Sick Bed, Flowers and Snakes.... Nepal Adventure Continues

Nepal Trip - Day 15 - Last Day in the Rural Countryside

Last night was rough. Enough said. 

So, needless to say I'm worthless today. All I can do is sleep, read, sleep, roll over and sleep. It takes me until noon before I can get anything fluid down me.

The kids and Randall go out for another school visit and I spend my time drifting in and out of the sounds of the rural life. The sounds of the farm animals, cuckoo birds, babies crying and dishes being washed on the side of the hill in the heat of the morning sun.

My spot for the day... Luckily my favorite travel author is keeping me company.... Thank you Michael Palin!

The family comes back late in the afternoon with stories of visiting another school, painting flowers and bumblebees. And heaps of drama. I nod and go back to sleep.

While I have been sleeping, the day seems to have been a strange one, with the stars not quite aligning around us. The family's adventure started with the car getting stuck in a ditch, next to a cliff. Of course I am out of order, the power doesn't come on all day (well that's not too unusual), and on the way home Durga and Gyan saw a car crash on the road and stayed to help. No one knows when they will be back. And to top it all off at dinner Jaimie stepped on a snake and the whole place erupts in frantic screaming (mainly from Sumi) while the village women go after it with sticks, creating utter chaos. I am so glad that I didn't know about the snakes while I was laying in the outdoor loo all night! Soon the poor wee snake is dead and everyone is laughing around the table again under the stars, enjoying a final dal baht meal together.

It's been a fabulous time spent in this rural environment, but our time here is done. It's time to move on tomorrow. Our lessons have been learned, friends made and many a story to use along the way.

Hopefully I will be upright enough to make the journey to the Tibetan border tomorrow morning. Another bus ride through the Nepali landscape. I am always happiest when I'm on the move.

For now I enjoy the sounds of the night and watch a brush fire move it's way slowly up a hill on the far side of the valley.

Namaste....

Day Five - the final day!

Looking down on Mistletoe Bay

The last 13 kilometers of the Queen Charlotte Track today! And it's the first day that we have any kind of a deadline. We are headed to Anakiwa, where we will catch the water taxi back to Picton at 3:30. Something tells me that we will be able to make it.


Really?! Over so soon? It seems like we've been on the trail forever and yet only just started. Maybe that is because this is just the beginning of our tramping, or possibly glamping, adventures.

The track is mellow today, mainly walking through undulating farmland with just a bit of native forest to give us a send off. It no longer feels like we are hiking in a remote place as little bits of civilization are ever more present - boats whizzing by, holiday houses and farm animals. The hills are no higher than our own Mount Maunganui at home so it's pretty easy. We catch up with some of the other hikers along the way and enjoy the relaxed pace. Apart from Clara's bee sting it was a perfectly peaceful way to end our big hike.

Spontaneous sister love - my favorite picture from the track

The end of the track!

By the time we reached Anakiwa we could feel the 70 kilometers in our legs and I was very happy to sit in the shade by the dock and rest my legs while the kids jumped off the water taxi jetty.

The Queen Charlotte Track has been a fantastic experience on many different levels. It has cemented in my mind that the greater outdoors are accessible and fun with a bunch of children. It has reconnected our family to the natural beauty of our country of New Zealand. It has given us all a space in which to breath, relax, joke, stretch and grow together away from the busy-ness of life. And it is has left us with memories that will last a lifetime.

Meaux and the Wonderful World of Euro Disney

God bless the creator of the nav sat direction system.

Looking at the Beautiful Meaux Cathedral from our hotel, across the river Seine

I'm sure it has saved many marriages!

It probably saved ours this day.

Driving a stick shift minivan through a medieval town, with sparse directions, across the biggest city in France (Paris) to another medieval town would be a challenge on any normal day. And a bicker-fest between the driver and navigator for sure! But thank goodness for Jill, the friendly English voice coming out of the navigational system that calmly guided us through all the obstacles and deposited us to our friends house in just the time it calculated for us. Best 20 Euro we spent the whole trip!

The last of the Chem trails over Meaux

Chem Trails

We are on our way to visit my childhood friend Erik and his lovely family. Erik, who was our next door neighbor and like a son to my parents, now lives in the little town of Meaux, on the outskirts of Paris, with his wife and two boys. It's been a decade since we've caught up in person, so it is long over due! (Do I even need to mention how excited Liam is to have some boys to play with!)

