The Groves

26/12/2008

Every summer many Australians take to the beach and bustle themselves into busy caravan parks to get away from the city and enjoy the sun and surf. South west of Melbourne there is a particularly popular little beach side town called Ocean Grove, which is also well known as the Grove. I have been to the Grove a few times to visit friends, enjoy a bbq and listen to the cricket, as flies and mosquitoes swarmed. This time around though, my summer season has begun with a visit to a place a little less populated, a touch cooler and a place not supportive of insect or any life whatsoever. My summer has begun with a visit to the Grove Mountains, which is more affectionately referred to as the Groves.

Our Antarctic field training finished with a slogged out 14km walk back to Davis station, along a frozen fjord and over the lunar rock strewn landscape of the Vestfold Hills. We set out early as we had heard a whisper on the VHF that it was possible that we could be going into the field that day, and that if we missed this opportunity we wouldn’t get another chance until after Christmas. This turned out to be true and on arrival at station we were told to get our stuff together and be at the helipad ASAP. In the space of two hours we were flying back across the Vestfold Hills and up over the plateau in a helicopter. We arrived at the skiway and loaded most of our cargo into a C212 fixed-wing aircraft and took our seats for the two hour flight to the Groves. I say most of our cargo was packed, because several survey items were destroyed in a tragic helicopter sling load accident (they dropped our boxes from a great height and they died on impact). The incident is still under investigation.

The Groves would have to be one of my favourite places in the world. The sheer sense of isolation does it for me. The mountains are a scattered group of very striking mountain tops and nunataks, jutting out like icebergs in an ocean of ice, about 500km South of Davis station and the closest other life forms. I visited the Groves two years ago and returned this time to upgrade a remote GPS station we have operating in the area. The work is relatively simple techo stuff and simply involved lugging a lot of equipment up a mountain and plugging it all in. All the brain work was done in Canberra earlier in the year.

Three of us camped out in a thin valley of snow resting on the ice sheet at the base of one of the nunataks. There was a persistent wind which kept the polar pyramid tent flapping through the evening while we tried to shade our eyes from the 24 hour sunlight and sleep. We were fortunate to spend the summer solstice out in the field, although everyday is a long day down here when the sun does not set.

We completed the work with a day to spare and took the opportunity to have an explore. With boot chains on and ice axe in hand we soldiered off on the ice and skirted around the moraine field to get a closer look at the nearby mountain formations. The wind howled in our faces, at least the sliver of skin we had exposed, as we were kitted out in full windproof clothing with beanies and balaclavas a must. The wind blew snowdrift at us as we pushed on over rolling waves of ice and crept over small crevasse fields which had fractured around the exposed rock features. The walk was what I would call a real Antarctic experience and brought the efforts of early explorers to light. I am extremely fond of the Groves and fully appreciate the opportunity I have been given to visit this incredible place.

We were fortunate with the weather on site, with relatively warm weather of no cooler than negative ten and the wind although sometimes gusty never got too violent. We were collected after four nights by the C212 boys and flown back to station for Christmas. The "helicopter dropping our important survey equipment" incident continued to cause me headaches, and my patience has been pushed to the limits. The disruption to our work program I can handle as it is unavoidable now and we simply have to minimise the impact on our work. I have found myself more annoyed at the response of several key personnel and have had to look beyond my disappointment as a negative attitude is not healthy in a place like this. Nonetheless, I survived another Antarctic Christmas and couldn’t resist over indulging in the food. We continued working over the holiday in preparation for our next field trip, away from the masses and back into the deep field.

Field training

19/12/08

Three days of field training to satisfy a paper work issue so I could go and do my work. I didn’t make a fuss as it sounded fun and gave me an opportunity for a pleasant walk in the hills, to wet my appetite for the more satisfying field trips yet to come.

