Our first trip - Venice by train

March 2011

It all started as our silver wedding anniversary approached. Sarah had always wanted to visit Venice and I thought it would be great to be able to do this on the Orient Express, so I looked into it as a possible surprise gift. The "official" Venice-Simplon Orient Express turned out to be prohibitively expensive and actually a bit underwhelming in what it offered. Scouting around for alternatives we happened upon Planet Rail, specialists in first class rail travel who could offer a first class trip to Venice, four nights in a 4 star hotel and return via Montreux in Switzerland, staying at the 5 star lakeside Hotel Splendid, all for a bit less than the Orient Express charged for just the train. It also offered a great personal service and after a few chats on the phone, our trip was set.

We arrived way too early at St Pancras International and took lunch at Yo! Sushi before heading to the Eurostar premier lounge. Business class on the Eurostar is very comfortable; wide seats, a snack lunch and plenty of legroom, so the London to Paris leg passed very pleasantly. 

Our trip included all transfers so, having never been met by a driver before, we looked eagerly for our name being held up as we joined the crowds at Gare du Nord. We had ages to get to Paris-Bercy but our driver was clearly in a hurry and as we cut across the traffic to turn into the small station next to the Gare de Lyon, he hit the kerb hard and blew both nearside tyres and limped up to the station entrance. We left him staring forlornly at his damaged wheels and trundled our cases into the station and took the lift up to the lounge.

The Paris-Venice sleeper

Bercy is an odd little station, quite modern compared with many of the other Parisian mainline stations, and the first class lounge is very comfortable, but it's not very welcoming. We had the one free cup of coffee we were allowed and waited for our train, the sleeper to Venice, to be called. It was to be our first trip on a sleeper and also our first meal in a restaurant car. The food was ok, nothing special, but it felt fantastic to be sitting down to a proper meal as we sped through the French countryside. Our compartment was pretty comfortable and having had a smooth ride during our meal, the tracks got a little bumpier and helpfully rocked us to sleep.

Two Gentlemen on Verona station

We slept soundly though the Alps and didn't notice the scheduled stop at Milan. We were awoken with coffee and a strange, pre-packed croissant as we approached Verona where, conveniently, there were two gentlemen on the platform. Leaving Padua, the rural landscape slowly became a bit more industrialised as we approached Mestre and, as suggested, we tried calling the water taxi company to say we were on time but the language barrier and a poor connection thwarted our efforts. We were a little worried about being stranded at the station so we called Planet Rail and they came through, reassuring us that the taxi would be waiting.



If you ignore the large car park at the end of the causeway, approaching La Serenissima by rail has to be about the best way to arrive in this magical city and stepping out of Santa Lucia station to this view is breathtaking - especially when you then get met by a smart chap in one of the exquisite water taxis that serve the city. Venice is one city where, for the first-time visitor, everything is new and exciting. The trip to the hotel was a brief but fascinating journey, passing grocery barges, builders boats and even a water hearse, we arrived safely at the Hotel Ai Mori D'Oriente in the Cannaregio, away from the centre but close enough to be convenient.

The additional joy of this trip was the coincidental presence of our friend, and Venezianista, Christine whose own trip overlapped ours by a day, so having settled in to our room we met Chris for dinner and a few pointers to getting the most out of our stay (You too can benefit from here insights at www.littleguidetovenice.co.uk ). We met again for coffee the next morning before we headed off to our first stop, the vaparetto to the Gallerie dell' Accademia. By the time we got there the rain had started in earnest and was now tipping down. Unfortunately, the quick dash to the entrance was fruitless as we discovered we had to queue for a ticket at the ticket office which was situated OUTSIDE in a portakabin alongside the building, with no shelter. We joined the queue along with over 100 other people, so by the time we finally got in, we were soaked to the skin. Wandering round a gallery squelching is never pleasant but we enjoyed the art and were merely thoroughly damp by the time we stepped out again. The rain had eased but the clouds loomed ominously for the rest of the day.

The restaurant on the second night,
This was before the fish tank burst!

At the end of the first day the water
was nearly over the edge.

