Goodbye France and England for the last time this year

This morning I was able to get a bit of sleep before I had an early flight to catch, and an even earlier car journey to the airport all thanks to my good friend sin Toulouse.


British Airways do not seem to fly direct from Toulouse to Barcelona, neither do anyone else for a sensible price, so I had to change at Gatwick, which sort of poked a hole in the true round the world idea, but then as I never really left the airport I can sort of overlook this minor misdemeanor and focus on the next proper location, Barcelona.


The French airport authorities are the only ones who seemed to care about checking baggage and even though my mini rucksack is tiny it still caused them pause for concern and I had to open it up for them. I am so very glad that only moments before I had rearranged the rucksack, in particular the stack of DVD's, and this appears to be what caught the security guards eye and with a cry of 'Au Voila' he proudly pulled out the suspect item, only to realise its innocence and his mistake and then much disappointed he gave it back to me and said that I could go through.


It never fails to impress me how they can be so very thorough on the going on plains, both in Toulouse and in Gatwick, but walking off with stuff they don't even batter an eye at you, and don't check that the rucksack of luggage that you take it actually yours or not.


I was both impressed and disappointed in the airport and Barcelona, for much the same item, the travellators / escalators. The moving walkways were rubber, allowed you to sort of moonwalk bounce down them without any real damage to your knees or ankles, but the pain was that I landed at one end of the airport and the baggage collection carrousel was right at the very other end, so I had to pass all the shops on the way to get my luggage { surely this is not a coincidence but a very clever marketing ploy on the Spaniards part ! }.


Once I had collected my luggage I had already decided not to take a cab, but to get a airport bus to the city centre, they run every six minutes and cost less than EU $5, so it would be just as quick and certainly a lot cheaper than picking up an airport taxi. I was not the only one to think of saving the pennies like this, but I was surprised that there must have been about 40 taxis all milling about, black with yellow doors and stripes making them look very funny indeed, sort of like a uniform group of renovated cabs as it were.


Just as I was about to get onboard the bus I happened to catch the ear of a passing lady, who was sin some distress together with her partner, their children and some friends. The Spanish airport car hire firm would apparently not let them have the two cars that they ordered on the internet a few days prior as they did not carry credit cards, despite having the money there in cash to pay for the lease. It seemed illogical to me that the authorities would not accept cash, but then perhaps it is something to do with the insurance.


Anyhow, we all got chatting and they sort of asked if I had a credit card, half as a joke and was very surprised when I said that I did and in exchange for the correct money would gladly put the two vehicles leases on my card.


I am sure that I would not have offered had they just been two lads, however nice they appeared, however with their wives and children in tow the thought of all of them having to try and struggle to get across and out of Barcelona by public transport without a map or idea of where they were heading and their first time in the country, it just cried out to my inner gentleman and sense of fair play, so my goodwill won out and I offered them a way out of their predicament.


Their appreciated was clear and I thought they were going to offer to adopt me at one point, but then I remembered that I was only meant to be here one night and so the longer I dallied here the less time that I would have in the city centre. So we thanked each other and I went on my merry way, happy that I could do a good deed and really earn the right to include the "occasional hero" blurb on the self styled business cards that I carry.


Once I found the right metro station I was at a loss as to where the hostel was, as I couldn't seem to find it despite having the map and address and knowing where it should be. The answer came when I counted down from a higher number and found that it was part of an old housing block, not very well advertised of visible form the street level and requiring you to press a buzzer to gain access. However having said that, all I said was Hola when the intercom sparked to life and they let me in, so its a bit like saying "its me" when someone asks who is it and being passed.


The hostel has some very funky ideas, like no keys to the rooms, no sheets or pillow cases but free internet, wifi and breakfast, and the fact that you can take the locker key with you is a bonus, as it meant that I could leave all my stuff behind regardless of who could get into my room and go investigating.


The city weather was hot and humid, but not actually that much sun, and so when you got to the beach the breeze coming off the sea was actually chilling rather than refreshing. Considering there is a high number of Asians and blacks I was mildly wondering why there are no massage places either here or in France, and the answer was that they go travelling along the beach offering sunbathers massages for EU $20.


As I had not really had any form of massage in ages, and I had been carrying my rucksack a lot in the last few days, I felt I could do with a little treat so accepted the offer when one approached me, but was a bit shocked when halfway through she disappeared from view as a cruising police car crawled along the beach edge looking for evil doers to arrest. Had I realised that the massage women were illegal I would have thought twice before accepting one in broad daylight on my first few hours in the city.