We have a wonderful afternoon and evening catching up on old times and new times, coming to grips with the loss of my parents and of course eating amazing food.

But one thing puzzled me. Above us in the lovely clear blue sky you can't help but notice a striking pattern forming from the air traffic above. It's the first I've heard about Chem Trails vs Con Trails. No one is quite sure what it is, whether it is some form of seeding for rain, or attempts to halt global warming, or possibly something more sinister. But it is certainly not the average airplane trails producing grids like this. I'd be interested to hear if anyone out there knows more about these Chem Trails?

The next day is the day the kids have been so excited about - Euro Disney! And it's made even more special by the fact that the Falvey family is going to join us! Yahoo!

What can you say? The happiest place on Earth - only we are in France. They've done a remarkably good job of recreating the original without completely copying it. The haunted mansion is the Phantom Manor and Sleeping Beauty's castle has a huge dragon underneath it. Oui! It was a wonderful day of sunshine, friends, princesses, roller coasters and crepes.

Juliet has adopted Erik and Muriel

Ahoy Matey

Thick as Thieves

Exhausted and happy we return to Erik and Muriel's house for dinner.

Just as we are parking our tire explodes. (Literally!)
Luckily we are with Friends. Muriel (god bless her) spends an hour on the phone wrangling with the rental car company, and when we do finally get someone out to fix the tire they discover the spare tire is flat as well! Figures. At least it's consistent. Another round of phone calls ensues. But Alas, the rental company cannot be stuffed finding us another car so they offer to pay for a shuttle into Paris the next day. It looks like our journey to Paris central tomorrow will be easier than planned. And everyone is looking forward to exploring this next amazing city - and last European city - of our trip....

Crashed out on the couch

A Tootle Around Normandy

What better way to awaken than with the birds!

Quite literally in our case. Our cozy little room on the third floor of the old Norman house that we are staying in is covered in vines. And as the sun rose so did our fine feathered neighbors who chirped away about the beauty of the new day. Randall and I snuggled back under the duvet with smiles on our faces and went back to sleep for another couple hours. (The sunrise is about 5am.)

When we do pull ourselves out of bed the birds are all off about their business and the lovely lady who runs the b&b has breakfast laid out on the patio. Looking down from our window there is a happy little red head singing away waiting for us to join her. Clara has always been our morning girl!









After eating the amazing home made pastries, fresh fruit, yogurt and coffee we are off again to take a tour of the region with our hosts. The day is brilliant. Blue skies and perfect pastoral vistas.

Inside St. George of Boscherville Abbey

We visit several abbeys along the way.

St. George of Boscherville Abbey- a perfect example of Norman workmanship. Light and airy, with beautiful gardens overlooking the Seine Valley; it sets the soul to the devine. Started in the 1200's it stands still as one of the finest Romanesque churches in Normandy.

What is left of the learning center that was Jumiege Abbeye

Then there was Jumiege Abbeye - or what remains of it. The abbey's history runs back to the 600's when it was a center of learning and had 1000 monks living and praying within it's walls. It sustained a high profile in the realm of the spirituality and being the model for all other abbeys of the area for many a century. But not everything lasts. It suffered with the invasion of the English. And the war of religion and the Huguenots. Until it was finally burned and sacked during the French revolution. The shell of the monastery still remains for all to see. Still inspiring thoughts of god, despite the derelict nature of it's remnants.

We had the perfect picnic in the forests above the Abbey of St Wandrille. The kids were as pleased as could be, and again the food was sublime. Francoise taught the girls how to whistle using a blade of grass and the boys explored the rich woods. Meanwhile I stuffed myself with the fresh bread and amazing dressing Francois has supplied us with. So like me.

