Verona!

No photos as yet because it was a bit dark when we finally got to wander and search for food. An uneventful trip to Milan, an excellent coffee and off to the rental car place we went. We had a prepaid voucher. Easy. We didn't count on the Chinese folks in front of us, a very large group renting three cars and having a bit of a time with the language barrier and the finances. Frustration levels were high on both sides, the queue was getting longer. Yes, when we got to the front it was easy and off we raced to overtake the group, they walked fast despite a few younger children, to pick up the keys and the car. No way we wanted to be behind them again.

The drive to Verona was easy, right up until the satnav decided to run out of battery. We were in the centre of the old city, near the apartment. How hard can it be? A while later, after chatting with some locals and some students, we found a car park and met with a lovely young man who pulled out his iPhone, found where we needed to be and even wandered along with us. Making sure we were okay before he slipped quietly away. His mum had taught him the best of manners, as had all the others who helped us.

We had arrived at exactly the right place and Giovanni found us. Once again a lovely Airbnb apartment, on piano 4 so above the noise of the street and so close to the centro piazza and Juliette's place. I parked the car, Giovanni took his life in his hands and drove with me, the poor man put his hand up to make a car stop for me. We had already had the discussion about which side of the road I was used to driving on.

This evening Di and I wandered down for dinner at the most gorgeous restaurant. The pasta at Locandina Cappello was divine, tasty and simple. Being a little uncool, I asked for a spritz Aperol. It was well past apperativo time, oh well. I did redeem myself with a nice red with dinner. One Di and I are going to check out in the bottle shops tomorrow. The great thing about having a car is that one can do just that.

Tomorrow it's photo time then we hit the road for Rijeka in Croatia. Hopefully our magic show us the way tool works for the whole journey. One good thing, my clean out of the stuff in my bag worked, I'm down to just under 17kgs. Much easier to manage although I might just need to do some shopping to fill it a bit. 

Eilean Donan

Around the corner and there it is, amazing. Eilean Donan Castle is a Mc Kenzie castle, I'm not sure of all the details but it is still used by a branch of the clan. As Wikipedia states:

Eilean Donan, which means simply "island of Donnán", is named after Donnán of Eigg, a Celtic saint martyred in 617. Donnán is said to have established a church on the island, though no trace of this remains.^[4]

The castle was founded in the thirteenth century, and became a stronghold of the Clan Mackenzie and their allies the Clan Macrae. In the early eighteenth century the Mackenzies' involvement in the Jacobite rebellions led in 1719 to the castle's destruction by government ships. Lieutenant-Colonel John Macrae-Gilstrap's twentieth-century reconstruction of the ruins produced the present buildings.

I had to give Didge the shoes I was wearing the day I visited Eilean Donan. The blisters were so horrible I had to wear flip flops for the rest of my time in Scotland, despite the cold. As I wandered in the  castle I had one of those senior moments I tend to have, a bit of brain fade as another goldfish slops out. Did I lock the car? The car with all my worldly goods in it? I had the keys in my pocket so I raced to find a suitable window and leant out to press the lock the car button. A man saw me and chuckled to himself, I didn't dare turn around, mortified someone had witnessed this act of desperation. I'm not sure it worked, but it was locked when I got back, thankfully.

There is much more about the history of this interesting area  to explore on Wikipedia and in our family tree. A job for a quiet New Zealand evening. Now I've got packing to finish, my bag down to a very light 20kg after I posted some stuff home and gave away some other things. A good clearing out. Here's a photo I took while freezing in the fierce summer wind the whipped up the water.

More 6 degrees

That old 6 degrees of separation comes to mind as I travel. I stayed with Deborah and her family at Dunbar. Over breakfast I shared that I was traveling to Kintail to see the ancestoral home. The place my family on my mother's side emigrated from to come to New Zealand a few generations ago. Oh, said Deborah's husband, that's where my family are from.

Much later I continue this post I found in my drafts.

It seems that we both originate from the same Clan Mc Kenzie, his side the MacRaes and mine the MacKegans. It really is a small world. He was really helpful is telling me where to visit and the story of how the clan got to Kintail in the first place, from the other side of Scotland it seems. Up Inverness way. They must have been a hardy lot, apparently it was summer when I was there. It just didn't quite feel like it.

