Howdy Gaudi

Whether you love him or loathe him, you have to admit that Gaudi was a master of creativity.

We've just spent a few days traipsing around Barcelona looking at his buildings and the city park and have been amazed by both his attention to detail (from doorknobs to frog gargoyles) and his approach to architecture.

That sounds a bit brochure-speak I know, but he really had a unique way of looking at things. This photo is of a chimney from the roof of an apartment building he designed. The building has no corners, virtually no walls (lots of windows and arches to let in natural light), an attic modelled on a snake skeleton and an undulating roof with these crazy chimneys and air vents.

Octopus in the garage

I like speaking Spanish - I'm not sure anyone else enjoys me speaking it, but I like it. I never really got the hang of the Castilian lisp - perhaps people thought I was from South America...and perhaps not.

Words I particularly like:

• Llave, billete, sencillo - not because I'm fond of keys, tickets or one-way streets, I just like the sound of the double l.



• Quisiera la cuenta por favor - this has such a lovely rhythm, and everyone knows what it means.



• Helardos, cerveza, tostados - because very good things happen when you say these words!

My favourite phrase, for when you feel out of place, is encontrarse como un pulpo en un garaje - like an octopus in the garage. Unfortunately I couldn't work it into casual conversation.

Andalucia

If you're sick of winter and over work, best not read on - just know we're in Spain.

For others, I raise my cerveza to you from a beach bar in the south of Spain. Have just spent some warm days in Andalucia, searching for Moorish arches, mountains and good food, and discovering the joys of shady plazas, colourful tiles and olive groves.

Things to cross off my list-of-things-to-do: survive an EasyJet scrum in Berlin airport, spend a luxurious afternoon in an arabic bathhouse, perfect the art of tapas grazing, bodysurf in the Mediterranean (never seen anything other than a ripple before!), have breakfast in a Spanish truckstop, see the Sierra Nevada (would also have stopped at some Eastwood and Wayne film sets if I'd been driving), finally say entiendio (I understand) to someone, rather than my usual no entiendio.

Five fab figures about Berlin

5. This is official closing time (5am to 6am) as stated by Federal law. No-one seems to pay any attention to this - crazy nocturnal people.

106 kilometres of Berlin Wall, 3.6 metres high, 302 watchtowers, separating east and west Berlin for 28 years. There is now a double row of cobblestones to mark where it was.

21 seconds to go from 0 to 100km/h in the mostly plastic, official East German sedan, the beautiful Trabant.

410 000 deciduous trees in the city, as well as 174 museums (my pick is the Pergamon which, amongst other gems, holds the Ishtar Gates of Babylon), 200 galleries, 9 500 pubs and restaurants and countless statues and monuments (my pick is the empty-shelved underground library marking the burning of over 20 000 books in 1933).

2 favourite quotes about Berlin: JFK's well-intentioned declaration of solidarity "Ich bin ein Berliner" by which he identified himself as the pictured pastry; and a reference by the mayor of the city's financial status "Arm arbor sexy" - poor but sexy.

Berlin by night

Arrived at Berlin’s glossy new hauptbahnhof after dark and because the rain had cleared, we were treated to our own guided bike tour of the city sights – highly recommended!

Rolling with the Rhine

Have just had a cruisy week pedalling down the Rhine with a Berlin-based friend (aka 'Hildegard') - starting at bustling old Heidelberg and ending (train-assisted) with the gothic spires and gargoyles of Cologne.

The days were clear – which I understand is an anomaly for this German summer – and packed with vines and wines, castles, medieval villages and aquatic traffic (and a fair bit of ugly industry and electricity towers, but if you squint a bit, it all looks lovely).

Much to Flash’s relief, we sent the tent back home and have been mostly staying in quirky little guesthouses along the river and waking up with church bells in the morning.

One of the nicest things about the guesthouses is the ceremony of fruhstuck or breakfast. Guests are shown to their tables in the special fruhstuck zimmer, greeting other guests as they enter and then share a fruhstuck buffet and some heart-starting beverages.

As Jane Austen would have said (had she been cycling down the Rhine with us in anything other than the book I’m reading), “to wish one’s fellow fruhstuckers a pleasant morning and a hearty appetite is a very agreeable exercise in cordiality and good will”.

Hunnebeds rock! (boom tish)

We've been on the trail of these prehistoric marvels through Drenthe province, which is a bit of a hunnebed hotspot.

They are unassumingly situated next to corn fields and in woods and range in size from the simple bedsit variety to the extended family commune variety.

They raised more questions than they answered (how? why? where from??) but we now gather that they are graves constructed circa Stonehenge from rocks deposited (maybe from Scandinavia) during the last ice age.

Van Gogh, Vermeer and van Wensveens

Yes, we're mixing it with all the big names over here.

Using the Auntie Vonnie Art Appreciation Technique of starting upstairs and working down, we whiled away quite a few hours in the Mauritshuis with the Golden Age painters and in the Kroller Muller museum with Van Gogh and his contemporaries.

