Andalucia - a few thoughts

Andalucia in Southern Spain is an amazing province. As discussed below, we went to Barcelona and I was whelmed. We then went to Valencia and was very relaxed, happy and full of paella, but still whelmed. When we arrived in Seville at the end of the week though I finally fell for Spain, and after visiting Cordoba and Granada as well I have decided Andalucia is probably my favourite region in Europe.

Tane in Cordoba

First, the tapas and paella are amazing. I also really love the Moorish architechture down here. We haven´t been to the Alhambra yet (although we did have a good look at the outside at sunset tonight) but the Mezquita in Cordoba and the Alcazar in Seville are fabulous. The Islamic influence offers a welcome change to the cherub overload suffered by the rest of Europe, and the buildings are spectacular.

We have been especially lucky with our time in Andalucia as well as we´ve met interesting travellers, and learnt a lot about Spain. We´ve been given freee sangria, and have seen a local band performing flamenco music. We´ve also been given excellent recommendations for places to eat, and I´ve had ample chances to practice my very average Spanish.

Mmmmm. Tapas. Made even nicer after using the old point and randomly select options method of ordering

I am already sad about leaving Andalucia in a few days time, which is saying something about how great it is here. Lucky we have one more month of travel to get over it, eh? ;)

Super mega awesome

As my sister Erin would say, La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona is super mega awesome. One wonders what went on in Gaudi´s head when he came up with the designs, but it is still amazing. It´s still under construction, and I can´t wait to see it when it´s finished.

In general though I was not overwhelmed or underwhelmed by Barcelona, simply whelmed. I am not sure if that is a word, if not, it ought to be. Barcelona is a nice place, and I can´t even put a finger on why I didn´t love it as much as Rome or the Andalucian cities we are travelling around at present. The best I can come up with is that it doesn´t have the atmosphere of other places I´ve been recently. It is still worth a visit though, if not for the Sagrada Familia alone.

Ruined

There are ruins and then there are Pompeii and Herculaneum.

History geeks that we are, we have seen a lot of ruins in our travels. But the volcano-buried towns below Mt Vesuvius take the cake. Ephesus, Paestum, Pergamon, Angkor, Luxor, Karnak, the Forum and the other ruins of Rome are all superb, but Pompeii and Herculaneum take it to another level.

Lauren and Stephen in Pompeii

With other ruins, almost always what you see are the big religious, military, cultural or political buildings - the likes of your Pyramids, baths, theatres, temples, palaces and castles. They´re splendid, but they don´t give you much of an insight into Joe Ancient´s everyday life. After all, what´s more likely to survive down the ages - Westminster Abbey or your flat? P & H were drowned in ash and mud respectively, so they were in a way frozen in time. Everyday life is there to see, from the ´pubs´ with their holes for amphoras of wine, to the ´beware of the dog´ mosaic in the doorway, to the frescoes on the walls. The pyroclastic flow that covered Herculaneum even partially preserved wood, bones and food.

Stephen in a building in Herculaneum. Note the 2000 year old charred beams.

Lauren, Stephen and I had a great time wandering around both towns, poking our heads in the doorways and bedrooms of 2000 year old houses, walking the cobbled streets with their cart ruts, doing silly jumping photos in the forum.

But every now and then we would get a reminder that a vast and terrible tragedy happened there. One house in Herculaneum is full of skeletons. In Pompeii the bones are gone, but the hollows left by the bodies remained to be filled in by plaster. Stilled in the moment of death, they are chilling.

This one's for Bill and Jack

Like many New Zealanders, my grandparents´ generation was the one that lived through the Second World War. My grandad Jack drove trucks in the Pacific and died with shrapnel from a Japanese shell still in his leg, while my great-uncle Bill served in Italy, including during the prolonged, brutal battle of Monte Cassino. On the way south from Rome we visited the town.

Cassino was a key point on the road to Rome and during the battle for it 45,000 Allied troops and many Germans were killed, and most infamously, the historic hilltop monastery (founded in the 6th Century AD) was bombed into rubble by Allied bombing.

Today there´s little to remind you of the devastation. The town has been rebuilt as nondescript apartment blocks, while the new monastery again sits atop its steep, strategic peak. It´s part of the lovely backdrop to the town, along with the Appiennes rising in the near distance, the higher peaks covered in snow.

The town´s museum was closed for the winter and we didn´t time it right to take a bus up to the monastery, but the Commonwealth War Cemetary was open.

