Debrief

Well now been home nearly 48 hours and guess what? Still not sleeping that well. Could it be jet lag?
Must admit though the breakfast here is better, coffee not too bad either and as for the sex!!
Reflections on an overseas trip.
Solo Travel
Travelling solo I found quite difficult, especially in countries where English is not the first language.
Have an extra pair of eyes and ears makes finding your way, understanding signage and interpreting what you are being told much easier.
Also I found it quite lonely, especially in Saxony, where I think I went four days without talking to anyone, more than a few stumbling sentences.
Of course being solo means paying more for accommodation (single supplement) or having to share accommodation (dorms in YHA's)
I admire solo travelers who don't have a second language up their sleeve.
Group Travel
The group travel part worked, particularly as we had a small group with similar interests.
We saw lots of larger groups, bus loads of 35-40 who seemed to do a lot of milling around and waiting.
Our group of ten , with a small bus managed to get in and out of places with remarkable speed.
Our guide, Stephen, also got to know us, and we him, rather than just being another face in the crowd.
Some things didn't work that well however.
We had too many sit down lunches that consumed too much of the day. The consensus of the group was smaller snack lunches, finish earlier, allowing exploration of the town we were staying in, then a bigger meal at night.
Trains
The trains in Europe are very efficient. The long distance trains run to time, are fast and a quite economical way of getting around. You also get to see quite a lot of the countryside.
Europe is remarkable flat (well the bit I travelled over).
The Eurail Pass works well, though you need to pick you countries well. I included Austria in my pack, expecting to go there, and didn't.
Dresden
Half a day was just not enough to see an old city that's been rebuilt.
Munich
Great city, with English spoken most places.
Would recommend the English speaking walking tours, booked from the Tourist Info centre at the Central Station.
Especially good "The Nazi Party Origins plus Extension" walk
Brussels
Grey old city, but with a lot to offer. Do the Hop-on, Hop-off Bus thing to get an idea of what to see. Also good walking tours that start right in the centre at Grand Market. Saw some people doing a Segway tour, looked great fun and also bicycle tours. OR you can just walk.
Breugel YHA good value (terrible breakfast and sl noisy) and is quite central.
Paris
This city is a walkers dream. If you are staying  reasonably centrally you can walk anywhere (except perhaps Versailles unless you're keen).
I have been told, the way to see the gardens is get a golf buggy thing!
The metro works well and can get you where you don't want to walk.
Musts are Eiffel Tower, but go early, very early and climb to the second level, then use the lifts. Pick a clear day and the views are expansive.
There are museums all over the place, however all will cost you about $15 pp entry, unless you are there on the first Sunday of the month, then they're free. BUT then they're VERY crowed, go early.
My picks D'Orsay and Louvre.
I found the Pompidou Centre a bit boring.
Versailles was just too crowded and I think I lost the plot there. It was a Saturday too which may not have helped. Need a day there I suspect.
Get the audioguide at each place. Many don't have signage in English. Sit and listen, they are usually very good.
The Paris Tourist Information Centre is near L'Opera, not that easy to find. Go there and get them to book your tickets, as that puts you through the Entry with Tickets queue.
The other thing I would highly recommend are the Paris Walks. If I had found them earlier, I would have done two a day. Well presented, in English of course, some great guides and a way of whetting the appetite for more exploring.
http://www.paris-walks.com/
Another place to go is Montmartre where the views across the city are great.
The number of beggars, beggars belief! They are forever pushing something in you face to sign, shaking paper cups at you or trying the gold ring scam. Outside every museum, at every crossing of the Seine, at the railway stations, you just can't escape them.I found it easier just to wave them away with a terse "Non", but it optional. Some are fronts for the pick-pocket process, I was told.
The French haven't heard about the hazards of smoking and the streets are an ashtray. If you're asthmatic, take your puffers.
In fact, it seems much of Europe haven't got the smoking message.
In spite of their reputation, the Parisians mostly speak English. The more you try to speak French the more they will reply in English.
On our tour we had the Cultural Ambassador, whose approach was, if they didn't understand the first time, shout louder. Believe me, it doesn't work

D-day 36 Repatriation

I don’t know what it is about hotels, why are they so hot, or is it just in Europe. Too hot again and the doona arrangement does not allow for regulating by layering.  All in all another poor night’s sleep.
Nevertheless, surprisingly I survive in time to get breakfast and the shuttle to the airport.
The former was easy, the latter not without its excitement.
The shuttle was a large tourist bus with baggage stored underneath. As we were negotiating a roundabout exit there was the noise of baggage moving about, then someone noticed that the luggage door had strung open and the bus was spewing bags all over the grass verge. Luckily, for me at least, it was the bay with all the aircrew’s baggage. Surprisingly, once the baggage was retrieved, they thought it a great joke with giggles all round.
Even though I was characteristically, hours early, they were accepting check-ins, and after some hesitation about my carry-on (too heavy) I was given my pass, my passport examined, re-examined and finally stamped I passed border control.
I think you get tunnel vision when you travel, as I found myself with a cup of coffee with the Starbucks logo on it, without realising that’s where I had ended up. I had eschewed another vendor, saw a cinnamon spiral, thought that’s for me, and there I was with a Starbucks coffee and a cinnamon  spiral. The latter OK, the former up to the usual Starbucks standard (hot).
The flight seems to board early, though we wait in the plane some time. It fills slowly and turns out is only about half full. I am by myself and I can see at least 4 rows of 4 seats empty, and that’s just my section.
Room to stretch, pity I don’t want to sleep yet.
We land at Abu Dhabi, most modern airport, yet have to catch the bus to the terminal there is no sky bridge. It is suddenly VERY hot, 35C.
The airport is like any other, lots of people, lots of Duty Free, lots of announcements, lots of people running late for flights, and lots of Final calls.
Our flight is never called, or if it is I don’t hear it, and suddenly there is a rush to the gate.
Luckily, I have been invited up the front again, so I have a little private realm, well sort of, to my own.
“Champagne sir, or another sort of drink. Here’s the menu sir. All very nice.”
I break my rule of no alcohol on flights and have a good Australian Shiraz, bliss!
What I hope to be nice, is the flat bed for sleeping over much of the 14 hour flight.
I am sorely down, I really can’t sleep. Once again it’s either too hot or too cold, or my ankle aches, or something digs in, and so it goes on. Then the lady over my shoulder starts to snore.
In reality, I think I did sleep, though not as well as I had hoped.
I have breakfast, as we fly over the outback somewhere at about 2.30PM Sydney time and we land in time for tea tonight.
All very odd really, but that’s time zones for you
Finally, we head into Sydney, start the landing procedure, then at the last minute power on and around we go for another try. The Captain comes on and says something about weather conditions, though a passenger I spoke to later said we were too close to the water.
Either way we finally landed, bit the usual checks and here I am waiting for my plane to Adelaide.
Almost home

D-day 35 Brussels

The hostel room was noisy, right over the street, with traffic and reveller noise until the early hours. Sleep came intermittently between screeches of brakes, laughter, scream (not sure whether ecstasy or pain, or both).
I thought the breakfasts at Paris were bad, well the hostel was  really bad, crap selection, little choice of crap selection, terrible coffee and bad bread.
Belgium makes the most wonderful bread, way better than the bread in Paris, and the hostel serves up “Tip-Top type crap. Luckily it was free (well included in the bed price).

