Oct 05

14.10.2005

600 years after Columbus sailed to China to visit my ancestors, I decided to return the favour. A bit of background history on Spain is necessary I think in order for one to appreciate the beauty of the country and the culture of its proud citizens. Around 400AD, Romanic Hispania was overrun by German tribes before the the Moors (Muslims from North Africa) conquered Spain in 700AD and for the next 700 years under their rule, Islamic Spain (known then as Al-Andalus) prospered in the arts and science. The Christians laid seige on the country again by end of 14th century and under Queen Isabel and King Fernando who united spain under a catholic rule (the Spanish Inquisition revived), they laid the foundation for Spain´s golden age of world exploration, discovery of new colonies and spreading of imperialism in the guise of religious salvation.

To see all of Spain, I would probably need a month, which unfortunately is a luxury I cannot afford. As we´re heading into winter in Europe, I decided the best region of Spain to visit this time of the year would be the south, known as the Andulusia, where sun worshippers continue to soak up the rays right to December, where they could possibly catch the chill, after all, it can be as cold as 25 degrees! Your eyes are not playing tricks on you and it´s no typo on my behalf. I was about to discover just how potent the influence that the Moorish had over Spain.

Carmona

Car-whaa?! Exactly my response too when I first discovered that the hostel I´ve booked when googling under ´hostel in Seville (original destination)´ turned out to be located in this small Spanish town 25km northwest of Seville. As it is customary with all hostel bookings via the internet, if you simply don´t show up on the night booked, they reserved the right to charge you at least one night´s accomodation. As you can imagine what foul mood I was in when I discovered that in addition to having to spend a night so far away from the city I originally wanted to see, I also had to spend at least an hour and a half´s travel over two different busses to get there.

Upon disembarking from the plane, my first impression of Spain is it was hot!! I mean it was 5 in the evening and it would have easily been 32 degrees with 110% humidity! The weather made it that much easier for me to sit seething with fury in the bus all the way to Carmona, carefully planning all the nasty things I was going to say to the hostel staff for their underhand manipulation of the sacred google search in dragging me into their town! Of course I realised there would be a 99% guarantee that none of them would be able to understand a word I said as unlike most of its neighbours, Spanish people only speak Spanish, not because they refuse too (like the French) but because they really didn´t know a single word in English, even in most frequented tourist places like airports, train stations, hostels and restaurants. Understand me or not, I was going to make sure that they would be made aware that despite my booking of 2 nights accomodation with them, I would leave as early as possible after a night to go back to Seville where I originally intended to go.

As we headed away from Seville and into a desert area where as far as the eyes can see, there´s nothing but khaki coloured powder of dust. This of course did nothing but strengthen my resolve and opinion that I have been duped to spend an evening in the middle of no where and wasting a valuable travelling day. To make the day worst, of course I had no idea exactly where to get off the bus as I doubt very much there would be a huge sign up saying ´Welcome to Carmona, Paradise for Dumb Tourists´. So I had to rely on the good ol sign language in imploring on the assistance of the locals as to whether each stop we came to was the one I was meant to get off. Remarkably, the day´s saving grace so far was the friendliness and helpfulness of the local Spanish people who despite my frantic gesticulations and pathetic attempt at their language, were determined to help and their constant yelling NO at me each time the bus came to a stop and I looked like I was going to disembark paid off finally when we reached the town and they finally consented to my getting off, I smiled gratefully as I dragged my turtle shell and walked towards the town.

The first sight that greeted me was this imposing brick fortress, which I later learnt was the Fortress of the Gate to Seville. As you will see from the pictures later how impressive this building was. A few steps further I came across the Church of San Pedro, the town´s main worship centre. As I walked further, small Spanish kids chasing one another came to a sudden halt with a puzzled look on their faces as they came face to face with a ´China´with my enormous backpack, they probably thought I was a middleage mutant ninja turtle. Soon their faces of awe turned to that of warmth and friendliness as they called out shyly, giggling before resuming their game of ´cops and robbers´. A few more churches and old Moorish buildings went by before I arrived at the Palacio Marquess de la Torres (translate to Mansion of the Mayor of the Town), which it might have been hundreds of years ago but today, it was where I was about spend the night...and at that moment, I decided, the night after as well. Well, there were plenty to see obviously but also I had a travellers intuition that my education, experience and exposure to Spanish life and history couldn´t get off to a better start than to enter into the heart of Andulusia (what southern region of Spain is called )where you can clearly hear and feel the pulsating heartbeats of its people through the inhabitants of the small cosy Carmona.

By the time I found the Palacio, I was pretty much delighted with my 'accidental' visit to this town and was pretty much looking forward to my stay. This sentiment was further improved by being greeted by Sara, the hostel manager who speaks reasonably good English! She was so helpful as to settling me in and suggesting places to go for great Spanish food and where to visit etc. As she was a local, her suggestions and advice were truly appreciated. The hostel is very bright and sunny, clean and you can smell a mix of wonderful flowers growing in the garden and the pine wood which formed part of the foundation of the hostel. My room was actually a dorm of 4 beds but since it wasn't busy (can't imagine it ever being busy in Carmona), I had the entire dorm room to myself for a 20 Euros per night, excellent!

After settling in, I caught up with Sara explaining how I was getting hungry which she found surprising as the Spanish have lunch like 3pm after their afternoon siesta (nap) and often don't have dinner until like 9:30 or 10pm and it was only 7pm and Sarah was worried that many places may not be opened yet! Incredible..however, upon my indication to try the local food, she suggested a great cafe to sample the 'tapas' which is a form of Spanish ´dim sum´if you like, often made up of small dishes like potatoes in some sort of sauce or another, beef in tomato sauce or a plate of fried squid or fish, each only costing like 2 Euros. With prices like that, I was more than happy to sample this local cuisine and so I head off and to my delight, these small plates of food were as delicious (and affordable) as Sara suggested.

Another thing I found in Carmona (and confirmed in other parts of Spain later) that their ordinary cup of coffee here costing 1 Euro per cup is pretty much equivallent to the best coffee you can find anyhere in NZ. Serioiusly people, if you're a coffee lover, Spain is where you want to be. They make Starbucks coffee taste as exciting as mudwater, and at the price you pay there, why would you want to go there??!

Over a cup of this aromatic strong coffee and serenaded by the Spanish music (which you can easily recognise with the strong accompanying of feverish stringing of the guitar to a Spanish singer's crooning), I set down to plan my next day's journey in Carmona. Strolling home after dinner was interesting as it gave me a taste of what the Spanish are on the road..

