A sunday walk

So after a night on a blow up mattress that went down, but I was too sozzled and tired to notice, I woke up in Claire-Louise’s gorgeous sunny flat in Guildford. It was so nice a day we had brunch out on the balcony.

After a lazy morning, CL and I realized we didn’t have enough time left to do our day trip we had planned (as per usual Guildford Sundays) and as Simon and I had both lived in Guildford and loved it, I really just wanted to show mum around.

Me at sunny CL's planning our day

So we set off to walk thru town and then do one of CL’s and my favourite walks.  I love Guildford it has all the high street shops, theatre, cinema, lots of pubs and even a few dodgy nightclubs but then if you walk in the right direction within 10 min you are out in the countryside. Oh and it even has a river running through town.  The River Wey.  Though I must say they haven’t made enough use of it,  there are no restaurants or cafés and there are only two pubs that over look it and one of them is always in the shade!

Mum and I had packed for cold weather, somehow when we got to UK we realised we had both taken our shorts out at the last minute.  It was hot outside! And we were going to be as the English call it rambling. So I would just like to say a big mention to CL for the size of her wardrobe and the fact it could fit both mum and I out in clothes for a ramble.

Guildford high st

After taking mum to the castle, she, as most people are, was surprised we had one, especially in the middle of town.  We set off on our walk, we were starting it in a different spot, we usually start at the river but we decided we would show mum that on the way back. I had done a walk starting from the castle once before and both CL and I had looked up the walk before we left.  We promptly started disagreeing on if we were going the right direction. But as per usual I was sure I was correct and then when we had walked a bit further and we were still in suburbia I had to apologise and agree we must have taken a wrong turn at the start!

But I was following my inbuilt compass (my fluke compass)... and we stumbled upon a walking track sign and followed that through some laneways. And ta da we found ourselves crossing a road and entering a carpark at the start of a walk. Having no idea how we got there or if it was the correct walk we congratulated ourselves anyway.  It seemed to go the right direction, the other walk to newlands corner could be seen across the downs heading parallel to us and that matched the map we had seen.

We were heading to St Martha’s on the Hill church on top of St Marthas Hill along the Pilgrims Way which is part of the North Downs Way. A few years ago I convinced a few mates to go in the Oxfam Trailwalker and CL was one of our training partners for this trek, most of our walks took us along this stretch though we usually reached it from the River Wey along the Pilgrams Way.  It had also been a few years since we had done a walk.  (my fault I left Guildford for the big smoke) so our memories were a little bit sketchy!

Anyway we were on our way and mum was entering her first bit of English forest.

We were heading uphill though not really a track we recognised we thought we were heading in the right direction. I was conscious of the time though, we had headed off a bit late.

Finally just to confirm we were heading the right way, while mum was off chasing a squirrel with her camera, I asked someone coming the other way if St Marthas Church was this direction they said yes just keep heading the way your going.

We came to another car park and ‘a you are here’ sign, I love you are here signs… when they actually say you are here. This one didn’t. It was just a sketch showing the walk. I thought I knew where we were on it.  And so we kept following the track we were on and heading up a steep hill there at the top was St Martha’s Church. 

St Martha's on the Hill

This church was first built in 1100, it burnt down and then has been rebuilt numerous times by different people, but its tiny, still very old and lovely. All wood, white washed and un- decorated with a big bell attached to a rope that hangs down inside the church. The first day we came here we accidently ended up here on an open day.  CL got to ring the bell and we had the history explained to us. The next time we came CL thought she could still ring the bell, man we got in big trouble apparently that means someone has died!

We sat in the sun on a wooden seat outside the church yard looking out at the view and ate left over strawberries from brunch.

I realised how turned around I had got when I was trying to work out which village was which in the view, the way I thought the sign had said we were coming in was actually opposite to where we had actually come in. I thought we had come to the church via the back way but infact we had come in the way we were meant to. I was soooo confused!

So back through the church yard we went, which meant through the graveyard but to be honest what a place to be buried, what a view!

We tried to make sure we were on pilgrims way, so we would walk back a different way and end up walking home along the river. We checked out the ‘you are here sign again’ and following posted signs.

Then the signs ended, as seems to happen all through Europe and we were just following the track. I began to worry, I had thrown my thermal jumper in my bag but CL didn’t have anything, mum only had a light jumper and we were all in shorts.  It was 4pm by this time and we were not prepared in any way to be caught outside at night lost in the woods.  I didn’t say anything though, It was a track and it was leading somewhere and unlike the australian bush, there were villages all around. It wasn’t going to be dark for a few more hours, I was just being a worry wart.

We then ended up on the same track that we had walked in on. I was quiet relieved to realise this. But we were disappointed to miss the walk to the river. 

