Posts Tagged With: travel

KRISTIANSAND

The wind was brisk, the sky sunny,and the waters blue as we entered Kristiansand harbour this morning. We ate breakfast and headed into town. Another ship 15 times the size of ours was also in town, and as we walked off our ship we encountered an avalanche of passengers, mostly from the UK on their Easter break, heading in the same direction.

In Kristiansand we encountered a delight – a free organ and piano recital  at the cathedral. The acoustics were superb in the wood lined  sanctuary. After an opening prayer, we were introduced to hymns and melodies of Norwegian origin. The organist also sang acapella – her voice ringing clearly.  My heart was lifted up by this praise to God. One wonders if other tourists were as affected as I was. The gospel shone clearly for half an hour.

After we left, the need for the gospel was also clearly on display. As we walked through the town we encountered, what seemed like drug affected people abusing each other and those, like us, who crossed their paths.

Currently I am sitting in the lounge of our ship watching containers being loaded and unloaded. The joy of music, the tragedy of drugs – but in the harbour life goes on.

Kristiansand Cathedral
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Sighisoara

We are in the middle of Romania in the Transylvania region during a cultural festival. Sighisoara is a town where ethnicities and religions collide. Lutheran, Orthodox, Catholic, Jew and Muslim are all part of the mix.

The incongruity is that blaring over the speaker at our campsite swimming pool is a collection of American musical rubbish.

It is a privilege to be in a place where history has been made in the furnace of conflict and interaction. At least this weekend’s festival is an intercultural affair. Every group is invited to be part of the presentation. We attended a concert in which Hungarians in Romania, Jews as well as Romanians took part. Over the week many more ethnic groups had been involved. 

From a religious perspective the Lutheran church is part of the long Saxon presence in this area. The German Catholics converted to Lutheranism at the time of the Reformation. The Orthodox church represents the Hellenic and the Catholic Church has been a presence for even longer. The Jews, of course, have even wandering this part of the world for 2000 years.

It has been an eye opener to come here and learn more about a part of the world I had known so little about.

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Heading East

After picking up our car in Lyon, we have been heading east. First a campsite in the  south of lake Geneva and then two nights just south of Zurich. Here we made contact with two couples who are friends with one of our daughters. For two nights we were regaled by genuine and near genuine Swiss!

After a hair raising trip through the Austrian Alps we camped at Unterpefuss. The trip though the alps was spectacular. One can only imagine what it is like in winter. Jagged rocks, mountainous crags, winding roads and all the while, spectacular views made this a memorable journey. 

Now we are headed for Wien and Bratislava- these capitals are very close.

Wien/Vienna was flooded with tourists. This always makes me uncomfortable as I feel it is a huge imposition on the local population. Bratislava was more low key. There were tourists but they weren’t overwhelming the city. We loved the castle and churches as well as the architecture of the old town. The castle displayed the history of Slovakia in a very engaging manner.

We travelled further east to Orsava Castle. The countryside is beautiful but even the back roads are clogged with semi trailers. While in this area we also travelled to Krakow to visit the salt mines at Wieliczka. Tourism on a large scale again. The mines were fascinating but unfortunately our guide seemed bored with the whole task and her English was difficult to understand. The group behind us had a guide who was dramatic, enthused and engaged with his followers.

We are now heading south through Hungary to Romania.

The castle Bratislava
St Martin’s Bratislava
Orsava Castle

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Reflections on our travels

We are getting close to the end of another trip around one of our favourite places – Spain. We have traveled over 6000 kms in 5 weeks. In our journey we have visited new places, like Ronda and Cartagena, and further explored some favourite haunts such as Granada, Cordoba and Valencia.

Once again we have been amazed and mesmerised by spectacular scenery, as well as being infatuated by its history and downright quirkiness. The coast around the north west corner is rugged and spectacular. From Gijon through to Fisterra the coastline is dramatic and rugged. But personally, I love the arid landscape of Extremadura, wondering how these people make a living off the land and remembering that many of the conquistadors came from this part of the world – probably already hardened by their environment.

In the south, steering clear of the tourist Meccas, there are amazing beaches stuck in tiny coves – and then there is the hinterland- a curse for truck drivers, but the mountains and canyons are spectacular.

The people understand very little English and our Spanish is equally poor, but apart from the odd deli assistant, they are always welcoming and friendly. A “hola” always gets a reply.

We visit many churches as we walk though towns and cities. Some are simple in their expression of Catholicism and some very ornate with square metres of gold leaf covering the ornaments. With every church we visit I sit and spend some time in prayer, praying for the congregation and its leaders.