After the minor hiccup she completed her work on my legs and arms and then I paid up and walked back to my hostel.
Thankfully the attitude of restaurants is not as strict as in France, many close at 4pm to then open up again at 7 or 8pm but the main ones on the central strips stay open all day long. I could not seem to find a cinema on my wanderings so I settled on taking in nice seafood noodle and coke on the main strip before going back to the hostel and bashing out a few blog entries. The main strip, being Las Ramblas, also has many street acts going on, like the frozen statues that only move when you pay them, but these no longer amuse me as much as they seem the same in almost every city I see them.


As I was up early this morning and I will be out of here tomorrow I will probably get an early night and make the most of tomorrow, hoping for sun shine and clear skies again, before my train for Valencia leaves in the mid afternoon.

Albi and goodbye Toulouse

Albi is the original hometown of my France friend in Toulouse, and it is also a place that has a great Cathedral higher than most and also fortified as it has a violent and bloody history attached to it.

As my friend had to work on Monday she suggested that I take a half day trip to this city, that is only an hour away by train and also take in some of the other sights in the region. Good advice, but what would have been a tiny bit better is if she had told me that the city, despite its tiny size, has at least 2 train stations and one is too far to walk in just a few minutes. However it could be argued just as easily that I did not ask at the time and she assumed that I would get off at the first one, which is what I did and so no harm done as the saying goes.

My friend and her partner had also very kindly said that they would let me stay at their place for the one night and take me to the airport early tomorrow morning instead of me spending the night at the airport to catch a 6:45am flight tomorrow morning, which I very gratefully accepted. As they were at work I had to risk leaving my bag in the main reception of the hotel that I stayed the previous two nights, but they all assured me that it was perfectly safe and I did notice a few others were doing the same, nevertheless I had butterflies the whole time and I took my mini backpack filled with all the technical stuff and just left the clothes { and laptop as it was too big to fit in the smaller bag! }.

It was a shame that I went at 11.24am and thus arrived just after the tourist information centre closed, as it would have been great to get a few free brochures and pointers on where else to go, so as it was I went inside, took a few photos that sadly didn't come out due to the poor lighting and my digital cameras inability to focus in the dark, and so I have only a few outside shots to post. But I think you will agree that its height is quite impressive and I can tell you that the workmanship that went into its construction both inner and outer is some of the most intricate and detailed that I have seen in any masonry anywhere in the world.

Coming back I couldn't help notice that the heat was getting very strong outside, so much so that I had to take off my jacket and wear sunshades ever in the train, so I am guessing that it must have topped 20 degrees, which coming from the UK I am not used to at the end of September { back in the UK the weather has been grim and rainy for most of the last fortnight }. On the train they also asked me to complete a customer satisfaction survey, not pausing to ask if I could speak or read any French, and so I just took it and surprised myself by being able to complete all of it and only puzzling over one or two answers { though some were guesses and the rest were just marked out of 20 so easy to put a number in that I thought fitted }.

After collecting my suitcase from the hotel I was still had a few hours to kill before I was meeting up with my friends after they finished work, so I walked around the block till something caught my eye, and it was a John Bull pub called Old London Town, where the barman had a hint of a true English accent, and was able to serve me a nice refreshing pint of chilled cider and a packet of my favourite crisps. True it was a bit overpriced, even compared to London prices, but then this was Toulouse, about as far away form England as you can get in France and so I am not complaining.

The insides of the pub seemed authentic, in fact more oldie worldie than a lot of the pubs that are in London, and I personally loved the fact that they had a chessboard, albeit one of the pawns looked out of place as it was a replacement from a larger scale set. It was a pity that I was the only customer at the time, so I just sat back with my drink and watched a game of football { Italian not English, but close enough } till it was time to leave. Anther nice touch was that the landlady was a slim brunette with tattoos and she went about marking up all the blackboards with all the events in October that they were hosting, complete with a bilingual pub quiz, and it reminded me that I might want to do find another English style pub on the 31st October to celebrate Halloween, which I always love to do.

Once I met up with my friends we had a nice meal and watched a bit of French soap opera, I showed them a few simple card tricks and then we chatted before all heading off to bed at a sensible time as we had to be up extra early the next morning.

Carcassonne

Everyone who likes old architecture, history, castle or pretending that they are back in the days of yore should visit Carcassonne, it really is that good and might explain why Michael Jackson at his height went on to book the entire area for a few days while he was staying in the hotel at the centre, which he also booked out completely.