When we got to the end of the track we decided to head down the road instead heading up the laneway towards the top of town. We turned a corner and opposite the end of the road could be seen the playing fields of Shalford Park which is situated along the river. I started to get excited.. it was beginning to seem that we had walked the pilgrims way somehow after all.

Just before we crossed the road into Shalford Park we noticed the road we had just walked down was aptly named…. Pilgrims way.

We had planned to complete this section of pilgrims way and take mum up to the ruins of St Catherine’s on the other side of the river but we felt we were running out of time and not as fit as we thought we were. We left that for the next morning.

The River Wey

We wandered along the river and back into town. We watched a canal boat going through the lock. Something CL and I had never stopped to watch even though the system is located in town and near one of our favourite pubs.

We then headed back up to CL’s place via one of my fav walks in town, through the narrow passageway up onto the cobbled road of Quarry St and past St Mary’s and onto the High St.

St Mary’s is the oldest church in town. People have worshipped there for over 1000 years.  Something I find hard to comprehend.  There is a story told that the wall had to be moved a meter as Queen Victoria couldn’t fit her carriage down Quarry St. But I haven’t seen this confirmed anywhere. 

St Mary's Church

My favourite short cut

the Guildford Scholar

The Guildford Town Hall Clock

We finished the day with a nice quiet evening of being spoilt by CL of a lovely home cooked meal, a bottle of wine and a girly film. 

Time and Navigation were not on our side

So I was wondering if I should tell you if I ever met Dracula or if I should tell you another story and let you hang for a little while longer. I realize it’s been a longtime between storytime with shell sessions and I apologies heartily. But getting back into the swing of work again has taken its toll.

Also when I decided to finish writing this adventure story today I realized I had lost it. I have actually lost two stories but luckily I had already told you one.

So here’s hoping I remember enough to make this an adventure worth reading about.

Oh and no I’m not going to tell you about Dracula im going to save that for another day.  I know im cruel.

So where was I… oh that’s right Glastonbury and the very strange B&B… here we go…

I awoke to the sound of a conversation. A very loud one in the room next door or so I thought. Considering we had been told breakfast wasn’t till 9, I thought it quiet rude that they would sit and have a loud breakfast right next door before hand. On closer listening I realized it sounded almost like a monologue. 

I soon understood that I was not going to be going back to sleep with this weird conversation next door as I couldn’t quiet make out the words and hence it sounded like the drone of bees and that really wasn’t helpful for sleep.

After dressing and repacking it was 8.45 and as I could still hear the conversation I thought it time we ventured out to find the breakfast room.

The kitchen door was still closed but it was from behind this that I could hear what now definitely sounded like a monologue. I knocked and wasn’t heard but decided to enter anyway, hey I was hungry.

We were greeted by the strangest sight of a fellow in an oriental dressing gown tied loosely with a big thick old fashion corded tie with the chest open,  silky trousers and bare feet who had backed the breakfast lady up into the corner of her kitchen and was talking at her. This explained the monologue.

He gave us a startled look, said goodbye to the breakfast lady and fled. Only to appear 5 minutes later dressed normally and wearing flip-flops.

She gave us a very grateful look and sat us down for breakfast, which wasn’t quiet ready due to Mr Talkalot.  But was still delicious.

I tried very hard not to catch Mr Talkalot’s eye as I could see he was dying to get into conversation with us. But I was conscious of the time and well I wasn’t awake enough to deal with someone like him! He seemed to be one of those people who head to Glastonbury to find themselves, think they are cool because they are a trying to be a hippie but just totally miss the mark.  

I know its rude but I kept hoping mum wouldn’t start talking to him, luckily she was feeling like me or was too interested in breaky to realize.

Eventually he started talking to the breakfast lady again and to save her she dragged us into the conversation. I was sure we would never get out of there!

Luckily I found a break in the conversation and we made a dash for it. Hitting the road much later than I wanted to we started out for the must see of England. Stonehenge. 

Now I would just like to point out, coming at Stonehenge from the non London side there are no signs until you can almost see it yourself. Even though I knew I was on the right road and we had a map, without signs to let me know im on the right track I stress. I still think they need to think about signs, im really not the most confident tour guide.

When we finally arrived into the carpark of Stonehenge it was to be greeted by busloads of tourists down from London on whirl wind tours. I totally forgot about that - an early start and breakfast on the run should have been the plan.

We hesitated, im not a people person, but we were here and I couldn’t let Mum not see Stonehenge no matter how crowded it was going to be.

Now this was my third time here and I love it each time. The Audio guide is one of the best ive had and I am just captivated by the stones. I cant believe im here everytime I see it.  I know I know – it must be the hippy in me.

Everyone stops as soon as they get to the first stone to take a photo, no matter that the crowd in front of them are doing the same thing and blocking the view of the stones… never less mum and I fell for it and tried to take one of her there as well!  Tourists.