Yet we are not uncritical. The omnipresent graffiti, even in some of the most dramatic and ancient settings, is deeply offensive and belittling of this amazing country and its history. And then there are moments walking around the cities when the smell of dog poo is overwhelming. There is the human contribution with the pools of urine against buildings every morning after a evening of drinking. Rubbish by the roadside and around towns is hard to ignore and the many decaying buildings left to rot in towns and cities is quite confronting. The lottery ticket hawkers are also tiresome. One thing that confronts me personally is the number of homeless people and beggars which makes me feel helpless and guilty. I have tried to engage with some of these struggling people on a number of occasions. In one situation the girl was clearly pregnant and simple, and I got the clear impression that someone had put her in the church doorway to use her to make money. On another occasion I engaged with a young man who was on the Camino without support. He spoke some English and it was clear there were other struggles going on. All I could give was some human contact, but on the whole, left feeling helpless.

We can become blind to the failures of our own culture and I am sure many Spaniards no longer see many of these eyesores.

At best, it is a reminder to me to look at my own country and society with a fresh and critical eye.

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Traditions

Tonight we were wandering past a 400 year old church in the town of Zafra in southern Spain. The church is a massive stone edifice with a large bell tower. It hovers over the town like a silent sentinel – well, not always silent as it rings the hours. The only other building that has stood so long is the Ducal palace. As we walked past on this chilly evening I wondered out loud to my wife what the church had witnessed in its time: the people simply going by on their mules, horses, carts or just by foot, the funerals, weddings and sacred celebrations, the battles like the civil war, the changes in society – it’s attitudes, values and priorities. All the while it has been there – largely unchanged.

We have come to live in a such a quick change throwaway society it is hard to imagine a time when values and traditions were held firmly and changed little over millennia. I am not arguing simply for tradition for traditions sake, and yet, there is a stability missing in our manic society that sorely needs pillars of truth, faith and solid traditions to underpin, or more correctly, replace our modern fragile facade. A facade, that seems to me at least, to be crumbling and unravelling.

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Camping Overseas

Recently someone asked us how we go camping overseas. All our camping gear fits into a suitcase. Tent, camping stove, mats, sleeping bags – all come in at 10 kgs. Plates and batteries for our headlights we pick up when we arrive.

Our philosophy is that we go overseas to see the sights, not to luxuriate in hotels. The cost of three nights camping is roughly equivalent to one night in moderately priced accommodation. We have done this from the Arctic Circle in Norway to the southern extremities of Tasmania.

The downside is that the weather can sometimes overwhelm us, or, as occurred recently, our trusty tent failed us and we were swamped in our tent on our first night in Spain. But Decathlon had a good range of tents and the new tent has already paid for itself.

The upside is priceless. We have camped in some of the most spectacular scenery imaginable. The list is long, here are some of the highlights: the Grand Canyon, the Lorelei rock overlooking the Rhine River, Hells Gates in Tasmania (Tassie has many), Gudvangen in Norway (again, like Tassie, many more), the Murray river, Torla in Spain, on the lakes or coast of Sweden …

There are times when we pike out, like the time when it rained for a week straight during a European Summer. When we got to Heidelberg, still raining, we opted for a cabin. Then there was the time in Cuenca when the campsite let us down and a local hotel offered us a special rate. Another time we just wanted to experience living in a Ducal palace so we did that in Zafra. Those two nights could have paid for 12 or more nights camping. But it was a special treat.

How long can we do this for? My wife has no problem sitting on the ground for long periods of time, whereas my back is starting to complain. A cheap chair from Decathlon might be the answer. But we both know that we will continue to do this as long as our bodies allow us too. Most friends, and certainly fellow campers, think we are as mad as cut snakes, but my wife doesn’t care what other people think and every year I am growing to be more like her.

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People Watching

Currently we are on the return journey back to Bergen after having made it all the way to Kirkenes. The boat we are on is essentially a fancy ferry that transports locals up and down the coast as well as tourists. We stop at a number of ports each day for people to embark and disembark and to allow other passengers to go on tours or meander through the local town.

The ship is small by cruise liner standards but has some of the same facilities. My wife describes the decor as “Upmarket Medical Centre”.

The main attraction for me is the amazing scenery we travel through but there is also time to observe my fellow passengers – at meals, in conversation, on tours and in the general activity of the ship. There are groups, couples, families and singles. There are Norwegians, Germans, French, Americans and a smattering of other nationalities. There are extreme introverts, and the far more annoying, extreme extroverts and every personality in between – and you are all stuck together for hours on end. Then you have drinkers for whom the bar is the focus of the ship, and the knitters who look for a quiet spot to click the needles and observe the amazing scenery. Crossword doodlers, shutterbugs, readers, board game players and jigsaw puzzlers round out the menagerie.

