tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61551283438579907632024-03-12T23:58:49.876+01:00Cycles of NatureHaiku and other adventures...Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-44249097005713805742012-11-03T04:34:00.001+01:002012-11-03T04:34:09.757+01:00Gong <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The air, thick with spring,<br />
tarmac beckoning once more -<br />
to the 'gong we ride.<br />
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Tomorrow I will clip in to my new bike (!) and head off on the road again.<br />
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Just a day trip this time, without luggage but with many companions. A ride with a difference - to raise money to help those suffering from MS - Multiple Sclerosis. To help fund research, to help find a cure perhaps, to help people do everyday things that we take for granted. Like riding a bike.<br />
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To donate to this worthy cause simply click on the link below. Even though the ride is tomorrow, donations are still accepted until the end of November.<br />
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<a href="http://register.gongride.org.au/2012-Sydney-to-Gong-Bike-Ride/gabriellemassey">http://register.gongride.org.au/2012-Sydney-to-Gong-Bike-Ride/gabriellemassey </a><br />
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<a href="http://www.gongride.org.au/"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://register.gongride.org.au/images/banners/1341902524.jpg" /></a> <br />
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And the new bike ?<br />
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After much deliberation I decided on a Surly Long Haul Trucker. Basic black with 26" wheels (Schwalbe Marathon Plus 1.75" tyres), trekking bars, half and half pedals (an adventure in itself, learning to ride, or rather to mount and dismount, using these) and of course my old worn in Brooks B67 S.<br />
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It's still a work in progress, lacking mud guards and racks but I have begun the gradual pannier makeover with an Ortleib bar bag. And Neil's new bike ? It is scheduled to make an appearance next year...<br />
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*text & pics - Gabby<br />
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Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-36269244220639617942012-02-03T14:28:00.000+01:002012-02-03T14:28:09.217+01:00Crazy Guy on a Bike<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Trapped between four walls,<br />
I'd rather canvas again -<br />
memory's sweet sting.<br />
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Finally, now the Christmas craziness at work is over, and since the rain here in Sydney has been relentless, I've had time to finish putting the gory details of our jaunt across Europe into readable form. Well, I hope, anyway.<br />
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If you would like to read more about our bike journey last year either click <a href="http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/?o=1&doc_id=9644&v=V7">here</a> or go to the Crazy Guy on a Bike website (there is a link on the right of the page) and search for 'Blame Dervla Murphy' by Gabrielle Massey.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Camping in the Fontainebleau Forest</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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And while you're there get inspired by all the other excellent journals...<br />
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</div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-78839005501987559852011-10-12T05:48:00.000+02:002011-10-12T05:48:34.490+02:00Of Bush and Beach<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">High up in the gums <br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Kookaburra laughs madly,</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Magpie's notes ring clear.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Well, it's been a couple of weeks of culture shock but we've finally become accustomed (or is that enured?) to hearing the Australian accent, to cycling on the left side of the road and to having more than two sets of clothing to wear.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Relaxing at my mother's house in Brisbane's bayside suburbs, we were awoken early every morning by an avian chorus – magpies, butcher birds, kookaburras, rainbow lorikeets, scrub turkeys and top knot pigeons all vying for her attention and for food. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Kookaburra on mum's front patio</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hungry magpie and butcher birds</i></span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">At night randy koalas grunt from the tree tops and flying foxes chatter and screech in the trees out back. A couple of large blue tongue lizards roam the back yard. And there's a redback on the toilet seat. Only joking - the redbacks are in the garage.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">It's nice to see wild life again.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Our first task once we arrived (after sleeping off the long flight) was to find a replacement bike for Neil. Unfortunately we had to leave Neil's bike behind in Istanbul. It was either that or pay €1000 excess baggage – we flew with Emirates and had to include the bikes in our 30kg luggage allowance. Despite bringing barely any clothing back with us, the bikes (boxed), panniers, camping gear and a few souvenirs had us weighing in at nearly 40kg each, sans carry-on. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">At €50 per kilo for excess baggage, we decided it was easier (and cheaper) to replace one bike than our camping gear. So Neil's bike, having had the most problems along the way, lost out. We stripped off the Tubus and Old Man Mountain racks and the Brooks saddle before leaving the bike in a box with a sign 'free to good home'. Hopefully somewhere in Istanbul, someone is now enjoying riding a free mountain bike they found near the airport. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">As luck would have it, the second bike shop we visited, on Middle Street in Cleveland (can't remember the name but it was something like RT's Bikes), had a second hand Trek 520 touring bike for sale – one of the models we had been thinking of upgrading to. Neil snaffled that quick smart. We also got plenty of good advice on where to ride and where to avoid (very handy as Brisbane and Australia in general does not seem to have a good reputation for driver tolerance of cyclists – a couple of cyclist deaths in the first week we were back made us more cautious than usual on the roads).</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">After a couple of rides around Wellington Point, Cleveland Point and Victoria Point, I was keen to go further afield – to North Stradbroke Island. Or Straddie, as the locals call it. A large island in Moreton Bay, North Stradbroke Island has kilometres of sandy surf beaches - Main Beach on the eastern side is 32km long. After Fraser Island, it is actually the second largest sand island in the world. Point Lookout, on the northeastern corner, is at this time of year a popular place to watch for migrating whales. I hadn't been there since my university days more than 25 years ago and figured it was time to revisit.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">We waited for my sister and her family to join us from Sydney, the kids on school holidays. Then we all trooped over one fine Saturday on the water taxi, to join more family already camped at Adder Rock near Point Lookout. They had already seen whales and dolphins off the beach near Adder Rock but we weren't to have the same fortune.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>On the water taxi - Neil's bike's first proper outing</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Neil, not happy at being on the other side of the camera</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Keen to arrive at Straddie</i></span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The road from Dunwich (there is only one road) where the water taxi terminates is fairly smooth with a hard shoulder, that we used as a cycle lane, most of the way to Point Lookout. Through bush all the way, it undulates diagonally across the island for close to 20km. A lot of the bush has been regenerated after sand mining. The majority of cars passing us were four wheel drives, festooned with multiple fishing rods, kayaks, surf skis and surf boards. It is possible to drive along Main Beach by four wheel drive, after purchasing a permit. In the centre of the island is Blue Lake National Park, which we didn't visit this time.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">However, we did enjoy a lovely refreshing swim in the surf under the warm sun (our previous sea swim was in Donegal last October which was hypothermia inducing rather than refreshing). And had some fun on the sand dunes at Cylinder Beach. Did I mention the Gelati van that comes around to the campsites? Mmmmm.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Toby digging in the sand while Neil and Ethan wait for a wave</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Ethan and Sam catching a wave, Toby still digging</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Lisha chilling out, Home Beach</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Sam surfing the sand at Cylinder Beach</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Riley, speed demon</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Great view from the top</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC5mx3Vq3Nq8SmgwvEtmIzCoFSieEelnl9a5K2qm9-Wc8GDeoVbNthuG7ZdfEcGwA5prStHSyhlxUiNVIGbMhZzA0CAAb7Dq1flnqgX7loRmNfsNjRNFci902BL1v8QfDeMCXQGjwAiWSU/s1600/untitled-77.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC5mx3Vq3Nq8SmgwvEtmIzCoFSieEelnl9a5K2qm9-Wc8GDeoVbNthuG7ZdfEcGwA5prStHSyhlxUiNVIGbMhZzA0CAAb7Dq1flnqgX7loRmNfsNjRNFci902BL1v8QfDeMCXQGjwAiWSU/s640/untitled-77.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>It's not as easy as it looks on the coke ads</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLwKWZpato2zIW9kXIy_amMbZTkhGNlDmpKlSJpDEy6WuT1BLdOA7EidRyrgSS04gj1DoEeuT7bE5rxqS7w4cKuof-nkUDrsDykAEd7484c0BcMHZeE7jhoWxqFwgld_C9qU2hAJQfhQ52/s1600/untitled-79.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLwKWZpato2zIW9kXIy_amMbZTkhGNlDmpKlSJpDEy6WuT1BLdOA7EidRyrgSS04gj1DoEeuT7bE5rxqS7w4cKuof-nkUDrsDykAEd7484c0BcMHZeE7jhoWxqFwgld_C9qU2hAJQfhQ52/s640/untitled-79.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Neil and Riley on the walk back to Cylinder Beach</i></span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">We'll be back for a longer trip another time, I think.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Meanwhile, we have now decamped to Wagga Wagga via Sydney where we are catching up with Neil's family. And unfortunately the time has come to stop lazing in the sunshine and start heading back to the real world – to the rat race, to start looking for work. Where we will be in several weeks time is anybody's guess...<br />
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*<br />
words - Gabby, photos - mostly Neil</div></div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-23319216279009417172011-09-12T21:44:00.000+02:002011-09-12T21:44:01.717+02:00Byzantine wanderings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Evening prayer call<br />
echoes around the meydan,<br />
under full moon's light.<br />
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After a night that seemed to contain at least 24 hours, including two very interesting border crossings, we arrived at last in Istanbul last Friday morning. By bus. Yes, we cheated. We <u>only</u> cycled to the Black Sea. From Dublin. And frankly, considering the state of the Bulgarian roads, we're quite glad we caught the bus.<br />
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Leaving the bus station at first light we cycled along the shore of the Sea of Marmara until it became the Bosphorus, skirting the oldest parts of Istanbul until we rounded into the Golden Horn and located our pension - right by the old citadel wall. Expecting a navigational nightmare, we were pleasantly surprised at how easy it was.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8fUs3k1yEynULuLZee26QRAalBdP4YYuXxyrFNvI08MQqyh92p2tmKRYkAg47_YV8kBylZsaZm2tQ8Wr85E2KDlDd9Y7j3MzaNnqtcdiKubpNqr09Swhv1RAYKXU4M6hn-4-CoC7HxT6k/s1600/20110909-_DSC5104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8fUs3k1yEynULuLZee26QRAalBdP4YYuXxyrFNvI08MQqyh92p2tmKRYkAg47_YV8kBylZsaZm2tQ8Wr85E2KDlDd9Y7j3MzaNnqtcdiKubpNqr09Swhv1RAYKXU4M6hn-4-CoC7HxT6k/s640/20110909-_DSC5104.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Our first view of the Blue Mosque.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQv_orJHQDloEpNbeBpX0AVik2BRDs8QRsVQbGdSnXRa0JR6e-Z6VSF8u57jnxZlS6CiFVxBHv5BYQuNd0y0ALOLAZyK7zt79C99oUZVv4om-kqbACwAtimL8-2BazqJUYEnhwFIQW1mBB/s1600/20110909-_DSC5112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQv_orJHQDloEpNbeBpX0AVik2BRDs8QRsVQbGdSnXRa0JR6e-Z6VSF8u57jnxZlS6CiFVxBHv5BYQuNd0y0ALOLAZyK7zt79C99oUZVv4om-kqbACwAtimL8-2BazqJUYEnhwFIQW1mBB/s640/20110909-_DSC5112.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Looking over to the Asian side, along the Sea of Marmara. </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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After a bit of rest and recovery (from both the bus trip and our cycle journey), we set out to explore the city. So the last few days have been filled with walking, eating, exploring, drinking tea, drinking coffee, eating, people watching, talking, bargaining and even relaxing. We've not enjoyed the feel of a city so much since Amsterdam or Paris.<br />
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The weather has been delightful - blue skies and mid to high twenties every day, the nights balmy. We've even had a full moon. We are staying in the tiny shabby chic Sur Pansiyon, a short walk from everything and if we are here mid-afternoon, our hostess brings up a tray with tea or coffee to our room. Then runs off as quick as she can so we don't try to speak English to her, though we get huge smiles when we try one of our three words of Turkish.<br />
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Comic ice-cream vendors, friendly cats, loquacious carpet sellers, smooth Turkish delight, crunchy baklava, spicy meze, interesting old buildings, coffee you can stand a spoon in and the simple fact that ducking out for a kebab can constitute fine dining. We won't forget Istanbul in a hurry. It's been a fine end to our journey.<br />
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I'll not badger you with any more details but here's a few photos:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtm47V3rmdf5curDdupHND-riQyxywGWDYWB6kr-2hfYAK6SEeTEIqhmSTzcAuda-dzJjh4IAkFHDRm4HxY_S9bmrzLXzvt4GAz4XynZZ7LjEaclp2C6yXttMAd9UKopE4gqn6UP6iL1XB/s1600/20110910-_DSC5131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtm47V3rmdf5curDdupHND-riQyxywGWDYWB6kr-2hfYAK6SEeTEIqhmSTzcAuda-dzJjh4IAkFHDRm4HxY_S9bmrzLXzvt4GAz4XynZZ7LjEaclp2C6yXttMAd9UKopE4gqn6UP6iL1XB/s640/20110910-_DSC5131.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Inside the Topkapi palace.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCUHxXiiSlr0b4rJRJ_ST58ID2YyrSmq0xHWsIw16VhVg7iYWNBDxOIO9tNxsVbvg0_iam_DR9QwujUbdc3_qhHa6x-9qb6LVip1hy7oEUEZeYLUn4wVhIDxQAXzaoAbhBMxTRaeXUKtY/s1600/20110910-_DSC5139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCUHxXiiSlr0b4rJRJ_ST58ID2YyrSmq0xHWsIw16VhVg7iYWNBDxOIO9tNxsVbvg0_iam_DR9QwujUbdc3_qhHa6x-9qb6LVip1hy7oEUEZeYLUn4wVhIDxQAXzaoAbhBMxTRaeXUKtY/s640/20110910-_DSC5139.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Outside the audience chamber, Topkapi palace.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCcA7vL6c3IYRyZMyuvfdwwQpna7kn4lOIa9kJSjNn-q1wlAMtjTmT8CMiKve-6cyKzXzjcY1ZSFMpcNs0Meuc7lWvHXreJ3MHLWtba2DDy6V_4fTPLUTDE172E65WtYyv1XYjeWLlngFK/s1600/20110910-_DSC5140.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCcA7vL6c3IYRyZMyuvfdwwQpna7kn4lOIa9kJSjNn-q1wlAMtjTmT8CMiKve-6cyKzXzjcY1ZSFMpcNs0Meuc7lWvHXreJ3MHLWtba2DDy6V_4fTPLUTDE172E65WtYyv1XYjeWLlngFK/s640/20110910-_DSC5140.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Topkapi palace.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1JJApKwmk5uAiV8pSgTAIGTylAwYUAHDP9IKCk-TvQZdHzvO_H7Zfrv3OEOqzJTjgxwE33YoPb-vWK9MJd5eb9Ivt1pZXQe7QrYamSJ2rAUyzkoBlvMnQbBMN9JUZO07TyvVXi_4flzL2/s1600/20110911-_DSC5149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1JJApKwmk5uAiV8pSgTAIGTylAwYUAHDP9IKCk-TvQZdHzvO_H7Zfrv3OEOqzJTjgxwE33YoPb-vWK9MJd5eb9Ivt1pZXQe7QrYamSJ2rAUyzkoBlvMnQbBMN9JUZO07TyvVXi_4flzL2/s640/20110911-_DSC5149.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Blue Mosque from inside the courtyard.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHvHDO2u_SVgNWL0JilFITj9R3S4gHRLeqdySHFOLVVf8zz-K01z9McJohqts-whCKnvemoZzbqe4OQ4vITEy0-2JfE9WQ9i4_oBJqNKE-fEPxXT4mskPUJy8lIJGFEIHJQ39n4omoCI54/s1600/20110911-_DSC5161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHvHDO2u_SVgNWL0JilFITj9R3S4gHRLeqdySHFOLVVf8zz-K01z9McJohqts-whCKnvemoZzbqe4OQ4vITEy0-2JfE9WQ9i4_oBJqNKE-fEPxXT4mskPUJy8lIJGFEIHJQ39n4omoCI54/s640/20110911-_DSC5161.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Courtyard detail, Blue Mosque.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCe-xyNCkO7T1pCvJcHPdv05fIVxMR-zF6aOTQ640nK2AActgAFsTP-JFteq3m6KmfPlfCaRwkOJW9S_op38-MenFelVwfPhJrZ1HBMpaWaYfYa9WpqndM3WwZprF1rGMwIqcdmDDecUfc/s1600/20110911-_DSC5163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCe-xyNCkO7T1pCvJcHPdv05fIVxMR-zF6aOTQ640nK2AActgAFsTP-JFteq3m6KmfPlfCaRwkOJW9S_op38-MenFelVwfPhJrZ1HBMpaWaYfYa9WpqndM3WwZprF1rGMwIqcdmDDecUfc/s640/20110911-_DSC5163.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Colonnade roof, Blue Mosque.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0WpluvBoPLFQggMNeMU8bYmVuC_Dq-PUx5x0U5M8dUrEZgUvvPARIc04jvOzk6i0JSyjoA1N5sJSv1m-k_KvF7k8tq6eBJnbnGG3C61YtMuYc0HMSzCUY6bnnCVJ2RVcqx678quAYgW1/s1600/20110911-_DSC5180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0WpluvBoPLFQggMNeMU8bYmVuC_Dq-PUx5x0U5M8dUrEZgUvvPARIc04jvOzk6i0JSyjoA1N5sJSv1m-k_KvF7k8tq6eBJnbnGG3C61YtMuYc0HMSzCUY6bnnCVJ2RVcqx678quAYgW1/s640/20110911-_DSC5180.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Inside the Blue Mosque, beautiful decoration.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj38HwfMVytZMRgAtkLx_8QoLXKpWG0pT89MVtyHcOXXqi45uKjr6KMQ3jIMrQNIf85K-kraN7beZXLXcDRxOSm73OIiHiDVBNGhzqpYVBGE5L2M32I1TgZ-fIU5OgSN7sVa1DiADYaas2T/s1600/20110911-_DSC5184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj38HwfMVytZMRgAtkLx_8QoLXKpWG0pT89MVtyHcOXXqi45uKjr6KMQ3jIMrQNIf85K-kraN7beZXLXcDRxOSm73OIiHiDVBNGhzqpYVBGE5L2M32I1TgZ-fIU5OgSN7sVa1DiADYaas2T/s640/20110911-_DSC5184.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Gawking like a yokel, inside the Blue Mosque.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH7AqlzzWjgaK2IwVlDEMaeKir68_2vC-fnKLQusL15UCHZZ8f72-8klzba_nCDeHSpkgP_bFdcikXgc6oq5v4DrTt4UivkGCo9U_93KtX854r5hmOE70lYX-YzF4g9TMhDOxCTbiUyU2y/s1600/20110911-_DSC5196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH7AqlzzWjgaK2IwVlDEMaeKir68_2vC-fnKLQusL15UCHZZ8f72-8klzba_nCDeHSpkgP_bFdcikXgc6oq5v4DrTt4UivkGCo9U_93KtX854r5hmOE70lYX-YzF4g9TMhDOxCTbiUyU2y/s640/20110911-_DSC5196.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Sultanahmet - the Blue Mosque. It's just so photogenic !</i></span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1h5BAd7mOKhQ2Qa3OM4rd7Ncjr-KYMOus0Y87CHfVQA5KJG8xl1QDmnpgn9rr48Jt6wJPObBkD222PkZ9mlCBkV3R7nZ3rPmoeGF3Om_-JUFuUcjFbv5K8coD07q4RJkMIyCO2C35Ay-W/s1600/20110911-_DSC5265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1h5BAd7mOKhQ2Qa3OM4rd7Ncjr-KYMOus0Y87CHfVQA5KJG8xl1QDmnpgn9rr48Jt6wJPObBkD222PkZ9mlCBkV3R7nZ3rPmoeGF3Om_-JUFuUcjFbv5K8coD07q4RJkMIyCO2C35Ay-W/s640/20110911-_DSC5265.jpg" width="490" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Galata tower, over the Golden Horn.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMH40Xa-cBKg2PyENiFXOlB8yW_1RTxhBqvp-yT_XDfre31aWT41Pu39GX2wgSGOyPgvA2b_72v86E1V5MGrfEEOlOGkvJKvNEYk2dVgGUXwQ6ft5doy9IT9rswYVl8QvBAWHSYzIv8D5u/s1600/20110911-_DSC5301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMH40Xa-cBKg2PyENiFXOlB8yW_1RTxhBqvp-yT_XDfre31aWT41Pu39GX2wgSGOyPgvA2b_72v86E1V5MGrfEEOlOGkvJKvNEYk2dVgGUXwQ6ft5doy9IT9rswYVl8QvBAWHSYzIv8D5u/s640/20110911-_DSC5301.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Basilica cistern, built in the 4th century.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0QZKeiYS18es8ncBh_bOzJu59xNHMlp7jXQToxa-ML2lmcQPWezmIPVI17ZCVEpzNNvuMqy1f28x5JZgz3OxaBLzxjUI6BTqwz-WTybwRPuKxSafPcIpd5RfJ-cX8zvmPiGvt0MGesU4A/s1600/20110911-_DSC5313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0QZKeiYS18es8ncBh_bOzJu59xNHMlp7jXQToxa-ML2lmcQPWezmIPVI17ZCVEpzNNvuMqy1f28x5JZgz3OxaBLzxjUI6BTqwz-WTybwRPuKxSafPcIpd5RfJ-cX8zvmPiGvt0MGesU4A/s640/20110911-_DSC5313.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Typical Roman brick vaulting, Basilica cistern.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqcWZXi6QpvC6mH5Ywj8dZ_7OxPjWbip44RGXjyWg7rvHoEkVJqRF2E6tHIwtWbGnrpFZQd8R5JCDQ8cXPMJmNyYHrt1BUUFWzO1_nFK2t3pxVcUrMh82n1yfv-ShmAr9LHh3J_1DJydQg/s1600/20110911-_DSC5358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqcWZXi6QpvC6mH5Ywj8dZ_7OxPjWbip44RGXjyWg7rvHoEkVJqRF2E6tHIwtWbGnrpFZQd8R5JCDQ8cXPMJmNyYHrt1BUUFWzO1_nFK2t3pxVcUrMh82n1yfv-ShmAr9LHh3J_1DJydQg/s640/20110911-_DSC5358.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Inside the Hagia Sophia, showing the mish mash of Islamic and Christian decoration.</i></span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgids-ciwXTJNFgUJ6UDhzt7SuDfC0V4zv8eCcgYItzT_kYTKLoEXd70vs0dKQfnlb3aSUJMFCy6UOZ0GeDioW08o8epATA7rgi1KhRAWdOcTMdCiFIeNZd0SWunLqGD-KpW1v2RajCNlBN/s1600/20110911-_DSC5419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgids-ciwXTJNFgUJ6UDhzt7SuDfC0V4zv8eCcgYItzT_kYTKLoEXd70vs0dKQfnlb3aSUJMFCy6UOZ0GeDioW08o8epATA7rgi1KhRAWdOcTMdCiFIeNZd0SWunLqGD-KpW1v2RajCNlBN/s640/20110911-_DSC5419.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>One of the stunning mosaics, Hagia Sophia.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZsjmr3vtzbf76iArqP3h_Ofcsymlb-RmQDuvkY9Y7duWS2D-txHyjB6V6jmNT9cO7hGEVOgYnD0rZ94Vy3FMaDvlfI1oaCHxe1exZJPFRA7qlDlCKzTHEeU0Yz0FOhZ1zKVV7AdXYss2/s1600/20110911-_DSC5420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZsjmr3vtzbf76iArqP3h_Ofcsymlb-RmQDuvkY9Y7duWS2D-txHyjB6V6jmNT9cO7hGEVOgYnD0rZ94Vy3FMaDvlfI1oaCHxe1exZJPFRA7qlDlCKzTHEeU0Yz0FOhZ1zKVV7AdXYss2/s640/20110911-_DSC5420.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hagia Sophia mosaic.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTDP4YL10g-OyvGQ-ohMxzesLxFF58gH_PeSjKLGOe2QWbmwHvyh8sZB9lplIfuYihSYDw_BP0nIA2x-EBWe-l-yxyI5TlW53xWLoDmplSyecgYHCXy3xurMIK4qN6XhlaFQIohlRoeihD/s1600/20110912-_DSC5424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTDP4YL10g-OyvGQ-ohMxzesLxFF58gH_PeSjKLGOe2QWbmwHvyh8sZB9lplIfuYihSYDw_BP0nIA2x-EBWe-l-yxyI5TlW53xWLoDmplSyecgYHCXy3xurMIK4qN6XhlaFQIohlRoeihD/s640/20110912-_DSC5424.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Cat inspecting carpets in the Grand Bazaar.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Tomorrow we pack up the bikes and the next day, fly out to Brisbane for the next part of our adventure - living in the real world. <br />
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*<br />
words - Gabby, photos - Neil and Gabby</div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-51172576919097885982011-09-09T12:12:00.002+02:002011-09-09T12:30:56.748+02:00Pedal faster<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Men showing bellies</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">expansive flesh on display</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">what is up with that?</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Having checked our bank balance after a few more than expected hotel and pensiune stays in Romania, we came to the conclusion that in order to reach Istanbul before we completely ran out of money we had two options: pedal faster or eat less.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Naturally we chose the former.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">And just as naturally, it wasn't quite that easy...</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">After leaving our plush hotel room in Drobuta-Turnu Severin last Wednesday we started our push. That day we broke three records – fastest downhill (54km/h), longest distance covered in one day (132km !) and most hello's in one village (in Poiana Mare we must have been greeted by nearly every man, woman and child as we cycled through). </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The most common greeting was 'Buna', Romanian for hi, but we also heard hello, hola, salud and even one sawadee (Thai).</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">It was a long day, made even longer by our search for a quiet camp in the fields. There was no quiet corner anywhere – everyone was out in the fields from long before dawn to long after sunset harvesting then shucking the corn. By hand. Eventually we found a sheltered spot just off the road in a field that had already been harvested.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQL3C0KXBQQyqUWHnHnO4sW78bLP9HHaroasuCRgDUZKTDy1EGt6dTg5D89oBadv5U5eyNqfLhkg2V1nPS5r7UXScqiLsxkS8hIDnAeogyqrKl2Sntr-M1ZkGRtWWxcFmYTDkT5LuaqOV0/s1600/20110831-_DSC4955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQL3C0KXBQQyqUWHnHnO4sW78bLP9HHaroasuCRgDUZKTDy1EGt6dTg5D89oBadv5U5eyNqfLhkg2V1nPS5r7UXScqiLsxkS8hIDnAeogyqrKl2Sntr-M1ZkGRtWWxcFmYTDkT5LuaqOV0/s640/20110831-_DSC4955.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>One more long slow hill, Romania.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The other problem with wild camping is the combination of extremely greasy factor 50 sunscreen, copious quantities of road dust and sweat coupled with a lack of water. So we decided to alternate wild camping with pensiune stays where camp grounds weren't available.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">In most villages, the young boys would compete to see who could get close enough to high-five one or both of us. We just hope they washed their hands afterward. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Thursday night we stayed in a hotel overlooking the Danube at Corabia after a measly 113km, enjoying the shower and airconditioning as well as the cooked breakfast the next morning.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">By Friday, as we got closer to Bucharest, the villages were increasing in size and showing a little more wealth. The houses had more land around them, with a few flowers - not just used for farming. We still passed flocks of grey and white geese by the road side. Plenty of turkeys and chickens as well, and carts drawn by horse or donkey loaded up with corn cobs. But there were also more Audis and Dacias (the Romanian Renault rip-off) on the roads now. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXwM32Wbi7WLLBPQeRjAc9oXOADhdalLE27coHVXlzZQBQv406ZPaiPa-g1Xqp67vT7tiNyhsTEhDrAULcYMQppPT7Qqcmg8pi2Pcr0ZiNQrmSqW9aBPyGeT2NxhyphenhyphenyFznpJWPsWiDTUlj/s1600/20110902-_DSC4963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXwM32Wbi7WLLBPQeRjAc9oXOADhdalLE27coHVXlzZQBQv406ZPaiPa-g1Xqp67vT7tiNyhsTEhDrAULcYMQppPT7Qqcmg8pi2Pcr0ZiNQrmSqW9aBPyGeT2NxhyphenhyphenyFznpJWPsWiDTUlj/s640/20110902-_DSC4963.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Turnu Magarele, Romania.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Common to the rest of the world Romanian drivers, whether of horse and cart or brand new Audi, drive single handed – the other clasping a mobile phone to ear. Or even better, texting. We liked the way oncoming car drivers could simultaneously drive, talk on the phone, honk the horn and wave at us. We just wished they could stay on their side of the road while they did it.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Friday, we started to wilt. Neil's insomnia had been acting up and Iron Guts Gabby ate something that disagreed slightly (ok, it was more like a twenty round punch up than a slight disagreement but you really don't want the gory details). So we stopped at the only hotel for 50km in either direction after cycling only 88km. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Unfortunately it happened to be a four star hotel. With a bath. And wi-fi. And the hugest bed in the world. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Budget ? What budget ??</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Friday night we both got worse so decided to stay another night. Slight problem - no more rooms, the hotel was fully booked. So we had to ride on to the next town – more than 60km away. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Naturally this is where we hit the worst stretch of road in Romania. Huge potholes and stomach cramps do not mix well. Travelling extremely slowly, it took us most of the day to cover the 63km we could normally have covered before lunch.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Once in Giurgiu we relaxed for two nights in the comfortable Hotel Sud (slumming it in three star) before heading off on Monday, 280km to go to the Black Sea coast. It seemed so close, an easy three days we thought.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN7DBxWZQ13KVKndyApw0EIChXwNSdqPn0j9QaiXGXjdx7mLs5S52XNBDUAU0J8QYjNYipCgZuKGJvo7HOk2NS3gY9xyWO9T9RA0gP-GDz-vGoifgh3yDNOyaVJ9IAiKZeHjBf0Du8U4RL/s1600/20110904-_DSC4969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN7DBxWZQ13KVKndyApw0EIChXwNSdqPn0j9QaiXGXjdx7mLs5S52XNBDUAU0J8QYjNYipCgZuKGJvo7HOk2NS3gY9xyWO9T9RA0gP-GDz-vGoifgh3yDNOyaVJ9IAiKZeHjBf0Du8U4RL/s640/20110904-_DSC4969.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Concrete apartment block next to our hotel, Giurgiu, Romania.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Not quite feeling recovered, we still managed to cover 117km over countryside becoming steadily more hilly. Another long day, another wild camp, another field, another stunning sunset, another wonderfully starry night. For the first time we were starting to look forward to finishing our journey rather than enjoying the journey itself.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisa_2HHbKW2ehgnx2rT4hV2I5hGdNAI75gUvww1iKp47cOHuJUgAMNlY5oyUiNmAQaRmNSv5CJysLgote8HVvRSMJXZghGyCIBsxrSB9cPWD65fWx_lECJqNU7uJITQKMmE4NIzsiGkNN7/s1600/20110905-_DSC4976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisa_2HHbKW2ehgnx2rT4hV2I5hGdNAI75gUvww1iKp47cOHuJUgAMNlY5oyUiNmAQaRmNSv5CJysLgote8HVvRSMJXZghGyCIBsxrSB9cPWD65fWx_lECJqNU7uJITQKMmE4NIzsiGkNN7/s640/20110905-_DSC4976.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Neil cooking dinner at sunset, wild camp near Calarasi, Romania.</i></span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFG_OISol5L-waT4olxofj3MAJqSWfdlvjepkgB08f-u_RPU5iLUt43Ivij5fv7rpO68SkWeXFUrCt4hFD6eNRRU9Q016cO-7bmv1_SPDS_CfplxfIFsw0lZzGuA4iNzPsoD9lrEns08GS/s1600/20110905-_DSC4977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFG_OISol5L-waT4olxofj3MAJqSWfdlvjepkgB08f-u_RPU5iLUt43Ivij5fv7rpO68SkWeXFUrCt4hFD6eNRRU9Q016cO-7bmv1_SPDS_CfplxfIFsw0lZzGuA4iNzPsoD9lrEns08GS/s640/20110905-_DSC4977.