The last shot of the day... the best

 As I said ive been three times.. I know the view gets better as you move around the circle, the path pulls away from the stones and the crowd thins out… but I still try and take photos at the start and all the way round everytime.. some professional I am.  I end up with millions of photos..none good till the end. What can I say? as I mentioned im captivated by the stones.

I lost mum once again as I was taking all these photos.. lost her among a busload of Japanese tourists (all getting in my photos..grr).  Finally found her way around the other side having her photo taken by a distinguished elderly gentleman… obviously gave up waiting for me to take her photo!

Thought id get the distinguished gentleman to take a photo of both of us seeing as he was already taking pics

The slaughter stone - so called for its blood red stain

So one more must see before you die icon down .. after escaping the souvenir shop, never again. I had to bolt for the door before I freaked out.. I needed a coffee. Even with our late start we seemed to have time to take a detour  so we decided to continue in our King Arthur theme and visit Winchester. Coffee and a quick lunch stop. Hmm yes I knew better,  you can never have a quick visit to Winchester.

After finally finding a carpark, it seems every man and his dog has headed to Winchester for the afternoon. We head to the Great Hall.  Here hanging on the wall is King Arthurs Round Table.  (some say it’s a replica.. but I don’t mind, its King Arthurs round table! Though I haven’t quiet worked out what its doing in Winchester)

Check the size of that table and Great Hall!

King Arthurs Round Table - Winchester

The Great Hall with Politician 'family tree' - Winchester

The great hall was the seat of parliament in the middle Ages. ....  This fascinated mum more than King Arthurs table.  Maybe King Arthur was wearing a bit thin.

Having done our usual trick and lost track of time we power walked on.. I introduced mum to Cornish pasties.. (Continuing in the tradition of Simon and I last time we visited) . We eat these and our coffees (finally!) sitting on the cathedral green… along with what seems like the whole of the towns population. Though I soon realize looking around that its not a green.. it’s a graveyard!

No-one seems to care everyone is having their picnics at total ease, out enjoying the sun in the tradition of the English on a sunny day. Or so it seems until you look closer and around every gravestone is at least a meter of clear space. Everyone has unconsciously not sat near the tombs. Which is totally understandable not my thing either.

IMum got this nice shot of winchester Cathedral the graveyard is off to the left. You can just see one tomb on the left edge of this shot.  (Very annoyed we didnt think to get any shots of people picnicking amongst the tombs)

Checking our time we rush to have a quick look inside and decide not to on finding out the cost. I couldn’t justify paying that for the 15 minutes we could give it. I’d programed in enough cathedrals to our itinerary to skip this one. Jane Austen’s grave would have to wait for another day.   

I also thought that Jane Austen would appreciate us visiting her house more than her grave.  That’s where we were rushing to next. I lived 15 min down the road from her house for 5 years and never made it there. This was one of the places I insisted we visit. Though I think our problem with time was that we had a chance to see it the next day if we needed though preferred to get it on the way to our stop for the night. So we needed to get there before it closed and get out in time to make it to Guildford by six.

Hmm now remember I said that I knew better than to try and do a quick visit to Winchester… the reason for this is that if you drive in you cannot get out.  Its like a black hole all roads lead in none seem to lead out. Fair enough we get lost and end up driving back the way we came. 

You know how dad said no fights… well we came pretty close.  What’s a road trip without the navigator and driver getting into a fight? The navigator once you end up on the wrong road cannot read quick enough to satisfy the driver who is trying to keep to the right speed, but not go too far in the wrong direction, read signs and try and picture the map in their head.  Meanwhile the navigator is frustrated, your lost so doesn’t know where on the map you are, most usually has never been in this area and is getting yelled at by the driver.    

Well id been in the area knew which road we were on and which one I wanted to get to… so decided to go cross country. Mum knew where we were by then and had worked out how to get across… if only the map had matched the actual road network it all would have been fine.

Time was ticking away.. We saw a sign I went one way… mum was sure it said the other way. I insisted no it wasn’t on there…

Hmmm when we pulled over 5 min later after I realized that we really didn’t want to go the way we were going. I apologised… the sign must have been right or it wasnt on the sign at all. (Unusual for me to read signs wrong.)

We totally were going cross country now.. there were no road names on the map, and no signs on the road we were on. We had no idea where we were but I was sure it would all work out… there are always signs in country England.  Plus mum was back being happy again I had pulled up next to a thatched cottage. She was out taking photos while I worked out where we were!

Mum's thatched roof - somewhere to the east of winchester....

Well it worked out. We finally made it onto the A31 you should have heard the cheering in the car when a sign for a village that was actually marked on the map appeared and we could work out the next village we needed.