Packed up, placed my stuff in the locker and headed out.
One of the maps had a perimeter walk I could do that effectively started at the hostel.
First off down into the Marolles, rather like the Marais in Paris, rather seedy, however breaking out into a Place where vendors were setting up, to be kind, junk stalls. Some interesting rubbish all around.
On my way I passed a cartoon on a wall. I had learnt yesterday that the town had commissioned about 20 of these cartoon on blank walls throughout the city to cheer the place up.
Nothing cheers up Brussels, it is grey, grey and greyer.
Then past the last remaining medieval gate, Port de Hal, and then I got of course slightly and headed into the Louise area. Narrow cobbled streets, people of all hues hurrying to work, rather seedy in parts and the more I corrected my error, the seedier it became.
And then when all hope was lost, I popped out at the Palace Royal and met Leopold II.
He’s an interesting bloke, and if I got the story right, a man of few morals. His father Leo I was rather impoverished, and though he had great ideas for Belgium and Brussels was unable to fulfil them.
Then along comes Leo II, who has buckets of money, builds lavishly, spends a fortune, but where did the money come from?
Whilst most European countries took various colonies in Africa, the French the west, the Poms the east, the Dutch the south and Germany the left over’s, Belgium got the Congo. Only difference was Leo II and his cronies owned it as a private business concern and weren’t too fussed about exploiting everyone and everything. Part of the legacy was the debacle when they pulled out and they were part to blame for the Rwanda massacres too.
Enough history, on, ever onwards.
Following this walk I realised there was a pattern developing.
Every so often one of these wall cartoons would pop into view. I reread my map and find I am doing the Comic Strip Walk and that’s why there are so many pictures of cartoons.
BTW Tin Tin and the Smurfs are products of Belgium.
By this time I have walked about ¾ of the circumference of Brussels, passed through nine of Brussels, my feet hurt, and more importantly it’s starting to rain.
Coffee called for and consumed. It’s still raining, so a Museum is called for, and found. It’s not the most riveting, The Brussels Museum but when I emerge an hour or so later, the rain has stopped and it was time for beering and wenching!!
Well lunching anyway.
Had some of the famous Belgium pomme frittes. Just like our fried chips really. 
Then back to the hostel, retrieve my luggage and find my hotel, which is near the airport, to save a scramble tomorrow.
That means negotiating the local train service, that proves quite easy, what doesn’t is finding my hotel.
I am now out in the suburbs, the airport is 25 km from Brussels, my maps are no good.
It is dead reckoning again, however I wasn’t reckoning on the landmarks being excluded by huge corporate development.
This is the HQ of DHL, Ernst and Young, Canon and others for Europe and their buildings aren’t your average Santos building.
Anyway I finally find it, the smallest building in the area, Holiday Inn Express.
My last night!!
Going home
Without my sorrow
Going home
Sometime tomorrow
Going home
To where it’s better
Than before (Leonard Cohen)
Picasa Web pictures

D-day 33 Paris to Brussels

Bug out day, pack up after six days in Paris and head to grey Brussels.
The bags pack quite easily so I am  wondering what I've lost.
I've stopped laundering, as I think I have enough clean stuff to get me through and arrive home smelling like a polecat.
BTW what do polecats smell like?
Drag my bags up to Gard de Nord, where I am too early, of course. Watch the passing parade, have a coffee, chat to a couple of Australian's who are off to Iepers and a driving trip around France, and then onto the train.
Find my voiture and seat, throw my bags up on the rack, get settled in, open the computer and think, better check my seat number. I am in seat 22, my ticket says I should be in seat 33, Crap.
Nonchalantly, try and make my move look routine. I think I am the only one who cares.
Settle beside another guy who is on his iPad the whole time, we don't speak.
Skype Sue for a while as were going along, the train has WiFi, but not quick enough for Skype to work that well. We give up.

Brussels arrives after only 90 minutes, it's 11.30AM.
My bloody phone can't log into Maps, so I can't get directions to the YHA.
The taxi driver I grab has no idea and finally drops me at Gare du Central, I got out at Gare du Midi, EU 15.00 later. Turns out he wasn't that far off track as the YHA is about 200 metres away, but I don't know that, and don't have a map.
I find the Grand Market, I've been there before, grab a map from the Tourism Place and get directions from them.
All is well, book in, get rid of my luggage and head back to the Grand market for a walking tour.
Oh no. not another walking tour. Fraid so.
This goes from 2.30 to nearly 6.00PM, given by an Argentinian, who is here virtue of a Hungarian mother.
He is very good, full of facts, has his own views and we actually do some walking too.
We get the history of Belgium, who started Brussels, and how it ended up a schizophrenic city, in
rather schizophrenic country, with the Flemish, the Dutch and the others all vying for superiority.
Truly multilingual, but luckily for the poor old tourist most, except taxi drivers, speak English.
Brussels is waffles and chocolate, I have yet to try either.
Maybe tomorrow as a parting gesture.
Now I find myself in the basement of the YHA having a vin rouge, with loud music and a smoker.
I must be desperate.
As the sign on the door says "If the music is too loud, then you are too old". I think they're right, though it's the smoke that's really going to get me to bail out.
Photos later.
Pictures from Picasa

D-day 32 Paris Ile de la Cite and Montmartre

Last night I was writing my blog and the prose was running free. I was on a roll and the words all seemed to fit beautifully. I had only had one wine, I should add.
Anyway, the computer was running slow, so I rebooted, and yes all the Pulitzer Prize stuff was gone.
So, my last blog was written with some frustration and some abbreviation. I will do better today.
A later start, have to Skype with Sue, so hang around, finally get out after 9.00AM.
I am doing another Paris Walk, Ile de la Cite and Notre Dame, and as it's not that far from the Pantheon, I get a look at that too.
The Pantheon is about 1500 metres further on the left bank of the Seine, past the Sorbonne.
I arrive at the meeting place for the Paris Walks with 40 minutes to spare, so off I head, past the Sorbonne, as I said and to the Pantheon.

No time to go in, already a line up. The Pantheon is notable as having one of those special triple domes and though originally a church the French Revolution put paid to all that, and it is now a mausoleum. Its necropolis contains such notables as Voltaire, Zola, Victor Hugo and Madame Curie.
Then backtrack, through the Sorbonne to Ile de la Cite to meet the group.
Mary Ellen, is a Parisian with an American accent, who doesn't quite have the gift the other guys had.
Nevertheless, we managed a good 2 hour stroll across and around the Ile de la Cite, with Notre Dame as our focal point.
Ile de la Cite was the site of the original encampment by the Parisii, a Celtic tribe, who used the island and the Seine. Then the Romans came, and it was they who gave Paris it's name, from the original tribe. I guess that's pretty obvious.
We heard about the original palace on the sight, abandoned when one of the kings died and his wife, one of the Medeci's was to distraught to live there any long, and moved across the river to the Louvre, before it became arty and crafty!!.
It's now the Palais de Justice, and has been extensively altered, with bits demolished etc.
Did you know that the concierge was originally "keeper of the candles" managing the supply of candles for nobles etc, and gradually became what they are today.
We found another bridge laden with padlocks and it seems that couple do as sign of everlasting love and devotion. Just wonder why some are combination locks! There was a newly married couple there today attaching their lock.
From there it was all uphill to get a look at Montmartre and the Sacre Coeur church that crowns the norther Parisian skyline.
Took just 40 minutes from the Seine to Montmartre though I was sweating by the time I got there. This place is humid.
Sacre Coeur is another church, Montmartre, however the surrounding suburb is just bounding with life, the square full of food outlets, budding artists showing their efforts for sale and the usual on the spot portraits, none of which looked like the sitter!!
There was also a Salvador Dali exhibition on, which was rather ho hum. I like Dali, but they had really nothing of his there, mostly pen sketches he had done on books for his manager.
Then the long downhill back to base, for the last time.
Past the Moulin Rouge, looking in need of some make-up, the rouge getting a little thin.
Then down past the Folie Bergere, which I find is literally round the corner from my hotel, which is near the corner of Rue de Bergere, and it is looking seriously in need of some love. In fact, apart from some new posters, it almost looks derelict.
Well that's Paris for you. I am sure there are things I should have done, the sewers, the catacombs, that cemetery where a whole lot of famous people are buried, along with some not so famous, BUT they're all dead.
More time at Versailles perhaps, yes certainly.
Tomorrow the fast train to Brussels and whilst on the train maybe some thoughts on Paris.
Picasa web albums

The Great War in a Nutshell

At the end of out Western Front Tour, our Guide Steve came up with this summary.I have just managed to get it from him.