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Another peaceful sunset.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghPNS8xj4koiiN7-gqb1zTlc978Jse3tWIAdG1gT6VUCAQhrvQrtMxwb4eHZFiEN539qDQHLtQHwM34-2Ba3_LFMb_0zqi5BVRYgdO7dvGdCD05IZ5GTIs2nXdd5UF94sGKINxhS1DsDR2/s1600/20110906-_DSC4983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghPNS8xj4koiiN7-gqb1zTlc978Jse3tWIAdG1gT6VUCAQhrvQrtMxwb4eHZFiEN539qDQHLtQHwM34-2Ba3_LFMb_0zqi5BVRYgdO7dvGdCD05IZ5GTIs2nXdd5UF94sGKINxhS1DsDR2/s640/20110906-_DSC4983.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Dawn over our camp, in a corner of someone's field.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjARMxSZ2We5DADepZ_86h8A9CU1UlWAf75kr4FNj_GeqHYMP3Wc5pt18kSXE8ZM5fwQNn_6FefSW9WHXTWEx2TpXKnUA1UVSh-8XBlW-om8sP2DepS29m6MEe-7HxbIeXDe6F-Bzd9R6Pe/s1600/20110906-_DSC5001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjARMxSZ2We5DADepZ_86h8A9CU1UlWAf75kr4FNj_GeqHYMP3Wc5pt18kSXE8ZM5fwQNn_6FefSW9WHXTWEx2TpXKnUA1UVSh-8XBlW-om8sP2DepS29m6MEe-7HxbIeXDe6F-Bzd9R6Pe/s640/20110906-_DSC5001.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The long grasses are covered in tiny white snails.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The second last day, Tuesday, was the worst. After crossing the Danube by ferry to Silestra, we continued along the south side of the river before farewelling it, our companion of the last couple of thousand kilometres, and heading for the coast. At Silestra we met some new, unwelcome, travelling companions – cobble stones.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Cobble stones are pretty enough to look at and certainly lend an air of historic credibility to a village. But to cycle upon – well, printable words fail me. Between Silestra and Ion Corvin, where we collapsed on Tuesday night (in a bed), a distance of more than 50km, possibly one third of the road was cobbled.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Think of the saying 'cobbled together' and you have a better mental image of the roads we travelled. We didn't even take any photos we were so shook up. And after nearly 5000km of puncture-free cycling, I manged to get a puncture (through kevlar lined tyres) after a really rough section. There were also lots of hills. With cobbles.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMdhmpC1lWjDmgVROHfjpP3T7v50SnzuptBHPP4avjGU-jC-GYTDYq9udxW4hkvP5qOLXphi4rD4HX9kANM8sYCWICyAXxnnk9a-sbTgj29vGk_i3sth9MMtz7okBdprWgL57CpXXLa0K/s1600/20110906-_DSC5002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNMdhmpC1lWjDmgVROHfjpP3T7v50SnzuptBHPP4avjGU-jC-GYTDYq9udxW4hkvP5qOLXphi4rD4HX9kANM8sYCWICyAXxnnk9a-sbTgj29vGk_i3sth9MMtz7okBdprWgL57CpXXLa0K/s640/20110906-_DSC5002.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Roadside workshop.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The scenery was actually quite nice - large expenses of grape vines, roads lined with walnut trees and a few enormous fields of sunflowers ready for harvest, that would have looked amazing in early summer in full flower.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmuK9_QozdMdDMTaxonxTsi1t5A_i88lNRDXEl4XWPcYWL4ksz7kpfF8jxG8XtJg9ZMRd1L6oD-_el_PbiVEXjYjK0LoJ_IZZhb0hCexYLj37Oep2UynToduQjos1YFa4GJA7NSxSGWJzB/s1600/20110906-_DSC5007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmuK9_QozdMdDMTaxonxTsi1t5A_i88lNRDXEl4XWPcYWL4ksz7kpfF8jxG8XtJg9ZMRd1L6oD-_el_PbiVEXjYjK0LoJ_IZZhb0hCexYLj37Oep2UynToduQjos1YFa4GJA7NSxSGWJzB/s640/20110906-_DSC5007.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Our last glimpse of the Danube, east of Silestra. </i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6O7CwxleekzIb0CPj5Lll19ZCO0LK8T47jyTKoSTc4MNy-dhFnXQIo1yp6HZH3PoSHZJFfTj7_UHyMWddnIeztRrj0qwmvbePVgafmS1sOuM3F1lEy0poeRYW9ak2u4_xU5L1IFVdO0w/s1600/20110906-_DSC5009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6O7CwxleekzIb0CPj5Lll19ZCO0LK8T47jyTKoSTc4MNy-dhFnXQIo1yp6HZH3PoSHZJFfTj7_UHyMWddnIeztRrj0qwmvbePVgafmS1sOuM3F1lEy0poeRYW9ak2u4_xU5L1IFVdO0w/s640/20110906-_DSC5009.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Interesting pensiune decor, Ion Corvin, Romania.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Wednesday. At last. Our final day on the road. Luckily there were no more energy draining cobbles after Ion Corvin, and after the first 40km even the hills started flattening out as we got closer to the coast. Then the busy roads started and we were among city traffic again.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYL4Jt0c1yMAoJVUwinrmFd33U1hz7GehPu4_SdTCPCjXcG-u_XjwHGlGrZUo1MScsStNLIgHkzj2QvZNwS6tDQKHprOSKE4Yo5AHyrxYppXU4GHoh_vJ1KtKE4GqQtL24-Cp7Nk0Q8fhy/s1600/20110907-_DSC5031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYL4Jt0c1yMAoJVUwinrmFd33U1hz7GehPu4_SdTCPCjXcG-u_XjwHGlGrZUo1MScsStNLIgHkzj2QvZNwS6tDQKHprOSKE4Yo5AHyrxYppXU4GHoh_vJ1KtKE4GqQtL24-Cp7Nk0Q8fhy/s640/20110907-_DSC5031.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Roadside picnic table, with accompanying rubbish tip.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaiP87hHoa2JmiFFnGoScPWDM2DkmNC-peDJ9gQLeWxDxJHTOfd5bNW8XfC2azAfoXmiH6DsfxjMMTMOkJGV3nm5jGAKQO1ZV1Ykg_4YKMKprFIYKKDjYQGQx5X5i4qylj50Kau1nT2tCy/s1600/20110907-_DSC5041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaiP87hHoa2JmiFFnGoScPWDM2DkmNC-peDJ9gQLeWxDxJHTOfd5bNW8XfC2azAfoXmiH6DsfxjMMTMOkJGV3nm5jGAKQO1ZV1Ykg_4YKMKprFIYKKDjYQGQx5X5i4qylj50Kau1nT2tCy/s640/20110907-_DSC5041.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Monastery near Adamscli, Romania.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrs_KcDXz3QDuOG2v8bzSnPGzVZNdc4ZTxsBVenkBOe8EmbQr4iMWj9EclXTX6w2SAbVR5jEKlHzFsnqzMMaqqzRGmk5RAzQY_1UIRhSnAu-bLA6pnHOAi3Yikv5164PyTWAxQirL3leF/s1600/20110907-_DSC5058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrs_KcDXz3QDuOG2v8bzSnPGzVZNdc4ZTxsBVenkBOe8EmbQr4iMWj9EclXTX6w2SAbVR5jEKlHzFsnqzMMaqqzRGmk5RAzQY_1UIRhSnAu-bLA6pnHOAi3Yikv5164PyTWAxQirL3leF/s640/20110907-_DSC5058.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Picnic lunch in the shade of a walnut.</i></span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_MABdPigcUec5chIbavi0DVXeFxGNYIGJkx4z8RsoP3hIrkZrD_MHEBky5LuZ9OLH4IOJgFCawkUqZsN3bM7d5YUaURDiGbcrO8fxMVKNhGK9Tho2dIvZlCN_yCW_GpYEwxDiwnQjcB4b/s1600/20110907-_DSC5060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_MABdPigcUec5chIbavi0DVXeFxGNYIGJkx4z8RsoP3hIrkZrD_MHEBky5LuZ9OLH4IOJgFCawkUqZsN3bM7d5YUaURDiGbcrO8fxMVKNhGK9Tho2dIvZlCN_yCW_GpYEwxDiwnQjcB4b/s640/20110907-_DSC5060.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Only 35km to go !</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgutn14pH2RK1Fe6pO8zDGhYvLb_6ddRJv36P6CeizzSdcR8figV8TQSgch60f60FjeN4AmfSolMWi2Nvf6a6Vb7BzOsI27fL2a4MjJDeJJ_OGjeMHZvlGvPJ9ym1HPNjhERwKAr7jjD3eD/s1600/20110907-_DSC5063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgutn14pH2RK1Fe6pO8zDGhYvLb_6ddRJv36P6CeizzSdcR8figV8TQSgch60f60FjeN4AmfSolMWi2Nvf6a6Vb7BzOsI27fL2a4MjJDeJJ_OGjeMHZvlGvPJ9ym1HPNjhERwKAr7jjD3eD/s640/20110907-_DSC5063.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Last leg on a busy highway with no shoulder.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">All we wanted to do was to get to the water, maybe have a swim, definitely have an ice-cream, then find a hotel. Naturally it wasn't that easy. Navigating city traffic with a really basic map (no street names) is never fun and at the end of a very tiring three days cycling, Neil made one last heroic effort and finally got us to the water's edge.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0G477Sq8NvWMcTsXMvAhmrw1Pk0t3oPRbAJAGxeQpkV1Iwclqn_PBp5SXvHDCxhuRRl3CwrLdo9OnPoO0vB6oYXC84_Fzyjo0GezXKaOTqdyUntn2lQTn81ryQtGzHh_Er7mO1z5hraLy/s1600/20110907-_DSC5068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0G477Sq8NvWMcTsXMvAhmrw1Pk0t3oPRbAJAGxeQpkV1Iwclqn_PBp5SXvHDCxhuRRl3CwrLdo9OnPoO0vB6oYXC84_Fzyjo0GezXKaOTqdyUntn2lQTn81ryQtGzHh_Er7mO1z5hraLy/s640/20110907-_DSC5068.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Traditional self photo - us by the Black Sea !</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NpaWruAEqg9zHNFypaiDdXQPFAEG74TEt0_K8mQdr889U2aUXfXufHfbFQFLM8M1d4DqJKE-r5TWSFfT0GF4j8eH1juUqI7SBGcob_2YsUspqXnB8DDU_iIzTsFfsrX1uh1Gu6Ho6jgh/s1600/20110907-_DSC5076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NpaWruAEqg9zHNFypaiDdXQPFAEG74TEt0_K8mQdr889U2aUXfXufHfbFQFLM8M1d4DqJKE-r5TWSFfT0GF4j8eH1juUqI7SBGcob_2YsUspqXnB8DDU_iIzTsFfsrX1uh1Gu6Ho6jgh/s640/20110907-_DSC5076.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Congratulations !</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Not to swim, but for an ice-cream. It was enough. 4963km from Dublin and we were finally looking at the Black Sea.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">And the water IS almost black in colour. Unlike the Danube which was not blue.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Next stop, Istanbul. By bus.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">*</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">words and photos by both of us</div></div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-28257837283730641362011-08-30T20:49:00.000+02:002012-06-10T11:12:53.460+02:00Romania - it's been emotional<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Flailed by hot dry winds,</div>
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covered in dirt, dust and sweat,</div>
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we struggle on, tired.</div>
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How many highs and lows can two people have in the space of six days ? Bucketloads.</div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Since leaving our cool, air-conditioned haven in Beska (Serbia) last Thursday we have experienced extreme heat, battled horrendous headwinds, cycled through stunning river gorges, camped behind shrubs on the edge of a field and wallowed in luxury in a hotel.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEG8VIyPQ7T060bAETAnXwgjkBJXFV8VwMLxdl9nUPVS-uERHLBDY6D-JNKYrM4k6CL1B8HLLp3eZzw12067KYxD5vID3SmNgc2w55i91BvmOUKPnpgHocbbxYoTEAUcgafoNttm8p59v9/s1600/20110825-_DSC4752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEG8VIyPQ7T060bAETAnXwgjkBJXFV8VwMLxdl9nUPVS-uERHLBDY6D-JNKYrM4k6CL1B8HLLp3eZzw12067KYxD5vID3SmNgc2w55i91BvmOUKPnpgHocbbxYoTEAUcgafoNttm8p59v9/s640/20110825-_DSC4752.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Our hotel in Beska, Serbia - for a ludicrous €22 per night.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-aRbmbGdpi0ZpCEE2F9xJ9ThsvNwJ_DhgWClYwwu0azwiXXHyca4SQ6HyNKKwauvat1FiCK66ekzFKaOQIASI80PqIwUa4yZXdymS8s6Ji-U_fUV8wa8FCNwQreJUXTuCXkHm7JjauRUJ/s1600/20110824-_DSC4750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-aRbmbGdpi0ZpCEE2F9xJ9ThsvNwJ_DhgWClYwwu0azwiXXHyca4SQ6HyNKKwauvat1FiCK66ekzFKaOQIASI80PqIwUa4yZXdymS8s6Ji-U_fUV8wa8FCNwQreJUXTuCXkHm7JjauRUJ/s640/20110824-_DSC4750.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hazy sunset, Beska.</i></span></td></tr>
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We left Beska as early as we could after breakfast, heading for Belgrade, the Serbian capital. Even so, it was already 33 degrees Celcius by 8.30. Luckily we only had 60km to ride so we arrived before midday and spent the obscenely hot afternoon hours relaxing in the shade. It got to 40 degrees that day, but the good news was that it was expected to start cooling slowly over the next few days to the more manageable mid then low 30's.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Despite knowing that it was only forecast to be 36 on Friday, we decided to make an early start to get through Belgrade before too much traffic made it a nightmare for cycling. Leaving at 6.20am unfortunately wasn't early enough. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
By the time we arrived in the city from the campground (on the outskirts) at 7.30 the streets were already teeming with cars and a nasty headwind was making itself felt. Signage, really quite good throughout the rest of Serbia, let us down in the city centre and we missed an important turn, spending an unfortunate hour meandering through the city streets until someone finally pointed us in the right direction. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We did however find a great little bakery right in the centre of town where we purchased some delicious pastries. These wonderful pastries kept us going all day. And a very long day it was. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Thirteen and a half hours after leaving that morning we pulled up outside a tiny restaurant with a couple of rooms to let, 105km from Belgrade. You do the maths, it's not pretty. Between Belgrade and Dubovac, for that was the name of this pinprick on the map, we battled ever worsening head winds, slowing us down to 9km/h at times (we usually cruise at about 20km/h). </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We had planned to camp but the campsite marked on our map did not exist, so we had to continue an extra 15km along a dirt track, with a dust storm at our backs, until we found somewhere to stay. The air was extremely hazy from the wind and the Danube, quite choppy.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0PLM6y-SzmvNr5no-7xpe7RmScsMq_n4b6st3VGIi9duZBwHWkpFWQzKIQngkeOxwoBs_cOI9dmZr4y0OJC9S4ZnJp3GaKlkDvOk18jaRuhBuVk1JAc_pOkNdbfm3lMfzzIl6RcpDmcH/s1600/20110826-_DSC4770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0PLM6y-SzmvNr5no-7xpe7RmScsMq_n4b6st3VGIi9duZBwHWkpFWQzKIQngkeOxwoBs_cOI9dmZr4y0OJC9S4ZnJp3GaKlkDvOk18jaRuhBuVk1JAc_pOkNdbfm3lMfzzIl6RcpDmcH/s640/20110826-_DSC4770.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Dust storm across the Danube.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqHrq0E3EnIh38_6QCp43bXJlf0UItLMLpINfDhgi3oJZcrrqvFXLS1h5pkBg3cLK5wIhU88u3KflyKteNHRu6W2SttqH4nv33eGj7QFjEDG4qAQy0K62bHEea4O9CeQ2oQjbdTqDffbL/s1600/20110826-_DSC4781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqHrq0E3EnIh38_6QCp43bXJlf0UItLMLpINfDhgi3oJZcrrqvFXLS1h5pkBg3cLK5wIhU88u3KflyKteNHRu6W2SttqH4nv33eGj7QFjEDG4qAQy0K62bHEea4O9CeQ2oQjbdTqDffbL/s640/20110826-_DSC4781.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Dust storm, dead trees in the water and our cycle path.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We had a bit of a sleep in the next day and didn't leave until almost 9, with a good breakfast under our belts - hard sheeps cheese, boiled eggs, bread and jam with an excellent almost turkish-style coffee. Heading north and east toward the Romanian border unfortunately the head wind had not died down overnight, in fact seemed to have strengthened. Some gusts had us battling to stay on the road as it came in from the side. From the front it slowed us down to 7km/h at times. And then there was the huge hill not marked on our map – with a 12% gradient !</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHxd5RUF3dw-vcsA6AZXr6aVKAmIN08jCot_bI3nrGhwRf9MbZyFnhJ-w_ns3rD0qxBBZbzpy4cJp-i2Qxqpl0pQZ-8cn45IYSnTkbi1e1bAS54Zg2RukhWKR8Xe-ucN0NOVddvLsObL5/s1600/20110827-_DSC4784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHxd5RUF3dw-vcsA6AZXr6aVKAmIN08jCot_bI3nrGhwRf9MbZyFnhJ-w_ns3rD0qxBBZbzpy4cJp-i2Qxqpl0pQZ-8cn45IYSnTkbi1e1bAS54Zg2RukhWKR8Xe-ucN0NOVddvLsObL5/s640/20110827-_DSC4784.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Bela Crkva, Serbia</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRpTwxFNhaXjzRmpRI1TZCuurXgGjqSveRsd9NqVhgqFSxCnjYPbe-G45LaSHu_Zk34kntkCzKAfCd8Y54oT-ZNKNscKTDEZDj37QEY2L3qJCvncFFjc1w_v2CTW8JrhfQGoho9XGMWQJK/s640/20110827-_DSC4798.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hills of Muntil Locva, Romania</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRpTwxFNhaXjzRmpRI1TZCuurXgGjqSveRsd9NqVhgqFSxCnjYPbe-G45LaSHu_Zk34kntkCzKAfCd8Y54oT-ZNKNscKTDEZDj37QEY2L3qJCvncFFjc1w_v2CTW8JrhfQGoho9XGMWQJK/s1600/20110827-_DSC4798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i></i></span></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
To make matters worse we had to traverse east along one valley for 20km against the wind before turning around and coming 20km down the next valley in a westerly direction (luckily with the wind at our backs this time) just to reach a border crossing that we could use (the closer one was only open for locals). We relaxed once in Romania though, knowing that it is not just not illegal to wild camp (like in Croatia and Serbia) but that it is entirely legal to camp on public land.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Our next problem was money, the nearest ATM was in a town about 50km away, against the wind (you cannot buy Romanian currency outside of Romania) but we had forseen this and stocked up on food before leaving Serbia, so we could at least wild camp and eat. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
And water – no taps or pumps visible on the streets of the villages (In Hungary, the pumps in the street were all bright blue, making them easy to find). Neil ended up asking a woman in a little one-roomed village shop for water and she gladly filled our bottles. And the next day as well, an old woman sitting outside her house in the village of Svinita helped us out with water.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
In fact, we have found the Romanians to be even friendlier than the Serbians with their waving and their hellos. Though sometimes the horn honking can be a bit startling. We have not, as seems the norm with tourists to this country, included a photograph of horse and cart on Romanian roads. While we have seen (and even overtaken) horses and carts on the roads here (as we have in Hungary, Serbia, Croatia and Ireland), Audis are more prevalent.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5tXjsAlYuW3r9HhRaFczck6fEf6E6xXGb-1woolIxMIlM76a-TM6eJGlE7qIK1eQv9ag0V3T2E_0RJy9Q7eyyxmKPQ-MBaw36jQ-EtZsGqOeabiPrNkOjD4Vx-iFanF5uK3d5UW1M8xxS/s1600/20110827-_DSC4802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5tXjsAlYuW3r9HhRaFczck6fEf6E6xXGb-1woolIxMIlM76a-TM6eJGlE7qIK1eQv9ag0V3T2E_0RJy9Q7eyyxmKPQ-MBaw36jQ-EtZsGqOeabiPrNkOjD4Vx-iFanF5uK3d5UW1M8xxS/s640/20110827-_DSC4802.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Choppy Danube.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4kG8Hfi7xFzpmB-WlmjznglL0-Q5kLxXqkktw13gr5X_dxXQVIAarI4u7hmfVbxJTj4IAMJxlwhncTktZCEReNSirJwRDRPKgnT1aG1QETUa4g-_2S0f50PVnxwi0JuDMIhiS-nLopdmy/s1600/20110827-_DSC4811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4kG8Hfi7xFzpmB-WlmjznglL0-Q5kLxXqkktw13gr5X_dxXQVIAarI4u7hmfVbxJTj4IAMJxlwhncTktZCEReNSirJwRDRPKgnT1aG1QETUa4g-_2S0f50PVnxwi0JuDMIhiS-nLopdmy/s640/20110827-_DSC4811.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hand-made haystacks, rather than machine made bales.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
As we came back to the Danube from our 40km border crossing diversion we found the wind even worse than before. We struggled on as far as we could then made camp by the side of a field. We didn't sleep well that night because the wind did not abate one iota and the tent fly kept flapping noisily throughout the night. There was another stunning sunset with all the dust in the air and so many stars visible away from all the light pollution of towns.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCm2xF_-_8z82vxQvIbOjAx6YvVe36krccv5rPc7H44ZrYAF-NWjxd-YseWpsFxTLqVyGARdQd3Wm5ofjBARdJ8owK8wwGE_pTh48MWq1QzCyZcVa-fGI2ExiFgWF2nsNlX5qoPqYukPRS/s1600/20110827-_DSC4814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCm2xF_-_8z82vxQvIbOjAx6YvVe36krccv5rPc7H44ZrYAF-NWjxd-YseWpsFxTLqVyGARdQd3Wm5ofjBARdJ8owK8wwGE_pTh48MWq1QzCyZcVa-fGI2ExiFgWF2nsNlX5qoPqYukPRS/s640/20110827-_DSC4814.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Another stunning sunset</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Up with the sunrise on Sunday morning and off early into the breach once more – this headwind thing was starting to wear us down. The prevailing winds along the Danube are generally downstream and this upstream gale had the river a mess of white capped waves and a churned dirty brown colour. Sunday morning was the worst yet.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We arrived in Moldova Noua to find an ATM and at least get some local currency. Luckily one of the two machines was working. From Moldova Noua the river swells into a bulge and the wind coming over the water was tremendously strong – we were held to 6km/h for the parts of the road that faced into the wind – which was a lot of it, seeing as we were following the river downstream. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjo48AzYe6hP83zl41rH511braiVn_yilxM1yCEdFnhNCtGmpF2oFwASVObP-6ZSNZ1cj3yMin5THj3HeKTsc06pHPo1_sp11554Ylsq3QcAxaTiipeBhr-5S6UfiNvxdI1oPS-DEyLR1/s1600/20110828-_DSC4823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjo48AzYe6hP83zl41rH511braiVn_yilxM1yCEdFnhNCtGmpF2oFwASVObP-6ZSNZ1cj3yMin5THj3HeKTsc06pHPo1_sp11554Ylsq3QcAxaTiipeBhr-5S6UfiNvxdI1oPS-DEyLR1/s640/20110828-_DSC4823.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Leaning into the wind, trying to stay on the road</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
However, we were now in the Portile de Fier (Gates of Iron) National Park and the road closely follows the river through some very narrow gorges. The steep hills on either side began to offer some protection from the winds. They were also stunning to look at. Almost like cycling through fjords but without the pine trees. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAM1vN8FgxbFnwEBavAc3TVdeUWYluA_DNo4HqLuwoCzxQ-R2bHqi2M_RRWCk5aJDsMX6Kcj16nzpcGY5Q4YRG9qW2SLPFcbMWsZZ2aJPlG4hUP36uFneHYVqT-yenhmmhfdF_cYtRzVMs/s1600/20110828-_DSC4855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAM1vN8FgxbFnwEBavAc3TVdeUWYluA_DNo4HqLuwoCzxQ-R2bHqi2M_RRWCk5aJDsMX6Kcj16nzpcGY5Q4YRG9qW2SLPFcbMWsZZ2aJPlG4hUP36uFneHYVqT-yenhmmhfdF_cYtRzVMs/s640/20110828-_DSC4855.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Self photo in the Iron Gates</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU_OXPuVRp7RRtniklIUX1Fx1M7arFoZvakkYcuz1Cx41FbUwNpIsG9qdDqG9zKeoLQpeMZCcaC_BSrf3InV55fw4pjzVx5GEkgYyWNbrODrrMrwyHAh6fhMibwXoh67pwd7NPdAHLt2WK/s1600/20110828-_DSC4862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU_OXPuVRp7RRtniklIUX1Fx1M7arFoZvakkYcuz1Cx41FbUwNpIsG9qdDqG9zKeoLQpeMZCcaC_BSrf3InV55fw4pjzVx5GEkgYyWNbrODrrMrwyHAh6fhMibwXoh67pwd7NPdAHLt2WK/s640/20110828-_DSC4862.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Iron Gates National Park</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
On the Serbian side, the road continues through 18 tunnels where the rocky hillside is too steep but on the Romanian side, the road winds right by the river nearly the entire way from Bazias near the border to Drobuta-Turnu Severin, a distance of about 130km. There are many problems with landslides so some stretches of road are currently under repair – both the road surface and the chunky bulwarks against the cliff faces to keep stones and dirt from the road.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmNVyUfjhxHjdXhjJutRoD3qkz_uRrH3068bQg-gB0KIrIA6Dh-4rTpef2npcrq2NbVShaJPCg3Dpj7ALfQI46bq5iED3elIIQW99xQ0FaIyMZKbJzV9L3EzH6X4Wklw8L9cZ_1wUKvyNL/s1600/20110828-_DSC4877.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmNVyUfjhxHjdXhjJutRoD3qkz_uRrH3068bQg-gB0KIrIA6Dh-4rTpef2npcrq2NbVShaJPCg3Dpj7ALfQI46bq5iED3elIIQW99xQ0FaIyMZKbJzV9L3EzH6X4Wklw8L9cZ_1wUKvyNL/s640/20110828-_DSC4877.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Dogs everywhere, waiting, hoping.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Finally on Sunday afternoon the wind started to ease and we decided to treat our exhausted bodies to a rest in a B&B. Except that none that were marked on our map seemed to exist. So we plodded on and on and just when we'd almost had enough, we came across a Pensiune (B&B). The Cabana Delfinul was so restful we decided to stay another night and have a proper rest. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Our room looked over the Danube and our balcony had even better views up and down the river. The strong winds calmed to a gentle breeze and we had a lovely day on Monday relaxing, eating, reading and practicing our Romanian (a lot easier than Hungarian – sort of a strange mix of Italian and Russian).</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhETd7J_ky8z1e2NM6BHXlw4709Ba6cEho_huhJ3mAYjTWOBZ6dsQn4_HXw7yiD2oew1gI0EHDgrar4gs4dWY4NLeu-L2eebFMyx9K_mhgJ3_qbBCdSMLLJ7TNtjl6aX_iGG-UPcNrz_rbk/s1600/20110828-_DSC4881.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhETd7J_ky8z1e2NM6BHXlw4709Ba6cEho_huhJ3mAYjTWOBZ6dsQn4_HXw7yiD2oew1gI0EHDgrar4gs4dWY4NLeu-L2eebFMyx9K_mhgJ3_qbBCdSMLLJ7TNtjl6aX_iGG-UPcNrz_rbk/s640/20110828-_DSC4881.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Fisherman, seen from our balcony</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyJxZ1hQPJ3KVFVwzkWhjn7yEFEk08F4qXe4_L-acbKT1rvQ0uXif6sx8BQiCsBK3PM4zQCYyxlGoGPsJtN713JG9ROLKI_5BGefAKo-9wATgecGT3FAF1FquLq1rDOdPTpeu-rHgA6iZZ/s1600/20110829-_DSC4885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyJxZ1hQPJ3KVFVwzkWhjn7yEFEk08F4qXe4_L-acbKT1rvQ0uXif6sx8BQiCsBK3PM4zQCYyxlGoGPsJtN713JG9ROLKI_5BGefAKo-9wATgecGT3FAF1FquLq1rDOdPTpeu-rHgA6iZZ/s640/20110829-_DSC4885.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>From our balcony, a view of where the river narrows into 'the boilers'</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnqfhfablRFbdaURAXLl3FHyZvae9ukwnpWRE9Es4j9nbmNJDQxCtoQH8E_PlDyZpPGbr8ng17zv11u4H5qygJPHtEB-wufDqHem5aNHY72ePAgnwO1i5yhZ_U2lXdhUgVns2X4gOMpv7_/s1600/20110830-_DSC4903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnqfhfablRFbdaURAXLl3FHyZvae9ukwnpWRE9Es4j9nbmNJDQxCtoQH8E_PlDyZpPGbr8ng17zv11u4H5qygJPHtEB-wufDqHem5aNHY72ePAgnwO1i5yhZ_U2lXdhUgVns2X4gOMpv7_/s640/20110830-_DSC4903.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Leaving this morning, farewelled by one of three resident dogs.</i></span></td></tr>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
This morning we left after our breakfast omlettes and coffee (a cooked breakfast is one of the great advantages of not camping, unfortunately we can't afford to do it all the time) and headed along the river to a couple of steep hills which took the road away from the narrow river straits which create 'the boilers'. This part of the river also forms the barrier between the Carpathian Mountains in the north from the foothills of the Balkans in the south. Hills conquered, we ate our picnic lunch in Orsova along the riverbank of the port town before continuing.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih4dQzqpfGLCsKM0i6dy3Kl1ZUY3cqJqjwqC722lRNeV06IpXTI2DSR7Ij7osnQETPAZDduL5ztQaNUeyy2nK13-C2wWR0LDmuEGX-yU-HOmX4WVVa68tMbVzTnQ2W03XFmVu6DTLNsyIt/s1600/20110830-_DSC4915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih4dQzqpfGLCsKM0i6dy3Kl1ZUY3cqJqjwqC722lRNeV06IpXTI2DSR7Ij7osnQETPAZDduL5ztQaNUeyy2nK13-C2wWR0LDmuEGX-yU-HOmX4WVVa68tMbVzTnQ2W03XFmVu6DTLNsyIt/s640/20110830-_DSC4915.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The other side of 'the boilers' - if you look closely you can see a large cruise boat.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6J9i7e6EbYK5-Q417yO0v2FPlF7acYEVeRzDD2awfavtfP9cgs2DogQwhIE7Q0Cvfc8PocZDzqAJGoX8VZsXvpHqPoY26DiTqnZznAlobegTKTwcgaiU9d6ooaMny4aXjPBgmyYI8Ar6c/s1600/20110830-_DSC4929.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6J9i7e6EbYK5-Q417yO0v2FPlF7acYEVeRzDD2awfavtfP9cgs2DogQwhIE7Q0Cvfc8PocZDzqAJGoX8VZsXvpHqPoY26DiTqnZznAlobegTKTwcgaiU9d6ooaMny4aXjPBgmyYI8Ar6c/s640/20110830-_DSC4929.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Decebalos, last Dacian king (1st century AD)</i></span></td></tr>
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The next stretch of road was marked on our map as being busy with traffic, so we were prepared for the trucks and cars. What we weren't prepared for was a slight headwind and cycling next to a 50m drop with only a low stone bannister between us and oblivion. Every truck that goes past blows you just a little closer to that scary edge...</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Anyway, we made it to Drobeta-Turnu Severin and when Neil suggested that perhaps we stop early (it was only 3pm) and see how much a hotel he'd seen signs for, with internet, would cost us, I agreed. He must have been able to see my still shaking hands. The Tudor Hotel cost us a very reasonable €45 for bed and breakfast and our room is larger than some tent pitches we've stayed on lately.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_14LWf9ywCP71w1lur78a20-G2-ZwEuCi-l5OoCL4MHEm7z2uAmtmi2exJdazMtvuLkCuFMC9P3GaurVFH_IhcTkBuEeztJREVFq-UtT5FE9pUNuu8nLFPW3aV7inaZjpUI1rmKayCs7W/s1600/20110830-_DSC4936.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_14LWf9ywCP71w1lur78a20-G2-ZwEuCi-l5OoCL4MHEm7z2uAmtmi2exJdazMtvuLkCuFMC9P3GaurVFH_IhcTkBuEeztJREVFq-UtT5FE9pUNuu8nLFPW3aV7inaZjpUI1rmKayCs7W/s640/20110830-_DSC4936.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Dirty cyclist a bit lost in the plushness</i></span></td></tr>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
So here we are, in Drobeta-Turnu Severin, only 935km upstream from the Black Sea. From here we are heading hell for leather across the flat lands of Romania until we reach the Black Sea. Don't expect to hear from us for a couple of weeks...</div>
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*</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
words - Gabby; most photos - Neil</div>
</div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-8164036048478595432011-08-24T16:11:00.000+02:002011-08-24T16:11:38.007+02:00Phew !<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Car fumes up my nose,<br />
I feel sweat run down my spine -<br />
summer cycling fun.<br />
<br />
500km in six days, battling hills, strong headwinds, bad roads and intense heat ! We seem to have gained a new level of fitness lately - it certainly beats the pants off the 5 weeks we took to cycle the 1040km from Dublin to Noisy-sur-École back in March and April.<br />
<br />
Today we are relaxing in Beska, Serbia (about 70km northwest of Belgrade), our first day off since leaving Budapest last Thursday. It has been a week of cloudless though hazy skies, temperatures closer to 40 degrees Celcius than 30 and it looks set to continue well into next week.<br />
<br />
Croatia was full of interesting contrasts. Elegantly decorated old buildings next to very incomplete newer ones; wineries and green rows of vines interspersed with dry fields of ripe corn and drooping sunflowers; the sickly sweet odour of decomposing bags of rubbish, dumped overlooking sublime national park forests; cheap food and expensive accommodation.<br />
<br />