So our only problem next was… I didn’t quite know where Jane Austen’s house was.. I was sure the turn off was off the A31…id passed it so many times! But you know when you see something, make a mental note to yourself you really should go there and then forget in the excitement of wherever you are off to at the time?

It wasn’t on our maps or in our guidebooks and I was beginning to doubt myself a little like Stonehenge.  We were getting closer and closer to Guildford, we decided that if we couldn’t find it Iwe could check the internet later and we would go the next day. And there it was and we were just in time. Last entry!  We had been taking photos out the front when I realized we really should check that they were still open and take photos after!

Jane Austen's House - Hampshire

It was all ok, I wasn’t excited about it at all inside it was just another old house… and then I was standing next to the table she had written all her books at, and it hit me, this was Jane Austen’s house and I was next to her table.  Some of my fav books had all been written right there. After that I was like an American tourist… I turned around and there was the dress Kate Winslett had worn in sense and sensibility.. click… the first ever edition of sense and sensibility, written ‘by a lady’ as she wrote anomously so she could be a normal person in society.  Click.  By the time we had finished looking and taking photos of everything.. we had been locked in! We had to get the security lady to let us out of the house and back into the barn which was the entrance and gift shop.

Jane Austen's writing desk!

First Edition of Sense and Sensibility signed by a Lady

Luckily I already had all the books (except one, I now own it, from that gift shop) and the American tourist feeling had worn off enough not to buy all the other tat in the shop.

So it was homeward bound well that’s what it felt like. Back to Guildford and a Guildford Family dinner party. Mum was going to be able to finally put faces to names… but well I wasn’t expecting her to get all the correct names and faces.. We had about 20 people at dinner!

The only place we could get for that many people on a Sat night in Guildford was the Rum Wong and sitting on the floor Thai style… Some how all the tall fellows ended up on the wall side.. Mainly cause us girls needed to socialize.. and they had trouble unfolding themselves at the end of the night!

Thanks once again to everyone for coming along.  The Guildford family dinner for the last time.. again.. im sure there will be another one someday soon ;-)

Dracula is not home please come back tomorrow.

Today was the day I had been counting down too, like Christmas morning, marking off the sleeps on the calendar. Well I wasn’t as bad as that, my excitement had been dulled a bit learning that it was all a lie but still I was looking forward to the very touristy tacky place it was going to be.

Today was the day I was to go visit Dracula’s castle or Bran castle as its known. Dracula, Vlad Tepes is his actual name, never actually lived there and it depends on which guide book you read as to if he even stayed there a few nights, was imprisoned for a short while or never placed a foot in the door. Its all a Romanian tourism board little white lie. But the pictures looks amazing and I actually think it may have been used in the Bram Stoker’s Dracula the movie (the one with Keanu in it)

Ive been very excited as I really didn’t know what to think about Dracula’s birthplace in Sigihoasa. I expected something a little bit more than an art café, a big menu and a little plaque to say Vlad Tepes was born there.  I guess it didn’t help that I was a little bit of a zombie after travelling through the night to get there. I had my picture with the Dracula cardboard cut out and the house.  You can tell by the picture I was a little confused. Then tried to have coffee with him but didn’t have any money yet so that put an end to that. Therefore today is to be the day….

Me at Dracula's Birthplace - Sighisoara Romania 

Can you tell I’m psyching myself up here.  I should have been very excited but I hadn’t slept very well at all and all I wanted to do was stay in bed. I wasn’t feeling up to it. But up I got, put the Easter call to dad and out we headed.

I have made many a mistake with this holiday, school holidays, royal wedding, not flying from Prague and now of course Easter in a very religious country. Luckily Dracula doesn’t take stock in Easter and so he accepts guests on Easter Sunday.   So we would not miss out on Peles castle one of the most impressive castles in Europe, we organized it so that we visited it on Easter Saturday a day that doesn’t mean anything in Romania and then would visit Dracula on Easter Sunday.

Our trip to Peles went off very well apart from convincing ourselves we were on the wrong train and would end up in Bucharest or somewhere in the middle of nowhere and have to find our way back. Our tickets said a different train to the one the carriage we were in said, we didn’t know the final destination of the train we were to catch, just had the platform the ticket lady said the train would leave from. We were in a fancy carriage but our ticket said we were to be on a regional train which are usually the old rattlers. The train had pulled up ten minutes before it was to depart and everyone rushed to get onto it including us as you get caught up in the rush thinking it will leave early. We grabbed some seats and then watched everyone try and find their reservations, this concerned us a bit as we didn’t think we had any seats. We assumed we were on the right train. Then we looked at our tickets and realized the train name was different but by this time the train was leaving albeit 5 min late. We settled back to see what would happed it was only 10am, the castle was open till six so we had all day to get there!  The worst that could happen was we would be kicked off at the next station and we would have to buy another ticket to get us to the correct station.