The Abbey of St. Wandrille is a wonderful mixture of ruined Norman Abbey, current monastery and of wooden church. Again started in the 600's the church was sacked and ruined and rebuilt many times over the years. We were very quiet while walking through the grounds as this is still a working monastery with many monks taking a vow of silence.
Going past the ruins of the giant stone monastery that was sacked during the French revolution, you come across two smaller chapels made of wood. This comes from the ancient days when the buildings were put together using only the wood - metal was a precious commodity. In fact one of these buildings was once a royal stable and was dismantled and brought across part of Normandy by the monks to become their new chapel and it is still here today. Pretty clever, I'll say! Lucky for us one of the monks was practicing his organ playing and the entire chapel reverberated with the haunting strains of the organ. Clara took the time to pray and Juliet felt the need to dance. It is humbling to be in the presence of such faith.

inside the all wood chapel of St. Wadrille

On the grounds of the Abbey of St. Wandrille

Ruined Abbey of St. Wandrille

Everything is idyllic, but with all the contentedness I feel I am still searching for what makes Normandy different; a place all its own.
You cannot help but feel the contrast here from the other places we've traveled in, however I can't quite put my finger on it. It's peaceful — in a watchful sort of way. Probably because there has been such strife here. Armies and leaders - coming and going. But the land is still restful despite the blood spilled here. Maybe it's a good testament to the common people. Life goes on, despite the crazy politics of any time...

We end our day in a tiny resort town called Veules-les-Roses, on the French coast facing onto the English channel. It is resort village and as we walk past the ancient water wheels it feels so restful. Many of the buildings are built in the traditional way with thatched roofs. Oh so very, very charming. The kids run ferrel on the grassy hillside and we end up on the stony beach to have a cup of tea before heading back into Rouen.

Thatched roofs in the town of Veules-les-Roses

The whole idyl was marred only slightly by Juliet throwing a stone and very nearly blinding Clara (on accident of course). A bloody towel later Clara's fine, with only a gashed eyebrow to show for Mum and Dad's shattered nerves. Thank goodness we don't have to decamp to the hospital. Ahhh, the joys of traveling with kids.

On the beach of Veules-les-Roses

What a lovely part of the world, with lots and lots of history. It has a very permanent feel to it, but not old fashioned. So much life has happened here that it just seems right that life will always continue here. I'm so glad we had the chance to enjoy it with our lovely host family.

And to enjoy another night in our bird house perch. I can't wait to go to bed so that I can wake up with the birds again!

Bon nuit mes amies!

Bonjour Normandy!

The train rolls into Paris early in the morning. We do the reverse shuffle off the train herding sleepy kids and luggage out of the train station and to the taxi stands. In the infinite wisdom of the railway lines we must disembark our train and change stations to meet up with the train that will take us from Paris to Normandy -the train station is on the opposite side of Paris. So into a taxi van we go.

Rouen Cathedral

The city is still waking up, and it seems like a surreal dream. Finally we are on the regional train from Paris to Rouen - the capital of Normandy - final destination for today.

Why Rouen, we keep getting asked?
Because we have some very dear friends who live there. Forty years ago when Randall and his family were doing one of their year long voyages around the world they met the a French family, who were doing the same thing. And with such likeminded people the family friendship has stayed in place through all the years. So, we have come to reconnect with Francoise and Roland and visit their little slice of French countryside in person.

Always the happy traveler!

They meet us at the station, and all I can think is how much I must SMELL after all the sweaty trains. I mean I am wearing the same clothes from 24 hours ago. I've carried bags out of hotels, into taxis, on and off trains, slept in them and to add insult to injury my toothpaste is buried god knows where. What a way to make a first impression! But our friends don't bat an eyelid and welcome us with open arms and drive us to their house for a light lunch, which turns out to be a delicious feast. Lucky us to be visiting one of the best chefs in Normandy. All the weight I've lost with the illness' on the earlier part of the trip will certainly be rectified in our three day stay.

Afterwards we get dropped off in a beautiful park near the heart of Rouen, while we wait for our B&B to be ready, and do a brief exploration of this fantastic medieval city. To be honest we are far too shellshocked from our train journey to take in most of it. There is so much to see here, a city that is the burial place of Richard the Lionhearted, saw the burning of Joan of Arc and was passed back and forth between the English and French and Dukes of Normandy for hundreds of years. Too tired today to make much of all this history - but we do make it to the fantastic cathedral.

