Kew Gardens

A relaxing Saturday afternoon wandering round the gardens amongst the leaves.

Fantastic Mr Fox



Pagoda



Kelley and Gabs

Tour de France

Bevan and I took a week off work, packed up his car (the mighty silver bullet) and set off on a tour of France. We had no plans and the only deadlines we had to meet were our ferry crossings. Things didn't start out so well though, I found out the night before that we needed regestration documents, GBP sticker and headlight adjusters for the car but we managed to pick these up before our crossing and were waiting in line with over an hour to spare. However, the silver bullet had other ideas and was reluctant to leave. It was our turn to board and it wouldn't start. We fiddled under the bonnet as all the other cars loaded and as a final desperate act we tried to run start it, fortunately this worked but we weren't allowed on until we had turned off and restarted normally - fortunately this worked as well but as we drove on past a big sign advertising European break down cover its fair to say we were slightly nervous.



The crossing was fairly uneventful, we sailed from Dover to Dunkirk in 2 hours across a very busy Channel, there were boats everywhere. We went exploring round the ship and were escorted of the top floor by someone who didn't believe we hadn't crossed any barriers to get up there.

After a couple of hiccups upon arrival involving a wrong turn that almost took us to Belgium and working out how and where to get fuel, we were finally on the right track, or so we thought until a car was coming straight for us and we realised we were on the wrong side of the road but a quick swerve and a bounce over a traffic island got us on the road to Lille.

The next major issue was to find something for dinner and a place to spend the night. Dinner was solved reasonably easily and after venturing down a couple of back roads we found a good spot to camp, just off the road outside a little village behind a huge pile of what looked like turnips but we later discovered were sugar beets, of which France is the largest producer in the world. The sugar beets hid our tent perfectly from the road and we quickly fell asleep. We were woken abrubtly at 6:30 in the morning by a roar of machienery - a couple of trucks, tractors and a ditch digger had arrived to load out the sugar beet so we stumbled out in the dark, wished a driver 'Bonjour', shoved all our gear in the car and took off.

Sugar beet harvesting



Top quality camping camo....



After a rocky start the rest of our week was somewhat less eventful. The car perforemed its not starting trick once more in the main street of a little town completely surrounded by mountains and we had to run start it again up a slight up hill which was hard work.

Other mishaps included:

- being stopped by French police on the second to last day who didn't understand a word of English so didn't know what we were showing them (licence and registration). Luckily for us they just laughed and sent us on our way.

- our nightly hunt for somewhere to sleep. So often we ran in to signs saying 'Ferme' (which means closed) on the entrance of camping grounds. We managed 5 nights in camping grounds, one in a motel (what a treat that was) and 3 'camping rough'

- a rainy night down south near Sete on the Medeteranian coast. Fortunately we managed to find a camping ground by following a camper van. The tent got pretty wet and despite best efforts it also come up through the groundsheet.

- a freezing night in Chamonix. All the camping grounds were closed which so we were on a grass verge outside the camping ground and it was pretty cold at 1000m.

- a noisy night camping beside a canal. The canal wasn't moving but there were some funny noises including strange chewing noises, splashes and a sound like a duck getting eaten alive - not condusive to a good ight's sleep

We did have some pretty good times too of course. For starters it was great spending a decent period of time with Bevan which is something I hadn't done for a while. We got on pretty well and had relatively few arguments over directions, although we took a lot of wrong turns.

We did do an awful lot of driving which didn't leave a lot of time for other things but we did see a lot of countryside. We didn't go on a single toll road either which meant that we went on some more interesting roads.

The clear highlight for both of us was the gondala ride up to this place:



which was about 1,000m below Mt Blanc and had perfect views of the peak and surrounds. It would have been great to get out on the snow but we really needed crampons and ice axes so we had to settle for the fat American tourist style of sightseeing and go for a walk a bit further down. We did take a lot of photos though.....





Glacier heading down the hill towards Chamonix





Looking toward Chamonix on the way down.



