Monthly Archives: December 2011

A pilgrimage of sorts

In my humble opinion the best TV drama series ever made was Granada Television’s adaptation of the Everlyn Waugh novel Brideshead Revisited. It was shot in 1981 yet still remains an outstanding piece of TV drama. In the series the location for the Marchmain family home of “Brideshead” was Castle Howard situated about 30 kms outside York.

When Sebastian Flyte first takes Charles Ryder to Brideshead they pull up next to a lake. Beyond the lake is a view of the house (Castle Howard) and Sebastian declares that “this is where his family lives” specifically excluding himself from those who call this place home. This dislocation is one of the key themes of the book and sets the scene for much of what follows.

If you haven’t seen the series, watch it. It is a real treat.

Being a fan of the series, I had always wanted to visit “Brideshead” and as we were in York just a few minutes drive away, this was my opportunity.

Castle Howard is open to the public over summer but in December we could only visit the gardens. It didn’t matter, the opportunity to make a pilgrimage to the house could not be missed. So on a cold, overcast day Jean, the girls and I drove to Castle Howard. Despite being the low season there was a steady stream of visitors through the gate – in the summer it must be packed.

The good news is that the dogs were allowed in with us. To see Daisy and Poppie walking the paths and standing in the grounds of the castle was surreal. They, of course, just thought this was the best playground they had ever had and despite the brisk 4 degree temperature seemed to be everywhere. Even old Daisy had a new spring in her step as she walked along the main path to the house past the walled garden and rose collection and the Atlas fountain.

We had just started to explore the gardens when the rain arrived and we were forced back to the car. With no sign of the rain abating we headed back to York. Despite being cut short my pilgrimage had been a success.

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The Minster at night

York Minster at night taken with my cool new iPhone 4S - handheld

Tonight was our last night in York. We walked downtown to have dinner and on the way we passed the Minster. What is a Minster? According to the publicity material provided, Minster Churches are basically churches that were established in the Anglo Saxon period as missionary teaching churches. York Minster is also the Church of the Archbishop of York. He is the most senior bishop in the North of England. It is where he has his seat, called a Cathedra, which makes York Minster a Cathedral as well.

Not all Minsters are Cathedrals, and not all Cathedrals are Minsters, but York Minster is both. The York Minster is the largest Gothic Cathedral in northern Europe and was built over a period of 250 years.

So there you go. It seemed worth a photo.

A trip to York

After all the Christmas festivities have subsided, the team are off to York for a three day stay. The Mowdays went with Gill and Andre and the kids and friends Ali and Sue, kiwis who are currently living and working in the UK.

Tuesday was moving day and the team set off from Aspley Guise at 10:30am for the 3 hour drive north – to “The North” as it’s called over here – but soon found multiple accidents on the M1 meant diversions were the order of the day. As always, the Mowdays took the longest route and arrived at the hotel in York 5 hours after departure. Jean and I both have bad head colds so an extended day on the road was the last thing we needed. Having said that we did get to see a good slice of English village life along the way as we passed through Yorkshire villages with names like Selby, Brayton and Thorpe Willoughby.

We are staying at The Churchill Hotel just outside the walls of York. It is a lovely old hotel based in a Victorian house. The staff coped well with the arrival of 8 kiwis and two dogs. The girls immediately made themselves at home in the hotel room and are, as I write this, sleeping on the bed. Two dogs, two people and a good nights sleep in a double bed is going to be no mean achievement.

The first day out and about proved the worth of everyone’s winter clothes as the official temperature of 9 degrees was reduced by an Arctic wind. The girls came out for a walk in the morning but spent the afternoon in the hotel room while the human contingent explored York.

York is a walled city, situated where the Rivers Ouse and Foss meet in North Yorkshire. It is a significant tourist destination with many historic attractions, of which York Minster is the best known. In the old city there is also a narrow old street known as the Shambles where the buildings lean in over the street, almost touching 2 or 3 stories above the cobbled lane. The city dates back to Roman times and has a long and colourful history including a period under Viking rule.

It is also a compact city with almost intact walls so a day walking around the old city is well worthwhile. That day is probably best not in the middle of the post-Christmas sales that are on currently as the population seems to swell quite considerably.

After sightseeing it was dinner in a local pub which included, what else but Yorkshire pudding washed down with a local ale.

