Trip Statistics

All the importantly pointless information, at your fingertips:

Number of Countries visited: 16
Largest: Russia (17,075,400 km²)
Smallest: Andorra (468 km²)

Longest Train Trip: 78 hours (Irkutsk to Moscow, 5153km)

Weight of pack on departure: 12.5 kg
Weight of pack on return: 14.5 kg
Weight gain by Lauren on holiday: 4kg
% of weight gain attributable to cheese: 35 - 50%

Number of books read: 26

Fastest Land speed: 346 km/h (bullet train Tianjin to Beijing)
Highest Land Altitude: approx. 2000 m (Andorra)

Number of Languages in which I learnt to say 'thank you': 10
Number of Languages in which I learnt to say more than just 'thank you': 2

Home

And so, like all adventures, this one has come to an end.

I am back home, about to start the same job, as though nothing has happened in the last four months and I somehow just slept through spring. I certainly don't begrudge coming home, nor does my bank balance. One of the most important things you can have while travelling is a home worth coming back to, otherwise it's just too depressing passing through the arrivals gate.

It's been a great trip, catching up with many awesome people I don't keep in touch with nearly enough. I also got to do many things I would never do at home; I spent three days straight on a train, rode a bike without a helmet, got around to reading Dickens and got myself into a gallery, or two. I drank Bordeaux red in Bordeaux, ate Cheddar Cheese in Cheddar and Danced to Architecture in Helsinki amid the Architecture of Helsinki.

So now it's time to roll the credits. Hair and makeup done by no one, film and camera work done by team Gawne, catering by the many along the way. Thank you to all of you who lent me your spare beds, couches, floors, who showed us your fabulous cities, who helped me get found when I was lost, who fed and watered me, who put up with me and who were foolish enough to read this blog.

Now that I've unpacked I can start planning the next trip.

Kyoto - not just Tokyo for the dyslexic

The third and final city that we visited in Japan was the charming former capital of Japan; Kyoto. There are many things about this city I like, it's gridded street layout, the way it's nestled into mountains on all sides so that every long straight street you look down terminates in a wall of green, the way the traffic crossings near the station play little melodies as you cross - but as I've decided to limit highlights to three, I've selected these:

1. Temples
Kyoto is full of Budhist temples and Shinto shrines, many are in the city centre, but they are also liberally scattered around the hillside fringe of the city, set in beautiful gardens. One day Dave and I hired bikes and made it to about a dozen temples at five or six different sites. The ones in this hills have great views over the city.

2. Shopping
Kyoto is also packed full of shopping, souviniers and fashion are equally represented. In the center of the city there are long straight covered streets like Shinkyogoku-dori that are very popular. But some of the best shopping for travel trinkets can be done on the streets leading up to the temples. Coming from a christian background it seems a very strage combination of retail and religion, but it works quite well.

3. Trees
For those of you that have read this blog often (yes, all two of you) you would have probably noticed I generally don't wax poetical about nature very often. But it must be said that the bright reds of the Maple trees in Autumn in Japan is breath taking. I feel that this is possibly not really of the category of 'nature' as Japanese gardens tend to be quite well manicured and groomed. Still, the gardens in the temple grounds were beautiful and very soothing... if it wasn't for the crushing hords of fellow tourists.

Gotemba

After a few jet lagged days in Tokyo we traded the bright lights and crowds for some time in Gotemba.

Where?

Gotemba. It's the small city somewhere between Tokyo and Kyoto that Dave calls home. It could be said that it doesn't have a lot going for it as a tourist town, except for the fact that it's situated on the side of a giant inactive volcano. So, three cool things about Gotemba:

1. Fuji

Step out at the station, there's fuji. Look outside Dave's door, oh, it's Fuji. Driving to the supermarket, it's there. Wonder why there's a slight slope uphill? Oh, you're actually on Mt Fuju. This is endlessly amusing.

2. School

We went to visit the school where Dave works as an English Aid. The children were highly amused to see a giant blonde woman. One girl was so embarassed to meet me she fell over. Another asked if I was Dave's mum... hmmmm. We played Dodgeball at luchtime, as which I did very bad. I just couldn't bring myself to throw a ball as hard as possible at a pack of small children. But they seemed more relaxed about school safety - they had 3 meter high monkey bars, and kids were playing on unicycles and stilts.

3. Onsen

Athough it was sunny while we were in Gotemba, it was also rather chilly. And what better way to warm up than a trip to a traditional Japanese hot bath.

Possibly the most relaxing hour I've spent on the whole trip, sitting in the 40 degree water, thinking of nothing. Especially nice was the outdoor pool, where you could just kick back and admire the view. Of what? Fuji, of course.

Tokyo

To prevent excessive rambling I'm just going to give my top three favourite things about each city that I visited in Japan. City number one, that sprawling metropolis, the capital of Japan; Tokyo.

1. The Weather

It was t-shirt weather for the two days that we were there. Compared to the relentless rain that struck on the day I was passing though to go home, we were very very lucky. There was sunshine and, most unusual for Tokyo, clear skies. It was so clear in fact, that you could see Fuji from the top of panoramic buildings. Even from 100 km away it looked huge.

2. Sukiji Fish Markets

If you told me that waking up at four thirty in the morning to watch people haul fish around would be one of the most fascinating things to do in Tokyo I would never have believed you. I'm a vegetarian for goodness sake, and even when I wasn't I didn't really eat fish.

But there I was on a crisp, clear morning, at a market the size of Vic Markets (ie BIG) dedicated to supplying the fishy needs of over 8 million people. It was a life and death experience walking through the mini carts used to haul the fish around, but we somehow made it to the auction hall alive. Unlike the fish.

We watched the buyers examine the fish, poking and prodding and chatting. The auction itself was all over very quickly - most fish sold for around 1000 AUD and above. Then they were lugged off to be cut up and sold on to retailers and restaurants.

3. Jet Lag

I always find jet lag amusing - it's like being drunk without all the bother of drinking! Walking around Tokyo in a daze just added to the ambience. It was almost like being in Lost in Translation - but the hotel wasn't as flash and Dave makes a really unconvincing Scarlet Johansson.

Jetlag in Japan

So it's been a whole week packed full of adventure and I haven't writen. Now I'm in an internet cafe at Tokyo airport and really can't put seven days of fun into one pithy post. Instead over the next week or so I'll post about my adventures, which will have the added benefit of delaying the inevidable self absorbed meta ramblings of the recently returned traveller.

but now, to the duty free store!!

A Tale of Two Hostels： London

According to some　website (the best place to get creditble inforation) The Radisson Edwardian in Heathrow has been voted the best airport hotel by some pack of snobs at some　point in time. I would have to concur- but as the premiere classe hotel is the only other I've stayed in that's probably not a large enough sample for such awards to be handed out.