Aiguille Du Midi



Mighty Mt Blanc itself



We had great weather for most of the week, it only rained once although it was quite cold a couple of nights.

Stopping for lunch / drying out the camping gear



Viaduct



We stopped for lunch at this place which was built on a hill and had walls surrounding it.



Dinner by the canal



Grapes in Bordeaux



Military cemetary near Calais



Looking down the Atlantic coast

Berlin

The dreaded weekend had finally arrived, dreaded not because of the company or the location but because of the marathon that Angus and I were running on Sunday and the fact that neither of us were feeling supremely confident given our less than perfect build ups. Nonetheless, it was a good feeling to be leaving work early and boarding the plane to Berlin on Friday evening and an even better feeling when we discovered that Jamie's father had a pretty good grasp of German. After a bit of a shake up through security in Frankfurt we made it to our hotel in Berlin which was right near the airport, so close you could almost watch the planes as they were driven down the road....yes, down the road, whoever said the Germans were efficient wasn't wrong.

The weather wasn't so flash on Saturday so after getting up early to avoid the crowds at marathon registration, Kelley and I got a train out of town and visited the Tropical Rainforest Biodome. This huge ex cargo hanger was home to a few trees, some wildlife, a couple of glorified swimming pools and some mean water slides and it was certainly a lot nicer than being outside, but it was a pretty strange place.







After the greasiest pasta I have ever eaten it was off back to the hotel for an early night to get a good sleep before the race.

Sunday dawned dull and overcast, absolutely perfect running weather. Haile Gebrselassie proved this by winning in a world record time of 2:04:26 - I was a mere minute per km slower which I think I'll be able to make up if my legs grow about 18 inches longer. I was very happy with my race though; I ran the whole race at a very even pace and finished with my best time of 2:47:39. Angus also ran well but faded over the last 5km which he was disappointed about and finished in 3:26. It was good to recognise the familiar faces of Kelley, Jamie and her parents around the course amongst the thousands of others yelling strange stuff in German.

Runners in front of the Reichstag after the marathon



On Sunday night we went out for a well earned German dinner and indulged in a bit of 'beer trading' where the prices of beer were dictated by the demand of the drinkers which was quite funny.

Monday was a slightly brighter day so we wandered slowly around the city, visiting the Reichstag, Potsdamer Platz, the Holocaust memorial, Brandenburg Gate and Checkpoint Charlie before being held up for over an hour on the plane as everyone had to get off and identify their baggage. We were then told that we had been rebooked on the second leg of our flight in the morning but some quick thinking and good luck saw us safely on the plane back to London that night, tired, but pleased to have made the flight.

Remains of a Cathedral in central Berlin, bombed during the war.



Potsdamer Platz



Brandenburg Gate



Checkpoint Charlie

Venice

It is not very often that a city break lives up to my expectations but Venice exceeded them. Kelley, Julia, Hamish and I had a great time in the sinking city and surrounds.

We had taken the day off on Friday and it took most of the day to get to the camping ground where we were staying which was on the mainland. After getting set up and satisfying very hungry tummies with the local cuisine, we took a ferry to Venice as the sun was setting and wandered through the relatively quiet streets to Piazza San Marco, or St Mark's Square.

Sunset on the ferry to Venice on Friday night.



Restaurant entertainment in St Mark's Square.



Saturday dawned sunny and hot so we took off to Lido Island in search of beach, celebs at the film festival and some clean water for swimming. The Adriatic was very warm but the waves were disappointing and the beach wasn't up to much but there was plenty of sand for an intese game of frisbee football penalty shoot out and the 'stick game'. Much to Julia's disgust, no celebrities were spotted although we did see the (almost) splitting image of Bruce Willis driving a boat. We took another ferry to Venice for more street wandering and some dinner.