As we came through Vukovar, a port town on the bank of the Danube, on Monday, we could see the holed and blackened ruins of a not so old water tower, left to commemorate the savage fighting around Vukovar in the early 1990's. The seige of Vukovar, also known as the Vukovar massacre, was the most damaging seige since that of Stalingrad in WWII. Many thousands of people were killed or otherwise 'unnaccounted for'. There is a large memorial outside the town.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92aaRDtlHW4PK2yZyoyuA1GVyOe2Yq1Ep0LNQOZ9jrwvKIdZFaVIPuny8QF5gnhXoq_CEinGMrVpvMvRZpfP6HyHRDPwYleR1I-gHN3Pf6b4Pf3gZJsfGzao12ktlVr0j55C8T9UrOhtt/s1600/20110822-DSC_4670.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92aaRDtlHW4PK2yZyoyuA1GVyOe2Yq1Ep0LNQOZ9jrwvKIdZFaVIPuny8QF5gnhXoq_CEinGMrVpvMvRZpfP6HyHRDPwYleR1I-gHN3Pf6b4Pf3gZJsfGzao12ktlVr0j55C8T9UrOhtt/s640/20110822-DSC_4670.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Vukovar tower hanging over new buildings.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEWE_v9IdURD3VB-yo3RZBcOaYZbv6j1sVImNv-Ypowu3jNqmyXWSXQqF4DvtQiuWmfKG1EZpJSUunyXGi0FN9Ph9-yJYnU0KlLTHVNzT6M21ftr4ggDl3v_ipGsURG2EPBgjMWmLZuKrH/s1600/20110823-_DSC4688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEWE_v9IdURD3VB-yo3RZBcOaYZbv6j1sVImNv-Ypowu3jNqmyXWSXQqF4DvtQiuWmfKG1EZpJSUunyXGi0FN9Ph9-yJYnU0KlLTHVNzT6M21ftr4ggDl3v_ipGsURG2EPBgjMWmLZuKrH/s640/20110823-_DSC4688.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Ilok, old fortifications overlooking the Danube.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOkgN1yuz2_y-WeG7hErULDhPSHegCfAj8j72CJwpCAjpfmza83HntxVnJ5Ft0Jipc6UX9x28e0hU6l5KwjmoIPq-qAoMy6xpeu-UJKqBjgoYPdU4KTEwnnwZenQA575yBNWQK7HS-lluh/s1600/20110823-DSC_4681.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOkgN1yuz2_y-WeG7hErULDhPSHegCfAj8j72CJwpCAjpfmza83HntxVnJ5Ft0Jipc6UX9x28e0hU6l5KwjmoIPq-qAoMy6xpeu-UJKqBjgoYPdU4KTEwnnwZenQA575yBNWQK7HS-lluh/s640/20110823-DSC_4681.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hotel Dunav, Ilok - right on the bank of the Danube (Dunav in Croatian).</i></span></td></tr>
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Past Vukovar we were surprised, unpleasantly in the hot afternoon, by a number of steep hills that were not marked on our maps. We are using the Huber Verlag official Euro Velo route maps and generally they are pretty good but we find that the quality of mapping varies from country to country.<br />
<br />
The French ones were very good. The Hungarian maps had no distance markings at all. And yesterday afternoon, several kilometres after Novi Sad (in Serbia), we followed a road that was marked on the map as unpaved but should have been marked as extremely rough - on some of the hills the dirt and stones were so loose the bike tyres could get no purchase and we had to push.<br />
<br />
Although re-entering Serbia yesterday brought a few pleasant surprises too. Nowhere since France have so many people waved, yelled 'hello', beeped their horns (in a friendly manner, not a 'get off the road' sort of honking) and smiled at us. Another pleasant surprise was the cost of an hotel. We are currently staying in the largest building in this town - a huge old plaster wedding cake affair from some bygone prosperous era - and paying €23 per night for the two of us, with cooked breakfast thrown in as well.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgdguZZjsRC01fN6VGtnPe-3SoPvC9MH3MTVAWYFaRoRQXhMf9np7SiSV7So_0G478PHWG_GmNaa0q8v9p6cd3TbpJZ3CBThVv_RD-y-Q5yHvABzDUcHfS9-Wk0JDDEC8Yi9Ng00dkI4F/s1600/20110823-_DSC4732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgdguZZjsRC01fN6VGtnPe-3SoPvC9MH3MTVAWYFaRoRQXhMf9np7SiSV7So_0G478PHWG_GmNaa0q8v9p6cd3TbpJZ3CBThVv_RD-y-Q5yHvABzDUcHfS9-Wk0JDDEC8Yi9Ng00dkI4F/s640/20110823-_DSC4732.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>My turn to cook - making a tuna and kidney bean salad in the hotel room.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDDprmmALbWiHnOyvh9T3f56MAjAlBVYfNjGj_KhLcDu6v9eqdyyPSkCWMUE590iNPC_hIvtNoEgPj1m3FNi_YY8BZYh8V8AyeuzC_3WSCJxD4Ty0q0QX9yCbIYwsrLxeQMoUHLanWGDUs/s1600/20110823-_DSC4740.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDDprmmALbWiHnOyvh9T3f56MAjAlBVYfNjGj_KhLcDu6v9eqdyyPSkCWMUE590iNPC_hIvtNoEgPj1m3FNi_YY8BZYh8V8AyeuzC_3WSCJxD4Ty0q0QX9yCbIYwsrLxeQMoUHLanWGDUs/s640/20110823-_DSC4740.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Sun sets behind the last hill of the day.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbwWyFcmI31mszFuJgAjOOD3INjCQaxyh_b3p3D0PhSBZIlyeknsPOCLCcZF3_mnx3F_kSTxJOZPel0NDsfcBkvYXTqY5LB4Yo_edf0dgqgMKijOmQBDLLnafYnfu-eePx5AnpVFVuvU7y/s1600/20110824-_DSC4746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbwWyFcmI31mszFuJgAjOOD3INjCQaxyh_b3p3D0PhSBZIlyeknsPOCLCcZF3_mnx3F_kSTxJOZPel0NDsfcBkvYXTqY5LB4Yo_edf0dgqgMKijOmQBDLLnafYnfu-eePx5AnpVFVuvU7y/s640/20110824-_DSC4746.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hot hazy sky over Beska.</i></span></td></tr>
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<br />
And hearing a Midnight Oil song blasting from an outdoor café in Novi Sad was a bit bizarre but certainly brought a smile to our faces.<br />
<br />
And the road signs - every junction of the cycle route brings more amusing quotes...<br />
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*<br />
words by Gabby, most photos by Neil</div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-82070932160820322872011-08-24T16:10:00.000+02:002011-08-24T16:10:48.119+02:00Sign of the times<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">At crossroads they wait,<br />
each pocketful of wisdom<br />
guiding us deftly.<br />
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*<br />
words and images by Neil</div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-14516601484689071412011-08-21T21:05:00.000+02:002011-08-21T21:05:49.896+02:00Everything's peachyCloudless, pale blue sky,<br />
hot winds blow across the plains.<br />
We ride into them.<br />
<br />
We enjoyed a lovely couple of days in Budapest, relaxing, wandering around the old and not so old parts of Buda and Pest, sampling the cuisine, looking about. Unfortunately because the weather was so warm we didn't try lagos, a Hungarian deep fried dough that we had been hanging out for. We did try some Hungarian red wine though and it was very drinkable.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTZiVWEdYwm1GSAAywNymlIUeuDwe1ADsVYLqFLVBiWp4h9-nfe8om_v9okakeA0QoKmmo88ZpulhHj0ux62dxJMoZVYBf5_CH2ALOMuJIYQvwsXV_cjcodRXTU9OKyd75fml3o2Iq9q-y/s1600/20110816-_DSC4540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="442" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTZiVWEdYwm1GSAAywNymlIUeuDwe1ADsVYLqFLVBiWp4h9-nfe8om_v9okakeA0QoKmmo88ZpulhHj0ux62dxJMoZVYBf5_CH2ALOMuJIYQvwsXV_cjcodRXTU9OKyd75fml3o2Iq9q-y/s640/20110816-_DSC4540.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Fisherman's Bastion, near Buda castle.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJoFk0RmL3poUpdfNrdPL5pHnuuaWUVTmDihySt_8kG86oYi7XZlUyzAPajFCroKTDzJEgUVMfxqHxHeL3YdW3mcmG4Eh_Kfd0ojp24JtMjUgCf1CSSSTVkFYe61DzkefUDtzVW3PQJaa/s1600/20110816-_DSC4560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJoFk0RmL3poUpdfNrdPL5pHnuuaWUVTmDihySt_8kG86oYi7XZlUyzAPajFCroKTDzJEgUVMfxqHxHeL3YdW3mcmG4Eh_Kfd0ojp24JtMjUgCf1CSSSTVkFYe61DzkefUDtzVW3PQJaa/s640/20110816-_DSC4560.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Fisherman's Bastion from the inside.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikqA710dWP5jtsZZ_PF-YzWTh2YsiMpwYrIAvIbLVvinBcRgZ7cVwyejcKGPnugLvnWSPgPnLa2k9UzxcNcvotwjIash85tOIaRiM3YNqGYqiQR1U7JI8ug05yAtaxrFecHqSZ7jaSCp8_/s1600/20110816-_DSC4569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikqA710dWP5jtsZZ_PF-YzWTh2YsiMpwYrIAvIbLVvinBcRgZ7cVwyejcKGPnugLvnWSPgPnLa2k9UzxcNcvotwjIash85tOIaRiM3YNqGYqiQR1U7JI8ug05yAtaxrFecHqSZ7jaSCp8_/s640/20110816-_DSC4569.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Really cool froglike building on the Buda side.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzj6fcu7Lqn9_0SogCHplS05P1SXcxLkfXVS9CniNCDRcO3Tjgdzumb-BNQd2kwFnyW-yXTHuVhDUl6Jgmxikx75QKigq4s4uuRzm0pEvs4o2JHK8IV9ILnh15qW9dHcHRkBXeF_-xe_C6/s1600/20110816-_DSC4572.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzj6fcu7Lqn9_0SogCHplS05P1SXcxLkfXVS9CniNCDRcO3Tjgdzumb-BNQd2kwFnyW-yXTHuVhDUl6Jgmxikx75QKigq4s4uuRzm0pEvs4o2JHK8IV9ILnh15qW9dHcHRkBXeF_-xe_C6/s640/20110816-_DSC4572.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Neil on the Szabadság hid, Pest side behind him.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoknOY_SFWY-JSbQmhkNuj5MPGd2My4oZ1H0DMyC_oDpfVpFmw7D1iH7uKcnBgosRkqW95ogI5e3Cc4p0d4-GFjUwuxgbUisHqms0304rtiwNqYmPLy909MXgB4M8Rd201e3P0YEu1E-ea/s1600/20110816-_DSC4573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoknOY_SFWY-JSbQmhkNuj5MPGd2My4oZ1H0DMyC_oDpfVpFmw7D1iH7uKcnBgosRkqW95ogI5e3Cc4p0d4-GFjUwuxgbUisHqms0304rtiwNqYmPLy909MXgB4M8Rd201e3P0YEu1E-ea/s640/20110816-_DSC4573.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Szabadság hid.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRoLL0tbGmUhjgqiRdsNnYXmMUcHaD9p54GZBBYsWtmfpGm8Kk6aQmiWEb-u-MrB6s9W_AMdKI5tdblvy10vYucGGCOq0WSRuNdYxJpqa-YLfIVJatmKzwjGWNpwRrdHAE1bkyjhiWdcYG/s1600/20110816-_DSC4578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRoLL0tbGmUhjgqiRdsNnYXmMUcHaD9p54GZBBYsWtmfpGm8Kk6aQmiWEb-u-MrB6s9W_AMdKI5tdblvy10vYucGGCOq0WSRuNdYxJpqa-YLfIVJatmKzwjGWNpwRrdHAE1bkyjhiWdcYG/s640/20110816-_DSC4578.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Fovam ter food markets - all the paprika varieties you could ever need.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHijKq8EJtAKNWTF1bLk0IbcOw53vq4wXbPUC2XCgyT0A5cxfGw-gaAEYvX1yxGclJCxDyTGKHnf4mor8E7uZSE7MGHGOgP-Im5tpqplB5L310JPjBEdm4e59Ga-A8H_BP8eJvlL8Ha_-T/s1600/20110816-_DSC4583.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHijKq8EJtAKNWTF1bLk0IbcOw53vq4wXbPUC2XCgyT0A5cxfGw-gaAEYvX1yxGclJCxDyTGKHnf4mor8E7uZSE7MGHGOgP-Im5tpqplB5L310JPjBEdm4e59Ga-A8H_BP8eJvlL8Ha_-T/s640/20110816-_DSC4583.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Pest, another of many fabulous buildings.</i></span></td></tr>
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Thursday morning as we cycled along the Danube through the city, the sun shone off verdigris roof tops and spires, promising another warm day. Summer certainly came to us in Hungary, we've had nothing but hot sunny days for more than a week now ( the only rain or storms, at night). And as we head further east, through Croatia and Serbia, it is only going to get hotter. We've seen the forecast.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT0MICkqnKmraJrlTPQkbC10-abOdWhEtE4hIJSYuWH5VDDQILC713-4iBLzYuqydYqDXeOIaZnN-SAxLBoKlGxOlfHbEPip3zyurjyaaBc7n0ax6S8hH5i83k94sJq_a2icMS790d7P4I/s1600/20110818-_DSC4588.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT0MICkqnKmraJrlTPQkbC10-abOdWhEtE4hIJSYuWH5VDDQILC713-4iBLzYuqydYqDXeOIaZnN-SAxLBoKlGxOlfHbEPip3zyurjyaaBc7n0ax6S8hH5i83k94sJq_a2icMS790d7P4I/s640/20110818-_DSC4588.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Riverside cycle path through Budapest.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBvQJkw9zO-v7ox400xh_Ir0Q63sGJcQYXa902Ztbpkot97Up3kqJ1TIez0-sefVyEt7qqiWtv_G2ypas9VNk5x_pcg8jy8etSvAbfHcOSQ-CE9L1_RZGGOEI6rKCK_QtBxfqaM5TAB7y/s1600/20110818-_DSC4606.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBvQJkw9zO-v7ox400xh_Ir0Q63sGJcQYXa902Ztbpkot97Up3kqJ1TIez0-sefVyEt7qqiWtv_G2ypas9VNk5x_pcg8jy8etSvAbfHcOSQ-CE9L1_RZGGOEI6rKCK_QtBxfqaM5TAB7y/s640/20110818-_DSC4606.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>We're rich ! It was bamboozling working out the Forint to Euro rates.</i></span></td></tr>
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The ride south from Budapest was a bit of a marathon, not just because we covered 95km but because the majority of it was on really badly potholed paths, into a headwind. We learnt a new Hungarian word that day - uthibak. That was the road sign that came just before each stretch of ridiculously potholed road, accompanied by a big exclamation mark.<br />
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Not finding any campgrounds anywhere near where we wanted to camp, we wild camped between the dike that the cycle path followed and a stretch of poplar trees. It was lovely and peaceful to be camping in the countryside again.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-R8pX_IdmZEtpM_jMBfz_a5Wm7Inz5J0WinG_DOQmmzjzwl_W9TI9mxx3CuvC8X-UP4Vf_hrUQQsET0QN2l97S9FFLFAxfoEIwnZDhJ686c9d6u-0D_BJXROA4h5ctijrNkvOKizBFCLa/s1600/20110819-DSC_4631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-R8pX_IdmZEtpM_jMBfz_a5Wm7Inz5J0WinG_DOQmmzjzwl_W9TI9mxx3CuvC8X-UP4Vf_hrUQQsET0QN2l97S9FFLFAxfoEIwnZDhJ686c9d6u-0D_BJXROA4h5ctijrNkvOKizBFCLa/s640/20110819-DSC_4631.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Early morning, sun not quite over the horizon, a heavy dew still on the grass.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibGRe7wm9Tvn05fjL1bwa_4RqYDARSwDEeXepqwS4rfeTg_MAltle3JyK3596zKPt3VI9CbAYEu3-ucM01GDs7T6OysUdcWHkOTLplLcAgHepR0dyoggtsKvnmbPbF_fGMu7-DnCmcyTt2/s1600/20110819-DSC_4639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibGRe7wm9Tvn05fjL1bwa_4RqYDARSwDEeXepqwS4rfeTg_MAltle3JyK3596zKPt3VI9CbAYEu3-ucM01GDs7T6OysUdcWHkOTLplLcAgHepR0dyoggtsKvnmbPbF_fGMu7-DnCmcyTt2/s640/20110819-DSC_4639.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Looking down from the dike top at our camp - note the lovely bike path.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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But Friday was to be even worse - hotter and windier. We gave up after throwing ourselves into the wind for almost 60km and gave ourselves the afternoon off. At Szeliditó there was a tiny ramshackle hotel/campground at an old lake resort where we camped in the shade of more poplars for the princely sum of €5 (1500 Hungarian Forint) - cheaper even than the cheapest camping in France (€7).<br />
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Preparations were underway in the village for celebrating the Hungarian National Day on August 20. We didn't stay for the celebrations but on our way out the next morning saw every man, his dog, bicycle, horse and cart on the way into town for the big day.<br />
<br />
Instead we decided to try a different approach to the bumpy cycle path and minor road problem - ride down the highway, almost empty of traffic for the public holiday. We made good time on the lovely smooth surface, the wind having abated a little overnight. Even a 10km diversion down bumpy dirt tracks (due to lack of signposting and vague mapping) couldn't stop us from cycling 105km - the longest distance we have done in one day before and the first time we've made a century.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOO-IQp9PB89m81EkpcbvhMryLOa7aGBXk2LC-N_qEKJj0OEDPnSSeEdheQdIdxdEx9as-2Gzjc7oAseLKLYS_ESZKYjDq5UlOiFJqJkdCaJB2rzhUpK2thaPz5gIgYf2l3iCsHIvqozLB/s1600/20110820-DSC_4644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOO-IQp9PB89m81EkpcbvhMryLOa7aGBXk2LC-N_qEKJj0OEDPnSSeEdheQdIdxdEx9as-2Gzjc7oAseLKLYS_ESZKYjDq5UlOiFJqJkdCaJB2rzhUpK2thaPz5gIgYf2l3iCsHIvqozLB/s640/20110820-DSC_4644.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Neil playing with the camera as he rides along.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fzyKyOR7uS4g1yI9CEOO6ZXZY1cUJYbVenBDtX-uC-cQF4Z9Xj77x6hDjDsXCZAzPq7dUIOW2aVw0bg78ghuTHSZyFNgKR2fOWk7tmSJGfokpIKxWtLgtyyRU5hS8dG7FDZoAZMCdqoz/s1600/20110820-DSC_4652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fzyKyOR7uS4g1yI9CEOO6ZXZY1cUJYbVenBDtX-uC-cQF4Z9Xj77x6hDjDsXCZAzPq7dUIOW2aVw0bg78ghuTHSZyFNgKR2fOWk7tmSJGfokpIKxWtLgtyyRU5hS8dG7FDZoAZMCdqoz/s640/20110820-DSC_4652.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Another drive by shooting.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
That was yesterday, we camped across the river from Mohács, intending to catch the ferry over the Danube then cycle south to cross over into Croatia. However, we missed the ferry this morning, by about two minutes and begrudging the hour's wait, decided to cycle on the left bank down into Serbia first, then cross over the river on a bridge into Croatia.<br />
<br />
So we headed toward the border of Hungary and Serbia, stopping at the last village in Hungary, Hercegszántó, to fill our water bottles at a tap in a park. The tap didn't work and we were just about to continue on when a man who had been playing football with his wife and young son in the park invited us to follow him to get some water. He lived over the road so we went into the cool shaded courtyard of his house, filled with flowers and plants.<br />
<br />
He only had one or two words of English so he beckoned us in calling for his sister "angolul, angolul" (angolul means English). She came out, hands covered in dough from baking, to translate. So we had this multi-sided conversation with her asking questions about us and our trip and then relating them to assorted family members in Hungarian. When the man's mother heard we were cycling to Istanbul, she hit herself in the chest in shock. When she heard that we had already ridden from Dublin she almost fell off her chair, smiling hugely the whole time.<br />
<br />
Our water bottles filled, we made ready to leave and we were bade to wait a moment while the sister (the only name we got was the son's - Zoran) went off and came back with a plastic bag full of ripe white peaches. It must have weighed about 2kg. We thanked them profusely in English and Hungarian and gave Zoran a kangaroo pin.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, by the time we stopped for lunch the ripe peaches were a little worse for a couple of hours travel in a pannier - but delicious none the less.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAHnfaXGJII8zAwykZgGqippEMjX13gB4_i-m7u9LwqEG1VAc0Ic_Jaeq2WQW1BRqCwGQ601AD72UjhSw1sO1K6HVio04bTMu7iP1ORPSzujnK5x8dBK5v6ydV9wKWKjEBsCmBAM4DWZ1i/s1600/20110821-DSC_4655.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAHnfaXGJII8zAwykZgGqippEMjX13gB4_i-m7u9LwqEG1VAc0Ic_Jaeq2WQW1BRqCwGQ601AD72UjhSw1sO1K6HVio04bTMu7iP1ORPSzujnK5x8dBK5v6ydV9wKWKjEBsCmBAM4DWZ1i/s640/20110821-DSC_4655.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Serbian Euro Velo 6 signs - read the fine print...</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjceThUihI5SbKIHhvWWv-lLLtcebsLcE8vT5aL6BNUPddXQGhBFw4xWUoEAH9zThzQ2gtbUV26YM8fYiyrxDiaorsd9cBwkQ2jSI1VgV8CEvs1sZ2MkR0_VpCHkPaaDVOMIeUMnOCV50v_/s1600/20110821-DSC_4659.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjceThUihI5SbKIHhvWWv-lLLtcebsLcE8vT5aL6BNUPddXQGhBFw4xWUoEAH9zThzQ2gtbUV26YM8fYiyrxDiaorsd9cBwkQ2jSI1VgV8CEvs1sZ2MkR0_VpCHkPaaDVOMIeUMnOCV50v_/s640/20110821-DSC_4659.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hmm, life is hell. Lunch by the vines, shaded by a walnut tree, on a hill in the Croatian countryside. All that's needed is a cool breeze - yep, there it is.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkqVXJy17lDG_U0NghEmwBp4m-cX6iI7DBbPiEAK1wkWJ8rIc_i2_l0GTcu9YTRvwYuU0TXlszR9whurIGZAdaC-NRZSYXxcbf8myeT9YMdsB3fPikmbYR-5Bcd25moNE-B9Zsp6gFAW2Q/s1600/20110821-DSC_4661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkqVXJy17lDG_U0NghEmwBp4m-cX6iI7DBbPiEAK1wkWJ8rIc_i2_l0GTcu9YTRvwYuU0TXlszR9whurIGZAdaC-NRZSYXxcbf8myeT9YMdsB3fPikmbYR-5Bcd25moNE-B9Zsp6gFAW2Q/s640/20110821-DSC_4661.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The bag of peaches, looking considerably less full than when it was received.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
So tonight we are in the lap of luxury, in a B&B in Bilje in Croatia, just outside of Osijek. We have air-conditioning (and boy, did we need it when we arrived mid afternoon), wi-fi, and a private bathroom. Why ? Because there are very few campgrounds in this part of the country and wild camping is illegal (possibly because of the still extant minefields dotted about the place, but I think it's mainly paranoia about gypsies). <br />
<br />
More hot weather to come, so plenty more early starts ahead...<br />
<br />
*<br />
words by Gabby, most photos by Neil.Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-13274250664433287142011-08-17T18:26:00.002+02:002011-08-21T18:20:18.238+02:00Ahoj and Szía<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Amber sun glints off</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">dragonfly's translucent wings - </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">among wild flowers.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Ahoj and szía – meaning hi - are about the only Slovakian and Hungarian words we've been able to get a grip on so far. Though we've spent less than a day in Slovakia and nearly a week in Hungary, our grasp of Hungarian remains abysmal, our only confident additions being kérem (please) and kosonem (thank you). It's embarrassing but it seems that the harder we try, the more the words just slip through our grasp. To our defence, apparently Hungarian is one of the most difficult languages to learn for an English speaker.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">We left Petronell-Carnuntum bright and early Friday morning with clouds swirling above, undecided as to whether they should allow the sun through or not. We had a light shower of rain just before leaving Austria and by the time we stopped for lunch in Hungary the sun was blazing bright.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi86peBJoUXD3OcnBAEDGnYkl2RYPs6YXeC6OICSbEfNjbv8uHw3svUbjd9yxNVr2jf6HRVSe5Al_EiniUFUXjWSX4y5Fk9JEawimJDYJn9f0T1e7P_X9E5nPlHoPydYQK47H35xYJ9B2Hh/s1600/20110812-_DSC4450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi86peBJoUXD3OcnBAEDGnYkl2RYPs6YXeC6OICSbEfNjbv8uHw3svUbjd9yxNVr2jf6HRVSe5Al_EiniUFUXjWSX4y5Fk9JEawimJDYJn9f0T1e7P_X9E5nPlHoPydYQK47H35xYJ9B2Hh/s640/20110812-_DSC4450.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Quick break for a bite to eat just before leaving Austria for Slovakia.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The deserted Slovakian border looked like a soviet-era relic, a big unattractive angular concrete ediface, now peeling and grafittied over. We passed smoothly from Austrian bike paths to well maintained Slovakian ones, the main difference being that we could no longer decipher the road signs or billboards. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Having decided to bypass Bratislava, we stopped for a quick look - the impressive old castle dominates the skyline, clearly visible from the other side of the Danube - then cycled on, along bike paths nearly all the way to the Hungarian border. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVU_lM-nXA3ZNQepPM2keZgs5ezqaQahbrk1_2SCr8RCkzNhQza8BoPX36IaHeI6yh350Y-H69vU6fNydkT7vIzep90Fi2AegqKo7ys9-kJZw8NTb1zEn9Mss2SGr0nZJ_-IibTQo2xo-4/s1600/20110812-_DSC4456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVU_lM-nXA3ZNQepPM2keZgs5ezqaQahbrk1_2SCr8RCkzNhQza8BoPX36IaHeI6yh350Y-H69vU6fNydkT7vIzep90Fi2AegqKo7ys9-kJZw8NTb1zEn9Mss2SGr0nZJ_-IibTQo2xo-4/s640/20110812-_DSC4456.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Bratislava castle, from the opposite side of the Danube.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Just over the border, cycling on (rather bumpy) roads, Neil calls out from behind (it being my turn to take the map and lead), </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">“How do you say 'hi' in Hungarian ?”</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">“Szía”</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">“Deer!”</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">“No, szía, like see-ya”</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">“No, deer – on the right”</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">There were three russet coloured deer grazing peacefully, or had been, now they were looking rather startled at our yelled conversation, in the fallow field between corn crops. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">After a couple of hours spent on a mixture of very potholed roads, deep gravel paths and the occasional decent road we arrived in Lipot, and halted at the lovely peaceful campground between two lakes off the Danube (called the Duna in Hungary). After our dinner of pasta with tomato and tuna sauce we relaxed over a couple of cups of Hungarian red wine (a very cheap one, which was actually pretty good) and watched the sun sink behind reeds at the lake's edge, and the full moon rise in the other direction. Then the mosquitos arrived.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVNCk4_0BQrY0PEEnVCfLTjXoFCnicB58vS9mfQDwN3o3worx_Bw2nTW_btL6zLMFSGpeG28SkyQtUlW_jgKhhk5JgLCyTeeUJhPADxy7U-u6Xk_zPHzfr4qfgM3WbZiMdg6b76weThFa/s1600/20110812-_DSC4462.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVNCk4_0BQrY0PEEnVCfLTjXoFCnicB58vS9mfQDwN3o3worx_Bw2nTW_btL6zLMFSGpeG28SkyQtUlW_jgKhhk5JgLCyTeeUJhPADxy7U-u6Xk_zPHzfr4qfgM3WbZiMdg6b76weThFa/s640/20110812-_DSC4462.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Cyclists welcome ? Slovakia-Hungary border.</i></span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Saturday was our first full day in Hungary, spent mostly on cycle paths (which were sort of smooth) and roads (which were mostly smoooth), with a couple of really rough sections on extremely bumpy and potholed roads just to test our mettle. Just before lunchtime, passing through Gyor, we happened upon a festival of some sort in the (very attractive) main square. It looked to be a bit of a medieval fair with costumed dancers and a really cool (very) old fashioned merry-go-round. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVXdYPikRJZ2rDUi5ajW94xiPwFG-K2-xrLtb3SBs0N6Zu3S37jX-sMSgIPR-kJVyGoyzOifzIFZrbYBWYqVpobxMwd_003cs89UMY5tqOOZT1VXer4Knsz0V_WZ-f6aO8WhivBaFyew5j/s1600/20110813-_DSC4466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVXdYPikRJZ2rDUi5ajW94xiPwFG-K2-xrLtb3SBs0N6Zu3S37jX-sMSgIPR-kJVyGoyzOifzIFZrbYBWYqVpobxMwd_003cs89UMY5tqOOZT1VXer4Knsz0V_WZ-f6aO8WhivBaFyew5j/s640/20110813-_DSC4466.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Main square in Gyor.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAU7PFIoG83VDTyp_gs1TvK4xUsuDVsoI4pyYbMlCpj4_40_y6nRSvz5T04SRBEdSJv9TIdFGJ7XPGIBSWGfQD1_9EwoyRiGTAiKq39KNL2FXiga7qA2ztqYtkRuMRg2gysCUjxOkIjVQC/s1600/20110813-_DSC4472.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAU7PFIoG83VDTyp_gs1TvK4xUsuDVsoI4pyYbMlCpj4_40_y6nRSvz5T04SRBEdSJv9TIdFGJ7XPGIBSWGfQD1_9EwoyRiGTAiKq39KNL2FXiga7qA2ztqYtkRuMRg2gysCUjxOkIjVQC/s640/20110813-_DSC4472.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>My sort of fair ground ride !</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM0taNAOq7MWDAEM0cki6POI-TPue5YlrOH5mCynZNgF_vOHND9IB0cf5YDH0fp2CPTB4OQb3H0KKxpQNjYYajk9FPchf9LecMTIMq6QmK0Y8o6TQRxHy7HNvUh7R6OkE5Y9k5ULh4BPAN/s1600/20110815-_DSC4537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM0taNAOq7MWDAEM0cki6POI-TPue5YlrOH5mCynZNgF_vOHND9IB0cf5YDH0fp2CPTB4OQb3H0KKxpQNjYYajk9FPchf9LecMTIMq6QmK0Y8o6TQRxHy7HNvUh7R6OkE5Y9k5ULh4BPAN/s640/20110815-_DSC4537.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>This wasn't the worst by any means.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The food stalls looked and smelt fantastic too, but we had already bought our bread and cheese so we continued (eventually, after a wrong turn and some help from a couple of locals) out of town where we ate our picnic in between corn fields beside the bike path. We stayed that night in Komárom, a spa town, where there was also music happening, of a different sort. We were treated to Tom Jones and Beatles covers, some in Hungarian, some in English, until late into the night.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Komárom is twinned with Komarno on the Slovakian side of the Danube (they were one town until separated in the redrawing of boundaries after the first World War) and there we crossed back into Slovakia on Sunday morning to cycle among wild flowers (and the occasional goat herd) to the ruins of the Roman fortress of Kelemantia. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnhEr1yVDysojia3LkNUGJiDDnAHw_KdmMv26RcPuYaKLRrELBDh4eTHy-GMxtfsowiIpn3oWX5IZhbF_K1dlGIGZ6p42jyIKb_LqY2KFX2Wmeod4KZPYU6Qc8Ffyb_YVIBRtZZxmzeUa/s1600/20110814-_DSC4495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnhEr1yVDysojia3LkNUGJiDDnAHw_KdmMv26RcPuYaKLRrELBDh4eTHy-GMxtfsowiIpn3oWX5IZhbF_K1dlGIGZ6p42jyIKb_LqY2KFX2Wmeod4KZPYU6Qc8Ffyb_YVIBRtZZxmzeUa/s640/20110814-_DSC4495.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Across the Slovakian plains to the Visegrád mountains</i></span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE6ZXM9zWXCIoIsGYm5Xud84Q6YRFDl-5WbUJbEbsImYUFHM13cSSqaTdqW-GYtEtwhZ1JAYM2ySKoKj2tdWpMzF5IPhhLmbRG2sxTDKNRbZ9AO0nFrzCTFnz6GXgi9SSTTx_FYRjRpggH/s1600/20110814-_DSC4486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE6ZXM9zWXCIoIsGYm5Xud84Q6YRFDl-5WbUJbEbsImYUFHM13cSSqaTdqW-GYtEtwhZ1JAYM2ySKoKj2tdWpMzF5IPhhLmbRG2sxTDKNRbZ9AO0nFrzCTFnz6GXgi9SSTTx_FYRjRpggH/s640/20110814-_DSC4486.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>A stone map of the larger Roman garrisons of the area.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHgsVCLZYOCU8qJIBz4wUrhpKQrAJTtofuiJB5M1aiVWgHBzPPomsJaeAlPikS_yDx49Wru2DcKHnoLWVlmRy0J8qLSIj05fdFM0TGxLrnZiC6Mf-FcOevrhDfNhfS4vkia60EH8ezNFR/s1600/20110814-_DSC4482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHgsVCLZYOCU8qJIBz4wUrhpKQrAJTtofuiJB5M1aiVWgHBzPPomsJaeAlPikS_yDx49Wru2DcKHnoLWVlmRy0J8qLSIj05fdFM0TGxLrnZiC6Mf-FcOevrhDfNhfS4vkia60EH8ezNFR/s640/20110814-_DSC4482.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Wildflowers in front of the ruins of Kelemantia.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">We have seen many relics of Roman occupation in the area - for a couple of centuries the Danube was extremely important as the boundary of the Roman empire. Of course there have been many civilisations along the Danube from early stone age times and one of the things I regret not being able to see in Vienna (on account of the Natural History Museum being closed on Tuesdays) was the Willendorf Venus, a tiny stone fertility figure found by the river about a century ago.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Cycling through the flat plains of rural Slovakia, alongside fields of hay and corn, wild flowers and occasionally forest, we could see in the distance the blue mounds of the Visegrád mountains gradually coming closer. Then, about 10km before the town we saw the green verdigris dome of Esztergom's basilica, rising above the plains with the mountains as backdrop.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgetX3-uHPYGYBAC_HbCDrYrh-IYCF11lRw-BFK_s6k9lAUvBxSDviCmjQKcXYdgbHX1TyUeWjhLtCmzBfR8tBQvtjVOhyphenhyphen0o1UKw9rW825h1YvxTKGWA2vAA0aAvpc1mubt8YBQET8-lswm/s1600/20110814-_DSC4498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgetX3-uHPYGYBAC_HbCDrYrh-IYCF11lRw-BFK_s6k9lAUvBxSDviCmjQKcXYdgbHX1TyUeWjhLtCmzBfR8tBQvtjVOhyphenhyphen0o1UKw9rW825h1YvxTKGWA2vAA0aAvpc1mubt8YBQET8-lswm/s640/20110814-_DSC4498.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Esztergom basilica, from the bridge between Slovakia and Hungary - and it's not even called the Friendship bridge !</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">It had been our intention to arrive in Esztergom early in the afternoon, in order to explore the historic buildings of the town. We arrived early enough, making good time in the heat, but it was so hot by then that all we wanted to do was relax in the shade. So we did. Only rousing ourselves to move to go and see the spectacular sunset over the river.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LNTvz_Ktzl86oW_PjftcOIUfHWaGREjxZYxetsNalCgLZFDlo6DwTbl0vIcOQ8Q5Viuz9OYFYL2IxdB3KmWSrwZ6YwMJDDk95fw1sqsnswBVAJTnW7OGkBX5kt1QtRkdrbmpkX9jKsVg/s1600/20110814-_DSC4502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LNTvz_Ktzl86oW_PjftcOIUfHWaGREjxZYxetsNalCgLZFDlo6DwTbl0vIcOQ8Q5Viuz9OYFYL2IxdB3KmWSrwZ6YwMJDDk95fw1sqsnswBVAJTnW7OGkBX5kt1QtRkdrbmpkX9jKsVg/s640/20110814-_DSC4502.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Danube sunset.