I returned to London from France slightly earlier than planned.  This was due to tragic event that I will post about sometime in the future.

After a short trip out of town, I found myself alone in the house in SW18.  This was because my hosts were away in Turkey.   I decided that given that I was in London again, I would do some more ‘London Stuff’.  Unfortunately, I found myself with a heavy cold for the first time in years.  It is only when you fall sick that you recall the last time you felt bad.  This cold slowed me down a bit.

The Natural History and Science Museums

I have always been fan of the museums which are located along  Cromwell   Road.  The route to the museums from South Kensington station is interesting.  The aptly named Exhibition Road has been converted into a shared vehicle and pedestrian space.  It seems to work.  The vehicles just travel slowly.

Code Breakers

The Science Museum had a special exhibit on the Bletchley Park code breakers.  I have been interested in the role the code breakers played in WW2, part because my mother was a cypher clerk in the RAAF and used the famous ‘Enigma’ Machine.  She didn’t talk about it much.  I am not sure if was due to not want to break the Official Secrets Act (apparently a lot of ex-service people respected the Act until they died) or because she simple couldn’t remember that part of her life due to Alzheimer’s.  Last year I went to Bletchley Park, which is near Milton Keynes. I suggest you go to the former and simply drive through the latter.  Back to the code breakers:  as the exhibit explains, the fact that the Allies were able to crack the Axis communications was a huge advantage and played a major role in the winning of the war.

First Byte of an Apple

Another exhibit that caught my eye was: ‘things that changed the world’.  These included the microwave oven (that has had no impact on my world) and the Apple II computer.  I used one of those in 1982 while working for a Chartered Accounting firm in London.  It was the first time I used a spreadsheet.  I recall it was called VisiCalc.  We used the spreadsheet to generate the financial statements of our clients.   This was done on one big spreadsheet.  The Trial Balance was in the top left corner.  The P&L Statement was to the right and the Balance Sheet  below. The notes to the Statements were below that.  We were amased at our ability to make changes to the Trail Balance and for those changes to flow through to the P&L and BS.  This was done, of course, by formulae that we entered into the sheet.  The only way to keep track of how the sheet worked was to have a paper version.  This was done with a series of butcher’s paper sheets that were pasted on the wall of the office.  The cell formulae in the cells for the P&L and BS that linked back to the TB were on the paper sheets.   It was all very primitive, but it worked.

In the case of one client, we took the computers into their office.  We carried them in normal suit cases.  The staff in the office were simply amased.

The Book of Morman

One of the great thing s about London is the theatre.  There are over 40 theatres in the West End. Most of the shows are musicals or comedies.  The ‘Book of Morman’ is both.  It is complete irreverent and extremely funny.  It should be compulsory viewing for all religious aficionados.  I say that in the context that, if you can’t laugh at yourself and in what you believe (I believe cyclist should rule the world), then you cannot be taken seriously.

Don’t go and see the show if you are concerned about hearing about maggots in gonads

Voting at Australia House

With the 9^th of September approaching, it was time to vote in the Australian election.  I am still enrolled in the seat of Warringah which takes in Mosman, on the Sydney Harbour,  and the northern beaches suburbs to the north.  The seat is held Tony Abbot, who is now the Prime Minister.  Needless to say, Warringah is the bluest of blue ribbon seats.  I am sure if Jesus Christ were to return and run for the Labor Party the Liberals would still win this seat.

It is said that we have ‘compulsory’ voting in Australia.  If you don’t vote you are fined.  I think the fine is $200.  Technically, this is not correct.  You only have to attend at voting booth and have you name ticked off and be given voting papers.  That is it.  You can decide to nothing with the papers or vote informal by incorrectly marking the papers.  This can include writing messages of the papers.

The voting at Australia House takes place in what was the Newspaper reading room.  As is the most places now, the place is staffed by security guards.  I am sure Al-Qaeda went long on shares in companies that provide security service before the 11^th of September 2001.

I decided to take a photograph of the scene in the room.  I was accosted by one of the many security guards, who told me that photography was not permitted “because it is a security risk”.  I refrained from asking what that risk was.

