Aeroplane ashtrays - come one - come all!
James has mounted a display of his famous aeroplane ashtrays for ANZAC Day at the Prahran Mechanics Institute. It's only part of his collection but I am taking the opportunity to dust a few shelves in their absence.
Maybe they'll ask him to do a model boat display next. That would be great.
Get on down to High Street and have a look
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Camels and Cake
On Saturday we headed up to Andrea’s country estate in Shepparton to celebrate the first birthday of Great Niece Isobel. It was a gorgeous sunny day: perfect for a tres elegante garden party and a very fine time was had by all.
Only scarey thing was the ride on a camel which I undertook with Black and Auntie Buggers. They were terrified too but just stuck with cussin’ and cursin’ under their breaths while I let my feelings be known.
On the FCS (Fraidy Cat Scale) camel riding scores higher than even the water slide at MSAC, the Glen Iris level crossing or Sister Rosaria from primary school. I spent 3 gruesome years with Sr Rosaria, about the same waiting for the gates to open at Glen Iris and 3 X 3-minute heart-stopping goes down the waterslide. But camel rides take an eternity when you are in constant danger of slipping off because your skirt is too snug to allow your legs to reach the stirrups and the handler delights in your discomfort.
Arpa and I were able to take a quick refresher in baby-handling though. There’s only a couple more weeks to wait for Baby Beamish – very exciting!
On Saturday we headed up to Andrea’s country estate in Shepparton to celebrate the first birthday of Great Niece Isobel. It was a gorgeous sunny day: perfect for a tres elegante garden party and a very fine time was had by all.
Only scarey thing was the ride on a camel which I undertook with Black and Auntie Buggers. They were terrified too but just stuck with cussin’ and cursin’ under their breaths while I let my feelings be known.
On the FCS (Fraidy Cat Scale) camel riding scores higher than even the water slide at MSAC, the Glen Iris level crossing or Sister Rosaria from primary school. I spent 3 gruesome years with Sr Rosaria, about the same waiting for the gates to open at Glen Iris and 3 X 3-minute heart-stopping goes down the waterslide. But camel rides take an eternity when you are in constant danger of slipping off because your skirt is too snug to allow your legs to reach the stirrups and the handler delights in your discomfort.
Arpa and I were able to take a quick refresher in baby-handling though. There’s only a couple more weeks to wait for Baby Beamish – very exciting!
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Chocolate Shall be Your Salvation
Good Friday is not a good idea. It’s boring, depressing and melancholy-making. We distracted ourselves by packing a lot in: the pool, Luna Park (tawdry but open), a beach walk and finally Catherine Deveney at the Comedy Festival.
More Comedy Festival on Sunday (Pete ‘n’ Dud – Shaun Micallef), two trips to Anglesea to get some mileage out of the wetsuit I bought during our GP escape, a visit to the recently completed volcano (took 130 years) in the Botanic Gardens and that was Easter.
Except, of course, for the chocolate. The Bunny brought Right Foot chocolate-coated ginger and dark chocolate with almonds and me a delicious selection from Chocolateria San Churrio sporting the strapline “Chocolate Shall Be Your Salvation”. I couldn’t put it better myself. Seasonally appropriate too.
Good Friday is not a good idea. It’s boring, depressing and melancholy-making. We distracted ourselves by packing a lot in: the pool, Luna Park (tawdry but open), a beach walk and finally Catherine Deveney at the Comedy Festival.
More Comedy Festival on Sunday (Pete ‘n’ Dud – Shaun Micallef), two trips to Anglesea to get some mileage out of the wetsuit I bought during our GP escape, a visit to the recently completed volcano (took 130 years) in the Botanic Gardens and that was Easter.
Except, of course, for the chocolate. The Bunny brought Right Foot chocolate-coated ginger and dark chocolate with almonds and me a delicious selection from Chocolateria San Churrio sporting the strapline “Chocolate Shall Be Your Salvation”. I couldn’t put it better myself. Seasonally appropriate too.
Thursday, April 01, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Return of the Mummy(care)
Mothercare opened its first Australian store in Chadstone on Friday. http://www.mothercare.com.au/
I went there on Saturday and if I’d known the sex of the unborn ‘Celly’, would have had a bit of a spend-up. Most of the clothes were very gender specific.
It was nice to talk to the staff in English. The last two Mothercares I was in were in Poland and the Czech Republic. Lots of miming and pointing but even more being ignored or avoided.
When Mere and Hil were kids our Mothercare shopping was via the eagerly awaited catalogue which arrived every season. We had enormous pleasure selecting stuff, much of which we could have found suitable substitutes for in Adelaide. But this was English baby lotion! European bibs (or feeders). Stylish, sophisticated nappy pins. So cool. Yes, it’s true. I really did import safety pins from the other side of the world.