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPGgqwUACO2175HJl91XV4I94-Z0msjgeD9o49lBpCTYeIuFm6TgzWCGrL0qQTVlslrjVxJACkcfzonRaKuLDsVjHRkI1AhZ6TamxydJxc40YWDyLmZdCJmFm1aJn6dpa_8kmuaqANY7c/s1600/20110814-_DSC4503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPGgqwUACO2175HJl91XV4I94-Z0msjgeD9o49lBpCTYeIuFm6TgzWCGrL0qQTVlslrjVxJACkcfzonRaKuLDsVjHRkI1AhZ6TamxydJxc40YWDyLmZdCJmFm1aJn6dpa_8kmuaqANY7c/s640/20110814-_DSC4503.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Looking upstream from Esztergom.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">From Esztergom, the Danube curves around the 'Knee of the Danube', changing general direction from west-east to north-south because of the bulk of the Visegrád mountains to the east. So, riding out from Esztergom on Monday, early because we knew the forecast was for an even hotter day than Sunday, we were treated to lovely scenery all around as the river curved between foothills. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0vYgYMmzL5J3Y-SQghFPwqoiEwQjxaB1OQyA6-OuZgBXj8ZkTF3wG4vY3-9rnv1e7d1qz9YU8xx9OKds542B71E7_gdfVEVMH2mJYDfMlI3KT7FzW6cv5Xf1XERg9PwBYOW6HCxN1X0Kq/s1600/20110815-_DSC4522.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0vYgYMmzL5J3Y-SQghFPwqoiEwQjxaB1OQyA6-OuZgBXj8ZkTF3wG4vY3-9rnv1e7d1qz9YU8xx9OKds542B71E7_gdfVEVMH2mJYDfMlI3KT7FzW6cv5Xf1XERg9PwBYOW6HCxN1X0Kq/s640/20110815-_DSC4522.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>It's only 9.30 and we're sweating already !</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">As the hills faded into the distance behind us we began to pass more and more riverside cafés, bars and restaurants, boat ramps and beaches (some of them even sandy) as we got closer and closer to Budapest. To avoid unnecessary headaches, we elected to stay at a campground a couple of kilometres north of the city centre and catch the train in to sightsee on Tuesday. It is so much easier not having to negotiate city streets searching for information and accommodation with the fully laden bikes.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">*</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">words by Gabby, photos by Neil except for the pretty wildflower one</div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-36322990248075507612011-08-17T17:07:00.001+02:002011-08-17T17:44:17.750+02:00Exploring Carnuntum<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Ancient life and times</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Faded glory of empire</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Built anew for us</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Once we'd set up camp in the town of Petronell-Carnutum after leaving Vienna, we paid a visit to the open-air museum of Carnuntum.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH39t1dCW_eFZJCzT1HhIN4qpCB8gTKELu3FUFRcr92WthO3hU930mDtGQKUuAy6eUAq2J6WXhDaR_eNtw06NQfegvXngBnoSP169EEg8zoc3HPa0WE68peIsYD_IHvjqE0ao04ln-fC4l/s1600/20110811-_DSC4423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH39t1dCW_eFZJCzT1HhIN4qpCB8gTKELu3FUFRcr92WthO3hU930mDtGQKUuAy6eUAq2J6WXhDaR_eNtw06NQfegvXngBnoSP169EEg8zoc3HPa0WE68peIsYD_IHvjqE0ao04ln-fC4l/s640/20110811-_DSC4423.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">The mansion front view</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Carnuntum was a large-ish Roman city that was an important border and trading town, but it became “world famous” when, in the 3<sup>rd</sup> century AD, when a conference was held there to decide the fate of the Empire (just so you know, you should be listening to the Imperial March for greater effect while reading this post).</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The decision was made to divvy the empire up into a tetrarchy, to try and stop every second general declaring himself Caesar. It did work for a bit, but in the end, one of them by the name of Constantine (later humbly known as “The Great”), kicked the other Tetrarch's butts and took sole control of the empire. You just can't trust some people. The tetrarchy, however, did seem to kick off both Constantine and Galerius' (another of the Tetrarchs) conversion to Christianity, which was kind of a big thing.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Marcus Aurelius also lived there for a time, when he penned the second of his “Meditations”, all the while kicking the crap out of the annoying Germanic tribes on the other side of the river.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The Austrians have done some amazing work with the place, there are semi-rebuilt amphitheaters in two locations and in the open-air museum they have rebuilt a couple of the Roman buildings using the types of materials and techniques that would have been available at the time. They've even filled the gardens with plants that are the most likely (as far as they can tell) to have been used in cooking and medicine at the time.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The first rebuilt house we came to was a smaller one, probably/possibly belonging to a reasonably successful merchant (they figure this by the area in which it was, i.e. a fair way away from the legionnaire’s barracks). It was a fairly simple affair, as roman stuff goes, with pleasant cool tiling and a nice little garden. Something like that would do Gab and myself quite nicely, although we'd need another floor to fit the library.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmqTfxhpA4TD6s5lfdY_A0R7CcG-aaGSvQd34RC8mUQak8LHguZIAmQzeYhrAi4iNA1oDhQM0nbeSli4Q1zLB2HcM8-Zea6LyJUYFKh0KpzlT1oC7FKxo9E3-Fvcsz3upguKrO0_0uO6lk/s1600/20110811-_DSC4404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmqTfxhpA4TD6s5lfdY_A0R7CcG-aaGSvQd34RC8mUQak8LHguZIAmQzeYhrAi4iNA1oDhQM0nbeSli4Q1zLB2HcM8-Zea6LyJUYFKh0KpzlT1oC7FKxo9E3-Fvcsz3upguKrO0_0uO6lk/s640/20110811-_DSC4404.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">The inside of the merchant's home, Gabby included free of charge</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> The other rebuilt house was a slightly more grand affair, as you can see from the top picture - a large mansion, including its own thermal baths. Fairly swish and, again, situated a long way from the oiks in the legion. With the mansion, the Austrians have even painted and decorated the walls and furniture in ways that match the old records. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-6OQh2u8EdPx_axTxt8EArYoxBSWYK2YEg3ZMMu_5jqQV83Rd1c4qS58k5mMEmNyz7vMtXB2khXf3Jh9tWwLCY95WHtJ0fjur2WOMLC7QSdjP8TLDCdX4T3vSSBB6LjFA4di6pkqlS2z/s1600/20110811-_DSC4411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-6OQh2u8EdPx_axTxt8EArYoxBSWYK2YEg3ZMMu_5jqQV83Rd1c4qS58k5mMEmNyz7vMtXB2khXf3Jh9tWwLCY95WHtJ0fjur2WOMLC7QSdjP8TLDCdX4T3vSSBB6LjFA4di6pkqlS2z/s640/20110811-_DSC4411.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">View of part of the mansion from the back. At the right edge, you can just see the dome of the meeting hall</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8f623T0sffPu2i-AjDLHX36PZ0sbdJ-4yuKv2eVqzjxQDipHfB83b_rgj5Qx__RukAPrxEy_bhJPp4-2x19VH6C9p3aQ4MpB3vp_xehUowGSIUi7_2eO7xyAUJIsnsUECMis3s_aMK2f/s1600/20110811-_DSC4436.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8f623T0sffPu2i-AjDLHX36PZ0sbdJ-4yuKv2eVqzjxQDipHfB83b_rgj5Qx__RukAPrxEy_bhJPp4-2x19VH6C9p3aQ4MpB3vp_xehUowGSIUi7_2eO7xyAUJIsnsUECMis3s_aMK2f/s640/20110811-_DSC4436.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">The mansion's kitchen</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Pretty impressive, I have to say, and nice to see how the other half lived, with their fancy public meeting rooms and such (the Romans didn't consider their homes as places of quiet and privacy, but rather as public stages on which they greeted associates, formed cabals, earned favours and influence and all the other political and social intriguing that the Romans were famous for.)</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSggM_aOpdIHU8v-L6ORMOAwzLepXX3lTTySM2OADtTKWXxM69h6Mklh_vXmN2VdfpWwE4KXqqhusJCdrLY6RPic-rtmjELBMC3HsKF9M-I_BaNIBiMOJaC5Ga92-T6fUzKk-t694iei9f/s1600/20110811-_DSC4434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSggM_aOpdIHU8v-L6ORMOAwzLepXX3lTTySM2OADtTKWXxM69h6Mklh_vXmN2VdfpWwE4KXqqhusJCdrLY6RPic-rtmjELBMC3HsKF9M-I_BaNIBiMOJaC5Ga92-T6fUzKk-t694iei9f/s640/20110811-_DSC4434.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">The meeting hall</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-PP6gZzk9LDeOHUOhFvmYcsE-kAGFAndfj_XsIufyvwbGR12yaPn2KZc2NwCviMoOhMyDYpUHdaNFA0YRuBrDgxs1K3XlOVkthGWIv6sonB8f6kqocC1hZhnxVwkOYLAlZhspXKKlgvl/s1600/20110811-_DSC4441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-PP6gZzk9LDeOHUOhFvmYcsE-kAGFAndfj_XsIufyvwbGR12yaPn2KZc2NwCviMoOhMyDYpUHdaNFA0YRuBrDgxs1K3XlOVkthGWIv6sonB8f6kqocC1hZhnxVwkOYLAlZhspXKKlgvl/s640/20110811-_DSC4441.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">On the private side of the mansion, photo taken up from a smallish platform for reading and resting. The baths began through the door to the left.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> There were also other ruins that had been semi-rebuilt, mainly just foundations and the bases of the walls, but showing how the hypocausts were built and stuff like that – cool if you've not seen it before, but we've done Rome, darling, so this stuff is all old hat now, I'm afraid.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivwKF5nT_vzTrmdod8Nxsap8NUIBwjNsI7tkcjCkm5QzDoNe5e62PqaTvwE8KfkJ-zYv0agAnSPfpWs7CRC7T2QetlwAmhLRoPexp_cTt2pcbxijRuF74p1r8EnxNuG1GzSVNQzkShzYWa/s1600/20110811-_DSC4439.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivwKF5nT_vzTrmdod8Nxsap8NUIBwjNsI7tkcjCkm5QzDoNe5e62PqaTvwE8KfkJ-zYv0agAnSPfpWs7CRC7T2QetlwAmhLRoPexp_cTt2pcbxijRuF74p1r8EnxNuG1GzSVNQzkShzYWa/s640/20110811-_DSC4439.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Interesting chimney pots on top of the mansion</span></i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDkzyFWOuaIOtxDf4-xFvNwlWoZm59Pen8Kwwi-5ib_2HazKjzXyXmBCWaROvAQKkYXl2iCYx2_WUsG3WzyuoBH1H8IE8Qwt7DcXFcYCvPjTOShP8VzTDqjcpzzmVLxcDo466TIsb8Zy8/s640/20110811-_DSC4445.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Gabby about to pen her next bestseller up in the office</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDkzyFWOuaIOtxDf4-xFvNwlWoZm59Pen8Kwwi-5ib_2HazKjzXyXmBCWaROvAQKkYXl2iCYx2_WUsG3WzyuoBH1H8IE8Qwt7DcXFcYCvPjTOShP8VzTDqjcpzzmVLxcDo466TIsb8Zy8/s1600/20110811-_DSC4445.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></a></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> There was also a very well done clay model of the city and surrounds – even down to the funeral and grave sites strung out along the roads leaving the town. Sadly, we didn't bother with any photos of it, as it was too big to get in one go and wouldn't have done it justice. Had Gabby let me get that wide-angle lens I'd been annoying her about, it might have been another story, so I guess it's actually all her fault, so you can blame her...)</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">It was a nice, if hot, afternoon's jaunt, although seeing people on a segway tour through the place was definitely disconcerting. I mean, seriously, a more ridiculous way of getting around, I can't conceive.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">** </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Words and most of the pics by Neil </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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</div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-22276519193875220062011-08-13T21:03:00.002+02:002012-06-10T11:13:50.731+02:00Wild raspberries and Baroque architecture<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The joy of ice cream,</div>
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blue skies, hot sun, cold flavour -</div>
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it's gone all too soon.</div>
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From the sublime to the utterly ridiculous, following the Donauradweg (Danube cycle route) from Passau to Vienna.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIOtyeVeHYOXfP_wHPXbm028X15mOUTYBSw6cziKRL6KFZYXqsGECMvAY8PdMItBK0Qce4QIzg8BwMxCnTgbuNhOjoTL1FEA5uEMpdGuJg1PqKGzCXZP_9-B0xjRhWnIAtNULXeK-LtZOR/s1600/20110801-_DSC4122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIOtyeVeHYOXfP_wHPXbm028X15mOUTYBSw6cziKRL6KFZYXqsGECMvAY8PdMItBK0Qce4QIzg8BwMxCnTgbuNhOjoTL1FEA5uEMpdGuJg1PqKGzCXZP_9-B0xjRhWnIAtNULXeK-LtZOR/s640/20110801-_DSC4122.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Camping at the Canoe Club in Passau, late afternoon.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQIoIwLMx_PKUIfB-n9OUtiBsGaQIsDOU0APk2FYWKUNmJSmWgmq2Px3clFgyGvFtf8AroJhkYxCWmXiENC5RaDXpPrVY-Knu38IP49HCz5BXYLRKvbUB8afRGjAN3WuGaBX_y8d2Dyt4/s1600/20110801-_DSC4126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQIoIwLMx_PKUIfB-n9OUtiBsGaQIsDOU0APk2FYWKUNmJSmWgmq2Px3clFgyGvFtf8AroJhkYxCWmXiENC5RaDXpPrVY-Knu38IP49HCz5BXYLRKvbUB8afRGjAN3WuGaBX_y8d2Dyt4/s640/20110801-_DSC4126.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Our first taste of German beer - from a Passau brewery.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHAiEVBTW2b20lwMtE072cR8AUHfrdhK4yu7rAkINF0fDjNc8Bwa4qj2qOjNzxqB4ORe5Mw_37xzIWbWeV05dy0FjVtLmmgctAk4Fi0IgtR6uRuXl2QNJrR7__T6oKFs6_agcfMjuIWvmL/s1600/20110802-_DSC4131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHAiEVBTW2b20lwMtE072cR8AUHfrdhK4yu7rAkINF0fDjNc8Bwa4qj2qOjNzxqB4ORe5Mw_37xzIWbWeV05dy0FjVtLmmgctAk4Fi0IgtR6uRuXl2QNJrR7__T6oKFs6_agcfMjuIWvmL/s640/20110802-_DSC4131.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Passau, Germany.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPE_F0HezQJq8x6AuCZHwvGoQO6BJbet05vCXEvWsf2OF38jbtfmetCB6QxG9PZ66BiamgloKeL42KPjAm3GSaM9mQjenIMBR82jsPYSR4MxUiyrZIr19ipFIT5PBkdh9aJaitP9mZCDyW/s1600/20110802-_DSC4162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPE_F0HezQJq8x6AuCZHwvGoQO6BJbet05vCXEvWsf2OF38jbtfmetCB6QxG9PZ66BiamgloKeL42KPjAm3GSaM9mQjenIMBR82jsPYSR4MxUiyrZIr19ipFIT5PBkdh9aJaitP9mZCDyW/s640/20110802-_DSC4162.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Affixing the new Brooks saddle.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrQ_j-6bd2hZ5_IfPJe8pFzdikiDW-CvgaQj7_hY0HEB460yz1nqUox_LRHoH9z2e1tdvBWvFM4ez0yYm2gWRrT2UHWsUnIjVNaGsqJ7zt0RU3a3bR7V_U6hlWLSsdwumGlOzxv7iXrA3/s1600/20110802-_DSC4183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmrQ_j-6bd2hZ5_IfPJe8pFzdikiDW-CvgaQj7_hY0HEB460yz1nqUox_LRHoH9z2e1tdvBWvFM4ez0yYm2gWRrT2UHWsUnIjVNaGsqJ7zt0RU3a3bR7V_U6hlWLSsdwumGlOzxv7iXrA3/s640/20110802-_DSC4183.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Neil cooking pfifferling omlette.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWgmXewMEZXd5ouEt4a9x4hqYWp5wuYXeLAH2j0eSNddUWWlGjciMfoR9A2uUvzheczpDc46dtWq9Dpw7LQPMjvWCbDZGd7mYI412IomkXRpYdc_tlvtnspkBdYCRBgBgZFDuZD6_wj9WA/s1600/20110803-_DSC4184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWgmXewMEZXd5ouEt4a9x4hqYWp5wuYXeLAH2j0eSNddUWWlGjciMfoR9A2uUvzheczpDc46dtWq9Dpw7LQPMjvWCbDZGd7mYI412IomkXRpYdc_tlvtnspkBdYCRBgBgZFDuZD6_wj9WA/s640/20110803-_DSC4184.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Linda and John, from New Zealand, our camping neighbours for a couple of nights in Passau.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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After a couple of days exploring and relaxing in Passau in the very welcome sunshine, we departed last Thursday in the rain. Again. The rain lifted after an hour or two and we found ourselves in Austria. It didn't look or feel very different to Germany. </div>
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Then the hills started closing in around us and we came to the Schlogen bend where a huge granite mountain blocks the course of the Danube, forcing it to loop suddenly and us to take a ferry around a steeply wooded section. We had just missed one ferry, so had our lunch while waiting for the next. </div>
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The ferries are small boats with seating at the back and a bare planked area with a ramp for bikes at the front. There were ten people and ten bikes on ours (though none of the bikes were as heavily laden) from Au on the north bank to Inzell around the loop on the south bank. The boat was probably about three quarters full.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcw0YnvR0KEwDOcWmXkXtCjbjeYCrZypSc8IBpqkntbSLKIVgMVpFWyQQw9R3S8siejaPOKKoTSor9QnKsB1MOPPypbAQ88_q7-AcPFp_9VMADdaeUDFYJS1VzhWaykpQbgLZ8Pf7nam_/s1600/20110804-_DSC4199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcw0YnvR0KEwDOcWmXkXtCjbjeYCrZypSc8IBpqkntbSLKIVgMVpFWyQQw9R3S8siejaPOKKoTSor9QnKsB1MOPPypbAQ88_q7-AcPFp_9VMADdaeUDFYJS1VzhWaykpQbgLZ8Pf7nam_/s640/20110804-_DSC4199.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The strictly controlled German - Austrian border.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUoFMiYUGJ_zh0jmQCo0fvIhvw8T70OwKMld4Rg-uxMDZoiewLh6GZETiI0q6UHZP106XBP4hRqrGKP-Au5psy5Mkzs9uo48gK8nEQFodBD0Fd7nwKTM92apJC5yGw2LNO1d-GCtoHGra/s1600/20110804-_DSC4205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUoFMiYUGJ_zh0jmQCo0fvIhvw8T70OwKMld4Rg-uxMDZoiewLh6GZETiI0q6UHZP106XBP4hRqrGKP-Au5psy5Mkzs9uo48gK8nEQFodBD0Fd7nwKTM92apJC5yGw2LNO1d-GCtoHGra/s640/20110804-_DSC4205.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Cycle ferry boat, Schlogen loop, Austria.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3yyotAhMvUliPqBlUSHVDVn3C7koaN_MAT9q26fNBwpnSxvMGtUfYMUHPUrHZSXDrcj6Rjet9-TDpuMD4JxqtCmtZ0R4JQOmYzB_Vy6EfeuuZlXLw7qgKERsteQm5sPzyuBXo9IWxVnV/s1600/20110804-_DSC4219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF3yyotAhMvUliPqBlUSHVDVn3C7koaN_MAT9q26fNBwpnSxvMGtUfYMUHPUrHZSXDrcj6Rjet9-TDpuMD4JxqtCmtZ0R4JQOmYzB_Vy6EfeuuZlXLw7qgKERsteQm5sPzyuBXo9IWxVnV/s640/20110804-_DSC4219.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>On the ferry.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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On the south side of the Danube we edged around the river under the shade of dark forest. Not travelling too far so I could gently break in my new saddle without it hurting too much, we stopped at Kaiserau on Thursday night. It was a peaceful spot overlooked by castle ruins high up on the opposite bank. The first to arrive, over the course of the afternoon the campingplatz filled with cycle tourists – the Passau to Vienna stretch being the most popular cycle route in Europe. Every camping spot this week has been chock-a-block with the tents of cyclists.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmZt7LwV-dTil4bErBLd8l19loRxmT4ndCis7m08nv6ypAoNKh9a0epOJx7v30OM62OV_1eCuBox9fX0IQuxf7UEZhyphenhyphenlCrKp8GSZQ6w4pIhd04CHNL1yja3tGmfeMctKz6BlYTanV_NpCJ/s1600/20110804-_DSC4229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmZt7LwV-dTil4bErBLd8l19loRxmT4ndCis7m08nv6ypAoNKh9a0epOJx7v30OM62OV_1eCuBox9fX0IQuxf7UEZhyphenhyphenlCrKp8GSZQ6w4pIhd04CHNL1yja3tGmfeMctKz6BlYTanV_NpCJ/s640/20110804-_DSC4229.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Peaceful Danube at Kaiserau, Austria.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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Friday morning we awoke to mist on the river and cloud on the hilltops but it cleared quickly into a hot and humid 35 degree day. Leaving Kaiserau and its peaceful valley we soon crossed to the other side of the river, passing through farmland then uninspiring industrial landscapes as we cycled past Linz. We camped that night at Au am der Donau after passing through Mauthausen, the site of one of the last concentration camps to be liberated after the second World War. We didn't visit the memorial.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhbUW1OLCH84i1VlEgVLZFra_l0ClXtRxdWEI8Qv7ONorc4kBltA4txE_4dbUyXVzd9yhym0QNm4jCrcwtzEJJJ8NG537eXky0pi0xmnXDa7wbQYeOfnGM_vou_4vpCE3FLFlSQqHjtMy/s1600/20110806-_DSC4254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPhbUW1OLCH84i1VlEgVLZFra_l0ClXtRxdWEI8Qv7ONorc4kBltA4txE_4dbUyXVzd9yhym0QNm4jCrcwtzEJJJ8NG537eXky0pi0xmnXDa7wbQYeOfnGM_vou_4vpCE3FLFlSQqHjtMy/s640/20110806-_DSC4254.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Lunch by the river, just before finding the wild raspberries.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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Keeping to the left bank (as you head downstream) for most of Saturday morning, we crossed over again just before Grein, staying on the right bank all the way to Melk. A pleasant day's cycling with the even nicer surprise of finding some wild raspberries at lunch, we cycled partly under the shade of forest and almost entirely along the riverbank. You might think that following the Danube cycle route we would be riding alongside the river the whole time but much of the route is away from the river, passing through villages, skirting around lakes and smaller tributary rivers.</div>
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I was very glad to arrive in Melk and get off the bike – 200km in three days is not the ideal way to break in a new Brooks saddle and still be able to walk. Or sit. Our first two nights saw us at campsites with picnic tables but I couldn't sit on the hard wooden seats. By the third, my bum was feeling so battered and bruised I was getting shooting pains down my legs as I pedalled the last few kilometres. We decided to rest in Melk on Sunday and explore the huge abbey that we could see rising above the town.</div>
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Melk Abbey was originally founded in the 1100's under the Benedictine rule then rebuilt in the early 1700's in the Baroque style popular with the Hapsburgs. How they reconciled the jaw-dropping extravagance of Baroque architecture and decoration with the simplicity of the Benedictine rule is beyond me. The church in particular is positively gaudy with golden embellishments and frescos adorn ceilings in many rooms. Even the famed library didn't escape. We did however like the pair of huge globes more than one metre across – one for the terrestrial continents (or what they were thought to be at that time) and one for the celestial bodies.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0EdeOZ7e5OiVuwKCaaGhv9_6MMx83-L8Gd4lSPe0m672T9Tdi4vCiiMTEIWQ3lzM1inriihY3AJWIWUqeiGZfNrEKsmdcqT8Iym7WZPB-OERCT3qx8V446d_J6rjHhvoV5_UkwYMnHkc/s1600/20110807-_DSC4257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0EdeOZ7e5OiVuwKCaaGhv9_6MMx83-L8Gd4lSPe0m672T9Tdi4vCiiMTEIWQ3lzM1inriihY3AJWIWUqeiGZfNrEKsmdcqT8Iym7WZPB-OERCT3qx8V446d_J6rjHhvoV5_UkwYMnHkc/s640/20110807-_DSC4257.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Melk Abbey from below.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3eoXcZN4OhUPyUFZibwZrJb2HOaNJL6B2ozDB7tCbhejuqrNXKR_gKOLGFn5Wx9L2yfq6sqiV6VW20-eqiaWRijSjoylFL3nqQYJKVTrjQUnmukZnAJIWNSvr5eqZElkz3A0Zo7rgsTds/s1600/20110807-_DSC4265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3eoXcZN4OhUPyUFZibwZrJb2HOaNJL6B2ozDB7tCbhejuqrNXKR_gKOLGFn5Wx9L2yfq6sqiV6VW20-eqiaWRijSjoylFL3nqQYJKVTrjQUnmukZnAJIWNSvr5eqZElkz3A0Zo7rgsTds/s640/20110807-_DSC4265.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Melk Abbey, entrance.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZaXsUq8mNKtnBew1D7AXE0V3QgxdtlQw2XL-qxcNHk3HS3A4q0uzC8IN1UE1k1bx30VPmg5lBlkMXyiZeyzKdY_n0u27E5jVFlYT9rPxHuKM6vmz1UCuEJqdLhxvaxB0fH_kHJvawjnP/s1600/20110807-_DSC4286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZaXsUq8mNKtnBew1D7AXE0V3QgxdtlQw2XL-qxcNHk3HS3A4q0uzC8IN1UE1k1bx30VPmg5lBlkMXyiZeyzKdY_n0u27E5jVFlYT9rPxHuKM6vmz1UCuEJqdLhxvaxB0fH_kHJvawjnP/s640/20110807-_DSC4286.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Abbey library.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOu7dPHvuadhwkGBX8zfdIvSaotsgMohsLWKHsNEWYKQkSRBp7mB6qbUfjhPLzyTJucKrCSS2LPAr1uEYeHA6BJAcUxvVKwxWLyQdIh_fMVU7REr1_IUXpmriJJu5eFtUshyphenhyphencyD3fT4WPC/s1600/20110807-_DSC4299.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOu7dPHvuadhwkGBX8zfdIvSaotsgMohsLWKHsNEWYKQkSRBp7mB6qbUfjhPLzyTJucKrCSS2LPAr1uEYeHA6BJAcUxvVKwxWLyQdIh_fMVU7REr1_IUXpmriJJu5eFtUshyphenhyphencyD3fT4WPC/s640/20110807-_DSC4299.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Illuminated copy of the Benedictine rule.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJaIUa8zShJHzc2Tihw7gcCuAv8hO3e9EKtOvAKm0GdcnV3pA9v7leb4R_sr_pLuJzaBtXrAUcsFGZX8gaVudFll0OXeNQTINW9hNPpGXgw3HwmctWe2EFTaM4fx40JKXXdb_S8QSzqcyC/s1600/20110807-_DSC4302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJaIUa8zShJHzc2Tihw7gcCuAv8hO3e9EKtOvAKm0GdcnV3pA9v7leb4R_sr_pLuJzaBtXrAUcsFGZX8gaVudFll0OXeNQTINW9hNPpGXgw3HwmctWe2EFTaM4fx40JKXXdb_S8QSzqcyC/s640/20110807-_DSC4302.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Cool staircase, looks like the inside of a seashell.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbtcoH02s-SOSJYdppPJJ_TiqfE4DDDWzwUEy4k4tdkmxZj-FrZQlJSUy98iK5r6dcOtqMEzWegAchA16N6eekg_kZ9rCUsRx9TZb0JyD6QNrgmP16-lv40bgXY4xS_FyCwS7mLy_gtJp/s1600/20110807-_DSC4305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbtcoH02s-SOSJYdppPJJ_TiqfE4DDDWzwUEy4k4tdkmxZj-FrZQlJSUy98iK5r6dcOtqMEzWegAchA16N6eekg_kZ9rCUsRx9TZb0JyD6QNrgmP16-lv40bgXY4xS_FyCwS7mLy_gtJp/s640/20110807-_DSC4305.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The humble abbey church.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnb3byt0g7trxEPJs7h6VNNuD4i6WvW4MXmCPi2Ym5Yu5JEpyAXroc9aUlytbZNrPnBbJ0Iv1F4FArqJ4PSASdiqN1mC9FQGXPhsFY0azCX9LhJ-Hy3l2KXeIwD-22LuNdWx5L7vz4_W_q/s1600/20110807-_DSC4318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnb3byt0g7trxEPJs7h6VNNuD4i6WvW4MXmCPi2Ym5Yu5JEpyAXroc9aUlytbZNrPnBbJ0Iv1F4FArqJ4PSASdiqN1mC9FQGXPhsFY0azCX9LhJ-Hy3l2KXeIwD-22LuNdWx5L7vz4_W_q/s640/20110807-_DSC4318.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Pew decoration.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We were still shaking our heads in bemusement as we cleared our palates with ice-creams, walking through the cobbled streets of the town.</div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Sunday afternoon brought more rain and it was still raining Monday morning as we prepared to leave. Melk to Krems, through the wine growing district of the Wachau is considered the highlight of the Passau to Vienna section. Unfortunately we didn't take any photos in the rain but it was a lovely morning's ride.</div>
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We cycled along the right bank and we could see opposite the green hillsides of south facing vines – many of the vines are grown in horizontal rows, giving the hills a stepped appearance. However we saw it all through a veil of mist and rain. The taller hills were crowded with ruins of castles, again partly covered by clouds. Among these were the ruins of Durnstein castle where Richard Coeur de Lion was held captive on his return from crusading.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVMCC9y69o4JDAJ2IsIc2G1W_8BNBVemiu_byqiZBlw9Er4GAWniVhjr7YUvp_AQXo8h4va8Ln1vGnAp5t2oF8z1C59gw3z2Hv4atxTbugfZ3YibfmUobN3anWzpsS-75LfJuyUo4F7Jj3/s1600/20110808-_DSC4331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVMCC9y69o4JDAJ2IsIc2G1W_8BNBVemiu_byqiZBlw9Er4GAWniVhjr7YUvp_AQXo8h4va8Ln1vGnAp5t2oF8z1C59gw3z2Hv4atxTbugfZ3YibfmUobN3anWzpsS-75LfJuyUo4F7Jj3/s640/20110808-_DSC4331.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>A momentary break in the rain, not far from Melk.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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The rain eased through the middle of the day and the hills flattened out into riverine plain as we headed for Tulln, another old Roman garrison town. From Tulln we had an easy ride into Klosterneuburg, just outside of Vienna. We camped there and caught the train into the city, knowing our previous luck with navigating around a large town on the bikes. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAJGwOlDh1Ebz6wV_omTkTUQNk5k_cFPTYt-mn-KKyGOMl3z0Aobejxuw9v1rEJbQvk2vcheaiOeLmc8MhX5McYVySYb45fwfwBN8CypJvz41hkx9JpqIZoHlQh5RRoJQle5LZGlR2bPRd/s1600/20110809-_DSC4334.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAJGwOlDh1Ebz6wV_omTkTUQNk5k_cFPTYt-mn-KKyGOMl3z0Aobejxuw9v1rEJbQvk2vcheaiOeLmc8MhX5McYVySYb45fwfwBN8CypJvz41hkx9JpqIZoHlQh5RRoJQle5LZGlR2bPRd/s640/20110809-_DSC4334.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Heading toward Vienna, by the Danube - it's still not blue!</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Tuesday we spent exploring Vienna, tramping the streets and gawking at majestic buildings, paying our first museum visit of the trip – the the magnificent Art History Museum. The museums (and churches) here are fairly expensive to visit, fortunately we are quite happy just wandering around absorbing the feel of a place, people watching and food sampling.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmPP-pRQR48zU1WxRehYRyM9QuOT-RW372_zcbIJdprmwv2bDsm_U4t6YJqI6JxYyA9jdK7SEkgndtYhGpSUDuV-ZOCviyX-bUVOkuyn3KVulGo34mfFXYt7I8rYSPyucSPrg5pFFpPLvX/s1600/20110809-_DSC4337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmPP-pRQR48zU1WxRehYRyM9QuOT-RW372_zcbIJdprmwv2bDsm_U4t6YJqI6JxYyA9jdK7SEkgndtYhGpSUDuV-ZOCviyX-bUVOkuyn3KVulGo34mfFXYt7I8rYSPyucSPrg5pFFpPLvX/s640/20110809-_DSC4337.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Foyer ceiling, Art History Museum, Vienna.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagzXVU14VZxBVJ2Ewj5mc77-qLVbexHpyJ2rNrY-b8EeUomutvMKv9xX2MAo3qcModPBgMIKVS7OBTg-zH16F_SMp4OphLvZsOP8pVM_i2KGimTJgonmVwvMdNwBXWduIr4-LOswUZnsG/s1600/20110809-_DSC4340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagzXVU14VZxBVJ2Ewj5mc77-qLVbexHpyJ2rNrY-b8EeUomutvMKv9xX2MAo3qcModPBgMIKVS7OBTg-zH16F_SMp4OphLvZsOP8pVM_i2KGimTJgonmVwvMdNwBXWduIr4-LOswUZnsG/s640/20110809-_DSC4340.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Ancient Egyptian sarcophagus, Art History Museum, Vienna.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfcxoYhqkgMfEAhvCMY-D8jpXTAjpeZqp3jYNXxX5dfEfsW7VktTZc_k-We_E-q2Phswhw8HdKzJ83UrASvIrWvh6_Le8vtxpiy6Itxxin5nkWgB6VQlCpNgDzKZp9nMZ6DdP0SjGfou3s/s1600/20110809-_DSC4376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfcxoYhqkgMfEAhvCMY-D8jpXTAjpeZqp3jYNXxX5dfEfsW7VktTZc_k-We_E-q2Phswhw8HdKzJ83UrASvIrWvh6_Le8vtxpiy6Itxxin5nkWgB6VQlCpNgDzKZp9nMZ6DdP0SjGfou3s/s640/20110809-_DSC4376.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Ancient Roman floor mosaic, Art History Museum, Vienna.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
From here we head toward Slovakia and Hungary, putting away the German phrasebook and unearthing the Eastern Europe phrasebook from the depths of our panniers. Interesting times ahead !</div>
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P.S: I wrote the above post on Wednesday but we haven't had any internet access until now. We are currently in Komárom, Hungary, a couple of days away from Budapest, so hopefully we'll have more luck with internet access and we can post another update. </div>
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*</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
words - Gabby; images - mostly Neil</div>
