cold.

On the advice of the Manchester United supporter sitting next to us, the editor decided to have the lemon flavoured dessert for 2 euros. It wasn't lemon and she regretted it until they said it was free. Winner winner marzipan dinner.

Trying to stay awake until 11 for the last episode of "beat jet lag" didn't quite happen and despite all the weird noises around the hostel, sleep was very welcome.

Paris for a day

The long lines at immigration as Europe rolls out a new fingerprint recognition system never materialised. Mainly because they didn't do it.

The usual struggle with getting a new sim card to work always happens but I think we kept it to under 45 minutes this time. 

We got ourselves on the correct trains, got off at the correct station and dumped our bags at a small shop to store just after 11am (love Stasher and Nannybag apps!).

Then it was off to our Parisian nemesis, Notre Dame.

Since its extremely inconvenient burning down, we have tried many times to get inside, and always failed. Today we tried again.

For those avid readers from the past who have been saddened by our continuing failed searches to find Hard Rock Cafes, you will realise that getting into this church has presented the same problems.

But the rain that had our plane skidding on the runway earlier had returned. It was cold and wet, but we soldiered on and finally got to go inside.

Was it worth the wait? Nope. Sorry but I'm not sure it makes my top 10.

And just a quick note to the Catholic Church. The place has burned down once, yet you continue with this practice:

For those of you in the betting pool, the result was 11:22am on day 1.

We stopped by a Maccas to get our caffeine fix, although the 3 flavoured teas that were on the menu did not please the Editor. If you ever offer her tea, don't mention Earl Grey or the wrath of the tea Gods will come down heavily on tea cups of the world.

We collected our bags and started the 5 minute walk back to the station that had delivered us. Of course this event was met by cold rain. I will use this platform to grade the $49.99 rain jacket purchase from Anaconda 2 weeks ago. I really should do a review.

I had a sneaking suspicion we were at the wrong station, but just for fun I carried 2 brick-laden suitcases down, and then up the stairs. In our defence, there were a considerable number of similarly confused suitcase people in the area.

Back out into the deteriorating elements we went and way down over yonder we saw what appeared to be the correct station. Same name, different location. 

We arrived with an hour to spare, got on the correct train and sped off through the countryside to Bordeaux.

Outside we were met, after a 200 metre walk in the rain, by Jeremy and off we went through quite small streets that I don't feel were made for cars, and arrived at our home away from home. 

Emma was cautiously happy to see us until I got to hold her, at which time it was off to bed for her. 

A giant rissole between tomato (I imagine that's not what it's called in France), black rice and salad followed by a really nice cake and then to sleep at 11pm on the dot, because that's what the timeshifter app said to do.

The flights

Some outstanding meals with the ginger chicken breakfast on the last flight being the best choice. 

This was, however, my favourite - pepper chicken bar buns.

There was a lot of turbulence, but as I say, in the air nobody can hear you fart.

I slept when I was supposed to but Garmin, always criticising me, told me my 3h40m sleep was poor.

I tried some movies but couldn't get into anything, so listened to podcasts on my new Bluetooth eye mask. (Note to self - do not accidentally put this mask in the washing machine).

The Korean girls, all in platform shoes, at Changi airport amused me, and I got rid of some Singapore dollars from the past on the most sugary sweet red Fanta in the history of soft drinks.

Kudos to the pilot on the wet Paris runway as we skidded to a halt before disembarking from the plane onto a bus in the cold rain.

Timeshifter

Timeshifter is an app that helps you beat jet lag. There are highly caffeinated sections, living in the dark or needing bright lights and staying up late nights. It starts a few days before departure and finishes a day after arrival. Getting onto a flight and not heading straight to the movies, while having a nap straight away at 3 in the afternoon is tough.

But I slept ok on the shorter 7 hour flight and the longer 13 hour marathon. 

It's almost 4pm and I'm on a train about to leave from Paris to Bordeaux. I feel really good. Give it a try people, but beware, you only get one free use of the app.

Prelude

Let's go way back to that moment in January when we decided that living in a 2 storey house was not going to cut it in the future.

Three months of constant packing, disposing of junk, dismantling of an entire 7 piece wardrobe set, of constant back pain, moving into a smaller fully furnished house with all of our furniture and boxes and boxes of "stuff".

The people of Wattle Grove helped by taking lots of free stuff off our hands.

Good thing that last year we booked a holiday.

Of course the next problem was finding what we needed to take on the holiday. Finding clothes was an adventure, one that will be concluded when I find the black pair of pants that I had put aside for the cruise (turns out I had found blue pants but in the darkness of where I put them, I mistakenly took them as black).

Somehow we managed to get packed, and on our way we went ... and then halfway to the station on Heathcote Rd, I realised my phone was not with me. 

Somehow we still got back home and to the station in time for the 11:19 train to the airport.

Time for the holiday to begin.

Last day

Up at 5 am, 7 hours before our flight to fight jet lag, and made my highly caffeinated coffee. After drinking, it was discovered that it was a caffeine-free part of the day, but I went ahead and had another one hour later as I had already prepared the coffee maker. 

