At Home, a rest day

A rest day today, reading and planning tours around Tuscany for the coming 2 weeks. 

We walked to the local markets at Piazza del Cure to stock up on fresh produce; called into the Coop for a couple of items, and into a patisserie for some fresh bread and a couple of sweet treats. We walked back along the little Fiume (can't find a name for it, maybe an offshoot of the Arno?) and took a few photos. The ducks we saw there a few days ago were absent - maybe they have flown south to warmer weather.

We sat on our little patio, adjoining, the garden, for a nice cup of tea with an apple and apricot tart.

There is still a bit of a brisk breeze, heralding winter, which we are hoping will go away for a week or two while we continue our exploration of Tuscany.

Lunch was fresh crusty bread with cheese and a pear for me, cheese salad and bread plus a plum for Lindy. Why does simple food taste so much better when you are away from home?

Lindy found a great sounding cooking tour (Walkabout Florence) for us to take, cost €80 each. We've booked for Tuesday 13th. Tomorrow we're booked to tour the Accademia del'arte, to see the original David. I've been before but it's well worth a second visit.

Exploring the Historical Centre of Florence

We did our last load of washing before we ventured out to explore the historical centre. Got to the bus stop when I remembered that in Italy, you don't pay the driver, you need to purchase tickets at a Tabac or news stand. There was a little news stand a few steps away so we purchased 2 tickets at €2.40 each.  Tickets have to be validated at a machine on the bus and we needed one ticket to go and one to return. Each ticket is valid on buses, trams, and trains, and lasts for 90 minutes, so I'm guessing that you can continue to travel on another bus, tram or train with the same ticket until the 90 minutes from validation is up.

The instructions for the stop we were to get off at weren't much use as the buses seemed to be deviating from their regular routes, so we travelled to the station at Santa Maria Novella, using our map to walk and navigate from there.

Our second stop was the Duomo - we'd called into the Piazza at Santa Maria Novella so Lindy could get some photos. There were crowds of people - one would almost think it was the height of the high season, rather than the end of it. It was so crowded that 2e didn't get to the front of the Baptistry to see the Gates of Paradise - that will have to wait for another visit.

We walked on, finding our way past lots of little shops, to the Piazza della Signoria. I wanted Lindy to see the statue of David here so she can compare it to the original, which we will see on Thursday.

After negotiating the crowds in the Piazza, we fought even more to get some photos of the Ponte Vecchio. 

We crossed the Arno there and wandered through part of the Oltrarno district. We found a few souvenirs and saw some beautiful artwork, particularly colourful, painted ceramics, and Lindy found a leather purse she was wanting.

We crossed back over the Ponte Vecchio and walked down to Santa Croce, where Michelangelo is buried. It was past lunchtime so we sat in the piazza (lucky to get some space on a stone,'bench') and ate the fruit we'd brought with us.

After a little rest, we decided to visit the church. The wind was picking up and it was getting a bit chilly - at least we'd warm up inside and maybe get to sit for awhile. We paid €6 each to go into the church, which has intricate beamed ceilings and some lovely stained glass windows. A number of other famous people are either buried here, or have memorials to them. We saw Marconi (inventor of the radio), Machiavelli and Dante Alighieri to name just a few. 

We also visited what had been the private chapel of the Medici family, and walked out into the garden. 

After our tour, we decided we were all seen enough for one day so walked down towards the river to follow it up a couple of bridges beyond the Ponte Vecchio. That led us to the station, where we could find our bus home. It didn't turn out to be that simple though (what is ever simple in Italy?) because the bus stop had been moved! There was a sign (in Italian only, and hard to read because it was up high and it kept blowing in the wind) that said that there were deviations in place. The buses listed at that stop now did not include ours! We faced a 45 minute walk home but Lindy suggested we look at the stops in the middle of the road. There we found another sign (again, hard to see or read because of its height and the wind) that announced that this was a temporary stop for line 1 - the bus we wanted. When the bus arrived, we asked the driver if it stopped at Maffei. Apparently I wasn't pronouncing it correctly but he corrected me (Maffay), shrugged and said 'si', very offhandedly. We took our seats and just hoped we would arrive home, and not be dropped in some out of the way place. Shortly before the bus left the stop, a very young and attractive French girl got on and asked the driver a question. He sat up straight and was very helpful. He must have felt a bit remorseful about treating us so poorly because he called out 'Maffei' when we reached our stop which, thankfully, was just across the little river from our street.

My head cold, which had been improving, worsened during the day (probably the wind) and I finished the day with a bit of a fever and a chesty cough. A day of rest tomorrow (except for a little walk in the local area) should see it improve. We have an appointment with David on Thursday and I'm not going to miss that.

Our Neighbourhood in Florence

We had some fun working out how to open the front door of our apartment to get out. Everything is so different here. Then there was the outer door to tackle, but there was an older lady there, with a little dog (named Leila) on a lead, who demonstrated for us. The doors are really quite simple, more simple than we are used to perhaps.

We explored the immediate neighbourhood, walking past patisseries and cheese shops filled with delicious sights and smells. There are lots of one-way streets around here. We walked along the Fiume (although it's more a chain of puddles than a river) and found the markets at Piazza del Cure - clothes, accessories and fresh produce - but didn't buy anything. We wanted the supermarket to stock up on basics and weren't sure about walking in there with bags of produce.

We had to ask for directions to the super Mercato because it wasn't obvious. Thankfully my Italian was up to the task and I understood her directions perfectly. The Italians, like the British, don't go in for large, ostentatious signs as we do so we were on top of the Coop (supermarket) before we knew it was there. The store is tiny, with narrow aisles. We collected the basics - tea, coffee, bread, milk, butter, cheese, meats, eggs and fresh produce - and stocked up on personal hygiene things we'd run out of. Totalled nearly €50, so a little more expensive than at home, but not by much.

A cloudy day and a bit cool, although the forecast was for 20 degrees. Back at the apartment we did some more washing and rested for the remainder of the day. I surfed the net for tickets and booked a tour of the Accademia for Thursday at €23.50 each. This is where we will see Michelangelo's David and many other important art works.

Our first dinner in our Florence apartment was pasta with pesto, and steamed vegetables, which we had both been hanging out for.

