Final days in London

Our final days in London passed quickly.

Wednesday morning we headed off by bus to Islington to visit the Victoria Miro Museum in Wharf Road, a contemporary art venue with a fairly minimalist style. The gallery was presenting an exhibition of Paintings and mirror installations by Yayoi Kusama. The installations were all quite breathtaking, but required the suspension of intellect to allow the imaginative force of the visual spectacles created by mirrors and light to emerge and suffuse experience. I found this harder than one might imagine, but once you let go, the visual panorama created by Kusama has the appearance of infinite presence. In once case, she created an immense world of lit cityscapes, quite amazing. another installation involved scores of floating silver balls slightly smaller than basketballs, al mirroring each other and the gardens and us the observers. Her paintings were very similar to western desert acrylic dot paintings, swirls of abstract shapes and colours.

From there, we walked to Ottolenghi's Islington café for lunch, which was superb.

Then into the city on foot, eventually arriving, almost serendipitously, at the Sloane Museum, a rather idiosyncratic, indeed one might say eccentric or bizarre, collection of statues and objects from ancient Rome and Greece, filling this small three story house near the city to overflowing. Sir John Sloane, who lived and collected in the late 1700s, was an architect, and had a clear passion for classical sculpture and architecture. When I suggested to a young attendant that he must have been quite eccentric, she courageously disagreed with me, quite politely, and suggested instead that as the collection was designed to be a teaching aide for classics students who might not easily get to Rome or Greece, he was clearly very public spirited and not eccentric at all.

That was enough for the day, and we headed home arriving around five pm. The evening was largely spent packing up.

Thursday was quiet. We checked out, dropped our luggage at a storage facility in St Pancras, and then walked to St Martin in the Fields in Trafalgar Square to hear a short choral concert on sacred opera music. It was very enjoyable.

Afterwards, Boronia went shopping for fabric while I paid a short visit to the National Gallery. From thence, we headed back to St Pancras, picked up ur luggage and headed to Heathrow.

Our flight home was unexceptional, albeit very long.

We departed Thursday evening at nine thirty pm, stopped in Dubai for an hour, and then onwards to a very wet Sydney and thence to Canberra. We arrived around nine am Saturday, thirty four hours after we took the train to Heathrow. Despite the wet cold weather, it is great to be home!

Betroffenheit

Tuesday 31 May. We split up for the morning, Boronia heading into the city, I went to St Pancras station to sort out a place to leave our bags on Thursday, and then walked through the rain into Trafalgar Square, through a lovely burial ground whose name i can't recall, but which contains the grave of Oliver Cromwells daughter.

After I spent some time perusing in some antiquarian bookshops, we met up late morning at Dover Street markets (no longer located in Dover Street, but in Haymarket), an incredibly upmarket store selling clothes and accessories, many with four figure prices. We had lunch at the cafe, light and enjoyable.

We spent an hour and a bit in the National Portrait Gallery, which was very enjoyable. I enjoyed the section on the Tudors and their times, admired a replica of the Chandon portrait of Shakespeare, the original being on loan elsewhere, and spotted good portraits of Samuel Pepys and John Evelyn, both seventeenth century diarists.

After an hour back in Shoreditch, we headed out to dinner with Elisabetta and her partner Richard at a lovely Tapas Bar called Moritos in Exmouth Market. Then on to Sadlers Well for a performance of Betroffenheit. The word refers to a state of shock, or deep consternation.

And what an extraordinary performance it was. Directed by Canadian choreographer Crystal Pite and theatre director and actor Jonathan Young, the performance was a dazzling combination of confronting sounds, searching lighting, constraining spaces (at times actually compressing the physical shapes of the actors/dancers into miniatures of themselves. Above all, it combined dramatic intensity and brilliant choreography (including puppetry) to bring the audience into the mind of a person confronted with an overwhelming shock or crisis. All this was delivered with technical sophistication and precision and masterfully mixed to achieve a level of psychic symbiosis or empathy between the audience and the actors, and in particular, the plight of the main character whose mind is being shredded and reassembled before our eyes. After three standing ovations, we emerged with a sense of having experienced something quite special, having been granted access to the experience of deep shock without the associated pain. Strangely, it left me at least uplifted, as its ultimate message appeared to be optimistic and positive without in any way erasing the existence or meaning of the pain that inevitably accompanies any (or more appropriately) every life.