It is hard to describe except to say, imagine this: Really small narrow roads (width of a car, literally!), with cars and small but annoyingly loud scooters) tearing down at neck breaking speed, threatening to run over anything in their ways, tooting and shouting obscenities or greetings to other fellow villagers, all very hectic and rather out of place really for a small quaint town such as Carmona where you almost expect everyone to be asleep by 10pm. Ahh but my friend, this is Spain...where the nightlife (even in small towns) do not begin until at least from midnight onwards. Anyhow, I would strongly advise anyone from investing in setting up a motor vehicle insurance company in Spain..you'll find yourself bankrupt almost as quickly you get run over on the street.

The other interesting thing I noticed during my evening walk was how the Spanish loved to dress up. Be it adults, teenagers or even children as young as 7 or 8, at night, they're in their best clothing, almost every girl is done up like they're trying to win the Prom Queen.

When I got back to the hostel, Sara was still there working away but was happy to stop for a quick break while we chatted and became quick friends. She's the loveliest person and like many Spanish women, possess the Latina beauty in abundance. As you can see from our pictures below, I'm but a sorry thorn beside this Hispanic rose.

Sarah & me in the garden of the Palacio.

15.10.2005

Under Sara's great guidance, I was able to see all the interesting parts of Carmona in one day. I'll let the pictures do the talking aye?

View of the Church of San Pedro. The tower is a replica of the beautiful tower of the Cathedral of Seville as I later discovered.

This is the famous Alcazar de la Puerta de Seville, the fortress that greeted me the first day I arrived in Carmona. This fortress initially built before the Romans conquered Spain was so difficult to penetrate that Alexander the Great even mentioned it in his war journals, describing its invincibility. Of course, they did eventually penetrate it and ruled it until they were defeated by the Moorish who then extended it to what it resemble today. Very impressive..

The day I toured around Carmona, was a Saturday which Sara informed me is the favourite day for the Spanish to get married, which probably explained why I came across like 6 weddings just in the village alone that day! This one held at the San Pedro church showed the wedding car with cactus tied at the end of the car. Sara said that this is typical of the Spanish to play some sort of crazy joke on a friend's wedding day. It could be worst I guess...

One of the many fortress gates that guard the city. This one is located in the south. Very beautifully reflected by the evening sun.

A typical architecture for a house in Spain, even in the colour white, which is used more prominently in the centre of town or villages. Sara was helpful to point out that this feature, together with the fact that most Spanish homes have two front doors, with the outer one constantly left open to let in the sun as the Spanish believe that it is a blessing to have the sun shine on, and into the house, hence the white colour exterior to reflect the brightness of the house and the opening of the outer front door. Another common feature in Spanish homes are elaborate looking courtyard, almost like NZ'ers and their gardens. Often there's a fountain in the centre and lots of plants adorning it..a place for rest and siesta I guess!

There were many photos I took which I will share with you back home. Suffice to say, it was a great day spent in the sun in Carmona. You will see while I'm in Spain, I'm getting more and more tanned under their beautiful sun. Already today it was something like 29 degrees! Oh, I wish I packed more shorts and singlets!

In the evening, I took another opportunity to walk around the city at night, enjoying the fiesta atmosphere of the locals. I found even when they don't understand a single word or gesture I threw at them and where this would frustrate even the most patient of locals, it did not in anyway hinder the very very friendly and helpful locals in trying to assist me or understand and fulfil my every needs. They really know how to make you feel welcomed. I am lucky that my first visit to Spain have been in Carmona.

It is rare enough even in large Spanish cities to spot Asians but in Carmona, I might as well be a 3 headed Alien that just landed from Venus and from my poor Spanish language skills, I could have very well been asking the locals to take me to their leaders when asking for a cup of coffee. So boy was I gawked and stared at but in a good way I guess. The Spanish men all thought I was this exotic creature as they chanted 'China chica!!' (Chinese babe) whenever I walked past, some tried to talk to me, others were just happy to wolfwhistle. Mind you, I can assure you that I don't think it's because I'm beautiful, but like I said, novelty can make even the plainest of birds seem like a peacock, no? I will admit though to being quite flattered by all this attention, except when I was walking past this small bar. One of the Spanish men in a group of about 12 shouted 'China Chica!' and all his mates turned around and they all started shouting and yelling for me to come join them. A few of them were even starting to approach me. Like the rabbit that I am, I scampered away quickly into the safety of the dark night.

AO Rating: They say that first impressions last..and Carmona while not originally part of my destinations have indeed proved to be a great introduction to what Spain is...the warmth, from the sun and also from the hospitality of its people, the boldness in terms of the colour of the city, the people and their clothing and the fact that I wished I have learnt at least some Spanish before coming here!

Next, I am off to Seville! Buenos noches! (Good night!)

11.10.2005

While Prague is famous for its 1001 castles, Vienna meanwhile certainly claims the title to the City of Museums with a modest number of 73 (and counting apparently). These museums range from history of Austria, to that of music, art, culture and even psychology. There's even museums of globes, horse carriages and silverware. This city was also the home of Mozart, Sigmund Freud and Johann Strauss!

Perhaps having such infamous residents prompted the city of Vienna to feel justified in charging the arms and legs for everything. Of course it is not as expensive as London and Paris, but then again, you don't expect Vienna to be in the same league as London and Paris right? Well, that's what I thought before I launched the Chino-Austrian Invasion...but my impression was about to change..

Originally, I couldn't find hostels (at prices that won't make me yell "daylight robbery!")in the city and was contemplating setting up base in good ol cheapo Bratislava and commuting by train each day to Vienna which only takes an hour each way. Interesting fact too about Vienna is that unlike the other cities I've visited so far, most of the hostels are not located within the inner city. The closest ones are like 25 minutes walk or so away. Luckily their metro service is super efficient (and free because they don't have a turn-stile for you to insert your metro tickets to access the train).

Gheri (Italian friend that I was hanging out with in Bratislava) came with me to check out Vienna before flying back to Milan. So we set out really early in the morning to catch the train. It was a bit of a rush, we had to run...of course I was accustomed to this chaos (cut out your knowing looks or I'll take you off my x'mas card list!) but poor Gheri had to run twice as fast to keep up with my long strides (I'm sure he'd taken me off his x'mas card list *sigh*)

We made it into the train with 3 minutes to spare, plenty of time from my perspective, which of course wasn´t shared by the panting Gheri judging from the many dagger looks he threw me.

