Let’s make like a banana and split!

There is just so much to see and do in Berlin that just two days is nowhere near enough. For this reason we decided to split up on our last day in Berlin, with Brad and Cara heading out on an alternative tour of the city, while I opted for the day trip to Sachenhausen – the concentration camp which all the others were modelled on.

Obviously my day was considerable sombre so in order to not leave everyone feeling depressed, I’ll kick off, with Brad taking it up the rear (ha-ha).





Day two – Kylie’s version

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.

When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.

When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.

When they came for the Jews,
I remained silent;
I wasn't a Jew.

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.
Martin Niemöller, 1946

A trip to a concentration camp doesn’t seem like the most light-hearted way to spend a day and I know some don’t even want to hear about things like this on account of it being too sad and difficult to deal with; nevertheless I believe it is crucial that people see these sorts of things and spread the word as a reminder of the suffering humans are capable of inflicting upon one another. Turning a blind eye and not wanting to know was exactly what happened during the times such camps were in operation, and it’s through continuing to speak about what happened that helps to avoid atrocities like this from happening again in the future. Ignorance is bliss but sometimes ignorance is just ignorance.

As you can tell my trip to Sachenhausen had quite a profound effect and the entire experience was somewhat sombre, but very moving. Sachenhausen was the model concentration camp – the camp that the Nazis used as a model for their other camps across Germany and Europe. While it was predominantly a working camp and not a death camp like Auschwitz, a great deal of death occurred here through murder, disease and malnourishment. I can’t imagine what sort of emotions would be stirred up from visiting a death camp, but when in Poland I will most definitely go and see one – as said earlier, I really do believe it’s our duty.

I won’t share some of the awful sights we saw or the terrible stories we heard, other than to say it is overwhelming and well beyond comprehension. The day I was there it was five degrees, raining and with an icy breeze – I was freezing wrapped in a winter coat and scarf. The prisoners of Sachenhausen suffered through -30 degree temperatures in thin cotton pyjamas on next to no food. It defies belief.

When arriving at Sachenhausen you are greeted with wrought-iron gates which bear the sign ‘Arbeit Macht Frei’, or ‘Work shall set you free’- something which never actually occurred as the only way you would be free from Sachenhausen is if you left through what the guards referred to as ‘Tower Z’ – the cremation chambers. Not one person ever escaped from Sachenhausen.

It was also interesting to learn that the concept of concentration camps wasn’t new to the Nazis and many other groups have adopted these internment camps in the past – including the Russian Red Army who took over Sachenhausen for five years where they interned Nazis and other prisoners of war, after liberating it in 1945.

I’ll leave you with some food for thought that our guide mentioned to us... ‘I ask that you exercise your democratic right to speak up as it’s through your voice that we can help prevent atrocities like this from happening in future, because danger can creep up on you when you are silent.’

Day two – as experienced by Brad
Cara and I went on the ‘alternative walking tour’ which basically showed the underground culture and street art in Berlin. Much to Kylie’s disappointment I’m sure, we ended up with the female Jim Carey as our guide. In reality she was okay as a guide as long as you didn’t get stuck up the front walking beside her where she would say random things and crack up to herself.
The tour started in a ‘squat’ (which is a place where people live illegally as they don’t pay rent), which if you were not on a tour and just walked past you would have crossed the road (not in the way Sharon does to get to a sale, but more like Rob avoiding a small dog on a leash) as it was an old building covered in graffiti. Inside you were greeted by even more graffiti, and upstairs there were rooms converted into art studios, by street artists making everything from jewellery to prints. It was a very cool place and apparently it is bustling at night time with tourists and locals aplenty.
To keep it brief, the rest of the tour we looked at some art galleries, a lot of different street art where we learnt how to identify a few famous (in the street art world) artist’s work, and some murals that covered the sides of four storey buildings. It was definitely an awesome experience to see behind the scenes of a city that is so rich in culture. All in all a fun day of sibling bonding (haha Kate).

So that’s it for us and our time in Berlin – what a city! Our next adventure is to Amsterdam during the last weekend of October, so watch this space!

xx

Berlin will never be Berlin

I’m back - did you miss me?