Mama Mia

As I left Australia House I passed the theatre that is staging the musical using ABBA songs. I decided to buy a cheap ticket – GBP 20 which is not too bad for a West end show.  As it turned out I really liked it.  The ABBA stuff is part of ‘the music of a generation’.  I particularly remember in 1979, ‘Dancing Queen’ being played in Tiffany’s nightclub (opposite the St James Tavern) at 11.50 p.m every Saturday night .   The Swedish girls that thitherto denied any liking to the band got up and danced, leaving their white clogs anywhere.

Back to the show, there were some ‘Swedish Girls’ of the late seventies in the cheap seats.    They knew all the songs.

I am not sure if the writers of the songs, the ABBA blokes, ever envisaged that their song would be used in a musical.  Whoever wrote the script was very clever in mixing the song and their lyrics into the dialogue.  It would be pretty difficult to use the words in ‘Waterloo’ in the storyline.  Unsurprisingly this was used at the encore.  The middle aged  svenka flicka  danced to ‘Waterloo’ as if they were in Tiffany’s in 1978.

Cabinet Rooms

The next day I meet up with my ex-colleague at Australia House.  This is always a pleasure meet up with her.

I had decided to visit the WW2 Cabinet Rooms.  My ex-colleague gave me directions.  Some people have interesting ways of describing how to get to places.

The rooms are located beneath Whitehall offices opposite the Foreign and Commonwealth Office.  They were where Churchill and the war cabinet and the forces commanders ran the war effort.  The rooms including the ‘Map Room’ and the Cabinet Room, and the sleeping quarter are as they were when the complex was closed in 1945.

Halfway through the route through the rooms, there is the ‘Churchill Museum’.  The museum traces Churchill’s life and career.   Whatever you might say about him, he had one hell of a like.  Some of his military decisions were not the greatest.  No providing sufficient air force resources to Singapore was one.

Lords

On Saturday, I decided to go to Lords. There was no cricked being played, so it was good day to do the tour.

There were several groups for the 2.00 pm tours.  Our guide was a woman – she was very good.  The tour starts in the museum.  Of course the star exhibit is the Ashes Urn.  The guide told the story of the Ashes very well.  This not a good time to be an Australian cricket supporter – the guide took great pleasure in make some cynical, however, amusing comments about Australian cricket today.

The tour takes in the ‘ Long Room’ and the home and visitors dressing rooms.  On the walls of the dressing rooms are the Honour Boards with names of the players that have scored Test centuries and taken 5 or more wickets.  The guide some notable absences on the boards:  Ponting, Steve Waugh, Lillee and Thomson, Warne.  There is one player, Keith Miller who appears on both the batting and bowling Honour Boards.   This is not a surprise. If  there was ever a ‘big match player , Miller is it.  The MCC have planted a Snow Gum in memory of Miller in gardens behind the pavilion.

The tour finishes in the Media Centre.  That is the ‘spaceship’ looking thing at the Nursery End of the ground. I actually think it looks great.  It has the best view of a cricket ground I have ever seen

Abbey Road

I had been told by nice girl in Seattle that: “if I was going to Lords, that I must go to Abbey Road” and to a street where a certain left handed guitar player lives.  I typically do what this girl asks.

The pedestrian crossing never changes – and one in a group of four crossing the road inevitably takes off their shoes.

The Design Museum

On my last full day in London I went to the Design Museum which is now near Tower Bridge.  It is about to more to somewhere in Kensington.  I went there primarily to see  3D printing in action.  This could be one of those ‘game changing’ technologies.

Flickr Link

http://flic.kr/s/aHsjJazSfW

 

 

 

Off to France

I took the train from London Bridge to Dover Priory.  It splits somewhere.  I know that but always think I am on the wrong part of the train.  As always I was on the correct bit, but still found it stressful.

Less stress was no having to stop in Dover.  I sometimes think if Hitler made it there he would have turned back. The ferry to France is great value – 25 GBP and they give you a food voucher of GBP 10.  This could be valued between GBP 0.5 and 9.00, either way the cost to cross the channel and be fed is not bad.

Last year I when was in Calais, I camped in a place about 10 klms out of town – not on my return list.  I checked into the ‘Pacific Hotel’.  Not sure what prompted the owner to call it that.  It was Ok and a bar nearby was good.  Calais is probably not a place to go to for a week, but a night can be ok.

