June 12th, 2011:
Ahh Spain. We leave Paris with a fond fair-well and onto new horizons in yet another country. The weather is great and there is the immediate familiar smell of the ocean air which reminds me of Australia. Sudden home sickness :(
Our hotel wows us from the moment we walk in. Great staff, modern amenities, clean, straight to the outside bar garden for cocktails, a swim in the pool on the rooftop, session at the gym and dinner afterward. Our room has fully computerized climate control, lighting and super ubergroovy media entertainment. I'd be happy just to stay here and relax frankly :)
The only downfall is the laundry service is expensive and I'm trying to keep Annika from sneaking the minibar.
It's only right to embrace local tradition so a siesta after the gym before dinner was fabulous. But the constant go go go of the last 8 days has taken it's toll so bed is a welcome sight.
See you in the morning for breakfast.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Paris
June 7th 2011:
I've always felt at home in Paris. Each time has been something to remember and each time has left me wanting. You always forget how rude the French are but once you get past that, it becomes a place you want to fit into.
We check into our hotel after a delayed flight from Rome and a bit of bumbling about at the airport trying to find a phone that worked and an info area that actually gave info lol. We found our spot and also a lovely girl named Robyn from Brisbane who was happy like us to hear Australian voices.
The hotel manager who's a funny little round man was very friendly and gave us the rules of the place which we promptly ignored on the first night by trying to get Internet access after 1am which proved fruitless anyway - moreover by the rude night time reception guy who had no interest in trying to understand me anyway.
First day much like Rome, was splendid and easy to enjoy. The Eiffel tower is only ten minutes walk so we immediately head there taking photos along the way. It's bloody freezing though so the smell of hot chocolate, sausages with pomme fritte is too enticing to resist. 11 euro, hand it over.
Admiring the ET is easy, but I wanted to keep walking to show Annika something. Across the bridge over the river seinne we go to the place with the fountain gardens that I can never remember. Annika every two seconds asking where we're going. "stop" I say asking her if she remembers this place while I'm pointing to an area of grass in front of the bull statue that had her gobsmacked as a nine year old on our last visit when it was winter. At that time she'd crossed the frozen grass and was hysterical at the frozen grass cracking under her feet. No biggy but through a Childs eyes then it was bazaar. Annika immediately remembers and her eyes light up at the simple fond memories from this place which has this day drawn her back.
So, we're pretty tired and cold and begin to make our way back. Out of nowhere is a little street with cobbled stones, typical Paris buildings and the tower through the trees. What I see though is the allure of sensual Paris. Containing most prominently my other life which evades my heart and let's me know what remains true. So beautiful.. Yet cruel in it's ability to make you smile but only be left with desire.
It's a moment in time to share with only one.
The city of lights is always a bit bloody nice; a change of clothes gets us across the road to la terrasse. Super uber funky, very polite and just spot on. Lamb and crepes, yumm, we'll see you for dinner tomorrow night for more.
Let's go check out the tower lights says Anni.
June 10th, 2011:
It's Friday and today was spent simply resting. We went on a bus tour yesterday which brought us to the Louvre. The touristy thing was cook but you're majesty of the place with it's historical statue inhabitants and representations in paint overwhelm you with how much of a world there was before you. I still laugh at the fact that the mons lisa doesn't have eyebrows though.
Instead if catching the bus to Notre Dame we decide to walk. Albeit not to take in the sights but for my own personal motives in making a promise to which I wanted to share with another. She never knew until this day.
The Pont Des Arts, the bridge of lovers. A simple padlock, marked with the names of lovers locked into place on the bridge and sealed for all time by throwing the keys into the Seinne.
Notre Dame, dare I say it was beautiful but didn't hold a candle to the Immanuel monument cathedral in Rome.
Back on the bus and we go past all that is holy in the world to Annika surrounding the l'arc de triumph. And by that I mean teenage girl Mecca; Louis Vuitton, Cartier, blah blah etc. Too funny
The tour ends at Trocadero and we embrace yet another brisk stroll past the Eiffel back to our hotel. Loooong day.
