Christmas 2009 (Part 3)

After the long drive of the day before it would have been very tempting to sleep in however, being in Budapest on the last day of our official 'tour' with Aron, Meg and Wayne were both up relatively early and headed downstairs for the buffet breakfast. It was exciting to see bacon and eggs (there is not a lot of bacon in Qatar and the bacon that is there is turkey bacon), sausages and other hot foods, along with the cereals, cold meats, fruits and various types of breads that we typically encounter in Europe. Both boys eventually joined us but it was clear that they were still very tired, so they were given the option of staying home for the final Christmas Market of the tour. This they elected to do, so it was only Meg and Wayne who came down to meet Aron when he arrived at the Hotel Unio.

We were very pleased to hear that his children were feeling a little better and determined not to monopolise too much of his time, so that he could return home to spend the remainder of Christmas Eve with his family. The Unio Hotel is not far from Teréz Körút (Theresia Boulevard) one of the main thoroughfares that runs through Pest, so we decided to walk from there up to the Nyugati (Western) Station. The station was opened on October 28, 1877, having been built by the Eiffel Company, the same engineering company run by Gustave Eiffel which was responsible for the design and building of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. It is the main station for transport to and from Budapest Ferihegy International Airport and one of the major transport hubs in the city.

Above the railway station lays a major shopping centre, the WestEnd City Center which was Central and Eastern Europe's largest shopping centre when it was opened in November, 1999. Even though it may not have been as big as some other shopping malls we had explored in other parts of the world it was still an interesting experience. We were able to do some more Christmas shopping before heading downstairs to the underground railway station which is part of the third oldest underground in the world. While the London Underground was built in 1863 and Istanbul's Metro in 1875, Budapest's Yellow Line was complete in 1896, yet despite that is quick and efficient. Soon we were disembarking at Vörösmarty Station which is adjacent to Vörösmarty Square.

The square is held to be one of the city's most beautiful and is adjacent to the Gerbeaud Confectionary company building which acts as a giant advent calendar during the month of December. Each day one of the windows had been opened till, as we were there on Christmas Eve, there was only one left. As with the other markets that we had been to it was largely comprised of small wooden huts which held a mixture of food and drink stalls and those selling Christmas decorations or traditional Hungarian folk products. All the products on sale have been handmade in the traditional way and this is guaranteed by the Association of Hungarian Folk Artists. Christmas cookies and glassware are particularly famous but the market is also known for providing entertainment in the form of puppet shows, folk dancing, and traditional music.

By this stage of our trip there was very little snow left, with just some small grey scrapings piled off to one side but there was still a very festive feel to the market itself. We particularly loved the Christmas decorations made out of grass, and it was when photographing a large boar made in this way that Wayne was unable to avoid taking a photograph of a small girl. When he raised the camera, she stood beside the boar, when he put it down she looked carefully at him then started to walk away. As soon as he raised the camera again she raced back and stood next to the boar once more. Consequently, there is an unidentified small girl featured in our photos.

From Vörösmarty Square we wandered down a mall toward the Danube to look across the river from Pest to Buda. The banks of the river, along with many other parts of the city are a World Heritage Site and even in the cold on a day which was fairly overcast; it was quite clear how beautiful this part of the city is. Many people know that the city was originally two cities, Buda and Pest, which were unified on November 17, 1873 to form modern Budapest. However, there has been a settlement on the site since, at least, the 1^st century BC when it was occupied by the Celts who called it Ak-Ink (which meant 'abundant water'). Aquincum was the name given to the city by the Romans who were but the first of the conquering armies who have overtaken the city at various stages of its history. Aron had entertained us the previous day with the stories of the many glorious defeats which Hungary (and Budapest in particular) had suffered over the centuries. As Australians (who particularly remember the battle of Gallipoli in World War I) we felt we could empathize with him.

From the waterfront you can see some of the amazing sites on the hills which comprise Buda on the eastern side of the river. These include Heroes Square with the Millenary Monument, Matthias Church, Buda Castle, and the statue of Szent Gellért. Saint Gerard (or Saint Gellert as it is in Hungarian) was Hungary's first bishop and lived from 980 till 1046. Allegedly he was placed on a 2-wheel cart, hauled to the top of, what is now, Gellert Hill, and then allowed to roll to the bottom. Because he was still alive at the bottom he was beaten to death. He is now one of the patron Saints of Hungary and every September 24^th is celebrated as a feast day for him. Like so many other parts of Europe, statues abound in Budapest and even include statues of people who are completely covered.

From our vantage point between them you could also see two of the most important bridges across the Danube. Looking to the south we could see the Erzsébet (or Elisabeth) bridge which is the second newest bridge in Budapest. It was built between 1897 and 1903 across what is the narrowest point of the Danube through Budapest. The reason it heads directly into the base of Gellert Hill is that the land was owned by a city councilor who bribed other officials so that he could sell the land at a greatly inflated amount for bridge construction purposes. Unfortunately, this necessitated a sharp turn immediately across the bridge on the Buda side which, while it was no doubt painful in a horse drawn carriage, has proven to be disastrous for motor cars with numerous people killed or seriously injured. The bridge is, at least, not named after the councilor but for Queen Elisabeth, a popular Queen and Empress of Austria-Hungary who was assassinated in 1898, while the bridge was being constructed.

