Author: barmatelli

Wandering Womble. Remember those TV characters the Wombles? them just wandering, wandering wandering. That’s me. I dodge museums and sites of interest and just wander. The market is on this morning and although I usually love the pulse of it today it feels too squishy. We buy a baguette and two slices of Jambon for lunch and move on.

As I eluded to yesterday there is a photography exhibition on in Arles at the moment and I have skirted its fringes but not entered any of the exhibitions. We wander past a small gallery and it has a poster which draws me in.

I look at the picture on the wall and I know why. It feels like home. I look down and at the the little caption written in French and see the words Nouvell Zealand. I talk to the young woman who speaks English. “That’s home” I say. “I know where it is, it’s Takaka”. “Yes” she says. We talk and I tell here about the blue springs out of Putaruru and show her photos. She tells me that next time they go they will definitely go there and then we wander through the pictures of our beautiful piece of the world, captured beautifully. The artist now shares his time between Provence and the top of the South Island. When you walk through the back of the gallery there is a courtyard that you walk through to another room. I am in Takaka and can feel the springs. Random.

Wombling around some more click, walk, click. Arles lanes are lovely they just mix and merge and sooner or later you pop out only to go back again. It felt like every time we ventured out we would pass something new and something we had been by before.

Dinner was the hardest as everywhere we went they would say we needed a reservation. We had been lucky the previous two night and managed to get something down a quiet side street and been indulged with plat du jours, of various delectability. This last night in Arles was to not to be and we settled for a Hamburger and beer special (therefore WH the got two beers) and we ate outside in yet another pretty square down a wiggly lane.

I wake up in Marseille and think “please let my bag arrive”. I know it shouldn’t be a big deal but buying clothes and shoes in my size felt impossible. I quickly check my phone for texts and emails but alas there are none. I send an email asking for information and go to breakfast before check out.

Today we had a transfer to Arles booked with a stop off in Aix -en-Provence. I have cancelled it in light of the fact we have to return to the airport to pick up the suitcase. The email comes, yippppeeeee, it is there so we take another 40 euro Uber ride to the airport where we have decided to rent a car and drive to Arles via aix-en-Provence.

With suitcase in hand and rental car in wheel we are off. It’s bigger than what we normally get but WH thinks it will be ok. I forget how disconcerting it is driving on the wrong side of the road, even though I am not driving. I slam on the faux brake pedal on my side all the time. Nearly reach for the rear view mirror to put it in its correct position and try not to make audible noises when I feel we are too close, or too fast or just simply on the wrong side of the road.

We get to Aix en Provence and find a car park building and as WH navigates down the bendy curves and into the small car park my lips remain perfectly sealed, and my eyes closed. I am now quite eagerly seeking a bathroom so we wander around and around. I am not hungry after the hotel breakfast so don’t want to go into a restaurant. We wander and look up alleys and down roads for a WC sign but alas. The situation is now reaching a high degree of seriousness so I follow the signs for a museum, as museums have toilets do they not. We arrive at the museum and as the situation feels increasingly dire we go through security, I feel sure I will beep just because that will take even more time. I ask for two tickets. How how much would you pay to go to the toilet? A couple of bucks and then a wander around the museum in the air con? See a few statues. A couple of paintings. Some old stuff. 8 EURO EACH. That’s 16 euro for two. I could of had a raspberry tart and cold drink for less. I can’t say don’t worry about it because I am too busting and also would then have to go back out through the security thing.

I try to make the most of the museum visit. I even drink a near full bottle of water and go to the loo again to really get my monies worth. But it’s boring and we leave. I said to WH that this guy sums my visit up. I call him Floppy dick and I hope I am not being disrespectful. He is beautifully sculptured and probably very very old and famous but I care not.

Neither of us can be bothered wandering anymore so we head back to the car and navigate our way to Arles, with much more success.

We are staying for three nights in a tiny house in the historic centre and its cute. It down one of the quaint little lanes.

