Seville, mostly

September 2022

After two and a half years off the rails, Spain beckons. We'll be travelling from Fratton (of course) to London, Eurostar to Paris where we'll tick off our last Parisian mainline station when we leave on the sleeper from Gare Austerlitz to Latour de Carol in the Pyrenees. From there a local train will take us to Barcelona where we'll overnight before catching the morning train to Granada. After a couple of nights there visiting the Alhambra, we'll head to Seville for the best part of a week, visiting Jerez, before heading home via Madrid and Santander where we'll catch the ferry to Portsmouth.

Day One

Fratton Station

The night before we leave there's a big thunder storm and water is coming in through the bathroom vent. After some running repairs we retire and awake the next morning to find everything in place so we shrug, get ready and set off to catch the 11.54 to Waterloo. Minor panic as a Southern Trains service to Victoria is abruptly cancelled but nothing else is affected and, although we set off slowly, thanks to other delayed Southern Trains - a fact our conductor is keen to remind us of throughout the journey - we arrive in good time and cross London by tube and sit patiently in St Pancras International waiting for our train gate to open.

I know Eurostar have had their critics recently but just to say, passport control and security was as smooth as possible with the added entertainment of one of the 'guides' making sure we got in the right passport lane - "no, this one, not my fault it's brexit".  

Arrived at Paris Nord bang on time leaving us just shy of two hours to get across Paris to Gare d'Austerlitz on a packed Ligne 5 and notwithstanding a wrenched elbow gained by lifting a heavy case and bag over the barrier. Anyway, Austerlitz will be lovely once it's finished and is the last mainline station in Paris from which we have departed (I may have mentioned this before). There's quite a wait in our airy (ok, outside) waiting area before the board directs us to the platform for our Intercités de nuit sleeper to Latour. There are no private beds on this train and I think we were too late booking to take advantage of an espace privée supplement, so we find ourselves sitting on our quite comfortable couchettes finishing off a half bottle of half decent Bordeaux before turning in under the sleeping bag provided for us. We have one traveling companion in the upper bunk but it's all very convivial as we speed on through the night to the Pyrenees.

Day two

At around 7am, our traveling companion starts moving about as quietly as she can and eventually leaves the train at Foix. We are thus left to ourselves for the next couple of hours as our train climbs slowly into the Pyrenees. It's beautiful. Mountain trains are the best, moving slowly through spectacular scenery while you gently take it all in and if it's a sleeper, you can come to your senses at leisure. And while this particular morning might not quite equal waking up to an eagle taking flight in the Highlands, the window is three times the size and we can both easily enjoy the passing view.

Eventually we come to a halt at the impressive but practically deserted Latour de Carol Enveitg station on the Spanish border. There's a nice looking café just outside but it turns out to be shut on a Wednesday so we have to content ourselves with coffee and pastries from the Relay concession in the station. Our Rodales train to Barcelona is due to leave at 10.25 and there's an announcement to that effect but there's no train and the half dozen of us waiting shrug and laugh at the imaginary transport that is 'about to leave' so 'please close the doors'. A moment or so later a man appears from the station building and shouts across the tracks to those of us waiting and it turns out the said train is 15 minutes late arriving. Twenty minutes later we board, and trundle off down the other side of the mountains to our destination. The first three quarters of the journey are spectacular (when not in the many short tunnels) but it gets more prosaic the closer to Barca we get and the last few kilometres are underground. 

We're staying at AC Sants across the concourse from the station and check in before having a very welcome shower and a bit of a siesta. It's a comfortable business oriented hotel and is so convenient for a brief stay in the Catalan capital as most trains come in and out of Sants and there's a massive taxi rank outside. Suitable refreshed we find there's still time for a short trip out and we settle on the museum of the art of Catalunya on Mount Juic. We wander across an get in one of those taxis which takes us right up to the museum and then swerves round and up the hill to a point nearer the actual entrance. There's a mobile bar affair outside the main door and a beer seems in order while we take in the panoramic view of the city. It's a spectacular venue and very well presented, plus Sarah gets in free. There's a lot to see but we confine ourselves to a splendidly presented exhibition of rescued medieval frescoes, altarpieces and other religious art from the region followed by a walk through the history of Spanish art.

Dinner tonight is at La Tere Gastrobar where we ate last time we were here; we hope it's as good and generally it is. The quality of food is still very good but I guess covid has contributed to robbing it of some of the ambience and bonhomie we experienced last time. Our train to Granada leaves at 8.30am so we retire to our room and watch something we'd downloaded on the iPad before turning in.

Day three

The convenience of our hotel can't be overstated. It's comfortable too, although the air conditioning this time was positively arctic. Left is the view from our window of the station, so it's a matter of supreme ease to walk across the street to catch our high speed train to Granada this morning. We have splashed out for confort class seats for the roughly six hour journey. Masks have to be worn and it takes a little while to get used to that again. Sarah has been spending time on every train making lace and today we're sharing our table with a Spanish pair, one of whom is crocheting a shawl and regales us with many photos of their previous efforts, all of which are excellently made but are largely variations on a theme.

The landscape of the Ebro valley is interestingly stark as we approach Zaragoza then passing Madrid on towards Cordoba there's farmland and olive groves. We get lunch from the buffet car; toasted iberico ham with tiny bottles of olive oil and a rather marvellous tomato concoction to tart it up with, together with a glass of red wine. 

Leaving Cordoba, where our new friends get off, we learn that the Queen is at death's door and I'm glad not to have to face wall-to-wall Nicholas Witchell speculating with no solid information for hours on end. It seems however that this is it.

Meanwhile, the track from Antequera to Granada is all olives and distant mountains. There's a new road being built and what looks like a wildfire in the distance but we arrive in good order into 33° heat and take a taxi to our hotel where we have to wait a while to check in at 4pm, no earlier. It's worth it however as we're upgraded to a very comfortable ground floor suite in this listed 17th century Palacio. The man at reception is extremely helpful and has prepared a useful guide to all that's good for our short stay here including where and when to get the best photos of the Alhambra and the best places to eat.

Time for a siesta.

