Bonjour mes amis

Welcome back everyone!

You might want to make a coffee, take a quick toilet break and settle in nice and comfortably because, unlike my other blogs, this one could be a bit long!

If I recall correctly, our last blog was brought to you from the shores of the Costa Brava - sitting by the pool and looking out over the virgin like white beaches, emerald and jade green seas, basking in the glorious sunlight and pontification of the many difficult issues that lay ahead of us - what would we select from the menu for dinner that evening; should we stroll barefoot and care free on the sand whilst the waves lap the shore prior to reposing for the evening; would a midnight swim in the Olympic pool followed by a relaxing spa in the Jacuzzi prepare us for the many challenges that lay ahead in days to come - ah, the stress of it all.

Needless to say, rather than try and choose one specific activity, we decided to indulge in them all however, rest assured you were all on our minds the whole time!

The following morning saw another magnificent day present itself so after a hearty breakfast of cafe con leche (coffee with milk), dos premier ( 2 sweet pastries) and an accompanying mouth freshener of agua con gas (sparkling mineral water), we packed up the camper and undertook the next leg of our Spanish adventure - south to Barcelona.

Little legs armed herself with the essential items all good navigators require:

1. Her trusty street directory (the one totally written in German)
   
2. An out of date map of Europe I borrowed from my Dad which is so old it shows Italy in the shape of a "sensible shoe" rather than the "boot" we all now recognise
   
3. A small spinning world globe we acquired in an antique shop along the way (we actually have it mounted on the dashboard of the motor home and tell people it is the latest in Australian GPS units and that you turn it on simply by spinning it!!)
   

3 hours and 250 klms later, we arrived in the thriving metropolis of Barcelona which, for those rare few who are not familiar with the history of the beautiful town:

1. is the home of the still occupied and used Monestir de Pedralbes (a monastery) which was founded in 1326 by Queen Elisenda de Montcada
   
2. was the setting for the 1888 Universal Exhibition
   
3. houses the magnificent Royal Palace built for King Alfonso XIII in 1924,
   
4. hosted the 1992 Olympic Games
   
5. hosted the 2004 Universal Forum of Culture.
   

We secured accommodation at a camping park called the 3 Estrellas (which means 3 stars - 2 less than Jane normally likes to stay at) and after a quick stroll and familiarisation with the surroundings, we dined within the on-site restaurant and had an early night. The following morning, we jumped on an early bus which took us straight into the heart of Barcelona, the Placa de Catalunya. This is a very large plaze within the centre of town and from the moment we arrived, Jane and I were overcome by the sheer size of this City.

As has become our practice, we secured two tickets on the "hop on - hop off" bus trip with the Barcelona Bus Turistic company (19 Euros each) and off we went.

Through sheer good luck, as evidenced within one of the photographs I have attached, we were on the same bus as Micheal Jackson and his stunt double so we got to rub shoulders with a true superstar - this trip looked liked being a "thriller" right from the word go!

We were shown highlights of this beautiful city including the Kings Palace which really must be seen to be appreciated. It runs the entirety of a city block and is an imposing, yet grandiose building which still gets used by the Royal family of Spain for official receptions. Outside of those occasions, the Palace is open for visitors.

One of the most significant architects in Barcelona's (and in fact Spain's) history was a man named Antoni Gaudi. It is obvious from his work that he was well ahead of his time - evidenced by his avant garde desings which meld neo-gothic with contemporary style. His most famous work is a yet to be completed church named the Sagrada Familia. Work began on the project, under Gaudi's direction, in the late 19th Century and at the time of his death in 1926 (he was run over by a tram which, ironically, was named after him before it killed him) only one of the now erected 8 towers had been completed. The continuance of this strangely beautiful church is now funded by donations from visitors, tourists and the occasional philanthropist with an expected completion date of 2025. I have included a photo of this so you might get some sense of how totally radical Gaudi was in his vision of structures and design. The photo in question shows 4 towers with what appear to be bulbs on the top of each.

We also visited the home stadium of the Futbol Club Barcelona (Barcelona Soccer Club) which has been the home to players such as Kubala, Cruyff, Maradon and Ronaldinho. The Club was founded in 1899 and is Europes largest and most successful soccer team/club. As indicated in our previous blogs, Jane and I have now become avid soccer fans and Barcelona supporters to boot so for us, the visit to the Barcelona Stadium was akin to a Muslim visiting Mecca whilst undertaking the Haj.

Without going into every single detail of our tour, let me just say that the only way to really appreciate the size, the nature and the essence of Barcelona is to actually visit the place and immerse yourself in its pulse. It is vibrant, nostalgic, contemporary and historic all at the same time and any visit to this beautiful city would not be complete without a ride on the cable car which takes you to the very top of Barcelona's main "hill" which also houses a truly magnificent castle. This really was a highlight of the day's tour as it gave us an opportunity to conceptualise the places we had seen by bus during the day and geographically understand the layout of the city.