I've always felt at home in Paris. Each time has been something to remember and each time has left me wanting. You always forget how rude the French are but once you get past that, it becomes a place you want to fit into.
We check into our hotel after a delayed flight from Rome and a bit of bumbling about at the airport trying to find a phone that worked and an info area that actually gave info lol. We found our spot and also a lovely girl named Robyn from Brisbane who was happy like us to hear Australian voices.
The hotel manager who's a funny little round man was very friendly and gave us the rules of the place which we promptly ignored on the first night by trying to get Internet access after 1am which proved fruitless anyway - moreover by the rude night time reception guy who had no interest in trying to understand me anyway.
First day much like Rome, was splendid and easy to enjoy. The Eiffel tower is only ten minutes walk so we immediately head there taking photos along the way. It's bloody freezing though so the smell of hot chocolate, sausages with pomme fritte is too enticing to resist. 11 euro, hand it over.
Admiring the ET is easy, but I wanted to keep walking to show Annika something. Across the bridge over the river seinne we go to the place with the fountain gardens that I can never remember. Annika every two seconds asking where we're going. "stop" I say asking her if she remembers this place while I'm pointing to an area of grass in front of the bull statue that had her gobsmacked as a nine year old on our last visit when it was winter. At that time she'd crossed the frozen grass and was hysterical at the frozen grass cracking under her feet. No biggy but through a Childs eyes then it was bazaar. Annika immediately remembers and her eyes light up at the simple fond memories from this place which has this day drawn her back.
So, we're pretty tired and cold and begin to make our way back. Out of nowhere is a little street with cobbled stones, typical Paris buildings and the tower through the trees. What I see though is the allure of sensual Paris. Containing most prominently my other life which evades my heart and let's me know what remains true. So beautiful.. Yet cruel in it's ability to make you smile but only be left with desire.
It's a moment in time to share with only one.
The city of lights is always a bit bloody nice; a change of clothes gets us across the road to la terrasse. Super uber funky, very polite and just spot on. Lamb and crepes, yumm, we'll see you for dinner tomorrow night for more.
Let's go check out the tower lights says Anni.
June 10th, 2011:
It's Friday and today was spent simply resting. We went on a bus tour yesterday which brought us to the Louvre. The touristy thing was cook but you're majesty of the place with it's historical statue inhabitants and representations in paint overwhelm you with how much of a world there was before you. I still laugh at the fact that the mons lisa doesn't have eyebrows though.
Instead if catching the bus to Notre Dame we decide to walk. Albeit not to take in the sights but for my own personal motives in making a promise to which I wanted to share with another. She never knew until this day.
The Pont Des Arts, the bridge of lovers. A simple padlock, marked with the names of lovers locked into place on the bridge and sealed for all time by throwing the keys into the Seinne.
Notre Dame, dare I say it was beautiful but didn't hold a candle to the Immanuel monument cathedral in Rome.
Back on the bus and we go past all that is holy in the world to Annika surrounding the l'arc de triumph. And by that I mean teenage girl Mecca; Louis Vuitton, Cartier, blah blah etc. Too funny
The tour ends at Trocadero and we embrace yet another brisk stroll past the Eiffel back to our hotel. Loooong day.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
After the move, a holiday
June 7th 2011: My neck is sore and my ears are ringing as our flight heads from rome to paris, and I'm reminded of a promise I made to send a blog of my journey whilst pondering my most recent weeks.
June 4th 2011: Rome is a welcome destination after the trials of recent weeks. Leaving Australia, good friends, and something very special.
My daughter who accompanies me for the next few weeks until mid July is keeping pace and has become quite the directional wizard in Rome. We're immediately impacted by the smell of smog and look of not so clean surrounds, vastly different from my indefinite home in Germany. But we love it. Our shuttle driver tries so very hard to give us some info on the city but simply stumbles into italian. We smile and nod. Traffic is... Challenging and hilarious.