One of the best ways to see the city is on the regular vaparetto (water bus) services - get a season ticket - so we spent some time cruising the Grand Canal before spending the afternoon at the Peggy Guggenheim gallery. Dinner was at a great little diner near our hotel, with seafaring scenes on the wall and a delicious line in local seafood. The evening was brought to an entertaining end as their fish tank suddenly exploded. We left them to clear up and walked back to the hotel with the canal water lapping at the top of the banks.

Details are a little hazy now but our second day was taken up with what might be called the main sights. Taking the vaparetto to St Mark's we had a great time exploring the Doge's Palace, had a nice coffee in the square and watched a marching band of the Italian Army going through its paces - far more impressive than the RM band as they also have a bit of a knees-up as they go! We had decided from the outset to do as much as we could squeeze in, including a gondola ride. It's easy to feel a bit ripped off as they charge a small fortune for sometimes not very much but if you stay away from those at the main tourist spots you can get a decent trip for your money. We paid €80 and did not feel short changed at all.

After lunch we took a vaparetto out to the nearby island of Murano, historically famous for glass-making. Sadly most of the glass is now imported from places like Poland, but we found perhaps the last surviving works and went in for a demonstration. They showed us how they made their famous chandeliers and demonstrated glass blowing with a few tricks. Exiting through the gift shop we were happy to get what we now felt were genuine souvenirs - I'm particularly happy with my cufflinks.

Blowing glass in the last surviving glass works on Murano

It only rained on the first day we were in Venice and we managed to wear ourselves out packing in as much of the city as we could manage, even though we barely scratched the surface. Our third day was spent wandering the city again, mostly around the Rialto, its market and old piazze of San Polo where we found a small café for lunch and a spritz, spent a hour or two in the Scuola Grande di San Rocco marvelling at Tintoretto and discovered a beautiful little print works where we bought some book plates. Our wanderings brought us back to the station and we took our weary feet home.

On our last full day we decided to travel out to the colourful island of lace makers and artists; Burano. It's a fair distance but there's a vaparetto out to the Punta Sabbioni where you can catch another one to Burano. It's a pretty and quite peaceful place to spend a few hours as not many people take the trouble to go there. 

The colourful houses of Burano

Here are a few of our other pictures:

Rialto

Watching the football in a local bar

Gondolas outside the Doges' Palace -
the water is a little high!

Italian military band in San Marco,

More gondolas

An octopus at the marketplace

Our final morning in Venice dawned and we were picked up by another water taxi and returned to Santa Lucia for our morning train to Milan. The first class compartment was surprisingly full of families as we enjoyed our complementary coffee and brioche-like affair and politely declined the free newspaper. Approaching Milan, the railway seems to go through the worst areas of what I'm assured is a beautiful city, cities do seem to show their worst side to the railway, but the station itself is an impressive edifice and we found our way to a small fast food outlet for lunch before catching the train up through the mountains to Montreux on the banks of Lake Geneva.

The track to Switzerland winds past the beautiful Lake Maggiore and we enjoyed many stunning views in the spring sunshine before entering the Simplon tunnel to Brig. The rails then follow the Rhone valley to Lake Geneva and around to Montreux. Our hotel was just across the road from the station and our room had a wonderful lake view. One thing we noticed on our journey through Switzerland was the preponderance of vines - we had no idea the Swiss made wine in any quantity, so we ordered a bottle with dinner and jolly nice it was too. Dinner was ridiculously expensive but delicious and after a turn along the promenade, marvelling at the apparent incongruity of the Freddie Mercury statue, we turned in.

We had most of the morning to kill before our train to Lausanne so we resolved to visit the Chateau de Chillon a mile or two up the road. Swiss buses are as reliable as you'd expect and we had a good couple of hours to explore what turned out to be a fascinating castle on the lake before returning in good time for our local train to the regional capital. As we travelled along we noticed even more vines taking up every available space along the track-side and yet we still haven't seen any Swiss wine on the supermarket shelves here. At Lausanne we caught the TGV to Paris with lunch and wine included as we sped through the countryside on our way home, inspired to further rail adventures.