We’d wait three months for the parcel to be shipped. Sometimes it would be opened by Customs and I’d have to pay duty. Other times our contraband simply arrived unscathed and unsniffed. Bonus!
At first the products were only for under five-year-olds but just as Mere was nearing her fifth birthday the catalogue arrived with “And now for children up to ten” emblazoned across its cover. Praise the Lord! Hil was only eighteen months old so another eight and a half glorious years of Mothercaring lay ahead.
But I do not remember ordering anything after we were banished to the Latrobe Valley. Who cared what you wore in that god-forsaken hellhole? Better not to look too swish anyway.
But now I have a new catalogue, picked up in store. It’s been thirty years but I’m back.
Mothercare opened its first Australian store in Chadstone on Friday. http://www.mothercare.com.au/
I went there on Saturday and if I’d known the sex of the unborn ‘Celly’, would have had a bit of a spend-up. Most of the clothes were very gender specific.
It was nice to talk to the staff in English. The last two Mothercares I was in were in Poland and the Czech Republic. Lots of miming and pointing but even more being ignored or avoided.
When Mere and Hil were kids our Mothercare shopping was via the eagerly awaited catalogue which arrived every season. We had enormous pleasure selecting stuff, much of which we could have found suitable substitutes for in Adelaide. But this was English baby lotion! European bibs (or feeders). Stylish, sophisticated nappy pins. So cool. Yes, it’s true. I really did import safety pins from the other side of the world.
We’d wait three months for the parcel to be shipped. Sometimes it would be opened by Customs and I’d have to pay duty. Other times our contraband simply arrived unscathed and unsniffed. Bonus!
At first the products were only for under five-year-olds but just as Mere was nearing her fifth birthday the catalogue arrived with “And now for children up to ten” emblazoned across its cover. Praise the Lord! Hil was only eighteen months old so another eight and a half glorious years of Mothercaring lay ahead.
But I do not remember ordering anything after we were banished to the Latrobe Valley. Who cared what you wore in that god-forsaken hellhole? Better not to look too swish anyway.
But now I have a new catalogue, picked up in store. It’s been thirty years but I’m back.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Dancing: the vertical expression of a horizontal desire legalized by music
(George Bernard Shaw)
For my birthday last November Right Foot bought me dancing lessons – AND agreed to go too. First, five private and then ten group lessons. On Wednesday evening we took the first two of the group classes. There was both less and more pressure: less because we weren’t the only ones being scrutinised by the instructor but more because it’s one thing to stand on the toes of your nearest and dearest and another to stand on a stranger’s. We lumbered through the Marengo, the Salsa, the Tango and the Quickstep.
The real hurdle was the degree of physical contact with unknown men that many Latin and even Ballroom dances involve. I am so accustomed to the dimensions of my usual partner that the others felt all wrong. I am used to dancing with my arms above my head as if I were the victim of a stick-up, with a partner double my weight whom I can clutch like ballast. These other puny weeds were too short, slight and insubstantial. There didn’t seem to be enough man to grab hold of. Their skin was too fair and had a different smell. Wednesday night was warm and there were naked bits of unfamiliar male flesh I hesitated to touch. I wondered why – too fastidious? Too loyal? Too shy? Just out of practice?
In the second class I was the only woman who had a partner with her. I guarded him zealously.
(George Bernard Shaw)
For my birthday last November Right Foot bought me dancing lessons – AND agreed to go too. First, five private and then ten group lessons. On Wednesday evening we took the first two of the group classes. There was both less and more pressure: less because we weren’t the only ones being scrutinised by the instructor but more because it’s one thing to stand on the toes of your nearest and dearest and another to stand on a stranger’s. We lumbered through the Marengo, the Salsa, the Tango and the Quickstep.
The real hurdle was the degree of physical contact with unknown men that many Latin and even Ballroom dances involve. I am so accustomed to the dimensions of my usual partner that the others felt all wrong. I am used to dancing with my arms above my head as if I were the victim of a stick-up, with a partner double my weight whom I can clutch like ballast. These other puny weeds were too short, slight and insubstantial. There didn’t seem to be enough man to grab hold of. Their skin was too fair and had a different smell. Wednesday night was warm and there were naked bits of unfamiliar male flesh I hesitated to touch. I wondered why – too fastidious? Too loyal? Too shy? Just out of practice?