To the north is the Széchenyi Chain Bridge which was the first permanent bridge across the Danube and when it was opened in 1849 its center span of 202 m was one of the largest in the world. The bridges primary structure and decorations are cast iron and, along with the stone lions at either end, make it a particularly beautiful example of what the industrial age could achieve. Despite legends to the contrary, the lions do have tongues (although they are not visible from below, which is the usual point of view, as the lions are lying on a stone block some three meters high). However, people have been known to criticize their apparent tonguelessness. When confronted with such criticism the sculptor replied "Your wife should have a tongue just as my lions have, and woe will be unto you!" In a maneuver that has become more common Hungarian stunt pilot, Péter Besenyei, flew upside down under the bridge back in 2001, which would have been very impressive to see.

We retraced our steps back along the mall, stopping to admire some beautiful shop fronts. Part way up, while looking at some of the souvenirs available we spotted a gentleman carrying a large, pine tree over one shoulder. Clearly not everyone is of the impression that Christmas trees need to be erected a month or so prior to Christmas Day. After successfully navigating his way along the side street it was a little more difficult to manoeuvre his way through a narrow doorway and up at least one flight of stairs. We appreciated his tenacity, which reminded us that we still needed to arrange for a Christmas tree for the following morning at our hotel. Aron offered to loan us one, but we assured him that we would be quite able to make do. Indeed, after a return train ride and then the short walk back to the hotel we bid farewell to our guide from the previous few days. He had been very helpful, organising all sorts of things and responding to any requests that we had made of him. If you are interested in travelling in Eastern Europe we strongly recommend contacting him at CentralEastEurope.com.

Because of the time difference it was already Christmas in Australia so the first of our phone calls to family took place before we went to bed. Following the pattern we had established the year before, Wayne and Meg borrowed a tree from the hotel to set up in our room and spread out the presents ready for the following morning. Also following the pattern, the boys claimed that they were going to sleep in the following morning because they were so tired yet, when the time came both Brock and Quinn were knocking on the door while Wayne and Meg were still in bed, wishing them a Merry Christmas and wanting to come in and investigate. Breakfast was downstairs in the restaurant (we were 4 of only 8 guests staying in the hotel) then more phone calls and present opening were the order of the rest of the morning.

That afternoon we decided to go out to the local shopping centre, Arena Plaza, to see a movie. The boys wanted to see the movie Avatar and, once we had determined that it would be shown in English they went off to see it while Wayne and Meg had a cup of coffee and strolled around the shopping centre. The more we travel, the more we come to realise that things that we took for granted in Australia (almost everything being closed on Christmas Day for example) are not necessarily the case in other parts of the world. In Hungary much of the Christmas celebration takes place much earlier in the month while the other part tends to happen on Christmas Eve. Consequently, there were lots and lots of people out at the shopping centre. By the time the movie was over it was almost dark and time for our Christmas dinner.

When we had first booked the tour with Aron we had asked if he could arrange something for us in Budapest for Christmas dinner on Christmas day. Trying to find food that resembled a traditional Christmas dinner in the UK or Australia was a very difficult task. Pertu Station was down near the Danube on the Pest side and near the Erzsébet Bridge. It is designed to look like a train station on the inside, perhaps one that is on a line that has been discontinued, even down to the rails placed into the floor of the upstairs section of the restaurant. Downstairs was elegant and the staff were very friendly. Dinner began with a beef consommé, followed by a main course chosen from a few different options (including chicken and Hungarian goulash) then desert consisted of a crepe with rich chocolate sauce. All of this had been pre-paid as part of our tour, with only the wine and drinks an exception.

After dinner we walked across and through the streets and malls to give the boys a taste of the Budapest Christmas Market at night. Unlike many of the other markets that we had visited, Budapest continued right up to Christmas itself and the square was very busy with many of the visitors buying the traditional foods and other ornaments and items for sale. The lights were very beautiful, especially at the Gerbeaud Confectionary building on Vörösmarty Square. Walking down to the Danube was cold but still wonderful with the buildings and monuments on both sides of the river being lit up spectacularly. By the time we reached the Széchenyi Chain Bridge we were all shivering but it was only a short taxi ride back to the Unio Hotel for our final night in Budapest.

Christmas 2009 (Part 1)

When we first moved to Qatar one of the pieces of official business that we had to undertake was to hand in our passports so that the visas could be affixed inside. Consequently, for the first few months of our time here we were not able to leave the country. This meant that we got to explore some of Qatar and to know more about our new home town. However, what it did not do was satisfy the itch to visit even more places. We had intended to take a driving holiday at the beginning of December but for a variety of reasons this did not work out. Consequently, as Christmas approached we knew that we wanted to fly somewhere and so we asked Brock and Quinn if they had anywhere that they particularly wanted to go. In the end, the only requirement was that it be somewhere where there was snow.