So I had a lovely bed, a TV with lots of different stations, in more languages that just French, which had a personalised greeting message on the screen when I arrived. There was a bath, a desk AND a small table (so many places to sit!) and amusing things like a minibar, personal safe and steam press.

I had a burger for dinner and a glass of wine at the bistro, and another drink in the lounge bar afterwards, all of which cost me more than my average weekly food budget...

All in all it was a lovely experience, but considering it was about 3-5 times the amout I normally pay for accomodation,I don't think it's a lifestyle habit I'll be adopting any time soon.

A Tale of Two Hotels: Part One, Toulouse

Last night I stayed in the Premiere Classe Hotel near Toulouse airport. It was a two star affair, which had an ambiance somewhere between a cheep motel and a low security prison.

the check in was facilitated by a machine like a cashpoint. Each room had a double bed and a bunk cramed in, a TV without cable (unthinkable in Europe!) and a bathroom built like on in a caravan, where you shower right over the toilet.

Dinner was at Mc Donalds, and the morning wakeup call was an alarm set on the television.

There was a strip of fluro lighting to iluminate the room, and they're very thoughtfully put metal shutters on the windows to keep out the light and the prying eyes of other guests using the walkway.

And the bedspread was quite ugly.

Andorable

The other day my family (including my brother and his friend, who have dropped by to visit for a few days) took a couple of cars up to Andora for a day trip.

Andora is a small independent principality snuggled in the Pyrenees between France and Spain. It is very remarkable for a couple of reasons.

1. There was snow

Which was of great amusement to us all. There was a good covering on the slopes, and there was lots of snowball throwing action. My brother also decided that 3 degrees celsius was the perfect temperature to walk around bare chested. He was lucky that no one tried to capture him and claim him as the Andoran Yeti.

2. Cheep cheep liquor

Andora is a tax haven, and they don't have any duty on their alcohol. This means that it is basically a giant airport duty free lounge for their neighbours in Spain and France. The streets in the two or three main towns were brim full of electronics boutiques, perfumeries, jewellers, tobacconists and supermarkets selling alcohol, chocolate, confectionary and cheese.

The alcohol wasn't just cheep, it was astonishingly cheep; 10 Euro (~ 20 AUD) for a liter of Absolute flavored vodka, and around 8 Euro for a liter of your standard bourbons.

The down side of this is that the French will try and charge you duty on whatever you take out of the country, and will do thorough searches on random vehicles as your re-enter their country. They also have search posts about an hour down the mountains, just in case you think you got away.

So while all of this was of great amusement, the windy roads up the mountains to get there left me with the worst car sickness I ever had. Perhaps I should have partaken in the affordable booze for medicinal purposes...

Good and Bad

As though the route that I had to take from Brussels to get back to the south of France wasn't bad enough - the train that I was on from Lyon to Toulouse was over crowded, so I sat in the large luggage rack. Then, 20 minutes into the journey, our train was involved in an accident, and so we were stuck o the tracks for two hours. Luckily it wasn't a Russian train, so we could still use the toilet while we were stopped.

But after all the drama and mayhem, I have made it back to the same little pocket of France where I was a few weeks ago. It's another anonymous little town, but this one has a better bakery. The weather is quite mild, and the vines that were lovely and green last time are now a riot of reds, browns, yellows, purples and browns.

Also, my parents have been very busy in my absence - they've decided to buy a house in this sleepy little village. A great big old place full of dust and peeling wall paper and lovely furniture. So although I'm only here for a week now, I feel that I'll be spending much more time in this area in the years to come.

Pick-up Line Fail

In a souvenir shop, Brussels.

Shopkeeper: So, are you looking for something special
me: er, no, not really.
Shopkeeper: ah, so maybe you are looking for me.

I'm not sure whether he has too much self confidence, or not enough, after that remark.

So French...

The thing about the French (and possibly every other culture more or less) is that everone loves the good cultural experiences, like red wine, 35 hour working weeks, brilliant baked goods, a wonderful modern art tradition, Amelie, etc. But you never really get a feel for a country until you experience the shittier side of their outlook on life.

Point in case: Strikes.

The whole of France is having a 3 day train strike. So instead of visiting Luxemburg as intended, and then returning to see the folks in the South of France, I have to take a long, complicated, over crowded (and expensive) train ride down to Toulouse.

Still, Luxemburg should be there for a while yet, and there's always next time.

As for the city I am currently in; Brussels is dirty, ugly and smelly. It has a couple of nice buildings, the undersized and overhyped peeing boy statue, and the best flea market I have ever visited. It was in a good sized market square and had everything, from clothes to trinkets to furniture. Brussels also has lots of chocolate shops, good waffles and amazing fries. They also have lots of great beer. You can get a Chimay at the supermarket for about AUD 1.50m and last night we went to a bar with over 2500 beers, the list was about 5cm thick. I don't think my backpack is going to come home too much heavier, but I certainly will at this rate. So it's all balanced out into quite a good time here.

So yes, on to France tomorrow, and a quite week of lounging around, eating less deep fried and chocolate things and spending some time with the family before they head off to Canada for the Christmas season and I begin to make my way home via a week in Japan. The end of the adventure is in sight.

Max Planck

I did mention earlier that in the middle of all the Benelux chocolate, beer, cute buildings, very green country-side and chips, that I was planning a nerdy detour. And so now I find myself at the Max Planck Institute for Psycholinguistics in Nijmagen, West Netherlands.

This is one of the coolest places in linguistics in the last ten years (within a very specific, academic definition of cool). My former supervisor has been here doing research work and very kindly arranged a visit.

It has been amazing to see such a high caliber institute. The facilities are second to none, and the people are incredibly enthusiastic, passionate and very very smart. The downside as been that I haven't really used my brain in an academic capacity, or followed much linguistics for the last 12 months - but I have perfected my ability to smile and nod as though I understand what people are talking about.

This afternoon I'm off to Brussels so I'll be able to slide back into the less brain-stretching holiday mode that I've been in for a while now, and return to my usual hobbies of looking at old buildings and eating.

'Dam fine town

As an Australian, the next statemnt will probably sound like a heresy, and I'm not sure whether they'll let me back into the country after I've said it, but it does need to be said. The Dutch do some of the best hot chips ever.

I can't decide whether it's because they serve them in a cone, whether they often slightly over cook them to crispyness the way I like it, or the fact that they have somthing called fritsause to smother them with (the sause basically being a tasty version of mayonase).

I am currently debating whether I can buy chips as a breakfast food, even though I'm not hungover. It just doesn't seem right somehow...

Also, because almost all my posts invariably end up about food, I should also try to let you know about other things too. I really love Amsterdam for its cosy size, beautful canals and greenery, and the museums. It is possible to aviod the dweebs who come here for their weekends of debauchery if you stay out of the inner area near the station, well, not entirely possible - but Amsterdam is all about a 'look the other way' permissiveness.