</div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-3089627468052198542011-08-03T13:01:00.000+02:002011-08-03T13:01:24.633+02:00Raindrops keep falling on my head<span lang="EN-IE">Limpid green river</span> <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">reflecting tall trees, grey sky -</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">limestone towers loom.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">We are currently enjoying a couple of days in Passau, a lovely old city on the eastern edge of the German Bundes Republic, apparently where the Nibelungenlied was commissioned and composed. And we have been working on a saga or two of our own. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">This blog post has been written and re-written several times over the last week, each time we have tried to find an internet connection. Each time circumstances have knocked our attempts on the head. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">My slowly disintegrating saddle has been another saga of it's own. And the hunt for an inflatable camping pillow to replace the one I have had since Dublin, whose valve packed it in last week – I have been using one of our collapsible water sacs which did an admirable job in the circumstances. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">And the weather – well, it has been a saga all on it's own. Central Europe is having it's wettest summer in ten years.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">After more than two weeks of rain, we finally saw the sun again yesterday. The rain jackets have been put away (for the moment) and short sleeves and sandals have come out again. Muddy campgrounds are still drying out and we're still cleaning mud and dirt out of our panniers and off the bikes.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">So, going back a few days since our last post...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4om_cC34wlrpGkWzB1SWqLTvMPLlVEf7Roplr-W_vqTdDRi2K_cYrwOdBfktfqeuIZIAIV3IVecWNkkOUVVde-Ty4VW-tmYVzGEvd78IjA9Dxk-2M0rz_g5cpZzdIncgZ71Rfu5letZoG/s1600/20110722-_DSC3856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4om_cC34wlrpGkWzB1SWqLTvMPLlVEf7Roplr-W_vqTdDRi2K_cYrwOdBfktfqeuIZIAIV3IVecWNkkOUVVde-Ty4VW-tmYVzGEvd78IjA9Dxk-2M0rz_g5cpZzdIncgZ71Rfu5letZoG/s640/20110722-_DSC3856.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Just near the start of the Danube</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table> <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Friday, a week and a half ago, as we were about to leave Donaueschingen, the source of the Danube, Neil realised (after we had packed all our gear onto the bikes) that the bike mechanic had put his rear tyre on back to front when she replaced his wheel. Hmmm. Then the rain started. Not an auspicious start to our journey down the Danube.</span></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4l4Xs3_j5MhzaoJUrI0v20s96APuOLxjznctBYQjm8IVxDI5CE9Nx9LGEwNITLe6ANlyRDztNdynlEWGj6H54bWVIuKu4QUjnOAoldEZtrwbXmI9I9XtKd5iRyBeIVb3aF38wXh1f14gw/s1600/20110722-_DSC3869.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4l4Xs3_j5MhzaoJUrI0v20s96APuOLxjznctBYQjm8IVxDI5CE9Nx9LGEwNITLe6ANlyRDztNdynlEWGj6H54bWVIuKu4QUjnOAoldEZtrwbXmI9I9XtKd5iRyBeIVb3aF38wXh1f14gw/s640/20110722-_DSC3869.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Petersfelden cliffs - the start of the stunning gorge.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Nevertheless, we set out, hoping that the rain would ease during the day. It didn't, in fact it got heavier, raining solidly all morning until we arrived in Tuttlingen. Just when I had had enough of being wet and cold, ready to give up for the day, the sun came out. So we continued on, after Fridingen entering the spectacular narrow valley where the Danube flows between tall cliffs of limestone.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Along this section of the Danube the 300 metre tall cliffs are peppered with castles, ruins of castles and churches. Our route ran, for the most part, along the valley floor, next to the river, under the shadow of the Petersfelsen cliffs. Although the morning's pouring rain had eased, we were still treated to occasional showers and the cliffs and their heavily forested slopes disappeared from time to time behind curtains of cloud and mist. Absolutely stunning.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM3gaTCNoH-x93zz12p9RmIstFNyKeMAte4izjHQ_isY4N8xdcn-_RsHWN6RPF3gq5JrsRgZC6DUJoegtodQEztnRoGaXrK0vodwO29UpVT53zCJBXqdyNBhlnovmc-k38DI_F1m99GaY2/s1600/20110722-_DSC3874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM3gaTCNoH-x93zz12p9RmIstFNyKeMAte4izjHQ_isY4N8xdcn-_RsHWN6RPF3gq5JrsRgZC6DUJoegtodQEztnRoGaXrK0vodwO29UpVT53zCJBXqdyNBhlnovmc-k38DI_F1m99GaY2/s640/20110722-_DSC3874.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>More limestone towers.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnqfbQiyT5gEF6yuY3LxWc3N8ewDtdOmnBpDE4v7ot9o6sixkRgsUYHNBjv8s4lCBRs0I5kMRo0XozWXEM3Qej2Wr7RQcIhq6CXm6nBEJLwMXHrA4JpjhCzMvN-5qFxyC5oaESkPBsGZ0/s1600/20110722-_DSC3900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnqfbQiyT5gEF6yuY3LxWc3N8ewDtdOmnBpDE4v7ot9o6sixkRgsUYHNBjv8s4lCBRs0I5kMRo0XozWXEM3Qej2Wr7RQcIhq6CXm6nBEJLwMXHrA4JpjhCzMvN-5qFxyC5oaESkPBsGZ0/s640/20110722-_DSC3900.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Upper reaches of the Danube, another cliff top castle.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGGbAaQ6PWPP4m7FI_6L2IjVG3t2ufIJ5WphHMWmIxgwwWgqrQjar1MqI5sRZGtMvTa-yZf56F_iNnZeWcro9HceyShDaR7aaqjMOvvh4amSkHlaYbCBGwzGm4rObtvUyn8NjRSK0BFbqu/s1600/20110722-_DSC3905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGGbAaQ6PWPP4m7FI_6L2IjVG3t2ufIJ5WphHMWmIxgwwWgqrQjar1MqI5sRZGtMvTa-yZf56F_iNnZeWcro9HceyShDaR7aaqjMOvvh4amSkHlaYbCBGwzGm4rObtvUyn8NjRSK0BFbqu/s640/20110722-_DSC3905.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Our peaceful camp by the river in Hausen.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">We camped that night in Hausen, in a campingplatz along the river, a lovely peaceful place overshadowed by cliffs and the ruin of Wagenburg castle on the opposite bank. Neil took his back wheel off and put the tyre on the correct way and we both cleaned the muck off our bikes. Again. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">As the sun set insects chorused and bats and birds flitted about above us catching their evening meal. We were also treated to a glimpse of what we think were two beavers, gathering grass for their dam. Either that or rodents of unusually large size.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfsJbeToV0Hb_Nd__1mo5_5IPR3BglitdSzH6jDmAG-uvaFjCN3174YaPTpPtCH25gUpIJG0cBnlTuuoI5dLIbdVhtpvfeVJsbjZG_jUXXXI8OcoyIepLO7_QF4Niso77797Vg_mO-FRgK/s1600/20110724-_DSC3929.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfsJbeToV0Hb_Nd__1mo5_5IPR3BglitdSzH6jDmAG-uvaFjCN3174YaPTpPtCH25gUpIJG0cBnlTuuoI5dLIbdVhtpvfeVJsbjZG_jUXXXI8OcoyIepLO7_QF4Niso77797Vg_mO-FRgK/s640/20110724-_DSC3929.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Bike tyre tube dispenser.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Saturday we had a short day of riding, along the last section of the narrow rocky valley to Sigmaringen. Short but tiring, involving quite a few hills as we had to veer away from the river at the narrowest parts. We stayed two nights in Sigmaringen, spending Sunday relaxing and exploring the lovely old town. The castle has amazingly spindly stone turrets that look like they could have come straight from the brothers Grimm. Even the smaller houses in the town had painted decorations on walls and around windows.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPG99Q8GHuCuR92c7Nc5bcsG6nPlLS-a-LqIdc6ylCw2690R35_2-3RcQSQKA0vBmrymFzVMKtJUcavchcT3hGrCydLnMWJQx4A62FUi7vEVdw0NN0fkDmN3NpZNvxOqqJwJtoC2EHM8v/s1600/20110724-_DSC3934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPG99Q8GHuCuR92c7Nc5bcsG6nPlLS-a-LqIdc6ylCw2690R35_2-3RcQSQKA0vBmrymFzVMKtJUcavchcT3hGrCydLnMWJQx4A62FUi7vEVdw0NN0fkDmN3NpZNvxOqqJwJtoC2EHM8v/s640/20110724-_DSC3934.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Sigmaringen castle.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJlcplI_LJqpSSI-4ehvsHSEnWZaIkxfzeHBcBsZxh0Nd-o3lm4-JJN9xSjx1yyLqMLBQ7UnpoE6hAO8ogAKTjGsuezv8_BTHiK3v6K1Yw-hzx-S1LgoZ_361lWb3NcPSsGyOe_eQgq56/s1600/20110724-_DSC3948.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJlcplI_LJqpSSI-4ehvsHSEnWZaIkxfzeHBcBsZxh0Nd-o3lm4-JJN9xSjx1yyLqMLBQ7UnpoE6hAO8ogAKTjGsuezv8_BTHiK3v6K1Yw-hzx-S1LgoZ_361lWb3NcPSsGyOe_eQgq56/s640/20110724-_DSC3948.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>House decoration, Sigmaringen.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Monday saw us leave Sigmaringen heading east then north with the flow of the river – and for the first time in ten days, it didn't rain during the day. We even had a few minutes of sunshine! As the valley opened up, the lansdscape became similar to central France – small farming communities between fields of corn, wheat and hay. The buildings are shaped differently though, squat rather than tall and the rooves have a bit more of a pitch to them. Lots of solar panels too - it's not uncommon to see 20 or 30 solar panels arranged on the south side of a house or business roof. Church bell towers rise above the lansdcape, topped by onion shaped domes, squat domes or steeples, often with colourfully glazed tiles.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">The Danube kept widening little by little as we headed downstream, meandering along but flowing quite rapidly in a northeasterly direction through Germany. But it's not blue at all – it is a deep slime green. From Sigmaringen we cycled to Munderkingen, a mostly flat day's ride with a couple of hills just to spice things up. In Munderkingen we stayed at a zeltplatz – a camping area just for tents. As well as cyclists, there were a group of canoeists – we saw quite a few canoeists in the upper reaches of the river.</span></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKZyvpt0aIAfWlGTdLC6hXqnC8Yb1djNVh3DsiRavazNGFt5T704LX5bQKlJP6bbwr9ONwZ6VOKfUDacJ7BpiBXRISARApm-Vl9b15pUaRBY8Sl3KRjZDxMhD9QnoityyPqW2NO5DtWx6_/s1600/20110725-_DSC3960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKZyvpt0aIAfWlGTdLC6hXqnC8Yb1djNVh3DsiRavazNGFt5T704LX5bQKlJP6bbwr9ONwZ6VOKfUDacJ7BpiBXRISARApm-Vl9b15pUaRBY8Sl3KRjZDxMhD9QnoityyPqW2NO5DtWx6_/s640/20110725-_DSC3960.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The countryside opening up - still grey clouds.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzsMXB4eYRpxn4X3jztXCcEjXwt8FQ2qEr8x6wtPVs467D9uQgMcXiEwy_fg3MUG91iHMK_qPDnyFh7xT6xH97udRcMttOYJNFHnQEFYOb_ouonZLGLn9cUDHCfm62k7EoIxuwKyfttIQ/s1600/20110725-_DSC3963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzsMXB4eYRpxn4X3jztXCcEjXwt8FQ2qEr8x6wtPVs467D9uQgMcXiEwy_fg3MUG91iHMK_qPDnyFh7xT6xH97udRcMttOYJNFHnQEFYOb_ouonZLGLn9cUDHCfm62k7EoIxuwKyfttIQ/s640/20110725-_DSC3963.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Riverside picnic.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jwJllhXk5yyy-scEqs6DSDlm6no8wf_EzDSvD-06vlD_mCQ66FiD72QpqYwzx3r3wa0lF1SF9jQ7TYxCqMxV4UkVA-csuzJqgdH-x2qOwPnQARd4bXQ_3QSgOJ6z24SiAEd5Gi9hjSdJ/s1600/20110726-_DSC3970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jwJllhXk5yyy-scEqs6DSDlm6no8wf_EzDSvD-06vlD_mCQ66FiD72QpqYwzx3r3wa0lF1SF9jQ7TYxCqMxV4UkVA-csuzJqgdH-x2qOwPnQARd4bXQ_3QSgOJ6z24SiAEd5Gi9hjSdJ/s640/20110726-_DSC3970.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Super strong touring bike stands outside a supermarket.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Awoken by a musical chorus of church bells that continued for at least 20 minutes, Tuesday dawned a lovely sunny day. After Ehingen we took a detour off the main Danube trail to the town of Blaubeuren and the source of the Blau river. Blau means blue in German and the Blautopf, the spring where the river emerges, is an amazing turquoise. Next to the spring, situated at the head of the valley in what must have been an extremely tranquil setting, especially when it was founded in the 1100's, was a Benedictine Abbey, it's huge church dating from the 1400's.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">The valley was quite narrow, cycling on the flat among the fields was warm in the sun but at the base of the cliffs, a refreshingly cool moist breeze seeped down from the forested slopes. Among the cliffs are caves where stone age remains have been found. From there we then cycled through busy Ulm and continued downriver to Riedheim near Gunzburg.</span></div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Blaubeuren, peaceful break inside the monastery grounds.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Swan on the Blau.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTr8TmQ9cMjHexck96ON18MjlacCeQ29Lmy-_-scchwypB0sKF7amzF6JADCWDDLnUbTNfLcUP74otfCUTL4ToepcuXBzfICmVSHQzRF7R9Z8RfkDd7CjGU9Lha0u-SHHrNu_oriL9LF4w/s1600/20110726-_DSC3996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTr8TmQ9cMjHexck96ON18MjlacCeQ29Lmy-_-scchwypB0sKF7amzF6JADCWDDLnUbTNfLcUP74otfCUTL4ToepcuXBzfICmVSHQzRF7R9Z8RfkDd7CjGU9Lha0u-SHHrNu_oriL9LF4w/s640/20110726-_DSC3996.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Blautopf - the source of the Blau river.</i></span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Wednesday was another warm and sunny day but after battling with headwinds for a couple of hours in the afternoon, we decided to treat ourselves to a hotel stay in Donauworth – our first bed<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in four weeks! Donauworth is another pretty town and we stayed in the Post Hotel Traube near the centre of town and the cycle route. We also treated ourselves to a restaurant meal in the hotel biergarten – they had a special menu of pfifferling (chanterelle mushroom) dishes that day. They must be popping up in abundance after all the rain because we are seeing them everywhere in the shops at the moment.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">After a rather hilly, hot and humid Thursday morning we were treated to a massive lunchtime thunderstorm. Luckily we missed the hail but we saw drifts of it by the roadside a bit later. After the storm we were cycling through forest where the trees and the path were shrouded in mist as the rain evaporated. Forests here are quite dark and dense, not so light and airy as the forests we know so well in France, so cycling through the mists really added a fairytale dimension to our travels.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The Danube, getting wider, twin nuclear reactors around the bend.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Another cool town wall tower- Gundelfingen.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNpZEy85nxpgdH6w5G9unWpDs1xuQRSeNSp0q1Iiej4pQK1lTSn9eOQT2xMyHfTh_mEO4V-60mlQLK4vZslv3RFT_mHWRYr9jE9yomKTGCngfYLa6RA9OaghcrClWdMa8zs2knQ9KNKmr/s1600/20110727-_DSC4023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNpZEy85nxpgdH6w5G9unWpDs1xuQRSeNSp0q1Iiej4pQK1lTSn9eOQT2xMyHfTh_mEO4V-60mlQLK4vZslv3RFT_mHWRYr9jE9yomKTGCngfYLa6RA9OaghcrClWdMa8zs2knQ9KNKmr/s640/20110727-_DSC4023.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Roman temple ruins on north side of Danube near Lauingen.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLq-tM99OsZ6a6zVB2gghzgCXmMLG8uGzOfd96pyixMliJifv2IIKCXybGnhAj5_M9M1H6t_L8B83Umb0Rk4MXRfKCSINAwGDPeWA-JqEWGIyg7-U7V5sCH9MCfjQnp_QcjujoZXboXbNo/s1600/20110727-_DSC4025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLq-tM99OsZ6a6zVB2gghzgCXmMLG8uGzOfd96pyixMliJifv2IIKCXybGnhAj5_M9M1H6t_L8B83Umb0Rk4MXRfKCSINAwGDPeWA-JqEWGIyg7-U7V5sCH9MCfjQnp_QcjujoZXboXbNo/s640/20110727-_DSC4025.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>That's how many kilometres to go to the mouth of the Danube.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Friday we enjoyed a day off in Ingolstadt. Ingolstadt was the easiest city to get around so far, with a great network of bicycle paths. Germany as a whole seems extremely well serviced by bicycle lanes on roads, bicycle parking outside shops and public buildings and thousands of kilometres of well sign-posted bicyle routes criss-crossing the countryside. Even vending machines that sell bicycle tyre tubes in case you have a puncture. Actually there are vending machines for all sorts of things even in the smallest villages from cigarettes (!) to chocolate.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Switzerland and Germany have really pulled out the stops and showed us what a joy a summer storm can be. Unfortunately our day exploring Ingolstadt was cut short by another huge thunderstorm and downpour that lasted nearly all afternoon. We got to see a (huge) bike shop, an outdoor shop and an Aldi supermarket before getting drenched and retreating to our tent once more. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Saturday dawned cloudy and humid and we had a rain-free morning as we rode from Ingolstadt to the Monastery of Weltenburg where we caught a boat down river for six kilometres through the tall limestone cliffs of the Danube Gorge to Kelheim. Past Kelheim the river becomes navigable for barges and we started to see more working boats. </span></div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hops vines, Barvaria.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Danube Gorge at Weltenburg.</i></span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Just out of Kelheim the rain started and continued steadily all afternoon as we cycled along by the river to Regensburg. Much of the afternoon was spent on dirt paths so we had another session of cleaning muck off everything that night.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">From Regensburg the Danube turns south east, heading for the Austrain border at Passau. Sunday's ride from Regensburg to Daggendorf was almost rain free, much of the day was spent riding along levee banks covered in wild flowers overlooking the Danube. We passed the huge Worth castle, Walhalla (a replica of the Parthenon), as well as numerous spectacular ruins and churches nestled<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in the hills of the Bayrischer Wald along the northeastern bank of the Danube. For once though, most of the rain was after we set up camp.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: small;">Regensburg.</span></em><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: small;">Near Worth.</span></em></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: small;">Everything a growing child needs...</span></em><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: small;">Near Deggendorf.</span></em><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6sFvyQQVGhT3eobBruINtheAvHQOFTckMORer_Yw7XGg5Fi-Q2scLnwO8U82b-IPoj4JTPeHZ6Ep3w8j0DnJatWSxpXdslIKXpeoNjrkT3wO-U1Xo8k3LuOYIThv8Ig_1fiJ5uKJGdaVE/s1600/20110801-_DSC4108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6sFvyQQVGhT3eobBruINtheAvHQOFTckMORer_Yw7XGg5Fi-Q2scLnwO8U82b-IPoj4JTPeHZ6Ep3w8j0DnJatWSxpXdslIKXpeoNjrkT3wO-U1Xo8k3LuOYIThv8Ig_1fiJ5uKJGdaVE/s640/20110801-_DSC4108.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: small;">Vilshofen.</span></em></td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">And now we are in Passau, relaxing by the bank of the river Ilz, just before it meets the Danube and the Inn rivers and enlarges the Danube even further. Monday we had a rain free day and even saw the sun again on our pleasant day's progress from Deggendorf. We have covered 2700km since Dublin – pretty much halfway to Istanbul !</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">In the last few days we have seen more and more cyclists of all ages, going in both directions. Last night we were camped near an older French couple, a middle aged New Zealand couple, a middle aged German couple and two young families from Yorkshire. There was also a large group of canoeists and many other cyclists – 37 tents of all different size, shape and colour. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Yesterday (Tuesday) we spent the day wandering around Passau, up and down the cobbled lanes, looking at the interesting old buildings, checking out the bakeries and finishing a couple of sagas. I have a new pillow, a new Brooks saddle (Neil is happy – he has been nagging me to get one since Dublin) and the weather was lovely and warm. Didn't quite get the blog post organised<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>though – I uploaded the photos but messed up the word file and couldn't get it to work at the internet cafe.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">Our German has improved muchly from being able to say “yes”, “no”, “hello” and “goodbye” to “excuse me, where is the campground?”, “we would like to stay here for two nights” and “we will share the dessert”. Unfortunately we can rarely understand the replies, but we're working on it...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">*</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-IE">words - Gabby, images - mostly Neil</span></div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-81237189399529252092011-07-21T19:32:00.001+02:002011-07-21T22:02:22.151+02:00Neutral Territory<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Cycling in the rain</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">along rough and muddy trails -</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">the green Rhine below.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">We think the Swiss have discovered a way to remove sunshine from peoples lives. We entered Switzerland at Basel, in sunshine and by the time we left Stein am Rhein for Germany in the rain, it felt like we'd been under a cloud for four days. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Coming from France, where<i> everyone </i><span style="font-style: normal;">says 'bon jour' to you, to being in a country where people will look at your bikes as you ride past but are determined not to look at you, let alone nod, smile or say 'hello' was very disconcerting. But it wasn't all that bad – we cycled through some lovely countryside and we did encounter four friendly local people.</span></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">On Saturday morning we left Mulhouse, France for Basel, Switzerland, riding mostly along the last section of the canal du Rhone au Rhin, to where it meets up with the Rhine river. The lovely sunny path ran along above the canal, flanked by masses of yellow and white wildflowers. We arrived in Basel at lunchtime, the pedestrian friendly centre of town teeming with people. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjitrEx1RD92bT_yuenWqYV0cGd6Drw62MG8buSGanDqAabVegWw8LtGM8JS8GOB5YiMuCdiXSH_S75GpDZ5CYVD4b-GK8MbldODGUZsfPPr9euSkmkDXQ32dDjxl8nDSJ2eR0gjk-ewC0w/s1600/20110716-_DSC3716.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjitrEx1RD92bT_yuenWqYV0cGd6Drw62MG8buSGanDqAabVegWw8LtGM8JS8GOB5YiMuCdiXSH_S75GpDZ5CYVD4b-GK8MbldODGUZsfPPr9euSkmkDXQ32dDjxl8nDSJ2eR0gjk-ewC0w/s640/20110716-_DSC3716.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Basel and the Rhine river.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Here we discovered that our French was useless (unless talking to French tourists) and that we had better hurry up and learn some German. Though many people do speak some English, we find it is much better to break the ice by trying to speak the local language – then you all have something to laugh about. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Having obtained directions to a bookshop with a decent English language department (Bider & Tanner, Aeschenvorstadt if anyone needs to know), we then stocked up on a few novels (only four – which won't last long – we are really regretting not getting Kindles before we left Dublin) and a Swiss velo map. Tried some local pastries – very nice, then headed out of town on the velo route. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Thought we were doing well through the labrynthine pathways until we came upon a sign pointing, in the direction we were heading, to Basel 4km (after having travelled 16km away from Basel). Whilst trying to work out where to go on our (very vague) map, we were rescued by a fellow cyclist, whose name unfortunately we did not get. A local, out for a Saturday afternoon ride, she lead us several kilometres through the outskirts of Basel to a place where we could easily follow the route. With her husband, she had ridden the velo route from Basel to the Black Sea last year and sympathised with lost cycle tourists. Getting in and out of cities is always the hard part.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlM3vTMsAuktgG-BN1snFwwzTaX1zY7ac8NwSCyQ9u2pmFv3z56btrZ76UXAoiwJcbUMJ64OZBBRaa2F0wWKrOF8OwXWoY93dZ16TVfLYVz7DM5-ovOWKHfNV2a9j72tZMyQmShlHAiFny/s1600/20110716-_DSC3719.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlM3vTMsAuktgG-BN1snFwwzTaX1zY7ac8NwSCyQ9u2pmFv3z56btrZ76UXAoiwJcbUMJ64OZBBRaa2F0wWKrOF8OwXWoY93dZ16TVfLYVz7DM5-ovOWKHfNV2a9j72tZMyQmShlHAiFny/s640/20110716-_DSC3719.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Our tiny spot in the very busy Kaiseraugst campingplatz. </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"></div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">We stayed that night in Kaiseraugst, near where the Roman garrison town of Augusta Raurica used to be located, in a very busy caravan park right on the bank of the Rhine river. A fierce storm awoke us before 6 the next morning with wild winds and heavy rain. The winds abated but the rain did not, so we had another soaking cycle on Sunday (how's that for alliteration, Lisha?). We passed through some lovely countryside, pastoral and forested, stopping at a Waldhaus (forest house) to cook ourselves a hot lunch and dry out for a bit. When we saw the river Rhine again later in the day we were amazed at it's colour – a vivid jade green, and very fast flowing.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ZnKkWq6kImR1XO8LJ64o0U1Z60YCqo3Tn3f37n__omj66HqwXhNm3C6lj7LVODlqHwHsLD9QEtnXACqPjqrOPE04i7vkP8hwIeZd388MMrHfn2wfgOsWjDarbjcXhKN9IUgvUyLQ-T28/s1600/20110717-_DSC3726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ZnKkWq6kImR1XO8LJ64o0U1Z60YCqo3Tn3f37n__omj66HqwXhNm3C6lj7LVODlqHwHsLD9QEtnXACqPjqrOPE04i7vkP8hwIeZd388MMrHfn2wfgOsWjDarbjcXhKN9IUgvUyLQ-T28/s640/20110717-_DSC3726.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Waldhaus, between Rheinfelden and Bad Sackingen.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">I had thought to try the natural thermal mineral baths at Bad Zurzach, but by the time we arrived there I had really had enough of a soaking. The campground was the most expensive yet – 25 Swiss Francs (about €23) but we got our money's worth in their very nicely appointed hot showers. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;">From Bad Zurzach we headed over the Rhine and the border to Germany for the morning, sun and rain alternating throughout the day. The German cycle paths are extremely well sign posted, it was a very nice change from the haphazard signage in both Switzerland and France. We crossed back and forth between Switzerland and Germany, north of the Rhine, all afternoon, passing Kaiserstuhl, a lovely looking village, the southern end of the Schwartzwald, apple and walnut orchards, occasional fields of wheat and sunflowers as well as plenty of south facing grape vines (taller than the Burgundian ones and not as ferociously trimmed). </span></div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPaFHjuVrmGkJcdA7o7KjNwfrma6qo9Be2GBH63z2P0pMry-UE48dahRiuqvlG1TFB5IEW1MIoMj8t2jgWP9uFA2HXphgzZlVJNc6Ksg4G9-SGVQCWeDu1L4F6NzWDUSrBC9jzCCszS8es/s1600/20110718-_DSC3763.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPaFHjuVrmGkJcdA7o7KjNwfrma6qo9Be2GBH63z2P0pMry-UE48dahRiuqvlG1TFB5IEW1MIoMj8t2jgWP9uFA2HXphgzZlVJNc6Ksg4G9-SGVQCWeDu1L4F6NzWDUSrBC9jzCCszS8es/s640/20110718-_DSC3763.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Not sure if this was Germany or Switzerland - it's raining, so probably Switzerland.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span> </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Along the river we passed the Rhinefall where the river drops 20m just near the town of Schaffhausen, then on to the village of Stein am Rhein, with it's very well preserved medieval town centre, just before Lake Constance. We didn't go to Lake Constance, but we did spend an extra day in Stein am Rhein having a bit of a look around – and a break from touring because we'd been on the go for five days.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzKqzR7ZVAhngFJKMGjn6Zo-QCJJIY-eOdvwmgYEmJaK05VBvKKSoNjsEizxjVzAZIesBinb8nyUZL8ov2SpftiITA28rD81HiotYa5tqzz_D4cMbSc8skBTcjYXI13sYxnbFU5QFi-6WD/s1600/20110718-_DSC3787.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzKqzR7ZVAhngFJKMGjn6Zo-QCJJIY-eOdvwmgYEmJaK05VBvKKSoNjsEizxjVzAZIesBinb8nyUZL8ov2SpftiITA28rD81HiotYa5tqzz_D4cMbSc8skBTcjYXI13sYxnbFU5QFi-6WD/s640/20110718-_DSC3787.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Rheinfall, with Schaffhausen in the background.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">The sun came out for the couple of pleasant hours that we spent strolling around Stein am Rhein, having lunch on a picnic bench overlooking the busy river. Then it rained again in the afternoon. And the next day when we left for Donaueshingen in Germany.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQc1V7HjmZgRnIrbuH65XQqCVebX1jLZri_NnwC8p7UnUWKqYvFZuEZONkzolbTmh2OvKaQJi29NcApTMZghcZpwz55z0ZpXUrYTEeWIzNukdXW1d4l4NBXL9NERPzrLPm_9U28cm3MJiZ/s1600/20110719-_DSC3810.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQc1V7HjmZgRnIrbuH65XQqCVebX1jLZri_NnwC8p7UnUWKqYvFZuEZONkzolbTmh2OvKaQJi29NcApTMZghcZpwz55z0ZpXUrYTEeWIzNukdXW1d4l4NBXL9NERPzrLPm_9U28cm3MJiZ/s640/20110719-_DSC3810.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Wonky house, Stein am Rhein.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgfZ-DMFAJPRzNCxvPje06xwXSRpsi8faV2rEmOU81gZDVtIrTR5bLSFcqUNZYrK58w2ovNVwlsVg5DMJgxEDkGE0JbJELfQbVs6I-IZY5gkfD491FncA1uk3EdC4xMU7dpCjG3AW6_J88/s1600/20110719-_DSC3813.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgfZ-DMFAJPRzNCxvPje06xwXSRpsi8faV2rEmOU81gZDVtIrTR5bLSFcqUNZYrK58w2ovNVwlsVg5DMJgxEDkGE0JbJELfQbVs6I-IZY5gkfD491FncA1uk3EdC4xMU7dpCjG3AW6_J88/s640/20110719-_DSC3813.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Stein am Rhein, muralled walls.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQUWqktE17GECM1y7ZLO0Q-B_pOdYwCvQl8mxX9OOp9dy-hhXmGCzf_H_0Bg5U78KZ9AtbM4vD9eZleIdluGsxspLT5mV9vuXarW1A-ufPlVtI2kU0mqG2itAYSlah3WVMU4H8emtFxD5/s1600/20110719-_DSC3814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQUWqktE17GECM1y7ZLO0Q-B_pOdYwCvQl8mxX9OOp9dy-hhXmGCzf_H_0Bg5U78KZ9AtbM4vD9eZleIdluGsxspLT5mV9vuXarW1A-ufPlVtI2kU0mqG2itAYSlah3WVMU4H8emtFxD5/s640/20110719-_DSC3814.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Mural detail, Stein am Rhein</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpf4AR-9gYk7XPxvCdzPY6C1UF4e0aWMDuVffMkKZfMKn_npl1eX7_vuc7rnjr0by1TqH736NjRPh2L4fXvXVCnACXIaEXLkFw2CXQUvZoUM5z432x5r0IeSd-Ztt7em-K6EyuYDGcYjaf/s1600/20110719-_DSC3821.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpf4AR-9gYk7XPxvCdzPY6C1UF4e0aWMDuVffMkKZfMKn_npl1eX7_vuc7rnjr0by1TqH736NjRPh2L4fXvXVCnACXIaEXLkFw2CXQUvZoUM5z432x5r0IeSd-Ztt7em-K6EyuYDGcYjaf/s640/20110719-_DSC3821.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Stein am Rhein rathausplatz.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_6fcftALkOODUK9fHWo6n3gN9d6BAeYweztEfFgHAeEI-yt4WIYy9fWmK_Z5nVGIkIfEybLAJhWQ7ZGzXX-_6vsqcPch3olB099U_1MCh116Cev16VHc1UEyGgbxEDayTlxUAexvaKJl/s1600/20110719-_DSC3829.