Highlights for Flash were Gerrit Dou's finely detailed domestic scenes and Vermeer's Delft. For me, the girl and her earring was a standout and Rembrandt's old lady looking at a coin - what these two could do with light and expression was extraordinary.

The collection (and the building) at the K-M is fantastic, and we were able to spend more lovely hours with the 50 or so Van Goghs, and Dutch and French painters of the same era and then wander through the sculpture garden and woods.

Of course our most important stops have been St Kruis, Zoetemeer, Laag Keppel and Arnhem - wonderful to catch up with family!

Five great things about being in Holland

1. I haven't had to spell van Wensveen. Not even once.

2. Bikes rule! There are 20 000 km of bike paths in the Netherlands - some better than the roads - bikes often have right of way in traffic and they have their own roundabouts, parking lots, traffic lights and signposts. So very civilised.

3. Bosvrucht (forest fruit) is in season - raspberries, mulberries, blueberries and the like. It is delicious in all forms - straight off the plant, in tea, in dessert and Flash's favourite, the oh-so-natural bosvruchten sugar sprinkles.

4. Wear and tear on sunglasses is fairly minimal at the moment.

5. There's a lot packed into a small area! We've visited the canal-lined beauty of Delft, Gouda and Leiden south of Amsterdam, Zeeland's peaceful countryside in the south, the woods and heathlands of Drenthe and Gelderland's national parks and the bovine and birdy Friesian islands. All this in less than 2 weeks.

Que?

We've arrived in the Low (flat but windy) Countries and are giving our quads a workout through Belgium.

Leaving France, we've discovered the linguistic challenge of switching languages. Flash had an interesting moment yesterday in Ghent. He asked a lady in the tourist office - in German (?) - whether she spoke French. When she said no, he asked - in French - whether she spoke English (luckily she did).

Tonight we're in Brugges after enjoying a couple of days of waffles, Flemish architecture, praline, canals and hoardes of tourists.

Bordeaux

After a few days biking through grapes and abbeys in the Gironde, we've reached Bordeaux and are waiting for a train north. If you're going to be stranded for a couple of days, Bordeaux is the place to do it. It's a beautiful city - lots of open space, monuments and boulevards, gothic churches and funky art.

We spent the morning in the antique and second hand galleries - an eclectic and colourful mix of chandeliers, cigar smoke, clocks, furniture, rugs and crockery (no wattles Suzette). Most interesting finds were a sword and banjo set, a goat foot coat rack and a faux history book with a secret compartment.

Otherwise we've just been wandering about and sampling the local cuisine in the bistros and cafes. And of course toasting our new Bordelaise cousin with the very quaffable regional wines - congratulations!

Clams and chateaux

A quick update after a sodden day in the Perigord. Some thoughts:

• Markets in this region are fabulous! There's a roving schedule where each town hosts an open-air or covered market once a week, selling local and seasonal produce as well as brocante (bric and/or brac).
  
• As we travelled from Quercy to Perigord the houses turned from white to golden, reflecting the change in local rock.
  


• The villages around here were built in medieval times (and sometimes before) when the rivers were the primary source of trade and transport.
  


• We've hit chateau country! There are some very grand houses and grounds to ogle as we cycle.
  


• We've come across many walkers travelling through France to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. This is a three month pilgrimage to the shrine of St James. Just follow the clams.

Cool green

It's hard to describe how lovely it is to ride through these woods. They're dark and cool and fresh, with groovy mosses and lichens and lots of ferns and undergrowth for little things to bustle around in.

And after slogging your way uphill for half an hour, there's nothing like a snakey downhill through the cool green to make you feel human again.

Quirky Quercy

So here we are in Quercy, following the Lot and Cele rivers (slowly) west. Great place to ride, with limestone cliffs, oak and walnut woods (there's truffles in them thar hills - but not until November), bubbling waterways and mostly peaceful roads.

The villages over the past few days have been extraordinary - the most striking either perched on hilltops or hugging rockfaces - some houses literally cemented onto the cliffs.

Many of the buildings are half stone, half timbered - built in medieval times and added to in subsequent centuries. Lots of turrets, cobbles and, oddly, beautifully constructed dovecotes.

Five things to like about the French

1. They love their dogs. All sorts and they're allowed everywhere.

2. They love their sport. We've had many pub conversations about le Tour which inevitably lead to rugby when they find out we're Australian. Met a bartender in Paris who was a motorbike rider for the Tour cameramen for three years!

3. They love their vegie gardens. Always a few tomatoes, lettuce and beans in the corner of the backyard and a chair to enjoy it.

4. Contrary to popular belief, they are very friendly. Every French cyclist has given us a "bonjour" or comiseration/encouragement, depending on where we were on the hill. Also, every shopkeeper has bonjoured us in and wished us a good day/evening/ride when we leave.

5. I maybe idealistic but they seem to be fairly eco-minded. At least half the cars are diesel, there is a push for public transport and bikes and lots of windfarms and hydro power.

Ahoy-hoy

Have abandoned hills temporarily. Instead of heading south and flirting with the Pyrenees, we've headed west along the towpaths of one of the big canals towards Toulouse and the Dordogne. The canal we're tracking runs through sunflower and wheat country and was built by an enterprising young engineer in the 17th C to link the Atlantic and Mediterranean.

