I LOVE GOOOOOLLLLLD
Before I stoop to another Goldmember quote, (the only Dutch movie character parody I’ve ever seen) I should catch you up on where we have been for the last few days. We pulled into Gent with all the best intentions to see one of Europe’s perfectly kept Cities.
Sadly our time in the otherwise quiet little hub was thrown to the wolves as we landed ourselves in town for Gentfest.Every Belgian from near and far had descended here to get down with any or every musical genre you could imagine. It was ok but not what we looking for. We split pretty quick (I am a poet and don’t even know it) and made our way to Ypres. Success and an absolutely A+ afternoon in a perfect place.
We wandered for hours until the internal clock told Alli it was time for moule’s et frites.We both opted for white wine sauce. Such a good evening at a top notch brasserie. Our waiter spoke only four languages fluently and he worked the terrace of 25 tables like a robot. Nobody had an empty glass. Nobody looked like they were wanting for anything.It makes you stop and ponder as to how 3 waitresses at the Penny Farthing Pub back home frequently allow three very well paying customers to remain as parched as a fly on a camels ass from arrival to departure.
That Belgian man was indeed a professional and I went as far to tell him so more than once. Sadly another saga nears its close and I currently sit on the 5th floor of our hotel peering towards the North runway of Schipol Airport. We have been in Amsterdam for 3 days now which has given us some time to live a little like the Dutch (sans the red light district nastiness or THC lollipop consumption).We have wandered the canals, seen Anne Frank’s home and even replaced a battery in an iPhone 6 at the Amsterdam Apple Store.
From the old to the new is all to be tried and tested here. It is a nation of giants. Seemingly all Dutch folks ride bikes or scooters like the cast of Mad Max. The first one with Mel Gibson, not that other shit. Amsterdam is a city that tolerates almost anything or anyone.To say this city is liberal in outlook would be a definite understatement. “And the sign says long haired freaky people must apply”. Almost everyone of our stops on this adventure have had a cafe culture.Amsterdam is certainly that way as well but on steroids.
You have two choices. You can tempt fait and risk your life with the cyclists and scooteratti coming at you on the sidewalk from all angles and directions or you can take one pace backwards and fear not as you fall into a chair of one of the 4000 cafes (according to trip advisor) that line the streets and canals. The public transit is top notch and almost Swiss in punctuality.
I keep wanting to speak ill of London’s Tube or Paris’s Metro in comparison but I have to put it into perspective. Amsterdam has a population of 900,000 and London and Paris are 10,657,000 and 2,241,000 in comparison. I couldn’t organize a cab journey for 5 so I better check myself before I wreck myself. Sadly its over.We are checked in online and we are bound for the airport in the morning to climb aboard our KLM flight for Seattle. Thanks to Deanna and Allistair for making this trip one never to forget. Not too many husbands nowadays can say that they have celebrated a silver anniversary with their wonderful wife. Love you buddy! Thanks to the guys at work for holding the fort while I gallivant.Next week I will be back with my nose to the grindstone and hoping to quickly get back in the groove. Until next time!I am truly grateful for the well over 14000 visitors to this site over the years.
Cheers...Mark
NO EMBELLISHMENT REQUIRED.
I left you last time from my lounge table at the Holiday Inn Express in Affoltern am Albis. This is a pretty little town just a little north of Lucerne. Our afternoon’s journey took us through valleys bordering the Alps and early in the evening we pulled in shattered from the drive and the heat. In Affoltern we checked in and I got the blog knocked out, finished my beer and got up to head to the elevator.
Just as I got to my feet I caught a glimpse. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Three tour buses pulling up in front of the hotel one after the other.Not only was this a bus tour Mecca, it was the same folks from Interlaken who we had dodged several hours earlier. I picked up my pace to try to get on the elevator (one only) before well over a 100 bus tourists were assigned their rooms from their yellow flag carrying cyborg leaders. Epic fail, too late.