We sit in a square and watch the world go by and I know why I love France. It just feels good here. I should qualify that I like smaller towns like this or villages, rather than the cities. We eat late ordering what is effectively pot luck as we can’t speak enough French. But it’s all good. WH meat is very rare but mine is ravioli so its al good.

There is a photograph festival here and I haven’t yet been into any of the expeditions but we stumble upon a beautiful park and Luna.

It’s then past the old ampitheatre and onto the old colosseum which WH tells me is the 20th one for oldness and stuff. He is very good at reading signs and paying attention and I far prefer him as my guide.

And because I just like to wander and take photos, today of photos.

Shit happens

We arrive in Marseille after sitting on the tarmac for an hour in Mykonos. Something to do with having to move the bags around, Capitaine said. Something to do with having to put more bags in the front cause it’s windy Capitaine says. Liar, Liar pants on fire. Eventually we are off and a quick 2.5 hour flight we land in Marseille. We go to claim our luggage and then will head outside to our awaiting transfer. The RWC signs above the luggage carousal welcome us. Only problem is one of our bags doesn’t arrive. Mine. There are about 20 of us left milling around after everyone has gone and then someone comes over and addresses us all. Of course we have no idea what he is saying but by the reaction of the other passengers we know our bag isn’t here and isn’t coming.

A couple of things to say here. Firstly yes I have clean underwear and socks as we do have one bag and thankfully those things are in there. I also have toiletries and medicines. But that is it. I have the shirt on my back and the pants on my legs and the sneakers on my feet. We queue for eternity to fill out a form to say that our bag did not arrive and then are told that we hopefully our bag will be here the day after tomorrow and then we need to come and pick it up. “Cant you send it to our hotel? “. “Non non, if you want to see luggage again then you will need to pick it up. FFS.

With our transfer long since given up on us we head out and catch an Uber to our hotel, have a very bad late night meal and go to bed. A poor nights sleep is had and in the morning I envy WH who puts on a clean tshirt and shorts. I put on yesterdays clothes( the wrinkled, sweaty all day travel ones from yesterday) and head out for maybe a floaty dress, or even a tshirt. Two hours later. FFS

Two things. It’s all winter clothes. They are all tiny. Are there no woman over a size 12 in Marseille? If there are they don’t shop here. Two malls and 10,000 steps later I eventually end up at a RWC merchandise store and buy a big t shirt. Job done, and man am I grumpy. There is not one little bit of go with the flow left in me. I am hot, my two day old sweaty long sleeved shirt is clinging to me and my long travel pants are sticking to my legs. WH has long given up trying to improve the situation and we trudge towards the hotel. With hard earned crappy tshirt in hand.

We chance upon a tourist train and as the legs are done and the feet are swollen I suggest we climb aboard. Toot toot. We bounce and shudder around a circuit and get really bad photos but hey at least there is a breeze and I am sitting down.

On the way back to the little toot station where we started our tour we decide that we are now quite close to our hotel and we literally leap out when it stops for an ambulance blocking its path. Probably there for an old lady leaping (yes I know oxymoron) from a little toot train.

We check out the RWC display and then walk slowly along the waterfront back to the hotel.

Hopefully my bag will be here tomorrow. I have cancelled our transport to Arles and our stop off at Aix-en-Provence and I will go to the airport and collect my bag and be grateful to receive them. I will then leave Marseille and enjoy the Provence.

PS

Budget airlines can suck. The Uber to town and then back to collect the bags probably cost more than the flight. VOLOTEA airlines do not send the bags to your hotel even if they choose to leave them behind.

My shirt and pants are washed and hanging in the bathroom. Hopefully a different receptionist is on in the morning so I dont have to do another walk of shame through the lobby.