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So that was Christmas

I’m writing this at 10:30pm on Christmas night sitting in the living room at Aspley Guise trying not to nod off to sleep. The day has been a blur of presents, food and drink.

The day started early as the kids woke up and discovered a trail of reindeer hoof prints leading from the chimney to their bedrooms. Santa’s beer and snacks were gone and in exchange there were presents stretching from one side of the lounge to the other.

For 30 minutes it was a present opening frenzy. The kids found that Santa had answered every wish they had on their list. I found that Santa had managed to organise, among other things, a new iPhone and Jean found that a D&G watch she had spotted in Italy had been delivered by the jolly red guy.

Lunch was for 12 and included a turkey the size of a small horse, ham on the bone and potatoes roasted in goose fat. This was followed by the traditional pavlova (made by Gill) and ice cream (home made by Jean to an old Italian recipe). By 3pm all 12 of us were struggling to move.

From there it was all downhill. A round of party games saw us through to a light tea and suddenly it’s – now.

After events like today it’s traditional to thank the ladies for the spread and the blokes for bringing the booze. So thank you ladies and gents, our first UK Christmas.

An afternoon ice skating

What could be more quintessentially winter than an afternoon ice skating on a frozen village pond? Well when the temperature has soared to a tropical 9 degrees centigrade the village pond is replaced by the ice rink set up at the local garden centre, but the fun had by both participants and spectators was about the same.

In our case the participants were young Josh, the son of our friends Gill and Andre, and three of his mates, all aged 12 or thereabouts. The spectators were Jean, Gill and I. Gill wasn’t exactly a spectator as she spent most of her time running around after the lads ensuring they had what they needed to skate, and at the same time making sure they didn’t lose clothes, shoes, gloves and possibly their heads while skating.

Talking to the boys before the skating they seemed to be seasoned experts. They discussed the techniques they would employ and how they had done this many times before. But, as Jean said when we arrived at the rink, ice skating is the great leveller. If you don’t know what you’re doing it is totally debilitating. Everything you know about moving forward, backwards and staying vertical is useless and you start learning all over again.

Our young experts quickly realised this as they clung to the railing with skates pointing in different directions and their young ankles bent sideways at close to 90 degrees. Suddenly the bright orange “seals” that others were holding on to for support (imagine bright orange seal shaped Zimmer Frames and you’ll get the idea) were in use by our lads as they slid, slipped and tiptoed over the ice.

Thirty minutes later they were finding their feet and starting to look a bit like ice skaters but at that point the bell rang and the next group of eager skaters were ready to take to the ice. It was time for hot chocolate and cake and to adjourn to Josh’s place for an afternoon of “nerf gun” fun followed by McDonalds for tea.

Oh to be 12 years old at Christmas time.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

Within 48 hours of arriving in the UK we were treated to the first snowfall of winter. We awoke on Friday to 3 centimetres of snow on the ground with more falling throughout the morning.

The backyard of our friend’s home was turned into a white blanket and the trees around the edge of the garden started to droop under the weight of snow on their branches. Poppie and Daisy didn’t know what to make of it but soon discovered that snow is really cold – particularly on little paws – and spent the morning watching the snow fall with no real inclination to go out and explore. By mid morning Poppie’s adventurous nature got the better of her and she did a quick swing around the garden. It confirmed her earlier opinion about snow being cold and wet, and she retired to the bed for the rest of the day.

With no wind to speak of the snow drifted slowly to earth. It was enchanting. Apparently it has also led to British bookmakers slashing their odds of a white Christmas. Bring it on we say.

Buon Natale
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Buon Natale

It’s Christmas time already and with only a few days to go we are in the UK, waiting for the snow to start falling and frantically checking our Christmas lists – twice. Jean, the girls and I would like to take this opportunity to wish all our loyal and lovely friends and readers a Buon Natale (as the Italians say) and a full, fruitful and enjoyable new year.

We have really enjoyed sharing our Italian adventures with everyone over the last 9 months and appreciated all the feedback we have received. And even though we are no longer in Italy we will continue to write about our adventures over the next few months wherever they happen to take us.

Once again Buon Natale and best wishes to you all.

Jean, Graeme and the girls.

In praise of French motorways

A brief post in praise of the French motorway network. We have become expert users over the last few days and are impressed by the quality of the roads and the general lack of traffic. The rest stops are frequent and in great condition, and every 40 km’s there is a food and drink facility.