In order to arrive at a time that allowed us to see all that we wanted we needed to catch a 3pm flight from the airport at Doha. Fortunately Qatar Academy was having a half-day for the final day before the Winter Break so Wayne, Brock and Quinn were able to finish at 11:40 and head home. The traffic on the drive back in to the city was terrible but Meg had all the bags down and in the taxi so all that was required was the boys getting changed and we were off to the airport. Once again we had not told the boys where we were going and at the airport it was only Munich, where would change planes, which would give our destination away.

Doha Airport is only relatively small but busy. However, as we discovered when we first arrived, they have a service called 'Maha' where you are met by a representative who will take you through everything making sure that you have someone to translate in case there are any issues with different languages. They also wait in line for you when you are coming back in to the country and make sure everything to do with passports, visas and luggage is looked after while you rest in a lounge. We hadn't tried using it on the way out, so we decided to give it a go this time. In the end everything seemed fairly easy and we didn't feel like we actually saved anything in relation to time or queues so we will probably not use it again but it was worth it as an experiment.

Although our flights had been booked through Lufthansa the first flight itself was on a Qatar Airways plane, which gave us the opportunity to fly using our new 'home' airline. We had heard differing reports from people but we had an excellent experience. All the staff were courteous and helpful, the plane seats were roomy, and (much to our surprise) they served alcohol. As we were seated prior to take off we realized that two of the P.E. staff (who are married) were there with their two girls (both of whom Meg had taught during her relief appearances in the Primary School). They were off to Austria skiing for the holidays and would be picking up a car in Munich to drive the short distance to the ski fields. Although the boys complained that they couldn't go anywhere without running into a teacher from school it made the flight seem even friendlier.

Perhaps the thing that astonished us the most about the flight was the route that we took to Munich. We travelled north over Bahrain, and Kuwait, which was only to be expected. Then it was off over Iraq, and (much to our amazement) flying directly over Baghdad and Mosul. From there we trekked across Northern Turkey and the Black Sea before crossing the north eastern corner of Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary and Austria, before reaching Germany. In all it took around 5 ? hours and we touched down at "Franz Josef Strauss" International Airport to the sight of snow covering the sides of the runways and blanketing cars in the car park.

Disembarking at Gate G18 we had to walk off the plane, up the ramp, up a number of flights of stairs to the top level of Terminal 2. We then had to walk along through the Arrivals lounge to the area where connecting flights were arranged. This took us back in the direction we had come but down to the next level of the Terminal, along to Customs where we produced our passports, and down another flight of stairs. After a walk to the gate from which our allocated flight was to be leaving, we found ourselves at Gate G17, which exited down the same ramp as we had ascended when we had left our Qatar Airways flight. Approximately 20 minutes walking to find ourselves almost exactly where we had begun.

Otherwise Munich is a fabulous airport at which to have a layover. There were a variety of free newspapers (both German and in other languages) and free coffee, tea or hot chocolate available. If you are a smoker then various cigarette companies have sponsored special smokers' rooms with lovely glass windows, so the smokers can bask in their own carcinogens and everyone else can observe them as they walk past. There is a wealth of shops of various types in case you have the shopping itch and wireless internet is free throughout the Terminal. All in all it didn't seem very long before we were called for boarding and a small group of us boarded the bus to be taken out to the much smaller plane we would be taking to our destination.

Brock has made it pretty clear that he is rather hesitant about boarding any airplane that seats fewer than 100 people. Consequently, when he laid eyes on the plane he wasn't overly enthused. 'Still, at least it is a jet and doesn't have propellers'. This flight was conducted by one of Lufthansa's subsidiary airlines and was perfectly satisfactory. There was only really enough time for us to take off, be served some drinks and then come back down after the 45 minutes to Krakow. None of us had ever been to Poland before and our first experience touching down at the John Paul II Airport was an extremely positive one. As we came through Customs and out into the Arrivals lounge we were met by a taxi driver who held up a sign to indicate he would be taking us to the Hotel Aspel. As we went out to the car park we discovered a fairy land. There was snow everywhere (courtesy of the cold snap that had covered Europe for most of the preceding 2 weeks) and it hung on the branches of the pine trees like something out of a Christmas Card. The lights decorating the terminal added to the effect.

The drive through the snow covered landscape from the airport into the centre of Krakow was magical. Old fashioned European houses with snow covered roofs, beautiful old churches likewise, many places covered with fairy lighting and then finally a town which was lit up like a Christmas tree as well. Although we had been travelling for a considerable time it was still only 9pm as we headed for the hotel, yet there were very few people on the streets, perhaps because it was so cold. While we thought that the -12°C was quite nippy, the driver told us that only two nights earlier it had been a significantly frostier -24°C.