We decided upon arrival at the train station that we would head straight into the heart of the city, where the city´s main cathedral (yes, there´s a few of them), St Stephen was located. Upon emerging from the underground metro station, we were greeted by men dressed in old costumes of the 17th century complete with the wigs resembling many faces of Mozart, tall and short, black and white, fat and thin..all interested only in one thing, to sell you tickets to concerts playing Mozart music in several famous venues in the city. ´Come and listen to Mozart music at zis famous opera house, rumoured to be Mozart´s most favourite venue because the hostess constantly wore dressesz zat are not able to contain her bossoms´ quipped the tall Mozart..´No,no, zis opera house zis better, definitely Mozart´s favourite because he spent many hours writing his music there after hours of lovemaking with ze hostess´ retorted the fat Mozart not to be outdone and so it went on..I wasn´t sure if I was more interested in Mozart´s music as much as I was as to how they came to be written!

We quickly sought refuge from these costumed predators by entering into the Cathedral. This grand church of course has amazing looking pipe organs, statues and gothic style gilded altars but this is where I have to confess something to you. In a continent like Europe where every city in every country while are very different in many ways, they are also similar in the sharing of history, architecture and design of the cities. What was initially impressive when viewing cathedrals, the murals, painting on the ceilings, monuments and statues and museums unfortunately, it has now failed to generate my ´WOW´factor due to the saturation and over exposure on a constant basis to what seemed like repeated pattern of sights and scenes. A case of easy come and easy go I guess. Similarly I am sure if Vienna was the first European city I visited, I would have been blown away by the St Stephen Cathedral. Yet, it is with great shame and pity that I admit to the feeling of nonchalance and indifference upon seeing the inside of this magnificent church. It´s like going to watch the movie Titanic..sure, you have heard how great it is and how grand the ship was..but eventually, you also know what to expect..that the shp would sink..so it is like that too walking into a cathedral..you come to expect to see huge pipe organs, paintings on the ceilings and stained glass windows, statutes and altars, and sure enough, that´s what you would see.

However, having said that, sometimes there could be a slight twist to the story that you didn´t expect, like access to the cathedral´s tower to view the city and as such, I was delighted to find my unexpected south tower of the St Stephen´s cathedral and to be rewarded with the magnificent view of the city.

St Stephen from the outside, not my best shot due to having stave off the many Mozarts shoving concert tickets at me.

view of the city from the Catherdral's tower. Mental note: Don't need help of sun to emphasise my squinty eyes.

After leaving the Cathedral, Gheri sensing that time was his enemy, suddenly turned into Mussolini as he grabbed the map and took charge of our sightseeing. With purposeful, albeit short quick strides, he directed us through some of the city´s famous landmarks as you can see from the photos below in warp speed.

Yours truly in front of one of the 4 quarters of the Museumquarter, a big complex housing cluster of museums!

Outside the Parliament house and yes, I'm sure this is Vienna and not Rome or Greece!

The picture does no justice to this amazingly huge city hall with its gothic design. It's at least the size of Notre Dame and West Minister abbey. You have to see it to believe it! By far the most impressive building in Vienna for me!

After Gheri´s departure, I launched my recon mission to investigate whether I would be able to stay in Vienna or be discovering the city in-exile from Bratislava. As mentioned earlier, the cloesest series of hostels are at least 25 mins walk from the city centre and so I walked quite a bit that day, especially when the first 5 hostels I visited announced that they were fully booked. You could understand my pessimism then when walking into the 6th expecting the same result but to my delight, not only did I manage to book my accomodation without having to declare bankruptcy, but it turned out to be the best hostel of the lot too, in terms of cleanliness (which is a must for me) and the friendly atmosphere.

With my accomodation sorted for the next few days, I happily called it a day and returned to Bratislava, trying hard to hide my smug smiles from the tired looking commuters in the train on the way back.

11.10.2005

Not sure if you remember the New Yorker guy I met in Prague, Ron (see my Prague story with pics), but he was also going to be in Vienna around the same time and we agreed that we would join forces to explore the city. We figured with his New Yorker attitude of wanting things done yesterday and his travel bible of the ´Top Ten Must-Sees´ checklist and my super planning and economically efficient skills (did you just call me a tight ass?!), Vienna wouldn´t stand a chance!

So this morning, after receiving top-secret communication from Agent Loud-mouth to rendezvous at 10:00 hours at the Nasch Markt for breakfast before making our way to the Schonbrunn Palace (both in the top ten checklists), I made my way there already planning on briefing Ron about the most efficient way of getting to the Palace and the best route to take for our sightseeing in order to maximise the time we had and what we could see and coordinating this with the opening times, lunch and toilet breaks. Told you I´m good! Yes, I have allocated a generous 5 minute discrepancy at each stop to allow for any unexpected delays, like another attack of the Mozart Army or unexpected obstacles in our planned routes, in the form of our familiar foes, the notorious...Japanese tourists, ta da dem!!

The Nasch Markt was like a Sunday market but operates on a daily basis, selling variety of things ranging from food, drinks to handbags, shoes, fruits and vegetables and touristic ornaments. Upon completion of briefing on tour de jour, and dangerously armed with a tummy full of pastries and coffee, we made our way by metro to the Schonbrunn Palace.

The Palace, once the summer residence to the Habsburg royal family (get off your lazy ass and go read on the history of Austria!) was indeed magnificent but once again, it did not procure my wow reaction due to my earlier visit to a more grandeur palaces, like the Versailles in France. The Schonbrunn was similar but smaller in size, stature and complexity, still a sight to enjoy indeed for its own unique history and symbolic representation to the city.

The ´twist´to this story was this ´galleria´located on a hill facing the southern part of the palace. It is simply a building acting as a lookout point from which you can view the palace and the city beyond it. Quite enchanting really.

After many hours of walking and proclaiming the day to be a victory for the Dynamic Duo, we celerated with having a simple dinner before we parted, Ron to go to one of the many Mozart concerts (sucker!!) and I, returning back to the hostel for a much needed rest. Spent the most entertaining evening mingling with my fellow travellers at the hostel. Unless you´re a backpacking traveller yourself, it is hard to explain the comarade that one shares with fellow backpackers. It is like nomads coming together and resting at an oasis after the end of a long day of travel, sitting by the camp fire, trading antidotes of one´s journey, giving of valuable travelling advice and helpful suggestions and tips on the many hidden gems and the roads not taken. Similarly for us, as the night aged and the stars burnt brighter, the laughters grew louder, the stories took wilder turns, and the pile of paper napkins with email addresses written got higher as bonds of friendship were formed, and for some, renewed. Oh what a night....