Helicopter dropped a party of eight of us at Trajer Ridge hut not far from the rise of ice to the plateau. We started off with a cuppa tea and then went for a circuit walk up and down some hills, practising walking on ice and snow and cutting steps. We then began the walk west to Davis. Different party members each had a go at navigating as people brushed up on reading maps, using a compass and GPS and leading the group. We passed by the occasional penguin as the walk took us around hills, over lakes of ice, and across plenty of snow and rock. We slept out one night in the bivvy and spent the other night at Watts hut. Overall it was just a nice walk in the hills and a good way to get to know a few more expeditioners. All the oddities of being out in the field returned quite quickly. The Vestfolds are a nice place, and we will return to them for some work later in the season. For the time being we have higher priority places to visit.

On station

15/12/08

Davis station. Located on the coast of the Vestfold Hills in Princess Elizabeth Land of East Antarctica. Davis is the largest of Australia’s Antarctic stations and will serve as my base for the next three months.

An extremely short helicopter ride (up and down) got me off the ship and back on station. Not a lot has changed in the two years since I was last here. Although I do have my own private cell this time and, of course, there are a whole heap of new people. Out of the 90 people on station, only five are repeat offenders from when I was here in 2007. New people means new rules (or interpretations of rules) and new social challenges.

This time around there seem to be a few too many people working out how things operate as they go. The current atmosphere appears to be one of strictly policing minor rules and misdemeanours while large scale offences and corruption go unpunished. A bit like the way Australian police officers revenue raise with minor traffic violations, inductions and forms are collected like signs of activity. An induction and signing of a form is required for just about every conceivable activity, including driving a car or using the gym. Of course, once the form is signed and the necessary box is ticked you can do just about what you like.

Despite the ship visiting station twice in a month, rationing is already underway for meat, chocolate, muesli and various other standard items. For people working away from home in a remote environment, food is a vital element in maintaining a positive mindset. The poor resupply is a terrible oversight. Despite being on a continent of ice, there is also rationing of water, until the reverse-osmosis machine is fixed. Three minute showers, twice a week is the quota. There seems to have been a much greater emphasis on the bar this season. That was until they drank the home brew dry. Now they stand around in the bar with confused looks on their faces wondering why the taps are dry.

There are an abundance of tradesman this summer season. They seem to have become the dominant species on what is probably promoted as a scientific research station. Their numbers are swelling as they work away on projects which appear a little unnecessary, such as buildings to support more tradesmen. The way it looks, they just keep on building buildings to replace buildings they will later knock down to put up more buildings? Jollying also seems to be a priority this season. Getting the tradesman out and about is the main focus. I guess if they don’t finish building their buildings that will give them more reason to come back again next season.

Due to the absence of a tick in a box, I am required to undergo three days field training, despite having spent more time in the field than a penguin two years ago. No field training has restricted expeditioners to station limits, preventing people from enjoying a run or walk until that box is ticked. The hampering of exercise is another big no no, in my book, as I see exercise as another critical element to mood. So I am off on field training for a few days. It’ll be good to get out for a walk and I'm already looking forward to getting off station.

Voyage 2

12/12/2008

For the last three weeks your humble narrator has been travelling as a passenger on the Australian Antarctic Division (AAD) primary ocean transport vessel, the Aurora Australis. Voyage two for the summer Antarctic season.

Life aboard the ship quickly developed into a routine built around the three meals of the day. Food was abundant and it was as if they were trying to fatten us all up, either to later cook, or to assist in developing an extra layer of insulation from the cold. The gym was a popular spot for regular training sessions to combat the best efforts of the chef and the sauna was a new luxury which brought back reminisces of time spent in the top end. The pages of books turned and turned and the keypad got a working over with emails home and in completing long put off work tasks. Participation was also shown in random silly games, work presentations, movie nights, field training, table tennis, bbq and beers on the trawl deck, trivia night, ice berg surveys and the induction of newcomers to King Neptune’s domain as we crossed the 60 degree line of latitude. I also got some time to catch up with some old friends.

In the first week we travelled across the Southern Ocean from Hobart to Casey station in Wilkes Land region of Antarctica. The ocean was remarkably calm and hospitable. To be heading south on an ocean which resembled glass was unbelievable.

This made the voyage particularly comfortable, but also meant that all the passengers were out of bed and active. I secretly hoped for an increase in the swell to turn the more delicate passengers green and get them out of the dinner que. The first ice berg was spotted two days out of Casey and then it was on as the ship travelled through ice berg alley to drop off 60 expeditioners and 30 tonne of cargo at Australia’s Eastern most Antarctic base.