The conductor came along after about ½ hr, we hadn’t stopped anywhere yet. This concerned me a little bit, as far as I was aware the station we were heading to was a small one. He took our tickets, looked at us, at our tickets, hesitated then punched them and gave them back to us. We assumed this meant we were on the right train, I couldn’t see him leaving us on there even if he couldn’t be bothered trying to explain to us we were on the right train. All I knew was we were to be on the train about 1.5 hrs.

When we arrived at the station we realized it was a ski resort for the elite Romanians and therefore an important stop.  We got off the train and noticed some old rattler carriages at the end of the train, guess we had just found our reserved seats.

Peles castle is amazing, in time when it gets onto the must see check list, I think it will be almost as visited as Neuschwanstein, although it doesn’t have as dramatic a back drop and none of the rooms based on operas, it is almost as lavish. Its entirely completed, a whole 170 rooms worth and is also built just for looks not defense. Each room is based on a different theme, for example, the Florentine room , Turkish room, Moorish room, English room, Viking room, Hall of Honour (main entrance, 3 storeys high, entirely covered in wood carvings). It was built as a summer residence and is the first castle in Europe to have electricity, central heating and an elevator.

Peles Castle - Sinaia Romania

So back to Dracula, we headed off to the bus station, just around the corner from where we were staying, only for it to seem a little deserted. We didn’t expect all buses to be working but it didn’t look like anything was open at all. We tried to find the platform and timetable. We ended up asking one of the little shop people, the only shop open, about the bus to bran and he said no buses today, the bus station closed.  We were devastated. I had read that the buses left from Bartolomeu station. This was just around the corner from the bus station, but when we asked the fellow he said it was only local buses from there. There had been buses at the main station so we decided to jump in a taxi to the main station and see if they were leaving from there only. We couldn’t find anything, we did have some random guy offer to drive us there and back for some ghastly amount of money. We asked inside the station and got told buses left from Bartolomeu. Well were we not happy that we had just come from that side of the city and that the fellow had given us the mis-information.  

We went to get a taxi back but they wanted to charge us a fortune, we had been told what local bus we could catch back but we couldn’t find out where to get a ticket from. So we decided to start walking. By this time it was almost 11.15, so we realized that by the time we could find a bus to bran, if they existed, it would be half the day gone by the time we got there.  We decided that we both really didn’t want to see Bucharest and would be very happy to stay another night in Brasov and see Dracula the next day and travel from Basov to the airport on Tuesday. It just meant all hope was resting on Dracula being home on Monday So we turned around and headed back to the station to try for a train to Sibiu.

The next train to Sibui was leaving in 5 min, we tried to purchase a ticket and she kept saying the 2 o’clock train instead. Turns out the 11.30 was cancelled. It just wasn’t our day. We asked what time that train would get in and it was a 4.5 hour journey. Thank goodness we didn’t get the 11.30 as I think the last train back was 5.30!

We decided to let that one go and try and find another taxi back to Bartolomeu Station and give it one last try. Well Bartolomeu was definitely not where we needed to be and the mini bus station also down the road was also only local buses. The information fellow there told us the buses leave from the bus station around the corner… the one we started at… but none today. So the original fellow hadn’t lied to me, what I hadn’t known, that would have made things easier was the bus station was also called Bartolomeu.

So there was no getting to Dracula today, instead we wandered into town for a nice relaxed day in the sun with what seemed like the entire town of Brasov eating icecream in the square.

Brasov main square and town hall

Where's Shelly? - Im amoungst this icecream eating crowd somewhere...

Dracula was now resting on us having accommodation available at our hotel for Monday night or at least in Brasov… but that was to be worried about later. Brasov was to be explored properly and icecream to be tasted.

19th Century Orthodox Cathedral - oddly placed in amongst the buildings lining the main square 

Ekaterina Gate - Brasov

St Nicholas Orthodox Catherdral - Brasov

The Cemetery wall at St Nicholas

Me and the Brasov - Check out all the people in the town square below

The Black Church - Brasov

Well deserved cake and wine but this is not just cake... this is icecream cake... it has icecream layered between slabs of cake! 

Its Big

Its like the monster in the room that no one talks about. People see, they look twice or raise their eyebrows. No I haven’t dyed my hair blue or grown a wart on the end of my nose.  No one said anything until a German waiter said to me ‘its big.’ And yes it is. Its my new wheelie bag donated kindly by Karen.  

Its great I don’t have to worry about shoving things in they just fit, though I will have a weight problem on my way back I think. It actually wheels so it feels much lighter (as long as im not going too far) but it is very very big. I feel like everyone thinks I must be a bit of a princess to need all this luggage to travel with though my clothes definitely tell otherwise.  Its big enough I don’t have to stoop to wheel it though!