Here we are in Berlin, which is actually our third time in Germany and I tell you – the more we see of this country the more we love it. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – the Germans are so efficient – everything is great, the food, the beer, the buildings... I love Germany! We’re staying at Circus hostel and like the name suggests, it is circus-themed with each room more bright and beautiful than the last. We’re in a four bedroom hostel but thankfully we don’t see our roommate very much – she’s a bit nocturnal which suits us fine as we don’t have to make small talk and can take over the room at night.

Berlin is out of this world and offers so many different experiences – there really is something for everyone and I could spend weeks here exploring the different nooks and crannies (I hate this saying with a passion which just goes to show how much I love Berlin, if I’m willing to use a repulsive sentence like this to demonstrate my feelings). For example, you have possibly the richest and most interesting history of any nation on this planet, combined with the funkiest alternative scene, as well as the world’s best food, combined with Germany’s efficiency – I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again – I LOVE Germany! If I could speak German and if I could get over the careless attitude cyclist’s have to road safety here (not a helmet in sight), I’d be a Berliner for sure.

After checking in to our hostel last night, we took a wander through a small section of the very large inner city, taking some pretty photos, watching some street performers and picking up a small piece of the Berlin wall as a souvenir for our shelf, before heading to our local restaurant, Fleischerei (German for butcher, which is aptly named as it used to be a renowned butchers back in the day) for some currywurst and pommes frites. Currywurst would be your favourite food Dad and is essentially a huge delicious sausage, with curry sauce and a sprinkling of curry powder – if I could package one up and send it home to you, I’d do so in a second – it’d knock you for six! We had a bit of an early night on account of our 4am bed time the night prior and slept for almost 12 hours solid! It seems sitting on a train all day stuffing our faces really seems to tire oneself!

This morning we practically jumped out of bed on account of our lengthy sleep, where we hit the pavement, anxious not to miss the start of the 11am walking tour. Unfortunately we weren’t so lucky and after stopping for a bagel, there was no way we were going to make it in time, so we decided to walk across town to West Berlin to join the West Berlin walking tour which started an hour and a half later. After walking for an hour through a huge beautiful park in the centre of Berlin, we eventually ended up at the West Berlin walking tour start point, only to be told by the guide that there was no such thing as a West Berlin tour – rather this was just a meeting point where she would take us to the East Berlin tour... So after all that walking, we ended up right back where we had come from – not that I’m complaining as it was a lovely walk, and when you’re eating as much currywurst as we are, a bit of exercise never goes astray!

After the fabulous experiences we have had so far on every single walking tour we have done, I was knocked for six when we met who I thought was going to be our guide for the tour – a budding comedian from the US, who was essentially a female version of Jim Carrey, with even her eyebrows bearing an uncanny similarity to Mr Carrey. I generally like most people (except for little Miss Eyes for Christmas perve at Miss Sophie’s!) so my instant dislike of this tour guide was most surprising, but the thought of spending three hours pretending to smile at jokes which made my toes curl and staring at the ground to avoid making eye contact, almost had me running back into West Berlin, throwing the idea of a walking tour to the wind. Thankfully the group was split up and we managed to luck out with an Italian-Londoner named Leo – he was a real gem and as a result, we experienced the best walking tour yet.

Berlin is the most interesting place we have been and historically speaking so much has happened there. We learnt about everything from the holocaust and the Nazis rise to power, to the Berlin wall – definitely the most interesting tour. A particular highlight for me was visiting the Holocaust memorial which was built in 2005 and cost €25 million. Essentially it is 2711 huge concrete rectangles which have been out at varying heights over roughly 100 metres squared. Despite being very abstract with little explanation around what it’s supposed to represent, it is strangely moving and I found myself feeling quite reflective as we explored it. Compare this huge and eye-catching memorial with the site of Hitler’s bunker, which is literally a car park. The Germans have given no significance to the site whatsoever, nor have they put up any plaque as they in no way want to commemorate or reference his life. To this day you can be charged €5000 for referencing Hitler in any way which may be seen as idolising. Hitler isn’t as so much mentioned over there and is still a very much taboo sort of subject. Just this week a Hitler exhibition opened at the German History Museum which is very much the first of its kind and has been receiving all sorts of media attention. I wanted to check it out, but there was just so much to see and do and far too little time – we’ll be back to Berlin for sure!