In this sublimely peaceful place are some 4000 graves, each with its words and symbols. There are crosses, Stars of David, verses from the Koran in Arabic, Hindu scriptures. There are the many emblems of the British regiments, the crossed knives of the Gurkhas, the maple leaves of the Canadians, the Springboks of the South Africans, even a solitary star for one of the Soviet Red Army. And row after row, more than 400 silver ferns.

In the New Zealand section, with Monte Cassino in the background.

There were two other visitors to the cemetary, an elderly woman wearing a poppy and her son. It was Remembrance Day in the UK and they were there to lay a wreath on a British grave. The ring of poppies was marked with a poem and a note with one word: Dad. He was 28. She probably barely knew him.

Grandad Jack died when I was too young to talk to him about the war, though I have his medals and memories of playing darts in the garage with he and my father. Uncle Bill I met once, on a trip to the South Island with Dad. He shared some war stories with us. I remember one about a little Italian girl raped and murdered by some Algerians fighting with the Allies, and another about Bill taking a body out of a tank. The man had popped his head out the top and a shell had taken it clean off, the heat sealing the wound.

Bill is gone now too. In the cemetary, surrounded by the graves on a beautiful autumn day, I thought about Bill and Jack and the others who went to war. This entry is for them.

Roma: Numero Uno

Ah, Rome. This is my second visit here and about Lauren's fourth, and we have decided that is (against a lot of tough competition) our favourite place to be tourists in. We don´t count London, as somewhere you have lived is different. You don´t think of things like a tourist. You value things like parks, supermarkets and movie theatres a lot more, for a start.

We were thinking about how to rank cities as places to visit. For us, it comes down to five things.

1. Coolness of sights
St Peters. The Vatican Museum. The Forum. The Pantheon. Some of the most amazing buildings, ruins and museums in the world are here. Including this little feat of engineering:

Stephen at the Colloseum

2. Range and number of things to do and see
After two years in London, in which we saw something every weekend we were in the city, there's still a few things I've not seen that I'd like to. Rome's like that. There are more wonderful churches and fountains than you can shake a stick at, and you can't walk without falling over a Roman ruin. Our Western Europe Lonely Planet doesn't even mention the huge city walls, or the aqueducts running through and far beyond the city, or the extraordinary Theatre of Marcellus. These would be among the must-see sights of most cities.

Part of the Theatre of Marcellus complex.

3. Atmosphere
That X factor. The vibe, the feeling in the air, the people. Glasgow on a Saturday night, Paris in the spring. Rome, with its piazzas, rust-red apartments and gelataries, has atmosphere in spades. It´s a mix of chic, chaotic, historic and modern.

4. Transport
Boring but important. Rome´s public transport is only okay, but the beauty of the city is that almost all of the major sights are in a very walkable area from Piazza del Populo in the north, to the Vatican City in the west, to Termini in the east, to the Circus Maximus in the south. Pretty much the only time we left this was to see some fascinating catacombs just south of the city where the early Christians secretly buried their dead.

The Palatine Hill, where the emperors has their palaces.

5. The food
It´s Italy. Pizza. Pasta. Gelato. Salads. A hundred tasty deserts. Enough said.


of course, other people would have different ways of rating a place. Nightlife or shopping, say. But what about you? What´s your favourite city to be a tourist in?

Autumn

I don't usually like autumn. Granted it's pretty, but it also means that summer Pimms, long days, green trees and sunny mini-breaks are over for another year. Given that we are leaving the Northern Hemisphere at just the right time this year though I feel like I can really enjoy the autumn as I'm not so worried about months of barren grey and it getting dark mid-afternoon. It's quite nice this way, because it really is pretty isn't it?

The Old St Pancras church in North London

Daytripper

When I told my workmates we were heading up to Liverpool for the weekend, they said I must be looking for a reason to leave the UK. Apparently the city doesn't have the nicest reputation in Britain.

Maybe the reputation was deserved back in the '80s, when the only good thing about the city was the all-conquering football team. But not now. Liverpool was European Capital of Culture last year, it's had some serious money poured into making it look good.

The Liver Building. Legend has it that if the statues of birds on top fly off, the city will fall.

As Liverpool is a port town - once one of the world's most important - the main attractions are by the sea. We particularly liked the Merseyside Maritime Museum, which had lots on three great doomed ships that sailed from there (the Titanic, the Lusitania and the Empress of Ireland), the Battle of the Atlantic and, commendably, history of slavery and how Liverpool benefitted from it.Sarah, Lauren and Erica hanging out by the docks

Liverpool's not just famous for the port and football though. There's the small matter of a mop-topped band who had a few hits back in the '60s.

Though we avoided doing a Beatles tour, we did wade through some of the Beatles tat (as The Sound of Music is to Salzburg, so are The Beatles to Liverpool) and did the other obligatory musically-touristy thing in Liverpool.