We are here for two nights as I really wanted to visit one of the Greek islands, I know I know Rhodes and Crete are Greek Islands but I wanted to connect with one of the picture postcard, mama Mia, windmill, white and blue houses island. Originally we were booked to fly from Santorini to Bordeaux France but our flights to France got cancelled and nothing worked. It was easy to get here from Athens but much harder to get out. We are now booked to fly out on Volotea (evidently Europes best budget airline, we’ll see) to fly to Marseille.

But first of all we enjoy the view. We are booked in a little self contained Villa looking down to Ornos beach. It’s very basic but has a lovely, but very cold, plunge pool. We wander down into Ornos village for dinner and YES I have the most wonderful crispy zucchini patties served with Greek yoghurt sauce and WH has lamb chops and we share a Greek salad. It was all delicious. The people were lovely the beer was cold and the wine was yuck but I still drank it. It was a lovely evening.

On the morning we catch the bus into Mykonos. The caretaker at the villa tells us it is about 36 euro for an Uber into town, but George (he’s the transfer driver who picked us up from the airport in his van. The van with no air conditioning and a taped up broken window and a door that you couldn’t open from the inside, 30 euro thank you very much for the 15 minute drive) can provide a ride into town for 20. I think it must be further away than what I think but research has shown there is a bus down the road so we go and catch it. 1.60 that’s right 3.20 Euro for the two of us and it takes us about 10 minutes tops. I think our caretaker may be pulling my leg so I put the destination in when we get home and sure enough its 37 Euro.

We hop of our great bus trip, yes I did say great and bus in the same sentence. The traffic on the narrow streets, both pedestrian with no footpaths and vehicles of two, 4 and 8 wheels everywhere. The buss driver has nerves of steel. We take a narrow path to the sea and I haven’t mentioned it yet but it’s windy. It’s Wellington windy with gusts up to 60 kph, ok not quite Wellington, but still windy.

We pass yet another little red roofed church and as luck would have it strike the windmills. Which by the way don’t work and are nearly getting blown away in the wind. They still connect and are picture postcard.

We move on and wander and wander and click (or at least I do) and wander some more. It’s really hard to pick the best photos to tell the story because they can tell it far better than me.

Windy waves blowing onshore

There is a ginormous cruise ship in (you can see the aft of it in the windy picture) and things start getting pretty crowded as the morning wears on. We decide we have wandered enough so we splash out another 3.20 and head back to Ornos for a lunch.

A few quick pics of transport though. Check out the rubbish truck and Nan who nearly ran us down on her scooter.

I am going to say something here about selfies. After being at all these picture postcard places like Acropolis, Blue Mosque, quaint villages, white washed buildings, and Mykonos windmills I propose a new etticut that should take hold in regard to selfies. YOU GET ONE SHOT. You may not stand there and flick your hair, then look and retake, then move your slit on your skirt to show more thigh, then look then pout some more, then tip you head up, then down. YOU GET ONE SHOT and move along. Even if its an exceptionally bad one you can get another shot of it later.

PS

Selfie takers you may also not stand in exits, entrances or narrow pathways unless you are exceptionally quickly.

Travel tip. When in Mykonos take the bus its very cheap and a nice bus.

Just a couple more photos as I don’t wont the very poor selfie to be the last pic you see. We were going back to the bus and shortcutting through the lanes towards the bus stop and this little fella with his suitcase trundling behind was in front of us. He gets to where he is going and then peeks out from behind the stairs as I attempt to take a picture through the lane to the sea. Which I fail to do so by the way>

Review of Viking, Ancient Treasures on Viking Sky.

Cruise with me baby. That’s the song I always think of when I think of cruising. It’s something I never really thought I would enjoy but it definitely has its pluses. We sailed the Ancient Treasures cruise with Viking on Viking Sky. Starting in Istanbul and finishing in Athens. We originally chose Viking to go to Russia as they a good itinerary and small ship size, compared to many others also the gratuities / tipping was all included. Russia got cancelled, because of Covid, not the war but of course we had to change plans and this is the first of the cruises using our 2020 credits.