Barcelona does not have multiple high rise buildings as seen in Sydney however, it is such a large city, spread out over such a significant area, that it actually makes Sydney appear no more than a reasonable sized suburb. From its sea port, resplendent with both cruise ships and freight carriers, to its industrial areas on the outskirts of the city, to its many castles and churches, and finally to the hill overlooking the outlay of it all, Barcelona really is a city to behold.

We finished the day with an authentic Paella each, mine being Pollo (chicken) and Jane have mixte (seafood and meat) and then walked off dinner with a stroll down Barcelona's most famous street, La Rambla (which should be Spanish for "the world's noisiest and most lively street on earth"). Here we were entertained by street performers, had the opportunity to buy everything ranging from ferrets, turtles, birds and chickens to flowers, lingerie, souvenirs and food. Just walking down this street provided the opportunity to absorb the colour, the texture and the kaleidoscope of humanity that confronts you in all directions. We both loved the experience and after a couple of hours it was obvious to me that those little legs were getting tired (the knee "wobble" has become a dead give away) so we hopped on the bus and headed back to the camping park for another good nights sleep.

We were on the road by 9.30am the next day, faced with a 628 klm drive from Barcelona to Madrid via Zaragoza. The drive from Barcelona to Madrid provided us with some of the most varied landscapes we have seen to date. Lush fields supporting various crops and herds of grazing animals were interspersed with vast patches of arid tundra and desert like sand. Between Zaragoza and Madrid, I saw areas of the country which looked like a set from some Western movie - plateau's and mesa's which could have been the back drop to any episone of Bonanza, High Chaperal or The Big Valley (Barbara Stanwyck included!)

Whilst driving through these areas, I recalled early westerns I had watched with my dad and thought of numerous scenes involving shoot outs between John Wayne, Audy Murphy and countless hordes of Apache, Sioux and Navaho indians - such was the appearance of these particular cliffs and rugged earthen terrain. In fact, during our subsequent visit to Madrid we befriended a couple of people from Arizona and I believe that were they to have driven to the places we had just driven through, they may have mistakenly believed they had arrived back home in the United States.

I have included a photo illustrating what I refer to about the "western" look of the country. The most striking feature of the landscape was the absolute delineation between the lushness and the bareness of the country - almost as if the hand of God had drawn a line in the dirt and where one ceased, the other commenced.

We arrived in Madrid and secured accommodation in a camping park named Alpha Madrid which, strange as it may sound, was located within an Industrial Estate 12 klms outside the City of Madrid in a town named Getafe. We set up our motor home in a quiet and reasonably secluded area and, on our arrival, noted that two fold up chairs and a fold up table stood in the middle of the camping plot next to ours.

As seasoned motor home travellers, we immediately recognised these symbols for what they were - universally recognisable indicators that others had already secured that particular plot and were staking it as their own whilst absent - what we in Australia refer to as having "dibs" on the spot. A quick piece of invaluable advice here for any aspiring motor homers - it is essential that these sorts of signs are noted and respected by all within the motor home fraternity, lest someone relieve themselves into your water tank during the night as retaliation for any disrespect shown.

About an hour later, a motor home pulled up and backed into the spot where the chairs and table had been. Before long, we came to meet with the occupants, two absolutely fantastic retired specialist surgeons from Italy who take breaks from their respective wives and families and travel together around Europe for a couple of weeks to a month at a time.

Alessio and Fabio were in their late 60's, had both known each other for 35 years through working in the same hospital yet, prior to each suffering major heart attacks, had not really had much to do with each other. Circumstances brought them together and they became close friends - in fact amongst their respective families and friends they are known as the Amici de Cuore (friends of the Heart) due to the medical conditions that caused their mateship to begin.

Whilst both had a rudimentary grasp of the English language, the time we spent with these guys was the most outrageous, educative, informative and good plain old fun that we have had so far on this trip. Through their efforts, and patience, my Italian has improved no end (as has Jane's for that matter) and their English now includes the words "you little beauty", "fan-bloody-tastic" and "Wodonga" - would love to be a fly on the wall to hear how those three rippers get used in a sentence!!!

We were invited to have dinner with the guys, which Fabio offered to cook, and we feasted that evening on fresh crusty bread, spaghetti with vongole (pippi's), pomodore and chiphola (tomato's and onions) done in rock salt and pure olive oil, washed down with Portugese red wine and finished with nips of straight vodka - an unusual combination I must admit however, the circumstances and surroundings were such that it all seemed perfectly natural at the time and even now, whilst writing this blog entry, I find myself smiling in recalling that first night together with those guys.

