ITALY

ITALY

Hello everyone we are finally in Italy,

We went back to Split to catch a ferry to Ancona in Italy!!!!! We had uncomfortable beds and me and Billie thought we were going to fall off the two top bunks.

When in Ancona we dumped our luggage. (Not on the streets, in the luggage rack) we wanted to go to the cathedral, well mum and dad wanted to. But that got too hard (yes) we didn't get of at the right bus stop then when we did would have had to wait about 30 minutes and we had to catch a train in 50 minutes.

We got on the train safely and we went to VENICE it is soooooo cool but everything is sooooooo expensive.

 

 

 

 

And wait for it, we went on a gondola it was very pretty an amazing. Did you know that all first floors a abandon because they flood!!! Billie thought it was funny when the gondolier had to duck to get under the bridge. You can easily get lost down little side streets. Even whith a map. We did.

 

 

We then caught a train to milan ''the shopping city'' mum loved it but Billie and I thought it was boring we hate shopping though mum and I spent almost $300 on new water proof boots. (not each)

One night we went to get home but our train line was on strike and we had to wait 30 minutes for a taxi because they were so busy with the strike. Dad picked up a guitar!!!

We picked up another car and drove to mongedoro (in emelio romano) where we had a place where we went horse riding!

 

It was the best feeling to go riding again. At the place we were staying they set up archery for us. Mum was the best and me and Billie were terrible. Dad lost three arrows in the bush but we found them.

 

 

 

 

We also rode a donkey called Elnestro

 

 

 

 

We then went to monterpulciano but more about that next time.

Written by Jessie

By Jess and Bill

 

Moooo

 

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Blog 8 - ...and breathe...

Blog 8 - ...and breathe...

Ciao from Italy everyone!! Three months in and time for, as the Amazing Race would say, a mandatory rest period. We are in Montepulciano, in the Tuscan countryside, living the dream and reinforcing the stereotype. We arrived a few days ago to piercing blue sky and sunshine and an amazing view from our apartment stretching for miles over the ploughed fields...and this morning we couldn't see further than 5 metres as the fog had rolled in. It rolled on about 4pm...fog likes to hang around.

We are here for a month in an apartment that is cosy and rustic (read that however you like), but the town itself is sublime.

(Sunset Montepulciano)

So anyway, speaking of Bosnia Herzegovina as we weren't...

Mostar was quite a place and we feel lucky to have experienced it the way we did. We saw the beauty of the bridge as discussed in the last blog, but we shared an experience with the hostel owner we won't ever forget. We spent a day with another Australian couple and Miran (owner of Hostel Miran...I know, surprising) who drove us around Mostar and parts of Herzegovina. We visited Počitelj, with its old ruins, and waterfalls in the Neretva Valley equally as nice as Plitviče Lakes, only with no tourists. We went to the sheer bizarro-world that is Medugorije. Thirty odd years ago, five kids got lost in the hills near the city, and apparently Mary came to them and said "Hi, I live here. Just head down the hill and you'll be right, tell them I said hi". (I'm giving you the wikipedia-esque version). Well they got back to town and told the people what had happened, and now it is an absolute Mecca (okay that's a terribly inappropriate choice of metaphor) for Christians all over Europe to come, pray, buy a plastic rosary or key chain or t-shirt (my favourite had Jesus, arms out on the cross with a caption "I love you this much", I kid you not!).

(Mostar -the Bridge)

(...and the bullet holes)

We then dodged and left the scores of buses and went on to Blagaj to a dervish house (as in the whirling dervishes - and Irma that means I tick off everything you said I should see!!!)

(Aw, noice!)

But after that, on a more serious note, we wound our way up the hill behind Mostar to the front lines of the 90's war. We stood in the Bosnian bunkers, we picked up bits of shrapnel and bullet shells, we saw where the Serbian army were placed. Miran told us his story, how as a 15 year old he would climb the hill from Mostar to the front line asking for food from the sympathetic Serbian troops, even trying to negotiate weapons for soldiers in Mostar. He told us of neighbours meeting each other as enemies in the trenches, he described (as best he could) the three way struggle between the Croatian, Serbian and Bosnian forces. Later he showed us home movies of his family sitting in the house we were sitting in, chatting, as rifle fire and mortar shells whirred around them. Footage of his grandfather talking to camera, and who died two weeks after it was filmed from a sniper bullet, was hard to watch.