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_6fcftALkOODUK9fHWo6n3gN9d6BAeYweztEfFgHAeEI-yt4WIYy9fWmK_Z5nVGIkIfEybLAJhWQ7ZGzXX-_6vsqcPch3olB099U_1MCh116Cev16VHc1UEyGgbxEDayTlxUAexvaKJl/s640/20110719-_DSC3829.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Neil and a modern wall mural, Stein am Rhein.</i></span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Yesterday's ride to Donaueschingen was a very long, wet, tiring, windy and hilly 70km. But it still beats working as a wage slave. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Unfortunately 20km from Donaueschingen, Neil's back wheel developed a funny noise and when we stopped to check it out, discovered that the rim of his back wheel had cracked. It had cracked and bulged out, the noise we heard was it hitting the brake pad on every revolution. Not good. So the wheel would turn freely he had to disconnect the back brake and he cycled the last 20km going carefully, avoiding bumps as much as possible. </div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIEymIzAAajq6Ltt0Z_Mswh_0oKGmUUCDaG1S2B9gbzoXnncGZ9ck1QMqW-E809HonPSkM8VutGcAVI01iskkaj5q85FamIqhqFmQsB1kviVB5kl0UssNEWP_YnCBFTR25632fVFMjA9YQ/s1600/20110720-_DSC3832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIEymIzAAajq6Ltt0Z_Mswh_0oKGmUUCDaG1S2B9gbzoXnncGZ9ck1QMqW-E809HonPSkM8VutGcAVI01iskkaj5q85FamIqhqFmQsB1kviVB5kl0UssNEWP_YnCBFTR25632fVFMjA9YQ/s640/20110720-_DSC3832.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Lunch break after the first and the worst of the many hills.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirp8DV1UAIzMxJPLTIK1nhlDcVBIfN823W6Qh6isCB9Mx6tVZLpgz0OE4DYHMEQdSdYrnRIbLGZUkEQxCSxvMOBG9TCNtQkiNfskvmHowEuAex7LJiBoz8Ewc8vkGLC60OS6slMoyU5Y_O/s1600/20110720-_DSC3835.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirp8DV1UAIzMxJPLTIK1nhlDcVBIfN823W6Qh6isCB9Mx6tVZLpgz0OE4DYHMEQdSdYrnRIbLGZUkEQxCSxvMOBG9TCNtQkiNfskvmHowEuAex7LJiBoz8Ewc8vkGLC60OS6slMoyU5Y_O/s640/20110720-_DSC3835.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Not something you really want to see - Neil's bike, again.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">So, today we are in Donaueschingen still, resting our legs after yesterday's epic, having had Neil's bike fixed this morning (and we thought we might as well put mine in for a quick service while we were there). We picked up a few bits and pieces for the bikes (extra brake pads, chain oil etc) and light and airy new helmets – our old ones bought in Dublin were a bit hot and heavy on the warmer days. After only one day in the country we are finding the German people much friendlier than the Swiss. And most things much cheaper.</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhesGs7HKQKLMPq0iXOk8NFGDMr9O2y9z6EnxMn8HTVDXuoAroAQT5wUGNQ9zCGkFw8R7VGt_cVxaLbtxwUT9gU1cow-LBBcNErg9RMZGgLV8Mz3_dhvdjwAiNPh8i8ZvTrfM8-GqhXWPSh/s1600/20110721-_DSC3842.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhesGs7HKQKLMPq0iXOk8NFGDMr9O2y9z6EnxMn8HTVDXuoAroAQT5wUGNQ9zCGkFw8R7VGt_cVxaLbtxwUT9gU1cow-LBBcNErg9RMZGgLV8Mz3_dhvdjwAiNPh8i8ZvTrfM8-GqhXWPSh/s640/20110721-_DSC3842.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The source of the Danube, as recognised by Tiberius in 15AD.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwi9ZJA1vcWon3MXwI0AhAWilBo73v021Svb0WQLRozgFA-Ofzbg7g3wCzCwFeBY5E8Eja_xGO8PlcgE1RqINl92VdQjUE01X0WYpYMOxmgqB755R0NIU_mHyOz9cgcKVO4nBok-6wcdfM/s1600/20110721-_DSC3844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwi9ZJA1vcWon3MXwI0AhAWilBo73v021Svb0WQLRozgFA-Ofzbg7g3wCzCwFeBY5E8Eja_xGO8PlcgE1RqINl92VdQjUE01X0WYpYMOxmgqB755R0NIU_mHyOz9cgcKVO4nBok-6wcdfM/s640/20110721-_DSC3844.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Statue at the source - Mother Baar pointing the young maiden Danube to the east.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQIQBT2O6pfzJ1ADpzf3kdl_vlfVUe5pGLQ3hwhllgdi-U3TvgvYnilcK7t9w1-9iuSwwgOAG0l_A6ZqxfJ8BV-L47QqqR2CghXXwJUOMv-VXCt3etOu0rQ2x1YOERYe33a3BrXsPBB7Db/s1600/20110721-_DSC3853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQIQBT2O6pfzJ1ADpzf3kdl_vlfVUe5pGLQ3hwhllgdi-U3TvgvYnilcK7t9w1-9iuSwwgOAG0l_A6ZqxfJ8BV-L47QqqR2CghXXwJUOMv-VXCt3etOu0rQ2x1YOERYe33a3BrXsPBB7Db/s640/20110721-_DSC3853.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Storks storking their prey...(sorry Neil made me do it).</i></span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">We made our obligatory visit to see the official source of the Donau (Danube) river – the Donauquelle – since we will be following the river down it's 2800 odd kilometre length to the Black Sea. Tomorrow, we start on the Danube leg of our journey...</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">* </div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-34914960800058187262011-07-15T18:11:00.000+02:002011-07-15T18:11:39.242+02:00French Revolutions<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Mid stream, heron waits,</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">grey and white, tall and graceful -</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">flies with raucous squawk.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Since arriving in France at the end of March, we have cycled through seven regions and many departments – Manche, Calvados, Eure, Yvelines, Yonne, Essone, Seine-et-Marne (where we stayed for two months) and now, Loiret, Nievre, Allier, Saone-et-Loire, Cote-d'Or, Jura, Doubs, Territoire-de-Belfort and Haut-Rhin. Less than 50km before we leave France for Switzerland, we have cycled 1804km from Dublin.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">In the last week we have come from the relatively flat centre of the country, where wheat and sunflower fields predominate, through the rows and rows of green vines of the Cote-d'Or vineyards nestled between limestone ridges, to riding along the Doubs river with the Jurassic hills pressing closer and closer, mineworks and dairy cattle occasionally visible.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Since arriving in Santenay like two drowned rats last Thursday, we stayed there Friday as well, spending the sunny day drying out our gear, cleaning the muck off our bikes and having a bit of a look around. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4795gqg1B4lu-_U_82qTFdEUgGwnEEqyXaM5Jx7RBIH0IbRfZPadHOMc9n7g-7B67wHEUYvpSnKKfcaa_qx8Tpdk_xIk226G-fOru6xH8d_Ui4LhF1c94Ym7JRE7X4CL3RtGmIONQzvm/s1600/20110707-_DSC3602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4795gqg1B4lu-_U_82qTFdEUgGwnEEqyXaM5Jx7RBIH0IbRfZPadHOMc9n7g-7B67wHEUYvpSnKKfcaa_qx8Tpdk_xIk226G-fOru6xH8d_Ui4LhF1c94Ym7JRE7X4CL3RtGmIONQzvm/s640/20110707-_DSC3602.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>An empty shed just for wet cyclists!</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlv5mBFqq5rd6LSTYUXjJLWP_dxYlurp1I_fLN_zpxwi0LBboAatUy-Ki7EhzuFDrD3t9LbP60NugC-JjrDwzRepHCFA4qtureJTPRqh9QYmCz0qo228BeRHhYeLyk8m84AcmT5ecmTXw/s1600/20110707-_DSC3617.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlv5mBFqq5rd6LSTYUXjJLWP_dxYlurp1I_fLN_zpxwi0LBboAatUy-Ki7EhzuFDrD3t9LbP60NugC-JjrDwzRepHCFA4qtureJTPRqh9QYmCz0qo228BeRHhYeLyk8m84AcmT5ecmTXw/s640/20110707-_DSC3617.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Nothing like a bowl of pasta to warm you up after a soaking ride.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9wlwlTlgDIaLoFDENYCLNpVP7Nz5XtpWnlfAMk7mhrkshbUDmkBzXRtdHaAzy6B8TNO9j6Gj-I94CPiAWNrXQljROqnOcW5REq89YG6ilf1Ouo17bnTJWEbqYdOCmN5kNMNbUOZjy9WI/s1600/20110707-_DSC3622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9wlwlTlgDIaLoFDENYCLNpVP7Nz5XtpWnlfAMk7mhrkshbUDmkBzXRtdHaAzy6B8TNO9j6Gj-I94CPiAWNrXQljROqnOcW5REq89YG6ilf1Ouo17bnTJWEbqYdOCmN5kNMNbUOZjy9WI/s640/20110707-_DSC3622.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Morning mist lifting, Santenay.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWLP3H7Ai54WDvhG3jUsBAcFdvgmEh4AiSwpfVZl41mOpkqlXeNW_VXPy0GxrQci85MyNeX3GGGw_13N2Dq13keG1CifEInRLRJ4S1DRHtzGY8MjsDE6BMj00Hb1bBEXGkquWvEpQTzQM/s1600/20110708-_DSC3626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWLP3H7Ai54WDvhG3jUsBAcFdvgmEh4AiSwpfVZl41mOpkqlXeNW_VXPy0GxrQci85MyNeX3GGGw_13N2Dq13keG1CifEInRLRJ4S1DRHtzGY8MjsDE6BMj00Hb1bBEXGkquWvEpQTzQM/s640/20110708-_DSC3626.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Home-made coffee filter - a recycled quiche pan.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKi87qOUussXImGuZ3Cvu8yLgO4PrVfPDkm4I8PW5Cg-X82xrCmPjWzEiY5XkPRgK002KnpQ81I6iZGeKyzJbEw6qKfDgR6BaCcLcQvD81BSlttcN_3vpPrWpMKZZI6g_h3XuL3j7U9Il/s1600/20110708-_DSC3627.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHKi87qOUussXImGuZ3Cvu8yLgO4PrVfPDkm4I8PW5Cg-X82xrCmPjWzEiY5XkPRgK002KnpQ81I6iZGeKyzJbEw6qKfDgR6BaCcLcQvD81BSlttcN_3vpPrWpMKZZI6g_h3XuL3j7U9Il/s640/20110708-_DSC3627.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Drying out the gear, Santenay.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Santenay village is home to approximately 30 vignerons, all of whom have their own cellar door tastings and sales. The most impressive was the Chateau de Santenay, a thirteenth century limestone (along the hillsides are limestone cliffs - there is climbing here as well) building with towers and a moat, roofed with coloured tiles arranged in a knot pattern. We are seeing more and more of this sort of roof on important buildings like churches, chateaux and hotels de ville as we head further east.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4ZYGvC4pBmdf6JRShgmxQ1CYVAYPRyS4SVyiWQnMg4PQwZGuFVT27zzhbMu0ZqdIkksMgIBpwRi7WaoD85dzU3Fh5QmuO0kpaXJfK4B99sX3hldPUtC3Ze2wz5u1tJHv1-leushTyaf7/s1600/20110708-_DSC3635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4ZYGvC4pBmdf6JRShgmxQ1CYVAYPRyS4SVyiWQnMg4PQwZGuFVT27zzhbMu0ZqdIkksMgIBpwRi7WaoD85dzU3Fh5QmuO0kpaXJfK4B99sX3hldPUtC3Ze2wz5u1tJHv1-leushTyaf7/s640/20110708-_DSC3635.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Santenay Chateau.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Unfortunately there was no point in us visiting any of the cellars because we could neither afford the wines nor fit any bottles in our panniers. In Santenay we met a couple of Scottish climbers, Iain and Shirley, who told us, among other things, that last Tuesday, the day we cycled 94km, had been 39 degrees all day – we'd thought it was hot, but not that hot!</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">From Santenay we took a side route off the main Euro Velo 6 and followed the 'Route des Vignes' through the vineyards of the Cotes du Beaune to the town of Beaune. Surrounded by stone walls and entered through ornate stone and wrought iron gates, the vineyards filled the valley around pale stone villages, giving it a timeless air – things really didn't look like they had changed much since Roman times. Well, except for the really cool mini tractors that chugged along astride each row of vines, trimming the tops, looking more like a rough draft of Dr Octopus from Spiderman than anything else.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRBfloVq5z6KmV9sLplS6Z1PyTIPJTh-EzVWcF1rwV1HDaGTxdee4aQZZdmp5c5ify-p2CKn_UMI7EoGR4VorCZywLugA7ncMTK-19VLIXZJqpXltc6c6tvjtXqja5Bt9Zm3e16SN7gqE/s1600/20110709-_DSC3638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRBfloVq5z6KmV9sLplS6Z1PyTIPJTh-EzVWcF1rwV1HDaGTxdee4aQZZdmp5c5ify-p2CKn_UMI7EoGR4VorCZywLugA7ncMTK-19VLIXZJqpXltc6c6tvjtXqja5Bt9Zm3e16SN7gqE/s640/20110709-_DSC3638.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Route des Vignes, Cotes du Beaune.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS0t_y31e_tau74KaphNBNlZWf1L9N61juV7rrHhdsXj6eoobJXa_S4zgTBKtuTxONcvtltmxXzKxT7-Dy9ES-2nuwz0H2n1uifMDa-L1b7KAcg5Juvn9Ob4nXPqS-RDdidO_jPkLT03Hm/s1600/20110709-_DSC3641.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS0t_y31e_tau74KaphNBNlZWf1L9N61juV7rrHhdsXj6eoobJXa_S4zgTBKtuTxONcvtltmxXzKxT7-Dy9ES-2nuwz0H2n1uifMDa-L1b7KAcg5Juvn9Ob4nXPqS-RDdidO_jPkLT03Hm/s640/20110709-_DSC3641.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Rest area, French style.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The 'Route des Vignes' is much patronised and there were plenty of shaded rest areas and even a map showing which villages to go for a boulangerie. Unfortunately the route stopped abruptly in the centre of Beaune and we had fun trying to find bicycle friendly roads out to the countryside. We ended up having to get off and push along the footpath, the busy one way streets too confusing. After Beaune we ended up on the wrong road, the D20 instead of the D20F, eventually finding it without the help of our map, which had neither the D20A, D20G or D20H marked on it either.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Naturally it started to rain about then, so we meandered on toward the vines of the Cotes du Nuits-St-Georges then decided to call it a day in Primeaux-Prissey. The rain continued through Sunday morning as we made our way out of the hills of Burgundy, through the forest around Citeaux Abbey, to join the Euro Velo trail again at the Saone river. And thence into Jura along the Canal du Rhone au Rhin. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">After lunch the rain cleared and by the time we came into Dole mid afternoon, the sun had emerged. Dole looks an interesting town, with it's old buildings of golden brown stone overlooking the entwined Doubs river and Rhone au Rhin canal - but we didn't stop to investigate.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCHUFdlRPIZ-hxhuSSpZchKgErVdw_XXYHE1XS-fJSy14PVUfNgH10HMrmQXpUVNcSN7PQzf6Jk-qBlN88RYY_d6rJIPkExv2MUXe6NvKGPoHexv6vtCuiK0oM9B4UvrU5-ejsByVhMvA/s1600/20110710-_DSC3647.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCHUFdlRPIZ-hxhuSSpZchKgErVdw_XXYHE1XS-fJSy14PVUfNgH10HMrmQXpUVNcSN7PQzf6Jk-qBlN88RYY_d6rJIPkExv2MUXe6NvKGPoHexv6vtCuiK0oM9B4UvrU5-ejsByVhMvA/s640/20110710-_DSC3647.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Campsite at Dole, overlooking the Doubs river.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Neil by the Rhone au Rhin canal.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNTFlAVE-78MC6pW72Rq3ySDca04gf7FN8uhVqNeT6cIBfqF-v021wHEAhqd1x5-WJwYKg4lK5j8Oh_TkJeRffy1wwikPk1eDBAS-9X5RIL6HCXGlBKDkxzdtvlx1qEpl1EtYW7ayJIA8Q/s1600/20110711-_DSC3653.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNTFlAVE-78MC6pW72Rq3ySDca04gf7FN8uhVqNeT6cIBfqF-v021wHEAhqd1x5-WJwYKg4lK5j8Oh_TkJeRffy1wwikPk1eDBAS-9X5RIL6HCXGlBKDkxzdtvlx1qEpl1EtYW7ayJIA8Q/s640/20110711-_DSC3653.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Rochefort-sur-Nenon.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz-zARJJwbP324RYB8UKDzbfLR63lU4bVUfB6xsHqCYTgIOtQpjVv8YQKL0d4TmM0L0QNsxru0aXLpIBNXACEshurvSpFHwq9TlezaM2u8AWwoWXfHK6_6rT5CDkz77tOecuhmJ6oad-9Z/s1600/20110711-_DSC3662.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz-zARJJwbP324RYB8UKDzbfLR63lU4bVUfB6xsHqCYTgIOtQpjVv8YQKL0d4TmM0L0QNsxru0aXLpIBNXACEshurvSpFHwq9TlezaM2u8AWwoWXfHK6_6rT5CDkz77tOecuhmJ6oad-9Z/s640/20110711-_DSC3662.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Gabby mixing with local wildlife.</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtjtdahcpbO1og3ySvFJ_3j_ZXoE7x6rfpceOdifMLBk38TtvxNwvxSjLnQn6zyOrfCFxRIEL5p-kRtxQ-QvYONfCKMw93hXAKcOrL3GZJe4rpUMsoC_DYg23l2BSqIBBh8kD5ug-S10q/s1600/20110711-_DSC3669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtjtdahcpbO1og3ySvFJ_3j_ZXoE7x6rfpceOdifMLBk38TtvxNwvxSjLnQn6zyOrfCFxRIEL5p-kRtxQ-QvYONfCKMw93hXAKcOrL3GZJe4rpUMsoC_DYg23l2BSqIBBh8kD5ug-S10q/s640/20110711-_DSC3669.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Heron by a barrage before Besancon.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKzgzFWzWrOGxslQKOcRIPwNmpJOlxzsgzviI1ooPBKe66sdqA4XsioVUdq58V1-7NFzYe_z95bJUNBaWUAA450WEOGs6Uv9EjyrzL3Gv7hARCjeiW8bu6KlnhTWam4lqe_DRCT1RaJ3o/s1600/20110711-_DSC3677.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKzgzFWzWrOGxslQKOcRIPwNmpJOlxzsgzviI1ooPBKe66sdqA4XsioVUdq58V1-7NFzYe_z95bJUNBaWUAA450WEOGs6Uv9EjyrzL3Gv7hARCjeiW8bu6KlnhTWam4lqe_DRCT1RaJ3o/s640/20110711-_DSC3677.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Hilly countryside coming into Besancon.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Instead we continued on, on Monday to Besancon where we stayed for three nights. One day of relaxation with a bit of washing and cleaning and one day of tourism and errands in town. Well, that was the plan anyway. To get to the campsite which is several kilometres northeast of the city, we followed the canal through a tunnel excavated in the bedrock of Besancon, under it's tall citadel.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Tuesday was our day for visitiing Besancon. Monday evening, after another hot and humid day, a huge electrical storm broke over the river valley. It rained heavily overnight then began to clear in the morning. Until we prepared to leave on the bikes.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Then the heavens opened again. We sheltered under a tree for a couple of minutes, hoping it would pass quickly, then moved into the tent. Three hours later we started getting a little cabin fever. Four hours later we made a break to the shop for food then hunkered down in the tent again. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">We never did make it into Besancon.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Thursday, the French National day, elsewhere called Bastille Day, dawned misty but without rain. Once the mist cleared we had patchy blue skies, a bit cooler than previous. It was a lovely day of cycling along the river Doubs with hills and cliffs rising steeply from the river. Only 65km to L'Isle-sur-le-Doubs, but it was the only campground between Besancon and Mulhouse. Firecrackers were being set off all over the place but we were fast asleep, lulled by the fast flowing Doubs, by the time of the evening fireworks.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fWHaxW_0zh6Qie_vRKVIS0wmbIB8UGG5XNlKduzTSYmtyC0GYrvLpxEfHVi5I3KAJbxdGoW8SEaIBWHGepiL2WqPml9HoTpNrR-wSMaT5K8Wdn1vdD3SBxaPJH0ak1LswyYvjrC3-1JI/s1600/20110714-_DSC3701.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fWHaxW_0zh6Qie_vRKVIS0wmbIB8UGG5XNlKduzTSYmtyC0GYrvLpxEfHVi5I3KAJbxdGoW8SEaIBWHGepiL2WqPml9HoTpNrR-wSMaT5K8Wdn1vdD3SBxaPJH0ak1LswyYvjrC3-1JI/s640/20110714-_DSC3701.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Peaceful stretch along Doubs river.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmBJ6NmFaTFiHPjzNDtGcPMfjEkpm3eFCoTwPEsvs6tDD3jmLCFvS7h9SuS2WS2TOLZLehxqO4bDwYAfdOb5YcfpY2sRp6Yj-GszhrlfChK8XwZxirgIE60BYPYs8ZlyJ69dtLMiYV5YPL/s1600/20110714-_DSC3702.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmBJ6NmFaTFiHPjzNDtGcPMfjEkpm3eFCoTwPEsvs6tDD3jmLCFvS7h9SuS2WS2TOLZLehxqO4bDwYAfdOb5YcfpY2sRp6Yj-GszhrlfChK8XwZxirgIE60BYPYs8ZlyJ69dtLMiYV5YPL/s640/20110714-_DSC3702.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Sharing the road.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Today again was cloudy and slightly cool after the mist cleared – perfect cycling weather. We followed the Doubs river again until Montbéliard where it turned south and we continued east on the Canal du Rhone au Rhin. As we cycled along today we saw many eagles gliding around in the thermals and even saw one eagle swoop to catch a fish right next to us. We have also had our first glimpse of the Jura mountains, blue in the distance. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitJeT7rjwJmq_YP33PpvZpoOtn1IkAAdz_AY5ycH3tZmW35hcfSr95P5VeHcrxY2IkQam39LTvNfTjq66bfoQO3Fc2q-EoeKhnGG0cRlGNNJt8_aeNJtKgGZUNwM1NZkY-A41By9m5D9fJ/s1600/20110715-_DSC3707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitJeT7rjwJmq_YP33PpvZpoOtn1IkAAdz_AY5ycH3tZmW35hcfSr95P5VeHcrxY2IkQam39LTvNfTjq66bfoQO3Fc2q-EoeKhnGG0cRlGNNJt8_aeNJtKgGZUNwM1NZkY-A41By9m5D9fJ/s640/20110715-_DSC3707.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Smooth downhill following a series of canal locks, mountains in the distance.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">During the day we picked up the name of Madame et Monsieur Australie from a French woman we were speaking with last night and this morning at the camp ground – we kept passing each other today on the cycle path. They are heading for the Black Sea as well so no doubt we'll see more of them in the future.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Tomorrow we'll actually be on the Rhine river. We are camped tonight in Mulhouse for our last night in France. Tomorrow – Basel and beyond.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">* </div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-86562693119160409552011-07-07T20:26:00.003+02:002011-07-07T20:28:34.168+02:00Back in the saddle<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Rippling and sparkling,</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">canal waters hide many fish -</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">eagle flies by, hoping.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">It came as a pleasant surprise to us that, after a two month hiatus from cycle touring, it wasn't as hard as it had been when we started our journey back in March. Totally unfit, when we left Dublin we were struggling to cover 40km each day but in the last 7 days of riding we have averaged roughly 60km per day. We even managed a very respectable 94km on Tuesday, a stinking hot day. And today, 83km in the pouring rain.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgggwXFunuVI0aSW2FLE0QfV_W7W1OkJBmemNQoBX5nWK4rJIZJW_9PJKvGKEawHb5N-rbQmkMT5M-82pKkZMDMPMG_OLi6tbvtcLH0xPLkmOZxb8BcFJApp2IxMi8u2Wqz0nwgFxGG30/s1600/20110630-_DSC3423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgggwXFunuVI0aSW2FLE0QfV_W7W1OkJBmemNQoBX5nWK4rJIZJW_9PJKvGKEawHb5N-rbQmkMT5M-82pKkZMDMPMG_OLi6tbvtcLH0xPLkmOZxb8BcFJApp2IxMi8u2Wqz0nwgFxGG30/s640/20110630-_DSC3423.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Leaving Noisy-sur-École on a beautiful summers morning.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">And slipping into our old routine has been just as easy. Though the warmer weather has wrought a few changes to our routine. It is much easier to get out of bed when there's no frost on the ground. We don't feel the need for a warm breakfast or a cup of tea before we start in the morning, which is a good thing because we need to head off earlier to get more ground covered before the heat of the afternoon (with long European summer days the hottest part of the day is between 3 and 7pm, the sun not setting until 10). </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4UyiktQrU0eRwdPqohP-N54lqJTvo6vzu2Yk8mVzGCVUb3Dl5CR834uMtexJ4htrGZkJ8HUzQI0r9GZ-L3gKhihTJ_I3iQttsVyOenBB-lN5UL6AxuAsu41al2YzaTmu4ipFgQz_JRW3z/s1600/20110705-_DSC3549.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4UyiktQrU0eRwdPqohP-N54lqJTvo6vzu2Yk8mVzGCVUb3Dl5CR834uMtexJ4htrGZkJ8HUzQI0r9GZ-L3gKhihTJ_I3iQttsVyOenBB-lN5UL6AxuAsu41al2YzaTmu4ipFgQz_JRW3z/s640/20110705-_DSC3549.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Good organisation is the key to any good campsite !</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGHV_0azPKq4nCKQoMuzXBmo-Xyp5Kue-MJk70q7A2nJULeIhjdd-bQvIaAXya_RHNpdhzzpymvR_krkOi7iWq_uHDkNVeLRHAWqgwEU8qpkOwKR5dw_9mZ6nGPWNubiOCRIH7Nwn-G5-n/s1600/20110705-_DSC3548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGHV_0azPKq4nCKQoMuzXBmo-Xyp5Kue-MJk70q7A2nJULeIhjdd-bQvIaAXya_RHNpdhzzpymvR_krkOi7iWq_uHDkNVeLRHAWqgwEU8qpkOwKR5dw_9mZ6nGPWNubiOCRIH7Nwn-G5-n/s640/20110705-_DSC3548.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The arrival icecream has become an integral part of our afternoon.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">We have seen some changes in landscape as we've headed south, but not a huge amount. The countryside is still undulating rather than flat or hilly. Sometimes we've followed the Loire river or the Loire canal quite closely on the flat, sometimes we've traversed across the hills above the river valley (though we're steering clear of too many big hills until we get a little stronger). We're seeing more sunflowers and corn, still plenty of wheat, which is currently being harvested and fields of mown hay, dotted with their big squat cylinders of bales.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWygesRMBKNGB5J6PnCt749HYp2LkFwJiHWTfBdgFRpdAUeIwBNfS7mfzGMmsgVJ9E4dYZPVMXTjepBkjxJgo6w8N2Qna2SeY80UXsHRhmrs8xITh-nfF25QR9iyBSgO_Cin61IlMYNel/s1600/20110630-_DSC3447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWygesRMBKNGB5J6PnCt749HYp2LkFwJiHWTfBdgFRpdAUeIwBNfS7mfzGMmsgVJ9E4dYZPVMXTjepBkjxJgo6w8N2Qna2SeY80UXsHRhmrs8xITh-nfF25QR9iyBSgO_Cin61IlMYNel/s640/20110630-_DSC3447.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Bellegarde Donjon, 1376.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz7eroUXt1t-I7bmfAxULGz3-RPuEh8aWTPNGriO1kFUNn4AocgqSMyr8LC4gDd6ECzldwYL37FsXAa8SkSI9K8QMhXZDatAuhsWrTGJwHNjxXT_URpcTbzHZiQS1K_AecmEi5YnlWIzzW/s1600/20110703-_DSC3507.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz7eroUXt1t-I7bmfAxULGz3-RPuEh8aWTPNGriO1kFUNn4AocgqSMyr8LC4gDd6ECzldwYL37FsXAa8SkSI9K8QMhXZDatAuhsWrTGJwHNjxXT_URpcTbzHZiQS1K_AecmEi5YnlWIzzW/s640/20110703-_DSC3507.jpg" width="427" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Sunflower field, Loire valley.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbFWCDjDHeG5FvRI8Q0QEENpVi4IY96BZXsahz-T21CKrsId4KQCfEPs9Xee091pJDSSGsJnE5TXLkA0K_7NnhxPwhibyPOj3Hh5GOdT6f_gcBksqixgk1HbgmE_Q82rDp582OO1Oe6ZCJ/s1600/20110703-_DSC3516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbFWCDjDHeG5FvRI8Q0QEENpVi4IY96BZXsahz-T21CKrsId4KQCfEPs9Xee091pJDSSGsJnE5TXLkA0K_7NnhxPwhibyPOj3Hh5GOdT6f_gcBksqixgk1HbgmE_Q82rDp582OO1Oe6ZCJ/s640/20110703-_DSC3516.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Riding amongst wild flowers, near the Loire River.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Not having seen cows since the west of Ile de France, the last couple of days we have seen more and more fields of white cows, often with calves. There were grape vines decking the hills around Sancerre and now we are coming into the southern vines of the Burgundy region. We took hardly any photos today though because bucketing rain and cameras don't mix well.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">After following the Loire for about 250km (from Gien to Digoin), we are now following the Canal du Centre to the river Saone (though we'll probably succumb to the lure of the grape and head up into Burgundy for a brief sojourn). There is an extensive network of canals throughout the country and nowadays they are used primarily by pleasure craft. Yesterday we even saw a houseboat flying the Australian flag going through a lock. The most bizarre thing though, is the way the canals cross rivers on bridges!</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicwzZbLSqQrJeF-XF9OgO9cMnBYkjWs-0dg-34KsnWm-r-sONG7e8B3y4FKgiKmf0N4FjkkA7pgN_USGc12JMMM9_DmvX0YOrEUkWu7gPc-sNHLtOUWurVLclqBfkVUZwIEHtIz7E5Xjk3/s1600/20110702-_DSC3486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicwzZbLSqQrJeF-XF9OgO9cMnBYkjWs-0dg-34KsnWm-r-sONG7e8B3y4FKgiKmf0N4FjkkA7pgN_USGc12JMMM9_DmvX0YOrEUkWu7gPc-sNHLtOUWurVLclqBfkVUZwIEHtIz7E5Xjk3/s640/20110702-_DSC3486.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Fully loaded next to the Loire river.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKutrag0QmepIZSBjmetGEWzsyO_pj79kn9DsqhH4nBgHusfNSnf1kGfg2olgK61wddI_4_OQrrQbDQXUrKk6_HKTIgBGn7tMK5ScNL7dRxiw0ByMN3bFkMamZIzsK6k83miXdCdg9eCX/s1600/20110701-_DSC3470.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKutrag0QmepIZSBjmetGEWzsyO_pj79kn9DsqhH4nBgHusfNSnf1kGfg2olgK61wddI_4_OQrrQbDQXUrKk6_HKTIgBGn7tMK5ScNL7dRxiw0ByMN3bFkMamZIzsK6k83miXdCdg9eCX/s640/20110701-_DSC3470.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Pont canal - a canal on a bridge over the Loire river.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1NvzDG__mV9bQOQuRNzSr9Hx9M3YniPkCsFyJ5AaT-hktOi308BLtAjuUsv_Kd2WTx_GUwje5KQC50iXg76gryDXC9afOpJyTFkOpY5m864DBxnJ9t6VazXtlO2luZUCB9961fe71EbIT/s1600/20110702-_DSC3473.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1NvzDG__mV9bQOQuRNzSr9Hx9M3YniPkCsFyJ5AaT-hktOi308BLtAjuUsv_Kd2WTx_GUwje5KQC50iXg76gryDXC9afOpJyTFkOpY5m864DBxnJ9t6VazXtlO2luZUCB9961fe71EbIT/s640/20110702-_DSC3473.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Bike path along the Loire river south of Briare.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">South from Noisy-sur-École to Gien we cycled on smaller roads and at Gien we joined up with the Euro Velo 6 route to the Black Sea. The route is sometimes signposted, sometimes not but we have maps to follow and make our own decisions about which way we want to go. Some of the route, like the last couple of days, has been on well paved canal paths. Some has been on atrociously surfaced small country roads and some has been gravel. Some times we cycle on regular roads (generally nothing too busy). </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The weather has been great up until today - sun shining, sometimes a little cloud cover to cool things down, only a couple of really hot days (one we rested and the other we rode as far as we could). But today we've had storms all day, thunder and lightening and absolutely soaking rain. Never a dull moment!</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">*</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">words Gabby, images Neil</div>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-19598980214859266752011-06-29T19:40:00.000+02:002011-06-29T19:40:50.113+02:00A farewell to (sore) armsDappled green sun light<br />
Sussuration, birdsong, rocks<br />
- my heart calls this home<br />
<br />
A sad day today, our last day of climbing before we head off into the wide blue yonder tomorrow morning. We've avoided putting up too many climbing shots in different posts, as it can get a bit boring, but we figured bugger that, we need to put up some more and show off at least once, so here are a bunch of photos of our climbing experiences over the last two months.<br />
<br />