Upon waking we learn that the Queen has indeed died.

We still need to eat so we head to La Diamante recommended by our host and manage to get a couple of seats at the bar. We order a couple of beers and get a mixed plate of seafood and aubergine to keep us going. We order clams, deep-fried anchovies and a dish of mushrooms and devour the lot washed down with a couple more beers. The food is as fresh as it is delicious and generous, the service is hectic and friendly. It's very popular. We go back to the hotel for a whisky and a relatively early night for tomorrow we have the Alhambra.

Day four

Our tour starts at noon, we're to be there fifteen minutes beforehand. Never one to leave things to the last minute, we're there an hour early. Time for breakfast at one of the cafés and still have twenty minutes to wait with no clue as to who out of the many tour guides in the meeting area will be ours. I wave my tickets at some of them but they shake their heads, they're not ours. Finally I find a few fellow tourees and we gather together outside the gift shop before Ana breezes up and announces she's the 12 o'clock English tour guide (she's actually local but her English is excellent). Tickets issued we start our three hour tour of the entire complex. It's fascinating, Ana has a PhD in Islamic studies and so provides us with perhaps far more insight than we might have had on other tours. We hadn't realised quite how extensive the Alhambra is but the best is saved for last as the tour ends in a crescendo of beauty and with us exhausted but happy. Sadly for us, the tour ends quite a distance and downhill from the entrance and the gift shop from where we've resolved to buy a suitable "coffee table" book. The climb back up is arduous in our tired state and the continuing 33 degree heat. 

A bus back to the centre and a search for lunch (at 4pm!) finds us inhaling egg, chips, chorizo, Andalucian black pudding, fried green peppers and pork loin washed down with beers and sparkling water at a café restaurant not far from last night's excellent repast. This too is wonderful, a sort of full Andalusian all-day breakfast.

We've been told that a particular church is as spectacular as any Rome has to offer so, refreshed, we catch the number 8 bus across the city and arrive at said church ten minutes before it closes. They won't let us in. Not even for a quick peek. Grrrr. It's a way out of town, among the university buildings, not being entirely sure of finding a bus back in this still searing heat, I check and find Granada has Uber so I call one and eventually we're back at the hotel for a shower and a snooze. A table has been booked at Los Manueles for 9.30pm - still early for Spain - and we have a decent meal there this time washed down with white sangria.

Day five

Before leaving for Seville there's time for breakfast at the "Alhambra Café" on Bib-Ramblas and some last minute shopping. We even squeeze in a visit to their very splendid cathedral before a taxi takes us to the station.

There's a pretty long queue for our train and every one's luggage has to be x-rayed before boarding. Our ticket is for Antequera where we change trains for Seville. It now seems the train we're about to board is also going to Seville which produces a moment's confusion but then I realise it's going via Cordoba which surely must take longer. In the event about twenty other passengers get off with us and board what turns out to be the train from Málaga to Seville arriving at around quarter past four.

Seville station is smart, new and cavernous. Outside is hot, stiflingly so. We find the taxi rank and get in the first available. Trouble is, the driver doesn't seem to know her way around, has to ring the apartment owners, still can't find it and has to use Sarah's Google maps directions to get us there. She still charges us €10 for the privilege despite having gone at least half a kilometre in the wrong direction.

The apartment is wonderful. It has a proper kitchen, living room and bedroom, a large bathroom, a balcony AND a rooftop pool. We go shopping and I cook us a spicy chicken tagliatelle dish as we enjoy a quiet night in. In the meantime I book us a tour of the Alcázar in the morning. 

Day six

The Alcázar is a fifteen minute walk from the apartment and Google maps takes us a slightly longer way than necessary but we fetch up at the Lion Gate in good time and wait. It's becoming increasingly clear that the deal with the tickets isn't the same as it was in Granada and all we've bought is a jump the queue ticket. There are plenty of potential guides around however and one seems particularly promising. We end up in a small group of six, there's a good dynamic and we have a thoroughly enjoyable tour. The Alcázar itself is beautiful in all respects and was substantially rebuilt by King Pedro who was strongly influenced by the style of the  Alhambra and you can see echoes of that design throughout those parts of the palace. I get the impression that the decoration is not quite as fine as that at Granada but that's really a counsel of perfection as it is still wonderful. The gardens are particularly impressive but the heat drives us inside and we have a quick lunch in the café and a wander around what remains of the old gothic portion of the palace and the ceramics exhibition before leaving in what remains stifling heat.

Outside the cathedral we stop for a drink - a couple of Finos as it happens - and some pinchos, at Orio's bar. Deciding to head to the river we stumble on the tourist office and end up booking a river trip on a solar powered boat. The boat doesn't leave until 6pm so we have a couple of hours to kill. We carry on down to the river, about 100m away, past the Torre Oro and find the pier for later and sit in the shade for a while. Further down the bank there's a couple of bars which seem as good a place as any to wait. The nearest looks quite good, the bar is run by a young man with his uninterested girlfriend and there's plenty of room so we order Aperol spritz and enjoy the ambience, which includes a Spotify playlist called "In da Guettho" which we have great fun texting our horrified daughters about.

After an iced coffee we head back to the pier and before long are aboard the boat on our river trip, which proves only that Seville's waterfront is not all that interesting, particularly when the three language commentary is out of sync, but it's a calm and relaxing hour spent on the water. We would normally spend late afternoons wherever we're staying to recharge before going out to dinner but today. perhaps foolishly given the heat, we're walking back through the old town looking for a potential tapas bar crawl. In the end we find a good looking restaurant and stay there for dinner instead and then manage to crawl home for a well-earned sleep.

Day seven

It's raining! I booked tickets to the cathedral last night (it's Monday and not much other touristy stuff is open) and on our way there this morning it starts to rain. Annoyingly the pre-booked entrance is not the main entrance and we have to dodge the now quite heavy rain to the other side of the building before we can go in. Seville Cathedral is quite magnificent, apparently the third largest in Europe after St. Peter's and St Paul's (Rome & London) and contains the tomb of Christopher Columbus (or part of him at least) among other treasures. It feels more like a museum than an active church but it is beautiful and the morning is well spent. It has a lovely cloister with orange trees and a wooden crocodile hanging from the ceiling and the obligatory gift shop through which we exit and from which we buy our obvious souvenir for Seville - a cheap resin model of the Torre Oro.