The best part of a week was spent unloading cargo and performing helicopter operations around station. I was permitted off the ship for one day to complete some simple work tasks on station and have a brief look around. I nutted out my way around station and the nuances of station life quickly returned. It was good to set foot on the Antarctic continent once again and pleasing to have now visited all three Australian Antarctic stations.

Poor weather towards the end of the Casey re-supply saw the ship out of the bay and into the open ocean to avoid getting into trouble. Time was spent on the bridge assisting in the whale survey program, spotting plumes from killer whales as pods passed around the ship and sometimes breached above the water surface to show off. All sorts of Antarctic wildlife were spotted throughout the voyage. The wandering albatross and smaller shearwaters followed the ship across the open ocean, then the ship was guided along by Antarctic and snow petrels who seemed curious of the ship or were trying to figure out the best way they could eat it. When travelling through the ice, crab-eater seals often waved us on and penguins generally waited until the last moment to flee from ice flows in the ships path.

Another week was then spent travelling west around the coast of Antarctica, after collecting 20 of the last years Casey wintering party. The voyage west towards Davis was more of a slog as the ship pushed through moderate pack ice and the weather was a bit grey and dreary. The excitement of the adventure waned in the last week of the voyage. Everyone just wanted to get there and get stuck into the season. Enough thinking and talking about it, let’s get busy. One day out from Davis I put my hand up, along with four others, to shave my head to raise money for camp quality (kids with cancer). We raised just over $3500. So I have lost my locks, but it doesn’t seem to have impacted my strength. I am clean shaven and I feel (and look) reborn. Full of energy and raring to get off this piece of junk, orange ship and back on Antarctica.

Introduction II

Antarctica is the southernmost, coldest, driest, windiest and most inhospitable continent on the planet. And your humble narrator is going there for the second time.

Upon my return from the south last time, plenty of stories were told and pictures shown. I recall a common query from those enduring my tales of whether I would go back? My response was always "in a heart beat!" Well, I'm going back, but let me tell you it takes a lot longer to organise than a heart beat. Lots of time has been spent planning work and logistics, researching, testing, hoping, budgeting, purchasing, fighting, packing, emailing, laughing and smiling in preparation for this summer. The season is intended to follow a similar script to my last Antarctic trip, although, this time around we actually have less to do, with more time to do it, but with less support. It still promises to be an interesting summer. Whatever that means?

Sunlight absorption

03/10/2008

Queensland. The sunshine state? The smart state?? I was sent up north to the QLD coast to get some sun and absorb the warmth before the upcoming Antarctic season. No, not really. Rather, three GPS surveys were conducted at the Australian Maritime Safety Authority (AMSA) differential GPS sites in Gladstone, Mackay and Ingham. The work was really cruisy and simply involved connecting some of my fancy gizmos to the existing AMSA equipment and collecting data for two days at each site. After setting up the equipment, which took a grand total of about two hours, I then had to keep myself occupied for 48 hours before packing up the gear and driving on to the next site.

First up was Gladstone. An industrial town set around the deep water harbour of Port Curtis. Boating is the main pass time of locals and seafood is on the menu. Fish was eaten at the yacht club and two local restaurants. The yacht club pulled out the classic pub style fish and chips, whereas the other two served up over priced ocean trout, which wasn’t cooked well enough to justify the price.

Aside from food, which always seems to be a priority on my adventures, there are some nice spots tucked away from the refineries and other industrial sectors. The Tondoon botanic gardens are impressive and chock full of natives, although the mozzies and other biters prevail. Tannum Sands has a great coastal walking track which was perfect for a sunset jog. Spinnaker park, built in the harbour by the port authority, is another nice place for a walk with plenty of sea air and a view of the ships loading up with natural resources.