There are a lot of reasons why we wanted to take this trip as a family and this in a way was one of them. The chance to meet Miran and for him to share his and his family's story with us has made us all the richer because of it. I won't forget it.

(Bosnian bunker and no mans land)

On to Split...again. Surprisingly not unlike the way it was when we were there a few weeks earlier. We washed, we skyped, weather wasn't great. We did have a great day on the island of Brač, where we hired bikes and pedalled around parts of the island. One of the few islands that we could actually get to. Much of Croatia, indeed much of Europe, tends to put the shutters down after the 1st of October. Ferries either stop or go very rarely, and we've had several instances of finding literally nowhere to eat! But I think even the post office serves beer, so that was okay!

(Supetar, port of Brač)

(Sunset over Brač)

Then we jumped on an overnight ferry that smoothly lulled us across the Adriatic from Split to Ancona and here we are in Italy!

Spent about three hours in Ancona, enough time I thought to scream up to the cool cathedral on the hill. Sadly the public transport gods again conspired against us. Shouldn't ve said what I said about Medugorije...

Then on to my new pick for BEST CITY IN THE WORLD!!! Not the cheapest or most liveable, not easiest to get around, certainly not the least smelly, but VENICE is simply amazing. I loved it from the minute I fell off the train lugging my 40kg backpack. Kids were whining...but it didn't matter because we were in Venice!

 

(Aspects of Venice)

Our apartment was in a great spot, only 500 meters from St Marks square...or 200 meters if you go the right way first time. Everywhere you looked was a photo opportunity and every time of the day provided a different nuance of light, shade and colour, be it an alleyway or the Grand Canal. St Marks square and the Riva outside it were fascinating for its insane amount of tourists (yes yes, I'm a tourist too...) and vendors selling crap, but there were paths you could walk where you wouldn't see another soul for 10 minutes.

 

Appropriately, we ate pizza and gelati. Billie ate Quattro Formaggi (4 cheeses) pizza till her nose bled...no, really. We drank cappuccinos and hot chocolate that was like syrup. We remortgaged the house and went on a gondola ride. It was early morning, city was waking up, sun was out taking some of the chill off the day. I'd tell you it wasn't worth it, but I'd be lying.

 

We spent two days at the Venice Biennale. Putting it simply, it's an art exhibition where countries exhibit work (or works) from an artist (or artists) in some of the beautiful parks and buildings around Venice. The works ranged from the beautiful and clever (New Zealand and Bahamas, well done you - got the CVDB votes) to the downright freaking odd (hello...Romania). It was a chance for the girls to reassess what they thought art was...and then decide that much of what there was wasn't actually art!!! Here's a snapshot, with no explanations...wouldn't want to make it easy for you!

(Latvia -the tree swings up and down...that ought to help...)

(New Zealand - put Oz to shame!)

(Russia - he's shelling peanuts and eating them...of course he is!)

(Romania - more performance art)

(Part of the Netherlands exhibit)

We've been to lots of cities and towns, but Venice was honestly the first I felt sad about leaving. But leave we did, and on we went by train to Milan. Ironically one of the goals was to see daVinci's Last Supper, and if we were planning to visit in early 2014, that probably would have worked out fine, what with the six week waiting list for tickets and all...

So we went to the Duomo instead and walked on the top of the roof. That was cool. The building is very ornate and Renae questioned what the son of a carpenter would think of it. We shopped, as you apparently do in Milan. There were a million shoe shops. Renae was in heaven, I was in one of the seven levels of hell so dragged the girls with me and went off to buy a guitar!!! Milan was underwhelming. (Sorry Milan, I know you spoke highly of the Carolin Vandenbergs, let's just be friends!)

 

And now we have a car again. It's a Peugeot...its a manual...it has no GPS...

We spent three days in the region of Emilia-Romagno, home of bolognese sauce, Parmesan cheese, Parma ham...all those disgusting things! After deciding that eating at the third-best restaurant in the world (in Modena) was never going to work with kids (expensive, and they were likely to turn their noses up at candied calf tongue with aniseed foam and ask for chicken nuggets), we booked a farm stay just out of a town called Monghidoro.