Unfortunately I have come down with a little bit of a cold and also stayed out in the sun a little too much and got a mild case of sunstroke, but then that it me all over, but I refuse to let it get me down.

I met my friends here this morning and made a trip down to the local market for a spot of bargain hunting and to pick up a few last minute bits for the picnic we were about to enjoy down by the lake reservoir. I had not seen so much fresh meat in one place, and to see Duck heads still with feathers and entire Pig legs still with their trotters on was a bit of a novelty for me, but not so much as the fact that many of the meat sellers even let you cut your own slices. Maybe I don't go to enough fresh food markets but that was new to me at least.

For the picnic we drove out to a nice quiet spot in the country and they had a nice time eating and skimming stones while I just enjoyed the sunshine, catching a bit too much sun on my face in the process but I wasn't complaining as I thought it might help chase away the cold that is also looming over me at the moment.

One the way from there to Carcassonne we went past their mini space centre, but sadly it will be closed tomorrow and as we had a long way to go today we couldn't really stop off to go inside, but when we reached our final destination I would not have traded it for a daytrip to NASA.

I doubt that I can do justice the castle, the town that is Carcassonne, but if I start by saying that it the biggest complete and intact medieval castle complex that I have ever seen or heard about, that might be a start. The fact that entire outer wall is still there and the interior courtyard and keep are full of semi modern buildings all dedicated to the tourists that come to visit might give you an idea of the scale, or perhaps I should say that inside is at least two hotels!

Walking around the city I must have taken over one hundred photos of the place alone, and I could have just kept snapping and snapping all day long with a silly grin on my face the whole time, but in an effort to entertain rather than bore you, I will only include on my blog about ten.

After a couple of hours we had to leave, as my friends child has school in the morning and the drive back was a long way, but it was very worth it and I could not thank them enough for taking the time and effort to take me there and back, although of course it was probably as much fun for them as it was for me.

Apparently the new city just outside the medieval one has an airport that Ryanair flies between here and Stanstead in the UK, which was very handy to know as I am keen to show the place off to other people and the fact that we can come directly here and even book a hotel inside the place to return the following morning makes it potentially a wonderful weekend gift to present to someone.

Saying Goodbye Lyon, Hello Toulouse

When I planned to travel around the world, I had a few must have cities, a few maybe cities and then added a few more to link the ones I had already chosen and also to add a bit of slack into the trip, and Lyon was one of these additional stop over locations and so in order for me to get the most out of the city I really should have done a bit more homework.

However, having said this, I was a bit surprised that the hostel did not have more fliers about things that I would be interested in, like for instance no matter how hard I looked there was no fliers or leaflets about the Roman museum and amphitheatre which was not ten minutes up the road, and for me this was the high point of the entire city tour.

One of the factors that I was relying upon when booking up the extra cities, was that I would be able to find a certain amount of information on the local area once I had arrived, but it would appear that this perhaps was not as wise as it seemed at the time.

Also, before I go any further, I feel that I should offer up some form of apology to the city of Lyon when I earlier commented that it was not a great city, is probably is, it just takes more than a few days and no previous knowledge or background research to get the best of a place. It is for this reason that I was happy to have friends in many of the cities that I plan to visit, and why I value their guidance and suggestions so much.

Another idea that seemed good at the time was to book a train at 7:10am in the morning to get from Lyon to Toulouse but when it came to it this wasn't such a hot idea, however as luck would have it I was struck with a case of insomnia { possibly due to the ticking of my alarm clock right next to my head so as not to wake the other dorm sleepers when it went off } and so I was up and about at 5am and almost on automatic I packed up all my belongings and checked out.

The train route from Lyon to Toulouse was not a direct one and it required a change at a city called Narbonne, and as the train out was over two hours later I decided, backpack and all, to go for a tiny wander and see what the city had to offer. Taking a half hour stroll around the train station I didn't spot anything that caught my eye enough for me to investigate further but I was a little put off when the restaurant I popped in said that the only thing they could offer was a sandwich.

It would appear that it is fairly frequent in France for restaurants to have bizarre opening times and only serve food at select times of the day, but on the upside at least you know when you do get served it will have been freshly prepared and not have been sitting around the kitchen or front counter all day long.