Germany, Austria and Italy are standing together in the middle of a pub when Serbia bumps into Austria and spills Austria's pint.
Austria demands Serbia buy it a complete new suit because there are splashes on its trouser leg. Germany expresses its support for Austria's point of view.
Britain recommends that everyone calm down a bit.
Serbia points out that it can't afford a whole suit, but offers to pay for the cleaning of Austria's trousers.
Russia and Serbia look at Austria. Austria asks Serbia who it's looking at.
Russia suggests that Austria should leave its little brother alone.
Austria inquires as to whose army will assist Russia in compelling it to do so.
Germany appeals to Britain that France has been looking at it, and that this is sufficiently out of order that Britain should not intervene.
Britain replies that France can look at who it wants to, that Britain is looking at Germany too, and what is Germany going to do about it?
Germany tells Russia to stop looking at Austria, or Germany will render Russia incapable of such action.
Britain and France ask Germany whether it's looking at Belgium.
Turkey and Germany go off into a corner and whisper.
When they come back, Turkey makes a show of not looking at anyone.
Germany rolls up its sleeves, looks at France, and punches Belgium.
France and Britain punch Germany. Austria punches Russia.
Germany punches Britain and France with one hand and Russia with the other.
Russia throws a punch at Germany, but misses and nearly falls over.
Japan calls over from the other side of the room that it's on Britain's side, but stays there.
Italy surprises everyone by punching Austria.
Australia punches Turkey, and gets punched back. There are no hard feelings because Britain made Australia do it.
France gets thrown through a plate glass window, but gets back up and carries on fighting.
Russia gets thrown through another one, gets knocked out, suffers brain damage, and wakes up with a complete personality change.
Italy throws a punch at Austria and misses, but Austria falls over anyway. Italy raises both fists in the air and runs round the room chanting.
America waits till Germany is about to fall over from sustained punching from Britain and France, then walks over and smashes it with a bar stool, then pretends it won the fight all by itself.
By now all the chairs are broken and the big mirror over the bar is shattered.
Britain, France and America agree that Germany threw the first punch, so the whole thing is Germany's fault .
While Germany is still unconscious, they go through its pockets, steal its wallet, and buy drinks for all their friends.

D-day 31 Paris Louvre

Rained all night and it was rather cold, so slept well, temperature regulation not required. Bitten by something though. Probably scabies!
I wasn't looking forward to the walk to the Louvre in the rain and standing about.
Nevertheless, I headed off after the breakfast, if you could call it that.
It was overcast, thought not raining and I found my way to the Louvre easily, I have now done it a couple of times, with variations.

Today is free at all Paris museums, it is the first Sunday of the month, so I am early, 8.15AM for a 9.00AM opening, and I am 100 metres from the start. Within 30 minutes the queue is 300 metres long, and by the time we start to move it has snaked out of sight.
As soon as it opens and we are past security there is a rush for the Mona Lisa.
In spite of being in the first 100 or so, there seem to be people coming from every orifice of the building, so by the time I get there, the crowd is about 5-6 deep.
I must say I am not sure quite what the fuss is all about, though you are kept back some way.


I am sure her enigmatic smile is due the the two layers of glass that shield her from the seething masses.
She is bigger than I imagine, most people seem to think she is small.
After doing the obligatory Mona, cruise the various halls  bathing in the culture of it all.
The second favourite exhibit, is that lump of marble, know as the Venus de Milo.
Now there's a beauty for you, far outshines that old moaning Mona.
Probably a bit chunky for our modern tastes, she is quite divine.
In fact, I really like all the greco-roman sculpture, it has a certain something. It must be all that marble.
Nothing to do with the half naked bodies, I should hasten to add. I only look at them for the articles.
So four hours and many footsteps later I have negotiated much of the Louvre.
The Louvre is shaped like a flat topped letter A with long legs. It is on 4 levels yet not all the levels connect, so sometimes you back-track, or go up, then down a level to get from A to B.
It's easy to get bamboozled, as I did quite often.
The saving grace is the "Sortie" signs with a pyramid shape that designate the Pyramid that is the entry and exit point.
If in Paris the Louvre is a must. An audioguide is a must, yet don't expect to see all the famous paintings as many are not here, or in some cases, hard to find.
From the Louvre off the the marshes of Paris, or the Marais, as they are now known.
There we meet Chris, of Paris Walks. I say we, as by the time I get there about 20 others are waiting.
Initially, I am not sure that Chris will keep up yesterday's standard. How wrong I am. He is excellent, full of facts, anecdotes and some quite quirky humour, with some Monty Pythonesque features
The Marais is an area quite close to what was the Royal Palaces so quite a good place to be if seeking the kings favours.
Consequently, many fine houses or Hotel Particuleir (town houses) were built close by in the Marais. Some elements persist, one currently on the market for EU 31 million, as the Marais is now quite a well sought after area. It was also the Jewish quarter, and still is though gradually prices are forcing them out-from 17 down to 7 synagogues.
There is also the story of betrayal of the Jews of Paris by the Vichy French government in WW2 collaborating with the Gestapo, leading to 75,000 French Jews being sent to Auschwitz (3000 survived).
It is an area of narrow back streets and shops and restaurants, and is packed-it's Sunday.
Over two hours later it is time to head back to base, where I shower, and after some cogitation, I head out to the bar on the corner for tea.
It is here I get an education in French politics as the bar erupts in cheer when they hear that Sarkozy has been defeated by the socialist candidate Hollande.
Picasa web albums

D-day 30 Versailles and Paris

Up earlier than usual, as I have a half day trip booked to Versailles and I need to find my way to the start point.
Early chat to Sue on Skype, breakfast, miserable again, so stole more for lunch, then headed off.
It's one of those tours in a big bus with lots of people.

The trip to Versailles is pretty quick, via the Arc de Triomphe, and a short trip into the country.
The parking lot is filled with about 50 buses all our size.
We are given our instructions by our guide and then the crush starts.
Armed with an audioguide I set off with all the others, through the Royal Apartments, dressing rooms, chapels, ante rooms and pro rooms, rooms of all shapes and sizes even the Hall of Mirrors.
All negotiated through a teeming mass of hot bodies. Some of the larger rooms provide relief, as you can escape the humanity.

The opulence of the place is hard to imagine. None of my pictures do it justice. The only other places I have see like this are churches.

I am on a time limit, half day really means under 2 hours, so it's all a rush to get everything done.

What I don't realise is my ticket doesn't get me entry on the gardens. I have rushed through the Palace to get to the gardens, so I double back and have another go at the Palace.

The humanity is there still, of which I acknowledge am a contributor.

Then it's back on the bus and back to Paris.

All in all a rather unsatisfying experience. I feel cheated, yet it's  my own fault. I had intended a whole day, and for some reason didn't.

Word to the wise-Versailles needs a whole day and include the Gardens. The audioguide is excellent, yet you need time to stop at each point, get the full commentary.

As for the gardens, I imagine they're great, just wish I'd seen more than just from the Palace.

So here I am, back in Paris feeling slightly cheated, so what to do?
How about lunch on the Ile de le Cite. And that's what I do via Pont Desarts and Pont Neuf.

I have decided to do a city walk and the meeting time is 2.30PM so I have some time to kill, wander around Les Halles, have a coffee and meet the guide.

The Paris Walks have been going 30 years, and we are lucky enough to have Peter Caine, the originator, as a guide.

What in interesting 2 hours it was as we wandered around the part of the city that was the markets. Les Halles literally means the Halls, which housed the markets for over 800 years. They have now moved out of the city, in 1969, however some of the old medieval parts are still there if you know where to look. And he did?

Did you know that there is a separate butcher for pork, the charcutire and that they use EVERY part of the beast. The normal butcher is the boucher, and they deal with everything else.
Why the English are known by the French as Rostbif?
Why stick up two fingers to be rude? How the finding that the cork tree provided an effective seal for bottles would impact on the ability to collect taxes and more!!
Best EU12 I have spent. I was so impressed I bought the company!! Seriously though, I plan to do a couple more before I head out.
If you're in Paris and have time, this one at least was great.
It's now 4.30PM and time to head back to base, via a beer.
As evening falls, so does the rain starts, it is getting heavier and heavier. I think I'll have tea in tonight.
Tomorrow, probably more T and B, it's the Louvre.
Picasa Album pictures

D-day 29 Paris

Another good night's sleep, solving the HOT problem by urging the doona to live only on one side of its bag.
Day overcast, as predicted. Breakfast crappy again, stole more food and after Skyping badly with Sue, off.
Today it's the Arc de Triomphe, and it's quite a walk, about 5 km. The walk is pleasant, the boulevards are open and to start, even tho I am late, the foot traffic not too bad.
The Arc hoves into sight and I have to work how to get to it.
Pedestrians don't try to cross the Arc de Triomphe roundabout. Eventually I find the underpass.
In fact hire cars aren't insured for damage on the RHS of the vehicle, if the accident occurs at the Arc roundabout!
Find the underpass and join the ubiquitous queue to get tickets to climb the Arc.
It's not too long, and soon I am round and round up the spiral staircase and at the top.