It had horse riding and archery, so I reckon we have brownie points with the kids for a while. The owners also ran a working farm 200m up the road, and we had a chance to watch them milk and learn about their lives too. The patriarch of the family invited us in and showed us photos of his family. Luckily one of the family members could interpret, but there was lots of smiling and gesturing anyway! We have been fortunate to meet so many kind and generous people so far.

And then we drove to where we are now, and where we'll be for nearly a month. Kids have done homework every day, and again, we have clean clothes. Car is parked, belongings are put into drawers (it's amazing how good that feels!). Doing overnighter to Florence next week (to go to the Uffizi and see that big statue guy with the big doodle...), and day trips to San Gimingnano, Siena, Pisa, and San Marcello Pistoese where my grandfather was shot down in WW2. On the quest to find a propellor!!

Jessie's done all the Harry Potters now and looking for a new challenge (I'm thinking Chronicles of Narnia). Billies got a bit of a natural flair for language, and we have found a new strategy to get her eating anything other than chocolate and cheese...blindfolding!

Renae plans to do an Italian language course (vital, as she collared a local holding her phrase book wanting to ask where the post office was. Confused looks. Took Jessie to casually mention to her that she was asking in Polish...).

And I have a guitar now, and a bad haircut. Interesting experience trying to convey what you want done when you speak very little Italian and they speak no English. But hey, we all know the difference between a bad haircut and a good one...

Lots of love to all. RIP Peggo the Bee.

Arrivederci from the EuropeanCaravans

 

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Blog 7 - posting from the war zone

Blog 7 - posting from the war zone...

 

Hi everyone, welcome to Blog 7. I'm writing from Bosnia&Herzegovina from a town called Mostar, where we are staying for three nights. Mostar has an old city with a beautiful bridge (Unesco Heritage Listing number 15 since we started!) that was bombed and destroyed during the '90s conflict (the footage of this was surprisingly heartbreaking, considering the affection for which this bridge was held) and rebuild in the '00s. It has beautiful bazaars with interesting knick-knacks. (Renae and i still working out how to ship glassware back to Australia and have it in one piece when we return!) It also has bullet and mortar holes in many of the buildings, cemeteries with the only occupants men who died in 1993-95, and graffiti and signs scattered around the city saying "never forget". Physical and emotional scars on display. Photos next blog..

Last blog we were in Zagreb, but promised some more photos of our time in Istria...so here they are!!!

(Rovinj-Venice of Istria)

(Courtyard in Rovinj)

(...and the view from the church tower)

(Morovun)

(And our wonderful hosts, Rade and Sonja)

I loved Zagreb. Really loved it. It may have something to do with our lodgings, a spacious apartment with high ceilings that looked across to the cathedral and a 30second walk down to Tkalčićeva street, the coolest place in Zagreb for a drink...which we did once or twice...a day...!! But there was a simplicity and lack of pretension to the place a well. It wasn't crowded, it felt bright and fresh. We visited the Gallery of Croatian Naive art, that even the kids enjoyed (I know that sounds a bit desperate, but if the kids walk out of a place that we have basically dragged them to saying they liked it, we feel a bit better about it!!!). We checked out the remarkably unique "Museum of Broken Relationships", where people around the world provide an object and a story that describes the end of their relationship. It was somewhat depressing, slightly galvanising for Renae and I (though we did try to work out what we'd send in!)...it almost worked.

 

 

 

Kids and Renae had a day looking at the Zagreb Zoo zebras...actually I don't know if there were zebras there, I just wanted to write that...while I sent 87 emails with attachments for my application to work in the UK. Still not over the line though!

Had some great meals...meat meat meat...and Plavac and Graševina wine. And my favourite beer was everywhere. So what's not to love!!!

(Zagreb, main square)

 

(Awww, drinks in Tkalčićeva St)

(Sunset over Zagreb)

After a frantic dash to the station to catch a 6.30am train, the Carolinvandenbergs meandered their way from the Croatian capital, to Split, its second biggest city. We knew only a little of Split, thinking it would be just a pitstop on the way down to Dubrovnik, and it's fair to say the outer suburbs are not overly photogenic. But once you elbow past the hundreds of street vendors trying to offer you fridge magnets, and the thousands of tourists pouring off the cruise liners (that I'm sure were the vessels used at the end of the film "2012"!), Split is absolutely charming.