After packing up the GPS gear it was time to hit the Bruce highway and drive north to Mackay. The last hour of the drive was through the pleasant smell of golden syrup as I entered sugar cane country. Mackay is a regional city, which is surrounded by mangroves and sugar cane fields and sits halfway between Bris-Vegas and Cairns. The town is a grid of wide streets and seems to have outgrown itself, waiting in traffic is common and annoying. With school holidays on, the miners on break and after the floods earlier in the year, which put quite a few locals out of their homes, accommodation was difficult to find. The backpackers were booked solid. I’ve said it before but pre-booking backpackers completely goes against the idea of backpacker accommodation. It pisses me off! Anyway, I managed to check into a relatively expensive motel and spent the next few days scratching mozzie and sand fly bites. The town caters to the miners at night with a pub on every corner, strip bars, tattoo parlors and beauty salons.

Surprisingly, the food in Mackay was really good. A steak at the Austral hotel was one of the best I’ve had since the “Ball and chain” in Salamanca, Hobart. The steak was so good I actually ate dinner there twice. I also sat down to a delicious dinner of borsch soup and goulash at the local Russian restaurant. I simply had to try it for the novelty of Russian food in Mackay. There are a few cafes about, making some nice stuff as well. There are a couple of pleasant spots for a run or walk, the long strip of botanic gardens alongside the lagoons and looking out on the sugar cane being the stand out. The work all went well and it was time to continue the road trip north to Ingham.

Unfortunately, the northward drive fell on the last Saturday in September, Grand final day. Excited about there finally being two Victorian teams in the granny, I simply had to stop and watch the game through the arvo. I pulled into Ayr, 90km south of Townsville, and watched the game in a local pub with a few toothless locals sitting around, muttering into their XXXX Gold. It was weird to see the lack of interest from the Queenslanders. Different country up north I guess. After the disappointing game, I continued on for another 200km with the setting sun until I reached Ingham and then a little further NE to Lucinda. I woke to the dramatic view of Hinchinbrook Island, through the tropical palms and across the water. The island looks like a fun place to explore maybe some time in the future.

The survey equipment was setup quickly (I was getting good at it now) and I had the rest of the day off. The sun was finally shining and it seemed I had driven free of the clouds of the last week. I spent midday at Forrest beach and enjoyed a bake in the sun and a swim in the lovely, warm water. I then drove down to Townsville where I would meet up with a co-worker the following day. On that lovely and warm evening I joined the locals and had a casual walk along the Strand, enjoyed fish and chips on the grass looking out to Magnetic Island, as the sun set over Castle Hill, and then walked back up the Strand with an ice cream. Bliss.

The next few days were spent working at another continuous GPS station located at the Australian Institute of Marine Science (AIMS) about 50km south of Townsville. The AIMS site is impressive and we saw plenty of sleek kangaroos and birds on site, as well as dolphins, turtles, crabs and fish down by the tide gauge. The institute is quite isolated and with its electronically operated front gate, picturesque location by the water, well manicured tropical bush grounds, laboratories and hard working, tidy employees, gives the impression of a futuristic community living in a protected natural utopia. Every time that front gate swung open on its own I was reminded of Jurassic park or the Island of Dr Moreau and imagined the forbidden laboratories contained long lost sea monsters or deranged amphibious mutants. It was curious that in almost every conversation with different staff, they made mention of the space on grounds and how there was plenty of room for more people, if we wanted to stay? Oooooo creepy. Anyway, we got through our work unscathed and I am sure my webbed feet will return to normal in time for my Antarctic medical tests.

During this working week we tried a few more places to eat and drink around Townsville, I snuck a run in along the Strand one morning and up Castle Hill on another early morning, both popular exercise spots around town. It is great to see so many people out and about exercising in Townsville, with a steady stream of people (all shapes and sizes) climbing up the big rock and walking by the beach. We dashed back up to Ingham one evening to pack up the other survey equipment and dropped by a local hotel for a few beers and a counter meal, chatting away to the young bar girl who answered most of our questions of some of the oddities of the area. By the way, Ingham is not the place with the chickens. Rather, sugar cane is the business. The locals get a little pissy when you mention chickens. I ate the chicken at the Ingham hotel and it was really good. On reviewing this blog entry, I noticed that food is the standout topic. I apologise for this, but I think about food a lot. Obviously, I will need to find a lovely young woman who enjoys cooking.

