Cute town. Small and quiet with the ruins of an ancient castle overlooking the valley. Great photo opportunities. I had an interesting talk with Barry, a reserved and modest guy and told me about his trip. He's reliving his hippy days when he hitchhiked from London to Kathmandu playing in a blues band. apparently Heidelberg loved him and called him the 'zauberer.' Apparently nobody would tell him that meant magician. He is an interesting guy, must talk to him more.
Went for a walk with Frankie (the youngest of our trip) and Michele (the Italian) they seem lovely, getting to know people slowly. First time travelling for Frankie -cool first travels!
I know these are delayed but the rest are coming. Will post some photos soon!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Bruges - the city that smells of chocolate and horse shit
Ok ok, I know I was going to update this more often but... well I didn't.
Bruges, just... beautiful. Arrived in the cobbled stone town and jumped off the bus with 28 strangers, everyone with a nervous smile on their face. Felt stunned at how fantastically magical this town was. Knowing that I only had the rest of the day there I hired a bike and cycled round the city dodging other cyclists, buses and cars. Visited museums and cathedrals and saw the Madonna of Bruges by Michelangelo depicting Jesus in a pose too raunchy for the man who commissioned it so eventually bought by a wealthy merchant from Bruges. While making the historical rounds of the city and visiting the icons I passed a group from the bus drinking beer and eating chocolate. I felt like such a Y bander.
The evening was spent drinking beer and discussing atheism with Kenneth (the photographer) and Barry (the man with the iPad), they seem like good people. After drinking probably more than I have all year I take the camera out to get some classic photos of Bruges and watch couples drinking in a little cafe overlooking the water. Jazz and European accents spill out onto the street. This is definitely a city for couples. It is immensely peaceful.
Bruges, just... beautiful. Arrived in the cobbled stone town and jumped off the bus with 28 strangers, everyone with a nervous smile on their face. Felt stunned at how fantastically magical this town was. Knowing that I only had the rest of the day there I hired a bike and cycled round the city dodging other cyclists, buses and cars. Visited museums and cathedrals and saw the Madonna of Bruges by Michelangelo depicting Jesus in a pose too raunchy for the man who commissioned it so eventually bought by a wealthy merchant from Bruges. While making the historical rounds of the city and visiting the icons I passed a group from the bus drinking beer and eating chocolate. I felt like such a Y bander.
The evening was spent drinking beer and discussing atheism with Kenneth (the photographer) and Barry (the man with the iPad), they seem like good people. After drinking probably more than I have all year I take the camera out to get some classic photos of Bruges and watch couples drinking in a little cafe overlooking the water. Jazz and European accents spill out onto the street. This is definitely a city for couples. It is immensely peaceful.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Stress, the stress, the stress...
That was a few months ago now and I'm getting ready to leave with very vague plans ahead. Surfing across an ocean on the back of a dolphin while taking photos for National Geographic with David Attenborough narrating my story will only exist in my dreams but this is very nearly the next best thing.
Ok, I know I know. Blogs are the best example of 21st century narcissism written by people who fancy themselves as the next Paul Theroux or Bill Bryson. Or just people who fancy themselves, and lets face it, I do. So why am I writing this? Firstly I'm bored. And excited! -I've been thinking about this trip solidly for the last four months and I'm itching to leave. Secondly, I expect the two people to be reading this will be my mum and my granny (maybe Jamie from time to time), so hi :) I hope I will be able to update this enough and let you know where I am and what's going on. If anybody else reads this please let me know even if you hate it and you think I'm an idiot (you know who you are -don't be a stranger, email me!)
Ohhhh good loooord the stress. I don't get stressed often but have in recent weeks. Visas, money, credit cards, insurance, all the non-fun things that need to be done and I haven't thought about. Still it will be worth it!
For the moment I am enjoying the great British summer. I went to Brighton recently and ran into Brian Eno (although I didn't realise it was him until my friend practically fainted with excitement). Went to Leeds to check if its there, it is. And Scotland, which was beautiful. London life is busy as hell, Dorking joviality is jovial as always.
So does anybody know how easy is it to crew on a ship in Oz, rent/share a car to drive around a bit and where is good to stay/work/live? I need to find someone to travel with, unfortunately I don't have Bear Grylls so a substitute would be welcome although I would probably avoid camel carcasses and piss drinking if at all possible.