Get to the hotel teti 2 hours early so we decide to have a cappuccino next to our hotel where the waitress looks like she hates everyone but the coffee rocks.
Ahh finally our room... Oh sorry, I meant, tv dinner sized wardrobe. Much as we expected but the location was great. Aircon on cos it's 30 degrees and we then spend the rest of the day walking the streets and touring the beautiful ruins until we hit the monument di Immanuel ii... Wow. The immensity is overwhelming. My daughter Annika is suddenly realizing that this place is something special and already I see the adventure opening up in her eyes. She's entranced. As she leads the way up the stairs and through the museum areas. I'm happy to have brought her, but upset that I'm trying to keep up with her youthful energy. Suddenly she finds a small entrance on the second level outside. Annika, not being a friend to religion is suddenly hit with the holy cathedral's mighty interior. Humbling, would be a gentle euphemism to describe the look on her face and indeed mine as we walk over the embedded tombs of holy men, honored guard and the like. Looking at the paintings, sculptures, architecture and devotion to this holy place suddenly engulfs you in the reverence it demands. I've never seen Annika so respectful.
The cue for the lift to the very top is waaaay to long so we compensate by not waiting and discover the perfectly wonderful cafe situated behind the path we follow. What views... And perfect food and drink. I love this place.
The long trek back to our hotel makes us hungry again so we make ourselves comfy at the restaurant next door where the ragu is seriously great.
Sleep time
June 5th 2011: the day starts off warm and we journey to the termini at about 11am to catch our hop on hop off tour, but not before breakfast at Re Artu and served by the ever polite Tony, our Italian born and bred waiter who had spent 14 years in the uk and sponsored our language barrier with a broad cockney accent - fed and watered, it's off to the bus 10 feet away - Our goal, the colosseum.
Bumpy bus gets us there. We're promptly approach by a scalper who promises an English tour of the place and a skip of the cue... 50euros gone. Worth every penny, We walked past miles of tourists and the education we received was worthwhile. A long tour ending in the ancient palace gardens once lived in by Nero, god love the bloke. We learned of the ancient race track viewed by the emperors only accompanied by their wives in a massive viewing stadium to it's side. Not the most interesting until we're told of the four times a year when they were accompanied by 6 vestal virgins who 'serviced' their royalty yet had to remain untainted until their 30th year or otherwise face the penalty of death by being buried alive. Nice one!
And then we get the rain, umbrella up and sprint to la biga restaurant up the stairs across the road. Yuuuum. We've decided it's wet and cold enough to get back on our bus to our hotel. The hotel is boring so a change of clothes is required for a trip around the corner for salad and cocktails. A great night which gave Annika and I to talk over travel, many personal things, and the future.
Bodies failing, it's time to get to bed.
June 6th 2011: let's get up early and go to Vatican city... Fail. Suddenly realizing our "completely knackered" meter bad reached 11, we slept in, and rightly so. My forever lovely ex fiancé in Australia suggesting the Catholics had enough of our money and we best save ourselves for a brisk walk to the Fountain of Trevi and make a wish. The evening is moist and cool as we get directions from some friendly polizia toward the Fontana. It didn't disappoint. The entire city experience, all it's romance and brazen etiquette made our final famous stop a little sad. A realization of wondering how long it would be until either of us return, and an emptiness of knowing this place belongs to lovers and beauty. You want to add to it's history and marvel, but only with someone special and betrothed.
Sigh
More torturous romance from a short stroll to Al Presidente... perfect... Just perfect
A long slow walk sends us back to our hotel. We pack and sleep.
Farewell Rome. Thanks for the memories.
June 4th 2011: Rome is a welcome destination after the trials of recent weeks. Leaving Australia, good friends, and something very special.