Vardo

A game I play is to listen for the accents to guess where people are from and when an opportune moment arises I will ask them, to see how close I got.

On this particular trip we have had two very special encounters. The first was with a pastor and his wife who had been in a church in Melbourne for a few years and are now back in Sweden. Even more amazing, we knew the town they came from and I actually had a photo of a friend of his which I had taken when he gave us a tour of a museum. The second encounter was with an elderly retired German academic who shared with us some of his amazing life. This was a special privilege.

I shouldn’t forget the crew. They need to keep good order on the ship as well as keeping the passengers happy. Most are friendly and some officious. They all do their respective jobs well but don’t get back to the ship late! Then you see their dark side. After a week you become familiar with the waiting and cleaning staff. On our trip the real test came when there was a bomb scare. Suddenly the crew had to take on different roles in an unfamiliar environment. The threat happened just as people were returning to the ship in port. Shelter, water and food had to be found, frail people supported and information transmitted. This was a moment when some of the crew really stood up and showed leadership and others stood back and waited for orders – a microcosm of everyday life.

Anyway, people are coming back from their excursions so it is time to swatch again.

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Robe – A Gem

I have travelled quite extensively around my area of the world but every now and then one finds a gem that has been missed in the past. In our recent trip to South Australia we went to Robe, in the South East corner not far from Mt Gambier. It is situated on an attractive bay. A stone obelisk on Cape Dombey which guided ships to the harbour, is still extant.

In the mid-1800s it was South Australia’s second busiest port. At this time Chinese migrants wishing to avoid Victoria’s arrival tax landed here and walked the 400 kilometres to Ballarat. It is estimated that 16000 travelled this path! The port became redundant with the advent of the railways and the wool and sheepskins which had previously been exported from here found another way of reaching their destinations.

What remains however is an attractive village which, by Australian standards, contains a collection of fine historical buildings – houses, churches and pubs. It is quite a treat to wander around the village with the aid of a pamphlet produced by the local council.

Today it is a holiday retreat with a protected marina for the keen fishermen. The fine old buildings are interspersed with modern units and houses. The town is alive and active but its C21st life is a far cry from the square riggers finding safe harbour here over 150 years ago.

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Some Glimpses of Madrid

In the future I would like to write more about this city but here are some glimpses to whet the appetite.

One of our favourite painters is Joachim Sorolla whose understanding of light and family infuses his paintings. On this occasion we didn’t enter the gallery but Hetty went to the bookshop and I wandered around the garden of what was originally his home.

Madrid is surrounded by huge parks, in part, because of it monarchist past. One is Retiro park with a lake and its own Crystal Palace.

The Museum of Archeology has an excellent collection that is beautifully presented. Spain is saturated in Roman sites and this part of their history shone.

And, of course, there are the churches.

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Lisbon I love you but I had to leave you

I said a while back I would write a few things about Lisbon.

Lisbon is an amazing city! It has a population of about 3 million people but it is the old city that grabs the most attention. It’s history, buildings, culture and people meld into an intoxicating mixture.

We went to the Lisbon Story Centre on the main Comércio square. It is an excellent narration of the history of the city: it’s origins, colonial period, the earthquake of 1755 and its emergence from dictatorship in 1974 – with its secret code in the Eurovision Song Contest.

Armed with this background we explored! The famous 28E tram takes you through the old town and gives the tourist an excellent overview of this part of Lisbon. The problem with the 28E tram is that it is popular. It is Tokyo style peak hour all day. Tourists are jammed into these tiny trams, hanging out of windows and squashed cheek and jowl all the way. We did it once but only once. I had no interest in getting to know the other tourists this well. The locals know that you catch the bus or metro – not as exotic but more effective and pleasant.

We did all the touristy things – castles, churches and etc. but one place needs a special mention – The National Tile Museum – Museu Nacional do Azulejo. Its display and presentation of the ceramic tiles so clearly visible throughout Spain and Portugal was amazing. The history, development and variety were displayed professionally in an old convent whose space was used very effectively.

But Lisbon highlights a problem. Tourists overrun the city. I felt guilty being there. It seems that the lives of the local inhabitants needs to make way for the influx of tourists where 3 cruise ship can disgorge over 10000 people into the middle of the old town in one hit. I haven’t felt the same in other places. Even Barcelona, in the past, was not that crazy, however, on this occasion although loving Lisbon I breathed a little easier once I had left.

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