Whilst not quite as expansive as the Eiffel, the Arc certainly gives you the feel of how Paris laid out with radiating spokes of Avenues, with the main one, the Champs Elycees, connecting the Arc to the Place de la Concorde and right down to the Tuileries and the Louvre.
Back the other way the Avenue des Grand Armees extends to the "new" Grand Arch and the Defence Departments.
The bas relief are, in the usual style excellent, and hard to capture in pixels. They certainly went in for Roman allegory, and more tits and bums.
From the Arc it's down the Champs.
There seems to be a rash of lost gold rings in Paris. Four times now I have been walking, minding my own business, when someone coming the other way bends over and produces a gold ring, that they have just found off the footpath. The first one had me, I must confess, and I congratulated them on their luck, then I realised a con was in progress. Just out of the hotel, it happened this morning, she wasn't very good and neither was the guy on the Champs. I have learned to just wave them away with a Gallic "non". Next will be a polite Australian "Fuck off" but I haven't had to resort to that yet.
I hit the Grand and Petite Palais, there's nothing on that appeals, so I circuit round the Place de la Concorde the site of the guillotine during the French Revolution. In the centre is the Luxor Obelisk, that used to guard Ramses II tomb at Luxor (plagiarised from Wikipedia).
The Madeleine Church was just a hop away, so that duly inspected, I had lunch, watching all the devout come and go, double cross themselves as they left, and studiously avoid the beggar at the gates to the church.
The one thing Paris doesn't do well is have information booths, or offices, you know, the big blue "i" sign. I finally found one and sat there some time, sparing my feet, and booked a tour of Versailles. I have been told, miss the Moulin Rouge, it's only tits and bums, but don't miss Versailles.
As I've had quite a surfeit of T&B, the palace got the nod. Tomorrow.
It's still just after 1.00PM, too early to head home, so what to do, what to do?
I see a sign "George Pompidou Centre" so off I head.
The centre houses mostly modern and contemporary art,much of it by quite famoous artists like Dali, Picasso, the Cubists, but none from Fidel Castro, Dadaists and early Surrealists.
There is a Matisse exhibition on "Pairs and Series" that seem to be all the paintings Matisse did two of. Again leaving me quite unsatisfied.
Alas no Courbet!
Must confess, much of it left me rather unimpressed, however the Art Spiegelman Co-Mix was rather fun. Art is a cartoonist, probably best known for cartoons he did for Mad magazine and Playboy. That was more to my liking.
I headed home, albeit the hotel, via Rue St Denis and others, overshooting my target, yet making it to my eating place for a beer.
Greeted with a hand shake was a nice touch, so I head back there for tea after a shower etc.
It's still a solitary life and I'm rather pleased it's coming to an end.
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D-day 28 Paris

Slept well in my double bed-alone!!This hotel is too hot like the previous one.
Unable to keep the window open as it rained overnight, however dawn bought blue skies.
Breakfast is a travesty for EU 17 so I pinch as much as I can for lunch, which isn't much.
Sue isn't home from work so we can't Skype, bugger.
Today is to be the Louvre, so I head off before 8 AM, then decide that I want to get to Rodin's Garden, and I should have gone yesterday, as it's almost back to my previous hotel and I'll follow that up with Musee D'Orsay.
The Louvre is very quiet at 8.50AM, the line is just forming, so I motor on across the Seine, past the D'Orsay, where the lines are small too, past the Musee de Legion of Honour, past the National Assembly (says he name dropping furiously) and find myself at Rodin's Garden  and museum, 45 minutes to spare.
On the way I come across what must the the longest and most dangerous extension lead ever. My picture shows less than a quarter of it snaking across the street TWICE, along the footpath and around the corner. Talk about OH&S.
Walk around to the Hotel des Invalides, the old hospital for the poor, now the military museum, it's not open either, and I'm done with military for the moment.
The queue at Rodin's Garden is small still, so I join it, soon after it's 100 metres long.

Rodin's Garden is a delight, I think, however I am disappointed as apart from the Thinker in residence, the Kiss is not.
He was one prolific sculptor. The bronze wall is just fabulous and the picture really won't show just how intricate it is. He was certainly into buttocks, boobs and peni! But more on those later.
I head back to D'Orsay and the queue is 300 metres long-bugger!! I join it and decide I will bail out after 15 minutes, but it splutters forward at sufficient speed I stay with it. They are a great place to people watch.
We kept pace with a class of students from Italy. Each little subgroup had one person who was the Alpha, often a girl, and of course often the prettiest, certainly the loudest, who held most of the conversation. I watched another Italian on the phone. It is an expressive language, even if the other person couldn't see the hand and arm movements.
Where was I? Yes, D'Orsay.
I surrendered my bag, and into the vast museum, formally the main station of Paris, Gard D'Orsay.
A Degas exhibition was on "Le Nu". I didn't know that meant nude, and there was more of breasts and buttocks. Looking at his pictures it would be easy to think that all everyone did, well at least the women, was bathe, as that's what they were doing in just about every study. Clean lot!.
The main hall is filled with statuary, more breasts and buttocks, though mostly in marble.
The impressionists were on the top floor, the post impressionists at the Bureau de Poste, just kidding.
It was a smorgasbord of the who's who of art. Degas, of course, he's the nudey guy, Van Gogh, Gaugin, Manet, Monet, Cezanne, Renoir and not just their doodlings either, the good stuff.
Fouth floor was art nouveau, as was third and second.
The ground floor had the Degas Nudes Exhibition (packed) and an interesting gallery of a bloke called Courbet with one picture listed on their plan particularly-"L'Origine du Monde". Talk about breasts and buttocks and other bibs and bobs. Google it, though I warn you, MA 15+.
Oh and you are not allowed to take pictures in the museum.
Suddenly it was past 2PM, I hadn't had lunch, and I'd been walking nearly 3 hours.
My lunch was in my surrendered bag, so to eat I must exit. I was done so I exited and headed across the Seine to have my meagre lunch in full sunlight-what a day.
I meander around the Tuileries, along to the Place de la Concord, where there must be at least 50 tourist buses. Talk about spoil a view and a photo. I can see the Arc de Triomphe way up the Champs Elycees, my target tomorrow I think.
I head back through the Tuileries to the Louvre, as it's on may way home. The line is quite small, however my feet are done.
Anyway, it's free on the first Sunday of every  month, and guess what next Sunday is?
So I head back to base, via a beer, grab my clothes dirty and have an exciting hour or so at they laundry, hopefully for the last time.
I've found a nice place to eat nearby, with a chirpy maitre de, so I go back there and indulge in some "pates de la moment", which turns out to be linguine. That and vin rouge and I am a happy man.
Well I do miss company (see reference to Skype above)
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D-day 27 Paris

We are all ready to break hotel windows, the rooms are so hot. None of us slept that well, as we were unable to get our thermostats in sync with the hotels.
Walter and I left our window open so we fared reasonable well.
Breakfast was rather sad, the last meal together, though we had to fight for it. The hotel wasn't going to give it too us, however were unable to repel our blitzkrieg of the front desk. We learn something this trip.
Our farewells done, I headed off to do battle with the Eiffel Tower, or more precisely the crowds.
I was later than intended and the queues were already over 100 metres for the lift ascent. The stair ascent, albeit to the second level was much shorter.
The obligatory handing over of money, bag inspection, scanning it was up and up and up, yet apart from my usual sweating, not as hard as I thought. I think the crowds pace was slower than I am used to. It's interesting looking at the wear marks on the steps and clearly more people climb than decent, however it may also be due to the heavier tread of an ascent.
Then the lift to the top and some simply great views of Paris, though somewhat tempered by the dull day. Our good weather has deserted us already.
I spent about 90 minutes on the Tower, the top and the lower levels. It is a must, but get there early, and be prepared to wait.
Off across the Seine to the Chaillot Palace which houses a number of things including the Marine Museum, which I trotted into.