So after the previous days workmanlike performance of Romeo and Juliet, we both felt extremely privileged to have had the opportunity to be part of a performance which soars, and is truly extra- ordinary. Our thanks to Lisabetta for encouraging us to book tickets!

metaphor for life

Monday. After a slow start, and some reading, we headed to Hampstead for a look around and lunch with Nola. Very pleasant. Then a short walk on Hampstead Heath, past residences marked with the blue marker identifying notable people who had lived in that place. Todays markers included Marie Stopes and JB Priestley, familiar names of whom I know very little real detail of their lives. Stopes was a pioneer advocate for women reproductive health, Priestley a novelist and critic whose work i have never read.

Upon our return to the Hampstead village,we witnessed a police operation with sirens blaring as they closed off the main road to vehicles and pedestrian traffic. The word on the street was that a second world war bomb had been discovered in a nearby house or garden. Then, as quickly as it began, it was over and the street was back to normal. A metaphor for life: long periods of routine and normality interspersed with moments of excitement and the extraordinary, which disappear before one has had a chance to understand what happened.

Back to Aldgate for a nap,and then to the city to see the Kenneth Branagh Theatre Company's production of Romeo and Juliet. Enjoyable, well produced, some moments of zing, but overall lacking in spark. Boronia seemed to enjoy it more than me.

An enjoyable day.

An enjoyable weekend in London

Yesterday (Saturday 28 May) we decided to visit the Brixton markets. A thirty minute tube ride saw us emerge into the grey skies above a much grittier and grimy patch of London, populated by a much more colourful and esoteric collection of Londoners. We were a little early, so wandered around for an hour - I bought three books in an op shop: Will Self's The Book of Dave; a nice edition of George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty Four, and an Oxford University Press book by John Gross, After Shakespeare: Writing inspired by the Worlds Greatest Author. The plan was to have something to read on the flight home, but I may have over-indulged; a bit of a theme for this trip!

The markets were largely practical affairs, focussed on the quotidian needs of the locals. There was a small craft market, the Crafty Fox, which was populated by a flock of largely insipid but nice craftspeople selling cards, some pottery, more cards, and some more pottery. Bearing in mind that they deserve points for effort, and add diversity, perhaps i should not be so critical. In any case, we were not tempted to buy anything apart form a cup of tea.

Afterwards we made our way by bus to a small food market near the south bank of the Thames, close to Tower Bridge where a short street was filled to the brim with hundreds of people sussing out about twenty or thirty food stalls, a plethora of different products, from sushi burgers to high end fillet steak and chips, with much in between. We settled for a vegetarian option, a felafel and lebanese salad, which was delicious.

We then joined the throngs of tourists crossing the Tower Bridge, walked by the even larger sea of people laying siege to the Tower itself, noting some of the external points of interest: the 'traitors gate'; the 'cradle tower' from whence Jesuit priest John Gerrard escaped at some point in the early 1600s, at least according to the information posted outside.

We decided to give the Crown Jewels display within a miss, and walked on into the city.

I was keen to track down Samuel Pepys abode, in Seething Lane nearby. I had read Claire Tomalin's biography fifteen years ago, and moved on to reading selected extracts of Pepys' celebrated diaries themselves. Most entertaining, particularly given that he was a mere public servant. IN fact, while best known for his diaries, Pepys made perhaps he most important contribution to building the British navy, and thus establishing Britain as a pre-eminent global power in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

We found the location we sought, but there was  no trace of the house, nor  even a specific plaque, in evidence. Instead, a major development was being erected and the two metre fence surrounding it displayed a short narrative recounting Pepys work and residential arrangements (he had been employed by the Navy Board and his house was adjacent to his office) along with a short description of the Great Fire of London in 1665 for which Pepys diary is a major documentary source.