Another interesting fact for you – Hugo Boss designed the uniforms of the SS guards and Nazis, which is something that we felt wasn’t as acknowledged as it should be. Upon learning this fact, Cara and I agreed that we now think a little less of Hugo Boss as a designer, to which Brad replied: “I don’t – if it was good enough for Hitler, its good enough for me. I mean he was a fussy, fussy man!”

Another interesting fact for you – Berlin as it is today is only 20 years old, on account of the Berlin Wall which divided the country for 28 years, and is a city which is famous for embracing change. It’s constantly changing, meaning the Berlin we visited was very different five years ago, and will be even more so in another five years. There’s a famous quote which demonstrates this: “Paris will always be Paris, but Berlin will never be Berlin.” It really is an amazing city and certainly the most interesting so far.

After the walking tour we headed to the Pergammon which is a famous museum which houses the Babylonian Gates – that’s right, one of the ancient wonders of the world was seen firsthand by yours truly. It very nearly didn’t happen actually, as after deciding to splash out on the €10 ticket with only an hour before closing we were running around like headless chooks trying to find the gates, only to be told by one of the curators that we had the wrong museum! Thankfully the nice guard at the neighbouring museum let us in just after the cut off time and we were able to see the gates in all their glory!

After our day of museum hopping we were ravenous – being so intellectual and cultural really takes it out of you – so we headed back to the hospital to look up a few suggested restaurants, where we managed to hit gold on a little place called ‘White Trash Fast Food’ – so funky and so Berlin. Just writing about it makes my mouth water and we had the biggest, most delicious burgers we’ve ever tasted, followed by a desert the size of a newborn baby! Right up my street! The only fly in the ointment was that we were seated beside a German family, who had the most disgustingly fat child we have ever seen. We named him Augustus as he bore an uncanny resemblance to the greedy chub in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and just watching him devour his mountain of food was enough to curb the appetites of even the hungriest of African children!

After our long and leisurely dinner we headed back to spend some valuable time blogging (see even in the most exciting of cities, you’re all always top of mind) and reading our books.

Aren’t we lovely?

xx

Prague - Czech us out!

Hello or Ahoy as the Czechs say!

This latest blog update comes to you all the way from Prague in the Czech Republic, well actually Berlin as we have just arrived and are taking some time out to write home to our beloved whanau before catching up on some sleep, as it’s been a whirlwind three days so far!

After an early 3am start, we arrived in Prague at 9am to a balmy temperature of six degrees and there it stayed ever since, fluctuating ever so slightly either way. After navigating our way to our hostel via public transport, we arrived at Miss Sophie’s and were blown away at our cute little boutique accommodation. It seemed the staff were as blown away by us as we were the hostel, as one female staff member in particular was blatantly and outrageously flirting with Brad ogling him well and truly. In fact when Cara arrived later that evening and went to check in, the girl said ‘oh is that Brad’s room?!’ Despite the fact that I had done all the talking. Little witch – she better Czech herself (I’m so pleased with this pun that I predict it might be appearing an inordinate amount in this update).

Anyway, Brad and I grabbed a map from the drooling girl and hit the streets of Prague, ready to get lost and get amongst what is possibly the most beautiful city in Europe. Everywhere we turned there was another photo opportunity and it took us a good few hours just to navigate our way to the old town square, via a scenic river walk past the famous Prague castle and Charles Bridge – total postcard moment.

We managed to stumble across a little Czech restaurant in an underground cellar without a tourist in sight. As tends to happen with us and food, we got a little over excited and ordered far too much, which thankfully turned out to be a blessing in disguise as some of the more traditional meals that showed up were enough to make your toes curl. In fact, both Brad and I literally reeched after sampling a local, cheesy bread and spread combo called tatarak...It was so bad that we kept bringing it up to one another as the day passed, just to make the other spew in their mouth. Fun for hours! The food in the Czech Republic is certainly something else and we can’t say we weren’t warned. Our flatmate Ryan gave us a brief rundown on the food situation before we left, but it really does have to be sampled to be believed. Sometimes you luck out well and truly, like Shady who received almost an entire pig on a skewer, and other times you’re not so fortunate – like me at breakfast this morning when I was served what looked and tasted like vomit wrapped up in a burrito. Cara was also told the same thing by a friend in Slovenia so it’s widely known that Czech food leaves little to be desired.