London Town

London has been turning on all her charm for Claire and I - and by charm, I mean rain - but that has not stopped us having a lovely weekend. Having both visited here before, and therefore being free of the imperative of sightseeing, we have taken a more leisurely itinerary.

We spent a morning at Camden markets, an afternoon trawling the second-hand book dealers along Charing Cross Road, and managed a visit to Brick Lane for curry, Harrods for tea (actually, chocolate milkshakes, but they were divine) and a late-night jaunt to my favourite bagel shop, which I was very happy to find has not changed a jot in the last five years (including the prices...).

Apart from all of the pleasantness above, we were also treated to a special wake up at our hostel this morning from London's finest. Someone had apparently reported a 'woman in distress' in the hostel and the police decided to door knock each room at seven in the morning in an attempt to find said woman. It was almost like being in The Bill (but without the explosions and workplace sexual tension).

Tonight Claire is heading off to Oxford, and I'm catching an overnight ferry to The Netherlands for the start of my Benelux week (Benelux being Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxembourg). There'll be plenty of sightseeing, plus a special nerd excursion on Tuesday. So expect a week of postings on chocolate, hot chips, beer and... psycholinguistics!

England (the telly, the weather, the cake...)

These three thngs are really of great importance while in England. most of my time over here is generally spent visiting family, which means we get a lot of chance to watch the local TV content, discuss the weather and eat cake. Thus I will tell you all about these things, as they are at the forefront of my activities.

TV

There is a new quiz show called Golden Balls. No, really, there is. And people are given these golden balls with cash values written inside and have to try and vote each other off, and then the balls all go in this big tumbler. it's hilarious, ridiculous, and every time the host says the name of the show I almost wet myself. Nut then what do you expect from a country that still has Millionaire and Weakest Link on air?

Also, in TV news, the British Telly Awards were on last night. In his acceptance speech for best actor in a drama, David Tennent said that he WON'T be returning as the doctor after the 4 2009 specials. There has been much weeping and gnashing of teeth.

WEATHER

Really, the only thing worth mentioning here is that it snowed while we were in Eastbourne yesterday. Actual big fat snowflakes. Unfortunately it was too warm for it to settle, but it looked magic.

CAKE

This is only here because Claire and I had morning tea by the fire side in these lovely little tea rooms. I really like tea rooms. I think Melbourne really has too many cafes and should really have more tea shops, with cakes, and scones and nice china, and with a fireplace.

Tomorrow Claire and i are off to London to terrify the good citizens of that fair town.

What's up, Doc (Martin)

In revenge for dragging them into a library, yesterday, my parents folded all five members of our not-too-short family into a Ford Fiesta for a two hours drive into Cornwall. More specifically, we went to Port Issac, where the show 'Doc Martin' is filmed.

Although I think the eponymous doctor is a bit of a twat, I have to give him credit for settling in such a lovely little town. We strolled around, ate Cornish pasties and drank Corninsh ale, and then folded ourselves back into the car for the drive home.

My legs were sore from the folding and the walking, and my stomach sore from the pasty, but it was a fun excursion none the less.

The Exeter Book

While the trip down to Exeter was made with the intention of the family reuniting (and, apparently, sampling a range of ales in a range of pubs) I couldn't resist fitting in a bit of nerd tourism around our busy pub schedule.

Thus, my family found themselves crowded into the small and homely Exeter Cathedral Library, where can be found one of the most fascinating and priceless books of the English Language.

It is unsurprisingly, but somewhat unoriginally, named the Exeter Book - and has the finest collection of Old English verse, poems and riddles in existence. It was all written around 950 AD and only managed to survive because it was shown such little regard for about 500 years that no one got around to throwing it out.

Having studied Old English at uni, it was pretty exciting to come face to folio with a book full of Old English that I'd read in class. And unlike most other priceless manuscripts (da Vinci folios, Bodleian books, The Lindisfarne gospel, etc) it was very easily assessable. And the staff were excessively friendly, enthusiastic and knowledgeable.

So between that, and my growing fondness for the local ciders, Exeter has been good fun so far.

Reunion!

For the first time in about 8 months, all five members of my family were in the same room at the same time. We're down in Exeter visiting my little brother, who is working here for a while.

As my brother is our tour guide all we've seen so far is the cathedral (from the outside) and quite a few pubs. Nice pubs too.

Today my brother is at work, so we're going to do some less alcohol oriented tourism. As we're in the shire of Devon I think we'll have to stop at some point for Devonshire tea. Perhaps more than once...

Moral Dilemma

Let me just say for the record that, on the whole, I'm a very contented vegetarian.

I don't feel socially outcast at a barbecue, I don't feel culinarily deprived around Christmas, I don't even have kebab cravings at 2am on a Saturday morning.

But when my dad was served a giant plate of bigos (which contains no less than 4 different meat products) by the matriarch of my Polish family, I felt a twinge of that ethical dilemma that many vegetarians often face.

Fortunately she had also made a giant serving of lazanki (cabbagey/mushroomy/pasta goodness) and so the anxiety quickly faded.

Homecoming

It's a lovely luxury to be both on holidays and at home simultaneously. For the last few nights I've been staying in Warsaw with the family who tolerated me for half a year when I was fresh out of high school - a short five years ago. I have been constantly entertained by all those things that are so familiar, and all those that have changed.

The family have not changed in their lovely, friendly and entertaining way - although the youngest, who was only 15 when I was here last has grown (It took me a while to comprehend he's actually old enough to drive...). The house is still the same, but the neighbourhood as grown. I went on Friday to visit the school that I taught at where there are still many teachers I remember, but very few students. In the city the Russian Markets have gone (only last month!!) but there's a shiny new shopping mall behind the Central Station. My favourite coffee shop is still there, but my second favourite has gone. My second favourite Milk Bar is still there but my favourite has gone.

It's been fun showing my family around the city - My parents are impressed by how much Warsaw is like any large European city, which has me a bit worried. I now get the impression that I lived for six months in a Soviet back block. I had to break it to them gently that 1989 was quite a long time ago now...

So a couple more days in Poland and then it's off to Old Blighty. So little time, so many pierogi...

Poland

So, I'm having so much fun being back in Poland that I really don't have anything particularly interesting to say on the subject (although it could be said that I never have anything particularly interesting to say about anywhere I've visited).

I've just been spending a lot of time here in Krakow wandering around visiting shops I use to visot (Orsay, Empik, etc) and eating Polish food, and chatting with my Polish relatives. This is not going to bad, largely because of their high tolerance of my complete lack of grammar, and very small vocab.

Today I'm off on a train to my old hometown of Warsaw. I'm sure five years will have seen a lot of changes there, but I'll have to wait another 6 hours til I see.

Best Idea Ever...

... a vegetarian Milk Bar.