We did the pre-tour in Istanbul which meant we got an airport pick up and transfer to the hotel. When I say we got, I mean we paid for it in the package and this is what we got, but it had the benefit of someone else organising it for us which after a couple of long haul flights and the brain fog it induces it felt worth it. We also got an extensive tour of Istanbul the next day which as I said if someone else organises and you can just show up, helps stave off the jet lag.

Joining the ship was easy as we transferred from the hotel. It was one of those go with the flow travel days which was to be expected. Our cabin was supposed to be available at 11.00 but we couldn’t board til after 12. No worries. Our cabin was lovely and the balcony was brilliant. All cabins have one on Viking. We were on deck 8 and it was just down the hall from the lounge where we could get coffee so that was a morning bonus.

The coffee from the lounge first thing in the morning as we berthed in a new port and then ate breakfast of fresh berries and yoghurt in our room or on the balcony never grew old. We went to the restaurant once for breakfast and it was delicious. Had a wonderful eggs bene and WH had lamb chops and fried eggs. We also had buffet on our last days and it was good as well. Just can’t be doing that every day.

An A+ has to be given to the fact that wherever we went or whenever we went we never had to queue. Not to get on or off the ship, to restaurants, or anything else you might queue for. We also never bothered to go to any shows or entertainment. In Istanbul we went and watched the “Whirling dervishes”. And snuck out the back door. There seemed to be a lot going on if you wanted to join in but also lots of places to hide.

I must admit the last night in Athens whilst sitting on the deck watching the ships go by I was disappointed that we weren’t setting sail and watching the diminishing view, although I did feel that I had had enough. Of old, no ancient, stuff.

The post tour in Athens was a waste of time. I have already complained about the hotel room but also the transfer was booked with a bags out 6.30am and meet at 7.20 for a 11.40 domestic flight. It would have been far cheaper and just as easy to organise ourselves, especially as they UBER.

The staff, without exception, were all lovely. Friendly, helpful and always smiling. All in all a lovely cruise and to use the last of the credits we will finish our Europe OE with a river cruise at the end so will let you know the verdict.

We arrive in Piraeus for our last day and overnight on our ship. It was a beautiful morning to enter the harbour and definitely ferry heaven. WH counted 16 just that he could see off our balcony let alone what was on the other side.

The beautiful sun rise also meant there were huge storm clouds with thunder and lightening so needless to say our bike tour around Athens was cancelled. We take ourselves as fortunate when we join a panorganic Athens tour instead and the guide tells us that in central Greece they got a years rainfall in a day and there are huge floods. We do a drive by around the city and pass things like the Olympic stadium and ruins of this and remnants of that.

We hop of the bus and meander a while and then decide to return to the ship and wile away the afternoon by ferry watching and pack our bags for tomorrow’s departure.

I can’t go though with out telling you about these guys. They guard the tomb of the unknown solider and every half hour they do this walk thing, that is so in time even when they aren’t facing each other. They kick their leg up and sometimes just lift it half way and hold it there. They go away from each other, come back, go to the side and then the front and meet in the same spot at the same time. They start from their little hut, one on each side of the tomb and end up back there when finished.

Once finished a grumpy army guy in normal army clothes come over and inspects them. Flicks their tassel to the front and whispers something quietly by their ear. I don’t know what it is but I guess its not, well done bloke, its hot out here and you did good. It is of course very old and it was fascinating to watch as well as a fitting tribute to all the unknown soldiers.

PS. There shoes weigh 3 kilos each and have 16 nails in them to make the sound of army marching. They also have a razor blade in the pom pom in case they need to kick someone. Maybe grumpy:-)

+ Amazing Acropolis and Pretty Park

For sure that’s a big overstatement but remember I am trying to restore my mojo and it sounds good. I wake feeling better than the day before so have a cruisey morning. We head downstairs to have a buffet breakfast and it’s terrible. It’s cold, not even luke warm just cold. I still miss my deck, with coffee and fresh berries and a view.