After our delicious lunch we stumbled across a liquor store where we learned that the Czech Republic is not only the home of lager, but also marionettes, absinthe and a local delicacy, called cannibas vodka. No need to go into details here as the clue is very much in the title. What you see is very much what you get and what I saw was a bottle of vodka with a whole lot of greenery floating in it. Goodness knows what it would do to you, but I can say that we will never know, rather choosing to sample the absinthe and as can be expected when you’re dealing with 80 per cent alcohol, all it tasted like was burning!

After a full day of sightseeing we headed back to Miss Sophie and the Czech perve for a bit of a rest while we waited for Cara to arrive. I managed to find the only English speaking channel and enjoyed a good 20 minutes of a documentary all about the countless bugs and germs that riddle our homes – delightful viewing. After all, what’s a holiday in Eastern Europe’s beautiful and bustling centre without a documentary on bed bugs and skin mites? Thankfully Cara spared me from the creepy crawlies and arrived soon after, much to the delight of the perve who insisted on escorting Cara to our room... Now I wonder why that was? I’m close to positive that she actually planted a few cameras while she was in there, but other than my razor sharp intuition, I don’t have any hard evidence to support these claims. Needless to say, there was no way Cara could have got lost given there were only three rooms on each floor with a huge number painted on the door in black and it was more than obvious that the reason for the impeccable service was due to the fact that she just wanted to Czech out Brad (man I’m good).

Because Cara has been travelling for 10 weeks she arrived with a fair load of stuff and was understandably exhausted, so we decided to hit a delicious, local Mexican restaurant – a perfect choice given we were still a little shaky after the tatarak experience! Then we went in search of chocolate, before retiring to our room for a lengthy catch up.

After a delicious sleep at Miss Sophie’s we woke up on Saturday feeling refreshed and ready to face the day so off we set back to the old town market to stuff our faces with delicious food - food that we spied the day before but were too sick to take advantage of thanks to the ghastly tatarak! After trying a national potato dish, more bratwurst and Czech donuts we were ready to embark on the free walking tour we’ve come to know and love.

The tours are always really amazing and you learn so much from them – like the fact that Czech’s are the largest consumers of beer in the world, or that the Czech Republic is smack bang in the centre of Europe so when WWII was declared to be at an end, neither the Russians or the Americans could provide rescue to Prague as no one was clear about whose responsibility it was. Both had signed a pact that they wouldn’t cross over to the other’s territory so essentially Prague was a no man’s land. In the end the citizens of Prague stood up to Germany by playing ‘contraband’ national Czech music over the radio, informing everyone to ‘resist the Nazis peacefully’. Rather than fight with violence and bloodshed, the Czechs did things like remove the street signs so that the Nazis couldn’t find their way to the radio station to stop the broadcast.

Prague has such a rich and troubled history that we previously didn’t know much about, but it has been in the hands of so many different countries, different dictators and under communist rule that it is only as late as 1990 that it broke free from Russia, before parting ways with Slovakia to become the Czech Republic. After WWII and being occupied by Germany for so long they experienced a few short years of freedom in what is referred to as the ‘Prague Spring’, before being occupied by Russia three short years later.

The Czech people are very proud of their country and their national anthem includes the line ‘where is home’, and as our tour guide explained, this is easily understandable as people that have lived their entire lives in Prague can in effect, claim to have lived in as much as eight different countries without ever having moved house. They also have a strong Jewish influence and were heavily persecuted by the Nazis during WWII. At one point in the tour our guide actually started crying as he regaled us with stories from the war and the Czech people’s passive resistance by refusing to flee, rather choosing to stay and meet death. Very sad stuff – although admittedly the tears were most unexpected and Brad, Cara and I felt more than a little awkward as we were right up the front and as the tears were flowing he was staring us right in the face, eyeballing the heck out of us! One of those situations where all of a sudden someone is crying and you don’t know where to look – so moving and sad, and Gemma Kay I couldn’t help but think you would have been in your element and cracking up at the awkwardness of it all – especially at the ‘deer in a headlights’ expression on our faces! Then as quickly as they started the tears stopped, giving us the chance to turn to one another and exchange ‘WTF’ expressions and question whether that had actually just happened.