12.10.2005

Today´s mission as we laid it out over chocolate croissants (yes Kevin, it´s not French for donuts!) and several cups of coffee, were to invade the Belvadere Castle, former home to Austria´s most successful army general during the expansion of the Austrian empire, so successful was this guy who for the life of me, can't remember his name, (name schmame!) that he was made a duke. Also included in today´s itinerary was to see the Karlskir Museum (one of the many arts museum that´s not part of the Museumquarter), Wien Museum (History of Vienna museum) and a quick look at the Staatoper (State Opera house).

The Belvadere castle as you can see is quite pretty but it wasn´t for its architecture that held us spellbound but for what the treasures within the castle. Divided into upper and lower Belvadere, the former displayed Medieval paintings and most of the famous works by Klimt. I had to drag Ron out of that place in order to keep up with our schedule, I mean he already used up the 15 minutes discrepancy time by that stage due to his obsession with his favourite artist. The latter, the lower Belvadere, exhibited the impressive rooms of the castle together with exclusive paintings of its former famous resident and the Halsburg royal family.

In front of the Belvadere Castle. If you have not noticed yet by now, yes I have lost a bit of weight. Don't rush off to send food aid parcles just yet, trust me, my hurricane appetite still rivals that of the ones hitting Louisiana, but the weight loss was due more to the many hours spent walking..maybe I can bottle this as the next diet craze!

We then made our way to Karlskir musum which was more impressive to me in terms of how the building looked whereas Ron was more keen to see the art museum inside. So he went inside while I took pictures on the outside and decided to go to a nearby grocery store to buy some lunch. Here´s an interesting fact. Do you know that in most German supermarkets, you are expected to weigh all your fruit and vegetables, get a price printout and stick it to your items before presenting them at the counter. As this is different to how we buy our produce in NZ, you can understand my embarassment when I was told in German of course of my mistake. Luckilly, another shopper with bilingual expertise then came to my rescue and I returned later, with the price printout tag and a very red face.

The majestic Kalskir Museum..

The rest of the day went more smoothly with our visits to the Vien Museum and Staatopera. To further our culinary education on foreign food, Ron and I decided to give Brawhurst a go. This is an Austrian hot dog, but apparently, America is not the only place they do everything big. I mean this is no snack guys..it´s a meal and then some...the picture is not doing it justice, I dunno what Brawhurst translates to in English but as far as I´m concerned, the translation might as well be King of Sausages..won´t you say so if you are confronted with a 10 inch? I must say, I was very satisfied....referring to my hunger! Get your mind out of the gutter!

Mama Mia!!

Actually, let´s talk about sex baby..let´s talk about Vienna and me..during the evening, as I was walking back to my hostel, gallivanting through the infamous shopping street of Maria Heifstraße, a massive white building with bright coloured flashing neon lights grabbed my attention and in bold bright red lights, it flashed ´SEX SHOP´. Not sure if you share my sentiment, but I can assure you that this kind of shop isn´t exactly what I would normally have in mind when thinking of a shopping spree, especially in NZ, where such shops are tucked in some dodgy corner of a badly lit street and you can almost guarantee the seedy and secretive atmosphere that lingered inside such shops, making them another object of taboo. However, here in liberal Europe, a sex shop is no different to any other shops, viewed perhaps in a more healthy manner as a shop you would go buy all things associated with sex, as you would go to Mitre 10 if you want to look for tools associated with DIY´s and other house projects.

Similarly, the Europeans very much encourage one to visit such shops to assist in any DIY disasters of a more personal kind...ahem. Seriously, the openness in which you can browse through sex aids, dvds and battery powered oscilliating pulsating devices are amazing. They were boldly displayed in an orderly fashion as if they were nothing but a packet of biscuits. Indeed, they even provided small carrying baskets and trolleys for your shopping convenience. You can see couples walking around, looking through the items or shifty men shifting through the latest dvds as they chucked one after the other into the trolleys. I felt like I have learnt so much tonight and as I was leaving, I almost expected a bright neon sign of ´Thank you and come again´to flash at me.

13.10.2005

My last day in Vienna was dedicated to seeing the remaining of the top tens in Vienna. First stop was the Museumplatz (Museumquarter which I have already briefly saw from the outside the other day). Again, after the Louvre in France, I was hardly excited by the prospect of these museum complexes.

The next venue was more exciting, the Hofsburg Palace, which was once the winter residence of the Habsburgs. Now it has become museums showing, amongst many things, the former living quarters of the royal family.

The more interesting section of the Hofsburg Palace for me was the museum dedicated to the life of Empress Elizabeth ´Sisi´wife of Franz Joseph III, beloved monarch of the people (think Eva Peron of Argentina or Princess Di). As you guys know, I´m a sucker for romance and so you can imagine how much time I spent in this museum finding out that Empress Sisi who was born a free spirit and an independent woman of her time and as a teenager, she was about to venture off on her travels when fate intervened during her visit with her cousin girl to see Emperor Franz Joseph. Although Franz Joseph´s mother had intended for him to marry Sisi´s cousin, he instead fell in love with Sisi and was determined to marry her instead. Of course, who was she to say no and so they were married when she was just shy of her 17th birtday. It is safe to say she did not enjoy her married life as much as he did, choosing to spend most of her time abroad travelling before she was unceremoniously assassinated by an Italian anti-monarch figure. If you have not picked up the similarities yet, then I can confirm that I share Sisi´s sentiments and free sprits and I´m just glad that I´m not living in the days when a woman´s worth is measured by the loudness of her husband (or father´s) belch!

Interesting too to see how this woman was so dedicated to looking beautiful. We were shown how she would wear special leather masks dipped in cow's blood to sleep each night, apparently meant to rejuvenate her face. I think this is one beauty regime I would skip! She also had like gymnastics apparatus in her chamber so she could do all these exercises to stay trim, now that I can do!

Another section of the palace has now been turned into a Spanish horse training school. Unfortunately for me (and for Kelly back home who wanted more pictures of horses), on the day of my visit, we just missed the morning training session and there were no horse shows. Don´t worry Kelly, Ron shares your bitter disappointment too. I did take some horsey pics for you as a consolation though, although of a different kind..

There ya go Kelly! This is outside the palace.

Outside the palace building, note the many statues..very nice!

One of the many group of statues adorning the sides of the palace.