TGV to Paris

My next task was to navigate the complexity of the SNCF on-line booking system and the fact that I had  my bike.  The internet site defeated me.  It would have been a better defence than the Maginot Line in WW2.  I gave up and went to the Gare to do it manually with a SNCF staff member who is actually there (take note companies such as Telstra).  They could only get me to Paris.  I was on the train to and intermediate stop and then a TGV to Paris.  I love Paris, but I hadn’t planned to stop there this time.  There were no onward slots for the bike so I had to stay over.  The weather was good (unlike last year) so ok.  I let the Garmin take me to the nearest camping ground.  Needless to   say using Mr Garmin is not a smart move.  Three hours later with help of some very helpful Parisians, I found the camping ground.   All was good.

I decided to eat there.  Basic food, but only as the French can do it, very good.

Onto Toulouse

I the morning, I headed back into the city.  Check the route.  I know that Paris is known for its inner city parks, but the size of some these is something of which I was not aware.  Past that communications tower yet again and back to Paris Montparnasse.  I caught to 12.26 p.m. TGV south to Toulouse.  I wonder why 12.26 and not 12.30 or even 2.25 p.m.?

I travelled on the first TGV that went on  from Lyon to Paris in 1978.  I was impressed then – 35 years on I am still impressed.  What a great case of forward thinking the establishment of that network was.  A great trip, with bike (velo) in its special place, racing across the countryside at 200 klms plus.  This is so civilized.

It is a fair ride to a camping ground in the outskirts   of Toulouse.  It proved to be a reasonable place.  The on-site restaurant served basic, but good food.  The waitress was very friendly.

I decided to spend the day in Toulouse.  The old part of the city is very attractive.  I rode around the streets fairly early in the day.  It was strangely deserted.  In a small square, I found a café.  As I sat reading my guide book, the place slowly filled up. I decided to follow a motorised train that takes tourists around the sights. I could not understand any of the commentary, but I was able to get a better feel for the place.  Lunch was a very generous baguette which I bought from a ‘hole in the wall’ shop in small lane.

I returned to the café where I had been in the morning.  This time I ordered a beer.  The waitress who was not there is the morning picked me as being Australian.  She told me that she had worked there for a year and “loved the place”.  She would make some comments and ask a question, then rush off and serve someone, only to return again.  I found myself having 3 beers. That turned out to be s a EUR 18 session – not cheap the way the AUD is falling.

When I returned to the camp site, a family of five rode up on their bikes.  There were very well equipped with Vaude panniers and BOB Trailer.  I had a brief chat with them.  They were Dutch and had ridden on the Canal Lateral from Bordeaux.  They were now heading down the Canal du Midi to Sete.  Clearly, the parents were serious cyclists.  Judging by the rolling eyes of the daughters, the children were less keen.  The father was very interested in my LEJOG ride and the fact that I had been to the Shetlands.  He told me that he and his wife were planning to ride in Iceland, but not with the children.  The oldest daughter said something in Dutch.  I suspect it was something along the lines of, “thank god”.

On the Canal

The next  day I started on the canal.  You join it at the main Railway Station.  Surprising there are no signs at the point.  The first stage is through the suburbs of Toulouse. However, it is not long before you are  out of the city.  I had seen pictures of the canal in my guide book and the internet, so I knew what to expect.  A feature of the canal is the Plane tress on either side of the banks.  I was surprised, however, by the size of the trees and the width of the canal.  The trees provide very good shade, which is a relief is given is quite hot this time of the year.

I stopped at funny little place for lunch.  It was a farmhouse on a path next to the canal.  The owner could speak a little English and offered a range of food, including sandwiches.  I thought I ordered a ham, cheese and tomatoes sandwich. I was somewhat surprised when chicken omelet arrived.

Cheap Night Next to a Wheat Field

I rode onto Castelnaudary and found the Municipal Camping Ground  about 2 klms out of town.  These are great value. This one cost  EUR 9.95 – why not EUR 10 is anyone’s’ guess.  The people that determine the departure times of the SNCF trains must also set the prices for the municipal camping grounds.  I walked into town for a beer and a meal.  There is not much choice when it comes to beer – lagers only.  But they are served very cold which just what you need in this heat.