We enjoyed looking into the burial ground adjacent to St Olaves church nearby, where Pepys and his wife are interred, and then walked on to a nearby ruins, the church of St Dunstan in the East, and its lovely small garden. From there, we ambled north towards Aldgate, and home.

Dinner was at the amazing Pizza East restaurant in Shoreditch. Loud, dark, buzzing with energy, we sat at a bar looking into the pizza ovens as three chefs worked like trojans producing terrific pizzas and other mediterranean fare. Four stars!

This morning, I stayed home and read while Boronia headed out to some nearby markets. Late morning we headed to St Pancras station and then walked down to Bloomsbury to visit the Foundlings Museum. We were particularly interested in an exhibition on the theme of 'lost', but we both found the whole museum to be fascinating and quite moving. It recounts a very thin slice father histories of the thousands of 'foundling' children assisted over the past two centuries. The museum also incorporates explicit acknowledgement of the artistic community over the centuries which has supported the Foundling Home headquartered nearby, including a small room dedicated to Handel, who was a benefactor.

From there, I was keen to walk by the residences of the Bloomsbury group in Gordon Square, in particular, the residence of JM Keynes, who biography (by Robert Skidelsky in three volumes I read a decade or so ago).

Then a walk into the city, via a quick detour through the British Museum (too big and crowded to persuade us to stay) and ultimately to dinner in a terrific Italian restaurant in Soho where again we sat at the bar and watched the six chefs, all italians, produce an amazing array of wonderful dishes as if they were members of an orchestra.

So that was our weekend. Boronia enjoyed the variety of markets, I took particular pleasure from visiting the former residences of perhaps the two most influential public servants in British history, men I have read so much about, and who inspire through their capacity to change the world. And we both found the Foundlings Museum moving and enjoyable.

Londinium

Well this morning we expected rain, but none appeared. After we sorted outsides out, we headed to Islington to meet Lisbetta, a friend of Boronia who is a dance choreographer and artist. We spent an hour or so at Yotam Ottolenghi's Islington cafe chatting, and then she too us on a walk along the Regents Canal, a wonderful surprise in the centre of the city: peaceful, quiet, we watched a boatman drop his vessel through one of the locks, walked past some police divers exploring for some unknown object hiding beneath the waters surface, and generally enjoyed the ambience of the canal.

Next was a visit to the Barbican Theatre to see what was happening there: short answer is not much, or at least not much that fits our interests and time frame. But just around the corner is the London Museum, so we popped in there and spent a pleasant two hours examining the displays and objects recounting London's history, from prehistoric times,through to the Roman occupation (veni, vidi, vinci!).

I was particularly interested in material relating to Shakespeare's time, and Samuel Pepys, a diarist and public servant who wrote about his daily life in London in the middle 1600s, including famously about the Great Fire of London. There was some material relevant to these interests, but not a lot. Nevertheless, it was very interesting and enjoyable.

It reminded me of one of the first books I read as a young boy, a three volume school textbook of English history which had belonged to one of my my father's parents, and possibly to one of his grandparents. I read and reread these books when i was about ten, learning about King Alfred, the battle of Hastings, the Duke of Wellington, and much more. I remembered a funny story my mother told me about my school days. I had a lovely teacher in Grade Three at Blackfriars School i Adelaide, Mrs Berowksi, and one day parents hd been invited to come to school to see what was going on. My father was in the classroom, reading some students work pinned to the wall, not really listening to the lesson, when Mrs Berowksi, in a forceful tone, said: "Mr Dillon, who was the Queen of the Angles who fought the Romans?" My father was rather startled, as he thought he was being addressed, and hadn't a clue as to the answer. But suddenly, I piped up and responded: " Queen Boudicea, Mrs Berowksi". Apparently my Dad gave a sigh of relief! He hadn't realised that at Blackfriars, in Grade Three, the students were referred to as Mr so and so as a matter of course.