Lots of great models, all to do with the French Navy and various maritime achievements. Good value for EU7.
It was then time to get my gear from my hotel, where I had left it and get to my new abode in Lafayette, using the Hop on Hop off buses.
Found my hotel quite easily, however they didn't have my booking. "This is Mercure Lafayette? " I enquire. "No, this is Mercure something else, Lafayette is around the corner". Oh crap.
So here I am back in the garret of this funny hotel, sixth floor, with the slowest lift ever.
Lafayette is a district of narrow roads and lanes with many restaurants and cafes. Pity I have to eat on my own.
I then ventured out to Gare du Nor to get my train ticket to Brussels, so now I'm set.
A nice meal at La Marguerite and here I am writing my blog.
Tomorrow, well if it's raining, The Louvre (100% chance of rain), if not Arc de Triomphe and Champs Elysees, I think.

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D-day 26 Normandy-Paris

Walter goes wild on the last night at Normandy
Another good nights sleep, and woke to sunshine, which persisted all day!!
It's big out day and the finish of the war stuff and time for a bit of kulcher.
Paris.
It's May Day so protests and a holiday.
Paris is bathed in sunshine and there are hoards everywhere. The line up for the Eiffel Tower is five columns snaking for hundreds of metres.
We have no rooms at the hotel, they messed up so we have to wait until they find some, then clean them.
We head off to do the Hop on Hop Off experience and I decide to get a 2 day ticket as I am here for 6 days now.
My plans to go elsewhere have been thwarted partly by poor planning on my part ad partly as the weather forecast for later in the week is bad. I can bide my time in the Louvre or of Notre Dame or somewhere.
I have no pictures for today. The bottom of a double decker is not the ideal place for pictures and as I am going to most of the sites we passed, I hope to get better ones then.
We get back and find our room ready, however we have a double bed.
Walter and I have become quite close but not that close.
It takes an age for house keeping to come and separate the beds and re linen them.
I plan on walking my but off. I need to, we have been having 3 course lunches and then followed up with dinner AND little exercise.
My new hotel is 6 km away, so I have a bit of a walk tomorrow to get there at least.
Also breakfast is so expensive, I will do what I did in Germany and make it lunch too.
We have our final dinner together and will see each other a breakfast.
Walter goes off to London, Paula and Brian, from Albury, go off to Ireland and Neil and Alan, from Queensland, head off to Cracov in Poland.
They've been good company and we have had some laughs and good natured teasing and will miss each other.
Tomorrow the Tower early so I miss the crowd. and some pictures

D-day 25 Normandy

Hard to believe yet I woke after a reasonable night's sleep and the sky was blue and the sun shining.
Today, Omaha Beach.
First off the American Cemetery at Omaha , overlooking the beach, rows upon rows of white crossed with the occasional Star of David interspersed..
The Niland brothers lie side by side, with grass in front heavily trodden. They were the brothers whose death and story inspired "Finding Private Ryan".
There was also Theodore Roosevelt, son of Teddy, I think who died of a heart attack and won the Medal of Honour!!

From a cemetery to a church at Saint Mere Englise where a US Airborne became suspended on the church bell tower. He is still there in effigy, however, never let the truth get in the way of a good tourism opportunity, he is now on the corner overlooking the square, not the one over looking the fields
They also had a great museum with a glider and C37 (DC3) with a very good collection of uniforms and equipment.
From there to the varius causeways the US Airborne needed to capture to deny German reinforcements getting to the Cherbourg Peninsular.
We finished with the battery at Point Du Hoc, made famous in "The Longest day" involving the US Rangers climbing the cliffs to get to the guns.
They are a pretty impressive piece of German slave labour construction, that were unable to withstand the might of off shore bombardment and airborn assault both by bombing and direct attack. The bomb craters are still very much in evidence.
By this time it had started to rain, again.
Back to the hotel and the end of this part of the trip.
Now to Paris
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D-day 24 Normandy

Felt crappy overnight with fever and bellyache. Too much omelet and fat for lunch, that's what I'll blame, tho doesn't explain the fever, so another bugger of a night, tossing and turning, initially cold, then too hot.
One good nights sleep would be a welcome surprise as would fine weather.
Off in fine weather to look at the Mulberry harbours placed at Arromanches-les-Bains.

Sherman Tank

By the time we got to the viewing point it was blowing a gale and guess what? Raining.
The Mulberry Harbours were artificial harbours built out from Arromanches to enable ships to dock and unload supplies, ammunition, trucks and tanks etc. This was prefabbed in UK and floated across the Channel and the various elements bolted together to form docks, on and off ramps etc. Some of the various bits and pieces are still visible in off shore still.
It was also at Arromanches that the pipeline carrying fuel etc. to be pumped across the channel, code named Pluto was landed. This pipeline, and a similar one for the Americans at Omaha Beach was to supply most of the Allies fuel till later in the war.

At Arromanches is a very good museum, mostly dealing with the Mulberry Harbour, some great models and a very good collection of artifacts etc.
Then back up to the headland to a film in the round for a film on D-day. Excellent, with some very god 360 degree effects-recommended and free if you are a veteran!!
Lunch was taken across the road from the museum. Another second rate French meal. I had smoked salmon. Quite good, then the toughest, stringiest steak, that was uncutable. Most of us were disappointed with our meals. And the service was Sloooow! We wouldn't stand for it back home, though it is the French way, a lingering lunch.
Whilst having lunch the sun shone, the rail stopped and there was some blue sky.
As soon as we emerged, it started to rain again, which was a pity as we had a very impressive German coastal battery to look over, that required walking.
The batteries at Longues-sur-mer, consisting of four bunkers with 150mm guns, a major observation post and many machine gun posts providing support and defence. These were attacked from behind by paratroopers, but not before the airforce and some battleships had made a mess of them.
By this time it was raining and blowing and we got thoroughly wet, luckily Rod, our driver/guide, came and met us to save us from being drowned rats.
From there back to Bayeux, where some vital chores needed doing, laundry.
Of course soon after it stopped raining and cleared up.
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D-day 23 Normandy

After a late night sleep came easily until about 4 AM when it became too hot to be comfortable even with the window open and the A/C turned down. Solved by persuading the doona to go to one side of its bag.
Breakfast over, we met our new driver and guide, Rod, an ex Grenadier Guard.
Then what seemed a long drive to Caen with the weather deteriorating as we got closer to the coast.
Our first stop near the site of the airborne divisions night glider landings to capture one of two bridges needed for the invasion.
Yet another War Cemetery, where two Australians lie. Both RAAF, the  most recent Flt Lt "Lacey" Smith, whose Spitfire was pulled out of the sea, with his body still in the wreckage, off the coast only a few years ago.

Then off to Pegasus Bridge, the site of another glider landing, and the capture of the bridge vital to the allies plans to break out of Normandy.
The two bridges crossed the canal and river that lead to Caen, a strategic transport hub for the entire region.
We had lunch in the Pegasus Bridge Cafe, run by the daughter of the owners who were here on D-Day. She was a delightful lady, with quite wonderful food, fresh omelet, with fresh salad and some delightful desserts.
Then along the length of Sword Beach, the British beach, with the weather getting worser and worser (yuk).
We struggled out of the van to look at some old gun emplacements to be nearly blown off our feet, and cold!
Interestingly, the gun points inland, which was part of the design of the Atlantic Wall, by Rommel.
We then followed the coast to the sight of the only D-day VC, awarded to a sergeant who was successful in attacking a concrete bus stop, which put up little resistance. When his mates found he had liberated a bus stop, the ribbed him so much for the rest of the day he was unstoppable.
Then on to Juno Beach, the landing beach for the Canadians.
With the weather failing to improve we headed for our hotel at Bayeux, famous for an English wall hanging, I believe.
The weather is so bad, we are confined to barracks tonight, so dinner will be at the hotel.
This weather is getting tiresome. My plan to walk in the Loire Valley is looking damp.
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D-day 22 Compiegn and Paris

Bugger of a night, too hot, too cold and not able to get happy medium.
Today we bug out and head to Paris, via Compiegn.
Compiegn is a forest where just prior to 11/11/1918 the Armistice was negotiated and finally signed.
It is quite remote, as the negotiations were all done in secrecy.
The negotiations and signing took place in a railway carriage, which was, after the war set up as a museum and famously the place where Hitler made the French sign the cease fire in WW2. His revenge for the Treaty of Versailles.
He then ordered the carriage be taken to Berlin where it was put on show. The Waffen SS burnt it towards the end of the war.