The procession had begun. Deanna and I looked at our concierge with sad puppy dog eyes. He took pity on us and brought us into the back of house to use the staff elevator to the 6th floor. I felt like a rock star escaping a throng of rabid fans “out the back door of the theatre”. It’s good to be an IHG Spire customer as several of my brothers in arms know too well. The following morning the breakfast area was like feeding time at the zoo.
If you felt like taking your life in your hands now was the time to try and jockey for position at the trough. I could not understand the bus tour banter however I think they were enjoying shutting us out. We regrouped and waited for the surly drivers to arrive and bark loading times and other orders at the bus tourists. It did not seem to me that they liked their job by their tone and facial expressions.
What I did notice however is that these fellows were clearly not to be trifled with and they must be well known for driving off leaving tardy passengers behind on a regular basis. That all being said the breakfast room cleared out in seconds and calm was restored. Bliss! The following morning was spent in Laufenburg, Switzerland. The place is spectacular. The photos do not do it a quarter of the respect its owed.
The remainder of our day was spent travelling through rural Switzerland and the black Forrest of Bavaria. We finally called it a day in Fruedenstadt, Germany. It was a treat to check in to our little Bavarian hotel and soon after we were into the middle of town and the Centrum platz. We made for the local Brau Haus and quickly got down to business with Pilsners and an unreal selection of pigs knuckle, sour kraut and schnitzel.
A wonderful meal served by typically grumpy fifty something ladies dressed in local garb (use your imagination). Dinner was fantastic but Allistair was a little put out by the amount of Kirsht in his Black Forrest Sundae. Life is hard for teenagers! Back to the hotel and soon to sleep. We woke not too long after and joined our fellow guests for a wonderful breakfast and then packed the car for our journey north. We set the GPS for Wetzlar just past Frankfurt. Wetzlar is home to Leica camera. It’s factory and world HQ. I have been a devoted fan of Leica cameras since photography became a hobby. Their history is long and colourful. Without Leica we would not have enjoyed so many of the photographs we call iconic today. Leica have provided tools for the best and brightest photographers to capture & catalogue history. We enjoyed coffee and cake at the Leica cafe’ to begin with then moved on to the exhibit centre, gallery and store. I have been lucky to own a Leica in the past but not recently and today makes me lust after one now even more.
From Wetzlar we moved onto Ghent in Belgium this afternoon. The autobahn and an average speed of 175 kmh helped with our arrival time but not my nerves. You think you are Sebastian Vettel as you rocket along, but furious Germans are on your bumper flicking their high beams incessantly so that you get out of their way. You think you’re fast, they go much much faster. Germany’s roads are scary but please go anyway, we met some lovely Syrian dial-a-dopers (economic migrants doing well, you might say) last night after dark in the platz.
I call them as I sees them and these telephone based narcotic delivery specialists were doing quite well for themselves by the look of their bling, several burner phones and shiny new Nike Shox (prison shoes in Canada). Anyway, we are here and resting before we spend the next couple of days wandering Ghent prior to moving on to conclude our trip in Amsterdam.
I leave you with this. Don’t bus tour. It really looks like the most miserable of times! And what do you see? You see what others tell you to see and then you wage war with your new friends (you never wanted) at the buffet every morning and night until its all gone and so is your will to live. It sounds shit cause it is shit.
Live well!
38 DEGREES IN THE SHADE.
An average July Sunday in Provence is slightly warmer than I can stand. I seem to spend more time looking for respite from the nuclear sun than I do anything else. Whatcha gonna do. This is what we bargained for many months ago when we began our planning. It was always going to be Provence but the specifics came later as we scoured Airbnb for options in more than a dozen towns both in the valley and on the hillsides.