Kelley dominating the sick game



Drying washing Venice style



Cruise ship about to head through Venice



Grand Canal from Rialto Bridge



Julia - air skipping on Sunday morning



Sunday was another ripper of a day but Hamish had to go back to London for work the next day, after a final farewell gelato. The girls and I did more random street wandering and found some tasty strawberry wine. We headed back to camp for dinner and to pack up for our early start the next day. Unfortunately we didn't prepare brilliantly for our early start as there was a bit of duty free to get through and a birthday to fake so getting up the next morning was a huge effort and was nearly a failure when the bus drove away without us - luckily some helpful Aussies forced the driver to stop so we could get to the airport on time.

Hamish, Julia, Kelley on Rialto Bridge



Julia and Kelley on the best looking gondola in Venice



Hospital



Pigeons in St Mark's Square

Bathers, Bathites, Bathish, Bathians....Bathonians!

A group of 5 of us decided to head to Bath for the last bank holiday weekend of the year. We were on the lookout for some sunshine and we got what we were after, all three days were brilliant and perfect for camping.

We arrived at the camping ground quite late on Saturday afternoon after I had missed a turn off and biked half way to Bristol. The camping ground was on the outskirts of Bath and was really nice, boasting a pub / restaurant and 5 star toilets as the key facilities worth noting.

On Sunday we went bike riding along the Kent and Avon canal. The others had hired bikes for the afternoon and it was perfect cycling, warm, no wind and flat, smooth surfaces. We rattled along at a pretty good clip along the busy path, passing canal boats, locks and a couple of little towns along the way.

Jenny posing as the others deal with maintenance issues



One of the many locks along the way



Perfect ballooning weather



On Monday we packed up camp and headed into Bath for a look around. Bath was really nice and we just had a bit of a wander round, checking out Royal Crescent and sneaking a peak through the pillars at the Roman baths. The main tourist attractions were quite expensive so we didn't bother going to them.

Royal Crescent.



We got back to a sunny London in good time, but slightly drained after a rigorous game of 20 questions on the train ride back.

The English Countryside

My cousin Hamish had just arrived over and we decided the best thing to do was to get straight out of London and down to visit Bevan at his patch in the country. So we took a train from London and he met us there in his fancy car which groans like a dying pheasant whenever you use the brakes and slips out of gear when you take your foot off the accelerator. It only took us an hour to get there so we had time for a personalised farm tour to absorb some of the marvels of English farming, including:

- 'The Avenue', which is a glorified farm lane. Having it tar sealed is an advantage but you have to behave yourself on it and there is not turning allowed on The Avenue for fear of ripping up the seal. The photo above looks down The Avenue towards the main family home where the 'old man' lives - this is a fair description, he is 102.

- the grain shed, Bevan's flash new tractor that he gets to drive and all the other machinery

- copious amouts of delicious wild blackberries

- fields (not paddocks) of harvested and unharvested grain

- fields that stank like shit (literally, thanks to the human waste style fertiliser used)

- no fences, lots of hedges and trees, and only a handful of sheep

- sacred verges of cocksfoot that are not allowed to be driven on or grazed (they get paid subsidies for this)

- millions of extremely hard pieces of flint which wear out standard tips on a crumbler within a day

- badger holes

- meeting the staff including the manager, the game-keeper and the chief tractor driver

- strips of maize and artichokes to provide cover for the game - see photo below



- pheasants, and partridges, lovingly cared for until rich Englishmen come and blow them out of the sky at £30 a pop.



- a buried crypt of an old church and old graveyard. This was about 50m from Bevan's door and he'd been waiting for visitors so he didn't have to go up alone.



- and of course, Bevan's pad



After the tour we drove to Salisbury for lunch and then on to a reasonably famous pile of big rocks where we paid our fee so we could walk around and get soaked by the rain, but it was worth it.



On Sunday the weather cleared so we went for a walk before heading to Winchester for a wander around and a visit to the magnificent and massive Winchester Cathedral. Very impressive. Probably shouldn't have taken any photos inside the Cathedral, but everyone else was so I did too.





After this it was back on the train to London for Hamish and which saw us safely home after a great weekend. Thanks Bevan.