We grab a beer at a local bar and decide to take a tourist bus tour of the city aiming to end up at Plaza d'Espagne. It's a very long tour with several very interesting sights but the area that once held the 1992 world fair, now a business park, is not one of them. We go round the whole tour and swap buses to start again so we can reach our goal. The Plaza d'Espagne, part of the extensive rebuilding for the 1929 Ibero-American exhibition, is hugely impressive but seems somehow under-utilised and we have one more stop before we head back to the apartment. The tobacco factory where Bizet set Carmen is now a university building but it remains an impressive structure and Sarah poses for a photo outside to send to friends with whom we went to see the opera at the Royal Opera House a few years ago, buying very expensive tickets during a night on the vodka.

Tonight we eat at a splendidly decorated Moroccan restaurant very near the apartment and it's rather good.

Day eight

Before we left home I booked us a tour of a sherry bodega in Jerez and a couple of days before departing I get a phone call from them asking if I realised I'd booked a Spanish language tour. Obviously I hadn't realised this, so our visit time was pushed back from midday to 4pm for the English version. This means we don't have to leave Seville quite as early as originally planned - Jerez is only just over an hour away by train so we resolve to catch the 10:45 and amble the ten minute walk to the station. Queueing at the Renfe ticket office, time is starting to look tight but ultimately the train is delayed anyway so we arrive in good order and walk into the centre of town.

As with nearly all places it seems, the area around the station is not very salubrious but as we walk further Jerez begins to unfold its charms and we find ourselves first at a bar in the Plaza de la Asuncion for a refreshing fino, and then lunch of anchovies and Russian salad at a very local café in the Plaza Plateros. Our tour is at the Bodegas Tradicion and on the way there is the cathedral so we stop for a visit and spend a cool half hour before climbing what turns out to be quite a steep hill up to the bodega. We arrive a little early but they're happy to let us in and we rest under a roof of vines alongside a couple who had arrived even earlier than us. By the time four o'clock rolls round there are a dozen there for the tour.

Bodegas Tradicion is a relatively new venture built on the foundations of a much older one and their interesting story is told before we visit the many barrels of sherry and get a very good grounding in how the various types of wine are made and how they differ from each other. We then get a generous tasting of several of their very fine products before we are led into what turns out to be the highlight of the tour; their excellent private art collection where we sip our Pedro Ximenes and marvel at this small but perfectly formed collection of Spanish art including examples from all the greats - Goya, Velasquez, El Greco, Picasso to name the obvious. Suitably enamoured, we buy a couple of bottles - a fino and oloroso - and share a taxi back to the station with another couple. A coffee in the station café kills the time waiting for our train back to Seville where our taxi driver this time has a much better idea of where things are.

I make us a meal using up the chicken and pasta we had bought on our first day as a lovely day comes to a very satisfying end.

Day nine

The weather is fine again, but thankfully not as hot. We're heading for the Seville Museum of Fine Arts gallery in the Plaza de Museo. It's a nice wander through a different part of Seville and we first come across the magnificent Setas de Sevilla, a large wooden structure known to locals as the mushrooms, finished in 2010 and a very modern landmark for this old city.

On the way we also pass Lizerran, a café bar recommended by Adam for its pinchos, so we stop for a beer and a snack which is indeed pretty good, before we move on to through shopping streets to the gallery.

The gallery itself is excellent. Well curated and a fascinating journey through more Spanish art, including a fine collection of Murillos, set in a lovely old palazzo with a cool courtyard interior.

It's our last night in Seville so we decide to try one of the nearby bars, the first of which, "Becerrita", turns out to be a more than decent restaurant and a fitting conclusion to our time here. The food is lovely and we settle on sherry with every course rather than a bottle of wine. A crisp, dry fino to start followed by a Palo Cortado and finishing with a very fine PX. 

Day ten

Today marks the turn for home as we turn north towards Madrid. We leave Seville fairly early in the morning and arrive in the capital just after 11am. We're at the main station, Atocha, but our hotel and tomorrow's departure station is at Charmatín so after failing to find the local train connection we get in a taxi to cross the city. Charmatín is the mainly business quarter and home to Real Madrid but the station is rather prosaic and the hotel, like AC Sants in Barcelona, is not built for tourists but is also not quite as nice as its Catalan counterpart. It will do for us though.

Sarah has found us a potentially interesting little museum to visit only a couple of metro stops away. Finding the metro itself is less that straightforward however but after wandering aimlessly for a few minutes we eventually find it down some steps from platform 1 of the main station. The ticket machines are also less than obvious and there are a couple of staff stationed nearby to help the many confused travellers. After that, the trip is as easy as it should be. The museum is ten minutes from the metro and up a slight hill but we find it easily enough and buy our tickets. It's often best, we find, to start at the top floor and work our way down. The lift in this building is a rather fine vintage wooden one and the museum itself is filled with a marvellous collection of art, objet and artefacts put together by José Lázaro Galdiano and bequeathed to the Spanish state.

We seem to be in a rather expensive part of town with the cafés offering rather more expensive food than we really require on a Thursday lunchtime but we find one that's more relaxed than the others and beautifully decorated where have a lovely, good quality lunch. Rather better quality than the station Burger King we get for dinner before a very early start in the morning.

Day eleven

We're on a fast train to Valladolid where we change and catch a slow train through the Cantabrian mountains down to Santander. The mountains are very picturesque with broadleaf woodland, ochre painted houses and wild pampas grasses framing the meadows and villages dotted along the way and making it look not quite like a Swiss alpine scene.

Santander station is half a mile form the hotel and once oriented we drag our weary carcasses to what turns out to be a very nice hotel near the water, and crucially, across the road from the ferry terminal. We are able to check in and after a quick rest, a shower and booking a restaurant for later  Sarah is desperate for a swim. Santander is actually bigger than it looks and the main beach is really too far to walk so we get the front desk to call us a taxi. Before launching ourselves onto the sand it's time for lunch.