Ok, I know I know. Blogs are the best example of 21st century narcissism written by people who fancy themselves as the next Paul Theroux or Bill Bryson. Or just people who fancy themselves, and lets face it, I do. So why am I writing this? Firstly I'm bored. And excited! -I've been thinking about this trip solidly for the last four months and I'm itching to leave. Secondly, I expect the two people to be reading this will be my mum and my granny (maybe Jamie from time to time), so hi :) I hope I will be able to update this enough and let you know where I am and what's going on. If anybody else reads this please let me know even if you hate it and you think I'm an idiot (you know who you are -don't be a stranger, email me!)
Ohhhh good loooord the stress. I don't get stressed often but have in recent weeks. Visas, money, credit cards, insurance, all the non-fun things that need to be done and I haven't thought about. Still it will be worth it!
For the moment I am enjoying the great British summer. I went to Brighton recently and ran into Brian Eno (although I didn't realise it was him until my friend practically fainted with excitement). Went to Leeds to check if its there, it is. And Scotland, which was beautiful. London life is busy as hell, Dorking joviality is jovial as always.
So does anybody know how easy is it to crew on a ship in Oz, rent/share a car to drive around a bit and where is good to stay/work/live? I need to find someone to travel with, unfortunately I don't have Bear Grylls so a substitute would be welcome although I would probably avoid camel carcasses and piss drinking if at all possible.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Bathroom WIN!
So I am sitting on the loo on a wet October day flicking through the latest issue of Wanderlust travel magazine (other magazines are available), looking at the articles and getting that feeling. You know the feeling that there is so much to see and do and all of it is so exciting and how can we stay still on this planet and not want to see EVERY LITTLE INCH that we can because there is so much life and colour and adventure to have? Yeah, yeah, OK shut up Liv (you're all gonna hate me in a minute anyway).
So the photos/places/people are amazing etc. I'm reading about someone describing a trip that started as a two week holiday in Bognor that turned into a two year hitch-hike around Latin America where they chartered a yacht, swam across the Amazon on the back of a dolphin, discovered a rare animal, lived with a Amazonian tribe, learned the language and made friends with a howler monkey before deciding to write an anthropological study of the culture and live a Robinson Crusoe-esque lifestyle with the added benefits that she's making millions as a travel photographic journalist and putting it towards providing clean water and health care for the village. Yes, its a magazine, it is aspirational I know its supposed to make you think this is available for anyone adventurous to try it (I fall for it every time). Surely we are of the generation that are immune to this now? Apparently not. I look up from the magazine at the cold bathroom and I know nobody lives like this, or the very lucky few anyway. Meh, that's life (see Charlie Brooker for a better rant on this kind of thing).
Anyway the bathroom is getting colder and I want to watch the Wire so I flick to the last page and Wanderlust have a competition (can you see where this is going?) to win an overland trip from London to Sydney with OzBus. What an amazing thing! I enter because I have nothing better to do. And I forget about it.
A couple of months later my mother picks me up in her car with a giant smile on her face and immediately comes out with, 'Your father told me I should keep this a secret until you speak to Wanderlust but.... hesaidIwouldn'tbeabletokeepitasecretandIcan't!you'vewonaholiday!'
What?
'You need to call Wanderlust magazine, they said you've won that competition!'
So... I don't believe her for two reasons, firstly I only vaguely remember entering the thing, and secondly people never actually win this stuff.
Well...
OH EM GEE!
So the photos/places/people are amazing etc. I'm reading about someone describing a trip that started as a two week holiday in Bognor that turned into a two year hitch-hike around Latin America where they chartered a yacht, swam across the Amazon on the back of a dolphin, discovered a rare animal, lived with a Amazonian tribe, learned the language and made friends with a howler monkey before deciding to write an anthropological study of the culture and live a Robinson Crusoe-esque lifestyle with the added benefits that she's making millions as a travel photographic journalist and putting it towards providing clean water and health care for the village. Yes, its a magazine, it is aspirational I know its supposed to make you think this is available for anyone adventurous to try it (I fall for it every time). Surely we are of the generation that are immune to this now? Apparently not. I look up from the magazine at the cold bathroom and I know nobody lives like this, or the very lucky few anyway. Meh, that's life (see Charlie Brooker for a better rant on this kind of thing).
A couple of months later my mother picks me up in her car with a giant smile on her face and immediately comes out with, 'Your father told me I should keep this a secret until you speak to Wanderlust but.... hesaidIwouldn'tbeabletokeepitasecretandIcan't!you'vewonaholiday!'
What?
'You need to call Wanderlust magazine, they said you've won that competition!'
So... I don't believe her for two reasons, firstly I only vaguely remember entering the thing, and secondly people never actually win this stuff.
Well...
OH EM GEE!
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