The tour guide that we were to be meeting the following morning had organized everything for our arrival, however there were a couple of mix ups over paying for the taxi (the hotel was meant to pay and invoice our guide, instead we ended up paying and having it deducted from our costs) and the rooms (Meg and Wayne's room was originally a twin, however they soon moved into a double) but these were soon sorted. With everything organized, including breakfast which would be brought to our rooms the following morning, and a winter wonderland awaiting us outside, it was only left to fall into bed and get some well earned sleep before our holiday properly began.

Perhaps because we were working on body clocks which were still a few hours ahead, on Doha time, we woke early and were able to enjoy the breakfast which had been delivered on a large trolley. From cereal and toast to bread rolls, a variety of sliced meats, juice, coffee, milk and fruit; there was an extensive range of food to choose from. Getting dressed in as much warm clothing as we had been able to muster (given that we are now living in a desert country) we headed down to the foyer to meet Aron our tour guide. Aron was not only taking us on our Eastern European Christmas Market tour but was also the boss of the agency through which we had organized it. While he is Hungarian he had spent considerable time in Poland, Slovakia and Austria conducting these tours, so he knew the surroundings very well. Much to our amazement we discovered that his wife was Australian and that he had spent quite a bit of time there. Most impressive was that he had driven up from Budapest only that morning, having left his wife and two young children asleep at home at 2am.

Outside the hotel was a tram stop which we would make use of to catch the tram into the centre of Krakow itself. Aron had a supply of Polish Zloty, although there was nowhere to buy a ticket. Not to worry, this could be sorted out once we were actually in the city. The trams were quick, clean and efficient and we were soon leaving the combined train/tram station and walking through the connected shopping mall out into one of Krakow's large squares. Here we were beset by tour guides wanting to show us all of the sights of Krakow, as well as the nearby Wieliczka Salt Mines and Auschwitz-Birkenau. One, in particular, was quite determined to take us somewhere for a sum of money but we had Aron to answer his entreaties and we were soon walking through the streets on our way into the centre of Old Town Krakow where the Christmas Market was being held.

Krakow used to be the capital city of Poland (from 1038 to 1596) and has a long and substantial history. It was named after Krak, who was a legendary prince of the Vistulanians (for whom the river, the Vistula, which passes through Krakow, was named). Like so many of the older cities of Europe it used to be much smaller and walled to protect it from invaders. There are still a number of substantial remnants of the walls and we were able to pass through and see these as we walked. The streets were cobbled and several of the signs on the buildings made it clear that they had stood in this position for hundreds of years, which wasn't entirely surprising when you consider that the city of Krakow dates back to the 7^th century. There is also evidence of a Stone Age settlement on Wawel Hill. Because of the snow and ice it was somewhat difficult walking, however there was very little in the way of motorized traffic on the streets which made things easier.

Sadly, the beautiful Sukiennice (Cloth Hall) at the centre of the Old Town Square was undergoing renovations which made it difficult to see fully. However, our first Christmas Market was still an exciting experience. The square was filled with small wooden buildings of various shapes, including some in the shape of barrels which were dispensing hot, mulled wine. There were all sorts of things for sale including; traditional Polish craft; Christmas decorations of a multitude of varieties and colors; Polish foodstuffs, especially a large selection of sausages; prints and postcards representing Poland and Krakow in particular; an extraordinary number of types of sweets, and many souvenirs linked to Pope John Paul II, the Polish Pope, who had been Archbishop of Krakow before being called to the Papacy. We had a lovely time browsing, taking photographs, and sampling some of the local delicacies.

Having toured the markets, Aron led us out of the Old Square and down through the park which runs alongside the Vistula. Having been away from England for so long it was wonderful to see so much snow on the ground once more. As we wandered along, admiring the surroundings and listening to the commentary that Aron provided, Brock and Quinn decided to indulge in a little snow ball fighting. Fortunately, neither of them is particularly accurate so when they turned their attention to the adults it was only Aron who received a blow (which you can be quite certain was not aimed at him). In the end, in order to get one another, they resorted to running up and pushing snow into their persons. By the time all of this had taken place we found ourselves near the base of Wawel Hill.

As well as being the oldest known settlement in Krakow, it is a legend that Wawel Hill was the home of a cave inhabited by the dragon Smok Wawelski. As it towers above the surrounding countryside it is the site of both Wawel Castle and Wawel Cathedral and has been both the residence and burial site of Polish kings. This made for quite a steep walk up the side of the hill, somewhat treacherous because of the snow and ice, but the views when one reached the top were tremendous. Interestingly, much of the building, including the Cathedral, looks rather piecemeal because each new conqueror of the area brought their own additions. This included Nazi Germany who, after the invasion of Poland, in September 1939, established the General Government (led by Hans Frank) in Wawel Castle. This diverse approach still manages to look spectacular.