There are a whole load of bus stops here and several of them will take us back to the hotel so after a swim (for Sarah, not me) and a sizeable ice cream we catch one.

Our dinner booking is at Querida Magarita, a Michelin recommended restaurant. it seems quite near on the map so we walk, but it's further than we thought and up a bit of a hill and in what looks like a more residential area but it's very much worth it and we have a great meal with paired wines at a very reasonable price. A taxi back to the hotel is essential after such a repast.

Day twelve

A day to wander around the centre of Santander, picking up some last-minute shopping and having lunch in the cathedral square before it reopens after siesta. The cathedral itself is nice, not very elaborate but calm. We also have a stroll in the park by the hotel and take some time to relax looking across the water and laughing at the forlorn attempts of a workman to keep his temporary barrier erect in what s quite a strong wind and in the face of a public determined to ignore it. The modern arts centre is quite the building and the park has several sculptures dotted around - it's a lovely place to sit quietly after what has been a busy couple of weeks.

Dinner turns out to be in an old covered market that has been converted into something with art shops, bars and a travel themed restaurant. It's a real contrast to the previous evening but no less enjoyable and a fitting way for our time in Spain to end.

Days thirteen and fourteen

We arrive at the recommended time to catch the 2pm ferry back to Portsmouth and wait. And wait. Brittany Ferries' Santander route does not seem geared up for foot passengers at all as we wait for all the vehicles to embark before following them up the vehicle ramp rather than via a separate passenger entrance as you might expect. Our cabin is nice though, thankfully I booked one with a window, and we settle down for our 28 hour voyage home. There's an interesting talk scheduled for the marine mammals we might see on the way but we fail to see any whales or dolphins on either day. A fair dinner is included and we then retire to our cabin and watch "Rocket Man" (3 Stars) on their video on demand service. Sadly I completely failed to put my iPad away properly for falling asleep and so managed to leave it behind when we disembarked.

The weather was calm for the whole crossing thankfully. We don't dock until 5.30pm though and with nothing else much to do we end up watching most of the Queen's funeral, which seems to be on almost every TV on board anyway. Once again the lack of regard for foot passengers shows as we don't get to leave until well after everyone else and the bus to the terminal is cramped and not geared up for the amount of luggage we all carry. After a long time at border control (yawn, thanks Brexiteers) we call an Uber and are soon home.

Carbon saved by not flying: 1.15 tonnes

When it's spring again...

February 2020

We love Amsterdam.

 Day One

Although worrying noises were beginning to come out of China, our sole concern at this time was the potential disruption of Storm Ciara. It was, however, a very leisurely start to a quick break in Amsterdam as we left Fratton station headed for a midday direct Eurostar to the Dutch capital. For some reason when we booked, the cheapest ticket out was in business class so we had a very relaxing and comfortable journey arriving on a late afternoon in early February.

On our first trip to Amsterdam back in 2012 we stayed at a lovely boutique hotel just off the Museumplein and in a fit of nostalgia we had booked the Hotel Jan Luykens again for what may turn out to be the last time. On booking in we were told that it would be closing in October. I dare say it closed earlier than that. It was a nice hotel and very conveniently located but lacked any dining facility. Accordingly we scout around for dinner and head for Sama Sebo a very popular Indonesian restaurant. The weather is wet and without a reservation we seem to be out of luck but as we pass along the outside looking for an alternative, one of the waiters waylays us with the offer of a seat at the bar if that would suit. It does indeed. We order the rijsttafel and stuff ouselves stupid on the most delicious and varied food.

Day Two - The Hague

We have started to want to explore further afield and so we are going to The Hague. Dutch trains are frequent and efficient so with only a fairly early start and a quick change in Utrecht we arrive at Den Haag HS mid-morning and head for our first stop; the Marithuis museum.

The Maritshuis is home, among other things, to The Goldfinch and Girl With A Pearl Earring, the latter attracting quite a crowd as we enjoy the many works of the Dutch Golden Age. It's a lovely museum gallery and well worth the trip on its own.

Through the Binnenhof, the old Dutch parliament buildings, we walk to the small Museum De Gevangenpoort exhibiting preserved relics of past crime and punishment, and the next door Galerij Prins Willam V, a small but delightful art collection. By now it's lunchtime and we eventually find a suitable café in the town centre.

Wandering the shopping centre and arcades, we decide there's enough time to visit the Escher museum before Storm Ciara will hit and force us to stay. Twigs are already being blown from the plane trees as we approach what turns out to be a highlight of the trip. It really is time to head back to the station now and we arrive in good time to find a seat on the high speed train to Utrecht which is suddenly not going anywhere. Everyone piles off and starts to stare at the departure board and I quickly realise that the commuter train on the next platform is going to Utrecht and we grab a seat before it fills to the brim with passnegers from the Intercity. It transpires that the cancellation was due to a broken down ICE which we pass near Gouda with one of its pantograph hanging off. 

The on train guard tells us that there's an ICE coming that will get us to Utrecht marginally quicker than the commuter train we're on so we take the chance and get off at one of the small stations and wait for longer than we we led to believe but it arrives and without any more drama we get back to what is now a very blustery Amsterdam. It's too early for dinner and we always like to rest up at our hotel if we can, so we do. 

The trouble is now that the storm is in full sail and our restaurant is thorough soaking distance away and we enjoy tasty traditional Dutch fare while quietly dripping on the floor at the window table.

Day Three - Rijksmuseum, diamonds and cheese

There's a very nice café just around the corner from the back of the Rijksmuseum where we have a pleasant breakfast before heading into the museum itself. It's always worth a visit and today is no exception and we spend all morning there breaking briefly for a beer and apple cake. Between the Rijks and our hotel, which we have often passed without entering is the House of Bols and the Diamond "museum". Watching craftsmen at work before resisting attempts to sell us expensive diamonds passed an hour before we stride firmly into the House of Bols for an excellent tour of its history and that of Jenéver before cashing in our free cocktail chits, having another cocktail, spending a small fortune in the shop and striding somewhat less firmly out again. The rest of the afternoon is spent at the hotel.