Next, we visited the Maria Theresa twin buildings. She was one of the most powerful Empress of Austria during the empire´s expansion of power in the 18th and 19th century. The buildings are impressive as you can see and they are now museums as well. We spent a good one hour going through the Kunsthistor Museum, a mueum of natural history.

One of the twin buildings..

Gigantic statue of Empress Maria Theresa and lil ol me!

From there, we caught the metro to the West side of town to see the 'Hundertwasserhaus' buildings. A case of a picture is worth a 1000 words so I'll let one of them speak for itself..

It's a special design using various colours to display the unasymetrical breaks in the design..it's like that famous toilet in that small town in NZ..can't remember which town now but you know the one..

And with that last act, the curtain came down on my visit to Vienna as I would be catching the night train from here to Munich and then flying from there (on a cheap flight) into Seville, Spain.

AO Rating: A city of museums living up to its name for sure. While it did not secure as many wow factors as when I visited London or Paris, I believe this was more due to the order of my visit and the fading of the novelty factor as opposed to the finding the city lacking in what it has to offer. Vienna, where the hills are alive with the Sound of Music, also gives you the impression that its former glory is also very much still well and alive, perhaps the many Mozarts haunting the city streets may have something to do with that...¨So long...farewell, Auf Widersen...¨

Ok..before I start writing, I just want to grumble about the fact that it has taken me 8 tries to write this entry, 7 of them from a small town of Carmona, 25km from Seville, Spain where I was staying for the past two days. I'm currently attempting my 8th entry from Seville. The first 7 failures are due to the dodgy old computer advertised as 'free internet' on the travel brochure, one can now see why it's free *mutter*

Anyway...Bratislava, capital of Slovakia was certainly not part of the cities I planned to visit but once again, due to the flexibility (to a certain extent) of my itinerary, I was able to go there to catch up with my Italian friend and amateur journalist, Gheri who was taking pictures and reporting on the Slovak International Badminton tournament. This is a city famous for its cheap beers (hence, famous amongst the Europeans as Stag do capital of Europe) and Ladas...as common as Holden would be in NZ. As I was neither here to induldge in drunken frenzy or box car collectibles, I used this visit as a pit stop and to catch my breath after 3 weeks whirlwind of flights, sights, travels and castles...What I've done and learnt so far:

1. Spent 915€ (about 48.5€ per day which is still in accordance with my budget, so that's good)

2. Been to 6 cities in 6 countries. It gets to a point, where you are constantly struggling to remember the correct greetings, thank yous and excuse me..e.g even in simply saying yes.."ya...ya" in Amsterdam and Germany to "oui, d'accord" to "yes" in London, to "ya, ya" again in Prague and Bratislava (and now "si..si" in Spain).

3. Saw lots of "WC"..never sure what they stands for..perhaps "Wee Centre". The Toilet papers are not flash either and I have a bum rash to prove it!! *blush*

4. If I hear another "Konichiwa" from an European man trying to flirt me with me, I will be tempted to buy a samurai sword and perform a harakiri on their genitalias...For you kiwis, it's like someone mistaking you for an Aussies...sort of.

5. Pedestrian crossings mean absolutely nothing except marking of white stripe lines on the road. Constant health hazard walking around the cities in Europe I tell you! Also, for us who drive in the "CORRECT" side of the road, i.e left side, it's very disorientating to also have to remember to walk on the right hand side when in Europe or otherwise, you get glares and cyclists shouting obscenities at you!

6. Smokin Europe Batman!! If one thing I don't like about Europe is that it's hard to find a sniff of fresh air anywhere, especially when trying to enjoy your food in a restaurant. I mean I like my smoked salmon like anyone else, but reallllllllly!!! Also, if you book a non-smoking seat on a train to somewhere, that just means you'll be sitting like 3 seats away from the smoking session. What the hell??!

7. As you travel more towards the eastern side of Europe with a Malaysian passport which is as rarely seen in Europe as a non-smoking European, then be prepared to have your passport passed around amongst the borders policemen on trains etc.

8. Seen great t-shirts worn by tourists so far! The Top 2 has to be:
(a) "Life is Sexually Transmitted" and
(b) "People who are constipated don't give a shit"

9. Japanese tourists. Enough said. Oh and also, you see a LOT of Australians around too.."ya maaattte, the beer heeere so cheap maaate!"

10. You're suppose to pay for your subway tickets before getting on the trains but as there's no actual ticket machine for you to swipe your ticket through in order to get to the trains, i.e you can just walk through, no one really pays for their subway rides..except in France. They're too elegant to resolve to anything underhand like zees!

11. Never...Ever...get on a cab in Prague...not only ridiculously expensive and overcharged, but the fact that they are run by corrupted mafias..well, could indeed be the ride of your life or rather, the last ride of your life.

12. You constantly get paranoid when trying to speak to a local in his/her native tongue as you think they probably understand English but are secretly laughing at your pathetic attempt at their language.

13. Trust your map more than an a local giving you directions who would often tell you "right" or "left" without specifying that you actually need to take the 3rd right and then the 2nd left etc.

14. The coffee in cafes here taste sooo good that they make Starbucks coffee taste like mud water.

15. And I can now fully confirmed with 100% certainty that indeed on this side of the hemisphere, the water does flush to the opposite direction!

There's more but I'll save some for when I get back. I'll report on Vienna and Spain soon. Until then, hasta la uego (how it sounds, not spelled), meaning see you later.

5th October

God bless Easyjet company and their cheap flights! The only time when I was glad to spend the pound sterling came when paying 54 pounds for my flight from London to Prague.

Prague was originally founded by the Romans but it wasn't until 14th century that it flourished under the Czech ruler, Charles IV. It was my first experience seeing a city that has both the western influence in the form of medival, roman, gothic and baroque style and also the european eastern communist dull square box style about the place, and you can often spot this difference especially in the architecture of the city's buildings.

I checked into my hostel and you must forgive me for having the first impression that Czech people are not the most creative. This impression is derived from my hostel's name, wait for it...Traveller's Hostel. Uh huh..told you so. This however is where the drawback of the place is limited to. Great helpful staff, wonderfully clean and spacious room and amenities all make this place a home away from home, which came as a relief I must say after how I've been spoilt for accomodation in terms of staying with friends in the last 3 of the 4 cities I've visted.