The carriage on site is an oxymoronic exact replica, however NO photos are allowed.
It could be said the signing of the armistice lead directly to WW2.
From there onto Paris, past Charles De Gaul airport, and rather circuitously to our hotel which is 3 minutes walk from the Eiffel, the Seinne and other things.
We had a quick walk to Napoleon's tomb, just to stretch our legs and tonight we have a final dinner together on the Seinne.
Dinner good fun cruising the river past some reasonable bits of real estate, like Notre Dame, Pont Neuf, Musee d'Orsay to name just a few.
Late finish and too tired to finish blog hence its late publication
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D-day 22 Mont St Quentin and the Hindenburg Line

Slept very well, apart from the usual trip to the loo and Walter, now fully recovered turning the light on at some ungodly hour, like 6.50AM.

Australian 2nd Division Memorial

Today we finish our Western Front Tour with the campaigns of late 1918 so it's off to Peronne and Mont St Quentin where Australia earned 8 VC's.
To label Mont St Quentin a mountain is laughable, however it is a high point that had been heavily defended by the Germans and was classed as a Hindenburg Line Outpost.
This was now a mobile war, with movement and action rather than trench warfare.
This particular action, that involved depleted Australian Battalions was deemed by the General Staff as "presumption".
It took two attempts to take the Mont and then later the town or Peronne nearby, at the cost of 3000 Australian casualties.. The outcome was in John Monash, the Australian Commander's words due "first and chiefly to the wonderful gallantry" of tired soldiers.

It is here that the 2nd Australian Division have their memorial. The original memorial depicted an Australian Soldier, poised to bayonet a fallen eagle (symbolic of Germany). The Germans destroyed it in the WW2, however left the bas relief intact. It was one of only three memorial damaged by the Germans in WW2, on, we were told, the explicit instructions of A Hitler.
The new memorial is a reflective Digger, head bowed.
It was then on to Peronne and a new Museum in the old castle.
What a fabulous museum it is too. It started with us being greeted by a very short, very personable Frenchman, who gave us the outline of the various rooms and then let us loose.
The museum is rather understated, with a good spread of exhibits in with info in three languages, however not too much information.
Some great artwork and a new exhibition called "Missing" that gives details of one serviceman who remains missing over 100 consecutive days of the battle of the Somme. It starts with an Australian.
It's then on to Bellenglise, where the 4th Australian Division Memorial is sited., following a battle with about 5 times their number and is the place their war ended. They were relieved and sent back to the rest area. They were to return to the line on 10th November, but were saved by the Armistice.
Then on to the site of the final action undertaken by the Australians just out of Beaurevoir, where they had to take over a failed assault of the American troops, just as they were to be withdrawn to rest.
This action cost a mind blowing 900 men killed or wounded.
We were done. The Western Front is finished.
We have followed the 1st AIF from Flanders to France. We have visited all the Division Memorials and the Australian memorial at Villers Bretonneux and what's more been there for the Dawn Service.
Bring on Paris and Normandy.
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D-day 21 Anzac Day

An early night was in the offering, yet refused, what with eating drinking and blog writing.
An early start however was obligatory, 2.45AM to be up, dressed and out of here at 3.30AM so we can to to Villers Bretonneux in good time, and avoid the rush.
Slept badly, had a dream we got to the Dawn Service as dawn was breaking!!.
Was woken by Walter going to the loo and then the alarm went off not 1 minute later.
Dressed, quick cup of lukewarm coffee, check on Walter who is dithering, even though all his gear was ready last night and finally into the bus right on 3.30AM. It is cold, yet no rain and looks like none overnight.
A quiet drive to the Memorial, little traffic. The gendarmerie try and stop us at the village, yet finally relent and we are driven right to the entrance of the Memorial.
There's a walk of about 200 metres to the Memorial itself and we get good seats in the front third.

Dawn breaks over Australian War Memorial, Viller Bretonneux

On the way we are handed a programme and a small FranceAustralian pin badge.
There are about 5000 seats put out and by the start of the service they look full.
The crow are entertained by a school band from Australia and a choir. The service is being broadcast live to Oz via the ABC and we even have a big screen, albeit off to the right.
Finally, the service commences. It is cold, very cold, my legs are freezing so I stand most of the time. My body gets cold too in spite of two icebreakers, windproof jacket and Gortex raincoat.
I remember I have a down jacket back at the hotel-too late.
The Service is very moving, especially when the High School students read out the names of about 20 Australian's who were killed, their age, occupations and their next of kin.
The Ambassador Designate to France Ric Wells speaks well, both in English nad French. Even the Minister for Veteran's Affairs Warren Snowdon is articulate, though just slightly too long.
The last post is truly magnificent from the Memorial Tower, as is the reveille following the minutes silence.
The service finishes and we all, the 5000 of scramble for the buses, which arrive in orderly fashion.
It's then off to V-B for breakfast and the service there. Breakfast is coffee and croissants. The service is very similar to the Dawn Service, with lots of wreath laying, however this time a French Honour Guard and the French version of the last post.
It's then on to Bullecort and its memorial service and a march to the "Digger Memorial"
On the way to Bullecort some of us nod off, it has  been an early morning. Walter nods off, yet as we get into Bullecort he has assumed a very odd posture, gone very pale and stopped breathing. Oh FUCK!!
There is no room in the bus, we are on the move, I can't lie him down however I do mange to adjust his head and neck and he starts breathing but not responding. Pale sweaty and unresponsive.
Our driver manages to get an official to call the local First Aid people who arrive.
By this time he is awake, though hardly alert and very confused. His oxygen Sats are 97% so that's a good sign, though his blood pressure is rather low. He comes too as the female first aider is removing some of his clothes
Dealing with French Fist Aiders is odd to say the least. A doctor from Amiens Emergency gets on the phone and has a chat to Walter who by this time is much better.
It is decided that with his diarrhoea yesterday, no tea last night, very little breakfast, getting cold, he probably just dropped both blood pressure and blood sugar levels and maybe was a bit hypothermic.
We take him to the Mayor's office where he sits in the warmth with a couple of cups of coffee.
By this time the weather has lost the plot and it is raining quite heavily. We are happy to be out of the rain.
This is enough drama for one day, so after a lunch in the bus, which Walter enjoys heartily, it's back to Amiens, where he quite sensible takes to his bed and falls asleep.

With some of the others I take a walk around Amiens, past Notre Dame again and down to the Somme River and through some  of the old parts of the town.
Now quite weary, I head back to the hotel to get all this done and check on Walter. He is sleeping AND breathing.
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D-day 20 Pozieres

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D-day 19 Villers Bretonneux

Fooled once again with clear sky and sunny morning, I'm a sucker for that good start to the day.
Breakfast out of the way, Skype with Sue, and then we're off.
First appointment of the day is with a Baron, The Red Baron. Well at least the place he was shot down at Moulancourt Ridge. Initially credited to a Canadian Pilot, more recent evidence suggests he was killed by a shot from the ground adding credence to the Australian claim that he was brought down by Australian Antiaircraft fire.
Just along the ridge is the Australian 3rd Division Memorial, bleak and windswept, with very little to commend it. Initially to be at Viler Bretonneux, they were gazumped by the Army deciding that it should be the Australian National Memorial site.
From there to the Australian Corps Memorial near the village of Le Hamel. This site was chosen as it is where the Australians under the command of John Monash undertook a copybook battle, where within 93 minutes all the objectives of the battle were achieved. In addition, it was also the first battle in which infantry, tanks, artillery and aircraft were all used in a coordinated fashion, with obvious great success.
Then another war cemetery, Dernacourt Community Cemetery, from which the suburb of Dernacourt got its name.