We left on our 15 minute walk, took a wrong turn (just one last time) got to the bus half an hour early and got the early bus. Check in was a breeze, as was immigration. The shops and food at Rome airport suck, but we finally did get arancini (after getting in trouble for incorrect lining up), and I finished it off with my favourite European drink.

A special shout out to European flip top caps on drink bottles - I'm converted.

So long and thanks for all the thigh eating fish.

My religious awakening

If you don't want to read what is in Italics, I fully understand. Toilet habits will be mentioned.

Regularity on holidays is a good thing, especially in the 7:30 am timeslot before the eternal search for a toilet can happen, especially here in the eternal city. We planned on leaving at 8 am. As time grew near, I thought, even though nothing seemed imminent, that I should try. Turns out, it was at the door, but just hadn't knocked.

With the threat of hot weather again, it was decided that our first Roman bus was the number 90. Of course as we were walking, the bus drove past. So we decided on a 2 bus plan from the next stop up the road, then the numerous 90 turned up at the previous stop. We ran back and luckily got on board ... and the driver got off to go to the toilet. But we did make it to our destination bus stop so all was good.

The thing is, with walking around Rome, that in order to cross a road, you have to do it via 3 other crossings. But we found our way up the 79 stairs to the road that leads to the Vatican, turned right and got further away. This generally takes four minutes to process but we needed the steps ... again.

Now heading in the right direction, we joined the 50 or so metre queue with the 100s of other 9 am bookings. At least it's only just gone over 30 degrees.

Through security without a hitch, it was onwards to find the Sistine Chapel to check on Micky A's masterpiece. To get there, you go through many corridors and chapels, all filled with artwork. Some brilliant but many just with people with swords killing other people. It's a little confusing.

Editor's note: I was very impressed with the Trompe L'œile paintings everywhere (optical illusions created by painting), such as painted statues and curtains.

Anyway, we made it to our much anticipated venue and it was good without being sensational (sorry, no photos allowed). I know that my art opinion does not sway a lot of people and I fully understand the difficulty and vastness of painting such a large ceiling, but in my opinion, the walls of the chapel,  done by others, were better. 

And standing and looking at a ceiling for some time is difficult and a bit dizzy inducing. 

We discussed some of the scenes and I couldn't understand why a guy wearing a nappy was having his right thigh eaten by a fish.Turns out it's Jonah. It wasn't a whale that swallowed him, but a great fish. Artistic licence, I guess.

Annette pointed out The Creation of Adam, which I had seen, and Adam and Eve in the garden. That is when my Religious Epiphany hit.

In the MASH episode where Hawkeye orders ribs from Adam's Ribs in Chicago, I had just assumed that the owner was Adam and he made, you know, pork and beef spare ribs.

How did I not see that it was a double meaning based on the creation of Eve with one of Adam's ribs? Is this some sort of miracle or am I just really stupid? 

OK, so the Vatican was done. We did make a purchase in one of the many gift shops for one lucky person and did note that the book on the last Pope had been reduced to 1 Euro.

It was now lunchtime and the pilgrimage would continue.

Back in 1972, my sister Lynne (I do apologise for putting you in the blog without prior consent) took me to see Jon English and Trevor White star in Jesus Christ Superstar. After the performance, I was taken to a newly opened restaurant by the name of McDonalds and had my first ever cheeseburger. I can still remember that taste today, mainly because it's exactly the same. What better way to celebrate your religious epiphany than by recreating that from 1972? It's rhetorical because Maccas was just on the way and easy, by the grace of a higher power. 

When did Big Macs get so small? Annette, not wanting to enter into the beauty of this most powerful moment, ruined it all by ordering salad with her burger. And to show the power of Vatican Maccas, you could upgrade your Coke to a beer for 30 cents. Miracle after miracle for some.

After some effort, we finally got our ice cream sundaes that had been pre paid for pickup later, and left the golden arches to 37 degree heat. Good thing I'm wearing a black shirt, black shoes and courtesy of a problem the church has with knees, long black pants.

Next stop was St Peter's Basilica which is also a pretty amazing place. I struggled with the downloaded audio and map, but eventually I saw it all.

Our booking time to walk up to the dome was 4:30 pm. By the time we had done the Basilica, it was nowhere near that time so we sat on some rock or marble in the shade, filled ourselves with ancient water fountain water and waited.

We eventually went to the lift, and after first hesitating, the ticketing guy was nice and let us through early.

One lift and 390 steps later, we had done the view over the Basilica and the rooftop. I'm sure our climbing strength has increased a lot in 6 weeks. Although Garmin has told me I'm retraining and is demanding running exercise.

A lift and 390 steps down

and it was a 24 minute walk back home, plus 4 minutes in the wrong direction and 4 minutes back. It was a hot 37 degree walk back, we had a quick rest and went looking for somewhere to eat. 

I suggested the trattoria with "to the right, to the right and to the left direction" that we had seen on day one in Rome. Annette did not believe my directional ability. It was there. But we ate at Old Bear. I went with goulash and mashed potato. Annette chose the special, price unseen, of fettuccine with lobster. My butt cheeks clenched in fear, just like when driving in France.

She liked it. It was a lot. I was still reeling from drinking a litre of sparkling water and a Fanta, but all was good.

A quick walk home, last minute packing and to sleep, exhausted from way too many steps over a 6 week period.