Now, first of all, a bit of background.

A milk bar in Poland sells cheap, hearty traditional fare without any frills. "Hearty traditional fare" is normally of the meat variety in this country.

Some awesome person came up with the idea of making all the lovely Polish food I use to enjoy before going veg-side without the use of meat. And and the same low low price one normally pays at a milk bar.

This has just been one excitement among many.

Back in Poland

It's only take me five years, but I'm finally back in my adopted homeland of Poland.

We flew into Wroclaw from Barcelona, and our cousins were waiting at the airport to meet us, which was a surprise. I say cousins, but I actually mean my grandmother's cousin's daughter and family - life gets endlessly complicated when you start to analyse these things too closely, so anyone referred to as cousins while in Poland are usually 2nd and 3rd cousins, removed to varying degrees.

We've been strolling around the lovely old town, and had a good Polish feed for dinner.

It's so good to be in a country where I know more of the language than 'hello', 'thankyou' and 'do you speak English?'. This is not to say that my Polish is anywhere near as sophisticated as that of your average 3 year old, but it is nice to be able to ask questions about the menu, or ask where the toilets are, without resorting to absurd gestures and defeatist English.

We're spending the next 9 days in Poland, which means there's a lot of doughnut eating, beer drinking and catching up with friends and family to do in a very short period of time.

The Planes and Spain

The somewhat crazy itinerary that I am currently following (Swizterland to Malta to Spain to Poland) has arisen because I am joining the dots on a map of Europe between all the family and friends who are unfortunate enough to be cursed with a visit from me.

This 24 hour stop in Barcelona is not to visit family, but simply because spending a day here was the easiest way to get from Malta to Poland. So as to not waste an opportunity, we (I´ve reunited with the parents and Claire once more) have packed as much into our one day as possible. I don´t want to bore you with tales of warm weather, sangria, tapas and the usual (see the Cadaques post for that) - surprising all my highlights from today are technological.

The Metro

Many of the ticket validating gates on the metro are left handed. I´m not sure if they have a large population of lefties, or if it was just a vengeful left hander who designed the machines.

The View at Park Guell

Normally you have to work hard to earn a great view of a city from the surrounding hills - but they solved the problem of hiking up a hill at Park Guell by installing escalators along the middle of the public streets. Brilliant idea.

Giant Vending Machine

At Catalunya metro station is a vending machine that takes up a whole wall and contains no fewer than 180 items. Chocolate milk to cigarettes, sandwiches to sanitary products - all in one massive machine. Japan, home of vending madness has a lot to live up to when I visit - Barcelona has set the bar high.

Nights of Malta (and Days Too!)

All it took was a couple of short flights and I've swapped the Alps for the Mediterranean. Malta is a lovely and fascinating place, for reasons I will now ramble about.

Lovely?

Well, for starters, there is the Mediterranean climate, which means that I'm back to bare legs and sandals, and adding to the tan which has been accumulating sporadically.

What I find most charming about Malta is the buildings. They are, in vast majority, build out of the local stone. It's a soft, warm sandstone which I can't help but compare (despite the cringe it will elicit) to the crisp heart of a Malteser. Houses, government buildings, defensive walls and churches in all styles are build of the same stone, blending in seamlessly with the rocky ground on which they are built. From a distance, across the water, they glow in unity under the sun - but up close they are all different, with brightly coloured shutters and large window boxes.

Fascinating?

Because I am a history freak (I can't really say I'm a history geek, because it's more of a recreational pursuit for me) and this small group of islands is crammed full of history, and history of all different kinds.

Linguistically, it was here that a 'Rosetta stone' style monument was found in the 16th century with Etruscan and Greek, which allowed for the beginning of being able to understand Etruscan script.

Militaristically, it was the sight of the defeat of Suleiman the Great, which was the beginning of the tide turning against the Muslim attacks on Europe in the 16th century.

Artistically, Caravaggio came here after he killed a guy in Rome (as you do), joined a monastic order (as you do) and painted some of his amazing High Baroque masterpieces for them (as you do) which are now on display for all to see (as I did).

Nationally, they have only been independent from England for about 40 years, so English is a national language (along with Maltese), they drive on the left side of the road, and they have lovely red mail boxes everywhere.

It has also been amusing because we have caught up with some cousins, who moved here from Malta, and have a beautiful 10mth old baby who has kept us all entertained. Next stop; Poland - but first a 24 hour stop over in Barcelona! (for those of you who know what Europe looks like, I know that it appears I have gone mental and have let a drunk plan my itinerary, but then maybe I've just had a few too many wines in the last few weeks...)

This Week On Boarder Security...

Lauren, a hapless backpacker from Australia, arrives at the Geneva International Airport to catch a plane to Malta. Lauren checks in, presents her passport and ticket, and has her ticket to Japan to show that she will be leaving Europe (eventually).

Check-in proceeds well, until the end, when Lauren is required by airline policy to show that she has a ticket to depart Malta. Lauren's father has booked her a flight to Spain on an e-ticket for the following Saturday, but Lauren does not have a copy on her, or in her email inbox.

Thanks to the modern wonder of mobile telephony, Lauren contacts her parents, who are already in Malta and asks them to email across the details. Lauren goes to the only internet cafe at the airport, to print it out and is told she needs to present it at the desk by 8:15 am.

The internet cafe does not open until 8 am. As soon as it opens Lauren attempts to access her email account, but due to the crazy French keyboard gmail gets suspicious and won't let her log in. More phone calls, more emails, and finally - at 8:10 -Lauren has her reservation. She rushes back up to the desk.

Will she make it in time?

Well, yes, she did. But it was the most stressful airport experience I've had to date. Many thanks to my parents for emailing across the details, and to Hugh for buying the internet time and preventing me from hyperventilating. The only consolation was that I didn't have that guy from Boarder Security narrating the whole sorry affair.

Fond(ue) of Geneva

I'm currently in Switzerland visiting a friend from England who I met in Poland on my GAP year back in 2003.

My intentions for coming to Switzerland were to eat chocolate, visit the UN and eat fondue.

So far I've visited the UN which consisted of boring building, lots of flags and a giant sculpture of a chair with a broken leg. The flags were cool...

We've also been out for fondue, which was excessively fun, and so completely overwhelmingly cheesy that my clothes actually smelt of cheese the next day in much the same way that cigarette smoke lingers after a night at a club.

So that means that I'm left with the task of finding some good Swiss chocolate today. I'll report back once the mission has been completed.

Things I Didn't Know About Paris

- The Eiffel Tower is brown, not gray.

- The Mona Lisa is not in a room by itself. In fact, it's in a room full of Venetian painting, which is all a it weird.

- Everything is the same price as in Australia, it's just that the price is in Euro, which is worth about twice as much as the dollar. I stopped converting back, and haven't dared to look at my bank balance since.