Ferry, cross the Mersey

So the next time someone tells you Liverpool is rubbish - don't believe them. Any city that's been home to Gerry and the Pacemakers, Fernando Torres and John Lennon is definitely worth a day trip.

A note on Ealing

Yesterday Tane and I left the flat we've had for over two years and embarked upon four months of dossing and travelling. Living in Ealing has been fabulous, we couldn't have asked for a nicer part of London to make our home away from home. It's green, safe, calm and has the perfect number of shops and facilities, and excellent transport links. Ealing has a fabulous Council as well ;)
The "West Walk" in particular gets a special note. We've walked up it countless times, sometimes laden with bags from Tesco, sometimes in our backpacks after a trip. We've laughed at the squirrels, and tried to get close to the foxes. We've trudged through snow, kicked fallen leaves, and walked under trees in full summer leafiness.

Yes, we are still in London for two more weeks, and yes I will be in Ealing every day for work but it was still sad to leave our actual home there. It was also sad to realise that the two backpacks and two boxes we came to London with has somehow turned into eight boxes , two backpacks, two large suitcases, a laptop, a guitar and a mammoth pile of electronic crap to be recycled on Freecycle. I can only assume that while we have been away on our travels our belongings have been breeding.

E noho ra, West Walk and Ealing!

The easiest job in the world

Must be being in charge of promoting Salzburg to tourists. Alps, Wolfgang Amadeus, singing nuns - and a stunning old town packed with churches and topped with an impressive castle. It's possibly the all-round best long weekend destination we've been to in Europe - and I don't even particularly like The Sound of Music!

We lucked out with our visit, because not only was the weather awesome, there was also a festival on so many of the locals were out in leiderhosen and dirndels. It's kind of weird being in Europe and seeing people in traditional costume - normally what you'd see in say, Berlin, is variations on what you'd see in London, New York or Auckland. Jeans, t-shirts, skirts, etc. Watching grown men walking around in leather shorts is a bit odd.

Eins, zwei, drei ... flug!

And of course, it being Central Europe, the beer is awesome.

Cheers Lauren, for getting us to go!

Climb every mountain

Not only is Salzburg home to the Sounds of Music and Mozart (and boy, does the souvenier trade do well out of those), it's right on the edge of the Alps. One of the few things London lacks - along with beaches and the sea - is proper hills, let alone mountains, so we were determined to get amongst the peaks. And what better opportunity than visiting the world's biggest ice cave?

The Alps didn't disappoint. They were really dramatic, very steep and rugged.

The cave is high up an Alp so the views were superb. Nearby is a very cool castle that Alastair Maclean fans will be interested to know was the setting for the movie Where Eagles Dare.


Despite it being crowded and rather claustrophobic inside, it was a literally very cool experience. You can't take photos inside, but you can see some here.

One of the weirdest experiences was coming out of the cave. It was a gorgeous and warm day outside, while inside it's close to freezing. So when you walk out the door, you get shoved by this gale-force gust of cold air rushing into the open, which pushes you along for a metre or so.

The Hills are Alive ...

I love the Sound of Music. Growing up, my sisters and I would act out the movie, recite the dialog, and sing the songs. I have a memory of us trying to build the Von Trapp house out of Lego, and even used to wish that I had three more siblings - two boys and a girl - so we could be just like the Von Trapp children.

Jumping for joy by the lake where the kids fall in and the back of the house

Given that both Stephen and Alice have a similar level of love for the movie it was a real buzz for me to finally travel to Salzburg with them last weekend to see the sights and do the tour. Tane came along too, and was a very good sport about it, even letting us call him Rolfe.

We are 16 going on 17

The tour was fabulous. The only way to really enjoy it is to embrace the cheese, and throw yourself into singing "Do Re Mi" while driving around in a giant painted bus, so that's what we did.

The bus

I loved it, and only regret that my Mum and sisters weren't there as well. The Sound of Music tour is a must for anyone that loves the movie, and I totally recommend it. If you want to cringe whenever Julie Andrews opens her mouth, though, it would probably be best to stay clear of Salzburg entirely!

3 great things about Stockholm

Last week we went to the fabulous city of Stockholm in Sweden. Stockholm is charming, and home to a lovely old town. Here are the 3 top reasons why Stockholm is O for Awesome:

1. A city of islandsStockholm is exceptionally pretty, partially due to the fact it spans several islands. While not on the sea, I still loved being so close to the water. We also got to see the coolest ship that I have ever seen ...