The Rouen Cathedral is truly magnificent. There was a church built on this site from at least the 4th century AD, although the Viking raids of the 9th century (Rouen straddles the Seine river giving them easy access with their long boats) destroyed most of the buildings in the area.
The cathedral that stands here today is a living testament to gothic architecture. It was started in the 12th century and looms over the town like a dark and airy reminder of the power of church and god. It has been added on to over the centuries, but always keeping with the same flavor of grandeur. In fact it was named the tallest building in the world in the 1870's with the addition of the cast iron spire of the lantern tower. It was partially destroyed in the WWII bombings but was lovingly restored by residents of the town and still stands today, not as a reminder of the past - the entire old city of Rouen is a testament of the cities varied past - but of the religious and communal strength of the city.

Inside it is deliciously cool. A welcome reprieve from the sunny heat of the mid afternoon sun. The ceiling is so high above us you can't help but look up, and looking up is good for the soul! The kids and I go on a hunt to find the tomb of Richard the Lionhearted who's heart is buried here amongst the countless other tombs of crusaders, kings and notables. Eventually we find his tomb, no great distinction from the other ones around him, simply a crusader who died after a wound from a cross bow became septic; not a way I'd want to die, but back then it was pretty common. He ruled England, Normandy, Aquitaine (courtesy of his famous mother Eleanor) and various other lands for a mere ten years, but still lives on in legends.

Knights of the Crusades

The kids take a rest, pretending to be knights of the third crusades while I marvel at the huge organs of the cathedral. I would so love to hear these played! Imagine the acoustics in this giant shell of stone. I can only imagine that it would be awe inspiring!



Back outside we finally check in to our little B&B (which is just around the corner from our friends) and are delighted by the surprise find! Le Chambre Avec Vue - an apt name for this delightful gem of a B&B! Despite the fact that we have to climb three flights of creaky wooden stairs we have the entire top floor to ourselves - three bed rooms, two bathrooms and a view over the gardens to the entire old city below. A dream come true!

After a shower (oh yes, a blessed shower!!) we walk back to our friends house for an evening of divine food and laughter and comfort. Bonjour France, what a way to welcome us!

Le Chambre Avec Vue

Our friends have offered to take us on a tour of local Normandy tomorrow. I can't wait to dive into a new place and history. As we walk back through the twilight streets of ancient Normandy a wonderful feeling of peace comes over me. The family is happy, we are surrounded by friends and good food. Love is abundant. Bring on tomorrow, life is good.

Arrivederci Venice, Buon Giorno Florence

Venice to Florence – It’s Liam’s 10^th birthday!

St Mark's Square in the rain

When you sleep in a room that was inhabited by nuns in the 10^th century (and has been in continuous use ever since) there are a few ghost bound to be lurking about. As much as I enjoyed every minute of our stay I had some bizarre dreams; some of which involved me being a nun. Hmmmm.

Liam's still on the Lion Hunt

The day has dawned dark with heavy rain. It’s a good thing that we got our Lion Hunt out of the way yesterday. Now that we are familiar with the city we can explore it in our own fashion. With the America’s Cup finished and the horrible weather upon us it feels like a completely different city. Coming out onto St Marks Square, on our way to the Arsenal, there are a few groups of tourists rushing about under their umbrellas, but no sight of the crowds of yesterday. Ah, Venice; a city with mercurial moods.

Liam has wanted to see the Arsenal ever since he heard about it yesterday from our guide Erika. The Arsenal was Venice’s massive ship building works and it was at the heart of Venice’s success as a merchant navy. Long, long before the industrial age Venice had employed the ideas of the assembly line and standardised parts to create an amazing factory site that employed over 16,000 people. It created both the merchant ships and the navy that created and supported the most serene republic of Venice, and all her vast trading routes. Starting around 1100 AD, it hit it’s peak with Venice in the 13^th and 14^th century when the Arsenal could manufacture a ship a day, and innovating the latest seafaring technology to sustain the might it had over seas. Pretty impressive. Today it is no longer a ship building facility, but home to the Italian navy.

Outside the Porta Magna of the Arsenale

After a few wrong turns we find our way to the Arsenal’s main gate, the Porta Magna, flanked by some impressive Lions. No open book for the beautiful Venetian Lion that stands proudly on top of this gate. No, his book is closed; the ships built here were not for PAX, but for war!

Walking the rainy streets, with the Arsenale wall to our right.