After the Museum, we spent an hour walking the two kilometres or so back to our accommodation, via various markets, a street demonstration of abut twenty people making a din and racket that resembled two hundred, crowds of drinkers spilling onto the streets from the many public houses, and throngs of workers heading home. We arrived here about six thirty, making it a nine hour day.

All in all, a very pleasant day.

Last days in France

Monday was quiet


Tuesday we walked for a coupe of hours through villages along the southern ridge of the valley we have been staying in. the walks were well marked,and the three villages we visited were all quite old, small and austere, but pleasant.

After lunch we drove to Ales to visit the gallery which was surprisingly interesting, as it was built around the collection and work of a lesser known artist, Benoit, who was quite well connected with many of the modernist artists in France in the early part of the 20th century. His glass work, and prints were terrific. The museum itself was well presented, and a pleasure to visit. We then drove to Sommiere to the south, a town built around a roman era bridge, seven spend of which are still standing. We were less impressed with this place.

Tuesday was quiet, as I was tired of driving every day for most of the day. We visited local market in St Quentin de Poteries, a lovely town just north of Uzes. After a pleasant meal in a local Salon de The, we headed back to Audabiac and just rested up. That afternoon we visited a local woman, Giselle, a friend of the inn keepers we were staying with, at her invitation for tea. She had lived in Canada and the USA, and seemed keen to engage with us as she had clearly been quite outgoing throughout her life, but she was now constrained by her husbands illness to care for him. We learned a lot about the village, is various interest groups, and so on.

Wednesday, after farewells dot our hosts at Domaine d"Audabiac, a lovely place to stay, we drove to Toulouse via a detour to a Nimes gas station where we queued for nearly two hours due to a national strike, a visit to Pezares which was interesting, and finally a walk around the centre of Toulouse and dinner in a local Indian vegetarian restaurant.

Today, Thursday, we flew to London, again with a two hour delay on the tarmac due to the strike.

We are staying in Spitalfield in north east London, lots of energy, restaurants, markets, and funky shops. We did some exploring, but will need an early nite given our early start.

I have to apologise for the sparce tone of these notes, but am too tired to provide more than a brief summary of our experiences.

weekend peregrinations

Yesterday (Saturday 21 May) was quiet. We drove in to the Uzes markets, which were much larger than the Wednesday version. After an hour and a half of browsing, we headed home. I was feeling ill,and Boronia had been not feeling well earlier, so we decided to call it quits for the day. I lay down and promptly slept for three hours. I assume Boronia read while I rested. Dinner was a spanish omelette Boronia conjured up from eggs bought at the market and some potatoes we had left over from earlier market forays.

Today was more energetic. We drove west to Ales, with the intention of visiting the Museum there, unfortunately it is only open tin the afternoon. We did stop in at a suburban market, where i bought a coffee in a bar full of north african men, boronia spent twenty minutes in the market, again largely serving north african community.

We drove on to Banne, a lovely community in the lower Ardeche,where we had lunch in an upmarket restaurant and then walked for an hour. We drove on to the village of Nave, which was perched on the side of a steep hill, and boasted a 'botanical walking track' which Boronia could not resist. So we climbed the path, up steep spillway of limestone shards, and obtained a terrific view of the valley and the village of Nave.

The drive to Audabiac was unexceptional. We checked into our new lodgings, the Domaine d'Audabiac, a quite luxurious Chambre d'Hote, located in one of the larger villas in the village; a distinct contrast to the minuscule accommodation we were comfortably ensconsed in previously.

relaxed exploration

Yesterday (Thursday 19 May) we went exploring, drove across to Bagnol sur Ceze, then Pont d'Esprit, where we visited the Museum of Sacred Art ( a hidden gem), then inland up the Ceze valley. A pleasant days travelling, with great scenery, some pleasant stops in villages, and the highlight being an hours walking through forest at a former monastery, whose name escapes me.....