On the way over, flicking through the Eurostar magazine, there's an article on cheese which includes a rave revue of a pop-up fondue restaurant in an old factory site on the edge of the Westerpark. It's a bit out of the centre but sounds exciting so I get the phone out, find the website and manage to book a table in what turns out to be a very popular venue. It's quite a tram trip and we warily enter the complex, passing closed shops but also some bars that look promising. Eventually we find it right at the rear and with some relief, as we're still an hour early, pile into a very 'hip and trendy' nearby bar for a pre-dinner drink. The night turns out to be brilliantly memorable, the food, welcome and service excellent and fully cheesed up we get the tram back to the hotel.

Day Four - North Amsterdam

The ferries from the Centraal Station across the Ij are frequent and free! We've decided that today we'll explore further afield and head towards North Amsterdam where I've heard of an artists community in an old factory which is a vibrant centre duting the summer but even in winter has much to recommend it. It sounds like a plan so we catch the tram to the station cross the Ij and breakfast at Pont Neuf. 

The area is being heavily redeveloped and it's a long and sometimes confusing walk to our destination but we clock a fleamarket on the way and eventually find out target which thankfully is both open and houses a more than acceptable bar where we recover from the chill wind with large coffees before exploring further. It's definitely interesting and will be on our agenda next time we visit in the summer but there's not much happening now so we head back to the fleamarket for a fun time regretting we did not have a large van with us. Calling up the bus timetable on the phone we find and catch a bus back to the ferry. Just along the way is the eyecatching Eye filmmuseum where we have lunch and spend the afternoon.

Our last dinner this trip is at De Belhamel, a very good restaurant, beautifully decorated in art nouveau style and with a great view down the Herengracht canal. It's very popular and the food is sublime, as is the bar where we stay for a nightcap before we go back to our hotel for the last time.

Amsterdam offers so much for the traveller that we will surely be back again, pandemic or not.

Day Five - Home

Our journey home suffers from the after effects of the storm as some of the high speed lines are unuseable and it soon becomes clear that we will miss our Eurostar connection as our Talys ICE trundles through some of the minor lines around Rotterdam, Eurostar are ready for us however and we are booked on the next available train. They've received some criticism lately for their attitude to honouring CIV commitments for those with separate rather than "through" tickets, but we do have through tickets and the process is clear and easy.

We grab pasties at Waterloo and get home about two hours later than scheduled. As I finish this, over a year later, we have only managed a drive to our friend's house in Germany in the summer for a few days and it looks unlikely we shall be heading abroad again until 2022. Fingers crossed.


Carbon saved 50kg

The Drachenfels Railway

October 2019

A quick post to celebrate this delightful rack railway running from Königswinter to the top of the Drachenfels mountain, just shy of 300m above the Rhine.

Sadly, it's only 1500m long so doesn't take very long to travel although there is a midway stop for the Schloss Drachenburg. The castle itself is a rather magnificent Gothic confection and worth a visit.

The trains themselves consist of two carriages with integral driver, run on overhead electric cables at a gradient of up to 20%. Very classic design.

Amsterdam

May 2015

Our third visit to Amsterdam was lovely; it's an easy-going city perfect for a short break and we always have a great time. Our previous visits have been in winter so a trip in spring is a welcome change, especially as on our first trip coincided with frozen canals and the lowest temperatures for 20 years. One of the main reasons we've come back again is to visit the newly refurbished and fully reopened Rijksmuseum as well as to enjoy a much needed holiday. Usually we opt for the Iamsterdam city card, but this only gives a 10% discount for the Rijks, so planning ahead I discover that there is also the 30 day Museumkaart which will get us in to everything the city card does, plus the Rijks, for free. Alongside a four-day travel pass from GVB it works out at much better value all round. Armed with this information and a clutch of train tickets we set off from Fratton on a promisingly sunny morning.

Booking a through ticket via Eurostar.com is both simple and usually excellent value as the Fratton to London portion can be very much cheaper this way and is valid for travel from whatever terminal you arrive at, across London, to St Pancras. However, every time we approach the underground clutching our Fratton to London International tickets, we are ever more certain that they will fail to open the barrier and we'll have to show them and explain ourselves to the busy TFL attendant to let us through. And then of course, out again. Why this should be is beyond me but these frustrations aside, boarding the Eurostar is as straightforward as ever and we're soon on our way.

Brussels midi station is still a bit on edge after the recent attacks, so the usually convenient escalator down from the Eurostar platform is closed.  We end up working our way around and down to find the Thalys departure area where no-one is as sure as our Eurostar train manager was as to which platform the train to Amsterdam will be leaving from. Twenty minutes, we are told, and all will become clear. Hanging about for this revelation in a rather stark waiting room is fine but there's no departure board in there or indeed any other information source so we're taking turns to check the board before our train appears proving the Eurostar announcer right all along. However, there's a little more confusion as we're initially directed towards the wrong train but a very helpfully strident platform assistant points everyone across to another Thalys arriving on the other side of the platform and we're soon hurtling through Belgium at speeds far in excess of those managed by even the fastest UK trains. A standard class seat in a Thalys is also much more comfortable, even if the much trumpeted WiFi is patchy at best.

Arriving in Amsterdam I realise my complacency in having been twice before means my planning has fallen short of actually getting to the hotel, I haven't even brought a map, so after buying our travel chipkaarts there's a few minutes working out where the hotel is exactly and what tram we need to catch to get there.

The hotel is in a very nice area by the Vondelpark and looks quite promising from the outside but once inside things get different very quickly. We have to pay in advance which is never a good sign, and there's no lift. We're on the third floor. Struggling up the increasingly steep stairs I manage to knock a picture off the wall before the stairs turn up the final flight almost vertically. The bed is great but the bathroom is pokey and a bit worn and, get this, we share a window with next door!