I could parrot on about how interesting the tour was forever but thankfully for your sake, I’m a girl of a few words, so I’ll move on. You know me – quiet as a mouse.

After the tour we headed up to the Prague castle where again we were greeted with picture postcard views, making the 1km hike up the hill worth every second. We also encountered a few handsome Czech soldiers with weapons that would make you wet your pants. Brad marched beside them for a wee while for a photo op, before chickening out well and truly – perhaps the funny photo isn’t worth getting speared through the heart with a bayonet. Drop nuts.

Next on the agenda was dinner and miraculously, we had managed to time our arrival in Prague with Shady and Emily, who as you know are travelling through Europe in their van and just so happened to be in Prague at the same time – perfect. Prior to dinner Cara had done a bit of research on good places to eat and after getting lost down Prague’s endless cobbled side streets we managed to stumble across the best of all the search results – a traditional cellar bar/ restaurant/ beer hall. A place where you can’t figure out a thing on the menu and as to what turns up in front of you, your guess is as good as mine. This is where Shady was greeted with almost an entire pig on a spit! We stayed at this cosy little dungeon of a place for hours, eating, drinking and even indulging in an absinthe shot each, which as we’ve established is one of those experiences that I can tick off my list and won’t be repeating. When in Prague after all...

Next stop was another bar, but this time an Irish one where we sung along to the below average band and chatted until the early hours of the morning.

The next day, after a rubbish breakfast of vomit in a wrap for me, we checked out of our beloved Miss Sophie’s, said goodbye to the perve who practically cried at Brad’s departure and headed off to the train station where we boarded a train for Berlin. Prior to our departure we decided to get a few snacks for the journey, where Cara and I were entrusted with this task. After making a rather generous selection we were greeted with the typically shocking customer service I’ve come to expect in Europe and while this experience certainly wasn’t unexpected or surprising in any way, shape or form, she was incredibly rude and it was all far more than I was prepared to put up with on this Sunday morning. Poor Cara was shocked to the core when I turned on my way out of the shop and snarled “thanks for the worst customer service I’ve ever experienced in my life!” I don’t know what it is over here – maybe it’s the language barrier, maybe it was the absinthe shot, but since our departure in May, I have adopted the habit of speaking my mind – much to the embarrassment of others. You’ll remember my screaming match with the German in Freibourg, or even last weekend in Barcelona when I told off a woman for cutting in front of me in line – I just can’t keep quiet. Not that I mind and I’m quite happy with my new found habit truth be told – no longer am I one of those people to keep it inside and fester away. Rather I’ve adopted a policy of sinking to their level and screeching right back at them. Don’t get me wrong, if a meal is bad but the service is nice I never complain, but if someone pushes into me or is just plain rude, rather than get silently angry about it, I’ll say a few cutting comments and walk away feeling top of the world. I’ll let you in on a little secret – it feels fantastic! Next time someone is rude to you, give them a good old verbal clip around the ears – better than therapy. I just have to watch myself – I don’t want to become one of those awful people who ‘speak as they find’ and go around saying awful things like, ‘no offence, but that colour looks absolutely dreadful on you.’ It’s a fine line - you start with asking someone to reheat your stone cold hot chocolate and you end up alienated and not invited to dinner parties for fear of offending all the guests.

I digress. Most unusual for me – as I said, I’m a girl of a few words. So we board the train for Berlin and as everyone says, rail really is such a beautiful way to see the countryside. That is for the first hour or so, and then I just wanted to get off and start exploring. Thankfully I managed to survive the five hour journey as Cara had the good sense to buy pistachio nuts and the shelling and consuming of these kept me entertained for at least an hour.

I’ll leave you here as technically given we’ve arrived in a new city and country, it’d only appropriate I start a new blog entry.