After dinner we had some fun watching a quiz show on TV. It seemed to be similar to 'The Weakest Link' and we surprised ourselves by correctly guessing what most of the answers were. Most times we managed to understand enough of the questions to have an intelligent guess!

to Florence

We were awake early (6:30) and left our hotel at 8 a.m. 

Keen to get to our next stop - Florence - we were still eager to see more of Venice, so we stopped here and there on our walk to the station to take some last photographs.

At the station, we sat and waited for two hours for our train. We knew we'd be early but preferred that to rushing. While we sat and waited, we enjoyed breakfast - coffee and a croissant - from the bar.

The train trip was uneventful - a young man offered to lift our cases up overhead for us and we thanked him. He held out his hand and we realised he expected a tip. Gave him a couple of euro. No doubt he got off before the train left, probably does that for a living.

We arrived into Florence at 12:30 and again faced a long wait. Check in time at our apartment was 4 p.m. and as it was only a short bus or taxi ride away, we went over to McDonald's (it seemed to be the only place nearby) to sit and eat away some of the time. It was packed, and nothing like our McDonalds at home - not that I frequent Maccas. However, we hovered for a bit then grabbed a table for two. Lindy sat with our bags while I went and bought us a large fries and a milkshake each - €8.60! 

After we'd finished, we decided to go back to the station to wait - maybe we could find some seats there. Fat chance. We are not pushy people but we ended up doing what everyone else was, hovering until something came free and then rushing for it. Missed a couple of chances - one a man and his teenage son - and ended up sitting on what seemed to be two 'table's between some seats. The seats were definitely not built for comfort anyway. We people watched for awhile and saw an elderly nun forced to stand, an elderly man miss a seat (a young woman dashed in front of him), and a bent over old lady with a walking stick refused a seat a man was minding for his wife! These people had no manners, we thought.

The station was crazily busy and we soon learnt why. There were countless trains running late, both arriving and departing, so many hundreds of people were hovering, waiting. At last, it was 3 p.m. and we decided to join the taxi line. As we left the station, we noticed (when it was too late) that there was a bookstore with a cafe where we could have sat!

The taxi cost us €15 but was worth it, we didn't feel like battling to lift our bags onto a bus. We arrived at the apartment at 3;35, knowing we'd have a bit of a wait, but Antonella, Carmilla's mother, arrived 5 minutes later, with her husband, Sergio. They showed us in, collected the city tax from us, explained everything, answered the couple of questions we had (lots of sign language as their English as limited as my Italian), then left us to it. There was a welcome basket on the table - tea, coffee, biscuits and fruit - and in the pantry some rice and pasta. Tomorrow we will shop.

The first thing we did after Sergio and Arabella left? We put a load of washing on! We've been away from home for 12 days now and have worn some of our outer clothes a few times. We managed to wash our smalls out as we went, planning to find a self-serve laundry in the UK but they were as scarce as hen's teeth. The couple we did find on the net were not open when we were in their area. Lindy is quite relieved that there is a hair dryer here, she was quite missing having one.

The second thing we did? We made a cup of tea and sat out in the garden, listening to the breeze ruffling the leaves in the bushes and trees. The small garden is private and has some fruit trees (too late for us), tomatoes, flowers, and a pond with turtles. Very peaceful place -- we are going to love it here.

Another Day in Venice

We set our early to avoid the worst of the crowds we were sure would be flocking to San Marco to take the boat to Murano. Lindy had the bright idea of photographing each intersection we came to so that we would find our way back to our hotel more easily. 

We found another bar for our breakfast and enjoyed juice, coffee and a croissant for €5. Fortified we set off for the Piazza, aiming to be on a boat by 10 a.m. Ha! Everyone else had the same idea it seemed, but eventually, we were at the correct wharf. I purchased our tickets, using my Italian and for the first time, to my surprise, I was answered in Italian, not English. 

We saw a boat pulled into our wharf and hurried down the gangplank, joining the group of people lined up there. There were actually two gangplanks, and another that was closed. A man was sitting inside smoking a cigarette. Probably the driver I said. we went up one gangplank and joined some people inside. There was a division down the middle - those using the gangplank we'd used on our side and people on the other side. We couldn't understand why. This is different to the boat I remember taking when I was last here, I said to Lindy. That boat was much bigger, and it had seats in rows. This one had just some wooden benches around the side.

Puzzled, knowing we still had time according to the time posted at the entry, we got off and looked up on the side of the boat. One side said 14, the other 7. Our boat was number 14. How would this work we wondered? As we stood there, trying to figure it out, a stream of people began to come through the gangplank that was closed to us. This is like one of those 'see how many people we can fit into a phone box' things, Lindy said. It was then that we saw that, unbeknownst to us, a boat had come in and tied up outside our 'boat'. That's when the penny dropped. Our 'boat' was not a boat at all; it was a floating pontoon, a waiting area. Feeling mortified, and hoping that no-one nearby heard us debating, we passed through the correct gate onto the pontoon and from there onto the boat.

It was a long trip to Murano. We called at every stop around the canal. Impossible to take any photos - the windows were very streaky, and water occasionally splashed through. The boat was packed, but we managed to find a seat after people got off at the first stop.

Arrived in Murano at around 11 a.m., and joined thousands of people already there. 

We strolled along, enjoying the sights, the water, the bridges and the flowers until we came to a furno. We stopped off there to see some glass being blown. We had to wait for one show to be over, then paid €5 to sit and watch an amazing demonstration. The artist blew a two-handled vase and then a horse. Lindy looked through the shop for something to buy but couldn't see anything she liked. 

We continued on our way, looking at shops and crossing bridges, working our way to the other side of the island to catch the boat for Burano. That boat was even more crowded than the other and we had to stand, clutching whatever we could to keep our balance. By this time I was feeling a bit queasy (I had the movement of boats) so tried to stay near the fresh air. 

Burano is a picture, all the houses painted different colours. 

A lot of the lace we saw was machine made but lovely all the same as it's made on the island. Lindy did see a couple of pieces she liked but when we asked the price, way out of our price range. €100 each! The lady explained that she had made them herself, by hand, and it took many hours. Regretfully, Lindy said no and we moved on. 

We found a nice little patisserie and bought some chicken and chips and sat on a bench outside, alongside the canal, to eat. Then we continued our way across the island back to the boat for Murano. While waiting for the boat, we had a gelato. Again, the boat was crowded but the trip to Murano was short. Another walk across Murano to our boat for San Marco. That boat ride was much shorter than the one over because it cut straight across the canal, missing all the stops we'd made on the way over.