Tuesday

Breakfast is not included and at an extra €10 per person, not worth it, so we head off towards Museumplein for on the way is Bagels and Beans where we enjoy a fresh and tasty.breakfast in a funky setting before our visit to the Stedelijke, which is rapidly becoming my favourite modern art museum. Alongside the regular and intriguing exhibits there's a special exhibition of the Amsterdam School, the architectural style movement looking a lot like the bastard child of Charles Rennie Mackintosh and the Vienna Secession and absolutely fabulous.

Lunch is at our favourite old style (but actually modern) café up by the Blauwbrug. We discovered its welcoming embrace during our first visit that freezing February and spent half the afternoon lounging on their sofas drinking coffee and mulled wine and stroking the cat before venturing out into the cold again. Now unfortunately cat-less, it's still a nice place to go and we enjoy a fine sandwich before heading back to Foam, the photography gallery, where there's a couple of  thought provoking interpretations of the migrant crisis.

Our first two evenings have followed much the same course; beers at Het Hok before traditional Dutch fare at the very popular The Pantry two doors down. ''Traditional" here means various flavours of mash with a smoked sausage or giant meatball alongside other hearty cooking like ham hock and beef stew. The food is delicious and the atmosphere convivial.

Wednesday

Wednesday is all about the Rijksmuseum. Well, nearly all.
It's another sunny day as we stroll across Museumplein past the holocaust memorial and iamsterdam sign. The entrance to the museum is through the basement so, skipping the queues with our museumkaarts in hand, we dive in.

We spend more than half the day exploring the newly and brilliantly refurbished Rijks. And while much attention is focused on the "Gallery of Honour" with Rembrandt's Night Watch taking centre stage among some of the greats of the Dutch Golden Age, the lower galleries house examples of some of the most exquisite craftsmanship you can imagine and there are other stunning works at every turn. The museum displays are well organised, by date mostly, but it's worth taking some time to plan your way around as it's not necessarily obvious which is the best route to take. The first floor, for instance, is in two unconnected halves as the roadway cuts through it. All things considered it's a brilliant way to spend a few hours even if the lavatories are harder to find than you'd prefer.

After a late spot of lunch we head off across the city so we can visit Rembrandt's House again. Our route to Waterlooplein takes us for the first time in three visits along the metro, which is as clean and efficient as you'd expect and after a wander through the flea market we arrive. To my mind Rembrandt van Rijn was something of an alchemist with paint and a trip to this house museum is always a joy, for me at least. Today we are in time for the paint mixing demonstration and we discover they've recently opened the top floor showing the studio space his students would have used, and in the new building there's a great exhibition of nudes drawn by him and his contemporaries too.

Across the road is a bar on the canal and a much needed beer is enjoyed while watching the boats pass by. On the opposite corner of the canal, nesting in a half submerged boat, is a family of cootes and unfortunately one chick has got out onto the water. One of the parents desperately tries to persuade it back into the boat, a task seemingly beyond the chick's capabilities - the side of the boat is a good foot out of the water - unfortunately all to no avail as a seagull swoops down and carries the youngster away. Nature red in tooth and claw, so to speak, was not what we were expecting in this quiet corner of Amsterdam!

Today is also the day in the Netherlands when they remember the war dead. There's a two minute silence at 8pm and a big gathering in Dam Square with the King attending, which is throwing the tram schedules well out of whack and we end up walking most of the way back to the hotel for a rest before dinner. We've booked at the Koffiehuis van der Volksbond where we've dined on previous trips and it's just as lovely as before, even if it's a bit weird being there in daylight on a warm spring evening. A perfect end to the day.

Thursday

The following day is Liberation Day, a public holiday, and the crowds are out in force on another beautiful sunny day. We wander up to Dam Square with a view to seeing the World Press Photo exhibition at the Niewe Kerk but it doesn't open until the afternoon so we visit the fairly dull royal palace instead before pottering about the city centre and having a beer by the Niewe Maarkt.

After returning for the photography exhibition and some coffee and cake we decide it's high time we took to the water. There are boats of all types and sizes thronging the canals and more than one collision but it's wonderfully relaxed and good humoured and we have a ball.

Dinner is at a nice little restaurant in the centre that our friends have used before. There are no reservations taken at this very popular place so timing is everything. We get one of the last tables and enjoy a decent meal with excellent service.

Oh, and if someone offers you a Dutch salted caramel lolly just politely decline. If you don't, at some point later your mouth will be filled with the most hideous liquorice powder and you'll be left gagging into a nearby canal.

Friday

Friday morning sees us grabbing breakfast in a café near the station before catching the train home. Brussels' Eurostar experience is about the most relaxed of the three principal stations and aside from a brief stop at Calais, completing the set, we're back in London by (late) lunchtime. We're travelling back to Portsmouth via London Victoria and thanks to the ongoing disorganisation of British railway operators we stand, necks craned, staring at the departure boards for an eternity until just five minutes before departure it finally shows us which platform our train will be leaving from. This, naturally, precipitates a mad rush for a seat in the right part of the train before we can settle down for the final leg home.

Carbon saved: 50kg

Danubian Adventure - part two; Vienna

Day six of our holiday dawns and we're off to Vienna, picking up our tickets, first class this time, from the automatic machine at the station. The weather's turned, there's rain in the air, which by the time we reach the border is hitting the ground pretty hard. Budapest and Vienna are within spitting distance of each other and we roll into the Westbahnhof before lunchtime. Our hotel is six stops on the metro, near the Donaukanal. It looks a bit 1970s from the outside but is very comfortable and with a metro and tram hub right outside, handy for everything. The rain has eased and we wander into the centre and have a look round. I'm trying not to burst into song but there's a post-downpour mistiness and the steady beat of a synth drum in my head.

Just around the corner from Stephanplatz and its dark and brooding St. Stephen's cathedral, so different from its Hungarian namesake, is the Mozarthaus and we go in just as the rain restarts. The composer looms large across the cultural landscape of Vienna but despite this ubiquity we later manage to buy a small bust of Beethoven for our souvenir by mistake!
The museum is a fascinating tour through Mozart's life and times in one of his many Viennese houses with scores, a few instruments even some original décor. It also sets the record straight on the Salieri controversy. The rain has stopped again by the time we leave.