Ciao bella! (Italian obviously, so I’m not sure of the relevance here, but goodbye in Czech is a bit too complicated and given we don’t have many of the letters on the keyboard, you’ll have to put up with Italian!)

Xx

Hola Barcelona! Sightseeing, sangria and sun.

Oh what a weekend and what a place – tapas, sangria in the sun, good times and good friends. After being built up to the point of no return, Barcelona lived up to its rip-roaring reputation.

All in all we had a tight crew of nine friends, which sounds like a recipe for disaster given the large number of different tastes , opinions and preferences to cater for, but worked a treat – mind you, maybe that’s because I got my way the entire time...? I’m kidding of course, although it might be best to seek a second opinion to be on the safe side!

The reason for the celebration was that it was Morgan and Jess’s birthday so off we all went on Friday night after work... Well that was the plan anyhow, but I ended up going a day earlier for work where I explored and survived the city for a good 36 hours by myself, before I was joined by the rest of the team... All except Brett and Dicko who managed to miss the flight – much to Brad’s distress as their absence meant he was the only guy amongst six other girls. Thankfully for Brad’s sake, the boys managed to catch a flight out the first thing the following morning, so he was surrounded by estrogen for a mere 12 hours before they came to the rescue.

My day and a half of sightseeing was well spent and I managed to get a good sense of Barcelona meaning I was able to act as navigator over the weekend. I'd also spoken at length with my Spanish colleagues about the best places to go, eat and drink so we very much had the inside scoop here! The only blip on the radar was when I sat down in an unknown Spanish cafe and ordered from a Spanish menu. Word of advice, if a waiter looks twice at you with raised eyebrows when ordering you'd be wise to reconsider your options! What arrived was not at all what was expected and my Mallorquin baguette (traditional Spanish meat) was instead a liquid, fatty, stringy, bright orange substance which left me with a gut ache and nausea! It's all part of the experience though!

The Spanish lead such a different lifestyle to us all, surviving on a coffee for breakfast, lunch at 2pm, then dinner at 11pm earliest! The clubs in Spain don’t even open until 3am so we were all planning on heading out when the team eventually arrived. I’d had a good few hours sleep by the time the team got to our cosy 12 bed hostel and to everyone’s surprise they were ready for bed. Despite the original plan to head out onto the town, Spanish style, we all crashed and awoke feeling refreshed Saturday morning.

We set off first thing to Barcelona's most famous site - la Palais Sagrille Familia, which despite seeing the day before was just as much a treat the second time. This palace was created by the world-famous and crazy architect Gaudi, and like all of Gaudi's work is so different and crazy that it leaves you wondering whether he was just having a laugh. Don't get me wrong, the palace is beautiful, but some of his other famous buildings left me confused and thinking 'WTF?!' We didn't go inside as the line stretched well down the street and we had a list of things to do our arms length - like eating tapas and drinking gallons of sangria - so after waltzing down Avinguda de Gaudi (Gaudi Avenue - woop woop check me out with my Spanish stylings) and seeing his famous Hospital, we set off back to the hostel to join up with long lost Dicko and Brett.

Brad was like a bear with a sore paw while he waited for the boys to arrive, and you could literally see the relief on his face as we met up with them all for lunch. In fact, a man-hug was the only way for Brad to appropriately express what he was feeling. That and a tall glass of Spanish rum on the rocks! Not that us girls were left thirsty and we were soon sniggering away as the sangria started flowing.

Thanks to my Spanish experts we ended up at a lovely and authentic tapas bar, which was so authentic that it left me utterly confused when some of our tapas started to appear – the lovely deep fried delicious goods which I thought I’d ordered left me knocked for sick when a tower of stinky cheeses arrived. Thankfully I’m a smart cookie and I soon cottoned on to the hidden gems in the menu and had set myself up for the weekend with two simple words – patatas bravas. Who cares that I essentially eating fries and aioli – if you ordered it in Spanish it was totally cultural!

The rest of the day was spent exploring the city, it’s fruit and fish markets, the harbour and the endless alleyways, followed by a rest on the golden sand of Barcelona beach!

After wandering for hours on end we were all exhausted, so we sat down, poured another dozen glasses of sangria and socialised in the bar of our hostel, before heading out to dinner. Brad managed to befriend a group of stags from Britain, who were on an absolute bender in Barcelona – in fact, after one pint too many the groom-to-be confided in us that he’d managed to spend €3500 on strippers already!