Today we drove to Avignon. The Palace of the Popes, built in the 14th century was very impressive, and a great introduction to the history of the region and the city. A couple of galleries were less spectacular, but quite pleasant.

We were home by four pm, and spent a pleasant evening walking around Audabiac, preparing dinner and reading. I have been reading the Wikipedia entry on Avignon, which is fascinating, and a great complement to todays visit. The trivial fact of the day is that John Stuart Mill died in Avignon and is buried in the cemetery.

Glee, sore feet, and serendipity

Yesterday we decided to take a stroll over to Lusson, a ten or twelve kilometre return trek. There are marked walking trails seemingly everywhere, so we just walked up behind the village and were immediately able to begin following a marked trail. The garrigue is the term for the undergrowth which covers the limestone hills here, it is dense and low, almost impenetrable. Wildflowers are ubiquitous much to Boronia's glee; she must have stopped fifteen or twenty times to take photos, the most interesting being a particularly beautiful orchid in bloom.

Lusson is a walled village high on a hill overlooking the valley. It is surrounded by farm land, and a few solitary farm houses. We climbed up, obtained a map of the village in a very quiet tourism office, and explored, for my part looking for a cafe or bar to buy coffee. Unfortunately for me,and fortunately for Lusson's tranquility, it has managed to resist the temptation for any retail activities within the village, at least on Wednesdays....there were indications of former cafes and tea rooms, but nothing open. The walk back was hot and footsore, but satisfying nonetheless.

Afterwards we drove to Fons sur Lusson,a village about eight kms from here in Audabiac, to buy some supplies, and drove home via a circuitous route through a number of the surrounding hamlets and villages.

This morning, we decided to have a look at the Uzes weekly market and then drive to Nimes to see what is on offer. Apart from narrow roads and a horrendous traffic issue, exacerbated by the road works underway around he old city, the city was quite splendid. A roman temple from the first century AD, a ruined roman tower atop some extensive gardens, a temple dedicated (at least in name) to the Goddess Diana, plus lots of boutiques and shops. The whole centre of town is dominated by pedestrian malls/walkways, making it a very pleasant place to explore.

After a home cooked dinner of grilled salmon, and some research on our next accommodation and our plans for the coming days, we reverted to some quiet reading time.

Boronia is reading the Catherine Jinks novel on the inquisition which i read a week or so back; I am wading my way through a feminist analysis of Shakespeare's Roman plays. Feminist social analysis is not my usual reading, so it is a revelation of sorts to see what can be wrung from Shakespeare's texts when you combine deep knowledge classical sources, an intelligent eye, and a close reading of the texts themselves and the contexts within which they were written and presented.

Tomorrow's plans will be finalised over breakfast; serendipity reigns still!

Barcelona to Audabiac via Uzes

I have been derelict in keeping this account of our travels up to date, so may skate over some elements.

On Thursday 12 May, we headed out of Amelies les Bains for Barcelona. We stopped by Banyule sur Mer to visit the small farmhouse where Aristide Maillol lived, worked and is now buried. The house is now a small gallery, with a lovely selection of sculptures, photographs and a couple of installations recreating the original rooms. Maillol is buried in the garden under a sculpture of his muse. I found it very satisfying to refresh my appreciation of his life and work.

The drive to Barcelona was relatively straightforward. We stayed in a hotel about 18kms from the city centre at Llobregad de Corbera.

Friday we took a bus and metro trip into the city. A walk through the streets, a visit to the Museum of Contemporary Art, which we found disappointing in that its exhibition on Punk culture didn't really speak to us! A visit to a small gallery displaying remnants of the roman wall around the city was interesting, then a visit to another gallery focussed on the work of a Spanish sculptor Francisco Clara which again was disappointing as it had few works of any real merit.