As I sauntered around the main town centre, only a few minutes walk from my hostel, trying to get a feel for this magical city, I noticed that the inhabitants of the city were made up of the serious morose looking elderly folks, the hard faced business people in their cold black suits and carefree bubblegum popping youngsters with their ipod mini and smarting hip hop fashion wear...not too dissimilar really to elsewhere in the world but perhaps the more depressing looking post-communist infra structure of the city somehow gave it that tired look. However, if you could look past the depleted dusty exterior, you will discover the time before the hardship, when the ancient castles and towers sparkle like jewels across the Baltic sea.

6th October

This morning I decided to join yet another walking tour given my past success and enjoyment of them. This time I found a bargain! 7 hours worth of guided tour through Prague plus a ferry trip and a complimentary night walking tour thrown in..but wait! There's more!! (Always more!) We would also get a complimentary lunch in one of Prague's oldest restaurant serving a range of local cuisine.All this for 30 Euros (which is NZ60 but you're not suppose to convert..so imagine if it's like NZ30 for all this!) I must sheepishly admit that due to my trademark tardiness, I almost didn't turn up in time for the start of the tour but made it in the nick of time, pheew!

We met at the centre of the city, the Old Town Square. Our guide's name escaped me because I got there after he introduced himself. So for the sake of this tour, let's just call him Stalin (if he ever reads this, he'll kill me, you'll see why later). He was a short mid 30'ish guy with a big umbrella, that doubles as a pointer and walking stick. His English of course had a thick Czech accent and it could take a while to understand him. Anyhow, he began by informing us that Prague is divided mainly into four sections, the old town, which includes the old jewish quarter, the new town, the lesser town and the Prague castle vicinity. The lesser town and the Prague castle vicinity are separated with the other two sections mainly by the Vladava river and they are linked across this river by the infamous Charles Bridge, named after its popular ruler, Charles IV. I didn't know whether Stalin was just not a morning person or he was just plain dull and dry...perhaps both but I remembered thinking to my self, oh boy, this is going to be a long day.

Church of the St Nicholas (one of two!) built in 18th century located at the Old Town Square.

Here horsey, horsey, horsey...one of the many tourist trappings located at the square.

We were taken around the square and stopped by this door you see above. The picture isn't very clear but if you look at the top of the arc, you are meant to see a very 'happy face' on the top left, a very 'sad face' on the top right and slightly to the bottom in between the two faces, you'll see a very menacing looking face with sharp pointy teeth. Stalin explained that it is tradition for Czechs getting married at this St Nicholas church to enter through the door on the left to this one and once they're proclaimed husband and wife, they would exit the church through this door. The significance of exiting through this door? Well, the 'happy face' symbolises the bride, who's happy she's finally married. As you would guess by now, the face on the right would be that of the groom who's miserable being tied to the ball and chains. The scary face in the middle would be none other than 'the mother in law'! :P

Then we went past the jewish quarter and I took some photographs but I'll save those for later viewing. We then came to halt in front of this building where Stalin explained that it is typical in Prague in the 15th century for houses to be built with keyhole shaped windows in them.

See top left - hate to see the size of the keys!

We then made our way past 2 Japanese tourist groups, Stalin carefully making sure that I didn't get caught in the tidal wave of the rising sun and disappear into an obscure sushi parlour at the back of some darkly lit street.

We then arrived at this:

Yeah..wow alright!

One of the most impressive gothic sacral building in Prague with the construction of which lasted from the mid-14th century to early 16th century but due to some religious upheavals as a result of which, Prague became the fist Prostestant city in Europe, the interior of the church was never finished and it wasn't until the late 17th century that the interior was rebuilt in baroque style upon the return of catholism in Prague.

We then walked down to the pier to our awaiting ferry and its lovely staff greeting us with the Czech greeting of "Ahoj!" (pronounced Ahoy!), meaning Greetings, or hi! The boat trip was very pleasant indeed going up and down Vladava river listening to Stalin rattling on and on about how communism has ruined his country. He would point to some gothic style building on the right and said "And you see, how beautiful this building is? Now look to your left and see that ugly box? That my friend is communism!" And this was the theme for a while before we sailed past a big old sports complex, so then Stalin got all excited again as he started to lecture about the great Czech tennis players who had to flee the country when the communists took over and how that destroyed the country too. Dunno if it was the complimentary budzar (Czech beer) or simply being in good mood due to the beautiful sceneries but I found Stalin's monotonous whining about communism rather funny and entertaining.

Soon after, to everyone else's delight, Stalin's thirst got the better of him and he went off to enjoy a glass of beer, leaving the rest of us to ponder in our own thoughts as we continue the water journey accompanied by classical music. Ahh...bliss...

We disembarked from the ferry and continued our journey by making our way to Charles Bridge. The imposing arc greets you as you approach the bridge. This arc was built in the late 15th century and later used as a gun depot.

Prague's Arc de triumph! :P

Then we met the man himself, Charlie boy IV!

Here, Stalin explained Charles' obsession with astronomy and as such, when he was deciding when would be a good time to set the cornerstone for the building of the bridge, he consulted his astronomer who came up with this diagram:
......9
....7...7
...5.....5
..3.......3
.1.........1

Looking at this pyramid numbers, you'll see the astronomer's advice to Charles was to build the bridge in the year 1357, 9th July at 5:31am (which happened to be sunrise at that time). This date can be followed from reading the pyramid numbers from the bottom left and right to the top and back down on the right hand side again. So Charles had the first coernerstone laid exactly as advised. Interesting huh?

There's 15 bronze statues being placed with equal distance apart from one another on each side of the bridge. I took a few photos but the most significant statue was that of Saint John of Nas who became a saint after he, acting as a confessor to the queen refused to reveal the queen's confession to the jealous king, who had him killed.

If you look at the statue closely, you'll see the shiny dog on the left and the shiny woman on the right. The locals believed it was good luck to touch the 'woman' who was the queen as you walk past and as the bronze statue becomes dark green over time, the constant touching of the queen polished her and made her figure shiny again. You're now wondering why is the dog shiny then? Well, one night, drunken students who walked past the statue felt sorry for the dog as nobody touched him, so they polished it until it shined. The next day, people who saw the shiny dog thought you're meant to touch both the queen and the dog, and ever since then, both have been touched religiously by people!

During this walking tour, I made friends with couple of Americans and a Japanese tourist and we soon became like 'photography buddies' i.e taking photos of one another and cracking jokes about the trip, including the total number of times Stalin would be whining about the effects of communism in Czech by the end of the tour. After crossing the bridge, we caught a tram to the the old restaurant for much needed food, our tummies grumbling along the way, echoing our hunger. The restaurant was small but very cozy, decorated in a hunting theme, with animal skins, heads and various old rifles hanging against the otherwise bare walls. We were first served with this yummy vegetable soup before being offered a choice of main course meals, all of local food. I ordered the Czech goulash, which as it sounds, was beef ghoulash with dumpling (not like English or chinese one, but more like hardened dough medalions). For dessert, we sampled the "little coffins" which are meringue shaped like lil coffins with cream on top, sugar haven!