It's a bit cross country, but paths are lined with plane trees and places to picnic and watch boats float up and down through the locks (I love locks - they're so simple and clever). Very restive. Very flat. Very Wind in the Willows - there are even water rats and we think we saw a woodpecker.

My new favourite word

My new favourite word is truc. My dictionary says this means thingamybob and can be used successfully to convince the locals that the word is right on the tip of your tongue (when in fact you have no idea what the word is).

The hills are alive

A week of forests and hills - some excruciatingly gradual, some painfully steep, and even a col! The granny gear has had a bit of a workout and there has been a bit of shoe power as well. Flash, however, is living up to his name and is powering up the hills (his legs are steel springs you know, whereas mine are more like rusty coathangers). Wind has been boisterous of late - in fact if Dot and Aunty Pam weren't reading this, I'd say it's been a bit of a bastard.

First day (ending in Cleremont Herault for you mappers) was through beech forest, limestone crags and river gorges. It was a gloomy day, which added to the atmosphere.

Second day (ending in St Gervais sur Mare) started like a weird David Hockney landscape - lumpy red hills with green and yellow layers - and ended in the natural park region of Haut Languedoc - thick, very green forest over big hills, iviting streams and small perched stone villages. Contender for favourite town is Boussages, which is also halfway up the contender for the nastiest hill. Fortified town with rambly streets and stone archways and alleys - lots of terraced vegetable plots and friendly dogs.

The last couple of days (ending in Mazamet) have had some hideous climbs, but some fantastic dowhills. The landscape on the plateau is completely different with rolling green hills, cows and roadside verges full of wildflowers and berries - we even found some wild thyme. From the amount of firewood being collected and hay being made, I suspect it gets pretty cold up here.

So now in Mazamet, hometown of Laurent Jalabert. With all the drug scandals going on in this years Tour, the French still think Jaja is the best thing since sliced pain and have him commentating each day.

Up to speed

Obviously, I'm not talking about me here. We took the fast train to Avignon and picked up our bikes on Friday. Rew - I walked into the shop and asked to buy some bikes and the guy said 'Oh, you must be the Australians who sent the fax - I've been trying to contact you'!

So Avignon for a day with an awful lot of festival goers, then to leafy, cicada-ey Uzes for a night (after a quick trip to the Pont du Gard and one of the best peaces I've tasted). Decided one visit to Nimes in one lifetime was enough and bypassed it via a beautiful medieval town called Sommieres. Today off to St Martin de Londres. Allez allez allez!

Vive le metro!

I love walking around Paris and have many worn soles to prove it. I do however have a great fondness for the metro.

I am shamelessly lured underground by the little red and white signs, to emerge into the light on the other side of the city. Whoever designed the thing was a genius - it's simple, fast, efficient and best of all, colour-coded.

My admiration for French trains extends beyond the metro - there's a lot to appreciate about the suburban trains too. They have that rhythmic cachinga-chacinga sound and they're above ground so you can see how Parisians live and move about.

There is also some greqt plant-watching opportunities - from the little vegie patches to the brambly woods and wild lilac that grows next to the tracks.

Let us eat cake

[Sorry all - bit of Paris backlog here to catch up on. We're actually in Uzes today, down south]

Made the trek to Versailles on Thursday - along with about 10 000 others (about 3 million each year). Thanks to a very helpful train master we arrived as the golden gates opened, with ticket already in hand. By the time we left, the queue had blown out to 2 hours to get a ticket and another 2 hours to get in!

Versailles is jaw-droppingly impressive. The palace itself is over half a km long and is the epitome of luxury and self-glorification. The rooms are sumptuous beyond belief - all wood panelling and upholstery with fabulous paintings on the walls and across the ceilings.

The best thing about the palace are the views across the estate from the (probably French) windows. The grounds are a mix of symmetry and order - fountains, manicured hedges, statues and the like - and little pockets of unkemptness - meandering tracks through woods and the occasional unexpected urn or pond.

It's impossible not to be impressed by the scale and grandeur of Versailles but there's always the niggle about the cost to the country's coffers for the benefit of very few (slightly bizarre) people. If John and Janette did this, I'd be revolting too.

Stopover in The Dhab

Aloha and as-salaam alaykom from Abu Dhabi ('The Dhab').

We've just feasted on a breakfast of hommus, feta, pastrami and dates which is a brilliant start to a day. We haven't seen much else yet - arrived at midnight in 35 degrees (bit of a change from fog-soaked frosty Canberra - but it's great once you get used to it Mum..). From the window there's miles of sand, some very beautiful mosque sillhouettes across the horizon and heaps of date palms and associated birds and bugs.

We had some great people watching at the airport last night - it was still jumping well after midnight. Lots of moustaches, turbans, headscarves, flowing robes and dark-eyed babies. We'll be back on Etihad (the national airline of the United Arab Emirates apparently - and very pleasant too) this afternoon.

So it's ma'assalaama from me and ma'assalaama from him.

Hey ho let's go!

One tsoo tsoo - testing..