Unsurprisingly, one of the first things we were confronted with when we reached the top of the hill was a statue dedicated to Karol Wojtyla, who in 1978 was both the first Slavic Pope and the first non-Italian Pope in 455 years to have been elected to head the Roman Catholic Church. The church is a huge presence in Krakow, with over 120 Roman Catholic places of worship alone, about half of those being built during the 20^th Century. Perhaps because it was the seat of government for the Nazi regime, very few of these buildings were damaged during World War II. Even the Communist rule which followed did not seem too inclined to do damage to the historical architecture and consequently, Wawel Castle and Cathedral is a very impressive spot. Even the drain pipes are beautifully decorated as gargoyles.

It is beautiful to look from the top of Wawel Hill down to the river. This was especially true on the day we were there as there was so much ice. From the walls of the castle we could also see into the region of Krakow known as Kazimierz. This was an influential centre of Jewish culture leading up to World War II when the Jewish population of Krakow was moved into a walled zone known as the Krakow Ghetto, from which they were sent to extermination camps such as Auschwitz and Plaszow. The movie director, Roman Polanski is a survivor of that ghetto, while the Oskar Schindler of Schindler's Ark and Schindler's List fame recruited the workers for his factory from there. From a population of around 70 000 prior to the war, the post holocaust Jewish population of the city was around 5 900 and by 1978 the number was down to 600. While most of the many synagogues were destroyed, the Old Synagogue (the oldest in Poland, built in the 15^th century) managed to survive although all its artwork and relics were looted.

On our way back down the hill we saw evidence of one of the other areas for which Krakow is renowned; education. There we saw the Arcybiskupie Seminarium Duchowne which prepares Polish men for the Catholic Priesthood. It is one of more than 10 tertiary institutions in Krakow of which the Jagiellonian University is both the oldest and best known. It was originally founded in 1364, making it one of the oldest universities in Europe and some of the buildings associated with it date back to that time. Aron informed us that Krakow is a place where many people come to do university exchanges, to continue pursuing their degree while doing some study in a foreign land. We can completely understand why you might want to do that here. It is a very beautiful part of the world.

We walked back into the Old Town Square (although we would have loved to take one of the horse drawn carriages that were traversing the streets, something for later on in this trip), stopping to admire the St. Mary's Basilica. It is amazing to think that this building had stood on this site for over 700 years since it was constructed, surviving all sorts of conflicts and other catastrophes. It is the model for many other churches built by Polish people throughout the world and is the original of what is known as the 'Polish Cathedral Style'. It was made even more familiar to English speaking people by a book, originally published in 1929, and called The Trumpeter of Krakow. This book tells the story of a famous 13^th century trumpeter who was shot in the throat while sounding the alarm before the Mongol attack on the city. As a consequence, every hour, a trumpet signal - called the heynal (hejnal) - is played from the top of the taller of St. Mary's two towers. It breaks off in mid-stream in memorial to the original. Midday's hejnal is broadcast by the Polish national Radio 1 Station and this is able to be heard throughout the country and around the world.

With a couple of stops for refreshment and to look in some of the local shops we headed back to the tram station to catch a tram back to the hotel. Aron had indicated that we would be able to still fit a visit to Auschwitz into our schedule before the end of the day, so we quickly changed into some warmer clothing and headed down to his van. We would become very familiar with this van over the next couple of days as it would be transporting us from Krakow to Vienna and then on to Budapest. This was our first encounter with it, as we made the 50 kilometre journey (it took a little over an hour because of traffic, ice and a couple of missed turns) to Oswiecim.

We had seen the entrance to Auschwitz in movies, such as Schindler's List and The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, but to be visiting the actual place as sunset approached and the whole area was covered with snow is something we will never forget. It is all still there, much as it was 64 years ago; the long wire fences extending toward the horizon on either side, row after row of old wooden buildings that had once provided a resting place for the 1.5 million people who had died here, the guard towers rising ominously toward the sky, even the railway lines on which so many of those people had entered the camp on their final journey. It was a sobering experience, particularly once you went inside one of the latrine huts and saw some of the conditions under which they were kept. The dormitories, even now, look cramped and we were glad that it was so late that we would not have time to visit the gas chambers and furnaces in which the bodies were first killed and then burned. Only a week or so earlier someone had stolen the sign that hung over the entrance to the facility but, thankfully, it had been returned. Our hope is that retaining this site will mean that future generations will remember what took place and such things will never happen again.

Our trip back to Krakow, with a detour to buy some fuel for the mini-van and some food and drink for us, was one filled with a mixture of excitement and seriousness. We were back in Europe and visiting some fabulous cities as we prepared for Christmas, but some of the other places we were going to see were going to be more downbeat in the manner of where we had just been. Our route lay along the River Vistula which we had seen earlier in the day covered in ice. While closer to Krakow this ice had been broken into pieces, further down river it was completely iced over. By now most of the traffic was either off the road or moving in the other direction so our trip back was faster than the trip down had been. When he reached the Hotel Aspel we headed off in different directions; Aron to stay with a friend of his who lived nearby, the boys to their hotel room, and Meg and Wayne to the supermarket next door to get some supplies for the drive on the following day.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like... (part 3)

In the past Brock has developed a bit of a reputation for waking up early on Christmas Day, even as recently as last year, 4am was considered by him to be a reasonable time to get up and start unwrapping his gifts. When Meg and Wayne were still undisturbed in bed at 7am on Christmas Day, it was as if a Christmas miracle had truly come. We had made phone calls to Australia the previous evening, to coincide with Christmas in that country, so once everyone was awake it was time to begin the process of removing wrapping paper.