Next morning I rode into the town.  I found a café-bar that was open and asked for a coffee and croissant.  The waitress spoke with an American accent.  She told me that they didn’t serve food, but I could buy food in the shop up the street and bring back to eat in the café.  She also said I could use the internet.  It turned out that she was Dutch and had been living France for 8 years.  Like so many Netherlanders she is fluent in all the major European languages.  It makes you feel so deficient being a mono-lingual Australian.

Disneyland Castle City

I finally go back on the canal and headed towards Carcassonne.   I stopped for lunch at a restaurant by the canal.  There was an ‘older couple’ sitting nearly.  We got chatting.  They turned out to be Australians that lived in France for half the year and in Australia for the other half.  He was semi-retired academic and she a ‘consultant’.  The bloke’s field was ‘public policy’.  He had some interesting comments to make about the UNSW Public Policy unit which Dr Peter Shergold chairs.

Late in the afternoon I arrived in Carcassonne.  I pitched my tent and headed into the walled Cite.  The place has a bit of a  Disneyland feel to it.  There are lots of bar/restaurants   and creperies. There are also any number of tacky souvenir shops.

The next dayI took an excursion  around Carcassonne and the nearby countryside.  The route brought back on a part of the canal over which I had already  travelled   That was not the best move.

Great views

Next day I headed off towards Homps.  I decided to take a detour of the canal staying a small town Cessaras. I left the canal and headed in the countryside to a small village called Cesseras. It is little high than the canal, but provides great views across the valley to the Pyrenees.

The next day I headed down to Homps to pick up the Canal.  Canals are great, but can be very much the same.  Water, track, trees, le Boats etc.

More Canals and the Future of a Divided UK

I decided to take a road to Narbonne.  As my guide books says, “it is a gem”.   The Garmin was not too good at finding the camp site.  Nothing changes.

Finally found, the camp site was quite good.   I was given a very large pitch for a very small tent.  The ground was rock hard.  An English family in the adjacent pitch lent me their mallet.  Unfortunately all that did was to bend the tent pegs.  Not to worry, the tent can stand without the support of the pegs.  The parents of the family turned out to be teachers in town just north of Portsmouth.  They had a lot interesting things to say about the state of education in England and the ‘north/south divide’ and the impact that may have on social unity.  The father’s family comes from Middlesborough in the northeast.   He told about a visit he made there to watch a football match.  He said he walk past a house that was open for inspection with an asking price of GBP 30K.  It was a reasonable house and would fetch 10 times that amount if was in the area they lived.  This a palpable example of a country with at least two distinct economies.

In the morning I headed into Narbonne.  It is quite a nice town.

I then head back towards the Canal du Midi along the  Canal  Robine   I had an excellent lunch in a small restaurant on the side of the canal.   The owner was English and suggest a Corsican beer.  It was very cold and very tasty.

Again riding the canal is great, but some of the sections are really rough and not too much fun on a fully laden bike.   I noticed that most of the riders on these parts were riding mountain bikes with no luggage.

No Bridget Bardots – young or old on this part of the French Coast

Before Beziers I decide to head to the coast to Narbonne Plage.  The guide book had described this area as being very popular for summer holidays.  It is true that it is popular, however, it is not the preferred destination of the rich, famous and beautiful.  Let’s say it makes Rosebud on the Mornington Peninsular look sophisticated.  This excursion was not a great move.  The camping ground was huge, but saying it was drab would be paying it a complement.  I had a pizza in a place in the main part of town. It was surprisingly ok.  After the meal I walked back to the camping ground via a ‘side show ally’  style entertainment park.  Like the Easter Show in Sydney, these places are the same the world over.

An early start saw me head back to the canal for the least stage to Marseillan.  Again, a lot of this  section was tough riding.  It was well worth it though.  The canal enters the sea just east of the town.  Surprisingly there is no signage to mark the end (or start if you are going in the other direction) of the canal.

The next stop is Sete.  This can be reached by the ‘lido’ or beach route, or by the inland route.  I decided to take the inland route, as I planned to ride the beach back to Marseillan Plage in two days.

I stopped off in Balarus les Bains  This is a nice little town.  The camping round was small but a happening little place.  I found myself drinking a chill bottle of red for EUR 2.5 at the suggestion of the staff member operating the bar.  It tasted better than Ok.  There is nothing wrong with chilled red in France when it hot.  Interesting conversations with an eclectic bunch of travellers – Dutch, English and French (not happy the conversation was in English) ensured.