By this time the weather had really taken a dislike to all these Australians wandering around and blew and rained, so we retreated for lunch to The Poppy, a restaurant whose symbol is obvious. Here we were treated to a three course meal, with cheese and coffee. Like any of us needed that! A long lunch it was too!
From there to Villers Bretonneux (V-B) where we visited the Victoria School, which has developed its own museum to commemorate the relief of V-B by Australians. What a cracker of a museum it is too. Excellent information, in French and English, some great photos, and a very good film, at which Walter, my room mate decided he would have a fall. Luckily no damage done other than to his pride!!
Then in the rain and wind to the V-B Memorial proper, in the process of being set up for the dawn service.
Luckily the tower was open, though they were stringing lights and TV cameras throughout the structure.
The view is stunning, right across the territory of the Australian counter attack, that took place on 25th April 1918
It was at this point my second camera battery threw in the towel. No problem, I have a fully charged spare. Replace the flat one and the new is totally flat too. Oh bugger. I now have no batteries for my camera until I get the charger in Paris (Sue is sending it over). Just have to use my iPhone then.
Another open and windswept site. None of the charm of the Canadian Memorial, rather plain tower.
It of course lists 17,000 Australians with no known grave who lost their life in France. Like the Menin Gate is for those who died in Belgium.
The numbers are just too large to imagine really.
We counted seating laid out for 3600, with some spare.
The forecast is for rain and wind. Just great.
Then back to Amiens and the weather started to clear such that on arrival at our hotel we have sunshine.
Off to the local Pakistani restaurant for an Indian meal. Boy to they do a mild beef vindaloo, and I mean mild. Pity that.
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D-day 18 Fromelle, Bullecort and Amiens

Great start to the day with fine blue skies. Oh how easily we can be fooled.
Set off leaving Iepers for the last time heading for Amiens.
VC Corner Cemetry where there are no Australian VC winners, however where nearly 2000 Australian lost the lives in yet another fruitless attack.
Just beside this Cemetery was the Cobbers Memorial. Sgt Simon Fraser was carrying woundded soldiers back to the Australian lines and as he carried one out he heard "Don't forget me cobber" which lead to the sculpture. He was promoted, however was subsequently killed in action.
On our way we stopped at Fromelle to see the newest Commonwealth War Graves Cemetery. A mass grave was found outside Fromelle at Pheasant Wood after some research by an Australian from Melbourne, as I recall.
Over 200 bodies were found and a great number identified. The local community at Fromelle donated land so the bodies could be buried in a proper cemetery, and thus the newest War Cemetery was established in 2008.
It was then onto the battlefields of the Somme, stopping at the truly majestic Canadian Memorial at Vimy Ridge.
The site overlooks the battlefield and it is easy to see just how strategic the ridge would be. Much of this area of northern France is undulating country. Not Vimy Ridge, which is quite an imposing ridge, easy to defend, hard to attack and hold, which the Canadians did.

At Vimy Ridge we have a packed lunch, very nice salad or a filed baguette, albeit in the bus due the to pouring rain which threatened our day.
Then on to Bullecourt where the Australians fought two battles, one for no gained ground, yet heavy loss of life, and the second in which they gained their objectives, but of course with great loss of life.
There are two memorials, The Slouch Hat memorial in the town, and the Digger Memorial just out of town, featuring a greater than life-sized statue of a digger in dull battle kit.
Over 10,000 Australians killed or wounded in the two battles.
It was then on to Amiens, our accommodation for the next 4 nights and a funny hotel called the Carlton
A early evening walk around the town takes us to the Notre Dame Cathedral, one of the largest "Classic" Gothic Churches of the 13th Century. It is massive, impressive and hard to believe just how they built it. The detail is simply stunning, and I don't like churches and cathedral. Oh for a better zoom lens to capture the intricacies of the stonework.
Dinner at the hotel was interesting, the first time we have all had dinner together with the driver.
Luckily, Luke, the driver, speaks French, or goodness knows what we would have got ie I ordered Fillet mignon (off the menu). I asked for it to be medium rare, to find out that in Norther France, at least, this is a cut of pork!!! It was good in any case, but rather unexpected.
Some of the group work on the principal that they'll understand better if you speak more loudly! Works for me, but then I do speak English.
Any way we got a good meal, and some rather good vin rouge, at last.
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D-day 17 Passchendaele

Another fine day that dawns with sun, then turns to shit, rain, wind and COLD.
Fine enough to walk the ramparts of the city that protected Iepers in mediaeval timed. It was into the rampart walls that the Australians dug holes to protect themselves from bombardment.
A late start again, then off to Hooge Crater Cemetery where we could see the lines of advance of the Australians and NZ troops to capture the Menin Road in1917.
The next visit is to the 5th Division Meorial at Polygon Wood, a wood they captured as part of the first battle for Ypres.
As a result of the action the 5th Division chose this site for their memorial.
Then off to Passchendaele where we looked over a museum, that hekd a fine collection of war memorabilia and a very impressing dugout experience. The museam have tried to reproduce a series of dugouts that had been built under the church at Passchendaele.

The dugouts covered the command post, sleeping quarters, medical treatment station and other aspects of wartime life below the surface.
It's then lunch, Soup, chicken with pomme frites followed by Belgium icecream and cream. Egads-soup for tea.
We then head off to the largest Commonwealth cemetery in the world Tyne Cot, which holds the remains of over 12,000 men from all the Commonwealth countries. Less than 4,000 are identified. This appears the rule in most of the war cemeteries. They have many more unidentified than identified.
The king visited the site in about 1922 and suggested that every grave should have a rose bush, however The Imperial War Graves Commission thought that would be too expensive, however decided a rose bush every three graves would be suitable. They are planted such that, when in bloom, the shadow cast over the day will fall at some time on all three graves. This is repeated in all Commonwealth War Cemeteries.
The weather had turned bad at this point so a flying visit to a German Cemetery, interesting all black granite, rather than the white of the Commonwealth War Graves.
They day ended rather mundanely with a trip to the laundry to deal with the accumulation of clothes requiring fumigation.
The Menin Gate Last Post had a very high RAAF contingent including an Air Vice Marshall.
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D-day 16 Ypres Salient

Belgium seems to start every day dull, cold and windy. Today was no exception. We had a relatively late start, however I decided to get out early to get some pictures in the morning light. I should have saved myself the early start. The light was crap
Today we were to explore the Ypres salient, a tongue of Allied territory that stuck out into the German lines and the battles in 1917 to try and straighten the line ie bring the teriitory either side of that tongue, held by the Germans, into line with the tip.
The tip of the tongue was the city of Ypres.
Why this area, well it was the area the Anzac forces worked together to attack and achieve their objectives.
Firstly though, we walked over some German entrenchments that have been excavated and then reproduced, to get an idea of what the Australian forces were facing, at Bayernwald.

It was then on to Messines Ridge the place of the Australian assault that successfully took the ridge in early July 1917. It was here that my great uncle was killed, either by machine gun fire or a sniper, independent reports differ, and died instantly with a shot through the head.
The ridge in our terms is really just an undulation, however pushing up it laden with a gun, ammunition, hand grenades and other gear, over barbed wire and shell holes etc would have been pretty hard.
On the left of the Australians were the NZers who had a steeper part of the ridge to attack. The NZers have a memorial there overlooking the slope up which they attacked.
Our visit was heralded by rain and thunder.
Both units achieved their objectives.
The attack was heralded by the detonating of a number of mines under the German Line of which Hill 60 is perhaps the most famous.
It was then time to head back to Iepers, for a short town walk.
Like many of the Western Front towns Iepers is very old and looks it, yet all the building have been rebuilt post WW1 as close as possible to original. They have done an impressive job.
The 8.00PM Last Post ceremony lacks the band or choir, however we get in there place The Minister for Veterans Affairs, Brendon Nelson, Ambassador for somewhere and Bob Such, South Australian politician. Not a fair swap. Looks like we will get them at Villers Bretonneux.
Believe me the hole is very large, with many shell holes scattered around.
My companions are Walter, my room mate , an 83 year old ex 40 year army man, who lives a little in the past. He is quite deaf, yet very fit.
There is Steve the historian, from the UK, who is very knowledgeable, however lacks a little in presentation. He is better one on one, rather than on the buses PA.
Ian and Marcia are from Broken Hill, now in death alley at Victor Harbor. They have travelled a lot, mostly so Ian can play golf.
Paula and Brian are from Albury. He was a high school principal and she was a physio, I think. They also seem to have travelled a lot. She collects artillery shell cases.
Jacqui and Dallas, the youngsters are from Melbourne. Dallas is in the army with the artillery. Not sure what Jacqui does. They have no children.
Finally there is Alan and Neil, friends, whose wives know each other. Alan is a mental health nurse, involved in care of the disabled. Neil was an ambo, not sure what he does now.
They seem to have settled down a bit and seem to have stopped their initial right wing posturing.
Picasa album pictures

D-day 15 Waterloo and Iepers (Ypres)

The day dawned dry, cold and windy.
Walter and I decided to set off for a walk around Brussels prior to our departure at 10.00AM
What I really wanted to do was to find an old favourite of mine, Mannequin Pis, which we duly found still peeing.
My god that boy has a good stream!
It was then on the bus and out to Waterloo battlefield to see what happened where.
There has been build the Butte du Lion a large pyramidal monument, with a lion mounted at its summit. This overlooks the battlefield in it's entirety. It is surprisingly small area, only 5 x 3 km.
A very well done documentary explaining events of the day helped sort out the various manoeuvres that occurred and how the day unfolded.
How the French cannon were delayed in getting into position by the mud, how Wellington hid his central forces and how they emerged from the French cannon bombardment essentially unscathed and how the Prussians under Marshall Blucher arrived late in the day to finish the French off.
Then a tour around the battlefield in a poorly sprung bus/truck thing over very uneven farm roads finished the Waterloo part off.