Saturday was much more interesting. A visit to the Museo Picasso, focussed on his early career was a real pleasure. Picasso's artistic skills and creative energy stood out in virtually everything he touched.

I tried to book a tour of Barcelona's civil war sites, largely described in Orwell's Homage o Catalonia, which I read when i was at school and reread at university for a course on anarchism when doing my M.Litt at UNE. Unfortunately we had left it too late and the tours were booked out.

Sunday morning, after some indecision abut where to go, we headed north, originally thinking to head to Albi, but deciding en route to head to the visage of Uzes in Languedoc. We booked a night in a hotel while we searched for something longer. Uses is a terrific town, on the cusp of a tourism boom, but quite delightful notwithstanding. We wandered around the town for a couple of hours soaking up the atmosphere. Dinner in a very pleasant bistro, "Ten", with a less traditional menu.

Monday involved a slow start, a french breakfast at the hotel, coffee and croissant, then Boronia set to work to try to find accommodation were we could cook for ourselves. We finally settled on a place in a micro village - maybe a hamlet is a better description - named Audabiac, some three kilometres outside the town of Lussan, some 20 odd kilometres north of Uzes.

We then spent a few hours exploring Uzes, and came across an extraordinary antique shop called Atmosphere. The shop contained scores, if not under of antique and highly decorated walking sticks, priced in the hundreds of euros each, plus a vast selection of other desirable objects, all quite expensive. I asked about a small silver box, with the masonic insignia etched on its lid, to be told in was two hundred euros. I estimated that the sale value of the total stock must exceed a million euros, an extraordinary store!

Next we headed off on a drive toward Avignon. We decided to explore Pont du Gare, not knowing anything at all about it. It is an extraordinary roman bridge built in the first century AD, some 160 feet high, and a key element in a fifty kilometre aqueduct taking water from a spring near Uzes to Nimes. The wikipedia page on Pont du Garde is worth a read.

Finally we headed to Audabiac, having confirmed our accommodation request during the day. We have booked ourselves in till next Sunday. We arrived to discover we are lodged in a delightful two story medieval cottage, stone walls, exposed wooden beams, very comfortable and compact. It has all the essentials, good hot water, wifi, a firm bed, and a refrigerator and stove. It will be an excellent base from which to explore the surrounding region and do some extended walking. The hamlet of Audabiac is quiet, and very pretty, a typical village Provencale.

Serendipity wins out

Today, Wednesday 11 May, was a day of exploration. We headed north towards Villefranche le Conflents, a medieval village/fort on an earlier spanish/french border. We took the back route up through the mountains north of Ceret, on seemingly endless narrow roads high above the valleys below, and serendipitously came upon the restored Priere de Serrabone, a lovely medieval church with carved marble pillars, and lovely stonework. I can't do it justice in this short paragraph.

Then onwards, via a visit to the village of Eus, one of Frances "plus belle villages", which looks terrific nested against the hillside, but had little to recommend it up close.

Villefranche was impressive, a walled town nestled within a steep gorge, but is going the way of Carcassonne as it is full of retail outlets. We walked through the town, which has an interesting history, both as a fort in the wars over the spanish / french border, and as a prison for wealthy parisennes after the revolution, including some thirty women who were held for thirty years accused of witchcraft. In pouring rain, we took shelter in a cave in the limestone cliffs opposite the village.

We headed home via Prades and the pretty village of Castelnou, then via Thuile to Ceret, and on to Arles sur Tech before arriving at our accommodation in Amelies les Bains close to seven pm.

The highlight of the day was the Priere de Serrabone, stark and severe in many ways, located on a remote mountain top, but confirmation both that serendipity is worth a score of plans, and that artis both timeless and enduring. I was particularly taken with the carving of the archangel Michael slaying a dragon/devil.

Tomorrow we head to Barcelona, hopefully via a museum near Banyule dedicated to the memory of Aristide Maillol, one of my favourite sculptors.