2. The Vasa

The Vasa accidentally sunk in 1628 and lived in the bottom of Stockholm's harbour until it was brought back up and restored in the 1960s. The Vasa is also possibly one of the most amazing historical objects I've ever seen - it looks like it belongs in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, and is so massive all of my photographs look lame compared to how it looks standing underneath it. I think that the Vasa would have been worth the trip to Stockholm alone. 3. Moose!

One of the islands of the main city is home to Skansen, which is half zoo and half showcase of Swedish culture and history. It was an excellent day out, especially as we got to see a real life moose. Later that day Tane and I also ate some moose, but don't tell the guy in the picture. I am impressed with what I have seen of Scandinavia so far, and Stockholm is no exception. The cities are clean, pleasant, and pretty, and I consider Stockholm and Copenhagen the safest cities I have visited outside of NZ. Unfortunately they are also very expensive, so as much as I'd love to see more of that corner of the World will have to wait a while to do so.

Off the beaten track

One of the many cool things about visiting friends is that, being locals, they can tell you about all the interesting stuff tourists don't get to - like the Stasi prison in Berlin. Here's a few other examples from my trip Germany and France.

Osnabruck Rathaus

No, not where they keep German rodents - it's the very old town hall. This one is particularly cool as The Treaty of Westphalia was hammered out here.


The Gasometer

A 161m tall cylinder that used to be hold gas from a coal mine. The mine has gone but the Gasometer remains as an exhibition space. They had a really cool display on the Solar System.

Ulf touches the Sun

The bottom floor was impressive but the top ... wow. It was almost filled with a balloon painted to look exactly like the Moon. It was 25 metres wide and one of the most awesome things I've ever seen.

The Gasometer is symbolic of the Ruhr region. Once it was the greatest industrial zone in Europe, famous for coal, steel and smoky factories. Almost all of the mines are gone now and they have made a big effort to green the area and turn the old industrial sites into tourist attactions. The result is an attractive but rather strange landscape, filled with things like the Tetrahedron below.

View from the top.

The Ossuaire at Verdun

The year-long Battle of Verdun in World War One was the longest and bloodiest of all time.The hills of this area of eastern France are now covered in trees but beneath the leaves the land is still pockmarked with the craters of the 40 million shells that were fired. In the midst of the battlefield is the Ossuaire. In the grounds are the graves of some 15,000 soldiers whose remains were identified. Within the building are the bones of about 130,000 who were not.

For me the most moving thing about the place was a display of photographs of old soldiers from both sides and war widows. All were set against pictures of them from before the war.

Friends, Europeans, Countrymen

September has been the month we've fallen back in love with Europe. We got quite burned out with city breaks in the first six months of travel here, with going away about every third weekend. Then it was all about the exotic developing world. The trip to Normandy aside, we've not been in Europe for well over a year. But with our time in the UK coming to an end we thought it was high time we saw some of our European friends. And they really helped us have a great time. Lauren's already mentioned Andrea and Maria, so I'd like thank ...

Marty and Janka, who showed us around Berlin, one of my favourite cities, and stuffed us with delicious fondu.

Daniel, my host in the lovely, historic university town of Osnabruck and (like Martin and Janka) a good guy for letting me keep him up way too late playing Dominion.

Ulf and Nicola, great people with a great flat and great taste in honeymoon destinations (New Zealand).

Julie, Paxcal and Shistou the naughty puppy for a wonderfully relaxed time in the countryside of Lorraine and lots of games of Mario Karts. Best time I've had in a barn.

Miikka, for introducing us to Stockholm, one of the most beautiful cities on the planet.

You 're are all fantastic.

The colour of evil is grey

One of my favourite places in Berlin is the Neue Wache, a former guardhouse that is now empty except for a sculpture. It's called Mother With Dead Child and is by Kathe Kollwitz, who encouraged her son to go and fight in World War One. He never came back. Nor did her grandson from World War Two.

The sculputure is the centrepiece of a memorial to the victims of war and tyranny. It's hard to think of a city where it's more appropriate to have one.
During our trip to Berlin, Martin, Janka and I went out in to the depths of the former communist eastern part of the city to see some of that legacy of tyranny, at a secret interrogation centre for the Stasi, East Germany's secret police. It was a grey, grim place that radiated a kind of drab evil.

We were shown around by a former prisoner who as a young man tried to escape to the West. He told us of the two phases of the prison. The first was in the days of Stalin, when prisoners were tortured and sometimes murdered. There was a cell coated in rubber that they used to fill with water so the inmate could not lie down or sit without getting soaked. Then there was the punishment cell, a hollowed out wall where there was not enough space to even move. They used to keep people in it until they collapsed.