Montreux from Chateau de Chillon

Carbon saved: 160kg

Recollections of Lyon

September 2015

We were looking for a suitable destination for a city break in September and settled on Lyon ahead of Ghent. There's a new Eurostar service that goes directly to Lyon and beyond to Marseilles, but timings and prices meant we ended up booking the regular 'via Paris' option. 

It was to be our first journey through the Gare de Lyon and our taxi from Nord dropped us about as far from the platform we needed as possible - obviously not his fault, it's the regular drop-off point - but the station is very big with two upper halls serving about 25 platforms. The traffic had been pretty bad, so we only really had time to grab a quick snack from a concession stand before boarding the TGV south.

Lyon itself lies at the confluence of the Rhône and the Saône, is known as France's second city and for centuries home of the silk industry. I had booked an apartment near the Opera, down a pedestrianised street, and it was early evening before we arrived. It looked unpromising at first and, owing to confusion on my part about picking up the key, we found ourselves standing outside a large wooden door with no indication how we were to get in. A quick phone call and the owner texted us the entry codes and told us where to find the key to the apartment which turned out to be on the third floor in a building without a lift. Half an hour's grumbling melted away when we saw the very comfortable interior. Having settled in we went out to look for dinner and eventually found a nice looking café bar doing organic burgers and the like which we wolfed down with a bottle of local wine.

The following morning we set of for the tourist office at the Place Bellacour, a massive square at the heart of the city, to pick up our OnlyLyon City cards. Suitably equipped we hopped on the metro up to Croix-Rousse for the market.

We spent a marvellous morning browsing every imaginable stall and snacking on calf's foot salad - surprisingly delicious. We had noticed a promising looking café, Le Clos Jouve, and headed back there for what turned out to be a delightful lunch before taking the trolley-bus back down to the centre.

We're suckers for a funicular and Lyon has two. One ferries people up to Fourviére, the steep hill of Vieux Lyon, overlooking the modern city and where the imposing Basilique de Notre Dame sits. There's a lovely square with cafés and a stunning view where we sat a while with the peaceful atmosphere being complemented by the old accordion player at the gate, before visiting the cathedral itself followed by the nearby museum of religious art, which is much smaller than it makes out.

Back down near the riverside the narrow streets of the old town have many attractions, including the small but fascinating puppet museum, telling (among others) the story of Guignol, the local alternative to the Commedia dell'arte's Pulchinelle (Punch in England), created by an out of work silk weaver in 1808. After this we sat for a coffee and cake outside a particularly good patisserie. We enjoyed the local sweet delicacy; a praline tart, very pink and very sweet. And a major attraction for the local sparrows!

We jumped on a bus back home before setting out for dinner at the exquisite Restaurant La Cuisine just round the corner.

Day two in Lyon started with a trip to what turned out to be a gourmet food market at Les Halles - Paul Bocuse. Quite intimidating at first, we stopped for a beer before heading forth to buy ingredients for a magnificent birthday dinner; charcuterie, paté de fois gras, chicken, truffles, hand-made pasta and some local cheeses followed by some delightful little cakes.

Detail of the fountain at Place des Terreaux

The rest of the day was a museum day, starting with the Musée des Beaux Arts which fronts the Place des Terreaux with its magnificent fountain by Frédéric Bartholdi. The museum itself surrounds a cool garden courtyard and is full of antiquities and fine art. This happy couple of hours was followed by the even more brilliant Musée de l'Imprimerie. I'm fascinated by printmaking and indulge in some of the practices myself, so this was especially interesting for me but is worth anyone's while visiting, covering as it does the history of printmaking around the world as well as its special focus on Lyon.

Our dinner was as fabulous as it promised and we collapsed, bloated, into bed.

Our last day in Lyon was again a day of museums, topped off with the perfect end to a few days in the culinary capital of France.
First stop was the Musée des Tissus - textiles - not usually my cup of tea but very well curated with some exquisite fabrics and costumes. The attached decorative arts museum is in the manner of a furnished house through the ages, which we both loved despite the not so subtle attentions of the security guard following us around the upper floors. After lunch at the very friendly Café Marmot we grabbed a tram down to the Musée des Confluences.