(Palace of Diocletian)

(Boulevarde, remarkably empty...extremely rare!)

(Selfie - Split by night)

We had good weather, and the seaside promenade was bathed in light, sun sparkling off the water. The "old city" here is the palace of the Roman Emperor Diocletian, and much of it is still intact. It is strange seeing people sitting and balancing their coffee cups on 2000 year old columns.

The walking tour was okay, the guide not blessed with a voice that carried beyond the first tier of listeners, and I felt for my hearing impaired clients...which could have been most of the rest of the people in the walking group. They were shooting Game of Thrones in Split, and we elbowed about thirty semi-clad, completely ripped extras out of the way. Wasn't allowed to take photos of them, so apologies to the ladies (and gents) that wanted a pic.

Another good apartment with SkyChannels, meaning we could get up super early with cider and hotdogs to watch Hawks prove me wrong and take the premiership. We hired bikes (I ran), we swam, pleased that we still could in late September. And we had an evening drink on the top of the hill. Here's a picture! We're actually going back to Split as our last Croatian port of call...stay tuned!

 

And then we thought, why not catch a bus? Actually we had no choice as Dubrovnik has no train station. So off we went on what we thought was a 2.25hr trip along the coast, but after what was either "Marc can't read the schedule properly" or "Split tourism can't upate their roster" (jury's out which one it is)...6 hours later we arrived! To be fair, the Dalmatian coastline is the most spectacular I have ever seen, and was worth the coastal option.

Dubrovnik! Unlike anywhere you will EVER go. It's a walled city, nearly completely intact (and/or sensitively renovated) buffeted against the Adriatic. Pristine, tree lined islands dot themselves along the coast. It is simply beautiful.

(Dubrovnik - view from our apartment)

Our apartment was one example of what I assume many locals do during high (and high-ish) season, which is rent out their houses and live in a sort of granny flat. The house was clean, big enough for us and solely worth it for the morning and night view looking down at the old city.

(View from the Pile Gate entrance)

So in the old city we walked around and looked at shops, had coffee and icecream, swam in the sea (just down the steps and you fell into the Adriatic), had a great drink at a bar called Buže which was on the rocks out side the walls where we watched the sun go down and tried not to think about the fact that the drinks were triple-priced.

(Main square at night)

The highlight was the walk around the walls where everywhere you stood at every different time of day provided a slightly different perspective and nuance of the city. If you jogged the walls (but why would you) it would take about 10 minutes. Took us 90...

 

 

(Sunset from the wall)

Bryan Ferry played a free concert the second night we were there and we strategically booked a restaurant for dinner so as to get a good view. Then it rained...and rained...and rained...and thundered...and aimed some more! Streets were underwater, we ate (outside but undercover) with our feet on the table legs! But the show went on...an hour late. Bryan looked tired and old, but still smooth and his voice was velvety

We up and visited a whole 'nother country - Montenegro! - just an hour away from Dubrovnik. The tour guide, who was great and kept calling us "my dear guests" gave us an insight about its history. Turns out Billie is one day older than Montenegro, which gained independence from Serbia on 3/6/06. Billie gained independence from Renae on 2/6/06!

We visited Kotor, another beautiful walled city. St Stefan, now an outrageously expensive holiday resort (just sitting on the beach costs 50€/day, Angelina Jolie goes there!), and Budva...which I was a bit indifferent about. Amazing what poor service can do as far as your perceptions of a place! We met two really lovely ladies from Ottawa (hi if you're reading!!)...and got our passport stamped as another country on our journey...

(Kotor - walls go all the way up the hill)

(St Stefan)

And yes, there was washing, wifi, homework, meltdowns. Some things stay the same, just with different currency conversions.

Bus to Mostar and here we are. Off to do some afternoon bargaining and maybe an early (and quite cheap) dinner. Wishing everyone good health and good times. Replying to the blog is ridiculously complex (involves registering/creating a gmail account), so feel free to just send us an email to our normal email marcandrenae@bigpond.com.

Bye for now from the Europeancaravans!

 

 

 

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