From here, Stalin, fully fed was back in high spirits as he led us on to the castle. It was rather interesting for us to note that as the tour goes on, Stalin began to relax a little and what we originally perceived as his dryness and lack of sense of humour were actually the opposite, his sense of humour were just dryer sounding due to the accent and his poker faced outlook. He broke away from this mould when his face suddenly lit up as he recalled a joke while telling us about communism and its effect on freedom of speech in Prague. He quipped "Like other countries, we were free to speak, it's only after we've spoken that's the problem". He laughed heartily and we politely chuckled while pretending to admire the next approaching building.

We soon walked past what seemed like an ordinary looking pub. We were however informed by Stalin that this is the cheapest pub in Prague? "So what, they give away free beer now?" asked Chris the American from our group. "Almost..it costs only 23 crowns (NZ$2) for a pint of beer." A few Danish men in our group started to edge away from our group and inching closer to the pub before their wives 'tsk,tsk' them back into place as we walked along. Next we walked past an old antique shop which Stalin loudly boasted as "the first Sex Shop in Europe". In response to our puzzled looks, he pointed to this rusty looking steel device and announced that it was a female chastity belt. Charming..

We finally arrived at the front gate of the Prague Castle (there's 3 gates all together before you enter the castle). By the front gate, there stood two Czech guards standing motionless cum London guards with Marge Simpson hairdo.

The last pic of me with my sunglasses outside the palace gate before I lost it (or was it stolen?! Hmmms)

The castle, like the bridge was built in 1357 and its construction continued on for several centuries, completed in various stages. Upon entering the first gate you see the more modern building that housed the current Prime Minister's Office and through the second gate, we finally arrived at the glorious sight in all of Prague (so I believe!) It's the Prague Palace Cathedral, also intially built in 1357 in gothic style but due to the religious upheaval, wars and political coup de tat, it wasn't completed until 1927.

The tower was so high I couldn't even get it all in frame!

The cathedral from the side view and yours truly.

One of the stained glass featured in the old cathedral. If you look at the bottom, there's some Czech words which translated to "Who would save you at times like this?" And the rest of the stained glass reflects the troubled times when you need saving. And the answer to the question being provided in either of the two: 1. The eye right at the top of the glass, depicting God as the saviour...or 2. Right at bottom left together with some pic of leaves are some words which basically translate to "Czech First Insurance". That's right folks, commercialism strikes again! Apparently, the church needed an old window replaced with stain glass and the insurance company agreed to sponsor the building of the glass provided they get something back.. so there you go!

From there, we then went up the south tower, all 318 steps (huff, puff,huff) to the top, just enough breath for me to mutter that the view better be great! Luckilly it was...

One of the shots taken from top of the tower overlooking Prague.

After leaving the tower and the cathedral, we made our way past the third gate and out towards various palace buildings that has become museums but we did not enter since it wasn't part of our walking tour. The last building we saw before we exit the castle was the "Black Tower" which is another old Tower that's colour is anything but black, it was white actually. Why the name? Well, apparently, there was a big fire this one time at the castle (aka bandcamp), the smoke of the were so black and thick that it covered the entire palace, the ashes sticking to the walls of this tower turning it black and it was then named the Black Tower and the name stuck, even after the clean-up. With that explanation, Stallin bid us adieu.

Me and the view of the city from outside the castle.

What a day..The American-Japanese-NZ alliance also made their way discussing the day and one thing everyone agreed upon was the great value of the walking tour. We would have probably not learnt so much about this place had it not been for our guide. I then excused myself quickly from the group to head home to get ready for dinner with Pohu. John, whom I met on this travellerspoint.com website (who advised me a lot about Europe as he used to live in Europe), is also a good friend of Pohu, a local Prague girl who had coincidentally been to NZ before (and hence her nickname, Pohu, from Pohutekawa tree). She took me to dinner at a nice restaurant in the centre of town and we had a good time talking about anything and everything! It was nice meeting a local to spend your evening with and a good way to unwind after a hectic day of sightseeing.

7 October

My last day in Prague was spent sightseeing in more detail the places I've already been to during the walking guiding tour but just taking my time a bit more to study or take pictures of the things I like. I also bumped into Ron, another American who was also on his own touring Europe. Unlike the other two Americans I met yesterday, Ron's from New York with your typical New York accent. We decided later to have lunch at this very nice cafe by the old St Nicholas church (the second one that's on the way to Prague castle). From where we sat, we had an awesome view of the city. Then I made my way back into the city, packed and head off to Bratislava, 5 hours away and capital of Slovakia.

Lunch with a view!

AO rating: Prague's amazing!! After Paris and London, would definitely be the best city I've seen. Did not have the fortune of discovering more castles in the suburbs but definitely will come back more to explore! 5 castles down, 996 to go!

4 October

Part of going on this super "Big Bus Tour" the day before allowed me one free entry into one of the walking tours and taking up this opportunity, I set for the meeting place for the walk, Trafalgar Square, which was of course, just slightly further than the Strand but if I land on the "community chest" and the card says go straight to jail and not collect $200", then I'm screwed :P Yes folks, who said Monopoly was just a game?! It was like a topographical map for me.

Today's walking tour would take us from Trafalgar Square to Buckingham Palace through a cobblestone path called the Mall (pronounced "mahl") so as to discourage Harrods mogul, Al-Fayed from storming into and taking over the palace and turning it into yet another shopping disneyland (will elaborate on this later). It was the second day that the sun shone unaccompanied by any clouds, which in itself is a highlight of this visit!

Trafalgar in the early morning (before the sun came through and the clouds disappeared)

The arc seperating Trafalgar Square from "the Mall"

Our tour guide promised that this path will lead us to witnessing the changing of the guards, which takes place every 48 hours (afterall, sooner or later, the guards on duty will either need to relieve themselves or go watch soccer, most likely the latter being more of a pressing matter).