My daughter who accompanies me for the next few weeks until mid July is keeping pace and has become quite the directional wizard in Rome. We're immediately impacted by the smell of smog and look of not so clean surrounds, vastly different from my indefinite home in Germany. But we love it. Our shuttle driver tries so very hard to give us some info on the city but simply stumbles into italian. We smile and nod. Traffic is... Challenging and hilarious.
Get to the hotel teti 2 hours early so we decide to have a cappuccino next to our hotel where the waitress looks like she hates everyone but the coffee rocks.
Ahh finally our room... Oh sorry, I meant, tv dinner sized wardrobe. Much as we expected but the location was great. Aircon on cos it's 30 degrees and we then spend the rest of the day walking the streets and touring the beautiful ruins until we hit the monument di Immanuel ii... Wow. The immensity is overwhelming. My daughter Annika is suddenly realizing that this place is something special and already I see the adventure opening up in her eyes. She's entranced. As she leads the way up the stairs and through the museum areas. I'm happy to have brought her, but upset that I'm trying to keep up with her youthful energy. Suddenly she finds a small entrance on the second level outside. Annika, not being a friend to religion is suddenly hit with the holy cathedral's mighty interior. Humbling, would be a gentle euphemism to describe the look on her face and indeed mine as we walk over the embedded tombs of holy men, honored guard and the like. Looking at the paintings, sculptures, architecture and devotion to this holy place suddenly engulfs you in the reverence it demands. I've never seen Annika so respectful.
The cue for the lift to the very top is waaaay to long so we compensate by not waiting and discover the perfectly wonderful cafe situated behind the path we follow. What views... And perfect food and drink. I love this place.
The long trek back to our hotel makes us hungry again so we make ourselves comfy at the restaurant next door where the ragu is seriously great.
Sleep time
June 5th 2011: the day starts off warm and we journey to the termini at about 11am to catch our hop on hop off tour, but not before breakfast at Re Artu and served by the ever polite Tony, our Italian born and bred waiter who had spent 14 years in the uk and sponsored our language barrier with a broad cockney accent - fed and watered, it's off to the bus 10 feet away - Our goal, the colosseum.
Bumpy bus gets us there. We're promptly approach by a scalper who promises an English tour of the place and a skip of the cue... 50euros gone. Worth every penny, We walked past miles of tourists and the education we received was worthwhile. A long tour ending in the ancient palace gardens once lived in by Nero, god love the bloke. We learned of the ancient race track viewed by the emperors only accompanied by their wives in a massive viewing stadium to it's side. Not the most interesting until we're told of the four times a year when they were accompanied by 6 vestal virgins who 'serviced' their royalty yet had to remain untainted until their 30th year or otherwise face the penalty of death by being buried alive. Nice one!
And then we get the rain, umbrella up and sprint to la biga restaurant up the stairs across the road. Yuuuum. We've decided it's wet and cold enough to get back on our bus to our hotel. The hotel is boring so a change of clothes is required for a trip around the corner for salad and cocktails. A great night which gave Annika and I to talk over travel, many personal things, and the future.
Bodies failing, it's time to get to bed.
June 6th 2011: let's get up early and go to Vatican city... Fail. Suddenly realizing our "completely knackered" meter bad reached 11, we slept in, and rightly so. My forever lovely ex fiancé in Australia suggesting the Catholics had enough of our money and we best save ourselves for a brisk walk to the Fountain of Trevi and make a wish. The evening is moist and cool as we get directions from some friendly polizia toward the Fontana. It didn't disappoint. The entire city experience, all it's romance and brazen etiquette made our final famous stop a little sad. A realization of wondering how long it would be until either of us return, and an emptiness of knowing this place belongs to lovers and beauty. You want to add to it's history and marvel, but only with someone special and betrothed.
Sigh
More torturous romance from a short stroll to Al Presidente... perfect... Just perfect
A long slow walk sends us back to our hotel. We pack and sleep.
Farewell Rome. Thanks for the memories.
Location:Avenue Bosquet,Paris,France
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