- There really is a Patisserie on every corner.

- The Bastille Fortress was demolished a very long time ago. Actually, I may have learned this in French history, but forgot. Sorry Sue...

- They have some Metro lines with trains on rubber wheels, it's endlessly fascinating.

- The Notre Dame cathedral is so well restored that it looks like it was built 8 years ago, not 800 years ago.

- That I would have quite as much fun there as I did (A big thankyou to the Kings and Queens and People of Paris for building such an interesting city, collecting so much art and knocking up Versailles too. Also, big thanks to Benoit for dinner, my parents and Claire for a fun night out (in the red light district, no less) and Alex who took the walking tours around the city and Montmartre).

Paris

I hqve left Claire in the charge of the parents and have headed to Paris for a few nights - alone!

I have already purchased a beret and today I`ve got my best party dress on because I`m visiting the Louvre.

I have to go eat a croissant now - life doesn`t get much better than this...

The Supermarket

One of the perverse fascinations I have on holidays is to spend a lot of time in supermarkets. At home, I hate them and generally try and avoid them as much as possible. When I'm in another country however, I love spending time in the supermarket, wandering along every aisle.

I think it has something to do with the fact it's exactly the same principle in every country - rows of food, pay at the end - but the goods available are such a reflection of the country. Whether it's the aisle of olive oil in Italy, the twenty varieties of pierogi in the freezer section in a Poland or the vodka aisle in Mongolia, I always find it disproportionately interesting.

Products that you take for granted at home surprise you by being labelled in another language, or not appearing at all - while things you thought you never needed are for sale.

Anyway, while on a cheese-buying rampage the other day, I came across this square block of brie, and was so amused by the name that I had to take a photo and share it.



If only I always found supermarkets this entertaining...

No Rain In Spain

Despite the fact that a turn in the weather has been predicted since my parents arrived here ten days ago, every day has consistently been clear blue skys, sunny and mid-twenties. And so it was when we took a couple of hours drive across the border to visit Spain - well, more specifically, the small holiday villiage of Cadaques.

Although it was only just across the border, it was a very Spanish town, full of white stucco houses with blue shutters, tiled walls and resraunts and cafes that didn't serve lunch until 2pm. The place was very quite as official tourist season ended a month ago, and what dregs of summery tourism that are left are closing at the end of the month (ie. today).

We (ie the parents, Claire and I) had a lovely day strolling around the villiage, small pockets of beach and the lovely beach roads. We had tapas for lunch, with a jug of sangria- so apart from dancing salsa with an attractive Spanish man, I've basically done everything I wanted to do in Spain in one meal.

After lunch there was more walking, admiring the scenery, and ice cream. On the drive home I was honoured with the privilage of sitting in the front (possilby because of the threats to vomit that I made coming long the windy mountain roads on thw way there), thus I was able to entertain dad with a game I made up called 'That Truck Is From...' . The objective of the game is quite simple - every time you pass a truck on the freeway you say (in your best gameshow voice) 'That Truck Is From... The Netherlands!' There were a lot of trucks from lots of different places heading out of Spain; from Portugal to Turkey, Sweden to Italy, all going about their trucky business as we went about our business and headed home from a fun international day trip.

A Spot of Baking

The loveliest thing about staying in a house, as opposed to the hostels and low low budged hotels that I usually stay in, is the ready access to a functioning, moderately clean kitchen. So yesterday I got a bit baking happy, with various degrees of success.

Item the first: Banana Cake

We had some bananas that were going brown and some almond meal that the last people had left, so we made a flourless banana cake and ate it warm with creme fraiche.

If you noticed on the last post, I currently have access to a digital camera, a computer and snap happy parents. Mum got a photo of the cake so I'll post it later. It looked ugly but tasted delicious.

Item the second: Parma Veggo Style

Again, a product of the dregs of our larder. i fried up thin slices of eggplant, then put cheese and pesto on them and popped the lot in the oven. Super tasty, if I say so myself. We were totally on a roll for the day.

Item the third: Roasted Chestnuts

Mum and I waited for darkness to fall so we could steal some figs from our neighbours tree, seems they were just letting them rot and fall. While out we also picked up a whole heap of chestnuts from the read and thought we'd have a crack at roasting them.

We popped a tray of them in the oven and went back to sitting around. About 20 minutes later there was an Almighty bang, as one of them exploded like a rifle shot in the oven. we opened the oven and another two exploded - disintegrating into shell fragments and white chestnut powder - both to be now found scattered around out lounge area.

We placed the tray of volatile nuts outside and went back to try them later. The best explanation I can give of their taste is that they taste like the odour to be found in large metropolitan subway systems, but a bit more buttery.

So, on the whole that's about a 2/3 success rate for a day of cooking. Today we're off for an excursion to Spain.

Scarf: Complete

After traversing half a dozen countries over 7 time zones, my green scarf that I started in Siberia is now complete!



I knitted the whole thing out on my chopsticks which turned out to be ok knitting needles once I got into the swing of it. It was 30 stitches wide, which isn't too big, but quite hard as the needles taper quickly so I was only working with a very small space. I also have knitted a scarf in an off white natural wool I purchased from a spinner in Finland, that one was only 15 stitches, so it was a quicker job, and I ribbed the ends of it.

The funny thing is, having completed the two projects, the weather here in France is amazing and completely inappropriate for scarves. We're about two hours east of Toulouse, right near the Mediteranian. Every day has been clear blue skys and mid twenties. The evenings are cooler, but seems I don't like red wine when the weather's too hot this is really a perfect arrangement.

Being Frank

This trip is a wonderful mix of the new (China, vising Poland without a visa, expensive shopping adventures, etc.) and the familiar (Sophie in Stockholm, paprika pringles, ol' blighty etc.) - but no part of the adventure has been such a delightful blend of the two than meeting my parents, grandmother, aunt, uncle and cousins in the south of France.

We've taken up residence in a massive, old, lovely house for a week or so, and there's been lots of catching up, chatting, photo sharing and more chatting over breakfast this morning.

It's almost lunchtime, and time for Claire and I to take a walk to get acquainted with le neighbourhood. We're off with the parentals to visit some family friends who moved over here years ago.

Tragedy!

Claire and I are leaving for France this afternoon.

Tomorrow the new I'm From Barcelona (awesome Swedish band) album 'Who Killed Harry Houdini?' is released in Sweden.

Fate is cruel sometimes. So I got myself a håkan hellström CD and lots of hudsalva lipbalm to make myself feel better. I think they're much more exciting souvenirs that painted horses.