Much to Brock and Quinn’s delight, Wayne and Meg had negotiated with the staff at the hotel to borrow the Christmas tree from the lobby the previous evening, so when the boys entered their parent’s room there were all the gifts spread out underneath a small, white Christmas tree. A highlight among the gifts was Marni (Meg’s Armani handbag, which she had actually made use of the day before) and which can be seen in the photographs of the floral clock in Geneva. Other favourites were a pink scrabble set raising funds for breast cancer research, and a collection of various delicacies from Australia including Cherry Ripes and Twisties.

As it was not snowing in Ville-le-Grand at that stage we jumped into Veronica and headed off for another explore around this section of France. Initially we headed up in the direction of Evian-les-Bains (where the water comes from) via the D1206. This took us through some very picturesque French villages to the town of Douvaine where we decided to stop for breakfast. This is part of the region of Haute-Savoie (which was annexed by France on the 24th of May, 1860) and which has within its boundaries Mont Blanc (the second highest mountain in Europe). This region has borders with Switzerland and Italy and contains some of Europe’s best ski resorts which might have been the prompt for the next change of direction that we made.

You can see from the photographs on our blog that the town was beautifully decorated for Christmas, with the town hall (which we parked outside) being particularly attractive. What astounded us was the number of businesses which were open on Christmas Day. We joined the locals walking to the bakery and, once inside, attempted to buy some croissants. Even trying to speak our basic French proved to be difficult here but eventually we were able to be understood and returned to the car with the sustenance we required.

Rather than continuing up to Thonex-les-Bains and Evians-les-Bains we decided to turn around and head down the A40 toward the Mont Blanc tunnel, connecting Italy with France. Once again the scenery was absolutely breathtaking; we drove along the valley with sheer cliffs leading up to enormous mountains peaked with snow, we passed ponds and rivers with were totally frozen over, while it was at times cloudy or foggy when the sun glinted off the mountain tops or reached down into the valley it was truly majestic. On the cliffs were perched chalets which must have had the most amazing views. The further south we went the more snow we encountered and eventually it was all around us.

As we were getting a little low on fuel we pulled off the road when we saw a service station connected to a McDonalds, however neither building was open. While we were out of the car, however, it began to snow and we were experiencing what we had wanted all along, a White Christmas. Near where the car was parked was a small snowman and this gave Quinn the idea to start throwing snowballs again. After one successful shot we jumped back in the car and drove a little further down the road to the town of Sallanches where we were able to refuel and look a little around the town.

Recent excavations have indicated the presence of a Christian community on the site of the town since the 5th and 6th century. Indeed, the presence of religious institutions dominated the city for hundreds of years, and included a Capuchin monastery and an Ursuline community. It was only with the turmoil of the French Revolution that this began to change and the focus of the town became the economics of spinning, beer and chocolate making. As Chamonix (the town at which the Mont Blanc tunnel begins) began to become a tourist resort, Sallanches benefited as people began to rest on their route in the hostels there. In 1840 (after a succession of floods, epidemics and fires over a number of years) fire destroyed the town which led to it being rebuilt with the assistance of King Charles Albert of Savoy-Carignan. It was in 1921, however, when the town was declared a “station de tourisme” and appropriate facilities were put in place to increase access to the ski resorts in the mountains which overlook the town that Sallanches took on the form it bears today.

There is a river that runs through the centre of the town and we parked beside it to take some pictures of the lovely buildings, the river itself, and the mountains which seem to hang right out over the town. Wayne went for a short wander to see if he could find an automatic teller machine but was unsuccessful. However, he did meet one of the largest dogs he had ever seen licking passers by while its owner chatted with some other people. Given that most of the signs in the town itself pointed up into the mountains to where the ski resorts would be it was decided that this would also be the direction that we would take.

As you might expect, the road up was winding and quite busy. Veronica proved her worth yet again, barely skipping a beat with her 4wd capabilities. Along the way we saw some of the most beautiful chalets; just like you see in the pictures at European ski resorts in the advertising brochures. The snow was thick by the sides of the road and we all remembered the show ball fight and snowman building of the day before. Consequently, when we decided to stop at one of the tourist information and lookout sites, a snowball fight eventuated, with even Meg getting involved. Brock and Quinn also lay down in the snow to make snow angels.