We had a truly memorable evening and at one point during the night, I found out that Fabio actually came from an area of Italy called Le Marche which is the same area my Dad comes from. Obviously, this was a sign from the heavens that Dad and Fabio needed to speak to each other so I duly rang Dad (4.45am Sydney time - sorry mate) to put them in touch.

My reasoning for doing so was simple enough - any two people coming from the same country MUST know each other therefore it was essential that I facilitate their re-union. As it turned out, and very much to my surprise, Fabio and Dad didn't know each other however, being Italians, it didn't take long before there was frenetic hand gesturing and theatrics with the conversation revolving around some incredibly serious topics - their home towns, wine and women!

I was eventually handed back the phone and got the impression that Dad actually enjoyed the opportunity to speak to a fellow country man who was familiar with his local area, despite the ungodly hour chosen to do so. Dad wasn't the only one having a good time - Jane seemed to really enjoy herself and both Alessio and Fabio showed Jane immense respect by including her in all our conversations and directing specific questions and comments to her - blissfully unaware that they did so in Italian and obviously took Jane's head nodding as confirmation that she spoke fluent Italian and was in total agreement with their opinions on the subjects being discussed.

Prior to calling it a night, we agreed we would travel into Madrid together in the morning as the trip into town involved a bus trip to a town named Legazpi, then a train trip into the Puerta del Sol - the centre of Madrid city.

Fabio and Alessio were history and art buffs and had a specific interest in the Museums and Galleries whereas Jane and I were keen to get onto a "ho on - hop off" bus and see the sites. We agreed to meet up with the guys later that night back at the camp for another communal dinner and with that, we headed off for a cafe con leche and a dolce (sweet) before taking in the sites of Madrid.

As first time travellers to Madrid, the city's architecture and history are impressive however, is similar to some parts of both Paris and London. Madrid is a current candidate city for the 2016 Olympic Games therefore, is undergoing a major facelift. Everywhere we went, there were obvious signs of either new construction or upgrading of existing facilities including plumbing, electricity and road transportation.

For these reasons, we probably saw much more of Madrid that is normally seen by tourists on buses as we were continually diverted around road workds and the like. We visited the Fubol Club Madrid - the home ground of Real Madrid and until recently the the team for which David Beckham played for (as committed Barcelona soccer supporters, neither Jane nor I enjoyed this bit of the tour. In fact, were we French, we would have spit on the ground in front of the Stadium!!)

We saw all the usual tourist sites and more however, we weren't overly fussed on the place. Madrid is old and tired and, perhaps because of all the work currently underway, seems disjointed. It does have significant history and wonderful examples of early Spanish architecture and culture yet neither one of us would rush back here for another visit (unless it was on the way to a Barcelona soccer match or a weeks holiday at the Costa Brava!).

We returned by bus/train to our camp and sure enough, Alessio and Fabio were hard at it preparing the evenings dinner of pasta with Siciliana sugo (sauce made up of olives, spices, tomato's and various other things best left unsaid) steak marinated in lemon juice and rock salt, tomato's and onions in oil and salt, fresh bread and this time washed down with a couple of bottles of Sangre de Torro (Blood of Bulls) which is a particularly well known Spanish wine that Jane and I had picked up on the way home as a "thank you" gesture for the guys.

As per the previous night, it was another occasion of laughter, of serious discussions concerning the rise and further rise of Bernasconi as the President of Italy, the unification of various political parties and parts of the Communist Party within the current Italian Government, the role of the mafia in politics, both historically and in a more contemporary setting, and of course the inevitable debate about whether Italian women are the most beautiful in the world. Fabio and Alession did acknowledge that Jane gave their theory a real run for its money - Fabio describing Jane as a "woman of great mystery"

All in all, after much wine, hand gesturing and laughter, we finally called it a night just after midnight - Jane and I laying in bed and reflecting on how fortunate we had beeen to have met such great people and and very appreciative of the way in which they had "adopted" us into their trip. We had taken no end of photos of each other, enchanged email addresses, phone numbers and home address details with promises that we would look each other up - whether the guys ever found themselves in Australia or were Jane and I to find ourselves in their particular towns during our forthcoming tour of Italy with Grahame and Lone Langford.

We travelled via freeways through Burgos and as could be expected, travel on freeways in this part of the country is accompanied by splendid scenery of lush fields as far as the eye can see. One thing that has struck both Jane and I is the vast fields of electricity generating wind mills we have seen throughout rural areas of Spain and France. Both countries seem to have adopted eco-energy in a very committed manner and utilise naturally windy areas for maximum benefit.