Nutrition

I did promise a couple of posts ago that I would let you in on the secrect of how I am maintaining my vitamin intake while travelling. Here's the secret: Coke Light, Plus Vitamins... (ie. Diet Coke to the Aussies)

This perverse piece of marketing tastes the same as the non-vitamin-laden variety of low-calorie Coke, but in a half litre bottle contains 75% of one's daily B12 and Niacin intake. Heaven's knows why these two vitamins have been selected as important, anyone apart from vegans can get enough B12 through their daily intake of meat and/or eggs and dairy. I first saw (and purchased it in Finland, but its also in Sweden, with it's sister product that claims to contain antioxidants).

Still, I had to by a bottle. Looking at the weird and wacky products that global corporations market to different corners of the world is a particular travel fetish of mine. I'd have to say that this is right up there with some of the weirder and wackier ones I've seen.

Anyway, I've had no need for extra nutrition while at Sophie's. Today Claire and I are leaving for a day long train journey to Southern France, where our parents are spending some time. I've resolved, after the last 5 days of eating, to put myself on a bit of a diet. Only fruit, veggies, low fat yogurt, good bread, nice cheeses, quality red wine, premium chocolate, plenty of croissants... dang it, this is going to be harder than I thought...

Cool People

Part two in a very sporadic series...

The guy in Estonia who pointed out to me that I left my Visa card in the ATM(/Bankomat/Cashpoint). Not one of my most lucid moments, but it was six o'clock in the morning and I'd spent a sleepless night on the bus. Unfortunately I was still in St Petersburg mode, so I thanked him profusely in Russian.

The Guard at the President's Palace in Helsinki who waved back to us when we went to visit. You won't find any of those Bearskins at Buckingham being so friendly. As mentioned in earlier posts, when it comes to Finland, everything is nice, even their gun wielding army personnel.

My Aunt Sophie, who is just like my grandmother, except more stubborn, more Swedish and, although it was thought to not be possible, more prone to constant chatter and constantly feeding people.If it were possible to kill with kindness then she would be a ruthless assassin indeed. She also lives in a very cool part of town.

Her apartment, where she has lived for 45 years, is in Sodermalm in Stockholm, an old working class area that has been invaded by students and hipsters (Melbournians, think of Brunswick but actually cool) so her neighbourhood is littered with excellent retro shopping, cool cafes and funky bars.

Today's Menu

Breakfast

Fruit (grapes and kiwifruit)
Porridge with jam and milk
6 different types of bread and biscuits (knakebrod, toast bread, Finnish bread, wafers, graham crackers, flat bread)
butter
6 different types of cheese (Gouda, Brie, Blue Castillo, White spreading cheese, yellow cheese, Gorgonzola)
tomato, cucumber, avocado and capsicum
marmalade
tea
juice

Lunch

Sauerkraut with beans
Cheesy tomato mushroom egg pie
Green Salad
Honey wine
Rum Cake with Cream
Apple Pie with Vanilla Custard
Tea
Chocolates (4 different types)
Licorice, cashew nuts, jelly lollies
Biscuits (choc wafers and almond biscuits)

Supper

Selection of breads, cheeses, salad.
Tea and juice
biscuits, chocolates and lollies

And I Woke Again Last Night, In A Strange Room

Today's blog title has been taken from a song by my friend Ben. I've always liked this song very much, but as it's a song about yearning and travelling, I've been thinking a lot about it lately.

When I am travelling, I always forget how much you take things for granted every morning when you wake up. At home, when I wake up I know what I'll have for breakfast, I know what I'm doing that day, and I know that I'll be back in the same bed at then end of it all, I know that it's likely Jen will still be asleep, and I know where the nearest post office is, and how much it will cost to send a letter. None of these things can be taken for granted while travelling; that's what makes it so much fun - but it can also make even the most mundane tasks exhausting and stressful.

Anyway I've been pondering these things because after a month, and about 16 different sleeping places by my rough count, this morning I didn't wake up in a strange room, but one that I am familiar with. Last time I was in Europe, about 5 years ago, I stayed in Stockholm, in this house and room and bed, for about 3 weeks. Stockholm is the first place in over a month where I don't actually have any strong inclination to play the tourist. I'm just going to let Sophie feed me, practice my Polish on her and walk around Stockholm pretending that I belong to this city. Because while Helsinki is nice, Stockholm is definitely cool.

(P.S. - Happy International Talk Like A Pirate Day. It was exciting to be able to celebrate it in Viking territory, because we all know that they were the original and the best pirates.)

The Baltic, See

So, being unable to find an ínternet cafe for the last few days, my octogenarian Aunt has a computer with excellent connection at her house. She says she doesn't understand it or use it, but that her children set it up for when they occasionally drop in. Thus, for the next four days while we´re in Stockholm I'll be able to attend to my backlog of emails and things to do. But before all of that, I can now tell you all about the Baltic adventures Claire and I have had since leaving our trans-Siberian family and venturing off on our own.
The overnight bus from St Petersburg was the final 'stressful' boarder crossing for us (excluding convincing the English boarder patrol to let us in) on this trip. We got to the boarder at 1am and spent 2 hours sitting around, being pulled off the bus, being put back off the bus etc. Thankfully we´re now in the EU, where there is virtually no boarder control between countries, and being Aussie doesn't mean pre-arranging visas for entry.
Tallinn It Like It Is
We got to Tallinn early on a raining Saturday morning, so it was dead quiet - we had the whole place to ourselves for a while. It's a very cute old city that has been very well preserved and restored. We spent two days binging on museums, churches, galleries, and, off all things, Mexican food. It really wasn't intentional, but each day around lunch time we just happened to come across a good looking, affordable Mexican restaurant, and seems Claire hasn't been within cooee of a tortilla for 8 months we made the most of the opportunity.
Tallinn is strange in that I'm not sure where the actual population of the city lives. The old town consists almost entirely of museums, galleries, souvenir stores, bad restaurants and cafes and more souvenirs. It's like Disney for Euro-Tourists. It's not even like Venice, where if you walk down enough side streets you'll find the local population. Normally this situation makes me sad, but the Estonians who I ran into and talked to seemed to be so genuinely proud of the city, and the extent to which it's been preserved that I gained an appreciation of what a feat that is, considering that it was pretty heavily bombed during WW2.
Architecture (And Islands and Food and Shopping) In Helsinki After 2 days in Estonia we caught a ferry north to Helsinki. Now, I've heard rumours that Helsinki is cool. Like Prague, Edinburgh, Berlin and Stockholm before it, Helsinki is apparently cool du jour. I'd have to say that it's not so much cool, but it's certainly nice. It is small, clean, open, and has that effortless Scandinavian elegance - but it's just too small and nice to be cool. It's full of chic kitchen wares rather than chic fashion, and it's cafes are homely, not boho. Still Claire and I had a lovely time there, we visited the island fortress Soumelinna, and spent a lot of time at the food hall (cheap baguettes helped to offset the otherwise costly nature of the Scandinavian lifestyle).We also did something that I've been avoiding for some time now, clothes shopping. We hit up all the cheap and cheerful retailers (H&M, Vero Moda, Indiska etc) and I now own more than 2 summer skirts and 3 t-shirts. This is really a positive step, because the weather has taken a turn for the colder in the last couple of weeks. While it was 22C in Moscow less than a fortnight ago, it was 6C in Helsinki yesterday. Given my predilection for gloves, scarves, hats and coats, the change in temperature has been met with great relish.
Taking Stock(holm)After an amusing overnight ferry ride, in which we were in a cabin deep in the hull (the part of the ship in which everyone in Titanic were Irish and died very early on) we have arrived in Stockholm. We're spending the next four nights with our Aunt Sophie (nan's sister). I'll post all about how much I love Stockholm later - provided Sophie doesn't feed us to death first...