Be careful who to trust giving directions

Next day I headed into Sete.  The town is visible form virtually anywhere in the region, in that it is situated on and below a large hill.  The route from Balarus les Bains was initially on a cycle path.  This came to an abrupt end.  As usual, the Garmin had no idea.

At  this point the Sete hill was not visible, but I was certain as to the general direction of the place.  A couple turned up on bicycles.  I asked them if I was heading right way to Sete.  They both spoke reasonable English and had a map.  They told me that they were only visiting the area.  The bloke looked at the map and concluded that Sete was in the complete opposite direction to which I was headed.  He also told me, and his wife nodded in agreement, that “it was not possible to ride to Sete, as the only to the city was very busy”.  I told them that I found that hard to believe, given I was seeing lots of cyclists around and some of them at least, must travel to and from Sete.

Having had enough, I rode off in the general direction of Sete.  I soon came upon the promised ‘busy road’.  Surprise, surprise, next to the road is a bike path and leads directly into Sete.

It is known as the Venice of France.  A good description of the place.

The next task was to secure a way back to England with the bike.  I have tried to use the SNCF web site to book trips for myself and the bike before.  On the basis of that experience I went to the station to book a ticket.  The SNCF staff member was delightful and diligent – 45 mins later I had my ticket for myself and the bike to Paris via Bordeaux.  Bikes are not permitted on the TGV from Montpelier to Paris anymore???

Still looking for Bridget

After securing my ticket back to Paris, I decided to head out of Sete on the beach route (mainly cycle path) to Marseillan Plage.  This is allegedly a sophisticated beach spot.

The camping ground was good, but very crowded.  Albeit the clientele were more sophisticated than Narbonne Plage, the improvement was marginal.

The next day I rode into Mareillan looking in vein for a sign marking the start of the canal.  I could not find it.  None seemed to know of one or even care if there was one.

Night in Sete

I rode back to Sete and checked into a cheap but cheerful hotel near the railway station.  I ventured into the city centre by the Grande Canal.  There was some sort of event on in the canal.  Two large boats head towards each rowed by about a dozen blokes.  High about the deck another bloke was hold a large jousting pole and was trying to knock the equivalent bloke on the other boat into the water.  There was a large crowd watching the proceedings.  They all seemed very interested.  I prefer cricket.

On the Train to Bordeaux and on to Paris

Confused SNCF Web Site Users

I got to the station early.  There were a group of cyclists at the station in deep and serious discussion.    It turned out that they were from Belgium and although they had tickets to Toulouse, that they had bought of the SNCF web site weeks ago, they were not able to board the same train as me, as they had not reserved bike slots.   They thought they had done so, but this tuned out not to be the case.  I know how they felt.  The SNCF booking site has me buggered, when it comes to booking places for a bike.  My strategy of using human seems to be the way to go.

Slow old Train to Bordeaux

The train is an Intercity train.  I suspect the rolling stock dates back to the sixties. I recall that most of the trains were like this one when I travelled through France in the late seventies and early eighties.  Most of the long distance routes are now serviced by the TGV.

I had a short lay over in Bordeaux, before catching the TGV to Paris

Staying in Paris near Gare du Nord

I stayed in the St Christopher’s Hostel near Gare du Nord.  It is quite a good hostel, seemingly staffed primarily by Australians.  I checked in a had a shower in the en suite to the room – luxury.

I ventured out of the hostel into the streets around the station.  Unfortunately this is not the best part of Paris, particularly late of night.

My train north was not leaving until 16.46 p.m. – another interest departure time.  As I was walking through the entrance area of the hostel a young girl asked me if I was waiting for the ‘walking tour’ .   I told her that I had not heard of the tour, but asked her about it.  As we chatted a bloke with a big red umbrella appear yelling “walking tour patrons!!!”.   I decided to join the tour.  Two other people joined us of the short train trip to St Michel where to tour proper started.

Over 100 people gather in a small square and were divided into groups according to language.  My group consisted on mainly Australians, Canadians and Americans.  Our new guide was an American from LA called Arnaut.   He claimed that he moved to Paris 4 years ago of the basis that his parents (who had never left the USA) had given him a French name.