It was a great surprise for me to have my friend in Toulouse meet me at the train station and as luck would have it I had chosen a hotel very close to the train station, and so a five minute walk was all it took. After a quick freshener we left and took a casual walk down by the river to grab an ice-cream before travelling back to meet up with her partner in their apartment. Fortunately her partner also speaks good English, and so although throughout the weekend I will attempt to speak some French, the main language we will be using will be English.

My friend is an excellent host and guide and was keen to show me many of the local sights and explain as much as she could, like that Toulouse was famous for its style of bricks and brickwork which I would not have easily spotted otherwise.

At around 8pm we all went to a restaurant which they had booked in advance, and although the food was well presented and tasted fine the service was very sluggish and it turned out after that they had a huge group booking downstairs but still felt confident that one junior chef would be able to cope, which is to their detriment. The evening drew into nighttime and as it had also turned a little chilly I just jumped on the metro and then walked back from the nearest stop.

Tomorrow we have planned to go for a picnic and then visit a medieval castle called Carcassonne, which promises to be a great day out.

O Est la Belles Femmes

A good friend from back home asked me what I thought of the sexy women here, and truth be told so far I haven't seen enough to comment either way.

Today was linen day, as it was the last day I have on my own before I meet up with some friends in Toulouse and so I wanted to be fresh and with the greatest choice of clothes, as I would hate to be falling asleep and missing anything exciting after coming all this way to meet them.

I can't say that I did much today, except learn that in a Lyonnais launderette a Hors Service is not what it sounds like, but it is actually a sign telling you that the machine is out of order, and also that when drying your clothes you can either burn them on high heat or pay for three repeat cycles on warm heat, or leave with still slightly damp clothes of course.

In the launderette I met up with a couple of Aussie students who were living here in Lyon for a year as part of a exchange program. They also confirmed that travelling is in the culture and the mindset of almost every young Aussie, but didn't necessarily say that there was any pressure to do it, just something that they all seemed to want to do. I suspect that there has a little bit of subliminal mental programming there, as in on the a subconscious level, for an entire nation of young adults to want to leave a warm, sunny and peaceful country to come to travel around Europe of all places.

I also have decided that my choice of clothes was a mistake, as I have got a full load split into whites and non-whites. As I am trying to save money and time, it would have made more sense to bring just coloured clothes and leave my whites behind as now I have to do two loads and one is mainly for white socks, which is a waste.

Back in the hostel after I decided to doze for a bit and then go out to see what mischief I could get up to after dark, seeing as I haven't been out late in almost a week and its my last night in Lyon.

As I only had a few transport tickets left I chose to walk down the hill and into town, as then I always have the problem of using them to go to other places for just bring me back, whatever proves most enticing. I had heard that the most happening parts of the city were near Ville de Hotel, so I took a casual stroll along there and found it to be exactly as I though, full of restaurants but not a lot else.

In most cities around the world, pink, blue and red neon lights after 10pm normally mean one thing, a club of some description and more often than not one that is either exotic, erotic or both. Here in Lyon it also means one one thing, but the thing is the choice of restaurant that it is, with blue being mostly kebabs / halal meats and red being an Indian or curry houses.

At one stage I found a group of drunken revelers wandering in some vague direction, with one of them blindfolded and made to look a complete fool, and from the sign around his neck I gather that he had just completed his finals or qualified as something. I had a notion that they might take him to a strip club or something to celebrate, as I thought that he must be blindfolded for a reason, but after trailing them for about ten minutes it was clear that they were all too drunk to find anywhere even if they knew where it was and had a route master to guide them home!

I must have been wandering for about an hour and I was all about to give up and say that Lyon is almost sterile on the nightclub front, when I spotted two little red lanterns hanging either side of a doorway near the riverfront. Filled with what exciting possibilities it might be I crept up and was a little disappointed with the fact that it was only a swingers club, which meant really just a place where exhibitionists took their willing partners to have sex in semi public. Not really the kind of place a single foreigner who speaks none of the local language should go, and certainly not for an entrance fee of EU $50 when the traveler is on a tight budget.

So instead I took myself home again, sad to report that the nightlife of Lyon was even less than I expected and as I had already been through the rest of Europe to get here, for me the myths about French and sex is totally busted!

Tomorrow I am on a very early train out of town, so I must be up at 6am so although its a short blog entry, its the best I can do with the time and the city I am in.

A second day in Lyon

Well I wasn't sure If I was going to stay in the hostel for the full three days, as it is really not turning out to be the best Hostel I have ever been to, for all the reasons I've already mentioned, but then that was before I tried to find a cheap alternative to staying in the hostel.