This is just brilliant. A modern combination of history, science and natural history museums with gallery and performance spaces thrown in, in an ultra modern, statement building right on the confluence of the two rivers. This is a "must see" for anyone visiting Lyon.

Unfortunately, we were by now too tired to visit the currently difficult to get to La Sucrière, a modern art space created in an old sugar warehouse - part of the ongoing regeneration of the former industrial heart of the city. It was also the start of the Lyon Biennale so it was a double pity to miss it but neither of us could face the mile or so walk from the nearest transport stop and it was also getting late.

Dinner that night was at the Bouchon Le Jura, a hyper traditional restaurant offering Lyonnaise classics beautifully cooked. Luckily we got there early enough to secure a table, as we watched many others turned away, and had a lovely evening.



The next day we were up early to catch the bus back to the station, which we found eventually, hidden behind a building site. Otherwise, Lyon's transport system cannot be faulted - everything links up and one ticket covers all metro, trams, buses (regular and trolley), and funiculars. A couple of hours later we traversed Paris using the RER this time and found it much more convenient than getting a taxi. We were home by teatime.

Lyon is a lovely city and we're hopeful we will visit again, perhaps as part of a wider holiday to the Swiss Alps or en route to the Riviera, but we will go back if we can.


Carbon saved: 100kg

Casablanca part two: "...and back"

Casablanca is a huge, sprawling city of seven million souls. It's very busy and a bit grubby and there are really only two reasons for the tourist to visit; if you have an abiding interest in mosques, or to pay homage to the film (as I said at the start, the greatest film ever made, no argument). Another planning oversight means we've arrived on a Friday so the mosque is out - not open for tours on the holy day - which is a shame for us but we're only really here for Rick's anyway.

Here's looking at you, kid

Our hotel was on the edge of the old medina, but this is not Tangier and it's not that attractive. We find our way through it and along the main road to Rick's but we're the best part of an hour early. There's a square nearby with a park at its centre and a few cafés and we wander over an take a seat. It's not the usual tourist area, just an everyday café and we drink mint tea and watch the world go by. All sorts of people pass, all sorts of garb and modes of transport. Three young lads on a single moped nearly get taken out by a woman driving and texting but they make the gap before it closes.
Next door is a carpenter's shop and he arrives on scooter with the panels for a set of doors he's making. It's a lovely interlude and quite an interesting insight into life in Morocco's second city but Rick's is about to open and we need to be there on time.




Rick's Café Americain, the establishment at the heart of the film was obviously not a real place and the Rick's we are standing outside was only opened in 2004. It's heavy wooden doors open and we step in and secure a table for dinner, possibly one of the last available judging by how full it gets later. The interior is designed to be a faithful evocation of the movie version and it looks fantastic. I had feared it would be some awful pastiche but it's wonderful, just as you might imagine it would have evolved into over the intervening years, even in the hands of Señor Ferrari. The food is pretty good and the service is spot on, we have a wonderful evening.

Day 5: Casablanca to Algeciras

Back to Tangier

We have a fairly relaxed morning, the train back to Tangier isn't until after 11am so we can have a leisurely breakfast before checking out and getting another rickety red cab back to the station. Our driver this time is quite chatty and we discuss Morocco, the king, society and all the building work going on before he drops us off. Our train's already at the platform but we have time to get a sandwich to have later for lunch from a small concession stand before boarding. This time our co-occupants are an uptight looking French woman and a trio of young men who have the air of being 'up to something'. They spend half the journey to-ing and fro-ing and have a large wad of cash but they're no trouble and the journey is otherwise uneventful and we roll into Tangier 15 minutes late. The walk from the train to the station hasn't got any shorter and we need to go straight to the port to catch the ferry back to Tarifa so another taxi it is.