The Mall is roughly about 800 metres long with the St James Park on both its left and right side and you can see statues of previous Dukes of York (title given to 2nd son of the King/Queen - current one being Prince Andrew, you know, the one that married the 'ginga'!). The tour guide begailing us with stories of the past Dukes' mischiefs (middle child syndrome?) to kill time while we await the new guards to march out from St James Palace (the old palace of the monarch)where they have been practising and rehearsing how to stand still and do bugger all (not for the feeble minded you know..) Eventually, we know they were about to emerge when Her Majesty's royal calvary (guards on horses) trotted from Buckingham Palace to St James, to escort the guards. It was really a magnificent sight to behold, noble horses and their riders, smartly dressed in glory, medals shining and dangling from their chests. A less elegant but yet amusing sight followed, in the form of a small green truck with two big round brushes at its front, gracefully cleaning up the poos left behind by the horses.

can't see the green truck, but it's there!

Few minutes later, the unmistakable sound of bagpipes tore through the air and soon after, a band of bagpipe players in their dark and blue green kilts (no matching wooly underwears detected..I checked to be sure they keep to tradition..) proudly marched in unison, leading the new guards, the first few on horses and the rest on foot, left right, left right...in perfect syncronised rhythm, their well polished shoes tapping the stone path together, ocassionally interrupted by the sounds of 'ooohs' and 'aaahs' and cameras clicking away (Japanese tourist brigade in tow...). We followed them until they marched into the Buckingham Palace ground and the iron gate closing behind them. Any thought of perhaps this was the end of the tour was soon forgotten when we heard a marching band music playing, getting louder and louder as the other new guards arrived (from another path leading to the palace) and also making their way into the palace grounds. Then the changing of guards ceremony took place. The leading music band would play a few tunes and the guards led by this bad would move forward. Then other music band would play and the guards they led would move forward from the other direction. Slowly but surely these two group of new guards then merged to meet the old guards and after captains of both 'new' and 'old' guards exchange their duty garments and ornaments, then the old guards marched and separated into two groups, each group marching until they're behind the two music bands. Then the new guards marched further into the palace grounds and the old guards were then led by the music bands as they march out of the palace. All very prim, proper and organised, wouldn't have expected anything less from the English.

Guards entering Buckingham Palace

That was when our walking tour ended and we were 'dismissed'. I then made my way to Hyde Park, which is just beside the palace. This park would be the city's equivallent to our Auckland Domain or Hagley Park, except that it's like 10 to 15 times bigger and it is also the home to the Kensington Palace (where Princess Di used to live), Princess Di memorial and Prince Albert Memorial. I decided I was now ready for the 'running' tour. You see, I refused to give up my jogging for fear of losing my fitness (walking's just not the same). In fact, I've gone as far as trying to ensure I do at least one run in every country. So far been successful except for in France due to the more rainy weather over there.

Greeting me at the entrance to the park was the bronze statue of Achilles, in his naked splendour. I chuckled to myself as I recall the bus tour guide's explanation on this statue the evening before. She said that this naked statue was the first of its kind to be unveiled in London in the mid 19th century. When the public first saw it, the reactions of 4 women were ghastly! The first two fainted. The third one had a stroke and the fourth just couldn't reach! :P :P

I couldn't reach either dang nabbit!

I ran all the way to Kensington Palace but was a bit disappointed that it was just a modern structure, nothing impressive and certainly not picture worthy! However, my disappointment was short lived further into my run when I came across the larger than life statue of Prince Albert, beloved husband of Queen Victoria who orchestrated this over-the-top tribute in the form of this memorial to show her undying love for him. She was so saddened by his death that she had the entire city's railings, lamp posts all painted black and ever since then, Londoners could never imagine their city look any more cheerful than this.

Lucky Albert aye?!

Looking at the time, I finished up my run so I could go visit Harrods department store. You're all probably thinking why would the history mad Adelina be interested in a gigantic shopping mecca? Well, I asked Evelyn the same question when she suggested this as a must-see! She then explained that Harrods are more than just Ballantynes or Smiths & Coheys..this is a store that is rich in tradition and customs as it is expensively catered for the upper class customers. Each department has a theme and decorated accordingly, like the Egyptian room that has a gigantic statue of a sphinx guarding its wares, right down to the 'elegant lady's public convenience room', that's right...good ol' loo even got a shape-up. They also have their own Harrods Bank which dated back to the 19th century, today it serves more as a money changer than a real bank. It was certainly interesting and worth having a look, but definitely a case of "once is enough".

All smells money and prestige ain't it?

From there, I took a very brisk walk to the Parliament House and Westminister abbey to take more pictures. On the way there, I walked past the Lincoln Inn, where the new lawyers get admitted to the bar. Nice place to get admitted...I was so jealous!

Of course, Parliament House is where the Parliament Tower, the infamous landmark of London lives, better known around the world for the name of the bell in the tower, Big Ben. West Minister abbey of course is the monarch's church and where many of its past kings and queens were buried.

Sure beats the beehive hands down doesn't it?

View of the front of Westminister Abbey

View from the back..England's answer to the French's Notre Dame.

Can't go to London and not take a picture of this!

I made it home just in time to grab a quick bite and a shower before rushing out again to finally see my first London West End musical, the Lion King. In my rush to run to the taxi, I slipped and fell, grazing my knee and elbow in the process and no, unlike my runs, this will not be repeated in other countries *fingers crossed*.

Arrived at the Lyceum building in the nick of time. I've been sitting here for 5 minutes trying to think of how to describe the musical. UNBELIEVABLE would be the closest adjective and yet still an understatement. The singing, the acting, special effects especially how they created the giraffes, gizzelles and elephants from humans were simply amazing. This certainly would go down as one of the best things I have ever done. Watch out you all, when I get back, I'll be looking for musical buddies....so "BE PREPARED..."

The show was truly the icing on the London cake. Unfortunately, my evening was tainted slightly by a 'bug' that landed on the cake. I have had a great rapport and respect for London's black cabbies because they're professional taxi drivers but the one I encountered on my way home was indeed an exception, rather than the rule. I won't go into detail regarding his rude behaviour but suffice to say, he must have realised it too in that when I gave him 10 pounds for the 8 pounds 20 pence ride, he claimed that he gave me back only a pound and claimed not to have any change, obviously realising I was not going to voluntarily tip him. He said 'sorry' and then proceeded to say 'actually, I'm not sorry, it's just the way it goes'. It takes all sorts I guess.

So that's London..short but certainly sweet!
AO Rating: Like its Queen, this country's capital has aged really well in accomodating the hustle and bustle of its long working days and sleepless nights of lights, dance, pubs, plays and musicals. If you're here, you'll be working and playing hard, no doubt about that!

Tomorrow, I'm off to Prague, the City of Castles!!