It wasn’t much further up the mountain to the ski slopes and we were all amazed at just how many people were up there. Coming from Australia, and having been part of families that always got together on Christmas Day, the concept of going skiing instead was a complete novelty. For Meg, the fact that it was also so cold would have been reason enough to avoid it. However, at the altitude that we were, we were above the clouds and the sun was shining brightly, making it a beautiful skiing day. We investigated the cost of going skiing ourselves, and then just sitting on a chair lift and travelling up into the mountains, but both were prohibitively expensive.

Two purchases were made, however, the first of these being a small green piece of plastic with a handle. This is a sit upon sled for Quinn, who is going skiing with the school in February. This is yet another point of departure for those of us raised in Australia. Quinn’s ski trip is in the Italian Alps (in fact, not that far from where we were at the time). The second purchase was some lunch, which we sat down to at a little café in the village. While English was readily understood, our understanding of what might be meant by some words in English proved to be inaccurate. When Brock and Quinn ordered hamburgers they did not expect a meat pattie, seared on both sides but still pink in the middle accompanied by lots of chips. We later discovered that they should have ordered from the sandwich menu.

Another interesting aspect of dining here was being able to hear the conversations of other people around us. While there were also lots of French, German, Swiss and Italian people around us, it was interesting to note that there were also a significant number of British people. Indeed, one family group of about 14 represented 3 generations of one family for whom this was a regular Christmas celebration. Should any of you want to participate in such a festivity at some time in the future, we would be more than interested in exploring the idea with you.

After lunch we descended back down the mountain, stopping at one point to allow Quinn to try out his sled. While it worked, it seems he should not be doing it in jeans next time because they got soaked through, however we have chalked this up to experience. Knowing that we had got almost as close to Italy as you can get without actually crossing the border we were happy that Quinn was going to be travelling to somewhere new with the school and we turned back toward Ville-le-Grand.

We had a nap in the afternoon before Wayne went down and set up the satnav ready for our trip back into Geneva that evening. Before we had left for Geneva a concern had been finding somewhere that would be open and reasonably priced for Christmas Dinner. We had the option of looking for somewhere which would do the more traditional Christmas meal, or do something totally different. Unsurprisingly, we chose the latter course once more and with Sally Satnav at the helm giving instructions (she was christened this after Brock found out how to set her speaking to English) we set out for the centre of town.

While Meg and Wayne had both been in cars (or taxis) which used satnav before neither had ever actually driven with one, so it took a bit of adjusting to the way it worked. After a couple of turns where we turned a little early (and faced the wrath of Sally) we soon sorted out everything and easily found the restaurant. Only parking looked to be as issue, as the centre of Geneva was pretty solidly parked out. However, the restaurant had some parking spaces down a very narrow alley, so while Meg and Brock went inside to confirm that we were dining there, Quinn assisted Wayne with parking Veronica (only a mirror was slightly bumped in the process).

The restaurant we had chosen was an Ethiopian and Eritrean restaurant which specialised in pancakes and crepes, which had Brock feeling particularly dubious about whether or not he would enjoy it. When we arrived we found ourselves in a beautiful old building with weathered wooden beams, fabulously decorated in an African style which we could only suspect was representative of the nations whose cuisines were its specialty. When we met the owner, Helena Goodman, our suspicions were confirmed. She made us feel very welcome, produced brilliant food, and heightened our inadequacies about language; she speaks 5 languages French, English, Spanish, Italian and Arabic.

We could not speak more highly of the food. While it was not what we are used to as a Christmas meal it was absolutely fabulous. Meg and Brock shared an Ethiopian dish, while Wayne and Quinn both sampled Eritrean meals. They were very tasty, well presented and left us wanting more. Dessert was also special, with Meg deciding upon an apricot flambéed dish (largely because the Brock and Quinn had never seen a flambéed dish before. Wayne and the boys all had an amazing chocolate crepe with ice cream and cream. If you are ever in Geneva and need somewhere to eat, please go the ‘The Melting Pot’, we can guarantee that you will be glad you did.

After a fabulous evening, with wonderful food and good company, we eventually dragged ourselves out into the cold (it was below freezing) night ready to make the trip back to our hotel. This time, we turned the satnav back off again because we wanted to go back through the city and look at the Christmas lights for Christmas night. It was spectacular down by the lake, with all the lights we had seen the previous day now lit up. The city decorations (which again we had only seen unlit by daylight) were also very impressive and made for a fabulous trip home. Quinn sat in the back trying to take photographs while Wayne stopped when he could to assist this procedure.

By the time we arrived back at the hotel we were all still excited about the day, the gifts and the food. Consequently, even though we knew we would need to be up early in the morning to drive to the airport and drop off our bags before returning to the Car Hire Office to drop off Veronica, we still found it hard to get to sleep. It may not have been anything like any other Christmas that any of us had ever had, but the universal consensus was that it was one of, if not the absolute, best Christmas' ever.