The Piazza was packed, wall to wall people, and it took time and great effort to wade our way through to the street we needed to walk back to our hotel. We were quite worn out by the time we got back, and rested on our beds for awhile before going back out to eat. We weren't hungry so went back to the same patisserie we'd been to the previous night and had a coffee and a sweet treat. We also bought a meringue each to take back to our room, where we packed up ready for an early start on the morrow.

Venice

I slept reasonably well, my throat not as raw, but I did wake a couple of times for nose blowing and to suck on a lozenges/have a drink of water. We dawdled in bed for a bit because there are no tea making facilities in Italian hotels and we had to wait for somewhere to open for breakfast.

We left our hotel around 9 a.m. and found a nice little place for a croissant (apricot jam in the middle) and coffee. Then we set out to find S.Marco. We'd been told to just follow the signs, thinking that we would just reverse the signs on the way back. We stopped at a campo to sit for awhile and bought some postcards. We spoke to a young woman, from France, who said our English was very clear and she could understand us quite well, which was not always the case for her as some people ran their words together.

I found a farmacia where I bought some more lozenges and some cold/flu medicine. Then we found a post office, but the line was taking too long to move so decided to buy stamps next day and post at the same time. (Posting boxes are inside the post office here.) I then found a shop to buy some fazzoletti (tissues) as I'd run out with all my nose blowing.

All the places we walked were lined with shops, selling everything from leather to glass, clothing, and food.We saw a little store that sold fridge magnets, and I bought 6 for €5 and Lindy a spoon for Tracy Bell. Then we came across a shop with stuff for kids, and Lindy bought a little Pinnochio for Ryan.

We finally reached Piazza San Marco, which was packed with people. I heard one man comment that 'this is madness' and he was right. Lindy managed to get a few shots and we moved on to the wharf to find where we would get a boat to Murano and Burano the next day. On the way, we found some artists had set up stalls and bought one small watercolour each (€10 each or two for €15).

By this time it was midday, so we decided to walk back to our hotel for a rest before venturing out for the evening. We began following the signs in reverse but soon realised we were going in circles. It got so that everywhere we went we had the feeling we'd been there before, but whether it was on our way out that morning, or just then, as we were trying to find our way, we didn't know. We were sure we were in the right area, but reading maps here is almost impossible. The streets twist around on themselves, and the bridges all look the same. We saw a lot of people doing as we were, studying maps, looms around for signs, scratching their heads and looking puzzled. We were also by this time desperate for a toilet. Kept seeing WC signs but they never actually led to a toilet! We recon led it was a trick to get you to visit a bar or restaurant, where toilets were available but only for customers.

After 2 hours of this we finally chanced upon the bridge we wanted, and from there it was just a few metres, and we had arrived. 

We shot upstairs for the toilet and then collapsed on our beds (now separated) and sighed with relief. 

Later, we set out again but this time stayed on the straight and narrow path in front of our hotel. We bought a gelato each and stopped alongside the canal to eat. Then we found a little store - bakery, liquor, hot drinks - and bought a cannoli each. Lindy had pistachio, and I had chocolate. She had tea, and I had flat white coffee. We also bought a block of chocolate. We figured this would be dinner.

wE Returned to our room at 7 p.m. to catch up on postcards, email, Facebook and our diary entries.

To Venice

We both had a restless night's sleep, Lindy because she had a neck ache and a slight headache, me because of a sore throat. Woke late (for us), at just after 7 but considering the time difference, it was 6 a.m. in England.

Breakfast was below ground level, in a lovely room that had an arched ceiling (as many rooms in Italy do). We had a choice of bread to toast and various jams and hazelnut spread, crispbread, cheese, ham, cereal, fruit (fresh water melon or tinned mixed), juice, coffee or tea. We were surrounded by a variety of languages, French, Italian, English, German or Dutch, and Chinese. 

After breakfast, we returned to our room to pack and rest before checking out at 11 a.m. Our train doesn't leave until 3:50 so we asked if we could sit in the hotel lounge for an hour. Lovely tiles in patterns on the floor, columns and statues, with very elegant lounge chairs. At midday, we left to walk to the station to find our train for Venice. With a couple of hours to fill, we found a relatively quiet spot to sit and read. I left Lindy with our bags and went for a walk. Bought some water and throat lozenges and saw where we would have to wait for our train departure platform number to be advised.

We found our train departure platform with no problems and our carriage and seats. The train left on time. We left our luggage at the end of the train but saw that many people wheeled theirs along and left it near their seats. Toilets behind us not in service, the one at the other end of the carriage had no paper.

Lindy and I both read our books, me between nose blowing. Cold and throat worse. The train was late into Venice, and we faced a walk along unfamiliar paths in the dark luckily we had taken a screen shot of the route when we had the internet in Rome. Lindy did a good job guiding us to Albergo Casa Peron, with only one slight wrong turn. We finally booked in at almost 9 p.m. and discovered that we were in a double bed. We're told that beds could be separated next day. Dropped our bags in our room, and went next door for dinner (The Dolphin), where I had pizza and a glass of the house red (very nice) and Lindy lasagne.

Our room is on the first floor and looks out over the 'street'. We left the windows and shutters open for fresh air but had to shut them for the noise. Double glazing meant most of the sound was muffled.

Rome

It was a pleasant flight from Gatwick to Rome, although we had a bit of a wait for our luggage. The train from the airport to the city was €14 each and took 35 minutes. We arrived at Roma Termini at around 2 p.m. and walked straight out onto the street our Hotel is situated, Via Giolotti, which runs parallel to the railway. We faced a long walk through some very grotty areas and over cobbled and some potholed walkways. We were pleased when we arrived at the Hotel Tempio di Pallade to see that the area down that end of the street is much nicer.

Check in time is posted as 13:00 hours (1 p.m.) but when we arrived at 2:30, we were told that our room wasn't ready, could we come back in an hour or so? The young man on reception was very apologetic and pleasant, and he took our bags to the luggage room, so after paying the city tax (€4 each) and €3 for the wifi (for 24 hours for one device only) we set out to explore the area around us.

There are a number of small restaurants around our hotel, and we checked out the menus and prices. They all seemed similar, around €10 for a pasta dish.