Liam desperately wants to see inside and even gets the courage to go and ask the military guard. But no, it is a military base and no civilians are allowed in. Too bad, it’s a unique insight into the history of Venice. But the walk in the rain is stimulating and the kids enjoy jumping in every puddle they see.

Soon our feet are sore – we’ve tracked quite a few kilometres over the past month – and so we decide to hop on the waterbus and see where it takes us. I want to go to Murano, the island that is so famous for it’s glass works. But alas, I get us onto a waterbus that goes in the wrong direction. Ooops.

St Mark's square from the water

Instead we decide to sit down and take in the views of the city from the water. Which is the medium that Venice is built to impress form. So many churches and palaces! What must the ancient traders - coming from their walled medieval strong holds - have thought of the delicate and ornate opulence of renaissance Venice?

you never know what treasure you will find around the next corner

Without great beauty in their landscape, the Venetians shaped beauty from their own creativity. When you bop along the choppy waters and look around at the man made grandiosity there is a feeling of specialness that over comes you. Mostly I feel humbled by grand vistas from mountaintops or waterfalls or sunsets, but here these innovative people were able to engineer the same feeling; so hats off to them, the Venetians, proud by culture, mind and deeds.

After the water taxi takes us the length of the city we meander back through the town, heading in the general direction of our hotel, but not caring if we take a circular route. The charm of Venice is in getting lost and seeing the random sights along the way. A black cat sitting atop an ancient wall, an old lady closing her shutters against the rain. And of course finding off the beaten track places to try the pizza.

Far too soon it’s time to get our backpacks from the hotel and make our way to the train station. We are all a little sad to be leaving so soon. Randall and I both think this is a city that needs a full two to three days to be in, to be able to fully soak in the culture.

“I am going to live here someday, says Clara!” Of course she’s said that about most of the towns we’ve visited in Italy so far. But then, I wouldn’t put it past her.

the courtyard of our 10th century b&b

We make it to the train station in plenty of time, only to discover that our Eurail passes have been stolen from my backpack. Damn it! A whole lot of shuffling around occurs before we finally just buy tickets and barely make the train. Unfortunately the tickets we get spread the six of us out over four different train cars, not exactly ideal when there are only two adults. Luckily we meet a super nice Mormon family from Utah who take us in and share their seats with us. And over the next few hours between Venice and Florence we chat away like old friends. It’s my favourite thing about travel: meeting strangers and discovering the commonalities that we all share. By the time the train slowly stops I have relaxed somewhat and we are excited about our next destination – Florence.

The birthday boy with his Venetian Lion tie

Off the train we take two cabs to our next hotel, part of an old palace that is just a short walk out of the main touristy part of town. We arrive and discover that we have to walk up 90 stairs to the hotel, and once checked in at the main lounge, we have to walk about 40 stairs down the internal stairwell of the hotel to get to our room. Um, OK. I guess we’ll be fit after our three nights in Florence. At least there is a luggage lift for the first part, and some strong bellboys who manage to get our bags to our room. Crickey Dickens, mate, it was some feat!

It’s a bit later than we had planned, but we are all dressed up in our finest clothes and Randall takes us all out to a fancy dinner to celebrate Liam’s real birthday. He chooses a restaurant that is right on the Arno River, looking across at the old town. The food is superb, the kids in awe of the fancy restaurant and we can all relax that the hassle of European train travel is over, for a few days at least. And we can all discuss the fun of exploring a new city and the culture that comes along with it.

After dinner we treat Liam with as much gelato as he can eat. He orders the most massive cone ever constructed and begins chowing down; completely oblivious to the fact that we are standing on the edge of the Ponte Vecchio, the most famous bridge in Florence, or indeed anything other than the massive cone of sugar and cream in front of him. Some Japanese tourists ask him to pose for them so they can record this monument to Florentine gelato, not sure if they could see his face over the cone but they were very pleased with their photographic find.

Liam's massive gelato!

Amazingly he finishes the whole thing and walks up the 90 stairs with one heck of a bellyache. It’s midnight and we are knackered; straight to be for all of us. It is hard to believe that just this morning we were riding on the canals of Venice and now we are landlocked in the heart of Renaissance Italy – Florence.