It was then off to Iepers or better known to Autralians as Ypres which is the site of the Menin Gate, the memorial to all those allied soldiers killed in the war, with no known grave. My great uncle is there somewhere.
Each night at 8.00PM since 1928 (except for the years of German occupation) the local fire brigade buglers have sounded the last post/\.
So having found our rooms at the hotel,  just off the Ieper main square, and having had tea we headed off for the nightly ceremony.
Walter thought he wouldn't go tonight, until I said I was going, so out came his medals, which I duly pinned to his chest-he has about 10 all up-40 years army service.
The road is jammed with people. At our hotel there are seven school groups from Australia.
Tonight a school band from Perth played, followed by the last post, two minutes silence, then hymns sung by another school group accompanied by the band, then reveille.



All up, a very moving ceremony, with the crowd in almost complete (oxymoron) silence the entire time.
After, I head off to try and find my Great uncle, and there his name is, etched in the marble under the 37th Battalion.

Day 14 Brussels

Walter didn't snore and for a man just traveled over 8 time zones he slept very well, as did I.
His baggage failed to arrive overnight, and enquiries revealed it was on holiday in London for the day, however would be back by this afternoon.
Thus we decided to find our way to a Tourist Info office and do one of the Hop on Hop tours-sounds repetitive doesn't it.
Walked through a very lovely part of Brussels, The Grand Market, with beautiful old buildings, in the sprinkling rain, repetitive isn't it.
The Hop on Hop off proved a bit disappointing as the audio didn't work to start with.
Once sorted looks like a lovely city, lots of old buildings, palaces, fine old churches and some new stuff that looks pretty good, none of which I caught in pixels, raining and the bus windows aren't the best lens.



Decided that the Museum of Military History was appropriate, so hopped off there and spent a couple of hours looking through the military history of Belgium, albeit, trying to translate the French as there were few English subtitles.
When we emerged it was raining and blowing too much to test my umbrella, you will recall the one I bought brand new in Munich that blew a rib on first opening!!
Got our way back to the hotel without any navigation traumas to find that Walter's luggage had returned from its vacation.
Tonight we meet the rest of the group and then hear what the plans are for tomorrow.
I may run out of internet time by then so may publish this early today and bring you up to speed in the next chapter.

Pictures in Picasa

D-day 13 Munich to Brussels via Frankfurt

Got up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head!! Hey there’s a song in there! Pity about the hair though!
It time to leave Bavaria and the sunshine gods have decided to appear as I leave the YHA.
I have a late start as I have a late train.
This means I can Skype with Sue and catch up on the Adelaide news. There ain’t much.
Even with a late start I have over 90 minutes wait for my train, the ICE 720.
I now know Munich Hauptbahnhof pretty well so get the right platform, right train and even the right direction seat and right on time we’re off.
I am typing this at the snail-pace of 158kph as we negotiate the German Plains.
Things finally improve and we do get up to 294 kph (see video).

We then just rattle along, losing time all the way, each station we are just a few minutes late and seem unable to catch up.

Pictures in Picasa
This makes me a little anxious, as I have only 10 minutes to get my connection at Frankfurt and my ticket indicates I have to get from Platform 8 to 18.
There’s a bit of jockeying to be first off. The Germans certainly don’t know about queuing, but they do know about pushing in. Mmmm I know someone like that!!
Any way the train is well marked as are all the trains here and carriage 28 is second from the back, so second carriage along the platform, rather than at the far end of the train.
I board, find my seat and find someone getting into it!! In my best German I say “Das is mien seat” which I think translates as “That’s my ass”. Anyway, he gets the message and moves one back.
And were off.
Then it's really more of the same, with the sky getting greyer and greyer as we got closer to Brussels with steady rain to greet our arrival.
I must find railway stations confusing, as it took a couple of attempts to find where the taxis congregated.
An affable middle eastern gentleman got me too my hotel, and an equally affable Belgian got me too my room, where I met Walter Riley, my room-mate for the first time.
Walter is 83, 40 years army and in a bit of a bother. His baggage has gone missing and they are still lokking for it.
He has some clothes and the expectation is that they'll turn up tomorrow.
We head off for dinner, he is quite chirpy considering his age and that he's been on the move now for two days.

D-day 12 Obersalzburg, Berchtesgaden

Early start as I have to be in the city by 8.15AM
Raining still.
Have breakfast, make roll and head out with new umbrella.
My previous one, bought in Quebec 2 years ago gave up the ghost at Dachau, so I bought a new one at the main railway station in Black Watch Tartan. First opening, it broke!! I was only 100 metres from the shop, but I had thrown the receipt in the bin, and I didn't fancy delving into a railway station bin.
So new umbrella with one broken rib.
Right train, have coffee at railway station as I'm so early.
Discovered best way to get a good coffee is to have a double espresso and add milk.
I join the others heading out to Chiemsee and Berchtesgaden and get on the bus. Very luxurious.
The drive takes a couple of hours and on the way we drop off those going to the palace at Chiemsee (a lake).
Our guide, Gunther, then declares us the Happy Ones. He's quite funny and explains that by decree beer in Bavaria has to be made of three ingredients, malt, water and hope. I'm sure what he's saying is hops, but the former sounds better.
The bus climbs the Alpine Way that would take you to Austria if you stayed on it. Not that narrow, yet huge drop offs to the sides and intriguing speed signs that seem to indicate the speed limit for trucks and tanks.
The weather is so bad my attempts at photography through the bus window are pretty awful. The countryside is nevertheless quite beautiful.
We finally arrive at Berchtesgaden, the mountain village near Hitler's alternative seat of power, Obersalzburg.


The Obersalzburg is a small village not far from Berchtesgaden, where Hitler had driven out the former owners and built a large village including his house, the Berghof. Most of his cronies had home here too, plus a large body guard contingent.
The appeal of this particular tour was the Eagles Nest, the house built for Hitler's 50th birthday much higher up the mountain, the one you see in documentaries of Hitler meeting foreign dignitaries.
The access road is closed due to the snow-bugger.

What I didn't get to see!!

There is the Documentation Centre there which covers all aspects of the Nazi period, rather than focussing on just one.
It also allows access to the VAST bunker system that was built under the Obersalzburg village
The major fproblem was the lack of English translation for the documentation, though in fairness there was an audio version, though we didn't have enough time to use that.
It was the back to Berchtesgaden to the Salzberg Saltmines, where we had a great tour of the salt workings.
It started with us getting into ridiculous overalls, hopping on a train, that took us deep into the mountain. We then jumped off the train, has a small lecture about the working and then had to all slide down a long slippery dip to the next level. What a buzz!
Then more walking, listening to audio and watching laser shows, then another slippery dip ride to another lower level.
We are then led out to a large saltwater lake about 100 metres acrosswith crystal clear water about 6 metres deep.  small wooden barge takes us across the late to a funicular railway that takes us back to the train.
What a great exhibit, and you're not allowed to take pictures!!
It was then a rather long ride back to Munich, stopping along the way to pick up the Chiemsee mob.
The weather got worse with rain right up to the city, when it stopped.
Back to the YHA by about 7.45PM, just in front of about 40 students from Switzerland.
I'm buggered.
Tomorrow I bug out and head to Belgium via Frankfurt.