He then showed us the area where he was kept. These cells were much 'nicer' and there was no physical abuse, as it had been decided that psychologically torturing people was better for East Germany's image - it left no visible scars.

Prisoners were kept in complete isolation from each other and the outside world, unless when it suited the methods of torture. Three people were assigned to each prisoner to work out how to break them down. As an example of how they did it, the Stasi had our guide's wife write him a letter of separation, then left him in his cell with nothing to read but love stories.

"You can break someone with books," he said.

It seemed even worse than the torture cells. I think brutality is easier to understand than the calculated, bureaucratic destruction of people. It's like the Rwandan Genocide compared to Auschwitz.

After visiting the prison we went to the Stasi HQ, a colossal and completely soulless complex. Anyone who's seen The Lives of Others (and if you've not, you really should) will know the kind of ugliness and colour scheme of greys and browns that marked the East Germany government.

The size of the place reinforced just how much money and effort the communist governemnt spent on monitoring and repressing their own people. There was one cool part though - the exhibition on the secret weapons of spying. Fake rocks with recorders inside, guns built into briefcases, cameras inserted into hollowed trees or handbags, or ones like below that could be hidden in clothing. Real James Bond stuff.

In the age of the microchip it makes you wonder what they've got now!

A few days in Denmark

As mentioned below, earlier in the week I spent a few very relaxing days in Copenhagen. It's a lovely city, and I am impressed with the Danish people as well as how cycle-friendly the city is. The town harbour is especially nice, and a canal trip was my highlight of sight-seeing there. I had a great time walking around, seeing the sights and eating ice-creams. The only disappointing thing for me was the Little Mermaid statue. Yes, everyone had told me it was a bit lame, but I didn't listen and went there anyway. Apparently it's taking a trip to Shanghai in 2010 for some reason, and hope that the people of Shanghai have been warned that it is certainly a little mermaid and much more tiny-Pania-of-the-reef than Ariel.

Old friends

In 1996 two cool exchange students came to Freyberg - Maria from Copenhagen and Andrea from Rostock in Germany. With the help of numerous letters, blog entries and more recently Facebook we have kept in touch, and last week I finally got to visit both of them in their home towns. It was rad - catching up in London or New Zealand (or Washington D.C. in the case of Andrea) is one thing, but seeing people where they're from is even better, especially as we're moving home soon and have no idea when we'll be back in Europe. I'm glad I made it to see them, and look forward to catching up with them both again soon. It's such a pity that the world is so large though and NZ and Europe so far away ...

Andrea and the Baltic and Maria at Tivoli

Berlin 1933 to 1989

Berlin is a place where some of the most important events of the last century took place. There is so much to see here that relates to World War Two or the Cold War, some of it obvious and some of it less so. In the former category sits what is left of the Berlin Wall, as well as bullet-holes in East Berlin buildings and this mural of Communist propaganda found at the former Luftwaffe HQ.

In the latter category, though, and of more interest to me are the things that look simple and ordianary but are actually the site of something much more significant. A prime example is this parking lot, a place where we were told people bring their dogs to do their business and sometimes do their own business here as well. The reason? It is the spot of Hitler´s bunker in the latter parts of WWII, and the spot where he died.

Another facinating legacy of the past is Ampelmann, the green and red man in all the traffic lights. I would not have noticed it usually but was told that he is Ampelmann, and is the only part of East Germany culture to survive the fall of the Great Wall. Apparently when Germany got reunited the East Germans were happy to shed the icons from the Cold War, but would not give up Ampelmann. He´s now used in all of Germany, and you can buy an entire range of Ampelmann products including clothes and lollies. Awesome.

Jumping for joy in Berlin

Berlin is awesome. I like it so much, if I had travelled here in my late teens or early 20s I think I would have seriously considered moving here instead of London. The place reeks with history, and as I love 20th Century history Berlin is the place to be. What better way to express my love for this city than jumping for joy outside the Reichstag? None, I say! I regret not staying here longer, but like it so much it is now first place with India on my "places I have been that I must return to" list.

With our wonderful hosts Martin and Janka outside the Reichstag

Roots, part two

Having retraced some of my roots on Dad´s side up in Scotland, a couple of weeks later Lauren and I did the same with Mum´s family. Her dad, Jack, was born in Ilkley in Yorkshire and moved out to New Zealand with his family when he was just 14.

Ilkley is also the birthplace of Barbara, an aunt who has gathered a wonderfully large amount of information about the genealogy of our family. She, her husband George, daughter Jodie and partner Mike were superb hosts for us and took us on a tour of the town.