Enjoy, we certainly have...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyMNPzSNGLGxmpJEGIQSJmcTGPdtVK-xZ1qPdsPL_KYSJs1v7b9ilQDiazB-_ZGhMQ2BTzI_ASgFEtZHBzHNLEZfbC4UCahcz4awU1HpwDJjmdPifW1wiJh0mYnTJwloKjYQO095S4q8nQ/s1600/climbing-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyMNPzSNGLGxmpJEGIQSJmcTGPdtVK-xZ1qPdsPL_KYSJs1v7b9ilQDiazB-_ZGhMQ2BTzI_ASgFEtZHBzHNLEZfbC4UCahcz4awU1HpwDJjmdPifW1wiJh0mYnTJwloKjYQO095S4q8nQ/s400/climbing-1.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">My faithful chalkbag, still going strong after 10 years of service</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBqCFLFpSBbAQIS6pVRCz30fIc3y8ooAwLLsMSkhtWZAh18HfDZ0IBuo2_fIaPet1w9uYCCB3EIfpV8_vZrL1hUGiOPKoT5MDDgB5NiQUt2zG6J8q49B2De8o0Iuouu6sLurgxJPi3V4YR/s1600/climbing-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBqCFLFpSBbAQIS6pVRCz30fIc3y8ooAwLLsMSkhtWZAh18HfDZ0IBuo2_fIaPet1w9uYCCB3EIfpV8_vZrL1hUGiOPKoT5MDDgB5NiQUt2zG6J8q49B2De8o0Iuouu6sLurgxJPi3V4YR/s640/climbing-2.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8BY_FIIINQIBhqeANrmUQPyJuzM_lbVryEWBmFqz1bha5HdxQcKexQitgU4yimKf4K7x1JdKeH8iulWmd9YkS4CK1c2PzD5GQSbt4sR64C-atwdQE8wYeN-ROcin8Hyj9WtMVA0Yru5XP/s1600/climbing-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8BY_FIIINQIBhqeANrmUQPyJuzM_lbVryEWBmFqz1bha5HdxQcKexQitgU4yimKf4K7x1JdKeH8iulWmd9YkS4CK1c2PzD5GQSbt4sR64C-atwdQE8wYeN-ROcin8Hyj9WtMVA0Yru5XP/s640/climbing-3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Not much you can say about this one, really</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvXmXKOkOIp3nxpbJIwla7b-lemIvUk2KaiUASiHC0l3fbgD9_L1L3h7GUP7P6Bp6H0pAA3HKZJYLI8mBZVSmyJz1rP0z3-PLyQEuTVoI1dbr5hHYA2Y6Zd9h9vWw8oxs2yBU6GXK7ou9/s1600/climbing-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBvXmXKOkOIp3nxpbJIwla7b-lemIvUk2KaiUASiHC0l3fbgD9_L1L3h7GUP7P6Bp6H0pAA3HKZJYLI8mBZVSmyJz1rP0z3-PLyQEuTVoI1dbr5hHYA2Y6Zd9h9vWw8oxs2yBU6GXK7ou9/s640/climbing-4.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8mc_3DGl2-ZPvJtrE0UMFIahmxYFixEgc4S7sOndOiFh0kA5qAw0ssdjoDN0JBnSR8oOVO1DCcIAZieTmK8PsY9RrhcD2FUQ66xE4fRK1-faM0uOxQt9rj7pKDiF0nsgrEZ3X_yByJKpl/s1600/climbing-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8mc_3DGl2-ZPvJtrE0UMFIahmxYFixEgc4S7sOndOiFh0kA5qAw0ssdjoDN0JBnSR8oOVO1DCcIAZieTmK8PsY9RrhcD2FUQ66xE4fRK1-faM0uOxQt9rj7pKDiF0nsgrEZ3X_yByJKpl/s640/climbing-5.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYoktZhxF3NL8AHnRcwApTAeOrMiStxjaLpzj0j4M1ceQCBNTkEuB-AZkIROWslpJiBtxqADrg8C4lQDU25ZyABqdrkMjUIS3LFrantbaouae1AIfDUgBSnkCR6IZUkO1sLo_hPkZ1iRpF/s1600/climbing-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYoktZhxF3NL8AHnRcwApTAeOrMiStxjaLpzj0j4M1ceQCBNTkEuB-AZkIROWslpJiBtxqADrg8C4lQDU25ZyABqdrkMjUIS3LFrantbaouae1AIfDUgBSnkCR6IZUkO1sLo_hPkZ1iRpF/s640/climbing-6.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>This one's for Jason</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSH6RhlJ1nByXCFbqvqxdgH2Ec-ljBwhkXzbjBLEr7X8_qjMODMXoJXvuem6tljVT0jAiaNsNkDHBlIlBJbuRjeT8-Ad_M149WLpc7d6avU3N7oGyECq_8kl2HITbbRUgptMX1bwGqdlLh/s1600/climbing-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSH6RhlJ1nByXCFbqvqxdgH2Ec-ljBwhkXzbjBLEr7X8_qjMODMXoJXvuem6tljVT0jAiaNsNkDHBlIlBJbuRjeT8-Ad_M149WLpc7d6avU3N7oGyECq_8kl2HITbbRUgptMX1bwGqdlLh/s640/climbing-8.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The best system in the world - the climbs are numbered and colour-coded into different circuits</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIhGTKijNMAH7cOfFM7zmuPlnpCX2zXyTKPcpu0uS84bopKh9yzvouGCaAIgcSn1DCSlF_zDCMHhcfpOXD96XfkaChbBIvXb9Bawh-ixDXj5jjEE7TBUlSZnbG_NQuqf70J8O1M12BKLUI/s1600/climbing-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIhGTKijNMAH7cOfFM7zmuPlnpCX2zXyTKPcpu0uS84bopKh9yzvouGCaAIgcSn1DCSlF_zDCMHhcfpOXD96XfkaChbBIvXb9Bawh-ixDXj5jjEE7TBUlSZnbG_NQuqf70J8O1M12BKLUI/s640/climbing-9.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjjfUS3xlv36HBI5C72JDDRvWVKK-eEM8R0pDwIVqd67b18p9jn5Dgee_aCdWC4nIujDYcQEjvpvwr_wVFU_Eyq1U1mxXDvdIIsq_op3WQxQwsIc7CG-scoS03V5bDMkuKvnBaWDTwJOcs/s1600/climbing-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjjfUS3xlv36HBI5C72JDDRvWVKK-eEM8R0pDwIVqd67b18p9jn5Dgee_aCdWC4nIujDYcQEjvpvwr_wVFU_Eyq1U1mxXDvdIIsq_op3WQxQwsIc7CG-scoS03V5bDMkuKvnBaWDTwJOcs/s640/climbing-10.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5rEtGc3aEUj0j-yb77oCTuBSAbVHOo3Xme09dj1lgodWQwX8uyslC87c3wHDDZgZZulgkBaVys0qBl2srsgtV5R_2U2A3R-OSavNDcWFLLKWiribcZ_Ld1SvD_vo5vwuZdPsCifaJdRQt/s1600/climbing-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5rEtGc3aEUj0j-yb77oCTuBSAbVHOo3Xme09dj1lgodWQwX8uyslC87c3wHDDZgZZulgkBaVys0qBl2srsgtV5R_2U2A3R-OSavNDcWFLLKWiribcZ_Ld1SvD_vo5vwuZdPsCifaJdRQt/s640/climbing-11.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Gabby high-fiving the rock</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitRTTup-DsTykUkaL-RPmsdHvNn0oNnX3_3htXUnXJs6iaC20B2jsyRpBBMIgUwy1sQiEEVR7Flvqe2_Wbf2Sp4meIl1EZ9AGqjLJEnuy2YiDa3Iek1mhjgpSz6aJjtFljGXkeMfQ0aHb3/s1600/climbing-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitRTTup-DsTykUkaL-RPmsdHvNn0oNnX3_3htXUnXJs6iaC20B2jsyRpBBMIgUwy1sQiEEVR7Flvqe2_Wbf2Sp4meIl1EZ9AGqjLJEnuy2YiDa3Iek1mhjgpSz6aJjtFljGXkeMfQ0aHb3/s640/climbing-12.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYWeGcRr1PTPgSzK6cwLsCib4rXipSozt9QaFAYWC9wEBbw-NHmOFuUxlluBOB4-41eNhbRClY_r8pT4PtzhQMIxHLMGphqnjT6JYW4b2aMIXBAS7lN4WrNEeZrt01sd9I7edt8mSSd1Hn/s1600/climbing-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYWeGcRr1PTPgSzK6cwLsCib4rXipSozt9QaFAYWC9wEBbw-NHmOFuUxlluBOB4-41eNhbRClY_r8pT4PtzhQMIxHLMGphqnjT6JYW4b2aMIXBAS7lN4WrNEeZrt01sd9I7edt8mSSd1Hn/s640/climbing-13.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Gabby on Le Cube</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-wa8_15R3PeorLL0JJBeH7R7f4wf0nMrT7TXWpMmWTg9WA8XhtE8I340AcuUthPpPCm3c-1iFPJFSccfSzTcZLGpciW5JlWO__UL0SYwUZt7xLRwo59Lp4e51cqh16ox2x1OBjMzLhuej/s1600/climbing-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-wa8_15R3PeorLL0JJBeH7R7f4wf0nMrT7TXWpMmWTg9WA8XhtE8I340AcuUthPpPCm3c-1iFPJFSccfSzTcZLGpciW5JlWO__UL0SYwUZt7xLRwo59Lp4e51cqh16ox2x1OBjMzLhuej/s640/climbing-14.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGyK45YirnK99-cNJANXEvecwsYYiDAeKFtgN_YsSCNcfV9kqnkSIJrw3qJEgVYar_oakVEFwVLUg9mMkgUM30M-YNY8InEI5WmtYp_dWknqzOBVqqKyIm6twZh9peFYbd2dZr18uJ7-3t/s1600/climbing-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGyK45YirnK99-cNJANXEvecwsYYiDAeKFtgN_YsSCNcfV9kqnkSIJrw3qJEgVYar_oakVEFwVLUg9mMkgUM30M-YNY8InEI5WmtYp_dWknqzOBVqqKyIm6twZh9peFYbd2dZr18uJ7-3t/s640/climbing-15.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6C_D8Y5OYujADTIFhMDNSmw0bivKCSXBvmgga9H0fL-GFQaxbUT22O1Ek_hU9leudOo0z5pAZCtN9Gm7nzXcQ70HLWyGb1JgYQsIy-KJWLsntET3x9MjDHoZR94cB1FLvei6HXwFZpalx/s1600/climbing-16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6C_D8Y5OYujADTIFhMDNSmw0bivKCSXBvmgga9H0fL-GFQaxbUT22O1Ek_hU9leudOo0z5pAZCtN9Gm7nzXcQ70HLWyGb1JgYQsIy-KJWLsntET3x9MjDHoZR94cB1FLvei6HXwFZpalx/s640/climbing-16.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tyYoyrLYzyhmv-JXpJZ8YhkBXPAZKaO1JlOV_v30gm8U5Y1ZFapycDNWxrLaFG-pFdmuZq-FaXN8sgcz5l_BOC5Nh8h4eQAGfZHa-TZjrp1egJMH9akHKAd7MkYJfaP1GYxeru9IqAUQ/s1600/climbing-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tyYoyrLYzyhmv-JXpJZ8YhkBXPAZKaO1JlOV_v30gm8U5Y1ZFapycDNWxrLaFG-pFdmuZq-FaXN8sgcz5l_BOC5Nh8h4eQAGfZHa-TZjrp1egJMH9akHKAd7MkYJfaP1GYxeru9IqAUQ/s640/climbing-19.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPff-qzKG9MuNc5WyU6qufv__jKwV1aX06z5EXqfcY2J8gmdm-j4ettnPlPfE40pgrWdz6KZbMgzw112i-SNnFlOyGsrnI3ISQjFeVtTKFa7FiWiOgDB67aTNHDGO0gvs-HTZlW3_BxRnM/s1600/climbing-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPff-qzKG9MuNc5WyU6qufv__jKwV1aX06z5EXqfcY2J8gmdm-j4ettnPlPfE40pgrWdz6KZbMgzw112i-SNnFlOyGsrnI3ISQjFeVtTKFa7FiWiOgDB67aTNHDGO0gvs-HTZlW3_BxRnM/s640/climbing-20.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>She gets this same look when I don't do the dishes</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHyr6qyKyndW0YbZcg9g-AsGBztDe0iuGrFOr_GqX6hM8IkgVK3Fbt8BxfCyMInqHxZDst2WBGKtwPTMOBN31Av8FHhEZzI0knF9odUx5r2Cux8AKb20zZC_2YzAc9lxd2Sgxac3mAttWA/s1600/climbing-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHyr6qyKyndW0YbZcg9g-AsGBztDe0iuGrFOr_GqX6hM8IkgVK3Fbt8BxfCyMInqHxZDst2WBGKtwPTMOBN31Av8FHhEZzI0knF9odUx5r2Cux8AKb20zZC_2YzAc9lxd2Sgxac3mAttWA/s640/climbing-21.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVdT0Zlgv1er1tU1kPwq4PCexfEQH8bnKl3xppDyBPYj4Kl4F7ZvzCQxkFikR-Xrv9YSYlahY-B4F9OcBVj2g0eMMctn24SDNhsrQGGU-orRPvfNTBYr8a5vPWOGMeudwQ2tOKFMGangF8/s1600/climbing-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVdT0Zlgv1er1tU1kPwq4PCexfEQH8bnKl3xppDyBPYj4Kl4F7ZvzCQxkFikR-Xrv9YSYlahY-B4F9OcBVj2g0eMMctn24SDNhsrQGGU-orRPvfNTBYr8a5vPWOGMeudwQ2tOKFMGangF8/s640/climbing-22.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8RDeOtTW3KR7HaWkGBZC7LOl8kt7R10hZBCNmCYfU9cYO6ow_wp257yPT1CCMaWUZlxa7j0okhYk70nBE-KBiNkchJhCFa-jOLn2tzj5IYkSeEXfKN_ZVzLNVStbAUnhJw6YYiuJ7hAO/s1600/climbing-23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8RDeOtTW3KR7HaWkGBZC7LOl8kt7R10hZBCNmCYfU9cYO6ow_wp257yPT1CCMaWUZlxa7j0okhYk70nBE-KBiNkchJhCFa-jOLn2tzj5IYkSeEXfKN_ZVzLNVStbAUnhJw6YYiuJ7hAO/s640/climbing-23.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The look of a man who knows this is going to hurt</i></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxENA66RY7kV0pHK9SBWVOutfevqRdAEHq5Y5ni-xw-BKWdGyqY76yBaeVnPc5rZfrP6WM1-OZGTkDQCbIegZxRa5-ZLiPYHRsXyvxnMz3Sk_bM2TxRG71Inqjiy9WU13ZYfZKONUvRZha/s1600/climbing-24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxENA66RY7kV0pHK9SBWVOutfevqRdAEHq5Y5ni-xw-BKWdGyqY76yBaeVnPc5rZfrP6WM1-OZGTkDQCbIegZxRa5-ZLiPYHRsXyvxnMz3Sk_bM2TxRG71Inqjiy9WU13ZYfZKONUvRZha/s640/climbing-24.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Told you</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82hIX7w_wjQCvrOKgDGU0O70_wE_x3NacgIFAzT8-LEr6i9Rw7BvmjAFHufio7TjVw-mMrBc7t58kYJM9LkFSKONaiL_P33jgqVhKaWuUmIM7yj_OzgGfZly8ITdhMDsaPCwFSuAeGEvH/s1600/climbing-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82hIX7w_wjQCvrOKgDGU0O70_wE_x3NacgIFAzT8-LEr6i9Rw7BvmjAFHufio7TjVw-mMrBc7t58kYJM9LkFSKONaiL_P33jgqVhKaWuUmIM7yj_OzgGfZly8ITdhMDsaPCwFSuAeGEvH/s640/climbing-7.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>We'll miss you, Font</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-24272351562357592502011-06-23T09:30:00.001+02:002011-06-28T10:04:48.430+02:00Noisy-sur-ÉcoleTiny pink roses<br />
drape heavily over walls -<br />
bright against old stone.<br />
<br />
<br />
Noisy-sur-École is the village where we have been staying these last several weeks. Roughly 60km southeast of Paris, it is on the edge of the department of Seine et Marne in Ile de France. Milly-la-Foret, the closest small town (about 5km away), where we do our grocery shopping, is in the department of Essonne. As well as being on the edge of the Fontainebleau Forest, where we have been climbing, we are also in the heart of the <span class="total">Gâtinais Français, a region known especially for wheat, honey and peppermint.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdy74_fTWGv-GzVN16Fxw8GxjbZQ4tKoH6qvLsnc1GW0CM73cJun_poeEL4qIPOheJMZi_oclZ0lcNf9dHVDl0f25mdCVLasHx1glAK6mauRLvlrCNuVB51_UwH34hxJtoTbYhaTjopAwd/s1600/20110507-_DSC1492.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdy74_fTWGv-GzVN16Fxw8GxjbZQ4tKoH6qvLsnc1GW0CM73cJun_poeEL4qIPOheJMZi_oclZ0lcNf9dHVDl0f25mdCVLasHx1glAK6mauRLvlrCNuVB51_UwH34hxJtoTbYhaTjopAwd/s640/20110507-_DSC1492.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsgu5YLYsfwOLFne8v643Sz3gT4SzELHDyFYkgcEN1i9Qu7sNF4qgOGgkYfe3e_LfYqoIXJLrsnTOT3X9CgKPX6FMSHgpAKxUwMU2Rp9hC4JNSfd1wKRY46l0y-Kbes_VE5bP7-DTQ1T4/s1600/20110518-_DSC2174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsgu5YLYsfwOLFne8v643Sz3gT4SzELHDyFYkgcEN1i9Qu7sNF4qgOGgkYfe3e_LfYqoIXJLrsnTOT3X9CgKPX6FMSHgpAKxUwMU2Rp9hC4JNSfd1wKRY46l0y-Kbes_VE5bP7-DTQ1T4/s640/20110518-_DSC2174.jpg" width="470" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>This is actually in Le Vaudoué, the next village, where we have stayed in previous years.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVmQmyddijtvngMI-1N36dVyTcHtOx3ElOjFo-Xy3R3FA9j7WvxIg0G410xMdqcJIV19ujBUp_0Y3RZHF3m2S41ZpY7cx7MrwQ7S9WQfxvufvl_ckoCqy_442PyzDFFKXG4WIJLWDSXYl/s1600/20110518-_DSC2238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVmQmyddijtvngMI-1N36dVyTcHtOx3ElOjFo-Xy3R3FA9j7WvxIg0G410xMdqcJIV19ujBUp_0Y3RZHF3m2S41ZpY7cx7MrwQ7S9WQfxvufvl_ckoCqy_442PyzDFFKXG4WIJLWDSXYl/s640/20110518-_DSC2238.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <br />
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<span class="total">The village itself is only about five streets and most of the streets lead to the fields that surround the village - wheat, canola (rape) and some vegie gardens. Our landlords have one of these vegie gardens, as well as chooks in the backyard here. They are forever bringing us fresh things to eat - eggs, spinach, lettuce, broadbeans, cherries, red currants, endive, peas, even some home made bread. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid-9YJ0LVrALY5I-mocYoz_DdKhodqwHi304RwAvmxtcS2B5bqOv-VvNGAoxKXtWBGSe3nqUsZh00g0AISYsiiRPjJjMg6ZcZc4j2mK_JR08EKs0WGtsndkbhyphenhyphenxm2ZY6CpY7VksmhVtnlu/s1600/20110518-_DSC2243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid-9YJ0LVrALY5I-mocYoz_DdKhodqwHi304RwAvmxtcS2B5bqOv-VvNGAoxKXtWBGSe3nqUsZh00g0AISYsiiRPjJjMg6ZcZc4j2mK_JR08EKs0WGtsndkbhyphenhyphenxm2ZY6CpY7VksmhVtnlu/s640/20110518-_DSC2243.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeit17HK24CmIRnQz5HHSMzDuAshUZKSSDMObQzb5e4fHIFOlBer5W9wROm3NvO1Q8TfW5DQtqi4UwCuUon1czY6gOmVYxN9NqsLngtnHlneh4lXubS8L2l2XiSVEl78HCyCezSt8E0Hh7/s1600/20110518-_DSC2248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeit17HK24CmIRnQz5HHSMzDuAshUZKSSDMObQzb5e4fHIFOlBer5W9wROm3NvO1Q8TfW5DQtqi4UwCuUon1czY6gOmVYxN9NqsLngtnHlneh4lXubS8L2l2XiSVEl78HCyCezSt8E0Hh7/s640/20110518-_DSC2248.jpg" width="428" /></a></div><br />
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<span class="total">All the houses in the village are built of stone, most have rooves of traditional flat clay tiles. Their walls and gates are built of the local sandstone as well, with flowering plants in front or climbing over to give a bit of colour. When we arrived, the roses were just coming into flower, some are still blooming. Then there were rainbows of iris and lily, now it's hollyhocks. All looking a bit bedraggled at the moment after a week of rain and wind.</span><br />
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<span class="total">Past the fields is the forest, acres and acres of it. Pine trees, chestnuts, oaks and birches make up the majority of the woods, but there are plenty of other species of trees and shrubs in there as well. It is permissible to gather chestnuts, mushrooms and daffodils 'in moderate amounts'. Unfortunately we arrived too late in spring for daffodils and we haven't had much luck with mushrooms. Scattered through the forest are sandy walking tracks, horse trails and mountain biking tracks as well as thousands upon thousands of boulders, great for climbing or scrambling up. We have seen red squirrels, deer, and plenty of birds including woodpeckers - which actually look really scary close up (sorry, couldn't get a good photo).</span><br />
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<span class="total">We've loved it here, but it's getting close to time we took off again. This time next week we'll be on the road again, heading for the Loire river then parts eastern all the way to Istanbul. </span><br />
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<span class="total">Well, that's the current plan...</span><br />
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<span class="total">words by Gabby, pics by Neil & Gabby<br />
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</span>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-83976155231938237382011-06-22T14:12:00.000+02:002011-06-22T14:12:21.190+02:00Fromage to eternity - an homage to fromageI'll have some Brie please<br />
or Camembert at a pinch -<br />
life's hard decisions<br />
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One of our intentions on arriving in France was to try as many different varieties of the more than 500 types of cheese made in this food-crazy country. Unfortunately so far, the French cheese count has not progressed past 23. That's 23 <i>different</i> <i>types</i> of cheese we've eaten, not just 23 cheeses we've eaten - though it might be close to how many kilo of cheese we have consumed in the last three months.<br />
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Part of the problem is that we keep finding cheeses that we want to eat again and again. Like Camembert. We weren't big fans of Camembert before this trip, preferring Brie. But spending a few weeks in Normandy, the home of Camembert, changed all that.<br />
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Here are some of our favourites so far...<br />
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Camembert - possibly France's most well known cheese, of course it had to be our first - given that we started off in Normandy. This was what we had for lunch our first day in France and we were hooked by the wonderful creaminess. Ripened to the perfect temperature by a warm spring morning's pannier ride. Absolutely delicious with Pink Lady apples.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmTk2WO2kMgJ8jwuybWbrkxJpEnLNF0BmfuLToEzq37dEs2VQavxTNyhMDWGGTP_9-U7ujrtKcAlyJAA7nbfNa9fasu3yQ36zS6lh9tDeneGY26aT7Eulk19HgI3-8rQxdE8zFee1zE9p/s1600/20110411-_DSC0775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmTk2WO2kMgJ8jwuybWbrkxJpEnLNF0BmfuLToEzq37dEs2VQavxTNyhMDWGGTP_9-U7ujrtKcAlyJAA7nbfNa9fasu3yQ36zS6lh9tDeneGY26aT7Eulk19HgI3-8rQxdE8zFee1zE9p/s640/20110411-_DSC0775.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Petit Breton - we didn't get as far west as Brittany but figured that that didn't prevent us sampling their cheese. This was a mellow yellow cheese, not soft, not hard, with a nice smooth texture. Probably the best thing we did this particular freezing spring day was to buy this cheese.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmCLPYexKIaNZwNa3DmjXqiMbi7xyvmhGh84NulyjAnFA5KJc1hV_XxGd2RhxYUbS25WuKnhpc_PmFsGpSn5oYNcEl_N_FXIP-QzfNtmWqwiMqVievTe-RAayStkgW_2weIYWD9O2vyeN/s1600/20110413-_DSC0841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmCLPYexKIaNZwNa3DmjXqiMbi7xyvmhGh84NulyjAnFA5KJc1hV_XxGd2RhxYUbS25WuKnhpc_PmFsGpSn5oYNcEl_N_FXIP-QzfNtmWqwiMqVievTe-RAayStkgW_2weIYWD9O2vyeN/s640/20110413-_DSC0841.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Le Brebiou - we quite like the particular edgy flavour of sheep and goats milk cheeses. This was a soft sheeps cheese with a bit of a rind. It went very well with some pigeon heart tomatoes.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxPrxfyRH21k8KUfQPFZLIut5jrXWkFwSTtNRbjcSdUun6UGVNI7CjqWNJ2X4IZB964LIFwAUL69sFqIqG-zDsi22FD261Tm1LyJZBeiLDzEORpyV7mLo5RFcwo6CZ1PKQd2RO8IpwVru/s1600/20110415-_DSC0914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxPrxfyRH21k8KUfQPFZLIut5jrXWkFwSTtNRbjcSdUun6UGVNI7CjqWNJ2X4IZB964LIFwAUL69sFqIqG-zDsi22FD261Tm1LyJZBeiLDzEORpyV7mLo5RFcwo6CZ1PKQd2RO8IpwVru/s640/20110415-_DSC0914.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Livarot - quite a distinctive and pungent cheese, not really for a hot day. The rind is almost gritty in texture and the cheese has a fairly strong flavour. However, it went well with the walnuts and dried apricots we were carrying in our bar bags as trail mix.<br />
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Pont l'Éveque - not as creamy as Camembert, with a slightly stronger flavour. We enjoyed it as part of a decadent picnic feast on a rest day in Pont l'Éveque. Where better to enjoy a cheese than it's home town ?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilRKg7hzyBBjO1XqTnfMZcOptSDjvnYS8_Y81xxifn2asbZqbxEe9LPxJ_kAkFQnc8lmP3AEaIv1EVEhyeOa98mivKSCyk1gkBZ9rBltOLfoJ66FuhHmLm2TItu_pR8TTiuCtkAxaV70K2/s1600/20110426-_DSC1197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilRKg7hzyBBjO1XqTnfMZcOptSDjvnYS8_Y81xxifn2asbZqbxEe9LPxJ_kAkFQnc8lmP3AEaIv1EVEhyeOa98mivKSCyk1gkBZ9rBltOLfoJ66FuhHmLm2TItu_pR8TTiuCtkAxaV70K2/s640/20110426-_DSC1197.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Chevre - a nice crumbly log of dry Chevre, with a soft rind holding the whole thing together. Sitting in the shade of a tree by a pond on a warm spring day, serenaded by a chorus of frogs happy with the morning's shower of rain. With a bit of hoummous and a few pigeon heart tomatoes for juiciness.<br />
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Le Délice de Bourgogne - a lovely rich and creamy soft rind cheese that doesn't ooze quite so much as Camembert on a warm day. We ate the whole cheese for lunch spread onto slabs of fresh sourdough baguette. Nothing else needed. Though the tartelette aux pommes afterward was a nice touch.<br />
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Le Crottin - great little goats cheeses, not as dry as the Chevre logs. Still with the distinctive goats milk flavour but softer and with a soft wrinkled rind. The hardest part is overcoming the temptation to pop one in your mouth whole - but they are just that bit too big. Sliced, they do crumble a bit but quartered is the perfect mouthful. You won't stop at one...<br />
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Lou Perac - la Brique de Brebis from the Midi-Pyrenées is a medium soft sheeps cheese with a soft rind. It has a mild and delicate flavour. <br />
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Corsica - sheeps milk cheese.When we lived in Dublin, our favourite shop was Sheridan's the cheesemongers. And our favourite cheese from Sheridan's (and naturally one of the more expensive) was a Corsican cheese called Brin d'Amour - a sheeps cheese of medium firmness that had been rolled in herbs of the maquis. We haven't seen anything quite like it here. Yet. This cheese has a similar flavour (funnily enough, also being a sheeps milk cheese from Corsica) but doesn't have quite the same dense texture or the herb crust. It's still very tasty though. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltXos0AhifAxn0SfZI9LsXvQaAL3MtDqFVgHtHU7IycuSFg8v9FqujPDEzC_iPtuNnekjILUzhmvXawJo7AVtQ7VFJStrRwHJLqV1js6VXgXypmvpSvcq7f-O0KLsPYJlw84MAvPZrGyI/s1600/20110621-_DSC3048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltXos0AhifAxn0SfZI9LsXvQaAL3MtDqFVgHtHU7IycuSFg8v9FqujPDEzC_iPtuNnekjILUzhmvXawJo7AVtQ7VFJStrRwHJLqV1js6VXgXypmvpSvcq7f-O0KLsPYJlw84MAvPZrGyI/s640/20110621-_DSC3048.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Pie d'Angloys - very soft, very creamy and rich. Another cheese from the Burgundy region. Very yummy. Like Camembert, it pairs nicely with some crisp, sweet Pink Lady apple slices.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDwsESbd3a0c5XmpgIdAzSiv_bD18X7EBCXImZcUsgidew8uDCdrS1KWIK-71GkqhPB0M1tOmx1WQOk6nSZxnwGsrWLFt1JWudifCfY6zW1u-JB2xHFWVJdRp8vr0YiBtjDZYOt5yLFCH/s1600/20110621-_DSC3051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDwsESbd3a0c5XmpgIdAzSiv_bD18X7EBCXImZcUsgidew8uDCdrS1KWIK-71GkqhPB0M1tOmx1WQOk6nSZxnwGsrWLFt1JWudifCfY6zW1u-JB2xHFWVJdRp8vr0YiBtjDZYOt5yLFCH/s640/20110621-_DSC3051.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Tome Noir - from the Pyrenées. Slightly soft but still firm textured with a delicate flavour. We were just tasting it and suddenly the piece was nearly gone...<br />
<br />
Bon appétit<br />
<br />
<br />
*<br />
words and pics by Neil and GabbyNeil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-51659710069193704482011-06-21T19:02:00.000+02:002011-06-21T19:02:49.257+02:00At last !Days and days of rain,<br />
finally it's mushroom time -<br />
or are they toad stools ?<br />
<br />
It has been a frustrating week for us. Our second last week here, hoping to get as much climbing as possible done, and it has rained and rained. And rained. Every time the rain stops long enough to even think it might be possible to go out, it rains again. On the week-end we had wild showers but the last couple of days have been gentle pitter pattering falls interspersed with misty not-quite-rain.<br />
<br />
There's no denying it was needed after such a hot dry spring.<br />
<br />
We did some work on our blog - added a couple of new pages for anyone interested in our gear for this trip. We re-read our books. We skyped some people. Then finally the sun and the mushrooms came out !<br />
<br />
Fairy ring champignons, to be exact. We found a couple in our own backyard, then plenty more further afield.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfmFCagEg0uNsqqB50QLPgQVHN7dvT_uBFr9CEKpBNCNqkJ2BdH6l4HtRrBmPsMwJHSMruv4y1jps9jEzUlKMt3OxDQqDHahr6PrT9lW1ozuz6kOcysnXf5yYBrCJTiIe3VE_Lwa1lsQW/s1600/20110621-_DSC3054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfmFCagEg0uNsqqB50QLPgQVHN7dvT_uBFr9CEKpBNCNqkJ2BdH6l4HtRrBmPsMwJHSMruv4y1jps9jEzUlKMt3OxDQqDHahr6PrT9lW1ozuz6kOcysnXf5yYBrCJTiIe3VE_Lwa1lsQW/s640/20110621-_DSC3054.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Just outside our door !</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Not having found Fairy ring champignons before we followed the proper precautions in identifying them - checked that it was the correct season, checked the size, shape and colour of the stem, the cap and the gills, then took a spore print. We were quite sure of what they were but better safe than sorry!<br />
<br />
Everything matched perfectly, so we went and picked some more.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaSsBm6PShmeKmNfWRAGQ3TzepW1ta70QP_xcwcMAoT0WJNs8GL3ugolqXUpXYIu2a2qvJ96kNBEHFCiRu-TMJUMu0EMsuHsVv_U6CVTUZVUCjrvXyUlQLseb-2HF-KskU4rc5BkLQTzU/s1600/20110621-_DSC3068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaSsBm6PShmeKmNfWRAGQ3TzepW1ta70QP_xcwcMAoT0WJNs8GL3ugolqXUpXYIu2a2qvJ96kNBEHFCiRu-TMJUMu0EMsuHsVv_U6CVTUZVUCjrvXyUlQLseb-2HF-KskU4rc5BkLQTzU/s640/20110621-_DSC3068.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Just a few to start with - now we know where they are.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJzenPeeq4h_luoYOS3OHt67wFAzLKr98PP-OBK4FntToHCJx5WglMNbbzO9mD66dJxDzFBzi_z92AanRoyGDmitGqlRRas7DZX8RjALJtQa9yCymwxxN5pfba5KbTVwvTSNFIbKyep6Q/s1600/20110621-_DSC3061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJzenPeeq4h_luoYOS3OHt67wFAzLKr98PP-OBK4FntToHCJx5WglMNbbzO9mD66dJxDzFBzi_z92AanRoyGDmitGqlRRas7DZX8RjALJtQa9yCymwxxN5pfba5KbTVwvTSNFIbKyep6Q/s640/20110621-_DSC3061.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>They're not very large, just as well we know where there's more...</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
And the final test - the taste test. Well, not just a taste test. Since we haven't eaten this type of mushroom before it's best to try a few to start with, just in case your body doesn't like them. These mushrooms need to be cooked before eating, otherwise they can be poisonous.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_AxglzGQphEShFbS7NtaUTptp3uyqtzLdnfgT9CeJNMNsl6imb9LwHPknENdMCmwRSYy_9cr0d0NTFtWnwUob9KzoD9gtxDiBxVreaz_pBsdLKoEN_S44ehADDchqYOOanzSerGXjrnAJ/s1600/20110621-_DSC3080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_AxglzGQphEShFbS7NtaUTptp3uyqtzLdnfgT9CeJNMNsl6imb9LwHPknENdMCmwRSYy_9cr0d0NTFtWnwUob9KzoD9gtxDiBxVreaz_pBsdLKoEN_S44ehADDchqYOOanzSerGXjrnAJ/s640/20110621-_DSC3080.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Yum.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
So Neil fried up a few, very simply in butter with salt and pepper and we had a few morsels each on some fresh baguette. With a slightly nutty flavour and nice firm texture, we are looking forward to plenty more for dinner tomorrow night.<br />
<br />
Neil's already planning rabbit with some of the (very fresh) red currant jelly that Sylvie gave us on Sunday (bottled that morning) to go with his. I think I'd be happy with just a huge plate of mushrooms !<br />
<br />
And hopefully we'll get to climb tomorrow...<br />
<br />
*<br />
words by Gabby, pictures by Neil and GabbyNeil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-37712124591553327062011-06-18T22:30:00.000+02:002011-06-18T22:30:49.309+02:00Berry sticky fingersWind rocks the tree tops,<br />
rain falls horizontally - <br />
lovely summer's day.<br />
<br />
<br />
It's been a week of fickle weather, and none more so than today's. Much like an Irish summer's day, we've had lashing rain, coming in sideways, alternating with brilliant sunshine and mad winds all day. The rain started last night and hadn't cleared this morning, so we knew there was no hope of climbing today. We're in dire need of more books to read, and only one person at a time can use the computer. So, what to do ?<br />
<br />
The answer came with Michel-Ange's tap at the door. A bucket of red currants. There are a couple of bushes in the backyard and finally they have ripened. Hmm, methinks a bout of cooking is in order. But what ? Jam, jelly, no, some sort of dessert, yes. I know - a tart.<br />
<br />
Lacking a few essential ingredients I decide to risk a run to the shops between showers. Of course, I get soaked. It's a 5km ride and halfway there the heavens open. I stop to put on my rain jacket but by the time I arrive at the shops my pants are drenched and rain has filled my shoes. Gore-tex shoes are great but they can't stop the water coming down through your socks. I squelch around picking up ingredients, only just able to read the shopping list that had been in my pants pocket. Naturally, the sun is shining by the time I'm leaving.<br />
<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CEJZzWXn3SONgQ_sZgVjTlhg23EI4l7bx2wKvyD6ewz_oZv9dzTFUBQTfFRMSBNSBMitODiTrv7JVjCDkk8HAIt9IAhQV5O6qT2BOvILlCsQwF3o10mzxwba-wpKQuZywYL2AG8YG1jW/s1600/20110618-_DSC2950.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CEJZzWXn3SONgQ_sZgVjTlhg23EI4l7bx2wKvyD6ewz_oZv9dzTFUBQTfFRMSBNSBMitODiTrv7JVjCDkk8HAIt9IAhQV5O6qT2BOvILlCsQwF3o10mzxwba-wpKQuZywYL2AG8YG1jW/s640/20110618-_DSC2950.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>This is about half of what we were given.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrKbATtkMRvRwaOeMh9ei1HL3YEbdvoi7hLOFdiuNBly7Wa9QJEddcH0X1nfbWEadzA1s9wS5lzwMr9MZtW7EqwWJcFIboQjDXRdAqVq_nVFOJjFkQxKong3iHoH6QW_tLi7LRS_W6h6U/s1600/20110618-_DSC2953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrKbATtkMRvRwaOeMh9ei1HL3YEbdvoi7hLOFdiuNBly7Wa9QJEddcH0X1nfbWEadzA1s9wS5lzwMr9MZtW7EqwWJcFIboQjDXRdAqVq_nVFOJjFkQxKong3iHoH6QW_tLi7LRS_W6h6U/s640/20110618-_DSC2953.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Lovely deep red, translucent berries.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
First I made the pastry, a sweet shortcrust, and while it was resting in the fridge, cleaned the berries. Unfortunately, some of them accidentally fell into my mouth as I was gently plucking them off their stems. And some of the ever so slightly over-ripe ones had to go too...into my mouth. The problem with really fresh fruit is that they were nearly all perfect. So I had to check some of those as well...<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKkF1AeCDs3JXtiSPJa6CRj3J01w13wJ9PHfQm05LBPgLKSMgSP-6yw36IBme9oCMHB-E3xIKH-8MOWl8kgbSj0cCRr2L9yeUbktXQ3mwFHJJ3zOdoHJtlPi5KHZKV5n6N3QaMVE1qa17a/s1600/20110618-_DSC2954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKkF1AeCDs3JXtiSPJa6CRj3J01w13wJ9PHfQm05LBPgLKSMgSP-6yw36IBme9oCMHB-E3xIKH-8MOWl8kgbSj0cCRr2L9yeUbktXQ3mwFHJJ3zOdoHJtlPi5KHZKV5n6N3QaMVE1qa17a/s640/20110618-_DSC2954.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Definitely berry sticky fingers.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
From here on in it got a bit ad hoc. Actually, the whole thing was, really. With no scales to measure quantities for the pastry I just guessed. It seemed to work out all right, it rolled out smooth enough. Luckily we had eaten a ready made quiche for lunch, so I used the aluminium tray from that as the mould for the pastry case.<br />
<br />
Pastry case cooked, in with the berries, in with the mixed brown sugar, eggs and cream. Maybe some more berries ? Why not ? Oops, looks a bit full. Oh well, they'll sink down a bit when they cook. <br />
<br />