The walking tour took us past the Notre Dame and along the Seine.  We went to courtyard of the Louvre.  Guide was amusing.  There a lot of pressure to provide a tip.  I happily gave the bloke EUR 10.  However, my tip is not to pretend it is free tour.

In Calais Again

The TGV got me into Calais about 6 p.m.  I checked into the same hotel a last time.  Not a bad place.  In the morning I boarded the ferry back to England.  There is no doubt seeing the White Cliffs Dover is up there as far as entry points into a country.

Flickr Link

http://flic.kr/s/aHsjHTeyUe

 

Some Days in London

I took the train from Ilkley into Leeds and changed for the fast train to London.  There is a lot of chat about the need for very fast trains in the UK along the lines of the TGV in France.  This seems all a bit silly. The UK trains are very good and given the distances between most of the big cities, including London to Leeds and London to Manchester , are relatively short the need to go faster to save 30 to 40 minutes on  trips seems to be not very cost effective.

I made it back in time to London for a meal prepared by my hosts.  How good are they?

The next day I met up with my younger cousins and their children at the Tate Britain. It was a family day out in London.  One half of the family lives in Austria.  The parents are totally bilingual with perfect German and English.  The father is English and teaches business at university in Austria.  The mother is Austrian and is an English and History teacher. The children speak English at home and German at school.  The advantage of being so skilled in languages is palpable.  It highlighted that old joke.  I am Australian on other words mono-lingual.

We walked through the Lowry exhibition.  I suggest that anyone that has the chance to see it do so.  It chronicles a very important part of English history from the between the wars to the mid-sixties.  He focuses on the ‘North’, primarily the northwest, but also the northeast, where my family come from.  Over the period he painted, England’s heavy industries including coal mining, steel making, ship building and textiles declined.  As these industries were concentrated in the ‘North’, this was the area that was most effected.  The ‘soft south’ as my Dad called it, sailed on unaffected.

The next day, I spent ‘up West’.  I love the West End of London.  That nigh I met up with my host in his local pub.  I was quizzed by a mate of my host about my LEJOG ride.  This bloke is planning to do it to mark his 60^th.  He may do it in 3 stages – returning to London for some R&R after stages 1&2.  Not a bad idea.

On Saturday afternoon, I went to a matinee performance of ‘Let it Be’.  This is one of the many ‘duke box’ musicals in the West End theatres.  Others include, Jersey Boys, We will Rock You and Mama Mia.  As the name suggests ‘Let it Be’  is the Beetles stuff.  There isn’t much other than the music.  Being a matinee, there was an eclectic audience including youngsters who stood and danced through most of the performance.  When ‘Twist and Shout’ was played the whole audience got up and danced.  A young mother on isle at the bottom of the dress circle near me had some particular good moves.

On Monday, I took the opportunity to meet up with my erstwhile Foreign Affairs colleague who is finishing her posting at the Australian High Commission later this year.  It is always a pleasure to meet up with her.

This was followed by yet another great meal provided by my hosts.

The next day I pack up the bike and headed off to London Bridge to catch the train to Dover and the ferry across to Calais.

I must mention that during the time I was in London, the 4^th Ashes Test was being played in Chester- le – street in county Durham.  There was a chance that I would go to that Test.  Again, it was a good one to missed.  Australia lost by 74 runs on the fourth day.

Flickr Link

http://flic.kr/s/aHsjHGGq9r

Serious Drinking on a Ferry

The ferry from Lerwick in the Shetlands  to Aberdeen was quite an experience.  The majority of the passengers were blokes, mainly in their forties and older, that either worked in the offshore oil industry or the fish farms.  Both industries work on a FIFO basis.  Unlike the Australian mining industry where the F is for fly – the F is for ferry.  They work for 12 days and have 12 days off.  While at wor they can’t drink.  This prohibition ceases when they board the ferry.  These blokes certainly give it a nudge when they get started.

I was in a 4 berth cabin, with two other berths booked.  I saw one other bloke.  The second didn’t come to the cabin.  I suspect was one the many who stay in the bar until closing (1.00 a.m.) and sleep there.