We've scouted out three options for dinner just round the corner from the hotel, but one of them is shut and another doesn't appear to be there any more so we head into the third. It advertises traditional Austrian fare and I'm down for an authentic Wiener schnitzel followed by apfel strudel. Obvious but so tasty. Sarah's main course comes in two halves it's so substantial. It seems a really genuine place, there's an old man and his very small dog at a table by the door and the patron is very friendly. We like it so much we eat here both nights.
A post dinner wander finds us back at the Stephansdom where an art installation is being projected on to the façade, and we stumble across a statue of Johannes Gutenburg, father of modern printmaking and arguably one of the most important figures of the second millennium.

Our second and only full day in Vienna is one filled with art and cake. It's bright and sunny again and we spend the morning in the MuseumsQuartier, principally visiting the Leopold Museum of modern art and being blown away by its brilliant Schiele exhibition as well as a well curated tour through the Vienna secession. After lunch and a quick tour round MuMoK it's time for a little more tradition.

We head off across the Burggarten towards the Opera, pausing to admire the large Mozart statue, and onward to the Café Sacher because today's afternoon tea just has to be the world renowned Sacher Torte. It doesn't disappoint. Wedges of chocolatey, cakey loveliness duly consumed, we catch a tram around the inner ring back to the hotel. It's been a few weeks since Eurovision and Conchita Wurst's famous win, but the trams are all decked in rainbow flags alongside the city standard.


The plan for our early evening entertainment before dinner is to visit the Wiener Riesenrad - cue bouzouki music...

We enter the park and the sounds of Mozart hit us again, this time accompanying the dodgem riders. The Ferris wheel dominates the otherwise modern amusement park and we buy our tickets joining the thankfully sparse queue. Halfway round it gets a little rocky and my hand gets a bit crushed as the vertigo strikes. Otherwise, it's a thrilling end to the day.

Our final day in the Austrian capital is even busier, even though our train leaves that evening. After dropping our bags at the station we spend the morning at the Hofburg Palace with its ridiculous displays of opulence and wealth. There's a museum devoted to the royal silver collection, elaborate place settings and the finest porcelain the Hapsburgs could plunder and a very interesting exhibition on the life of the Empress Elisabeth.
We pass out through the stables of the Spanish riding school, catching some of the white horses being groomed, and on to the Albertina gallery - also part of the palace complex. Curiously there's a large pink rabbit on the canopy and we decide to go in. This last minute decision to visit turns out to be very serendipitous as it's one of the rare occasions that the extraordinary Albrecht Durer drawings are on show, hence the rabbit. But that's not all, the whole collection is stunning.



We had planned to finish off the day at the market getting provisions for the evening, but first we visit the Secession Building. A stunning architectural statement and exhibition space it also houses Klimt's famous Beethoven Frieze. It's breathtaking.
Alongside the market, Vienna's version of the Hollywood walk of fame, the Musik Meile, is little more classy than its American counterpart, a succession of the great and good of classical music are represented; we spot Strauss, Berlioz, Tchaikovsky, Beethoven and of course Mozart before we wander off and spend a small fortune on our train picnic. There's a bar with a massive bottle of Aperol on display so we sit a while with a spritz but find we still have a couple of hours spare. We decide to bite the bullet and cram one more sight in so head off to the Belvedere Palace, a large gallery housed in the former summer palace of Prince Eugene of Savoy. It's a little way out of the centre and I have a minor internal panic about missing the train but half way round the tour is the reason we came; a heart-stopping room full of the most sumptuous works of Gustav Klimt. There's a small crowd gathered at the far end and as they move away, there it is; The Kiss in all its golden glory. A fitting climax to a wonderful trip, and one we nearly missed.

Vienna is so beautiful and we're sad to leave but the Cologne sleeper pulls out at 21:40 and we have to be on it. As we wait at the station we're briefly tempted to get back on a train to Budapest but we restrain ourselves and board the EuroNight train as planned. We tuck into our picnic with a glass or two of a tasty red and are asleep not long out of Linz. After a restful night, breakfast is taken as we speed along the beautiful Rhine Valley, waving to our friend Marlene in Remagen as we pass.

We have the rest of the morning to kill in Cologne and as it's right there by the station we visit the famous cathedral before joining the Brussels express for the Eurostar home.

Carbon saved: 210kg

May 2014

Danubian Adventure - part one; Budapest

May 2014

It's nearly two years now since our first self-planned big adventure, a two centre jaunt to Budapest and Vienna. After Venice we were determined to travel more by rail and after a successful trip via the Dutch Flyer to Amsterdam we set about planning a more ambitious journey. Travelling via Paris and Munich, we would spend four nights in the Hungarian capital before transferring for two further nights in Vienna.

We left Fratton early and got to Paris with plenty of time for lunch before we needed to board the train to Munich. It's a short walk between the Gares du Nord and de l'Est and en route you will find Au Train de Vie, a railway themed café bistro serving a very tasty tartiflette among other delights. A couple of beers to wash it down and we're off down the steps by the Gare de l'Est (as featured in Amélie) to await the Paris-Munich train.

The Budapest sleeper,
Kalman Imre pulls in

Schnitzel at Mongdratzerl

The train speeds through France to Strasbourg before taking a more stately progress through Germany, arriving at busy Munich Hauptbahnhof at around 9.30pm leaving a good two hours for dinner at Mongdratzerl (sadly now closed down) where we dive into our first schnitzel of the trip. Our sleeper to the Hungarian capital, the Kalman Imre, pulls into the station ready to leave less than half an hour to midnight, it's reasonably comfortable and we settle in for the night.
Quick tip: in every sleeper train we've used on our travels so far, the only real disappointment has been the wholly inadequate pillows they give you, so if you can bring your own, do.

Day two

Feeling thoroughly rested, we roll into Budapest Keleti station at 9.30 the following morning.

I had booked an apartment hotel, the 7seasons, close to one of the main transport hubs, Deák Ferenc Tér, which proved an inspired decision on both counts. The accommodation was excellent, all the comfort of an apartment with the service of a hotel, and it was really nice to only have to walk about 50 yards home at the end of a busy day's sightseeing.