Then halfway through the cooking, the power goes off. The ferocious wind must have brought down a tree onto a power line somewhere. After about an hour and a half the power comes back on and I continue cooking the tart. It has gone a little soggy and I did over fill it a little, but it smells good.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcjRs4cD33va4iIEX6ZRlZQCjFqgfcBLKys2fzfAkgovJZY_e-ywd2kACS-SZQaEeffBn0bXRNrIPISXXpsTMBJVpEt8Gu7AykpphBX5w_VBmXN3G_OFEk-ky6piOz49qJrTkIADOQSbxX/s1600/20110618-_DSC2983.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcjRs4cD33va4iIEX6ZRlZQCjFqgfcBLKys2fzfAkgovJZY_e-ywd2kACS-SZQaEeffBn0bXRNrIPISXXpsTMBJVpEt8Gu7AykpphBX5w_VBmXN3G_OFEk-ky6piOz49qJrTkIADOQSbxX/s640/20110618-_DSC2983.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Out of the oven, note the recycled quiche tin.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Next question is - will it come out in one piece ? Some of the sides and bottom look a little soggy and the whole thing looks a little fragile - but we managed to ease it out with the help of an egg flip (holiday gites are not particularly well stocked with cake making equipment).<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-COZVFSETZi43DhkJzXEqdGZ_kLII66hjkVY0AQv6AeP54wz0qw5wqU05AS-B_IprnqGAVXqGHrzxYUq5QYCEN8u_lMr3NcmlOFpS61_sm4j2TDMAoqVOoeL6wlU45iioPV2ih3gClPm/s1600/20110618-_DSC2990.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-COZVFSETZi43DhkJzXEqdGZ_kLII66hjkVY0AQv6AeP54wz0qw5wqU05AS-B_IprnqGAVXqGHrzxYUq5QYCEN8u_lMr3NcmlOFpS61_sm4j2TDMAoqVOoeL6wlU45iioPV2ih3gClPm/s640/20110618-_DSC2990.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Ta da - it stands on it's own. Mostly.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgxM3hmqAKFXl6F9Ct-MLxTbEVsgLgdZhDhIidLc6snU5u0ftkdeTbBmLWgQXCvvVEvxW8ZWyfzb-XUHiVwlmCI52dUsbW1ULN7YTZio9n16Ts9FOb878NGzjOKL5uGJPFNZUifCwyEI7/s1600/20110618-_DSC2995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgxM3hmqAKFXl6F9Ct-MLxTbEVsgLgdZhDhIidLc6snU5u0ftkdeTbBmLWgQXCvvVEvxW8ZWyfzb-XUHiVwlmCI52dUsbW1ULN7YTZio9n16Ts9FOb878NGzjOKL5uGJPFNZUifCwyEI7/s640/20110618-_DSC2995.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Chez Neil and Gabby.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5_cgMoCoBLUNkDm2Zg9Owwq1UG9qop9M8r1KxhtOXVHHx1eulrqVZNhqhP1ftBRLM5hlAwYQNripGqJ6UCO3cqylUfFw_zPn_K3dWRmZs2y-ig1llDoSjf37L0Xpkv9ostx5QY2DaAwD/s1600/20110618-_DSC3002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV5_cgMoCoBLUNkDm2Zg9Owwq1UG9qop9M8r1KxhtOXVHHx1eulrqVZNhqhP1ftBRLM5hlAwYQNripGqJ6UCO3cqylUfFw_zPn_K3dWRmZs2y-ig1llDoSjf37L0Xpkv9ostx5QY2DaAwD/s640/20110618-_DSC3002.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Fresh Normandy cream and a sprig of mint.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
And the proof of the pudding...<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvP-Z5ZDc33bLqK0hA4jOOKOhG_uFkMoaAgIIpvUHq9uWZoQ3JlcH5b2HhZpokx0lv2z5wn94RakX0i0AR_e9MA4hlLLb0XUkVN4Jqah-3CNPd8mus_PHqEGxFbpovs6ZuW0YC3x0oqfT1/s1600/20110618-_DSC3003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvP-Z5ZDc33bLqK0hA4jOOKOhG_uFkMoaAgIIpvUHq9uWZoQ3JlcH5b2HhZpokx0lv2z5wn94RakX0i0AR_e9MA4hlLLb0XUkVN4Jqah-3CNPd8mus_PHqEGxFbpovs6ZuW0YC3x0oqfT1/s640/20110618-_DSC3003.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Please sir, can I have some more ?</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Yes, that <u>was</u> berry nice. Sorry.<br />
<br />
*<br />
words by Gabby, pics by Neil and GabbyNeil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-2727936494510201002011-06-13T22:07:00.001+02:002011-06-13T22:16:19.899+02:00As much fun as a wet week-endRain patters on leaves,<br />
sheltered under, we are dry -<br />
wind blows then drops fall.<br />
<br />
<br />
When we booked our gite in Noisy-sur-École, we knew that we had to vacate for a previous booking on the Pentecost long week-end, so Friday saw us pack up the panniers, this time with the addition of the bouldering crash pad and head off. Not far away was our destination, in fact less than 30 minutes of cycling brought us to La Musardiere camp ground. Quite a large place, when we arrived we were given a map with directions to the camping corner.<br />
<br />
<br />
We cycled down past the 145 emplacements with electricity, past the second 'bloc sanitaire' and into a quiet corner sheltered by tall pines, oaks and chestnuts. There were probably 10 tents already there, well spaced. Dappled sunlight meandered down between the leaves and as we set up our new tent we could hear the susurrus of leaves overhead.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8rV-sGDrZsOzUghHj9U6gUhmKX7UXpNK_7hAlppG3Fha6l3J9jchoag_aeNlg-KLyfWNZSLq1AIdHHZ26bGZEZPcm13A4muNi0eoqCXmdH4DNuV_NFZtDWoKhKdF2aSE-trqCNEbMy3f/s1600/20110610-_DSC2852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8rV-sGDrZsOzUghHj9U6gUhmKX7UXpNK_7hAlppG3Fha6l3J9jchoag_aeNlg-KLyfWNZSLq1AIdHHZ26bGZEZPcm13A4muNi0eoqCXmdH4DNuV_NFZtDWoKhKdF2aSE-trqCNEbMy3f/s640/20110610-_DSC2852.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Our new tent - with fly. It looks a bit like it's about to take off...</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
After an hour or so, just after we had set up and settled down to lunch, the rain returned (it had been raining quite steadily earlier in the morning). So we got to test out the new tent properly. Well, it kept the rain off and gave us plenty of room to relax, stretched out comfortably in our camping arm chairs. At the same time, there was enough room in each of the vestibules for all of our gear. One of the things we really like about this tent is that it has two doors, so if someone needs to attend to a call of nature at 3am, it doesn't necessarily involve clambering over the other to get out of the tent.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRX-onzIYmq5YwNiZj7W0DCUCJCy3GnxUL6wfpZ8BJiXqFFdeXuDq_AcslVhkWTPjgNkOcj7J7Z7aRockXn-lehXKjWaswM9cpGAPxCHGNkPNf4_z4UJNL35kmTwX_T10TGlwcwxuZej__/s1600/20110610-_DSC2854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRX-onzIYmq5YwNiZj7W0DCUCJCy3GnxUL6wfpZ8BJiXqFFdeXuDq_AcslVhkWTPjgNkOcj7J7Z7aRockXn-lehXKjWaswM9cpGAPxCHGNkPNf4_z4UJNL35kmTwX_T10TGlwcwxuZej__/s640/20110610-_DSC2854.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Plenty of room for reading and relaxing.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZPgpIOOTouhnynmU6NRVZBuCOLr9eGEoJ19vt5IOjqnoQiuDX6war7S3q9RWOOZSAA48aXTWOZh89zykhJ_bTJ7cs0_CHr6ZtEU2AcXz5DbgSw-VGKVjHK9_UP0WALK8PdB-ZRdYCX7O/s1600/20110610-_DSC2857.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ZPgpIOOTouhnynmU6NRVZBuCOLr9eGEoJ19vt5IOjqnoQiuDX6war7S3q9RWOOZSAA48aXTWOZh89zykhJ_bTJ7cs0_CHr6ZtEU2AcXz5DbgSw-VGKVjHK9_UP0WALK8PdB-ZRdYCX7O/s640/20110610-_DSC2857.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Even comfortable for Neil's lanky frame.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The rain eased so we made ourselves comfortable outside again, protected from occasional light showers by the canopy of leaves overhead. As the afternoon progressed, a few more tents popped up around the place.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6hihe02ARiY79VfgTuowTjYzTmq_jHkmdb8Qg2nHR_C0vP6jQ-2D1tN_NTEUD8WODtdyJSlqcT-rtKeLtTcfezc5CdmRSJ7B8gSlnOzITLMQIb7bhEeDpV0S0YQSqK4D8UbtW8PoHrGs/s1600/20110610-_DSC2866.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6hihe02ARiY79VfgTuowTjYzTmq_jHkmdb8Qg2nHR_C0vP6jQ-2D1tN_NTEUD8WODtdyJSlqcT-rtKeLtTcfezc5CdmRSJ7B8gSlnOzITLMQIb7bhEeDpV0S0YQSqK4D8UbtW8PoHrGs/s640/20110610-_DSC2866.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Peaceful afternoon.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVw0qdniD6Wai5Z2LqKDRztbq8n3uwbZWpJwdgs-927e0gLbIpsGD6yLPFDGpoif53gbYQKIXboP0VwrYbEN0ZvcGqrA9cAEgyV9wjyYR8jPkBxoQ-MHa0ASwKkzUfiEsFhF3tDMKI4Mz/s1600/20110610-_DSC2864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVw0qdniD6Wai5Z2LqKDRztbq8n3uwbZWpJwdgs-927e0gLbIpsGD6yLPFDGpoif53gbYQKIXboP0VwrYbEN0ZvcGqrA9cAEgyV9wjyYR8jPkBxoQ-MHa0ASwKkzUfiEsFhF3tDMKI4Mz/s640/20110610-_DSC2864.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Preparing fresh fava beans for dinner - using the crash pad as a table.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
As afternoon turned into evening the slow trickle of new tents increased and by Saturday morning they were popping up like mushrooms. We went for a climb Saturday morning, early, before most people had finished breakfast, then came back early and watched the tide of tents come in. By dark, just about every spare space was covered by some form of tenting. Look at the photo above then add another 11 tents just in this little corner and you have an idea. We were too busy people watching to take photos.<br />
<br />
Every conceivable style, shape and colour of tent was on display. There must have been well over one hundred tents. With almost as many languages being spoken. We heard British accents, Scottish, American, lots of German, Dutch, Belgian, Kiwi, Swedish and even some French. Between tents, where there was room, hammocks and slack lines (think tightrope but not tight, and not too high, for practising balance) were strung between trees. Lounge chairs made of crash pads were prevalent. Family groups, young students, old friends, squealing kids - we have never seen so many climbers in one place before. All sorts of food was being cooked, from two minute noodles on tiny camp stoves to elaborate production lines using a bank of gas stoves, as well as wood-fired barbeques that filled the woods with smoke and turned the sunset a deep blood red.<br />
<br />
Sunday we only went for a little amble in the forest because unfortunately what had started as a bit of a headache on Saturday, turned into a full-blown migraine which rendered me a gibbering mess. So, while I chilled in the tent with a wet face cloth over my eyes, Neil sat and watched the show.<br />
<br />
A couple of guys turned up with a unicycle and before long were exchanging rides of the unicycle with turns on the Swedish girls' slack line. An older climber showed some younger ones how to use their slack line and multiple bottles of beer and wine were consumed with gusto. Some English guys set up a crepe stall and invited everybody along. One of the Swedish girls had a lovely singing voice, even though we couldn't understand what she was singing about...it was all happening in climberville.<br />
<br />
Then the rain came down again. It poured through Sunday night and into Monday morning. The rain cleared late morning, and so did the camp ground. Dry patches among the leaves showed where tents had been as we too packed up to return to the gite for our last couple of weeks here. Headache calmed down, thankfully.<br />
<br />
*<br />
words by Gabby, pics by Neil and Gabby.Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-77818435290054347392011-06-09T11:48:00.001+02:002011-06-09T19:08:38.483+02:00Hunting for wild mushroomsShaded forest floor,<br />
a ray of light strikes ruby -<br />
plump, wild strawberry.<br />
<br />
<br />
Earlier this week found us closeted inside, watching the rain come down in sheets. Or, as they say here, il pleut des cordes - it rains ropes. It was badly needed, everywhere around is so dry. In the forest, sphagnum moss had dried brown and fallen away from rocks, leaves of trees and shrubs were covered in dust, muting their colours.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBok9jE4MqVbktUSFN7hfbwzhpvhDVDCfFTSwoZsd13rGAPq-EvXukby9bjk6VbF0mVPbQIuUI5jTba8c9t8QRqG1FgEthmTHyfi2WwJ-g6lktO0LYH0_cuaqLCOlYtoQE5c5f8GOTc-r/s1600/20110607-_DSC2713.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBok9jE4MqVbktUSFN7hfbwzhpvhDVDCfFTSwoZsd13rGAPq-EvXukby9bjk6VbF0mVPbQIuUI5jTba8c9t8QRqG1FgEthmTHyfi2WwJ-g6lktO0LYH0_cuaqLCOlYtoQE5c5f8GOTc-r/s640/20110607-_DSC2713.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Il pleut des cordes</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglFCXpGNdL1j7K5GpR1PYF1aAW1uVhpcWZeS-TGktZOG5M20cKcHXDlxI6A9a9c9wgH-1bKDYDwFLu5gZemTPNrUz9nKETL7VE-5B2RanL5kFJpJuTjKq_THMQJYqXRAXLuBgWzTevZ3bS/s1600/20110608-_DSC2718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglFCXpGNdL1j7K5GpR1PYF1aAW1uVhpcWZeS-TGktZOG5M20cKcHXDlxI6A9a9c9wgH-1bKDYDwFLu5gZemTPNrUz9nKETL7VE-5B2RanL5kFJpJuTjKq_THMQJYqXRAXLuBgWzTevZ3bS/s640/20110608-_DSC2718.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Rain tracks in the forest sands.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
A few days of rain has made a world of difference. Everything is sparkling clean. Even the sphagnum is green and springy once more. We hope that a decent rain and then some sunshine, will bring mushrooms. Alas, there are none to be found - where we are looking anyway. But we find edible treasure of a different kind - wild strawberries. So tiny but so full of flavour, we find them in quite a few places throughout the forest.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGdK3G2ph_x7qdWEGQRmCwEnwXStURZ5oPyY3PPl89cdPNMT-6LYCWgfhyx6FL3K8DRcCBvRPT7pIy8smlE6-lnNUgpYidp7tu67Mc9T4ubb0jRzeuPf2RI6fhSgCs8X4peqPC56mkTz-Q/s1600/20110608-_DSC2728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGdK3G2ph_x7qdWEGQRmCwEnwXStURZ5oPyY3PPl89cdPNMT-6LYCWgfhyx6FL3K8DRcCBvRPT7pIy8smlE6-lnNUgpYidp7tu67Mc9T4ubb0jRzeuPf2RI6fhSgCs8X4peqPC56mkTz-Q/s640/20110608-_DSC2728.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Aha !</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmk9oUpLFkuo4gPlvCgz2V56AvCB5wyemppaXmKju2jaHIkXL48IQwPvSh6myDNFdZKTMODVqkZ03Exa8TTH4MmD-Oom1Nl-2fGu23ele1NlJLNpN06bk0LIJiC23kj_Hvp-Ok_ioZyGKq/s1600/20110608-_DSC2720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmk9oUpLFkuo4gPlvCgz2V56AvCB5wyemppaXmKju2jaHIkXL48IQwPvSh6myDNFdZKTMODVqkZ03Exa8TTH4MmD-Oom1Nl-2fGu23ele1NlJLNpN06bk0LIJiC23kj_Hvp-Ok_ioZyGKq/s640/20110608-_DSC2720.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Tiny red globules - best seen from down low, they hide under the leaves.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZARQSbhcP5mE_-Y1S0Jh0Z-r3PIlMDCcIr20QjrVxR4NQqsJWojqIFzKxbL_4QLWEstHlaTgLdAWYHpSEtIVH1jY28IcBUmzlzV8QlFvuurYWTJxbYTHq2m25qTvIbKhS0KGateuyU8Bm/s1600/20110608-_DSC2724.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZARQSbhcP5mE_-Y1S0Jh0Z-r3PIlMDCcIr20QjrVxR4NQqsJWojqIFzKxbL_4QLWEstHlaTgLdAWYHpSEtIVH1jY28IcBUmzlzV8QlFvuurYWTJxbYTHq2m25qTvIbKhS0KGateuyU8Bm/s640/20110608-_DSC2724.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Wild strawberry a.k.a fraise du bois</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYcsxDsgUBts2LoASUdL_bJ-W5tTmBlw0oQis-fV7Ltd-tlo1wmjhI2EDZ4dMlwbWMuy6cNo8CfolKZ2x5o93pYfdequOT_PokgS8Pg018SRQuCpyAaBt5d-wD9EpEkXpdOzXparGFZMGy/s1600/20110608-_DSC2725.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYcsxDsgUBts2LoASUdL_bJ-W5tTmBlw0oQis-fV7Ltd-tlo1wmjhI2EDZ4dMlwbWMuy6cNo8CfolKZ2x5o93pYfdequOT_PokgS8Pg018SRQuCpyAaBt5d-wD9EpEkXpdOzXparGFZMGy/s640/20110608-_DSC2725.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>And no, Neil doesn't have a skin disease, that's climbing chalk.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
*<br />
words by Gabby, photos by Neil and GabbyNeil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-69042217061059855342011-06-04T17:38:00.006+02:002011-06-06T10:42:35.043+02:00A spot of gentle tourismA day out in town,<br />
ambling down green boulevards,<br />
shining summer sun.<br />
<br />
Leaving the forest to the hoards of climbers that have descended for the long week-end (Ascension week-end in this part of Europe), we decided on a spot of tourism. <b style="font-weight: normal;">Milly-la-Forêt is only 5km away, our nearest town, and for the last few weeks we have been meaning to go and have a good look around. Well known as a centre for medicinal plants and herbs, this week-end the town is hosting a Marché de l'Herboriste in it's 500 year old outdoor market hall. So we thought we'd go for a wander...</b><br />
<br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzszG1XQbQedIaAR6AySy2ypqROxq1wfvdQCg8QJKyXkn8yaQOESGinw1oDPGqIz0IZYNpscC4Ghi5lLn1IiDiCiDSL_OnG0SmV0rrOA5WGHCZ3oh9Am0Kc1z_MOR6EXK3UEQyQXfBt3k2/s1600/20110604-_DSC2689.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzszG1XQbQedIaAR6AySy2ypqROxq1wfvdQCg8QJKyXkn8yaQOESGinw1oDPGqIz0IZYNpscC4Ghi5lLn1IiDiCiDSL_OnG0SmV0rrOA5WGHCZ3oh9Am0Kc1z_MOR6EXK3UEQyQXfBt3k2/s640/20110604-_DSC2689.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>La porte du Moustier de Péronne.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;">La porte du Moustier de Péronne, the entrance gate to the estate granted by King Dagobert I, is pretty much all that is left of the initial settlement of </b><b style="font-weight: normal;">Milly-la-Forêt from the 600's. The round stone tower of the colombier (dove cote) which has an amazing 1200 alcoves for birds was built not much later, and is the only building that survived the destruction of the estate in the 1400's.</b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfq9q9oeJciirpPYisaT2EIeRwI2HatgrQRrcbzgN4RDDJHKFFJpPN3kOj__oLZdLTDRkSGEfwhtVzwuy3tO4qY1YS0sViAnEYdWb0qj8A2UzG4OMQEZNBMYzeQyzluQp8auSSiLp29ZRY/s1600/20110604-_DSC2643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfq9q9oeJciirpPYisaT2EIeRwI2HatgrQRrcbzgN4RDDJHKFFJpPN3kOj__oLZdLTDRkSGEfwhtVzwuy3tO4qY1YS0sViAnEYdWb0qj8A2UzG4OMQEZNBMYzeQyzluQp8auSSiLp29ZRY/s640/20110604-_DSC2643.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Awesome colombier (dove cote).</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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</b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;">We wandered along green boulevards under linden and chestnut trees that kept off the hot sun. The tree-lined boulevards circle around the town centre, having been planted in the filled-in ancient fortification ditches, Milly of the 18th and 19th centuries not having the same need for protection from armed bandits as in earlier times.</b><br />
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</b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;">On the southern edge of the town we visited the chapel of St Blaise des Simples, a 12th century chapel once part of a hospital for lepers (simples = medicinal herbs). It is a peaceful corner, surrounded by a medicinal herb garden. The interior of the chapel was repainted in 1959 by Jean Cocteau in a sympathetic, simple manner, celebrating both medicinal herbs (including the local Milly mint) and resurrection - it also contains his tomb. We didn't take any photographs inside, not wanting to disturb the serenity of the chapel for the other visitors.</b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCMAFZnw9uxjHMWdBnBX2Bck7Rfsw0sGYq_btnCVEk2rAp9_VflmbulKn8_tBdIqzfwQftPwB-chQYPULomE0jq9iIUI8Zx0A1jeRB2MAp3k86RIm1LpGu0X2la0jTmiNpB69EJgcCYuXa/s1600/20110604-_DSC2653.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCMAFZnw9uxjHMWdBnBX2Bck7Rfsw0sGYq_btnCVEk2rAp9_VflmbulKn8_tBdIqzfwQftPwB-chQYPULomE0jq9iIUI8Zx0A1jeRB2MAp3k86RIm1LpGu0X2la0jTmiNpB69EJgcCYuXa/s640/20110604-_DSC2653.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Well in the grounds of la chapelle Saint Blaise des simples.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHlsGBhe5OXxnpvf6mHqs3OsXR4m9NZJFEPiPFmPr5x45k8cqkr1Akz5Dq_sefTChjHyzVVJQBGcK-Bfm_O_PAr9Rz9gTcBT_2C4W7ELkERr1TRjvtqrU04RogsfMRq0Al9Kc2myDmrQ-/s1600/20110604-_DSC2659.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHlsGBhe5OXxnpvf6mHqs3OsXR4m9NZJFEPiPFmPr5x45k8cqkr1Akz5Dq_sefTChjHyzVVJQBGcK-Bfm_O_PAr9Rz9gTcBT_2C4W7ELkERr1TRjvtqrU04RogsfMRq0Al9Kc2myDmrQ-/s640/20110604-_DSC2659.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>You don't need much French to understand don't touch in case of deplorable accidents...</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje0RcjiE_s9LVbVs0iCGbw3WX3TKqiloUPNq3zcodoqnZmhC-w-v2jcdho0oznds0Xjf8wcG3amb_WmlUx-FaKTGzYkLxfEvUBvt8sT9EKcqh5s66gGT_F6H9GtCea9yU8jPJPzRZBjorK/s1600/20110604-_DSC2661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje0RcjiE_s9LVbVs0iCGbw3WX3TKqiloUPNq3zcodoqnZmhC-w-v2jcdho0oznds0Xjf8wcG3amb_WmlUx-FaKTGzYkLxfEvUBvt8sT9EKcqh5s66gGT_F6H9GtCea9yU8jPJPzRZBjorK/s640/20110604-_DSC2661.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Neil in the medicinal herb garden - he didn't touch anything.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc9ErkICjN5qpD7Q67xwSqloCkTtsAMVWRdx3fW3mF1jHOPYmsEl2b9DTln0JrAwQbZX7-deL_lKmtMKaZe_fXIz3Z8GoSH8Y3d8It7RxjHe5uUnEU4C_hTAC0-qXiCfnRhrIgAh9JnJo0/s1600/20110604-_DSC2668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc9ErkICjN5qpD7Q67xwSqloCkTtsAMVWRdx3fW3mF1jHOPYmsEl2b9DTln0JrAwQbZX7-deL_lKmtMKaZe_fXIz3Z8GoSH8Y3d8It7RxjHe5uUnEU4C_hTAC0-qXiCfnRhrIgAh9JnJo0/s640/20110604-_DSC2668.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Chapel doorway.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;">There are lots of pet dogs in France, which can be a bit of a problem in the towns. In </b><b style="font-weight: normal;">Milly-la-Forêt we saw a couple of efforts to combat this.</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0akpODUDWWReU8LiSb_xqALy6E6YZNMCZElwAz9Z6t6wkq8dj3q4qajvFqQuISJTnWAJBrOvlkKbnxuAQ7TFW9J6V9KE1-nPAQcYCLTKt66Wy_qCLrioYUZsm2JzeOpJOzo3Ot1Q2r_2A/s1600/20110604-_DSC2645.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0akpODUDWWReU8LiSb_xqALy6E6YZNMCZElwAz9Z6t6wkq8dj3q4qajvFqQuISJTnWAJBrOvlkKbnxuAQ7TFW9J6V9KE1-nPAQcYCLTKt66Wy_qCLrioYUZsm2JzeOpJOzo3Ot1Q2r_2A/s640/20110604-_DSC2645.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Canine public toilet.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHp_GZxFCAN-Yd7gLpGpcluAWrlcv1yYbjbsYdhtJX3eCcDrma0kO6CizHKr9ceTZkbNMOxGz7rQSp2YqoywW-Te_BGplMLUf5j0MLqnbWG6narhRTh4ECJQCD7Xi5Jxs8SHRakMcCadY/s1600/20110604-_DSC2669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHp_GZxFCAN-Yd7gLpGpcluAWrlcv1yYbjbsYdhtJX3eCcDrma0kO6CizHKr9ceTZkbNMOxGz7rQSp2YqoywW-Te_BGplMLUf5j0MLqnbWG6narhRTh4ECJQCD7Xi5Jxs8SHRakMcCadY/s640/20110604-_DSC2669.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">Très</span> <span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">drôle n'est pas ?</span></span></i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations"><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;">"</b><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">Très</span> <span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">drôle, n'est pas ?" is what an elderly French gentleman said to me as I was looking at the sign, before he also stopped to take a photo. So I guess these posters are not found in every town.</span></span><span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations"> </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5bbVlN5sLronuXXxD_F2209BW8F2EJ9txD9ZCWrTzXyhDqC6I00YwV2F88nblRFno0bGwpO7TuFVYkDrXxCB8crQKeQGwIgOqSqxYtfcYZ81v2ItMKjLVQMTDhm49S-piiJrvPnYi10-_/s1600/20110604-_DSC2675.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5bbVlN5sLronuXXxD_F2209BW8F2EJ9txD9ZCWrTzXyhDqC6I00YwV2F88nblRFno0bGwpO7TuFVYkDrXxCB8crQKeQGwIgOqSqxYtfcYZ81v2ItMKjLVQMTDhm49S-piiJrvPnYi10-_/s640/20110604-_DSC2675.jpg" width="422" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Pretty pale blue shutters.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmt6eKt4H_6zGM7owX1abPdTHXKN7CgrSHgDHGMWuJ3uCW74H8ujAhV_CpVKaGszeZIciypMggwkJd_rhnRXNAx3ZDBwESNJx1pMWRaw-0kSL1iqIBGv5mhjaji8c8xnV6SrrMrxtXXNL_/s1600/20110604-_DSC2674.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmt6eKt4H_6zGM7owX1abPdTHXKN7CgrSHgDHGMWuJ3uCW74H8ujAhV_CpVKaGszeZIciypMggwkJd_rhnRXNAx3ZDBwESNJx1pMWRaw-0kSL1iqIBGv5mhjaji8c8xnV6SrrMrxtXXNL_/s640/20110604-_DSC2674.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Blue shutters, grey stone and a 12th century church at the end of the street.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">On our weekly rides into Milly to do the grocery shopping, it is a pleasure just to be able to take the time to look around instead of hurrying here, hurrying there. I have seen, around windows and doors, shutters of almost every imaginable colour - white, cream, puce, violet, deep red, maroon, tan, dark brown, pale green, deep green and black. As well as the ubiquitous roses, in just as many colours, climbing up stone walls or just by in pots by front doors, they add a lovely touch of colour to the pale grey stone walls and buildings.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQSYFpwM5XQ5PDVgDDEvuIJFg1BareqK2qHKeto7ybYqu9OODeBfR5Y9ujrooT3Xfgd0Hoy6QEyW9Lee8uSXsMxRlrhf5KEc5qMZVAuIV9c3c7OyR_1iOx4HokTK53AcbdW4t40OZ94CAQ/s1600/20110604-_DSC2679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQSYFpwM5XQ5PDVgDDEvuIJFg1BareqK2qHKeto7ybYqu9OODeBfR5Y9ujrooT3Xfgd0Hoy6QEyW9Lee8uSXsMxRlrhf5KEc5qMZVAuIV9c3c7OyR_1iOx4HokTK53AcbdW4t40OZ94CAQ/s640/20110604-_DSC2679.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Street paved the old fashioned way, with central drain.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheDBv11C7rc07dpOBHs-BOx74vVhTdcvZHrjnfLJMjNVVxA9GRQtIBAGCEuxSlhi_1oJBVrUdkJXEpPRNG8rc_5pzvFBw7B-Dd7thFrZV5tdedC0WEx8o2c0QYCuDpJJWSZAudricaY-rq/s1600/20110604-_DSC2682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheDBv11C7rc07dpOBHs-BOx74vVhTdcvZHrjnfLJMjNVVxA9GRQtIBAGCEuxSlhi_1oJBVrUdkJXEpPRNG8rc_5pzvFBw7B-Dd7thFrZV5tdedC0WEx8o2c0QYCuDpJJWSZAudricaY-rq/s640/20110604-_DSC2682.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Milly castle (originally built 1300's, restored in 1475)</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg36t3ivmhPaukjTiMIwEPezfFmOnqt9K3QiepyG16h5K1BAYqjVe40OwTuVeyjnsDcW6T_lzpw3R7i1uY2M12mRCeMXNh25f8ll133Vww-GZsbcSqQPxsOZXlShKoBQGxCAQBISxzA5d-b/s1600/20110604-_DSC2687.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg36t3ivmhPaukjTiMIwEPezfFmOnqt9K3QiepyG16h5K1BAYqjVe40OwTuVeyjnsDcW6T_lzpw3R7i1uY2M12mRCeMXNh25f8ll133Vww-GZsbcSqQPxsOZXlShKoBQGxCAQBISxzA5d-b/s640/20110604-_DSC2687.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Medieval washing pond for laundry.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2YMijeX5afGOGfvyiq4q33-vO_l7phvUm5CI4uPKORMaz7kD0yH2MxBJUT_H3mIBEP26GVpMUyHpt-TffZRFhz6EnRDdNVEhgLT2AocRs2wWlIDOIbmiKSRg3NcdDv91Rp8eZa4NpJtLm/s1600/20110604-_DSC2693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2YMijeX5afGOGfvyiq4q33-vO_l7phvUm5CI4uPKORMaz7kD0yH2MxBJUT_H3mIBEP26GVpMUyHpt-TffZRFhz6EnRDdNVEhgLT2AocRs2wWlIDOIbmiKSRg3NcdDv91Rp8eZa4NpJtLm/s640/20110604-_DSC2693.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Thatched 'cottage'.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">We pass this house every time we go grocery shopping and it always amazes me. There is another immaculately thatched house right next door. I don't know if they are old or new but I just love the organic shape of the roof. In Normandy there was an area we passed through with quite a lot of thatched houses and they all had flowers planted along the ridge top !</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0qFYTRp3P7Jw8Jm20qkWmp7WlndH885RaHj0zypmLpojQB3FQ01OMMJyEco2cPsxqcsbW9-o6-UiW5Z_m3wWBotFA2B0PnSXW60GFgrz4R6XesMS6mhnB78cAZXjQfSGgdXuVnuGleJQ/s1600/20110604-_DSC2695.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0qFYTRp3P7Jw8Jm20qkWmp7WlndH885RaHj0zypmLpojQB3FQ01OMMJyEco2cPsxqcsbW9-o6-UiW5Z_m3wWBotFA2B0PnSXW60GFgrz4R6XesMS6mhnB78cAZXjQfSGgdXuVnuGleJQ/s640/20110604-_DSC2695.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Neil, waiting patiently.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">Now, earlier I mentioned that there was a market under the old hall. It was great - full of stalls of organic produce, medicinal herbs, books, plants, food. In fact we got so engrossed and so excited about our purchases - freshly baked baguettes, quiches and dessert - that we completely forgot to take any photos ! </span></span><br />
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<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">Oh well, there is also a fresh food market held under la halle every Thursday afternoon, as there has been for the past 500 odd years. So we'll just have to go back...</span></span><br />
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<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">*</span></span><br />
<span class="short_text" id="result_box" lang="fr"><span class="hps" title="Click for alternate translations">words by Gabby, pics by Neil and Gabby</span></span>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6155128343857990763.post-78389786568101227932011-05-29T12:12:00.001+02:002011-05-29T12:13:52.697+02:00Dreaming of Turkish delightOn Friday it rained<br />
we waited for the postie -<br />
but she never came.<br />
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There is a song that has been rattling around my head for a couple of weeks now. Unfortunately neither Neil nor I know anymore of the lyrics than "Istanbul not Constantinople" and "it's nobody's business but the Turks".<br />
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But it's enough - because that's where we're headed !<br />
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Earlier in May, while researching the next leg of our bike ride (which was to be down the Loire River to the Atlantic Ocean), I noticed that that particular bike path happens to be part of a much longer route - the Euro Velo 6. The Euro Velo 6 traverses Europe from the Atlantic Ocean, following the Loire, the Rhine and the Danube rivers all the way to the Black Sea. Which just happens to be just north of Istanbul. Hmmm...<br />
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This seed of a thought found fertile ground in which to sprout and, within 24 hours, had become rather triffid-like and taken over our travel plans. We decided to cycle to Istanbul.<br />
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(chorus) Istanbul, Istanbul, Istanbul...<br />
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Yesterday morning's post brought a long awaited parcel from Stanford's Maps. Pushing fresh croissants and pains au chocolat aside (no, that's not what we breakfast on everyday - just a Saturday treat), we just had to get our hands on the new maps.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsmmM4hDXIYGrkXCTJpIyJNCUWd4XHL07Xh2zHb9xfBpxhJjjZIj2Gl9SCnQxejdFGOm2JpKsHWPTCjSUXmuaeYXT0culCKnWrO1mXvC1FyBa6aMqQTHOXz6LItwCWKqSSGNyRiNa656q/s1600/20110528-_DSC2514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsmmM4hDXIYGrkXCTJpIyJNCUWd4XHL07Xh2zHb9xfBpxhJjjZIj2Gl9SCnQxejdFGOm2JpKsHWPTCjSUXmuaeYXT0culCKnWrO1mXvC1FyBa6aMqQTHOXz6LItwCWKqSSGNyRiNa656q/s640/20110528-_DSC2514.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Pushing breakfast off the table.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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It was with great restraint that we actually left home to go climbing yesterday (between rain and general laziness we've not climbed much this week). <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrFCRaa4MCQ5DKihas5S1okEI18xlzROwHxkkg_r4Vs3ucCpZSaxmLWTAmM1orDgKLx4riSNQA5iYyeQwAzHzwsGWMzPd1i1JQU6OeUGuaj_iJphLdHlVY_UFRRbw9QiZ1Nn7PUwIw-4M/s1600/20110528-_DSC2516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrFCRaa4MCQ5DKihas5S1okEI18xlzROwHxkkg_r4Vs3ucCpZSaxmLWTAmM1orDgKLx4riSNQA5iYyeQwAzHzwsGWMzPd1i1JQU6OeUGuaj_iJphLdHlVY_UFRRbw9QiZ1Nn7PUwIw-4M/s640/20110528-_DSC2516.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Mapaholics delight !</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTRsP1sVq-ztazszrcuxjL3SRjgAmd8KqQOJD0fyooF3RQxwy4R7DBPUDKJn1nauLk2UzPQieC-cwxnyfppcQxfw6BPu949tZipkW9dC-g63zdLBSMgMkb94sYpzt3mDeRadKeiiipvdT/s1600/20110528-_DSC2523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTRsP1sVq-ztazszrcuxjL3SRjgAmd8KqQOJD0fyooF3RQxwy4R7DBPUDKJn1nauLk2UzPQieC-cwxnyfppcQxfw6BPu949tZipkW9dC-g63zdLBSMgMkb94sYpzt3mDeRadKeiiipvdT/s640/20110528-_DSC2523.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Annotating the maps.</i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
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So after our morning playing in the forest, out came the maps and the notebook, the coffee (not Turkish, not yet) and the pencils, spread out on our al fresco workbench and the fun began.<br />
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It's nobody's business but the Turks...<br />
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*<br />
words by Gabby, images by Neil<br />
<span id="goog_122523854"></span><span id="goog_122523855"></span>Neil and Gabbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15584404234102581190noreply@blogger.com2