I wrote in an earlier post about staying at the Innseagan House Hotel  in Fort William. One of the musicians and I were chatting in the morning and he asked where I was from. Cayman came up, he told me that a friend of his was heading there soon to start a new job. We pieced it all together, she was the person who was hired to do Brent's job, a similar one to mine, and we would have been in the same team had I still been there. I had exchanged emails with her about apartments.

This evening I've been playing with my photos of Scotland, finally got them uploaded and sorted. It was a bit of a mission as there were hundreds on the card. Here's one of my first look at Kintail, a blink and you'll miss it type of place.

On the road again

Tomorrow, it's time to fly from my lovely Belgian whanau who always welcome me into their life when I turn up on their door stoop. I don't like goodbyes, not too good at saying them, especially those early morning ones. Tomorrow morning will be the goodbyes as Di and I disappear on the bus for the airport for our flight to Milan where a car will be waiting.

I've had some more driving practice, a trip to Spa that didn't end well. In fact it didn't begin well and only the middle bit had a few nice happenings. Like running into a restaurant and asking the poor waiter if I could use the loo before I ordered. I was that desperate and could only hope he understood my hurried New Zealandish. He laughed, pointed in the direction and off I ran. All was well when I was seated with a salmon bagel and espresso in the sun.

On the way to Spa, actually just down the road, the road works began. The exit I needed was blocked by steamrollers and the like so I just had to keep on going and take the detour. The poor satnav was very patient as I changed what she asked me to do. I apologised. So arriving at Spa over an hour later than expected wasn't ideal. I had also left about an hour later than I had expected, I slept in. Looking at the time, I figured I had a bout 90 minutes for a spa. Thank goodness I didn't book that massage as it took me almost that to find where I supposed to spa. Not enough time to do other than note where it was.

Oh well, it was a nice relaxing day out enjoying a part of Belgium I hadn't visited before so I made a mental note to do it properly next visit. The cable car up the side of the hill was fun, worth it for the view. Off I set for Antwerp, enjoying the countryside and yes, the road works were on both sides so a slow drive to the ring road. And that's where it stopped, 17 kms from Di's place, just about the time I had to get the car back to the rental company. A long while later, thoughts of picking up Di abandoned, I reset the satnav at the lights and headed for the rental company.

I was feeling a little smug, until she said, "you have reached your destination."

Mmmm no, not really. Maybe I was nearby? I drove on around the corner and found a park. A miracle in Friday rush hour Antwerp. I saw why it was there a moment later. It was the police station, the place all the police cars get to park. I looked slightly out of place. Still relatively calm, I called the rental company. You know the drill, what country are you in madam? With no power left on my phone, I managed to talk to someone who knew where to go so reset the satnav and off I went on a wild goose chase while the satnav was silent trying to sort out where I was in relation to where I should be.

It ended rather badly, I lost my cool and shouted at Di who was trying to help and, as we would say in New Zealand, totally packed a paddy. Not helpful that I was once again needing the loo, badly. I could see where I thought I needed to be but there were bollards in the way. I wasn't sure this car, despite being a rental, could jump those with a single bound. So, feeling teary and desperate, I asked a nice young lady if she could help. Help she did and off I went, left across rush hour traffic dodging cyclists, buses and trams then left again and into the parking garage.

Luckily the rental people were closed, I'm not sure how polite I'd have been and it wasn't really their fault. All's well that ends well, the tram arrived and off I went back to Di's place. I had to apologise and eat a small piece of humble pie, admitting that I had indeed experienced the terrible traffic that is the Antwerp ring road, the worst in the world according to this.

Driving to Verona tomorrow might just be easier than that, I certainly hope so. Once more Airbnb have come to the party with some good accommodation in all our stops on our 8 day whistle stop road trip through Italy, Croatia, Hungary, Austria and back. Staying in peoples homes and apartments is a good way to meet the locals and get local knowledge for the important things, like where to eat, what to see and where to park the car.

There were no great photos of Spa so here's my last of the day, a welcome back to Antwerp. I love this camel and rider set high above the square by the railway station, both better ways to travel here I suspect.

Abbaye de Villers

It seems the name of the abbey I visited today was Abbaye de Villers. Below is a little about the abbey from Wikipedia:

Villers Abbey (abbaye de Villers) is an ancient Cistercian abbey located in the town of Villers-la-Ville in theWalloon Brabant province of Wallonia (Belgium), one piece of the Wallonia's Major Heritage. Founded in 1146, the abbey was abandoned in 1796. Most of the site has since fallen into ruins.

