Sunday 31 July 2011

Oh la la!

Before we went to visit Monet's house and garden at Giverny, we stopped off at another house on the way. This one had been occupied by French royalty however, and mon dieu, don't the French like a bit of decoration?! Welcome to the Chateau de Versailles, where too much gold leaf is never enough.
 They used it on the walls and on the ceilings and on the light fittings...
 They used in on the paintings and over the fireplace. Yes, those are whole trees in that fireplace.

 Here's a demure little treatment in the Queen's bed chamber and below is a glimpse of part of the garden. There is opulence and extravagance all around. No wonder the peasants revolted!
 One thing that the French do very well however, is the tree lined footpaths. Each town has their own variation on the theme, but the idea is very civilised, comfortable and quite splendid looking, n'est-ce pas?

Saturday 30 July 2011

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Have a guess whose garden I went to visit today.
I'll give you a little hint.
 This is his house in a beautiful part of northern France called Giverny. He has lots of visitors throughout the summer and this beautiful sunny day was no exception.
 It is of course, Impressionist artist Claude Monet's house and garden, featuring the famous bridge and waterlillies. The fast pace of Paris seemed like a world away from this stunningly beautiful and peaceful setting. Here is one of my many photos of the Japanese garden... 
 and my artistic attempt at a sunflower...complete with visiting wildlife.

Thursday 28 July 2011

C'est magnifique!

How we made it to our hotel in the northern area of Paris without needing the skills of a panel beater, I'll never know. There aren't any words in English to effectively describe French traffic and Ag deserves a medal for her efforts in getting us here safely. After some sleep, we faced our first full day in the French capital and the ol' Paris certainly delivered. Place de la Concorde, Le Champs Elysees, L'Arc de Triomphe, Le Louvre, Musee d'Orsay, etc, etc, etc. 







They were all there - all the icons - including la belle Tour Eiffel. We'll climb her tomorrow before we visit Versailles. A bientรดt!

Allons y, mon ami!

As Australians, living in a vast land with such varied environments and very desirable conditions, its a bit of a big deal when we decide to visit another country. Europeans however, make it look like a walk in the park. I was amazed at the ease with which we loaded Thelma onto a huge ferry at the Dover terminal in the UK and just an hour and a half later, we arrived at Calais, in France.

It was just like going through a toll station on the Gateway at home. They checked our ticket and told us to line up at number 217. Nobody asked about passports at all. The weather was cloudy, but the sea was as flat as glass as we watched the white, chalk cliffs of Dover fade behind us.
On our way to Paris, we made a short detour through the tiny village of Villers-Bretonneux, to visit the Australian War Memorial. It is set high up on a hill in the Somme countryside and after having spent quite a tense hour travelling in the right hand lane on the WRONG side of the highway, the sight of the Aussie flag waving proudly was quite a moving sight.
A very kind French woman took our photo for us...
and we climbed the tower for a magnificent view of the countryside.
 The imposing sandstone buildings were constructed by the Australian government after the First World War and it features the graves of soldiers from all the Commonwealth countries. The area was also under threat during the Second World War and bullet holes in the Memorial buildings are a stark reminder of the damage that was sustained.
We gave a rousing rendition of Waltzing Matilda as we descended the tower and paid our respects to the fallen, who can never go home. Lest we forget.

Tuesday 26 July 2011

Stone the crows!

What a strange and wonderful experience it is to witness the phenomenon that is Stonehenge. Rising up suddenly and unexpectedly from the rolling green hills of the Salisbury Plains near Avebury in southern England, the huge grey stones look haphazard from one angle and then neatly aligned in another. Each time I look at the many images, I find a new favourite.




Is there a Doc Martin in the house?

A day trip out and around Devon took us to a pretty little town called Tavistock where so many of the historic buildings are preserved.This is the police station.

We travelled into Cornwall and made our way to a port town called Looe. It has been used as a resort town for hundreds of years and the old buildings are perched up high on the hills. It was the first Sunday of the English school holidays, so it was a very busy place, with all the tourists clamouring for ice creams.

Because we were in Cornwall, we did as the Cornish do and ate a Cornish pasty on the beach. Perfect! The weather was much more pleasant than the pictures show, but it was an ominous sign of things to come.

With plenty more daylight to work with (it was only 7pm and the sun wasn't setting until 10.00 most nights) we headed to Port Isaac, which is where the English series Doc Martin is filmed. As we approached the inlet town, a thick and eerie mist descended.
We still managed to walk up the path to Doc Martin's house and saw the school where Louisa teaches. Doc Martin fans will know who I mean. Here is the Old School House Restaurant, which becomes the school during filming. The cars belong to the restaurant patrons.
This is the path that Doc Martin walks along to get to his surgery in the fictitious village of Port Wenn...
 and here is his surgery below. Hidden in the shrubbery next to the path are large bunches of electrical cables that the crew would use for cameras and lights.
The village of Port Isaac is a very old fishing village in Cornwall, tucked away on a hilly and rocky coastline. The streets are only one car wide, so visitors must use public parking facilities and walk through the lanes to the many gift shops and tea rooms.

Monday 25 July 2011

On the road again...

Ag has finished work for the term and now has 5 weeks off. We packed up Thelma and started our road trip with afternoon tea at Shewsbury, which is a very pretty town with lots of old Tudor style buildings.

Along the road, we experienced some of England's finest...weather that is. We managed to stay just behind this rainstorm, but the effects were amazing.
Our destination was Devon, home of the famous Cream Teas. We were privileged to stay in a 400 year old farmhouse in Templeton, near Tiverton, owned by Ag's wonderful friends.


It is referred to as a 'cob' house, made of wattle and daub, with a thatched roof. There's not a straight wall or a level floorboard in the whole place and it is absolutely enchanting. The area is semi-rural, with sheep and dairy farms all around. The roads are narrow and the hedgerows are very tall...
 
but this is the view you get from the breaks in the hedges. Wow! Like a beautiful, green patchwork quilt.

Wednesday 20 July 2011

Location! Location! Location!

I will have to catch up on the latter half of my Trafalgar tour of Ireland at a later date, because I have just had one of the most amazing days of my life and I have to share it! I made a special trip from Dublin to Northern Ireland - 5.5 hours on 3 different trains - to visit the Dunluce castle ruins. THIS IS OUR FAMILY CASTLE! The sun shone brilliantly for the first time in a whole month in Northern Ireland.

I have at least 100 photos of this castle and they are all spectacular. Here is the view to the right...

and cast your eyes left and this is what you see. Talk about location! No wonder they used to kill each other to live here.

Parts of the castle are 600 years old... 
and there are later additions, including "posh" 17th century stone architraves.
The kitchen featured several ovens and chimneys...there were guests quarters, a great hall in the manor house, bedrooms and many fireplaces, a bridged entrance, towers and a garderobe (toilet.)
But at every angle the view was breathtaking. I was enchanted by this place and spent 3 hours exploring it. There is even a sea cave entrance where they could enter (or escape) by boat at low tide.