One of the first things we had resolved to do was to sort out tickets for the match on the Saturday. The tricky part is, thanks to years of hooligan violence, to watch football in Hungary you need to be a member of a supporter's club. We head for the metro and find our way out to the Ferencvaros supporters club building, which turned out to be a dodgy looking concrete bunker on a street corner near the old stadium. We tentatively wander inside and are greeted by some bemused but friendly Fradi who take copies of our passports and our photos for our membership cards. We are now able to buy our tickets and be on our way.

The Budapest transport system is nicely integrated and easy to navigate so after our successful foray into the 11th district we took a tram to the covered market near the river. Visiting the market is always a good way to get to know a city and we thoroughly enjoyed poking around this impressive structure on two levels with household, souvenir and myriad colourful food stalls. We bought some interesting looking bits and pieces for lunch, as well as a pork fillet and ingredients for goulash, and some paprika to take home. We also secure our traditional "tacky" souvenir for our holiday shelf. Our picnic lunch is enjoyed sitting by the Danube before heading back home to drop off the shopping. 

In the afternoon we visit St. Stephen's Basilica. Handily, this imposing structure is not far from the apartment and we're soon marvelling at the highly decorated interior, more solid than the airy Gothic cathedrals we're used to. There's a lift up to the dome and despite a general wariness about heights, we buy a ticket up and take a turn around the outside and enjoy some really great views.

Our day is rounded off with a relaxing stroll around our new locality, a beer by the river and being entertainment from a man playing a wine glass organ in the surprisingly deco square. We also stumble across a stall producing these weird tubes of cakey stuff, doused in cinnamon and barbecued. Very sweet, very delicious and perfect after our home-cooked goulash.

Our first day in Budapest, also our first in the old Eastern Bloc, has been a real experience and we're exhausted.

Day three

The next day dawns bright and we head off to cross the historic Chain Bridge for a day on the hill of old Buda across the river. There are buses up the hill and you can, of course, walk but there is also a funicular and as you know by now we love a funicular. Our Budapest card includes a free guided walking tour of the old town so we decide to visit the national gallery in the morning before the tour at two.

The day by now is starting to boil so the cool of the national gallery and its fascinating tour through the history of Hungarian art, is very welcome. There's still time for a bit of a wander, a beer and lunch before the walking tour starts. We take in the lovely view across the river from Fisherman's Bastion where there's also a large eagle on the arm of its handler with tourists paying to have their photo taken with it. It doesn't look happy. We, however, are very happy with our lunch at a lovely and shady café nearby.

Our tour starts outside the impressive Matthias Church and Viktoria our guide is a relative novice but very keen. The heat of the day is now intense as we head back towards the gallery, a former royal palace, for a quick history lesson. There's a small concession stand and we pay a relative fortune for some much needed cold water which we guzzle as Viktoria tells us about the extraordinary fountain. Further round the tour is a drinking fountain and we again drink deeply and replenish our bottles. Every scrap of shade is welcome.
The tour despite the heat is very interesting, including the tale of student superstition, rubbing the balls of the equestrian statue, which Viktoria relates without blushing.

Fisherman's Bastion

We finish up back at the Matthias Church and grab another drink and a slice of cherry pie before catching the bus back down to the city. There are roadworks and the bus stop has moved but we find the right place eventually and wait. Half way down the hill there's a horrible noise and an amount of smoke: we've broken down and have to wait on the verge for half an hour while a replacement is sent out before we can continue, weaving our way through the now rush hour traffic to Deák Ferenc. Back at the apartment we take a much needed shower and a restorative drink before dressing for our night out.


Our evening is to be spent on the river. We've booked a dinner cruise along the Danube with Legende cruises and we have a thoroughly enjoyable, romantic evening. Dinner itself is not bad at all and we've secured a table on the top deck and as the sun sets, the city lights up for our delight.

A selection of images from our dinner cruise.

Day four

The next day is very much a day of two halves, When the Warsaw Pact collapsed and Hungary was free to determine its own future, symbols of the communist era were torn down and instead of being totally destroyed, many of the statues were shipped out to Memento Park and put on show alongside displays of life under the soviet regime. It's a fair way outside the city and we have to get a tram to the end of the line and catch a bus, as the direct shuttle from near the apartment goes and returns at inconvenient times for us. The bus wends its way through suburban Budapest for what seems like an eternity and just as we're losing hope drops us outside the park.

It's an eerie spectacle, and the power these statues once held is still evident even as ghosts of their former selves. There's a pedestal topped by Stalin's boots, a statue of Lenin cut off at the hip and a rusty old Trabant to boot. The museum's building houses a fascinating display charting the ill-fated 1956 revolt along with an unintentionally hilarious spy training film.

A hot and dusty couple of hours later and we're heading across town to the Széchenyi spa for an afternoon 'taking the waters'. It's a little run down, frayed around the edges, but has many saunas, steam rooms, and pools of all temperatures and it's a most welcome three hours of much needed R&R.

Day five

Our final day in Budapest in many ways proves the most hectic. There's a famous flea market on the outskirts somewhere, I'm still not entirely sure where, and we're keen to visit. I've clocked its name but for some reason have not planned a proper route. Unfortunately there's a metro stop with the practically the same name as the market and I assume it's there. It's not. Twenty minutes wandering around later we get a map up on the phone and finally work out that we need to take a tram and a bus from where we are to where we want to be. It's an irritating interlude but the market is a joy. Row upon row of everything from junk to fine art, vintage clothing and collectibles, and a great little café in the corner.

The afternoon is taken up with Ferencváros v Diógyor. We're knackered, sat on the bleachers in the full glare of the hottest sun we've experienced for years, knee deep in sunflower seeds. The stand opposite fills with green smoke and we feel for the mascot; it can't be easy wearing a large green eagle costume in this heat and he's clearly flagging. Ferencváros play out a comfortable 2-1 victory and the crowd goes home happy.

Our last dinner in Hungary is at a popular traditional restaurant by the river, complete with roaming musicians, a fitting and tasty end to our time here. In the morning we're off to Vienna.