Anyway I digress, so here we are at another tapas bar, eating and drinking up a storm when we decided that it was now socially acceptable for us to hit the clubs as it was midnight. Off we trundled to the new W Hotel, which I’d been informed by my Spanish correspondents, had a rooftop bar that gives 360® views of Barcelona and as our taxi pulled up outside and we saw a stretch hummer limousine parked, we knew we had come to the right place. After exploring what we thought was every inch of the hotel and not finding even the slightest hint of a bar we were very near admitting defeat, when a woman came up to the four of us (the others had headed to a different club) and ushered us to follow her. After walking ahead of a large line of people, she lifted up a velvet rope and walked us into a hidden elevator where we were sent right up to the top of the hotel and into the mystery bar! I don’t know what it was that made us more important than the huge line of people and meant we not only jumped the queue, but also got in free, and I think it may forever remain a mystery. One thing for sure is, being given the royal treatment in Barcelona is definitely the top of our ‘travel experiences’ list so far. You should have seen the place - €100 just to sit down and four drinks would set you back NZ$90! I imagine we must have looked like utter muppets – eyes agog, smug smiles adorning our faces that would rival the Cheshire cat – we thought we were IT! This experience totally made the weekend and left us feeling pretty proud of ourselves and with rather inflated egos for the rest of the weekend!

The next day we were all understandably, a little slower, but after a good old universal Sunday breakfast, a Big Mac and fries, we were feeling in much better form. We were considerably cheered up when we were reunited with our stags who had the same Big Mac and fries requirements, yet had acquired a bright pink plastic model of the male anatomy during their night’s activities and no recollection of when and where!

After much consideration, we headed to the gothic area of Barcelona where we visited the breathtaking Barcelona Cathedral, timing it perfectly with Sunday mass. The cathedral was absolutely stunning and very much reflective of the gothic area – I loved it and it was a real highlight.

Then of course it was time for more tapas – after all, it had been a whole two hours since we had last eaten! After more miscommunication and ending up with goodness knows what, it was sadly time to head to the bus station to catch a bus to the airport. After missing the 3pm bus by a matter of seconds, we were then alarmed to realise the next bus wasn’t until 4pm! We barely breathed while we waited for the bus and anxiously endured the hour journey to Girona airport, but thankfully and to the relief of everyone’s bank accounts, we made our plane! Those that have travelled with Ryan Air will know how ridiculously nasty they are, but thankfully the generosity and relaxed spirit of the Spanish people trumped the evil Ryan Air staff and we had no issues at all getting on the plane.

We arrived back at home at 9.30pm, which meant we could unpack, do our washing and still wake up relatively refreshed for the working week. Not that it’s a painful one – with Prague and Berlin on Friday’s horizon, the next couple of days are going to be a cinch!

So much love to you all at home – we’re missing you madly but are keeping our minds off of it by jet-setting around Europe left, right and centre!

xx

“No-one ever goes to Belgium on purpose”

So said our British colleagues as we told them that we were heading to Bruges for the weekend, although it’s hard to understand why as we found it to be absolutely delightful!

At 6pm on Friday evening Kylie and I were joined by Kalem (one of my University basketball friends), Julia and Rochelle (two of Kylie’s Hamilton friends) and ‘the official road trip crew’ was formed. We left from the Hubert Hub for a casual drive to Dover, and despite the rain and the traffic we managed to arrive well early at the ferry due to Kylie’s organised 9.30pm booking. After breezing through customs, despite Rochelle’s outrageous flirting with our French customs officer, we drove straight on to our Ferry and parked up for the ride.

Kalem and I spent the first 10 minutes on the ferry reading directions to try and attach stickers to our headlights in the correct position. Apparently headlights in the UK (and NZ) are aimed to the left which is no good if you’re driving on the right. Eventually we gave up and just stuck them on, I mean honestly who uses instructions? We then headed up a few flights to find the girls set up at a bar on the third floor already tucking into ciders where they had kindly bought me, the selfless driver, a diet coke... sigh.