We are on level two and see nothing but another level 2 looking back at us and level one,three, four and five. There is a big park across the road from the hotel so we head out for a look. It’s amazing. It has this huge building which is the opera house at one end and the libarary at the other with a big glass elevator going to the sky deck. The view is 360 and its beautiful.

The roof is a green roof and you walk down a long path into the gardens where there is a big lawn, bike tracks, volleyball, a maze and heaps of families enjoying it.

No tragedy here. We go back to the hotel and I catch up on blogs as we are planning to go to the Acropolis this afternoon. Technical tragedy, say. No more. Normal services will hopefully resume shortly.

We had a handy tip from some friends we met on the cruise. “Make sure you buy your skip the line tickets online as the queues are huge, and go later in the afternoon”. So we book online for 4pm.

We catch an Uber to the Acropolis. Yes that’s right an Uber. We go to the app, type in acropolis and whola an Uber arrives and drops us off 15 minutes later. No tragedy here. We see the line snaking its way to the ticket office and walk past with the right amount of poor you smugness, whilst heading to the turnstile. “Sorry” the man says you must go to the ticket office and validate your ticket. “ No no “ we say look it says 4pm, Saturday the 9th. “Sorry” he says, actually I don’t think he did say sorry he just said “ no, wrong website you have to go and validate” and if he did say it he sure didn’t mean it. Ticket tragedy.

Tragedy line

We finally validate our ticket, along with other poor souls who have done the same as us, and then reach the turnstile with all smugness gone. The Acropolis however does not disappoint. It is worth the queue. There is just something about it. I know I said I was done with ancient stuff for a while but this feels quite special.

We wander slowly and watch the stick followers and earplug wearers and even the little get your guide or I;m a local whatever the tour is I am glad to just be here and wander and read and take it in and go wow how did they do that. I did read that it was a temple, then a church, then a mosque, then a church, depending on who the current raider was and that the most damage ever done was by the a Scottish guy who was the ambassador who decided to dismantle quite a bit and ship it back to the British museum. So that was enough learning for one day.

We leave this wonderful place and wander back down into Plaka where I wanted to have a traditional Greek dinner, on the cascading steps, that we had seen previously. We find a cute spot but it feels a bit early as I want to wait until it gets dark so I can the Acropolis towering above us all lit up, its gunna be spectacular. However the body is pretty tired after 15000 steps and in need of a sit down so we decide to sit and eat.

The man says we can’t sit on the stip we have to sit around the corner as these ones are reserved. We oblige and then we wait. And wait. I did mention I was pretty thirsty. Finally we manage to get some service after I catch someone’s eye and I order an aprerol spritz and WH a big beer. I order crispy zucchini balls with tzatziki followed by Moussaka and WH order stuffed tomatoes and then a traditional Greek dish of zucchini stuffed with mince and herbs and feta cheese. Yummmy

We wait. We wait. We wait. I did say I was thirsty. Finally we get someone’s attention and say we ordered a drink and quite soon after my Spritz arrives and it’s delicious. Alas no beer. Tragedy. It’s thirsty work climbing the Acropolis so again we ask and it is delivered. We decide its third time lucky restaurant.

Then very soon after that I get serviced my main of Mousakka and WH gets stuffed tomato entree. “But what about the crispy zucchini balls with tzatziki. And what about the Greek mince balls for WH”. Tragedy. The Moussaka was average and about the size of a small saucer so even sharing it was hardly enough for hardy mountain ooops I mean Acropolis hikers. We decide to cut our losses and ask for bill. Waiting to see if the other things are on there. Of course we have to ask three times. We decide they didn’t even have a bill for us and had to make it up.

I give up on the waiting until it gets dark thing as the tragedy of our Greek dinner – stuffed tomato ball and tiny moussaka did not leave a good taste so we Uber back to our hotel and wander across the road to the park where all the families have still come out to play and we watch the people go by and the sun go down. It’s a beautiful space.