This morning I got up early and came down to catch a breakfast, which consisted of a drink of orange juice and a bowl of what can only be described as "assorted serial", but please don't expect any further clarification as I really wont be able to help you, and that is after eating it. I shared it with an early twenties Canadian girl who, yet again, was traveling alone and was travelling and working with WWOOF - which is something like the World Wide Organisation of Organic Farming. It intrigued me as when I was first planning my trip I tried to find places that would let you work as labour to pay your way, but most of the organisations that I tried wanted both your labour AND your money, which was definetly not what I had in mind.

After being unable to use the wifi again this morning, I got so bored that I just picked up the laptop and went for a walk with it down the hill and ended up in a McDonalds { bless em, ay } where they have free wifi access to all customers.

By doing so I was able to post last nights long entry and also read a few of the emails that finally managed to make their way to me. And once I had pretty used up all the battery charge I decided to walk back up the hill, but going a different way, full circle so to speak.

Boy, am I glad that I did, as I found that via the other way you go right past a Gaelic Amphitheatre and a Roman museum, which for any of you who might want to visit is well worth it and also free entry to the public on Thursdays :o)

The OTHER thing that I noticed was that there was not only a bus route that went near the hostel but even better a Funicular that would take you almost right to the door and the walk from the station was downhill not up. That means that you can walk down the hill to the metro station to go into town and then walk down from the Funicular station on the way back, never getting a hernia or having to pretend your in training to join the army. Why they never said that on their website or their confirmation email I have no idea.

I have also no idea why then have got no leaflets of brochures about the Roman museum or Amphitheatre just up the hill, as having been around Lyon quite a bit it seems the only reason why anyone would ever need to go near that hill, unless they were visiting their dearly departed in the crematorium.

Thus it was that I spent this morning in the museum and playing about on the stage and then in the early afternoon I decided to go and visit the park, which also housed a miniature zoo, which killed two birds with one stone and means that I can have a rest up tomorrow having successfully crossed off just about everything on the list to do in Lyon. The botanical gardens and zoo are also free to the public and so I was doing a great job of not spending any money and getting a bit back on track.

It is a shame that the whole place seems to close early every day, as I would have murdered a pizza and chips, but after 3pm the only thing that you could get before things started to reopen at 7pm was a baguette and a soft drink. EU $3 for a small baguette is not that bad value, but I was getting very bored of living off sandwiches and I am told that bread is actually bad for you if you eat too much of it!

To kill off the rest of the day, I watched another movie { no sweeties this time, pity the film was dubbed into French though ... only country that seems to do this for every film release ! } and then went for a few games of bowling. As per usual it was cheaper during the day, but still EU $17 for 3 games and a soft drink, including shoe hire, isn't that bad either, just be careful not to try and take the piss as just cos the lights are on the meter is still running so if you play a forth game they will still expect you to pay for it afterwards.

The film was the new Jacky Chan and Jet Li film but being in French totally ruined it, as although the story itself was pretty straight forward, there is always plenty of jokes that just never come across well in translated versions. The film was fun, but too much Hollywood input stopped it being great, as you could tell the ending before almost the opening credits has finished rolling up.

I found out that I really am that bad at Bowling, as I barely made 100 and I got more complete misses than I did strikes and spares put together. The thing that really messed it up for me, was that even here they food stopped being prepared at 3pm onward and also the score TV screens don't have funny little cartoon animations to tell you what you need to get with your second ball or help celebrate you getting a spare or strike. Like everything else, it is better in a group and my thumbs and arm was sore by the end of the third game, so why I bothered to play a forth I'm not quite sure.

I am not sure what time the Funicular stops running, but thankfully it was still running at 9pm and so it was a doddle to get back to the hostel, pity the wifi still isn't working so this wont get sent out till tomorrow now. I am not sure what else I can do tomorrow, as I have run out of money, inspiration and listening to people speaking in French, but I have only one more day in this hostel and in Lyon and then I am in Toulouse and in a hotel for a change, so its privacy, working wifi and the chance to leave my stuff out, plus do another load of linen.

I don't know why, but its for some reason hostels seem to think that what guests want is rock and alternative music blaring out at full volume during the night in the common rooms, though why I have no idea as personally I came here to socialise and relax and not try to practice head banging. I really feel as though hostel workers are like DJ's ... with a few too many screws loose up there somewhere.