After lunch we fired up Sven, cranked the air con and set sale for Chateau Conorgue winery. CC was used as the main set for the movie and as I learned on a previous visit a couple of years ago, had a lovely vintner with lovely wine. Upon arrival we were provided several wonderful vintages to sample and then chose a few bottles to take away with us after the obligatory wander around the gardens. The following day was about venturing a little further afield to Apt which is around 12 kms away to the northeast. We had a brief look about & visited the local supermarche’. We hustled back to Bonnieux to get squared away in time to find an outdoor terrace bar in the village that would hopefully be showing the England Sweden game at 4 o’clock.Success, and a table pour 3 was in a perfect location for the 75” flatscreen hanging from the outside wall. We sat next to a Swedish couple and their young daughter. Being Swedish meant they were all beautiful people. The remainder of the crowd was made up of French locals that spread hate towards the English between cigarettes and Belgians that sat there with their best smug faces.The remainder were sunburned English twats with poncey public school accents screaming at the TV in hopes that Gareth Southgate would hear their requests to get Sterling off and Rashford on.
If those accents were Mancunian or Brummie or even Scoucers I maybe could have accepted their pleas for change. Oh yeah, the most important part is that England were up 2-0 so whats the problem Rupert. If there is a god I will someday find my way to their local polo field or fox hunt so that I may heckle the shit out of them. Today found us on a slow paced drive through countryside with stops in Cucuron and Loumerin. Both lovely and both drop dead gorgeous. We had lunch at L’etang in Cucuron and enjoyed a fabulous meal. Even Allistair had his first foray into true French cuisine with steak tartare avec raw oeuff.
Ces’t Bon!
WE HAVE ALL SEEN THINGS.
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Most mornings I wake to ponder the day ahead and think to myself nothing will happen that I have not seen at some point before. Most often that statement rings true, however a couple of days ago as I stood in line at TSA pre screening in SEATAC airport I saw something I had never ever seen in the past. There stood a man two in front of me with a form of carry-on luggage of which the likes was unique to say the very least. This man who I will refer to hence forth as Cleatus stood well over six feet and was attired in contrasting plaid and camouflage. His singular proud tooth could be seen from space as it jutted at a right angle from his slack jawed mouth.Cleatus stood shouldering an overstuffed pillow case with what a young man about his local area would need for a holiday away.
I only know this because Cleatus’s pillow case had seen better days and was quite near the point of translucence.I am quite sure that this may have also been a first for TSA as well because Officer Yolanda was a little put out by the contents of the pillow case that had fallen out as it made it's way through the x-ray machine. I had forgot to mention earlier that Cleatus did not have any string around the top of his case to keep it closed in transit. In fact, I have to think that this may have been the first time Cletus may have ever been in transit.Some minutes later Cleatus left on his way and we had gone on ours. We arrived at Gate S8 in time to board our Delta Flight to Amsterdam. I usually have no trouble finding several humorous tid bits to comment on when flying transatlantically. I am happy (or am I?) to report that this journey was without folly.
Our on board staff were crackerjack and our seats were comfortable. Our menu was fabulous and the choices were grand. This is the first time I have flown internationally with Delta and I am very happy to say I hope it is not my last. The service and attention to detail is excellent. I suppose I could natter on about the 60 something couple in front of us. I would have happily spent time in a Turkish prison to cheerfully murder both for their in-flight antics but that is a whole other story and I want to keep this one slanted towards puppies, cotton candy and unicorns.
We landed in Holland nine and half hours later feeling good and ready to attack the day. Our first stop was at Enterprise to pick up our rental for the next month and we sat second in line for service. As luck would have it our attendant from Ghana as I would later find out was named Godwin. Godwin was happy and smiley and I liked him immediately. As we all know Godwin was about to fleece the shit out of me in the upsell game. Sure we booked with Costco Travel and as such got a smoking price on a Fiat Panda “or similar”. Now, as per usual the “or similar” was considerably smaller than a Panda and Godwin warned us about the cramped quarters and restrictive space for our luggage thank god.Just ten minutes later, under a Ghanaian voodoo spell we left Schipol Airport. I am at the wheel of a brand new Volvo XC60 with only 1100 km on it and we were rocketing south of Amsterdam with Antwerp in our sights (what do I know about Diamonds) & Godwin saved the day.