With the work all done and plenty of sun and warmth absorbed it was time to head back to Canberra, where I spent about four hours before driving back to Melbourne for the long weekend. Stay tuned for the next blog series, On Antarctica II.

Keeping touch

21/09/2008


Since returning from Spain there have been several travel stories not documented. One trip took me to the cold of Burnie, Tasmania in July. Working at the tide gauge within Burnie wharf with a senior field surveyor. Like they say in Tassie, two heads are better than one. Then, it was up to Darwin and Jabiru, NT in August for the end of the dry season and the start of the “build up”. Hot work alongside Jabiru airport was managed to permit a few sightseeing ventures within Kakadu and some time on the end to enjoy a tropical fruit juice at Parap market in Darwin and re-hash memories of my year in the territory.

Of course, there have been several weekend visits made to Melbourne to spend time with family and keep touch with friends. In two consecutive weekends, beautiful food was cooked and eaten in Melbourne with exercise and laughter included in the mix. The last journey back to Melbourne was by road and as always included a respite in Holbrook to enjoy a pie and sweet from the bakery and ponder at the endeavors of man.

On returning to Canberra from Melbourne, I was immediately off to Mallacoota in Eastern Victoria to investigate a potential new GPS site and test some equipment at the Australian Maritime Safety Authority (AMSA) Differential GPS site, important for improving the navigational accuracy of GPS, on ships, around selected areas of the Australian coast. The work was easy and provided plenty of time to take in the sleepy sea-side town of Mallacoota, which undoubtedly gets lots of visitors to the shore-side caravan park in summer. The Mallacoota walking trail is worth a look and the beaches are beautiful in the morning when no else is around and the sun is rising over the waves.
Shot back to Canberra in time for my second 50’s style garden party with lots of attractive girls in pretty dresses. A fun night was had with plenty of sweets, Pimms and dancing (perhaps spinning is a better descriptor). After a half-drunken, late night, bicycle ride across our nation’s capital to my unit, I was up and off to the airport for a plane to Brisbane and then Gladstone on the Queensland coast.

Shared Experiences

14/06/08

Jaca is situated not far from the French border, in the midst of the Pyreness in the province of Huesca and was once the capital of Aragon. The town is now popular as an entry point to the mountains for winter sport and hiking. In Jaca, we located cheap accommodation in the local high school dorm rooms. "The book" made no mention of this option and we were well pleased to get a good one over "the book". We got an early night and filled our bags with supplies before catching a local bus to Sabinanigo and a minibus to Torla. From there we were on foot. We picked up a map (which we did use) and set off into the Ordesa y Monte Perdido National Park, hiking into the Ordesa valley alongisde a fast flowing river of runoff. We had entered our playground for the next three days and both felt great to be out in the wilderness, breathing the crisp, fresh air and moving those legs. While trekking, apart from having a brief conversation with an older English couple as we left Torla, we didn't speak to anyone for over two days. The trekking season hadn't started yet as we soon discovered, with large volumes of snow still covering mountains and passes, making it particularly difficult to follow trail paths buried beneath. As was our way throughout the entire trip, we had no set plan as to where we wanted to walk. Rather, we made decisions as the forks in the track presented themselves, looked at the map and got a feel for the topography, gazed ahead and considered our chances. Funtastic. No right or wrong decisions. Only new experiences, shared experiences. A few times we turned up a track and hiked a long way up steep climbs, only to find the way unpassable either due to there being a vertical rock climb or a near vertical drop down a snow face, and decided the better option would be a different way. On our first evening (the sun set at about 10pm) we stumbled into the Circo de Sound at the end of the Ordesa valley, and fell in love with the specatacular sight of the valley as the sun dimmed. After trekking for about ten hours we made our way up towards the refugio de Goriz (base for climbing Monte Perdido) and setup camp in a clearing, surrounded by waterfalls, and overlooking the stunning valley as the cloud rolled in on the moutains above. Best camp site thus far.

After a big day we took our time in the morning and had a hot breakfast, read and enjoyed being where we were.