Picnic in an Ilkley park.

This being a part of the world famous for the Industrial Revolution, when the area was filled with cotton mills, I was expecting Ilkley to somewhat grim. It was the complete opposite. Having been a fashionable spa town it is filled with big Victorian houses and leafy trees, and with the surrounding moors covered in wild flowers it is a lovely place. I was thrilled to see that some of the buildings connected to my ancestors were more or less the same.

The excellent wine shop that used to be the furniture store of my great grandad, joiner Arthur Baynes.

The house grandad Jack was born in.

It was a real pleasure and a privilege to be there, as it had been to go to Alloa. But though I enjoyed seeing where my ancestors came from, I did not feel any kind of connection to the places. It reminds me that while decades ago New Zealanders still called Britain Home, my heart will always lie in the South Pacific.

Not that I would not love to spend more time with those good people up North!

Roots, part one

Back in the early part of the 20th Century my ancestors, like so many people from Great Britain, packed their bags, said goodbye to their families (often for good) and headed off on the long voyage to their new homes. Seeing where the Aikmans and Bayneses came from has always been one of the must-do things for me and in the last month we've done it.

First up was Alloa, the Scottish town where my great-grandfather William Aikman was born. It was a thriving industrial port at the time and though the glory days have gone, it is still a nice place. Very much a typical working class British town, with a mix of pubs, Indian takeaways, pretty old Victorian buildings and the ubiquitous chain stores - WH Smith, Boots and the rest.

Downtown Alloa

The countryside is pleasant too. It's similar to the Waikato, with low hills, plains and lots and lots of green grass. However, it's also where the Lowlands end. Just north of the town is the steep edge of the Highlands. This is the area - near Stirling, the chokepoint of Scotland and site of many battles - the Aikmans come from.

We went to the Alloa library, where a super-helpful librarian dug into the files and found a bunch of interesting information. They're very well set-up for genealogy requests here, as clearly there's a lot of us colonials retracing their roots. I imagine a lot of them hope to find a king, famous warrior or at least a ruined castle in their background. What we found when we went looking for the area where William Aikman grew was a car park, motorway, petrol station and supermarket.

An Asda, but not a castle in sight.

On the bright side, in Edinburgh's Scottish National Gallery I was gobsmacked to find a portrait by a different William Aikman - a famous painter. So there's some glamour in those roots after all.

Highgate

I've had a real appreciation of historic cemeteries ever since proof-reading Stephen's Master's Thesis and soon to be published book on that subject. Although many people find the old stone graves of people long-gone a tad creepy, I've always found them interesting and appreciate the way historic cemeteries remind me of my own mortality. Our visit to Highgate Cemetery last weekend was no exception.Highgate is a lovely cemetery - leafy, spacious and full of very photographic tombs. Some well known people are buried there, such as writers Douglas Adams (who very fittingly has a dolphin on his headstone) and George Elliot. Highgate is also home to the most famous person whose grave I've seen, Karl Marx (below).

Tane argued that the most famous person's grave we've seen is that of Elizabeth I or Henry VIII, whose graves we saw at Westminster and Windsor respectively. I maintain it's Marx, as I imagine more rural Chinese and Russians would have heard of Marx than English royals. Either way, Dad tells me that after World War II Churchill offered Marx's remains to Stalin as a gesture of good will. Stalin said no, for which I am very grateful as otherwise we would not have been able to visit his grave for myself.

Cathy! Heathcliff!

I think that Wuthering Heights is one of the best books ever written. Given my love for the book, I was very excited to go to Yorkshire last weekend to see where the book was set, where the Brontes lived, and do a walk through in the Moors.

Picnic in the Moors

I was not disappointed - Yorkshire is lovely and our hosts there were awesome . The highlight of the weekend for me though was doing an excellent walk through the Moors, trying to imagine Heathcliff and Cathy being dysfunctional and selfish (as they are for 99% of the book), and getting some sun. It was also great to finally get the walking boots out again, due to a series of injuries combined with bad weather and laziness they had gathered dust ever since last summer.

The house that inspired Heathcliff's Home of Dysfunction in Wuthering Heights.

After walking through the Moors we visited the parsonage where the Brontes lived - and most of them died - which has been turned into an excellent house museum (see photo below). The house told the tragic story of the Bronte's in a way that left me feeling very sad for them, especially seeing the sofa Emily died on. It made me even sadder for the countless other families that probably suffered similar fates that have been completely forgotten on account of not having written works of genius themselves.
Anyone that loves Wuthering Heights should visit the Yorkshire Moors at least once in their lives, it's a fabulous place and might even be the inpiration for you to write a novel to be considered one of the best ever!