Its getting it on and off trains and up stairs that is proving interesting. Especially the old rattlers in Romania onto stations that don’t have proper platforms. But it wheels and the handle is still attached and best of all it was free and got me out of a tight spot so im not complaining.

It takes up a heap of room in the train cabins (which is a bonus as it keeps most people from joining us). It doesn’t fit in the luggage racks at the end of the normal carriages either. We have to start getting ready 15 min before the train station to make sure we can get all our gear and get my case out past everyone, Id hate to see what would happen if we had to get off quickly!

I actually had a grandma ask if she could help me get it off the train the other day and some poor young teenage boy decided to try and help me when I was trying to wheel it down some stairs, he regretted it when he went to lift it and it was almost as big as him!

We had to travel to the Pensiunea with the boot of the taxi open yesterday as my bag and the spare tire wouldn’t allow the boot to close.  Its all rather embarrassing, but its part of the adventure, provides us with some laughs. I am comfortable in the fact that I didn’t pack like this to begin with, though it is looking slightly fuller now.

I once travelled for a while with a fellow who had what we considered at the time a massive bright red wheelie case. He also had ended up with this case because his broke at an airport and this was all they had in the shop there. I really wish I hadn’t given him so much stick now, Though as least mine isn’t bright red!

Karen you are a lifesaver and the wheelie case has added a different element to our adventures…also I know I can blame it all on dad! 

Our luggage while waiting at Bratislava Station. You can see the doors of the trains in the background and the step up into them. 



Mum laughingly took this photo to show the size of the bag and the lack of leg room for me.



The train journey continues...

So we had the cabin to ourselves hence our confusion of the conductor wanting seat reservations, though I recommend that people get them in the future to save on hassle and if the train had been full it would have been a very long 11 hours standing in the corridor.  I was amazed the conductor only wanted two seat reservations and not one for mums suitcase as it was sitting on the seat next to me. There is nowhere on these trains to place suitcases.

With the delay in Budapest and the incident with the train conductor it was now 1.30am so mum decided to turn in for the night. She quickly realized she could spread out along the seats and have her own bed.

I tried to write my blog but soon my eyes would not stay open and I too curled up to go to sleep. Mum had been quiet sneaky and taken the side of the train without the suitcase on the seat. So I had two chairs to curl up on but was tired enough not to care. I also was very thankful mum had insisted on taking the blankets from the plane.  I wondered how long our private cabin would last. We were both savvy enough to know to use our day packs with our valuables as pillows.

What you can just see in this pic is the suitcase on the third chair and my camera bag as a pillow

The next thing we knew their was a massive bang on our door. I jumped a mile. Passports! was shouted at us. Then a guard opened our door and demanded our passports. She was nice about it but walked off with our passports, just a little way down the corridor, mum was at the door to see where she was going, after our tickets going walking we weren’t taking any chances. There were some questions being asked of someone a few cabins down. Our passports were handed back and we could calm down after our nasty wake up and curl up again.

Not for long, once again our door was knocked on, quieter this time, and we were once again woken up to a demand for passports. The Romanian border guard, we heard Australians mentioned before they even got our passports, we were famous. They asked where we were going ‘Sighisoara’. ‘ahh Dracula Park’. I smiled and nodded, slightly embarrassed but then I was off to meet Dracula.

This little conversation was a bit of a relief for me as it meant we were on the right train. I had been a little worried, as the train was to split and go to three different destinations and I knew we had stopped for ages at the last stop, long enough for the carriages to part. No announcements had been made or had made it to our cabin anyway, none along the whole trip. I had been having visions off us getting off the train in Buglaria in the morning and having to find our way back to Romania. 

I had checked the sign on the train door when we got on but had started to doubt myself as you do, and there was no way to check. I thought the Hungarian conductor would have said something if I was on the wrong part of the train but then you never know, all he was worried about was my seat reservation!

Once again we fell asleep and a relaxed one for me now, to be woken up again by the Romanian conductor, I had forgotten about my seat reservation problem by this time.  No trouble what so ever, I didn’t hand him mums seat reservation though just incase it made him ask for mine.

Mums comment was thank goodness we didn’t get a sleeper cabin we would have felt quiet cheesed off with all this constant waking up. 

By this stage is was dawn, and I sat up to watch the sunrise, I missed most of it even though it was spectacular, as I just couldn’t keep my eyes open.