We made our way up to the refugio and decided against attempting Monte Perdido, due to the excessive snow cover and our lack of appropriate equipment for such a climb. Rather, we skirted around the edge of the valley and over a well snowed in pass towards the Anisclo valley.

Although each trudging step brought us to our knees in the snow we never questioned each other or our decision to take this path. We were both keen to see what it was like when we got over the pass and when we saw that the snow trailed off as we descended into the valley we continued on. We edged down into the valley, listening to the waterfalls and admiring the snow capped moutains, and reached a small shelter at the Mallo Oscuro waterfalls for lunch and a breather.

With the option to go up or down the valley we decided to have a crack at going up, despite the visible mass of snow and an awareness that it would be steep and hard at the top. The climb up the valley river was tough but we both were more concerned about what awaited us at the snow line. Reaching the snow we had to make our own way and tried to keep to the rocky outcrops as the stability of the snow was uncertain with the sound of running water suggesting cavities and the sight of small avalanches stopping us in our tracks. The snow took over and I raised the possibility of turning back. My brother's determination and committment to the idea of making that pass, pushed him to venture out into the snow and see if we could get closer. Each step was a bit of a gamble, and we were both sinking into our knees and feeling the cold on our toes. I followed in Ben's footsteps as he battled up and along the ridge, encouraging each step as he led the way to the top. We scrambled to the top and balanced on the knifes edge as the snow dropped away on the otherside of the rim and led into a vast valley below with spectacular peaks on the opposite side. And we gasped. Ben let out a triumphanty yell and I just smiled at him. That was the moment for the trip. In Australia it had just ticked over to our father's birthday. Peaking over the edge and sizing up the extremely steep drop and potentially hidden cliff we decided that it was no longer time for doing anything stupid. We would not take the pass. We had reached the heighest point but it didn't look safe enough to continue. That was enough. A little disappointed but both satisfied with our decision we trudged back through our footsteps and made our way back down the valley. Once we got out of the snow the feeling began to return to our toes and we pushed back to the shelter where we had lunched earlier. With a wind picking up and no standout spots for a tent we made use of the shelter, cooked a well earned dinner and rolled out our sleeping bags in the dark little stone brick hut. There was enough space for two and quite a few mice who, unknown to us, charged an annoying tax of keeping us up most of the night trying to eat our food and rubbish. In the morning we quickly ate breakfast, sloshed into our wet clothes and continued on down the valley into the canyon Anisclo heading towards the southern border of the park. We were both happy to make our way to the next town and find transport back to Jaca. We walked briskly through the forest with the canyon slopes rising either side and the water run off gushing by.

The sun broke through the clouds as we climbed a steep track out of the canyon and headed across to a small town called Nerin. We had a nice cooked lunch just out of town on the track, and used up the last of our food. In Nerin, we discovered that the bus didn't run this time of year and that we could either keep walking or catch a taxi. We were both pretty well spent and there was rain in the approaching clouds so we took the taxi option and got an expensive ride with a chatty local back to Jaca where we crashed back at the high school dorms and treated ourselves to a sit down dinner (recommended by the taxi driver).

I had offset a cold at the start of the trekking. With the walking done my body saw the chance to relax and the cold and flu took hold. I soldiered on and we caught the morning bus to Barcelona, travelling through the beautiful scenery of the Pyrenees, listening to pop rock ballads. We had heard good things about Barcelona and were excited to see the city for ourselves. As was our way we arrived without accommodation booked and jumped straight on the metro and found an informacion office in town. With my unnatractive illness (cough and snot and all that stuff) we decided against checking into a dorm room in a hostel and found a nice little hotel out of the city centre. I made use of the room and rested up to recover from my cold. The next day we walked all over Barcelona visiting buildings and parks of Antoni Gaudi, whose unique architecture is dotted around Barcelona and is a draw card for many tourists. We wandered about the Park Guell, sat about on the famous serpent shaped mosaic tiled benches and scrunched our noses at the tourists, clambering over the multicoloured tiled dragon, fighting for a stooge photo. Next we headed down to the amazing Sagrada Familia, an ever under construction Roman Catholic church, which began being built in the later 1800s. The building is absolutely stunning. You can get absolutely lost in the detail in the facades and the sheer size of the effort takes hold of you. We enjoyed a gander and had a breif walk through, but there are lots of tourists there. We continued on and had a quick look at the outer facades of a few more Gaudi buildings, put off by the ques of tourists outiside standing well back from the 30 minutes till entry signs. After a beautiful day wandering about the marvelously original works of Gaudi we then went and saw the most disappointing and frustrating film, Indiana Jones IV. Way to spoil a great day. Cursing Lucas and Spielberg we walked up the beach to Barceloneta and had a paella dinner before walking up the busy, tourist trap street of La Rambla. Urban trekking.