I can't help thinking that Tangier Port needs to start sorting its act out if it's to attract more cruise ships. Of course, the passport stamping requirements aren't their fault - a yellow form to fill in this time before a passport stamp to confirm we're leaving - but the boarding process could be streamlined and an escalator or two wouldn't hurt. There's a delay boarding as a nervous coach is coaxed on to the ferry and further delay when on board before we get under way at least half an hour behind schedule and, having boarded in daylight, it's now dark. I'm worried by now that we'll get stranded in Tarifa or get to the hotel in Algeciras after midnight, and the passport queue at the arrivals hall doesn't help matters. We also need Euros or we're walking the mile or so to the hotel. In the end, everything is fine; the bus is there, there's plenty of room and we get back to Algeciras in good order, there's an ATM and we get a cab to the hotel where there appears to be a dinner dance happening. Even better, the buffet restaurant is still open and we inhale a meal before turning in. Actually, just because our room has a balcony, we have a quick cuppa outside before bed.

Day 6: Algeciras to Madrid

The "rainforest" at the heart of Madrid's railway station

Up early for breakfast, we check out and get another cab back to the station. Our train is already there but the x-ray machine is not ready and it is ten minutes before we can board. This service takes us back through the Sierra Nevada, this time by a more direct route, and we arrive in good order at Madrid Atocha station which is Massive; there's a rainforest in the hall (with signs saying 'please don't abandon your turtles here'). We finally work out that we need to go up to the third floor to get out and across the car park to the chaotic three-lane taxi rank where we secure a cab, whiz round the ring road to the Puerta Toledo and are dropped outside Hotel Ganivet for our 3-night stay in the capital.

We like to go to a match if we can when visiting foreign cities and this time Atlético Madrid are at home. The stadium isn't far from the hotel so we decide to grab some lunch before wandering down to see if we can get a ticket for the match tonight. There are a couple of likely places around the Puerta Toledo and we sit down outside one, order a beer and a burger and relax. The family at the table next to us turn out to be English, and football fans also going to the match. In regular life they support Norwich City and we have a pleasant chat about football and our respective clubs before we head off to secure our tickets.

Vincente Calderón stadium is quite impressive and when we return the streets around it are thronged with fans from long before kick-off. We buy a packet of dried beans of some sort and some jelly sweets which turn out to be shaped like fingers. I don't know why, but sunflower seeds are de rigeur at a lot of foreign grounds and there are large piles of discarded shells under some of the seats when we leave. The match itself is very entertaining with Atlético running out comfortable winners despite a late and dubious penalty award to Valencia.

Day 7: In Madrid

First order of the day, after breakfast (standard hotel fare) is to get to the Prado before the queues get too long. Unprepossessing from the outside, the Museo Nacional del Prado is a treasure trove of the most wonderful works of art and well worth the €14 entry and more. Incidentally there's a ticket + guide book offer for €23 - take it; the guide book in question is a hefty tome, on sale in the shop for €19.50. It's hard to pick a highlight, Albrecht Durer's famous self-portrait is there, as well as the 'other' Mona Lisa. There's The Garden of Earthly Delights (Bosch), Fra Angelico's Annunciation, Rubens' Three Graces, and countless other brilliant and famous works. But the two that draw the most crowds, and for good reason, are Goya's 3rd May 1808 in Madrid and the famous and brilliant Velasquez portrait of Felipe IV's family; Las Meninas. We do our best and see most of what's on offer before we leave to get some lunch.

We decide to head for the Plaza Mayor, as recommended by our hotel clerk, but there ore no direct buses and the man in the information kiosk suggests it would be easier to walk the half mile or so. Madrid has buses by the thousand but they don't appear to go anywhere useful from any one starting point. We're tired and hungry and the walk is not much fun and we get there only to find it's subject to building work and lots of it. Eventually we choose to sit outside the Museo de Jamon for our lunch; a cold meat platter and pork chop/ham and chips. The building work that we thought was largely on the other side of the square starts in earnest right next to us spoiling any tranquillity we may have been enjoying and forcing us to flee, after paying, back to our hotel for a siesta.