Then we got visitors, luckily by this stage we had had our sleep, though mum kept sleeping sitting up for a long time after. I was worried that this part of the trip had killed her, I had realized very early on when I brought the tickets, with the cost of the trip and the length of time we were travelling for (we had also taken an early morning train to Bratislava, wandered there till the 8pm train out to Budapest, it may have been easier to fly from Prague.  (though i argued with myself i was being more environmentally friendly)

train decorations at Bratislava station

When the people joined our carriage, I looked at the time and the time we were to arrive at the stop they had alighted and we were on time. I couldn’t work it out, as we must have made up time. We had left ¾ hr late and stopped at the Romanian border for a very long time. But then when they rang their family and said the train was running an hour late, I remembered we must have crossed a time zone.

I was so glad the lady in Bratislava had given us a time table with all the stops on it, as I would have had no idea when to get off, there were no announcements, no idea of time to our destination, the train was continuing on to Bucharest after our stop and I really didn’t want to go there, and I had no real idea of how late we were!

Mum woke up, luckily, as I was disappointed she was missing the scenery. Most of it was gorgeous, hills, rivers and forests, rustic rural scenes, people working the fields by hand and with horses. Horse and carts travelling along the roads.

They still have shepherds - you just just see him in the middle of the shot

It wasn’t all nice thought, we went through one area that was a ghost town of a huge abandoned and burnt out factory. The surrounding district of farmland and hills around it looked like it was in drought. Which confused us as there was a little bit of water in the streams and the grass along the train corridor was green. We found out later this was 2 factories one a black smoke factory and the other an old lead factory. A Greek company had owned the lead factory and made so much money from it, they kept just paying their Environmental fines, they were nothing to such a bit company, instead of fixing the problem. The whole area is contaminated. Finally the European Union shut them down, but their legacy is still there.

When we arrived in Sighisoara we headed off for our hotel. Having a rest from dragging our wheelie bags over the cobble stones before crossing a bridge mum had her first meeting with a begging gypsy kid. He would not leave us alone. She handled it quiet well but I think after the long trip, the conductor and the long walk to the hotel this was a bit too much.  Neither of us were really liking Sighisoara at the moment.

A shower and a cup of tea and she was right again, and she said she had really enjoyed the overnight trip, it had been ‘an experience’.

Surprisingly I was feeling ok too, I thought I would be quiet tired, Id had a few  hours less sleep than mum but maybe it was the excitement of being about to meet Dracula that kept me going.

Lunch and Sighisoara were calling us.

Lunch was going ot be something a little more classy than this option at one of the stations. Love the little fellow in a hurry. 

A train journey

I must apologise this adventure is a little out of time order but i feel it needs to be told now and i have been slack on the writing of our past adventures, dont worry they will come. Please enjoy this one in the meantime.... this occurred last night ago.

As im writing this ive just had a run in with a train conductor, my second for the day.  The first one, mum and I accidently sat in first class. We were rushing to get on the train with all our stuff and find a free box, yep there are still the old dog boxes running in eastern Europe. We got in and realized there was a lot of room. Wow these international trains are great. Then mum said lets hope it isn’t first class and we both realized it actually was. I had forgotten to look for the second class carriage.  Mum was all for sitting there till the conductor kicked us out. I was scared he would charge us… it has been known to happen to uni students on Geelong bound trains..personal experience.

Our luxury train trip lasted a whole 15 min, before the conductor not only kicked us out but also followed us to make sure we were out of first class zone.  The walk of shame back to second class. With all our stuff.   

My second run in for the day was a little worse than that.  We had brought our tickets to Romania in Slovakia from the main train station in Bratislava. It was an overnight train. The lady was being rushed to pack up by her boss and quickly printed us our tickets. No sleeper car apparently, turns out there is sleeper cars on this train but we are giving her the benefit of them all being sold out and not the fact she didn’t want to redo our tickets. What she didn’t do for us was sell us a seat reservation. This did not go down well with the conductor and he left his little lacky with us to sell us a seat reservation.

We had boarded the train in Bratislava, arrived at Budapest and switched trains. We have no Hungarian whatevers and have spent all our remaining euro in Slovakia because we are travelling to Romania which is also on its own currency.  

Are you beginning to see my problem? Im beginning to see my problem is that I need to travel with a lot more euro, its replaced the US dollar in its usability.

Anyway this lackey wanted 3 euro each for a seat reservation. Luckily we hadn’t spent the money we were going to in Budapest on food, which we could have seeing as the train was 40 min late. But this still only left us with 4 euro. We tried to explain the lady hadn’t sold us one, or told us we needed one, but all he kept saying was seat reservation 3 euro, his only English I suspect. We gave him the 4 we had, which he could see we had pooled together, but then he asked me for my 3 euro! I offered him US and Pounds but he was having none of it. Who has heard of US being rejected? (Then again at is current rate…) Id opened my suitcase, and day bag looking for more, he could see we had none but he kept insisting. He was obviously under orders and could not imagine another solution. He then disappeared with our tickets and money. We were a just little worried, though we had to laugh at the situation, it was so unbelievable. 