Several hours later and we found our way to Passendale in southern Belgium. This town holds a special place in my heart. I recently watched my eldest son parade here with the contingent of Canadian soldiers paying their respects to those who fought before them. The picture above is a part of a memorial commemorating 100 years since those brave Canadian lads pushed forward from the area of that gate to the church in the distance. 16000 Canadian casualties and ten days of wading in waiste deep mud to capture the town. Canada should always remember the bravery and sheer determination of our military heroes. Today our pathetic prime minister minimizes spending on our military and wastes those dearly needed funds on legalizing marijuana. So there you have it. A PM who wishes for Canadians to have unfettered access to hallucinogenic drugs. So god help us. Bust out the Oreos Mr PM, you can watch our military do their duty with vintage equipment safely from 24 Sussex after an epic game of C.O.D. and a Rebagliati .
Later we went to Vimy in France. Allistair and Deanna were filled with Canadian WWI history and we were comfortably checked in to our hotel in Amiens. Timing is everything and in this case as we flopped into bed the TV went on and there was England trying desperately to clutch defeat from the jaws of victory as Columbia netted one in injury time to tie it up 1-1. Certain things are like death and taxes and one of those is England losing games on penalty kicks. Surprise, shock, awe etc etc.
Jordan Pickford stood on his head and as the The Sun Newspaper quoted in its next days front page headline, “The hand of Jord” saved the day and England lives on to meet Sweden in the quarter final.The following morning in Amiens our breakfast was lovely and we bid farewell to our comfortable beds and our pleasant hoteliers as we boarded Sven and drove southwest to Juno Beach and the Canadian Exhibit. I have been interested in the D-Day landings since learning of them as a lad. I have had the pleasure of visiting Dunkirk but this was the first time I had been lucky enough to visit the area Canadian soldiers fought bravely to liberate on that fateful day. We wandered the museum and took in two films based on the experience to later stroll the beach itself. It is truly an ominous feeling to walk along the beach in the Canadian soldiers footsteps.
We left Juno the richer for the experience and set our sights for Provence and our ultimate destination. We were never going to make the whole journey in one go, so around mid afternoon Allistair started to work the Hotels.com app for places along our route that were affordable and quiet.We were not disappointed but our hosts were truly surprised as I ran from our car in a deluge that I have never experienced the likes of before. The rain hurt it was coming down so hard. I got to the door and I was met by a couple that have recently opened their 300 year old farmhouse on 4 hectares to guests. They were a young Dutch couple with two kids that we later learned over Heineken had moved to Normandy to escape the rat race in Holland. We sat at their kitchen table and chatted until midnight as we learned about the area and they learned about Vancouver Island. We slept like babies and woke to the smell of fresh baked bread and croissants with pots of apricot and lavender jam.
Thanks Hotels.com!
Thanks Le Rianon
www.gites.fr/gites_le-rianon_malleret-boussac_h907134.htm
Back in Sven around 9 and we drove 5 Kms to Boussac to fill his tank and to wander about on market day. An awesome morning and then we settled into our drive south to Bonnieux in the Luberon valley of Provence. The weather has averaged 35c since our arrival and we are happily tucked away in a beautiful French Provençal home for the next two weeks. Thanks AirBnB! We are now temporary members of the local Tennis Club and can’t wait to make ourselves more at home.Thanks so much Godwin. You are a star. Stand by for more adventure...
DUNKIRK for just 20 minutes
I had a chance to drive west quickly the night before last to see as much of Dunkirk as I could. I set the GPS for the Allied Memorial and let google maps do the rest. An hour or so from Lille I was there. The wind was very strong and it was cold. No complaints though as many allied soldiers hit the beaches here and overcame a lot more than poor weather.I only had a short time to spend so I took a couple of photos and got back in the car to travel to Paris and check into my hotel near CDG for next the next phase of my journey to London with a connector to KEF airport in Iceland. Join you again from the Icelandic town of Selfoss..M.
THE MENIN GATE.