Discovering the joys of Ceret

On Saturday 7 May we drove to Saint Girons and St Lizier to the north west of Foix. These towns would have been substantial stopovers for us had we undertaken the walk we originally planned, so it was good to see them.

The markets at Saint Girons were huge, full of local produce and artefacts, throngs of people weaving in and our of the stalls....Boronia had a great time assessing what was on offer. I had a quick look, then retreated for a coffee, although i did manage to pick up a feminist analysis of Shakespeare's Roman plays....

The cite at St Lizier was impressive, not as large as Carcassonne, but to my mind much more authentic and enjoyable. The medieval cathedral/church had some terrific stained glass windows, and a nice feel to it. Boronia lit a candle, maybe part of her prayers for me....

We then drove to Foix, took the train to Toulouse to pick up some of our baggage, and to pick up a new hire car.

The following day was wet and miserable. We drove down the freeway towards Perpignan, then turned south to wend our way through the back roads. The country was wonderful, but the most scenic parts were shrouded in cloud and rain. Still we found ourselves at Cucugnan, a delightful little village with a mill on the hill and a twelfth century church in the village. We had a very enjoyable lunch at a local restaurant, and went on our way. Finally arrived at Amelies les Bains around sic pm.

Monday was very wet, so we drove to Collioure on the coast, had soup and dessert in a pleasant little restaurant and managed to get soaked notwithstanding our raincoats. We stopped in Ceret on the way back, and saw enough to tell us it is a very interesting place.

Today, Tuesday 10 May, we climbed out of Ceret on a two and half hour return walk to the Ermitage Saint Ferroule (who I think is the patron saint of Ceret). It was hot and humid, but a good workout. We returned to our starting point, the thirteenth century pont du diable (which is an impressive piece medieval engineering over the river tech, at least thirty meters high.

Then a quick bite and a coffee at a cafe, and onto the Ceret art gallery, where we spent a very pleasant hour or so enjoying an exhibition by a portuguese /french artist, Helena Vieira da Silva. Neither of us had ever heard of her, but we both liked her work very much.

Pablo Picasso spent some time living in Ceret around 1903, along with a group of other artists. The Gallery has a small selection of his work, and the whole town celebrates its artistic heritage, which makes it a pleasure to explore.

Tomorrow we expect more rain, and we will drive north to explore some of the scenic villages in the Pyrenees Orientales. Then we head to Barcelona for three days before returning to France, possibly via Huesca or Lerida, and through one of the passes in the Haute Pyrenees.

Five days near Foix

Our five days in Foix are coming to an end.

We have been staying in a very comfortable Chambre d'Hote called Les Sapines in a small town just south of Foix called Montgailhard. The hosts Helga and John are extremely hospitable and find just the right balance between assistance, advice and allowing us our independence and autonomy.

We flew from London to Toulouse last Sunday, and then took the train to Foix, arriving at our accommodation late afternoon.

We hired a car Monday and headed to Mirepoix for the weekly market day, and then on to Montsegur,  an ancient catcher village/fort situated on the summit of a 1200 metre hill rising steeply from the surrounding countryside. It was the site of a ten month siege in 1243/44, at the end of which some 200 Cathar 'heretics' were burned at the stake at the foot of the mountain.

We climbed to the summit and tramped around the ruins, then proceeded to the museum in the village nearby. All quite interesting. I had simultaneously been reading a novel by an Australian author, Catherine Jinks, called the Inquisitor, set in nearby regions in he eleventh century, which gives an extremely illuminating perspective into the mindset of the Inquisition and the complexity of religious and political beliefs in medieval Europe.

Tuesday we drove south into the mountains (or perhaps the foothills might be more accurate), parked the car and walked for two hours up a valley, 'up' being the operative word. Tramping through beautiful beech forests along a part of the GR 10 which is the name of the walking track from the mediterranean to the atlantic through the Pyrenees. The views were spectacular, snow not too far above us.