He came back with one seat reservation and our tickets. He gave mum the change, insisting it was only one reservation but looking like he couldn’t handle it, he obviously wanted to kick me off the train. Mum thought he was saying we only had to buy one and thanked him. He finally gave me one last look and fled. Wow what a start to our overnight journey. 

We are a little unsure of what is going to happen when we meet the Romanian Ticket inspector but all we can do now is wait and see.

Time to visit the Hippies

Lacock, to keep with the Jane Austen theme, a tiny little historic village was our first stop. Its the scene of many period dramas, including the local village in BBC pride and prejudice. And for those of you who are an avid Harry Potter fans like myself the Lacock Abbey was used for the arched hallway they are always walking along inside the school.

On the map Lacock is right next to a main road. Lets just say its signage is terrible or we were too far asleep still but many U-turns were completed, we were beginning to think even the village we could see was an illusion.

We couldn’t find our way inside the Abbey but as we were leaving we found the gate to walk through the surrounding grounds, it was unlocked. So we went in, turns out its part of the massive walking trail network of England so we weren’t breaking any rules. More is the pity it would have been fun to see mum being a bit of a rebel.

Lacock Abbey

We finally arrived in Wells, only to discover that we had spent all our change on dinner last night. We had to borrow 30p off the ticket inspector to pay for our parking! She was lovely about it though. We stupidly thought that an hour would be fine to see the cathedral, also having bought a ticket we couldn’t just top it up like a parking metre so an hour would have to do. When we finished in the cathedral we were half an hour over our ticket. (As you can tell timing is not our strong point) Power walking back to the car we decided that the Bishops Palace had to be visited, this was a lot to do with the fact that we also had not had lunch yet and a picnic in the palace grounds sounded lovely. So another ticket, a coffee shop, and co-op later and we were sitting on the well manicured lawn of the palace grounds, there were no signs saying keep off the lawn but it didn’t quiet feel right.  Then other people started to follow our lead so I settled back and enjoyed our picnic.

A bit of arm chair photography - The view from our picnic spot

 This wasnt our picnic lawn it was a keep off the grass lawn - Bishops Palace with Wells Cathedral in background 

Inside of the palace visited and we were on our way to Glastonbury.  We found our b&b and a land lord the opposite of our one from Bath. This one was like pulling teeth to get any information.  We made a dash for the Abbey and had a lovely hour or so wandering the ruins. The place is full of information but best of all it contains the apparent resting place of King Arthur and Lady Guinevere. (There is a theory that the monks needed money to rebuild their monastery after a devastating fire, so decided to find King Arthurs remains but they were reconsecrated by King Edward I so that is good enough for me)

Me with King Arthur - It may look like it but I made sure i wasnt standing on his grave

Having paid my respects to King Arthur and Lady Guinevere and overstaying my welcome in the Abbey, it was time to check out the power of Glastonbury Tor.  Having missed out on all the new age shopping for some reason they keep normal shopping hours in Glastonbury. We had an early dinner at the hundred monkeys café, being none the wiser at the end of the dinner to what monkeys had to do with Glastonbury we raced to pick up the car and find the Tor before sunset.

This once again seemed easier said than done but a few lucky turns down little country lanes and we found the stairs up.  We are pretty sure we broke many a record to get to the top and find a spot before the sun sank.  Settling down in our chosen place we joined a few others in the wonder of the sunset. I was very jealous of everyone else with their glasses of wine, it was a lot more sophisticated crowd than I expected. Guess its not quiet Hippy season yet. Whens Glastonbury festival?

Just as the sun was sinking a set of Bagpipes started up, (not just by themselves they were being played by a guy all in white with a tartan beret) and played the sun down. There was silence by all, just watching and listening. The tower of St Michael on the top of the Tor makes a perfect amplifier. At least who ever was playing the bagpipes had a little bit of talent unlike the saxophone who was wondering around the base of the Tor on our way up, he had obviously been asked to go play elsewhere by his family or friends. 

Not one of my better shots but only one i could get without any dancers in the picture

After the sun had sunk, a didgeridoo joined the bagpipes, unusual combination but it kinda worked. A few hippys came out of the woodwork and started dancing away. We decided to make it down before it got too dark, still being serenaded by the Saxophone, we shouldn’t have worried being such a clear night it was still light by the time we got home.  

After a bath being watched over by angels painted onto the ceiling, I crawled into bed not surrounded by as many candles, or crystals as expected in a Glastonbury b&b.  It was a very strange b&b our land lord never reappeared after he met us the first time. There were signs everywhere saying ring this number if you need help. No information booklet or anything. It felt like we were wandering around someones house without them knowing.  Breakfast also wasn’t till 9. This didn’t help my plan for us to start early we had a huge day the next day. But it did help my need for a sleep in.