I arrived 90 minutes before schedule and it was already busy with people on the parade route. As I should have known the police where there in force and had already erected barriers to stop foot traffic from gaining access to the gate. Because Ypres is a medieval city it is walled and a somewhat circular river surrounds it. I had a quick chat with a Belgian policeman and he sent me Northwest to the next bridge into the city.
The streets and paths were busy with joggers and cyclists going about their morning. The swans and ducks were floating below the footbridge that I eventually crossed to enter the city through small archway in the ramparts. Once inside I had time to stop into a typical yet excellent patisserie to pick up a couple of pain au chocolate (of course I had time). With one in my gob and one in reserve I hustled off towards the parade route.A spit of rain met me about 25 meters from Menin and it was there where I found a gap in the crowd to take a tactical position on the barricades. To my left was an elderly couple from Northern Ireland. The good lady was very chatty so she was. To my right was a young mom and her 10 year old daughter. We hit it off quickly and soon after I knew a lot more about the city, region and the ceremony. Her 15 year old son was drumming in the local pipe and drum band. She explained that they had the honour of leading the parade to greet the Canadian Soldiers when they arrived. Although this lady’s son had been a practicing member of the band for two years, this was his first time being allowed to perform in front of dignitaries.As we chatted I failed to realize that now both sides of the street had filled with onlookers and they now appeared to be 6 deep. We hung over the railing in anticipation. In the very far off distance we could hear the drone of the pipes.[wpvideo oZ1Y666p]This gave Mary and George to my left time tell me all about their Alaskan cruise and the stop they made in Victoria to meet friends they hadn’t seen in donkeys years so they did. They were actually lovely and very honoured to be there to support the Canadians.Around us were Veterans of all ages, smartly turned out in suits or blazers along with their regimental berets with gleaming cap badges. Most were British by my estimation. Nevertheless, whether they got there by plane, train, cain, walking sticks or wheel chair they got there. Their banter indicated that they were proud to have made it and as time moved on, conversations morphed to where they were going after and who was buying the first round!
The local band was nearing us now and they sounded very good. I watched intently at my new friend and her daughter as her son marched passed playing his drum. She filmed it on her phone as they both cried pridefully. The Belgians do remember. They feel it a privilege to show their appreciation for others who placed their life on the line to help free them. They clearly feel that they must honour the Commonwealth Soldiers efforts to help them during the Great War.I don’t know what it is lately, but there again and not for the last time today came that rush of emotion and I battled to hide my tears watching them. Once the pipes and drums passed us by and took up their receiving position through the gate, we then watched as a couple of hundred dignitaries walked, hobbled or marched past. Once again, vets being pushed in wheel chairs or being supported under each arm by younger family members.Then came the Canadian Army band. In definite tune and playing with gusto. Remember now the tens of thousands lining the route and I am sure the captain in charge realized it as he conducted them on the approach to Menin. Next it was my time to try to keep it together as I could see Mackenzie in the offing and nearing our position.
I snapped a few pictures for retrospect but then quickly let my camera dangle around my neck so I could enjoy the moment. I hate to sound overbearing but this was a day that I will never forget. A true father son moment. I have watched him over the years do some awesome things in awesome venues as an athlete but I must admit this took the cake.
As the Canadians took their place at the Menin Gate the remainder of the parade filled in behind them. There were representatives from a Punjabi regiment, firemen, policemen, and many other groups of organized veteran groups. A true spectacle!
Try as I might I was unable to catch up with Mac to shake his hand but a short while later he called to ask if I would meet them at Hill 62 for the afternoon’s ceremony.I walked back to my car but this time getting to walk under the Menin Gate myself. I read a few of the inscriptions and paused for thought. The enormity and gravity of this place is breathtaking. I eventually made it back to the car and typed Hill 62 into Google Maps. Low and behold it knew how to get there so off I went. Another moving ceremony that I have already captured in brief on a facebook post.
Tomorrow I am off to take in Vimy Ridge. This has been a special day!CheersMark