In the second class I was the only woman who had a partner with her. I guarded him zealously.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Ruby Saturday
On Saturday 16th we celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary. Having just arrived back in the country we decided on a low key, crayfish dinner for 2 rather than a knees-up for everyone we’ve ever met.
I am now proudly wearing a ruby on a rose-gold band. Beautiful. And James has a posh bottle of ruby port.
We have also harvested our first tomato. I got to eat it.
On Saturday 16th we celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary. Having just arrived back in the country we decided on a low key, crayfish dinner for 2 rather than a knees-up for everyone we’ve ever met.
I am now proudly wearing a ruby on a rose-gold band. Beautiful. And James has a posh bottle of ruby port.
We have also harvested our first tomato. I got to eat it.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
January 12th - Auf wiedersein
9.00 a.m.
Tonight at 10.10 (8.10 a.m. Wednesday in Melbourne)we are scheduled to fly home to a city where the temperature has been more than 50 degrees warmer than what I've become accustomed to.
Today they will have launched the new system at work. I wonder how it went.
There are a few things I'm looking forward to:
Seeing Hil, Rob and "Celly"
Not having to wear 78 items of clothing whenever I leave the house
Flat white
Celebrating our 40th anniversary
Catching up with some cricket
De Bortoli chardonnay
The Saturday Age
The Sunday Age
The gals at work (and AL of course - gotta say that)
Regaining the power of speech
My daily games of Alchemy and Word Mojo Gold
I'm going to start implementing my New Year's Resolutions too. No more unachievable, high flown stuff but something practical, i.e. memorising my mobile phone number and labelling all the mysterious dollops in the freezer. That should be do-able.
What I'll miss:
The Triple Ms - Mere, Matt 'n Mads
The cheese
The bakeries
Being so close to other European cities
Efficient transport system
The Kulture
Just knowing I am in Europe
The excitement of travelling
New experiences
2.10 p.m.
Just back from a farewell lunch with Mere at Textorbar. I had a chardonnay, a real one with body, flavour and discernible alcoholic content, not a wussy Euro one and it's gone to my head. I have to rest up.
Das es alles. Tchuss!
9.00 a.m.
Tonight at 10.10 (8.10 a.m. Wednesday in Melbourne)we are scheduled to fly home to a city where the temperature has been more than 50 degrees warmer than what I've become accustomed to.
Today they will have launched the new system at work. I wonder how it went.
There are a few things I'm looking forward to:
Seeing Hil, Rob and "Celly"
Not having to wear 78 items of clothing whenever I leave the house
Flat white
Celebrating our 40th anniversary
Catching up with some cricket
De Bortoli chardonnay
The Saturday Age
The Sunday Age
The gals at work (and AL of course - gotta say that)
Regaining the power of speech
My daily games of Alchemy and Word Mojo Gold
I'm going to start implementing my New Year's Resolutions too. No more unachievable, high flown stuff but something practical, i.e. memorising my mobile phone number and labelling all the mysterious dollops in the freezer. That should be do-able.
What I'll miss:
The Triple Ms - Mere, Matt 'n Mads
The cheese
The bakeries
Being so close to other European cities
Efficient transport system
The Kulture
Just knowing I am in Europe
The excitement of travelling
New experiences
2.10 p.m.
Just back from a farewell lunch with Mere at Textorbar. I had a chardonnay, a real one with body, flavour and discernible alcoholic content, not a wussy Euro one and it's gone to my head. I have to rest up.
Das es alles. Tchuss!
Limburg January 11
For our 6th and final trip out of Frankfurt we decided to go to Limburg. Surprisingly, it has nothing to do with Limburger cheese but instead has a beautiful Romanesque cathedral and an intact medieval town. I got some good photos of the old cemetery in the snow.
We had a tasty lunch though it was not at all what I'd deduced from my reading of the menu. After 5 weeks of living here I clearly haven't mastered a lot of Deutsch.
For our 6th and final trip out of Frankfurt we decided to go to Limburg. Surprisingly, it has nothing to do with Limburger cheese but instead has a beautiful Romanesque cathedral and an intact medieval town. I got some good photos of the old cemetery in the snow.
We had a tasty lunch though it was not at all what I'd deduced from my reading of the menu. After 5 weeks of living here I clearly haven't mastered a lot of Deutsch.
Sunday January 10
If the film, "On the beach" had been made in Frankfurt and Ava Gardner had never gone to Melbourne it would have been spared decades of cultural cringe. If she thought Melbourne in the fifties was the end of the world she should see Frankfurt on a Sunday. It is closed. Everything is closed except the bakeries (and thank God for them and their delicious cakes and bread) and the ever-present trinkalles (small streetside kiosks where you can buy a short snort at any time of night or day). People are wandering the streets, forlornly looking into shop windows and wondering what to do next to get out of the cold. What a wasted marketing opportunity!