The ferry arrived in Aberdeen at about 7.00 a.m. Apparently Aberdeen is a happening cosmopolitan place.  That may be so, I don’t really know.  I found a place for a long breakfast and time to catch up on emails etc and I bought a train ticket to Edinburgh, which is definitely a happening place, particularly when the Fringe Festival is on.  On train down I chatted with a middle woman who looked disarmingly like Elizabeth Taylor.  She could talk under a metre of wet concrete.  As various stages I tried to include a young girl at our table in the conversation.  It was difficult. Thinking back I can’t remember much of what the woman said, only that there was a lot said.

Edinburgh Jumps and Seeing Double Again

I booked into the Edinburgh Central Youth Hostel.  This YHA actually turned out to be ok – much like the modern Australian YHAs with good sized beds and en-suite bathrooms.  It is also very convenient to the city attractions.

After locking up the bike of the ‘bike shed’ which turn out to be a rubbish storage area, I venture off into town in search of the ‘Gold Mile’.  I actually remember Edinburgh quiet well from previous visits.  The place was already jumping with the Festival due to start the next day.  I went to three pubs all with great live music.

The next day I wandered into town again and found myself in Rose St, a narrow street with lots of pubs and restaurants,  that runs parallel to Princes St.  Who should I run into, but the twins I had meet in Kirkwall.  Readers of the Orkney Days post will recall that I worked with one of these twins at the Sydney Harbour Foreshore Authority.  They were in great form, two pubs into drinking at all of the pubs into the street – I recall 17 pubs being mentioned.  I very amusing conversation ensured over a couple of beers, before I headed off to the Castle and the Museum.   In the evening I had a very ordinary Italian meal, and took in more live music at three more pubs.

The next day, the Festival had actually started.  I got tickets to Tony Law, one of the stand-up comics.  Before his show he played songs by the Who including ‘You Better You Bet’.   I Like that song when was released back in 1981.  The girl from Cooma (with the unusual name) that I mentioned in a previous post did not.  Listening to the lyrics now, I can probably see why.  The show was a bit off the air, but funny.  It is tough gig being a stand up comic.  More wandering in the city and big night of live music followed.

Coast and Castles Ride and Rain

In the morning I, packed up my bike and headed south.  The plan was to follow Nation Cycle Route 1 was on this section is known as the Castles and Coast Route.  The first part of the route goes nowhere near the coast, but rather, inland to the Scottish Borders.  It was tough riding into a strong southerly.

Finally the route hit the Tweed River and started heading east.  I had had enough by the time I got to Melrose.  I found the camping ground and set-up the tent.  The place had a few pubs.  The one I picked for a meal was great- excellent ocean trout.  I had a couple of pints in two other pubs.  I shouldn’t have bothered leaving to place I had the meal.

The next day I headed on down the Tweed to the coast.  It was a great run with wind behind me.  The countryside is very picturesque.

I stopped in Berwick on Tweed for a forgettable sandwich at the completely inappropriately named Bon Appetite café.

I then headed south towards Bamburgh  on the coast.  When I say on the coast I mean on the coast.  The track was right of the edge of the land.  It was mainly dirt single track.  I met a Dutch family riding form the south.  They thought they had  taken a wrong turning.  I assured them that they were on NCR 1 as I had been following the signs.

Late in the afternoon I got to Bamburgh.  I decide to stay in a hotel in the village not far from the castle.  After a meal into hotel I want for a walk down to the castle.  It is very impressive.  There is cricket ground next to the castle.  I dropped into what is known as the ‘middle pub’, on accounts of being between two others, for a beer.  The place was full of middle aged men in coloured shirts – some blue and some red.  It tuned out that the red one were Australians on senior cricket tour and the blue ones, there local opponents.  It was a few hours after the end of play and great many pints had been had by all.  I overheard the conversations of the day’s paly being recalled in minute detail.  This brought back memories.  I like the game but there some aspects that did bore me.  I was witness one such bit.

I woke up the next day to pouring rain.

Newcastle, Leeds and Ikley

I rode out of Bamburgh in the in the pouring rain.  This was not fun.  I headed towards Alnwick.  This has a great castle and my great grandparents hail from this area.  By the time I got to Alnwick I was completely saturated and cold.  I found a café for food and shelter.  The rain did no stop.

I checked the train times to Newcastle form the nearby town of Alnmouth .  There wasn’t a train for two hours.  I decided that train was for me.