Athens has been good and I feel we’ve seen a lot even though it’s a fraction of what there is to see, but I don’t think I will come back. For me it doesn’t draw me back to want more of the same in a different time and space. Unlike much of France and Italy. I have enjoyed it all, apart from the minor Greek tragedies but I am happy to be moving on.

PS

Don’t use skip the line tickets from acropolis-tickets.com as they are not skip the line and evidently not the offical website for acropolis tickets. Who knew?

The park is called Stavros Niarchos Park and it’s definitely worth the look. Coffee was the best we had since we left home and was 2 euro. Homemade lemonade was absolutely delicious (was like a virgin mojito) and was only 2.50. This was at the canal cafe. By comparison a small coke at the restaurant in Plaka was 4 euro.

Uber works well and taxi’s charges are very variable.

There are two more blogs before this one but they are still experiencing technical difficulties and will not post so if random ones turn up and send you backwards then so be it.

The subscribe button is broken so you have to come back and check if there has been a new post. Blog tragedy.

My blogs at the moment are sort of boring me. I am days behind as my page keeps breaking and experiencing “critical” errors and I am at a loss of how to fix it. My subscribe button has disappeared and I can’t remember who was on the list, that’s if I could even work out how to put it back.

I am myself facing technical difficulties as well as I suffer the dreaded headache, sore throat thing. Willing it away with my positive, I will not succumb vibes and triple doses of vitamin C, yet the pace has slowed to cater for the interruption.

We are off the ship and I shall dedicate a short blog to that at a later date but for now we are in a hotel for a couple of days in Athens. It’s a bit of a let down, the hotel that is. It’s part of the post tour package but after the our veranda suite on the ship this is a room on the second floor staring across at another room on the second floor. It has an opening window which is great but sort of smells weird, like it was a smoking room 10 years ago and its ingrained in its fabric.

I am in WH good books after he exhausted all avenues of trying to find somewhere to watch the All Blacks vs France opener I managed to find a live broadcast online. He watched it with no technical difficulties. We lost. I wasn’t so clever at finding the Warriors so he had to read about that this afternoon. We lost.

There is plenty of inspiration around for subject material to blog about but after starting the last blog three times before it eventually saved itself I have lost my mojo but now having read my last posted blog I fear I had best find it quick.

It does appear that this blog has managed to save itself and if it publishes ok then I will head out this evening and find my mojo…..

I’ll be back…….

They tell us Crete was home to the Minoans, Europe’s earliest recorded civilisation, so of course we have to go to a museum. Big sigh. I find this one quite fascinating as its literally really hard to get your head back this far in time and I guess see how civilised they were and what they accomplished with what they had.

Obviously there was a lot of stuff so I shall just pick a few favourites. Women seemed to be a bit higher regarded than in other eras that we have explored. They are depicted as white in the graphics and pictures, whereas men are pictured as brown. They say women were well regarded and not expected to work outside hence why there skin stayed light, yet they participated in many sports and games like Bull Leaping.

In the picture above, one of the female athletes are restraining the bull by the horns whilst the male athlete does a backward somersault of it and the second female is waiting with outstretched arms to catch him. Yeee haaaa.

So as not to bore you all too much check out the teacups from 1700 BC and the urn.

So as you can see they were pretty fancy hundreds of years before christ and they had fancy hairstyles. Now I am starting to sound like one of those guides, I will be holding up an umbrella for you to follow around any moment.

With museum touring done for the day I breathe annother sigh, phew……..and we wander through town, where I buy an obligatory tea towel souvenir. We decide we are historied and old towned out so we head back to the ship and chill on the balcony.

It’s nice to have a chill afternoon and as we are in a busy ferry port, with no giant cruise ship in front of us, we spend the late afternoon counting ferries, what they are loading, when they loading, timing them to see how fast they load and of course discharge, checking out the port facilities and infrastructure and finally making tut tut noises at the linesman procedures when we leave. Whilst of course having a G&T and beer. Fun times.