Abbaye de Villers had a special feel about it, a restful peacefulness, I hope the photos give some sense of that.

It worked.....

Today on so many levels things worked. The new satnav excelled itself as I calmly drove my way to a new friends place in the countryside well beyond Brussels. Wendy has a wonderful house, the kind I dream of. A country house along a country road near a small village. A proper house with two stories and everything. I wanted to stay for the day and photograph the tiles on the floor, old tiles with amazing patterns and themes that were worn from generations of family feet. Just beautiful.

On the way to Wendy's I had a potential small mishap. I drove on the wrong side of the road for a small and forgivable moment. That was because of the abby right in front of me, unexpectedly through the narrow arches in the road. My mouth dropped open, I swerved accidentally. The oncoming car must have been a local and used to tourists doing just that. The abby is huge, I'm not quite sure of it's name as I, also accidentally, didn't go in via the usual entrance. Apparently you must pay, a side gate was open and I wandered in. I would have been happy to had I known.

I've had some really useful one on one and group tutoring with Di that included a workbook explaining the different features of my camera and how to use these to best effect. I really recommend her style of teaching; discussion on how to use the settings and practicing until using the settings becomes unconscious. Using your own way of seeing, knowing which settings to use automatically and not being afraid to experiment. Today I practiced, experimented. This evening I viewed the results. 

I was working on stopping water, making the water dance, making it the focus. I could fully engage with the fountain at the abby because there were so few people there, I could get engrossed and not worry about what was going on around me. I took photos from all angles with many different backgrounds, ISOs and focuses. Playing with what I had in iPhoto this evening resulted in the photo below, cropped from a larger one. I was delighted with the result. Thanks Di.

The other is of my new happy place, a small corner of a walled garden in which to contemplate. There were herbs along the wall adding fragrance to the soft air, another fountain with restful water and a lily pond. An ideal happy place. 

Stuff

It's funny, I really thought that I'd have the time to keep my blog updated with the stories from my travels. That's not gone well so far. I've only just up loaded my photos from Scotland and I've not really had time to look at them as yet. The days are filled with things to do, places to go and rest to be had. I'm actually feeling a little tired this evening after today's adventures. Tired enough for an early night and a good book.

There are so many snippets of storied to share. They come into my head at odd times, small memories that make me smile or giggle or cringe or cross. One that I was talking with Di about today was the small incident in the cafe at Lisbon's airport at some ridiculously early hour. Remind me never to book a 7am flight to anywhere from anywhere ever again. Sara and I were enjoying a very early breakfast after having left the apartment at 4.45am, sandwiched between an older English couple and a younger American couple.

It was hard not to listen to two lots of English speakers, in stereo. The older English couple's conversation went something like this after one of them had noticed the Victoria's Secret shop amongst the usual duty free fare.

"Victoria's Secret, " he said looking puzzled."What do they sell?"
"Underwear, " she replied. "Sexy underwear."
"What, like a sex shop, sex shop things?" he said with a look between shock and delight on his face.
"No, no not that sort of shop," she replied. "Only celebrities shop there, ones in the movies and such. Ones who can afford it. It's too expensive for ordinary people."

I giggled thinking about the cheapest finest Vic's Secret knickers I was currently wearing. I was tempted to comment, Sara gave me that wicked look she has to give at such times. We were both a little tired to engage in that delightful exchange. Then the second exchange began while I was still smiling. I only caught the end of it, the word savages piqued my attention.

It seems that this young couple, mid 30s maybe, were heading off on an adventure as missionaries. They said something about an island, an island of savages.

"It's okay", the young man said reassuringly. "We're lucky, it will be alright. Another American missionary has already been there and has civilized the savages a little for us."

Mmmmm there was more about the same savages finding their way to being Christians. I was horrified, speechless. These two people believing they had the right to call other people savages, to see them as less and to change their culture to their own. Colonisation hasn't changed much over time. I wondered just how many people they had really engaged with out there in the world, how their views might change as they learn to be part of another culture. Will they be welcomed and experience the beauty of new friendships or will they show that they have little value for the beliefs of others.

By the time I had gotten over my shock and become indignant, they were walking away. I was tempted to follow them, engage in a discussion and find out where they were going. Not so much to challenge, more to keep in touch and see how they were going, how their views might have been changed by their experiences. A small social experiment. I wasn't feeling very awake, or very coherent, so decided not engage this time. I suspect Sara was pleased about that.

A regal guard, Sterling Castle Scotland