We've booked an evening at a flamenco club, with dinner included, on the other side of town and thankfully the nearest metro line goes straight there, give or take a short walk. Doors don't open until 9:30pm with the show starting half an hour later. Madridians do not seem to eat before 9pm at the earliest and it's difficult to get used to but here we are, eager and hungry at Tablao Flamenco La Quimera and we're shown to a table right by the stage, front and centre. The food is simple but welcome and there's a glass of wine included for good measure. The show itself is extraordinary. This is not some touristy, night club version, but the genuine flamenco experience; three dancers, a guitarist and cantor entertain us for nearly two hours (with a break) with the most fabulous display of flamenco dancing, hot and sweaty. It's over and we're down in a tube station at midnight for the ride home.

Day 8: In Madrid

Last day in Madrid and we decide to take the tourist bus, eventually finding the nearest stop around the corner from the hotel. It's not a bad way to see the city but the weather's changeable so the roof remains closed for the morning, and some of the headphone sockets don't work. The gallery we want to see is closed on Tuesdays so we go back round to the royal palace. We grab a quick beer before going in but it's not as quick as we'd hoped and the day is turning out a lot colder than we'd expected. The palace itself is fronted by a large parade ground with stunning views over the landscape to the south, opposite this is the cathedral (because we wouldn't want the little royal dears to have to go far to church, would we?). Anyway, the palace itself shows off royal wealth and privilege in all it's hideous glory; chock full of sumptuous décor and furnishings in this still "working" palace but no photos allowed. The cathedral opposite is quite nice but nothing special.

There's another art collection in town and we decide to visit, grabbing a quick coffee and apple tart in its café before we start. It's the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza a once private collection of the most stunning art. We start with the temporary exhibit of Edvard Munch works themed by mood, which is an eye-opener, and then head for the main collection. We're about half way round and have to stop to take stock of what we've seen. The collection is so vibrant, it's astounding the breadth and quality of the work on show from El Greco and Caravaggio through Van Gogh and Degas to Matisse, Chagall, Rodin, Picasso all the way to Rothko and beyond. We are really glad we made the effort.



We go to catch a tour bus back round to the hotel area but it's approaching 6pm and they're scaling back operations so we have to wait about half an hour in the now very cold evening for a bus that's still working. We get back at about 7pm. A quick freshen up before we go out again for dinner. We've got a very early train to catch so we decide to eat early and locally at the Taberna Oliveros. What a joy this was, even though we nearly died of a chick pea overdose. It's a charming place, all tiles and quirky features with an attentive owner who appreciated our willingness to try the hearty local food, nearly killing us with kindness and dessert. A great finale to our time in the Spanish capital.

Day 9: Madrid to Paris

5:10am and the station is virtually deserted. The man at the x-ray machine won't start it up until quarter past so we wait. The train isn't until 6:05 but I'm habitually early, allowing time for every potential setback. Our train gets to Barcelona at 8:40 and it's full of businessmen even though it seems a strange commute, "Pride" is showing again and we're halfway there before the sun pokes its head above the horizon.

Breakfast at Barcelona Sants before we get the TGV back to Paris. This time we travel the coast in daylight and the promised flamingos are duly sighted, standing round in clumps in the Etang de la Palme and other coastal waters. Heading north from Montpellier, the weather turns wetter until we near Paris and much of the journey is spent dozing after such an early start to the day.

Our hotel for the night is 200m from Gare de Lyon and we find it quite easily. It's not a bad room but the whole place could do with a spruce up. We need to find somewhere for dinner and the nearby A La Biche Au Bois looks a likely place and it turns out to be a gem, and a very popular one too. We were very nearly turned away but they managed to find us a table for what was a great meal, topped off with a magnificent cheeseboard; oh, that Brie! Suitably stuffed, we waddle back to the hotel. Thankfully I've had the foresight not to book an early train.

Day 10: Home

Not much more for me to add. A croissant and coffee at a local café, the RER back to the Gare du Nord avoiding the large pile of vomit in the carriage, sitting in the always uncomfortable Eurostar terminal waiting for a slightly delayed train, habitual pasty at Waterloo before a better than usual SWT train to Fratton.
Home from one of our better holidays.


Carbon saved: 270kg

October 2015