Net Loss

There is an inverse relation between the technological sophistication of a nation and the ready provision of internet cafes. They were a dime a dozen in China and Mongolia (and that's probably a fair assessment of the exchange rate as much as it is an idiom) - but now we've reached Scandinavia, where they're so tech-savvy they pay for bus tickets using their mobile phones - there is a public access internet drought.

I'll be in Sweden soon, and spending a few days with my awesome Aunt Sophie, so hopefully I'll have more time to track one down. I'll be able to tell you all about how Claire and I have contracted H&M syndrome, and how I'm currently maintaining my vitamin intake. I'll also be able to tell you all about Tallinn and Helsinki.

Big Spender

Yesterday I dropped seven grand on a pair of boots.

Lucky it was in Russia, where the exchange rate with the Aussie Dollar is about 20 to 1 - but it's still probably more than the accumulated total that I've spent on shoes in the last 5 years.

They're really awesome. Thanks to sister-Claire, Meggi-poo and Hizza for partaking in the adventure.

Alphabetter

"I can't be bothered to learn to read the acrylic"
- Simone, fellow Vodkatrain traveller.

Unlike the lazy git Simone, I decided to invest a little time in learning to read Cyrillic, the alphabet in which Mongolian and Russian are written. It's definitely had it's advantages, there's actually a lot of use of English words, but written in the Cyrillic alphabet. eg интернет сафе is an internet cafe and фреш салад, if read aloud, is fresh salad. This is really a source of hours of entertainment for me.

That, combined with my smattering of Polish, has come in a lot of use.

Russin Around

There's been so much sightseeing to do over the last five days or so that I've been a big to distracted to blog. Thus, I would like to present my top three highlights from the capital of Russia, Moscow, and the 'Northern Capital', St Petersburg:

Moscow
- I'm sure I've said it before, but the metro is amazing. Every station is unique, and decorated with mosaics, or leadlight, paintings, bronze sculpture, plaster moulding. The trains are occasionally rickety, but it's an incredibly fast, efficent and effective way to move around the city.
- Visiting Lenin. Claire was excited as she's now completed the trifecta (Ho Chi Minh, Mao and Lenin). I was excited as it was a rainy day so we had Lenin to ourselves (excluding guards). Also, we got to walk in along red square - which was the only way we got in there as it was still closed after Moscow day.
- St Basil's - It looks like it's made out of icing, it's so colourful. Ivan may have been terriblee, but he was also terribly cool for getting it built.

St Petersburg
- The Hermitage and Winter Palace. Over 3 million works of art - that's one for every member of the population of the city. We spent about 4 hours there and only saw a fraction of the art. There were whole rooms of Rubens and Rembrants and a couple of great Da Vinci Madonnas. You'd have to spend a week there and still not get to see everything properly.
- The city itself is beautiful, full of lovely churches and buildings and places of historical importance (I studied the Russian revolution and this place is seeping with important events, places and people from that time).
- The Hermitage. What can I say? I am an art nerd and this is art nerd heaven.

Tonight Claire and I are catching a bus, and when we wake up we'll be in Estonia and back in the EU! I'll make sure to write again from Tallinn.

Happy Moscow Day

The city with the world's most beautiful Metro system is celebrating it's annual day today with a lovely late burst of warm weather.

it's so good to be back in Europe - and back in the (former) USSR. How I have missed you Eastern Europe! And also your fondness for baked goods, potatoes and white cheese. I know there's more to love than the food, but I'll get to that after visiting Red Square tomorrow.

3762 Things To Do On Trains

Having completed the 78 hour train journey from Irkutsk in Siberia to Moscow, I have decided to publish a book with the above name. Below is an excerpt:

Idea 2456: Eat
We decided to use our time and money creatively and instigated a cooking challenge. The group divided the nights up among us and 2-3 people cooked for all 8. This is especially challenging given the tiny preparation area and the fact that the only cooking process you have is access to boiled water. My group made a trifle for dessert, it was awesome

Idea 2457: Get Crafty
Claire did general repairs, Meg sewed flag patches on her backpack from different countries. I found some wool for sale at one stop and decided to knit a scarf using my chopsticks. It's bright green (the scarf, that is).

Idea 2458: Discuss All Bodily Functions
Spending all day and night with the same people in a tiny box brings a new level of intimacy, discussing toilet events is a topic that everyone has something to say about.

Idea 2459: Befriend The Cabin Guard
Even if you don't speak the same language. Then you can find out all about how he's dating the other cabin guard, but also seeing his boss, who as a boyfriend at the next stop. Who knew trains were so exciting.

Idea 2460: Get Sick
Claire, Bella and Jules all did this. It gives the others something to talk about. Works especially well with idea 2458, but not idea 2456.

The land of bread and cheese....

In my first year of uni I did a European Politics class in which we spent hours of our tutorial debating whether Russia was really a part of Europe, and, if it's western flank is, whether the whole country is? Or is the eastern half more Asian because of it's geographic location?

I can safely give three arguments as to why the Eastern part of Russia, where we are currently located, can safely be classified as European and not a part of Asia:

1. Ready access to quality bread
2. Ready access to quality yoghurt
3. Ready access to quality bread

There has been much consumption of the above staples over the last couple of days, which may also account for the improvement in health.

We spent the last couple of days living on the lake - and not just any lake. We've been at a lovely guest house on lake Baikal, the largest fresh water lake in the world. It's over 600km ong at over 60km wide at most points, so it was more like being at the sea than a lake - albeit a sea with no tides, no waves and fresh water.

Two nights of sleeping on the train cured me of whatever variety of stomach bug I had, and the fresh air has done the rest. The place is rather beautiful - a deep still pool of water with mountains that come tumbling down from all sides, all lush with green pines. The lake is actually a tectonic rift that will one day split the continents of Asia and Europe in half.

We went for a couple of long walks, had a boat ride and a traditional Russian sauna, which was much like any other sauna I've had except at the end you hit each other with bouqets of birch branches. This is actually a bit less kinky than it sounds - it's a massage technique where you feel like your being hit with wet plastic bags. Very relaxing, much like the last few days.