Just around the corner is what looks like the tram terminus and behind them an old Roman gate and old walls, some ancient, some not quite so old. We decided to cross the road to get closer for photographs without tramlines cutting through them.

In Rome, a green walk sign does not mean that the vehicles can't go ahead, nor does a red light necessarily mean stop. Crossing any road here is to take your life into your hands - pedestrian crossings are often ignored by drivers.

We managed to get a few photographs then called into a small shop for some cold drinks. Before ringing up the sale, the cashier asked if we would be taking away. We said yes. When we got outside, Lindy asked me what was the difference. I told her that if you sit to eat or drink, you will pay extra. We also looked at some postcards at a little booth a bit further on. There was no price marked on the stand. I said that you have to ask - mostly if there is no price they will charge you whatever they feel like at the time.

We got back to our hotel at 3:45 and had just sat down in the lounge when we were told our room was ready. Room 121, I thought he said. We were relieved, although one flight of stairs sounded a lot to two weary travellers. He collected our luggage, and as I went to walk upstairs, he said we could use the lift. We hadn't noticed it! What a relief. We got to room 121, but the key wouldn't work. Lindy asked if I had the right room. We looked at the key. It was 131, just a couple of doors away.

Very small, but firm beds. No tea making facilities but we're not too fussed. Breakfast is included in the cost of the room, just €50 for the two of us.

The rain appeared to be easing around 6:30 so we set out to walk a block to a nearby restaurant, but got caught in a heavy shower and arrived looking a bit bedraggled. It was a nice dinner though. I had fettuccine with meant sauce and Lindy had a Buccatine. With mineral water and the cover charge, it cost €23.00.

Back at the hotel, it was a little cooler, so we shut the window. The road outside had become a bit busier, so an added bonus was the silence.

We both had a restless night's sleep, Lindy because she had a neck ache and a slight headache, me because of a sore throat. We woke late (for us), at just after 7 but considering the time difference; it was 6 a.m. in England.

Breakfast was below ground level, in a lovely room that had an arched ceiling (as many rooms in Italy do). We had a choice of bread to toast and various jams and hazelnut spread, crispbread, cheese, ham, cereal, fruit (fresh water melon or tinned mixed), juice, coffee or tea. We were surrounded by a variety of languages, French, Italian, English, German or Dutch, and Chinese.

After breakfast, we returned to our room to pack and rest before checking out at 11am. Our train doesn't leave until 3:50 so we asked if we could sit in the hotel lounge for an hour. Lovely tiles in patterns on the floor, columns and statues, with very elegant lounge chairs. At midday, we  left to walk to the station to find our train for Venice. With a couple of hours to fill, we found a relatively quiet spot to sit and read. I left Lindy with our bags and went for a walk. Bought some water and throat lozenges and saw where we would have to wait for our train departure platform number to be advised.

Gatwick

What a day! Pouring rain and a low black sky that threatened us when the rain did stop - briefly -  now and again. The traffic was bad in patches on the M25 as we skirted London to the west and drove further south. We had become used to our useless GPS, but it didn't matter, the roads were well signed for Gatwick. However, we did have two problems to overcome. Firstly, when I'd reserved our hire car, I arranged to return it to their Gatwick North Terminal depot, very handy to the hotel we had booked and to the terminal we were leaving from. Unfortunately, since reserving our car, that depot had closed, and we were to return it to the depot at the South terminal. We had no idea of how far apart the two terminals were. Secondly, we had been told that the hotel we'd booked had no car park, only a quick drop off point. We decided to drop the car off first, and then to find our way to the hotel later, figuring that it couldn't be too hard to move from one terminal to the other, even in the rain.

After driving around one large roundabout a couple of times, trying to get into the right lane, we drove into the terminal area, trying to see where we had to go to return the car. The way was not signed very well, and I had to do some quick lane changes, just trusting that others on the road would be steering clear of this crazy driver. After one quick reversing manoeuvre we arrived at the rental return area - still pouring rain - which was a small lot filled with cars. There were signs in each parking bay for all the car rental companies, not in any order as far as we could see. As we drove around (with a few other confused drivers) we passed a small break in a wire fence and saw a small sign - 'Avis and Budget returns here' - beside a narrow break in the parked cars. We had arrived!

The young man signing the car in pointed us towards the area he said we'd find the shuttle to the North Terminal. By the time we got our bags and other gear from the car and reached a covered walkway, we were soaked. We sloshed through the water until we reached a travelling walkway that took us into the terminal. From there, we followed the signs to the North Terminal, travelling on another moving walkway, then on a monorail. At the North Terminal (at last!) we looked for the covered walkway the hotel advertised as the way from the terminal to their hotel. We couldn't find it so had to brave the road and footpath. We reached a door that had a sign, with an arrow pointing the way to the hotel entrance - around the corner. By this time we didn't care what we looked like, we just wanted to be dry. 

When we got to reception, when we asked about the covered walkway, we were shown the way we'd come. It was covered, we were told, once you went out of the hotel and crossed the road! We were an hour early for booking in, but I think they took pity on us because they let us book in immediately. We asked for an iron, so we could iron our crumpled clothes and asked if they had laundry facilities. That's something we've missed, not being able to wash our clothes. It would make a nice business for someone we reckon, putting some sort of laundry near hotels. (Lindy reminded me of the laundry someone in Brisbane set up for the homeless!)

The restaurant in this hotel is by reservation only, so we reserved a table for 6:30. We had some coins to get rid of so decided to splurge out. We had a lovely chicken curry, and then shared a dessert called chocalot. It came in a huge bowl, chocolate and vanilla ice cream, chocolate sprinkles, fudge bits, cream, rolled wafer biscuits and chocolate flakes! Decadent to say the least. We couldn't finish it all. We paid with cash to help get rid of the last of our coins, with £2 left over as a tip for our waitress. Then we staggered off to bed - have to be up early for our flight to Rome - we were told it takes some time to get through security here.

London

I woke before six after a restless night. It was way too hot in our room, even though we had the window open. Unfortunately, it would only open a little way. At least my smalls dried!

Breakfast was fruit, coffee and a chocolate covered biscuit. We planned on having morning tea and then a late lunch in London.