I got into Newcastle and checked into the strangely named, Albatross   Hostel.  It is cheap and cheerful.   A pub nearby served a good curry and a selection of ales.  I refrained form have a Newcastle Brown.

Next day I took the train to Leeds.  I decided to stay in the Leeds Metropolitan University Residence that are in the old Kirkstall Brewery.  I had assumed that this would be near the Headingly Cricket Ground, the home of the Yorkshire County Cricket Ground, which has a ‘Kirkstall Lane End’.  I had the misfortune of see Geoff Boycott score his 100^th test century against the touring Australians in 1977 at that ground.  The residences are a long way from the ground.  However at GBP 25 per night the accommodation is great value.

I went into town for dinner by bus.  This time I had a good Italian meal and found a great pub serving a range of ales.  The copper on the bar must be worth a fortune.

Next day I headed to Ikley for lunch with my cousin and her husband.  Great conversation.  Fond farewells as I left to board the train to London.

Fickr Links

http://flic.kr/s/aHsjHj9YJG

http://flic.kr/s/aHsjHjahRY

Garmin Links

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/353458015

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/353457927

 

I decided that my second day in the Orkneys would be a  ‘domestic’  day.  That meant washing my clothes in a  washing machine for the first time since I had left Marshfield.

I found a Launderette in the town centre of Kirkwall.   I loaded my washing and looked for a café.  I found an inviting looking place a few metres away.  I ordered some coffee and plugged by laptop.  The waitress re-appeared with the manager.  I was told that if I “wanted to use the power, I would have to pay GBP 5 for using the power”.  I asked why??? They claimed that it was because staff from the ships abused the “offer of free Wifi”.   I said that was bit like offering free water but charging GDP 5 for the use of a glass.  They did not seem amused.

Still in my ‘domestic’ mood, I went to Tescos and bought some salmon and salad.  I cooked the salmon in  the hostel downed by a local ale and some Chilean wine.

Day 3

I decided not to ride the bike this day.  I walked into town and found a place called the Reel.  It was an interesting mixture of a bar, restaurant, café and music school.  It is staff by some seriously good looking waitresses.

It decided to take a Facebook friend’s advice and took a bus to the Standing Stones of Stenness and the Ring o’ Brodgar.  Unlike Stonehenge both sites are easily accessible and free.  There is also an archeological dig nearby.

http://www.orkneyjar.com/history/standingstones/

I returned to  the Reel in time for a couple of beers before it closed at 6.00 p.m.  Another patron was bloke from Adelaide. He told me that he was married to an Orcadian.  She convinced him to return to the Orkneys for “short stay”.  This has turned out to be 3 years.  He told me that this was 2 and ½ years too long.  He teaches music, including at the Reel, and plays in local folk band.   He told me that the winters are very hard to cope with.  One thing pointed out was that there are no eves on the roofs.  This is because of the extreme winds.  It is apparently not uncommon buildings to be damaged by the wind.  If the roofs had eves they would be blown off.

I had dinner at Helgas a place recommended in the book I am reading of the ride.

When I returned to the hostel ran into a women that worked  at the Sydney Harbour Foreshore Authority.  I met her when I worked there in 2006.  She was on a trip through Scotland, Ireland and England with her twin sister.  They were born in Kurri Kurri and the sister lives in Woy Woy and they are twins – ‘ what the?’ ,’ what the?’.  They are classics.

Day 4

Decided to get back on the bike and ride to the Orkney Brewery.  Brewing is not a traditional industry on the island.  They do, however, make a reasonable drop.   The barley comes from Lancashire.  The staff at the brewery were very friendly and seemed interested in my trip.  They were very keen to take my photo.  I guess they don’t get too many visitors.

I returned to Kirkwall via  Stromness.  It made Kirkwall look colourful.

I had dinner at  Helgas again.

By the time I made my way to the ferry terminal for the ferry to the Shetlands it was freezing.

I boarded ferry at 11.00 p.m. and settled into a ‘ sleeping pod’ which is a bit like those used on aircraft (If you are willing to travel 1^st or Business).   A bloke a few rows away was snoring so loudly. I think he managed to keep the whole ship awake, let alone those in the sleeping pod section.

The ferry travels very slowly so it arrives in the Lerwick at around 7.00 a.m.

Flickr Link

http://flic.kr/s/aHsjHj9yA1

Garmin Link

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/349096355