This afternoon we start the 3 night train ride to Moscow. Next time I write I'll either be very relaxed or completely destroyed by it.

Under The (Mongolian) Weather

We're spent the last couple of nights living in a traditional Mongolian ger (tent-like structure) - the scenery was breath-taking, and the air was breath-able, which is a nice change after smoggy China.

While at the ger we went horse riding, visited a nomad family at their ger, ate some interesting dairy products and made the most of the lovely views.

Unfortunately I'm feeling a bit crook today - early diagnosis was a hangover, but I think it may be a bit more lingering. We have an overnight train to Russia this evening so hopefully a good sleep will make me a bit more lucid and descriptive for my first blog from Russia.

Blueberry Flavoured Potato Chips

The worst chip idea ever.

The Closing Ceremony - Bye Bye Beijing

The city very kindly held a massive farewell party for us last night - which was very sweet, but a bit premature as we don't leave until tomorrow morning.

For the last couple of days Claire and I have been seeing the last few sights on our to-do list. We've seen the old - Ming Tombs, Lama Temple, Mao, who was as orange as a supermarket cooked chook - and the new - the Birds Nest, the Water Cube, CCTV building. We also met the people from our tour group - there are 8 of us in total, all Kiwis, Aussies and Poms.

Things I will miss about China:

- Cheep taxis and cheep beer: a cheerful combination that I sadly underutilised.
- Having Claire's language and culture skillz: making everything that little bit easier, or crazier.
- Anything with redbean paste in it.

Things I won't miss about China:

- The location of our current hotel: it's about 40km from the city centre, lucky we're only here a couple of nights.
- Locals wanting photos with us: it's one thing to go visit tourist attractions, it's rather embarrassing when you constantly become one.
- MSG: It's. In. Everything.

Goodness, Gracious, Great Wall of China

Yesterday Claire and I took a day trip north of Tianjin to visit the Great Wall.

We spent a lovely three hours on the train there chatting to some students and miming to their parents. When we arrived in Ji Xian we were met by our guide Diana and our cavalier chauffeur, Mr Wong. It was a 30 minute drive through the lush green country side to the wall at Gyuan - actually, it probably should have taken longer, but Mr Wong had a rather lax interpretation of the road rules as do many of the drivers around China.

The wall was amazing, we were right in the middle of a valley and it went soaring up among the jagged mountains to either side of us. Diana accompanied us most of the way up but had to turn around at the last bit, which I thought was fair enough considering that she was trying to do it in high heels. The final section was so steep that I climbed it using all fours, and had to crab crawl back down. It was worth it though, the view was spectacular and we were pretty much the only people there.

After the climb we ate lunch, saw a few temples in town and then Diana put us on a bus home. The bus was a decrepit mini-van and most of the trip was spent chugging along at about 30 km/h. It was the worst bus trip ever, but it was fascinating to see the effects of rampant growth on rural and sub-urban China. As we got closer to Tianjin we passed the factory workers spilling out after their shifts, heading home on their bikes or stopping to eat at roadside carts.

By time we made it back to the hostel, over 3 and a half hours later, we were caked in dust. We washed and decided to head out for dinner. Claire took me to a restaurant so that I could try lots of authentic Chinese dishes. We had Sichuan hot-pot, Peking duck, sweet and sour pork, and lamp (lamb) skewers. It was all incredibly tasty - but never fear, it was all at a Buddhist vegetarian restaurant so it was fake meat!

Today we meet the group we'll be travelling the Trans-Mongolian with, which means heading back to Beijing on the express train - travelling about 350km/h, it should be snappier than yesterday's bus ride.

Curse of the Cankle

After three days of walking around in my sneakers in the oppressive heat, my ankles have turned bright red and swollen so that from calf to foot is one straight line. It's rather sensitive to touch and looks like scars from stepping into a deepfrier as a child.

To alleviate the pain, Claire and I took bikes around Tianjin today. Tianjin is East of Beijing, but equally flat. Riding here is a pleasure, even on the clunky pink single speeder that I christened Lui-Xi for the day. Bike helmets are non-existent and road rules are much the same -The jaywalking policeman was a particular highlight. Bikes have their own lane completely separated from cars, so all together it was a delight to peddle around.

We rode out to the Olympics stadium, where soccer finals have been held. We also visited some temples and old streets around town to do some shopping. Claire is a demon bargainer - she's so ruthless that when we went to the supermarket I was afraid she was even going to haggle with the register attendant...

The swelling and redness has started to go down on my ankles, but they still look rather nasty. Nothing a few quiet days can't fix.

Cool People: Beijing

The Waterman who runs the small shop across from our hostel who has sold me much much water in this hot hot heat (special mention to Claire for teaching me how to ask for it in Mandarin).

The Security Guards who scan your luggage, no matter how big or small, at every subway station. None have shown the slightest concern at my Swiss Army Card - although I'm not sure how much damage I could wreak with it anyway...

Dowager Empress CiXi for building the Summer Palace on the outskirts of Beijing in the late 19th century. I could not think of a finer waste of funds intended for use by the navy.

Ni Hao from China

The two most exciting things to tell you from the outset are:
1. I'm wearing shorts and my poor pale legs are finally liberated from a chilly winter of being stockinged.
2. While sitting here typing this my sister is sitting next to me - I now have her back to amuse me.

The flight over was fine, I had a seat next to me free so just slept a lot, and watched Kung Fu Panda to get me in the Cino frame of mind. The flight from Melb to Syd was only delayed by 30 minutes, and it didn't blow up, so it was a pretty good service from Qantas all up.

Sight seeing today involved the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square, both being on a scale really beyond comprehension - the pain in my feet after a day of walking being the most reliable measure of their scale. We tried to go to a restaurant from the Lonely Planet for lunch - but the whole street had been leveled and rebuild, and all the shops were empty. It was unsettling thinking about all the people who use to live there, and wondering where they now were. We also attempted to see the Underground city, but they were 'closed for repairs for the Olympics' and would 'maybe open next year.' Walking back to the station, the same unsettling feeling returned.

The women's marathon was on today - we were lucky enough to see one of the runners go past as we were crossing Tiananmen square. I didn't see what country she was from, and she appeared to be last, but we cheered for her anyway because anyone silly enough to run in this weather deserves a clap.

Still, it is an amazing city, a low-rise sprawl with no real centre. Claire's cultural insights and nifty Mandarin have been invaluable, and I'll be making the most of both over the next 9 days or so. She knows how to buy me water, and she bargains like a devil. She also keeps finding me interesting food to eat - including my favourite so far which is a pancake that is somewhere between a roti and an ommette.

Vis a Vis Visas

Thank you for finding my blog, and welcome aboard.

I received my Chinese tourist visa the other day, which means that I'm all set, immigration clearance-wise.

Departure is August 16. First stop: Beijing, smack bang in the middle of Olympamania.