Our taxi arrived in plenty of time, and we were at Peterborough railway station by 8:45, although it cost £9 for a 10-minute road trip! We then had some difficulty working out how trains work here. Apparently, there are a couple of companies; one operates the slow trains and the other the fast. After talking to a station staff member, we went to the counter to buy our tickets, rather than fight with the machines, which couldn't answer our questions, like, what's the difference in prices (cheapest £27.50 to dearest £56), off-peak (leave after 9 a.m., depart London before 4:45 p.m.). We bought our tickets, the cheapest, and then tried to see which platform our train would leave from. Impossible to figure out, so we asked a railway worker. 

Once on the platform (1), we found a warm waiting room. The train was on time - at least we thought it was our train, we can't understand a word the announcer is saying, except for ‘Terminates here’. We seat ourselves and hope that we are in the right carriage - our tickets say standard, so we gather that's cattle class. Doesn't seem like first class.

We arrived at London Kings Cross Station to heavy skies. 

We found the Big Red bus stops and purchased tickets, which were daylight robbery at £30 each (tour of river included) with no seniors' discount. We then discovered that the bus we were on was the black line, which we had to leave at Marble Arch for the blue or red Line.

There was an automated voice giving a run down on places we passed, most of which we couldn't see because of the thick traffic. We began at the top of the bus, but it got too cold and began to rain, so we moved downstairs. The traffic was getting thicker, and it was very slow, so it was 11:30 a.m. before we got to Marble Arch. We asked if the bus was going anywhere near the Imperial War Museum and were assured it was. There was no automated voice on the red bus, but a guide upstairs who spoke about the places we passed. He seemed to be talking specifically to those he could see, not us!

He mentioned the IWM then went onto something else. I asked the driver where we should get off, and he said I should go upstairs and ask the man up there. I did, and he said it was where he'd mentioned the war museum. But you didn't say 'this is the stop for' I said as I went back down. We got off and began to ask people where we had to go to see Churchill's War Rooms. The second man we asked knew, and he told us to walk down 3 blocks, past Westminster and Big Ben on our right, and it would be on our right. He was almost right. There was a long line, of course, and then it began to rain, so we huddled into our coats and waited. We weren't going to give up after the trouble we'd gone to, to get there.

It was only a wait of about 15 minutes, and we were inside, then downstairs to buy our tickets. A concession there at least, £14.40 instead of £18. Very interesting place and we spent a lot of time in there, breaking the tour with lunch - vegetable soup (heavy on the pumpkin and carrot) with a bread roll, our first choice of a baked potato and chilli beans being off the menu. By the time we finished in there, we just had time to hurry down to the river for our river cruise, a half hour trip to Tower Bridge. The roof leaked and we'd just moved seats to escape a drip when a bucket load of water that had built up descended on the seats we'd just vacated. A lucky escape.

When we got to the Tower, our trip ended, and we were getting anxious. Our train ticket back to Peterborough had to be used before 4:45 p.m, and it was 3 o'clock. Considering how long it had taken to get where we were, we doubted we'd get back to Kings Cross in time. We kept following the signs for buses but couldn't see any stops. Eventually saw a lot of people waiting and joined them. 

A big red bus eventually came along, but we were stopped from boarding - different bus company we were told. Every bus that came along was for this company, even though the sign said it was a stop for The Original Big Bus Company. We hadn't realised there was more than one company - I'm sure that wasn't the case 10 years ago. Time was marching on so we decided to head for the underground and take a train to Kings Cross Station. After some consultation with a station staff member, we went to the machine and finally got it to accept our request for tickets to Kings Cross on the circle line. Two adults at £4.80 each to go a total of 5 stops! More daylight robbery.

Once at Kings Cross we had to find our way to the northern line, then find,the boards to see where to catch our train. Found that and saw that the train was leaving at 16:40, just 5 minutes before our deadline. Phew! But no platform number was listed, so we had to wait. While waiting, we bought some coffee, Lindy a 'coo-kee' and me some popcorn. Then to platform 5. I got through the turnstile, okay but Lindy couldn't. Had to get some assistance. Rush to train, found seats, and big sigh!

If I had to see London again, I'd not go on a big red bus tour. Instead, I'd recommend buying an all day underground pass to travel from station to station to see those things you particularly want to see. Most tourist maps indicate which underground stations are near which attraction. This will give you a better feel for the city and get you around to see more of it. As well as being quicker and less stress-free, it would be more cost effective.

South towards London

We woke to heavy fog, and dire weather forecasts so delayed our departure from Dalesgate for an hour or so. Wifi was impossible in our room, so we sat on the stairs to try to send email and post to Facebook. Later, to fill in more time, we enjoyed another English breakfast.

Despite the weather warnings, the fog did begin to clear, so we set off for the next leg of our journey, to an area called Yorks. According to the census material I'd managed to access, the Booth family, those of our Grandmother's era at least, were born in this area, in various places around Parkgate. There were many mines in this area, and our Great Grandfather was listed on the census as a miner. We had one actual address in Parkgate so drove to that street, only to find that number 93 no longer exists. There was a short row of houses at one end, at the other business yards behind high wire fences. But the house the family lived in would have been similar to those that remained, so we took a photo of them and then continued on our way. 

We left the glimpses we'd had of the moors, and the little county lanes and villages behind, and drove south. We were going to Petersborough, which was about as close as we could get to London for a place to stay to suit our budget. I had seen London a few times previously and didn't particularly want to go again, but Lindy had never been and of course wanted to see it.   

Once again, our GPS was unreliable. It would not accept the address 'Norman Cross' so we settled for the coordinates and hoped it would get us close. It did, but it still took a phone call to the Premier Inn to finally find them. Somehow they were in Yakesly, although that wasn't their address. 

We hadn't stopped for lunch so opted for dinner in Thyme, the Inn's restaurant. I ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio and was a bit dumbfounded to be asked if I wanted a small, regular or large glass. I said I just want an ordinary sized glass of wine. The waitress said, 'regular then'. What she brought me was a small glass filled to the brim! Delicious meal, although we were discovering that food prices in the UK are much more expensive than in Australia. The chicken Caesar salad I had, along with the wine, cost the equivalent of about $28.

Brontè Country

The drive to Haworth took us through some lovely villages, with homes right on the roadside. The road was very narrow in parts, giving Lindy some heart stopping moments. Lindy was afraid that if someone opened their door and stepped out as we drove by, we'd take them and their door with us!