The official speed limit is 130 km/h and most drivers seem to stick to it – some don’t.

Daisy’s tour of Troyes

In every trip there is a point where you just need to slow down. For these two kiwis it was after a few days of driving and nights of staying in hotels, packing and unpacking the car, shuffling dogs and figuring out where the next meal is going to be. On this trip that place was Troyes in the heart of the Champagne -Ardenne region.

It is located on the Seine river about 150 km southeast of Paris. Many half-timbered houses (mainly of the 16th century) survive in the old town. Troyes has been in existence since the Roman era, as Augustobona Tricassium, which stood at the hub of numerous highways, primarily the Via Agrippa. (Thanks to Wikipedia for that information).

We stayed in Hotel St Jean in the old part of the city which was, as mentioned above, all narrow lanes and half timbered buildings. Daisy and Poppie loved walking around the narrow streets – despite the somewhat chilly temperature – and cheesey winter coats.

Taking Daisy for a walk is always an experience. She’s deaf and losing her eyesight, so smell is her main way of experiencing what is around her. This means a walk is usually a series of short trots between long pauses to smell things. Smells that can take minutes to digest and understand. No amount of tugging on her harness will move her until she has extracted that last waft of the aroma. Often that means our patience runs out and she gets picked up and carried – much to her disgust.

Anyway, for Troyes we thought we’d post Daisy’s view of the town rather than ours.

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Keeping the girls warm this winter – warning cute alert!

Winter means warm clothes. That means both us and the girls. So when we made the last visit to our dog groomer in Siena we did some winter coat shopping for the girls. The buying criteria was two-fold. Firstly, warmth for the girls on cold winter days and secondly, out-right cuteness.

In Troyes it was cold enough for the girls’ coats to be used and after a walk in the brisk 4 degree temperature we all adjourned to the bar for drinks.

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Our night in the Alps

Girls relaxing in our room at La Ferme de Cortanges

After our trip through the Alps from Italy we stayed at a Bed and Breakfast in the small village of Cernex located in the Rhone Alps region of France, very close to Switzerland and only about 30 kms from Geneva.

Our hostess was the lovely Rachel Schneider at the beautifully presented La Ferme de Cortanges or Cortange Farm in english. It is an old farm house which Rachel and her husband have restored and turned into a thriving business.

Every room of the seven room establishment was dressed differently and all were located around a comfortable central salon.

For dinner Rachel recommended a local restaurant which served traditional french cuisine. The team headed there for a delightful meal – €41 for four courses plus a bottle of excellent white wine.

After a wee taster from the kitchen of Mussel Soup I tried the fresh oysters and Jean tried the fresh salmon. Both were great. The oysters weren’t quite Bluff Oyster quality (for non New Zealand readers Bluff Oysters are from the deep south of New Zealand and available each year for a limited season. they are fat and full of flavour – for kiwis the benchmark by which all other oysters are measured).

For mains we couldn’t pass by the Boeuf with Bearnaise sauce which was followed by a selection of cheeses from the cheese cart and then souffle with fresh berries for dessert. All stunning.

It was the first time we had taken the girls to dinner in a formal restaurant for a while and, thankfully, they behaved.  Daisy even took a shine to the young couple sitting next door to us and spent time starring at them as they ate.

I didn’t want to ruin their illusion but the Boeuf and Bearnaise sauce on their plates had more to do with that than anything else.

Next day it was fresh fruit, croissants with homemade jam, and a mix of cheese and salami for breakfast then back into the car for an early start as we headed deeper into France.

Through the Alps

Our trip north meant a trip through the French Alps. We originally planned to travel through Torino and then north to the Mount Blanc Tunnel but this route was closed the day we were travelling. We travelled to Torino and then headed northwest towards France and the Fréjus Road Tunnel which runs under Col du Fréjus in the Cottian Alps between Bardonecchia in Italy and Modane in France.

The tunnel is 13 kilometres long and was opened in 1980. It is the fifth longest road tunnel in the world and cost just under €2 billion to build. The French and Italian governments are clearly attempting to recover this cost with the impressive €35 toll charge.

Either side of the tunnel we had spectacular views of the Alps which our photos don’t really do justice too.

As we were driving Jean was shooting video of the trip.