It's not grim up north

Lauren and I have just come back from a fantastic weekend in Yorkshire, where we stayed with my relatives George and Barbara Carter, and travelled with their daughter Jodie and her partner Mike. They were the most wonderful hosts imaginable and, with the British weather finally coming to the party, we all had a great time wandering around the moors, eating lots of yummy food and drinking nice wine. We'll blog about it in more detail later, so for now I'll just post some photos.

The Yorkshire moors

Mike clambering up The Calf on Ilkley Moor
Above Ilkley, where my grandad was born. Check out the Victorian graffiti carved into the rocks.

A delicious dinner at the Carters' house.

Highlander

I've wanted to see the Highlands since as long as I can remember - certainly from when I first saw Sean Connery swinging his sword around the place in the movie Highlander. Then Braveheart made me hungrier. So on our Scotland trip I was determined to spend a good few days getting away from civilisation and travelling around the lochs and mountains.

Loch Torridon

We picked up a car in Inverness but - almost disastrously - on the way to the car hire place, Lauren (and her 20kg of packs) slipped on a battery and twisted her ankle. She could barely walk once it swelled up. Luckily she had lots of good books so didn't get too bored when I went out wandering, such as to the awesome Old Man of Storr on the Isle of Skye.

The Old Man, which appeared suddenly and rather creepily out of the mist.

We'd been warned about two things for the Highlands - the weather and the midges. And sure enough, the weather was a schizophrenic mix of sun, gloom and pouring rain - I think it changed about six times on the way down Loch Ness to Skye. Sadly the clouds rarely lifted from the top of the peaks. Then there were the midges. The weather meant we didn't go camping as we'd hoped, but we did get our experiences with them. I hopped out of the car to take a photo in the middle of some spectacular scenery, took a couple of photos, then noticed a tiny, fruit fly sized insect trying to suck my blood. I turned and saw he'd brought a few dozen friends. I jumped back inside the car and in a few seconds the door was open, about six came in with me. Midges are scary. You could see them rising out of the grass when we went walking near a loch.

Despite the dodgy weather and biting beasties, it was really good trip. A lot of people say Scotland is like New Zealand and it's true. The lakes, glacier carved valleys and steep, bare mountains reminded me of the central South Island, the high plateaus were like the Desert Road, while the winding, one lane roads and tiny towns on the coast were like being back on the East Coast (minus maraes). If you like the wilderness, I highly recommend the Highlands - though be warned Kiwis, they might make you homesick!

A Symphony in Grey

There are some cities that you never hear a bad review of. There are people who don't like London or Wellington, or even Paris. But, like Vancouver or San Francisco, I've never heard a bad word said about Edinburgh. So when we visited it had high expectations to live up to. It didn't disappoint.

Edinburgh: photogenic

I'd read the city called a symphony in grey, which sums up both its colour and the beauty. Built on volcanic remains, central Edinburgh is all grand grey buildings, winding grey alleyways and old pubs. And smack in the middle of the city is this wonderful piece of wilderness, Arthur's Seat.

From the castle, perched on cliffs on three sides, down the splendid, tourist tat-filled Royal Mile to Holyrood Palace, and beyond, the city is just gorgeous.

Holyrood Palace, where the heavily pregnant Mary Queen of Scots saw her husband stab her secretary to death.

Is there a city with something comparable to this mix of beautiful buildings, fascinating history, cosmopolitan atmosphere and spectacular nature? Vancouver and Wellington have the setting and the atmosphere, but not the history or the buildings. London, Paris, Berlin, Rome and the other great European cities I have seen have the past, the architecture and buzz (and all more so in one way or another), but not the scenery. Same for Washington DC and New York. Perhaps the closest are Luang Phrabang in Laos and Luxembourg City, but they feel more like towns than cities.

I don't think anything will match the love I have for Wellington and London, the sense of ownership you get when you live somewhere very, very cool, but I would definitely have to rank Edinburgh near the top of all the cities I've visited.

So what your favourite cities and why?

This photo isn't really related to anything, but isn't it brilliant? Go Lauren!

Strange resting places

A couple of months ago, we went to a fabulous New Zealand play called Strange Resting Places. It was in London as part of an indigenous festival, and was about the Maori Battalion in Italy. The play was, without a doubt, the best I have ever seen. It was hilarious, moving, and wonderfully acted by three Kiwi guys that played a number of characters each as well as the odd chicken and pig. The play was so good, I told everyone I saw the next day to make sure that they went before it closed.