It's been 8 years since I was last in Haworth and while the village hasn't changed that much, the Bronte museum has grown. Lindy and I went through the old church graveyard first, then into the house, which is full of Bronté memorabilia. We couldn't get into the school house, as I did before because there was a wedding reception going on. We bought some Turkish delight and barley sugar from the Old Sweet Shop, then sat down for a 'cream tea' which is a pot of tea with scones, jam and cream.

After two hours, we were ready to drive to our hotel for the night, the Dalesgate. It was only about 5 miles away but when we were almost there we came across a road that had been closed to traffic, so had to travel miles out of our way to come in from the other direction. The Dalesgate is a lovely place, built of the local stone, which is pale and warm looking. Our rooms are below ground but we didn't have to worry about stairs because our room was level with the car park at the back.

Lindy went to the bathroom but was soon calling for help – again! What is it about the bathrooms here in England? She asked me how I thought the soap dispenser worked. It was Dove Cleanser and we squeezed and pushed and pulled it to no avail. Lindy had already tried all that and all she succeeded in doing was detaching the whole thing from the wall. We finally found that you have to squeeze the container up near the top. Lindy tried, but she needed two hands to squeeze the hard container, which wasn't very successful as she then didn't have a spare hand left to catch the soap! 

Then it was the toilet roll, which was situated a long stretch away on the opposite wall. When one reached over to tear off a few sections, the roll kept unrolling so by the time you had a hand free to stop it half the roll was piled on the floor. 

The shower was a rubber Y piece attached to the faucets, with a hand-held shower head. The rubber piece wasn't very long so we were puzzled about how one would go about having a shower. Lindy insisted that this time, I had to go first and work it out for her. I had to half crouch down with my back to the wall so that the water didn't go everywhere. Despite my care, most of the bathroom - and my dry clothes - got washed along with me.

It soon became obvious to us that the English prefer baths to showers.

We went for a nice long walk to stretch our legs. The countryside is lovely, green rolling hills and quaint stone houses. There wasn't much room on the footpath, and every time a car came along, we had to move to single file. All of the houses had a tiny area in front, for a garden, and some were lovely. It's surprising how many plants, shrubs and trees one can fit in a tiny space, and how much variety there can be here. At home, we'd have to stick to a reliable few, and even those would die off in the heat.

After our huge breakfast, and then afternoon cream tea at Haworth, we didn't feel hungry so opted for a piece of fruit, and biscuit and a cup of tea, before going to bed.

Bootle to Blackpool

On the way to Blackpool, we drove into Bootle, Merseyside (Liverpool), which is where the Jacksons came from. (Jackson was our mother's maiden name.) The street they lived in is no longer there but we got a good sense of the area. It's a very poor area, no different really from when our ancestors lived there, according to my research.

We drove on from there towards Blackpool, on some lovely quiet roads, and through some quaint villages with some doors opening almost onto the street. Our GPS was better behaved (or we are getting used to her) until near the end of our journey when she neglected to tell us that after turning right at one point we would need to be in the far left lane to almost immediately turn left. I indicated and began to move over, only to step hard on the brakes as one idiot came from nowhere at well over the speed limit. He missed us by a whisker.

Driving down into Blackpool was a nightmare, with one-way streets, endless rows of cars, both parked and moving, and crowds of people. I'd been to Blackpool before, but it hadn't been as busy then. We were visiting Blackpool only to see where our Grandmother's family lived until they left for Australia in the mid-1920s.

We had to drive beyond The Albany, on a one-way street, because there were no parking spots free for some distance. We put 50p into the machine, for half an hour, until we found out where the car park was. When we came inside to check in, we were told that because we had booked online, we were at the top. More stairs! When I asked about parking (I'd requested it when booking), I was told that parking couldn't be reserved online, that it has to be done direct. How antiquated is that? However, the receptionist told us, the owner could possibly have a spot for us, but we'd have to wait until he returned. We returned to the car and collected just enough stuff for the night and next day and returned to trudge our way up endless stairs.

I walked downstairs again to see the owner, who agreed to park our car in his private car park, for £5. I gave him the key, then walked back upstairs to collect £5, down again to pay him. He told me that there was to be a light show on 'the front' (which is what they call the area in front of the sea) that evening, so Lindy and I decided to go. We also thought fish and chips was in order for dinner, but before that, we needed to find High Street, granny's family home. We asked at reception if there was a map or any brochures, but all we got was 'no', so we asked if there is a tourist bureau. On the front, was the answer, so off we went. 

The Front was packed with people either standing, sitting on low stone walls, or walking to and fro. There were cars and trams and booths where one could buy all sorts of laser lights and fairground sort of stuff. The ocean was very quiet, not seeming to move at all. It was high tide, and the only 'beach' we saw was mud. There were seagulls everywhere. 

We finally found the Info Centre and were given a map of the city. I had an idea of where High Street was but 10 years is a long time, and there are a lot more high rise buildings now. 

We found the house and rang the bell. We told the young woman who answered the story of the house and showed her the old photos we had. I had hoped she'd invite us in, but we could hear a child in the background, and she seemed anxious to go. She did give us permission to take photos, so we did.

As the family story goes, our great grandmother and great grandfather bought this house to run as a boarding house after great grandfather was injured in a mining accident. After they had purchased it, they found out that it had previously been a house of ill repute. Great Grandma took to emptying a bucket of water from the upper floor onto the single men who rang the doorbell at all hours. They soon got the message.

After taking our photos, we thought we'd find the library so we could use the Internet to find a map that showed the church where they were married. Although we asked for directions to the library, we never did find it, so back to the Albany we went, and up those dreaded stairs once again. On the way, we called into a supermarket and collected a few supplies.

At 7:15 we set off to find dinner. Lindy had fish and chips; I opted for chicken and chips instead. The little fish and chip shop was crowded and noisy, but the food was delicious. When we left the crowds had swelled considerably and down on the front it was wall to wall people, including kids, babies and dogs. The whole street was lit up, and so were a few vehicles. Sideshow alley was in full swing.The Tower was lit up with changing laser lights, and still, the crowds came. At 8:30 the fireworks began. This is apparently an annual event, where teams set up firework displays and are judged each week to find,the best. Tonight it was France. Next week, we were told it would be Canada.

Once the fireworks were finished, we escaped to the relative quiet of our hotel. I say 'relative' because in Blackpool, if it's not a freezing night, most people spend the evening hours on the front steps of their houses and we could hear them talking and laughing well into the night.