I'm dreaming of...(Part 1)

Christmas overseas was obviously going to be different from Christmas in Australia. For one thing, our extended families were not going to be there. For another, the weather promised to be somewhat colder (although Wayne vividly remembers being very cold at Lorne a couple of years ago). We were faced with a couple of options; try and recreate an Australian Christmas in the middle of England, or, go the whole hog and have a Christmas that was totally unlike any that we had ever had before. Without too much debate it was on the latter course that we decided and, consequently, on December 23rd we found ourselves waking at 3:10am ready for a 4am drive to Luton Airport.

None of us had ever been to Luton Airport before, although we had all seen it on the television program ‘Airport’ which was shown on television in Australia before we left. After dropping off Madge (our Nissan Almera that replaced Kylie the Mazda 323 after our trip to Manchester) at the airport parking, the bus took us up to the airport which, even at this early hour of the morning, was thronged with people. We had learned our lesson from our Madrid trip and were there in good time, even so, by the time we made the front of the queue they were putting out a last call for our flight. Once again, Meg and Wayne had kept the destination from the boys however, even when they read where we were going Brock identified it as Genovia and Quinn had no idea where Geneva was (so much for that excellent Geography mark!).

The flight itself seemed remarkably short, even to Meg who was the only one who didn’t sleep, a point which she still reminds the others about. She claims that this negates our previous status as ‘delightful travelling companions’, the boys assert that they had not had very much sleep and so needed a nap and that it is not their fault that Meg cannot sleep on aeroplanes. Coming into Geneva was amazing as we flew over the Alps, covered with snow and everybody was really excited about the possibilities that the next few days held.

On the ground, it was a matter of collecting our luggage and then boarding the complimentary public transport into the centre of Geneva itself. When you arrive at the airport the free ticket you are provided with lasts for 90 minutes, however, all hotels in Geneva give visitors a pass which provides them with free public transport for the duration of their stay. This is great because Geneva is well stocked with trains, trams, buses, and ferries all of which fall under this provision. What we hadn’t counted upon was that, even though our hotel was only 16 kilometres from the centre of Geneva (they use kilometres in Europe, so we had to reconvert back from the miles to which we have become accustomed) it was across the Swiss border, in France, and so was not covered by this provision.

However, at this stage we hadn’t discovered this important fact and so, after arriving at Geneva’s Central Station, we boarded a tram out to Moillesulaz, a suburb of Geneva on the border with France. From there we walked across the border to get a taxi through Annemasse (the beautiful French town on the other side of the border) to Ville-le-Grand, which was the site of our hotel. Now because we were travelling to Switzerland and assuming that we would be spending most of our time there, the money that we had we had converted to Swiss Francs. Of course, now we were in France they would not accept these, only Euros would do, so before we could even get in the taxi we needed to get some more money. Once this was done our driver took a convoluted route to the hotel and charged us 3 times the amount he had originally quoted (taxi drivers are the same the world over it seems). It was at this point that we found out the news about public transport and Geneva not being applicable in France, which was a bit of a issue given that we had planned to use public transport to get back into Geneva and explore.

The hotel staff gave us some helpful directions and we were able to catch a bus not far away (although the walk was cold enough to have everyone rubbing their hands) and then a train from Annemasse Station back into a station near Parc La Grange on the edge of Lake Geneva. As you will see by the photos on our blog, Geneva is a beautiful city. There is a fascinating array of architecture with lots of monuments and streets dedicated to famous people. We jumped back on another tram (the ticket we had bought at the train station gave us travel for the remainder of the day) and went into the city centre to tour the shopping district and see what we could. After looking at the shops, we wandered down to the waterfront.

Although it was cold, windy and overcast, Lake Geneva was still a beautiful sight. It was only the wind being more obvious, and the lack of toilet facilities that drove us back into the city. However, there were so many parks and gardens in Geneva itself that this was not too much of a hardship. Among the many things we saw was a statue dedicated to Louis Favre, one of Geneva’s favourite sons. While it seems like a massive undertaking even now, imagine building a train tunnel through the Gotthard Massif (a mountain in between Switzerland and the Italian border) in 1872. When Wayne first travelled to Switzerland with his family back in 1982 they had travelled through the Road Tunnel, which had only been completed 2 years earlier) but he had not realised just how long the railway tunnel had been there. Sadly for Louis Favre he did not live to see the tunnel completed but died while still working on it one day in 1879. In this, he was among 200 who were killed while bringing about this feat of engineering.

Eventually, a toilet was found near an Anglican Church (which was a bit of a surprise to find in Geneva, particularly when we discovered that it was part of the Diocese of Gibraltar). However, when Meg, Brock and Quinn descended the steps (the toilets were underground) it transpired that only the men’s facilities were opened. Consequently, we continued to wander the streets for a period longer looking for somewhere for Meg to gain relief. This gave us the opportunity to travel the Rue Rousseau named for another famous Genevan, Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Rousseau was a major philosopher, writer, and composer during the Enlightenment, whose political philosophy influenced the French Revolution and the development of liberal, conservative, and socialist theory. His writings and music were also highly influential, but as it was getting late in the day (and no bathroom was to be found) we decided to return to Ville-le-Grand and Meg remained philosophical.