Cenobio del Dogi in Camogli
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Cenobio del Dogi in Camogli

On the way north we stayed at Cenobio Del Dogi, the same hotel on the Portofino Coast as we did heading south in April. Our conclusion after a second visit was much the same as after our first visit.  This is a grand hotel in the spirit of the 1950s or 1960s and it’s easy to imagine Sophia Loren or Marcello Mastroianni sweeping down the main staircase on their way to drinks and dinner. The owners have resisted the temptation to modernise the hotel and have maintained (at considerable cost I suspect) that wonderful historic feel of a classic grand hotel.

We had drinks and dinner in the bar, surrounded by persian rugs and big easy relaxed armchairs. We had breakfast in the formal dining room with hand painted friezes on the walls and full length windows that showcased the view along the coast. We left wanting to return and spend longer than a night – a week would be a good start.

When in Rome …

We arrived in Rome late in the afternoon and were welcomed by Hotel Barocco with a cheerful smile – nice – and a room upgrade which was even nicer. The room included a terrazzo which only dog owners will understand is a bonus. We had two tired puppies who immediately took to the bed and settled in for a sleep.

Staying in hotels with the girls has a strict arrival routine:

  1. Paper down in the bathroom for doggie toilet if necessary (not so needed with the terrazzo but a safety measure)
  2.  Towels onto the bed to protect the beautiful white linen
  3.  ”Do not disturb” sign on the door so housekeeping doesn’t walk into a cacophony of barking
  4.  Doggie food into the fridge which usually means some drinks coming out – some to drink because we really needed a drink after the drive and some to make space for bags and containers of food
  5.  Dog bowls into the bathroom along with doggie fork and knife ready for dinner
  6.  Time for that drink and to watch some english language TV shows.

After settling in we all went around the corner to La Baita for a drink. The temperature was about 10 degrees but the addition of heaters to the bar meant we were toasty warm. The bar is located at the bottom of Via Veneto and looking up the street you could see the Christmas lights adorning the hotels. There is much time and effort put into decorating the area for Christmas – all very much appreciated by this kiwi contingent.

The next day we went to the Trevi Fountain and, for €2 thrown over our left shoulders, we ensured our return to Rome. Even in winter the fountain attracts visitors but there isn’t the absolute human crush of summer. We could actually sit and enjoy the sights for a few minutes.

That night we dined at the restaurant Trip Advisor rates as the 71st best restaurant in Rome from the 3,400 it rates. It happened to be about 20 metres from our hotel and was called Osteria Barberini. We were greeted like part of the family and the service throughout the meal was a delight.

The food was simple Italian fare but superbly done. We had entrees – one was a mix of bruschetta, the other fresh (really fresh), locally made mozzarella with rucola and pomodoro (rocket and tomatoes) followed by classic prima piatti – Spaghetti Carbonara and home-made Lasagne, all washed down with an Italian Chardonnay. Desserts of Pannacotta and Creme Brulee were followed by complimentary Limoncello and a wee stagger back to the hotel.

All up the meal cost €55 which was unbelievable value. If you go to Rome you have to try this place. If you’re not visiting soon, read the Trip Advisor reviews to get a flavour of the place – ours will be there soon.

The next day we repacked the car to the roof – much to the amusement of the porter at Hotel Barocco  and headed to our next stop. It was Chianti for lunch with our friend Olga and then on to the Portofino Coast for our next overnight stop.

The drive to France
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The drive to France

Apologies gentle reader, it has been nearly a week since our last post in Positano. I am writing this on Sunday morning in a hotel room in Troyes in France, just 3 hours south of Calais and with three days before we cross the channel to England.

In the last few days we have stayed a night in the Rhone Alps a few kilometres from Geneva, a night on the Portofino Coast and two nights in Rome.

With between 3 and 5 hours driving each day the last few days have been a blur of motorways, tunnels, mountains and fields.  The temperature has dropped from Positano’s warm 18 to Troyes’ chilly 2 degrees. Jean took the dogs out for their morning constitutional around 10am and returned declaring its “ski field” cold outside. As proof, if any further is needed, she then broke out the gloves, coats and woolly jumpers for the day.

I have a feeling that the girls will be wearing their new Italian coats for their walk. You haven’t heard about the coats? I’ll make sure to post some pictures later for your amusement.

Also I’ll be posting stories about Rome in winter, the trip through the Alps to France, the place we stayed on the Portofino Coast and a wee video we made about driving in Positano, all in the next few days.

As soon as I write them.