I don't know what it is about the English and their bathrooms, but as usual, we had a struggle with the shower. At the Albany, there were no taps. The dial on the box on the wall of the shower stall was at stop, so I moved it around, but still no water. My turn to call for help. We figured out that the red switch on the wall outside the bathroom door was to turn the water on! Success. Wouldn't you think there would be a sign above the switch to indicate what it was for?

We staggered down the Mountainous stairs at 8 a.m. for breakfast, only to have to wait - breakfast is at 8:30 we were told. Who eats breakfast so late? Maybe all those people who stayed up until all hours. (We discovered later that breakfast is earlier on weekdays.) The dining room was below ground level with the kitchen behind it, and we remembered Granny's stories of the family giving up their rooms to boarders and sleeping in the kitchen.

It was worth the wait - a true 'English breakfast' with cereal, fruit, yoghurt, juice, eggs (scrambled or poached), bacon, sausages (various), black pudding, white pudding, hash browns, potato gems, tomato, mushrooms, baked beans, toast and tea or coffee. We ate enough to last us through the most strenuous of days.

After we'd recovered from breakfast, we got permission to check out after ten, leaving our car and bags there while we went to see if we could find the church Granny was married at, if it was still there? It was only a 15-minute walk to the corner of Dickson and Cocker Street, and there it was, still there although a Methodist Church now; it was described as a Wesleyan church on the marriage certificate. We took a few photographs and began to walk back. We passed a post office so stopped in to buy a stamp for my postcard to Aunty Dolly, Granny's youngest daughter. There was a man being served, so we made a queue while the customer and the postal clerk carried on a conversation. We finally got our turn and what a talkative man he was. He said he'd been there for 20 years and had seen the place deteriorate in the last ten. Apparently, it's now an area of high unemployment, ex-cons and thieves. We could quite believe him.

We returned to the Albany to check out and headed off to Haworth, although it took us some time to clear the one-way streets. I can't say we were  sorry to see the back of Blackpool.  

Chester to Merseyside

We aimed to arrive at the Holiday Inn in Chester at 3 p.m. The booking form didn't include a street number, but we did have the coordinates. Unfortunately, our GPS wouldn't accept the last few digits, so we had to go with what it would accept. We figured it would get us close anyway.

A number of wrong turns, missed exits and backtracking later, we were told by the sweet-voiced GPS to turn left onto Wexford Road, then a hundred yards later, to do a u-turn at the roundabout. There was no Roundabout, just a set of lights with a large 'no u-turn permitted' sign. So on we went, along Wexford road into Wales. At least Lindy can now say she's been to Wales. I stayed in this area of Wales in 2006, stunning scenery, green mountains and curling clouds crowning them. 

It was a number of miles before we came to turning place to take us back into England. Our destination, according to sweet voiced Sarina, was on the left. Not there, so we drove on, into Chester city through the west gate. I knew that the Holiday Inn was in Cowley, not right in Chester, so we got out of there and tried again. This time, we turned into the Business Park and found someone to ask; he soon put us right (it was just around the corner, tucked behind some bushes). 

At last, we had arrived, although it was an hour and a half later than we'd planned. We were ecstatic when reception said we were on the ground floor. What they didn't say, and we soon found out, was that it was a long trek through endless corridors to our room. 

The room made up for it - it was large and comfortable, with a lovely modern bathroom. We logged onto the wifi, and while I caught up with email and Facebook, Lindy went for a shower. About 15 minutes later, she was calling for me to come and help her. She had not been able to work out how to turn the water from bath spout to shower head, or how to mix the water so it was not boiling hot. There was almost enough water in the tub for a bath, but she said she hadn't been able to pull the plug. When she tried to pull the silver thing on the end of the bath, the plug remained in but the silver bit came off. There was water all over the floor because the shower screen was so narrow, but we eventually saw that the screen folded out. One had to do this before getting under the shower however, as there wasn't enough room once in to unfold it. There were two grab rails on the edge of the bath but Lindy was afraid to use them in case they were like the one at Athena.

Finally freshened up, we treated ourselves to dinner and went to the bar, where we had Tandori Chicken on Ciabatta, which was served with a salad, a small bowl of coleslaw, and crisps, although the menu had said 'chips'!

We woke to cloudy skies and the promise of rain after a wonderful sleep. We booked out, and the Holiday Inn permitted us to leave our car in their car park while we went into Chester. With only a short day to spend there, we decided to find and use a Big Red Bus to show us the city - you are able to get off and on these buses at will. I lived in Chester for 6 weeks or so in 2006, when I taught English to foreign students at a summer school in the University, and I remembered the city reasonably well, but it's better to see it with someone else. 

The stop for the bus to Chester Railway Station was nearby and while we waited for the bus, we made a little breakfast of the wild blackberries we found there. We arrived at Chester Railway Station a little after 9 a.m. It's a lovely old building and after walking through it, and finding out that the Big Red Bus left at 10:15, went to the station cafe and had a hot drink and a Danish to round out of blackberries.

We went to the front of the top deck, which was covered, because the sky was lower and clouds darker. The drive through history was fascinating, and we snapped away even as it rained. We didn't have enough time to get out of the bus to explore, and the weather was deteriorating, but we got a good sense of the history. The driver stopped the bus at one point and came upstairs to point out a piece of the wall which showed the layers. The bottom layer, built by the Romans 1900 years ago, was extended by the Saxons and finally repaired by the Normans. It was easy to see the layers and the different way the stones had been laid.

We would have loved to get off and walk through the park by the River Dee, and even taken a boat down river, but by this time the rain was heavy and it was difficult to see much, so we decided to return to our car and continue on to Blackpool. 

A few photos

Lindy outside Athena guest house (first photo) and our Annexe (second photo), Oxford

Below - Oxford City

Oxford, UK

After checking out of Athena, we left our car in a Park and Ride (note, the parking machines there do not give change), and travelled into Oxford City by bus. We opted to get off in High Street and just walk. We loved the old buildings, the bicycles that everyone seemed to ride, and the history. When we got tired of walking, we sat in a little cafe and had coffee and Danish and soaked up the atmosphere. Then we set off again. One college had a sign out front, saying visitors were welcome to come in but the rooms were out of bounds. There was a magnificent garden inside and a smooth green quadrangle. The stone of the building was warm looking and so very old at the same time.