The two hour trip flew by and before we knew it we were driving off the ferry into Calais and the unknown world of driving on the right hand side of the road. Luckily for all in the car, the motorway has a concrete barrier to keep me on the right side!
With the assistance of our Tom Tom we made our way to our apartment in the heart of Bruges. Kindly the owner had waited up for us and ran through all of the facilities in a very loud slow voice which reminded me of Dad at a Chinese garage sale. After the long commute we were all exhausted (apparently it is tiring being chauffeured through three countries), so we divided up the beds and slept soundly for the night.

Our Saturday started with a relaxing sleep in before we ventured to the main centre market. It was a quick five minute walk along the cobbled roads, between the old tall pointed buildings and over the canals, just long enough for us all to build an appetite which meant very different things to each of us. Kylie was busy hunting out fries with mayo, the others wanted waffles and I was keen for a Belgium sausage (mind out of the gutter Kate). Needless to say I prevailed and we all had sausages in baguettes, but this was followed by a second course of fries with mayo... and another sausage for me. The markets were fun as always with everything from clothes and jewellery to live turtles which we were tempted to smuggle back to London. Before we got stuck into more sightseeing we had to stop for waffles where most went for strawberries and cream... all except Kylie who of course went for strawberries, as well as chocolate ice-cream and chocolate sauce (sadly as always Kylie’s happiest moments in all of these travels seem to be when she is inhaling something sweet). After gorging themselves the ladies insisted that we all needed to walk off the waffles although seeing as I had resisted I don’t know how this was fair! We headed to the famous Belfort tower which is a clock/bell tower which overlooks the city, paid our exorbitant ticket price (except Kylie who got in as a youth on account of being just a few months younger, but still in the 25 years age bracket) and hiked the claustrophobic 366 stairs to the view of roof tops... great times.

Still insisting on more sightseeing we went to the Holy Basilica where they held a vial of Christ’s blood. It was a nice church as they all are over here with painted walls and nice stained glass windows. But unfortunately Rochelle said she needed some air (maybe she said let’s get a beer, good catholic girl), so we went to find a pub for some of Belgium’s finest. Disappointingly for all it started to rain so we had to stay for a second. Even more disappointingly it fined up again so we booked ourselves into a restaurant for later in the evening and set back to the apartment.
After showers, make-up, hair straightening, trying on outfits, selecting shoes, trying on more outfits, touching up make-up and changing shoes again, Kalem and I were finally ready to join the girls and head out for dinner. We went to a quaint restaurant and had a nice three course meal before we ventured to a pub which famously served over 250 different types of beer! The girls went for such delicacies as coconut beer and passion fruit beer, and Kalem and I tried, well, a lot. Retrospectively I should have maybe had one less, as a brief walk outside resulted in me getting rather lost with all of the tall pointy building looking the same. Not being able to find the bar I managed to find my way home where the team was waiting. Needless to say we slept very well again in our cosy apartment.

Sunday morning had us heading back into the centre for a nice brunch before we packed the car and started our journey home, via France of course. On the way we detoured through Dunkirk hoping to take in some WWII history, but unfortunately due to time constraints we had to head back to Calais... This was when we had our one driving incident. Instead of sticking to the ‘lefty loosey’ rule, I mistakenly turned a ‘lefty tighty’ and was faced with an oncoming car (don’t worry Mum it was a 30km area... maybe 50km), anyway will a less than manly squeal I stopped just in time and the other car casually drove around me... or they beeped profusely and yelled and shook their fist, it was one of the two. Anyway we survived and got on the ferry in one piece.

Glad to be heading back to a ‘normal’ driving country, we were greeted by the white cliffs of Dover. Once we got off the Ferry we drove up to the cliffs for some photo opportunities and exploring. Basically they are just cliffs made of white chalk, which makes a right mess of the floor mats in your nice Audi. Escaping the rain we wound our way back to London stopping at Pleasure Beach and then a lovely English pub near Maidstone which had been there since the 17th century! A great way to finish a great easy weekend. Bring on Barcelona this weekend and Prague and Berlin with Cara the weekend after.

Love to all, sorry it’s not the usual Kylie standard, I’m sure she’ll be back next time.