That evening at dinner we decided to change our plans and not try to walk the GR78 as we had planned. My knees are not up to it, and Boronia has a shoulder injury. Our new plan is to hire a car and spend some time in different locations, where we can walk (without packs) for a couple of hours every day or second day.

Wednesday we drove to Ax le Therme, then (following a navigation error on my part) across to a town called Axat. The countryside was dramatic, we explored an old castle at Puitres, and enjoyed serendipitously exploring the countryside.

Thursday 5 May was allocated to walking part of the GR78 along a small part of our originally planned route. We drove to a point about eight kms to the east of Mas d'Azil, and walked for two hours into the village through beech forest, muddy trails, and along the edge of a lake. The village was neat, and charming, made more so by the bar/brasserie we found to serve us coffee and creme catalan. The walk back was shorter as we took the road as it was very hot. After four hours walking, hot, knees sore, tired, we were glad to reach our car. Sitting beside it was a young French lad walking from Narbonne to Cape Finisterre in western Spain, he had no map, a large pack and was camping all the way. He seemed very content, and gratefully accepted some water and biscuits.

He reminded me of my travels in 1973, riding from London to Perpingnan, and then hitchhiking to Barcelona, and on to Pamplona, camping in a swag and living off around a dollar a day.

Friday we drove to Carcassonne. I had never been there, and while the old city and the fortress are impressive, i was hugely disappointed by the commercialisation and the crowds of tourists. On the way, we visited an old Romanesque church form the eleventh century (or older) in the village of Vals. It is unique in heat it is built into the rocks on the hillside, and has three internal levels inside, plus above the altar were a number of lovely frescoes depicting religious events (the annunciation etc).

Tomorrow we plan to head to St Girons for their market day, then return to Foix and take the train to Toulouse where we pick up a new hire car and head to Amies les Bains down near the Spanish border on the mediterranean side. We will explore the surrounding area for four days or so, and then decide where to go next. Possibilities include south to Spain, Languedoc,or even Provence....

First days in the UK

Our 2016 European Trek.

We arrived in London last Wednesday afternoon. Managed to settle into our accommodation near St James Park ok, and explore the surroundings a little.

Thursday was busy, we went into the city to sort out some issues with Boronia's SIM card with her provider, then took a bus to Pimlico hoping to visit the Saatchi Gallery. We got there to discover the exhibition was on the Rolling Stones, so we passed and headed on via a long and circuitous walk to the Tate Britain, which was wonderful. I particularly enjoyed a full length portrait of Queen Elizabeth I by Steven van der Meulen, pointed in 1563, relatively early inner reign. There was a terrific collection of British art and artists.

Next stop was the Courtauld Gallery, a small but very high quality collection of European and Middle Eastern art. I particularly enjoyed a Cezanne of a French village, an early and uncharacteristic still life of a vase of flowers by Picasso, and many more.

Then a serendipitous discovery of an exhibition at Kings University of key documents associated with Shakespeare's life. Quite interesting, the real pleasure was in seeing original documents such as his will, court documents in which he was a witness and so forth.

Friday morning we headed to Bermondsley to visit an antiques market....more akin to a flea market.....I was tempted to buy some pewter snuff boxes, but resisted the temptation. Around lunch time we took the train to Oxford to see friends, Katherine (a former colleague of mine from the ILC) and her family, and Shona, an ex-colleague of Boronias. And of course, I couldn't resist the exhibition at the Bodleian Library "Shakespeare's Dead' which was fascinating in that it brought together all sorts of thematic consistencies throughout Shakespeare's plays regarding his approach to death, the impact of the plague on London during his lifetime, and much much more. I couldn't resist the temptation to buy the book of the exhibition, plus a short volume on the making of the First Folio. We arrived back in London around ten pm.

This morning (Saturday 30 April) as I write this, Boronia is off at the markets in Southwark, and I will focus on packing my pack for the walking segment of our trip, and do some reading.

London's weather has been fine, but very cold. hopefully it will warm up for our walk in France.

Hopefully Boronia will supplement these observations soon.