We left Oxford mid afternoon, retrieved our car, and travelled onto Chester, a walled city on the border of Wales and England. I spent some time here about 8 years ago, teaching English to foreign students at a summer school at Chester University, so had fond memories of the place.

Fawlty Towers with a Twist

Think Fawlty Towers, with a Chinese man playing a pleasant Basil Fawlty. He met us at the door and led us through a narrow, not very clean hall that was lined with power leads disappearing into the nether regions and a multitude of plugs adorning the skirting board, some piggy backing others. We ended up in a grubby kitchen, sitting at a table covered in crumbs, filling in 'paperwork'. This comprised of an example of a form they'd 'run out of' and a blank piece of paper for us to fill in.

We were then invited to follow 'Basil' to our room, which turned out to be in the annexe. Now, an annexe in my view is a building attached to the main building, so imagine our surprise when we were led out through the little car park, around the corner and across the road to an entirely different building. We followed him in (at least it was clean in there) and up a short flight of stairs. He indicated the kitchen, a piece of paper with the wifi details sticky-taped to the door. To our further horror, he led us up another flight of stairs, showing us the 'shared' bathroom (a tiny shower and a toilet), then up even more stairs. We were not happy when we finally arrived at our door, the room number (like all the others we'd passed) written in pencil on a piece of paper sticky-taped to the door. Room numbers in this place were obviously interchangeable.

He left us then, and we collapsed in laughter. The room was small, and a bit crowded with a desk, a cupboard for clothes, a fridge, a double bed, and a single (we'd asked for 2 singles), but the beds were comfortable, and the room was clean. Each bed had a bedside table with nice lamps and covers, but we discovered that these were for show only. Lindy lifted her lamp to find that the cord led nowhere - there was no visible power outlet. My lamp leant drunkenly to one side and threatened to topple when I tried to switch it on. The view from the window was the best feature of the room, showing the street lined with quaint shops, a small pub, chimney tops and so on - all obviously not Australian - but the glass was streaky, it was raining, and the window wouldn't open, so photos were not possible.

We decided a shower was necessary first, so Lindy braved the shared bathroom. She arrived back feeling fresh and much more human but warned me not to use the grab rail. She had tried, only to discover that it was another 'for show only' piece of equipment when it came off the wall in her hand!

After my shower, we tried to connect to the wifi so we could let everyone know that we had arrived, but the password didn't work. I phoned 'Basil' who tried to tell me that it was my computer. I soon put him straight, and he came over from the main house. He finally agreed that it wasn't our iPads and did as I suggested - he rebooted the router, which was perched, surrounded by more plugs and leads, on a narrow shelf up near the ceiling on the landing under our room. That worked, and I thanked him (I am polite even when a bit miffed) and turned to open the door to our room. He was part way down the stairs but popped his head back up, to point out that my room was up one flight! I apologised to the two startled girls in the room I'd tried to enter and fled up the stairs, to collapse laughing on the bed.

Our email done, feeling a bit tired by this time (9 p.m.) and not at all hungry, we tucked ourselves in and went to sleep to the sound of very soft rain on the roof above us.

England at last

We're here in rainy England. What an adventurous trip! From Brisbane to Melbourne was uneventful, although a bit noisy with tired, fretful children and babies, and we arrived in good time to get through customs. That process was not uneventful because I'd forgotten that water is a liquid that it is forbidden to carry onto an aircraft, so my carry on bag was pulled from the screening process. Once we got that sorted, we were on our way to the gate with just minutes to wait until our flight was to board.

And so we waited, and waited, with an increasingly restless crowd. No announcement was made until 11:30pm, a half hour after we were to have taken off. A 'technical fault' was being rectified, and we'd be boarding soon. I said to my sister that it would probably turn out to be a blown globe and that they were waiting for an electrician to replace. I was close, as later we were told it had been a sensor light on a door that had malfunctioned and needed replacing. Although we were understandably anxious about the late departure, we were glad that Qantas pay attention to their passenger's safety.

We finally lifted off just short of two hours late. The time in Melbourne was 12:45am, in Dubai - where we were to disembark for a brief while - it was 6:45am, so we had some hours to fill before we could sleep. Like most international flights, there was plenty of entertainment to choose from, with the screen set into the back of the seat in front. We had lists of movies to choose from, or TV shows, news, games and so on. There was food too, although I was pleasantly surprised to see that things had changed since my last long trip, with much lighter meals. We both had a 'real' book to read, opting to save battery power on our iPads.

The time passed pleasantly enough, and the seats we'd chosen were perfect. We had plenty of room and were seated at one end of the row of 4 in the middle seats. That meant we didn't have strangers wanting to disturb us to get out I to the aisle. The toilets were behind us, and the noise of the engines was just a distant roar.

We did manage to sleep reasonably well and woke to find that we were 2 and a half hours out of Dubai. We had made up some time with the help of tail winds but were advised that we would be at least an hour and a half late into Heathrow.

We left the aircraft in Dubai, to allow for crew changes and cleaning. For some obscure reason, we had to pass through more security checks and screenings to proceed to the boarding gate. That process was a bit chaotic, and we didn't have time to do any looking around, just rushed through and got to the gate with just a little time to spare. I did get the feeling that I was in an episode of 'The Dome' though, as the terminal is covered with a glass-like, bubble dome.

The last leg of our journey dragged by but we finally got into England an hour later than planned. By the time we cleared their border security and found our rental car (an unexpected trip in a bus to collect it) it was peak hour traffic. To make matters worse, it was raining, and the sky was low and very black. We sat in the rental lot car park for 15 minutes, to familiarise ourselves with the controls and the GPS, then set off to brave the traffic and the weather. From there it got a bit farcical for awhile until we got used to the directions on the GPS being in yards and miles! After a couple of missed turns, with Sarina recalculating our route (although she is very quiet, preferring that the driver is forced to look at the screen to see the directions - luckily I have Lindy) we joined the hoards fleeing London and travelling west. West is where the bad weather was coming from so we drove into worsening conditions.

We soon deviated away from the majority of the traffic, the sky lightened, the rain eased, and we had time to slow down and enjoy the green country. As we drove into Oxford and to our accommodation, Lindy saw her first old English houses, coming right to the street, chimney pots and all.

The Athena Guest House. What can I say? That's a story in itself, and we are in stitches constantly with it all. But more of that later. It's 7am now and time to make plans for the day.