We arrived in a small coastal town named Zarautz which is a fishing village, much like that previously described in our blog concerning the town of Playas Les Flot. Accommodation for "camping cars" wasn't available so we drove on and went through towns such as Donastia San Sebastian, St. Jean de Luz, Biarritz and finally settled in a town named Lebenne which saw us cross the Spanish border and once again enter the land of phlegm and "barkers eggs".

On arrival, we set up camp and cooked up a dish of pasta followed by a lovely after dinner walk amongst the trees and then turned in for an early night after a long day behind the wheel. We had seen some great sights within the inland of Spain yet Jane and I always feel more at home when we find ourselves near the ocean and see beaches and seagulls.

We left Lebenne the next morning with the intention of driving no more than 3 hours and seeing where that would take us. Along the way, we pulled into a beach side town named Hossigor which immediatelyt gave the impression of an "up market" surf village. Despite the locals wearing board shorts, caps and t-shirts, these were accessorised with heavy gold necklaces, earrings and designer sunglasses.

We had cafe crema et croissants (we are back in France after all) and I had the chance to chat to a couple of local police who were extremely friendly and willing to assist with directions. It was obvious by their nature and their use of the English language that they were used to dealing with tourists. As you can see in the attached photo, I also got to go on motorcycle patrol with the local cops although I must say I prefer my Harley or even the BMW's we use at home rather than the bikes used by the French Police.

Whilst in Hossigor, we also dropped into the local Tourism office (a must for travelling in rural/regional Francew) as they provided detailed maps of local regions and sound advice in relation to places to see and to avoid. Jane had located information in one of our camping books on a camping ground in the Vielle-St. Girons area of the Bordeaux/Bayonne Region and we were provided with information about the best way to get there and distances etc.

Within an hour, we had arrived at Le Col Vert and it was everything written about it and more. This was a great camping park located on the banks of the Etang de Leon (Lake Leon) and surrounded by surfing beaches and beautifully unspoilt pine forests. The camp houses over 800 sites which accomodate tents, camping cars (motor homes) and caravans together with numerous on site bungalows available for hire. There were 3 large swimming pools, a heated pool, 2 spas and vast areas surrounding same to simply sunbathe and think about work!

After checking in and setting up, we hit the pool and spent the whole day sunbathing with the tepid waters of Etang de Leon flowing and ebbing nearby. Dinner at a nearby restaurant consisted of two of the biggest pizzas Jane and I had ever seen, Jane's being a combination of Jambon (cured meats) and mine being seafood.

Fully feted, we walked back to our motor home escorted by the sprinkle of evening rain. Once in bed, we drifted off to sleep listening to the rythmic repertoire of rain drops on the motor home roof and silhouetted by the illumination of an evening moon shining through our perspex skylights.

The following morning saw a day of continued rain and after attending to a 6am local time (2pm Sydney time) conference call regarding uni assignments, I woke Jane and we spent the day occupying ourselves with washing, cleaning the motor home and reviewing our maps to determine our next port of call.

Dinner that night was again at the nearby cafe - Jane once again opting for a pizza, this time consisting of Chorizo (a spicy spanish sausage) and I chose a dish of Lomo (pork fillets) accompanied by a light green salad drizzled with Balsamic vinegar and red wine. A quick walk home and another night of serenaded slumber thanks to the light rain that continued to fall.

This morning, we had an unusually late sleep in, not waking until 7.45am and after attending to ablutions, packed up and after leaving Le Col Vert, passed through Mimizan, Roquefort, Captieux and Langon, finally arriving at a small town named Saint-Emilion. This place was recommended to us by Kate Spargo, a friend of ours from Albury, who had visited here a number of years ago and declared it her favourite place in France.

Saint-Emilion is a picturesque medieval town, built on a hill with steep and narrow streets. We arrived at our accomodation, a camping park named Domaine de la Barbanne, which is occupied by at least 15 other motor homes, most of which are occuped by tourists from Great Britain doing a French wine tour.

We have booked the 10am shuttle bus into the village tomorrow morning and intend to take one of the guided tours up and down the tertres and escalletes (local name for the narrow cobblestone streets at a very steept angle) and also the below ground tour of the catacombs, the Hermitage, the Chapelle de la Trinite' and the Monloithic Church. No doubt these will form part of the commentary in our next blog.

Tonight, we dine indoors and fine ourselves surrounded by vast vineyards, lush landscapes and at least 20 bloody pommies all of whom are over lubricated by fine french wine and feel the need to see who can talk louder than the next bloke. Wouldn't mind so much if they actually said something that had value!!

Kid and Lone Langford - not long now and we are looking forward to catching up with you in Rome soon.

Good health to all our families and friends - please continue to post comments as we love reading your views and it keeps us up to date with what is going on at home.

Love to all

Fiffi and Pierre (alias Little Legs and Rick)