Afterward, the guys handed out wine for the audience, and we hung around to have a chat to the actors. I was saddened this morning to read that one of them, Robert Mokaraka, is now facing charges after being shot in the chest due to an incident with police that he was responsible for. These kind of "person cracks for some reason and does something stupid" stories appear in the news regularly and I don't usually pay much attention. Realising this time though that not only have I met and talked to the guy but that he is extremely talented, funny and had a fantastic career ahead of him saddens me, as well as serves as a reminder that sometimes you can never guess what bubbles below the surface. It also saddens me that if he goes to prison, you will never get to see the play. It's had a strange resting place indeed.

A note on Glasgow

Glasgow is, I have decided, one of the strangest places I have visited in all my travels. First, everyone talks like they have a mouth full of haggis. Second, it is a truly Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde town. During the day, Glasgow has a great vibe. People are smiling, the streets are busy and Tane and I were amazed by just how handsomely Victorian the centre city is. There are also excellent parks, a pretty river, and the best noodle bar I've been to in years.

The Clyde

At 6pm, though, it's as if someone flicked a switch and all of a sudden Glasgow felt feral and intimidating. Rough-looking groups of young men prowl the streets, teenagers cluster in packs to drink their 6-packs. We went to two bars in Glasgow - one had a punching machine surrounded by men eager to demonstrate just how hard they could punch, and in the other I had beer spilt on me. I didn't take any photos of Glasgow in this state to show I am afraid - as it was I was worried enough that Tane carrying the Lonely Planet would get us mugged.

Hanging in the square, unaware that the city would transform in less than two hours

The next day, though, it was a lovely city again and I am glad that I have visited. I was glad, though, that we had planned to leave before 6pm fell again!

Scotland - a taster

Tane and I have just returned from a fabulous eight days in Scotland. We had a great time - tried haggis, drove around the Highlands, got lost, found ourselves in the middle of no-where and saw the most spectacular scenery I've seen since New Zealand. I am far too lazy to blog about it at length just yet, but will leave these photos as a taster of a few iconic Scottish things we saw ...

A random marching band in Inverness

Culloden Battlefield
A frightening Highland cow that I would not want to bump into by mistake
Loch Ness (and a monster)
Tane contemplates his last day of being 30 at Torridon

Mont St Michel vs St Michael's Mount

It's the battle of the English Channel, the contest between two champion tourist destinations. The prize? The prestigious title of Coolest Tidal Island Monastery/Mansion/Fortress Reached By Causeway What Lauren And Tane Saw On A Bank Holiday In May (yes, this entry is waaaaaaaaaaay overdue - I'm a slacker, what can I say).

In one corner is Cornwall's finest, St Michael's Mount, home to a posh old family who chose the right side in the Civil War, lovely terraced gardens, a bunch of retired cannons and a collection of various other cool old weapons.

Cornish flag flying over the battlements. Keep away from our pasties, ye swine!

In the other corner is the pride of Brittany and/or Normandy (it's right on the border of the two French provinces), Mont St Michel. Home to security-conscious monks and sellers of overpriced baguettes, set in the middle of an enormous tidal harbour where they say the sea comes in faster than you can run and capped by a stunning fortified monastery, it's famous for good reason.

Columns by the monastery's garden

It's a tight contest. Both places have exceptionally cool architecture and great views. But despite St Michael's Mount getting bonus points for having seals, many fewer visitors and a lovely chilled atmosphere, we have to give the title to Mont St Michel. It's just bloody magnificent.

And best of all, I could release my inner toddler and go out and play in the magnificent ...

... mud!

So, the original Mike Mountain is still the reigning champ. But do go to both islands if you're even remotely close to them.

Coming up at some point in the future, our favourite UK weekend destination the Isle of Wight vs the ominous smoking lump on Bay of Plenty's horizon, White Island. Green-hilled, historic retirement home vs deadly active volcano. Place your bets.

Soho & Gay Pride

Soho is one of my favourite parts of London. I go there for a drink or meal at least once a week, and always enjoy walking around, sitting in Soho Square, people watching and generally catching the vibe of a part of London that is like an exaggerated version of Wellington's Upper Cuba Street.

Today Soho was especially cool due to it being the home of Gay Pride day celebrations . I haven't seen so many fabulous costumes, rainbow flags, bright colours and men in tight clothing since ... well, since ever. If we're still in London next year am determined to spend Gay Pride day in Soho again. Let's also hope that by then some move will have been made toward equal rights for LGTB people in terms of being able to get married so there will be even more to celebrate. Times like today I am especially happy at Tane's and my decision to get a Civil Union back in 2007. We may get "married" at some point in the future, but the way I feel about it now, it won't be until gay people are able to as well.