The next day we thought we'd try being social and checked into a central hostel. As we checked in we were informed by two blonde ditses from Perth that this was the "best hostel in Barcelona". We should have recognised an odd expression like that as being straight from "the book" and run from the building. Rather, we checked in and paid for three nights. Big mistake. This turned out to be the worst hostel, chock full of loud, obnoxious, arrogant, rude, disgusting, filthy, annoying, horrible young people. It was frustrating to feel stuck there (we could have moved but we had already paid and we are cheap). I suppose sometimes it can be good to immerse yourself in what you really don't like, to ram home what it is you really do like.

We spent a few more days kicking around Barcelona. After all our fast paced travel throughout the trip we both would have prefered to have moved on, but we had a flight booked from a nearby airport and resigned ourselves to wait. It isn't a bad city to kill some time in, but we ended up staying there too long. An afternoon was given to the Picasso museum. The permanent display covered works throughout his life which was interesting with not so classic Picasso works. The more interesting display was a collection of pieces inspired by Velazquez's Las Meninas, which we had seen at the Prado in Madrid. Fascinating to see the impact and effect of one piece of art. We wandered around the Barri Gothic, sat at the beach, explored the market, enjoyed churros and hot chocolate, avoided the hostel, bought some clothes to replace those we had destroyed, took siesta, waited for the storeowners to wake up, ate seafood tapas and went bar hopping. Barcelona has a similar feel to Melbourne in parts, although it appears to have a much stronger tourism culture, similar to that of Sydney. I learned through my travels that I am not a city traveller.
From Barcelona we bussed up to Girona to catch the cheap flight to Paris. In Paris we nutted out how to get to the front door of my brother's friend, Mo, and waited for her to arrive. Mo became my favourite person in Europe in a short amount of time. Her generosity in letting us sleep on the floor of her little Paris flat was much appreciated. It didn't take much after the terrible hostel of the previous days. With only one day for me in Paris we quickly did a drive by of most of the sights, walking to Notre Dame, along the Seine, across the bridge full of kids socialising to the Louvre and to the Eiffel Tower at night.

The next day we took it easy and enjoyed baguettes throughout the day. The drizzle put us off walking too much so we took the metro to the Louvre which was underwhelming and overwhelming at the same time. Too many people, so much art, the crowds detracting from the experience. We wandered up to the Arc de Triomphe and around to the opera house. Continued our Spanish theme with a siesta before having dinner at the Lipp restaurant, another stop on the literary tour. The food was beautiful the wine was lovely and the desert was the best.

In the morning, I said goodbye to Ben - "see ya in a couple of weeks" and with the customary kisses on the cheek I was gone. On my own for the first time in a while it didn't take me long to get into trouble. Checking onto the Eurostar train I almost lost my mobile passing through the security scanner, the express train was delayed at the entry to the chunnel for two hours and in London I got my face on film before having a few drinks in an English pub with a beautiful Parisian/Spanish courtesan who ended the show by giving me a flamenco lap dance. Perhaps that is a story for another day.

In London I quickly took in the Thames and Big Ben before meeting up with my friend Charlotte, who kindly escorted me back to her London flat. Charlotte and I had a pleasant dinner in Notting Hill and a few drinks along the way. It was my shout as Charlotte was letting me crash on her couch, which proved to be the most comfortable bed I slept in for the entire trip. I was only in London the one evening but managed to do quite a bit including all the iconic London public transport, the tube, a big red double decker bus and a black cab. I'm sure there isn't much else to London. In the morning I was back on the train and out to the airport for the long flight back to Australia.