Tonight it was our turn to return the hospitality and Matt cooked his signature dish - tacos, and Mere made an excellent apple crumble. We dragged in a table from outside and thawed it out to accommodate the extra numbers. Their friends are so interesting to talk to and it was a terrific night.
If the film, "On the beach" had been made in Frankfurt and Ava Gardner had never gone to Melbourne it would have been spared decades of cultural cringe. If she thought Melbourne in the fifties was the end of the world she should see Frankfurt on a Sunday. It is closed. Everything is closed except the bakeries (and thank God for them and their delicious cakes and bread) and the ever-present trinkalles (small streetside kiosks where you can buy a short snort at any time of night or day). People are wandering the streets, forlornly looking into shop windows and wondering what to do next to get out of the cold. What a wasted marketing opportunity!
Tonight it was our turn to return the hospitality and Matt cooked his signature dish - tacos, and Mere made an excellent apple crumble. We dragged in a table from outside and thawed it out to accommodate the extra numbers. Their friends are so interesting to talk to and it was a terrific night.
Saturday, January 09, 2010
Saturday January 9 Snee, snee, snee
It has snowed all night and and there's a thick white carpet right up to the front door. A snowman is planned. I'm not sure how prominent my involvement in that will be: I may just dash out for the photo opportunity when the hard work is done...
...Many hours later... Nothing as easy as a snowman - I did not get off that lightly. Oh no, I worked for my raclette today. Mere's friends took us tobogganing. It was freezing, not "I'm about to die" cold like the time in Offenberg but cold enough to make my toes curl under into a ball which is a sure sign the brain has sent out a message, "OK, disaster is looming: send the blood supply to the vital organs only, heart and lungs, cognitive processes, kidney functions (oh boy, how they function!) forget the extremities, the old girl can survive without feet and hands."
It was only one degree warmer than the North Pole and almost as cold as my office at work but it was worth it for the fabulous meal. Such hospitality! In order to stave of imminent death Caro provided hot chocolate liberally laced with rum. It worked and I am here to tell the tale.
It has snowed all night and and there's a thick white carpet right up to the front door. A snowman is planned. I'm not sure how prominent my involvement in that will be: I may just dash out for the photo opportunity when the hard work is done...
...Many hours later... Nothing as easy as a snowman - I did not get off that lightly. Oh no, I worked for my raclette today. Mere's friends took us tobogganing. It was freezing, not "I'm about to die" cold like the time in Offenberg but cold enough to make my toes curl under into a ball which is a sure sign the brain has sent out a message, "OK, disaster is looming: send the blood supply to the vital organs only, heart and lungs, cognitive processes, kidney functions (oh boy, how they function!) forget the extremities, the old girl can survive without feet and hands."
It was only one degree warmer than the North Pole and almost as cold as my office at work but it was worth it for the fabulous meal. Such hospitality! In order to stave of imminent death Caro provided hot chocolate liberally laced with rum. It worked and I am here to tell the tale.
January 8 - Depot 1899 - ho, ho, ho and a bottle of wine
Across the road from Mere and Matt's is a restaurant converted from an old tram depot. We'd been watching people coming and going for the last month and wanted to try it. On the outside it was described as a wirtshaus which suggested a footy franks kind of place to us but it turned out to be much posher. Our arrival with a lively four-year old who was dressed as a pirate complete with eye patch and alfoil sword (but, alas, no parrot) unnnerved the staff.
"You are English", said the waiter, reluctantly placing the Riedel wine glasses down in front of us, "Please be careful".
"Oh no", we assured him, "It's worse than that, we are Australian!"
Matt ordered something from the specials menu. "That menu is not available for another 10 minutes" (We were dining at 4-year-old hours).
The meals arrived in less than 5 minutes - the presence of 5 Australians, one under the age of reason, had obviously spurred the chef on to his personal best. By this time Mads had her sketch book out and the table was strewn with pictures of pirate ships.
"Pay attention", said the waiter and muttered something about the plates being hot. (They weren't so I think he just wanted us to pay attention in a general kind of way).
The food was excellent and the wine the best I've had since I got here. Nobody spilt or broke anything but when the waiter cleared the table he dropped a knife. We smirked in delight as it clattered to the floor.
And it didn't matter about the footy franks. We'd had one at lunch time anyway.
Across the road from Mere and Matt's is a restaurant converted from an old tram depot. We'd been watching people coming and going for the last month and wanted to try it. On the outside it was described as a wirtshaus which suggested a footy franks kind of place to us but it turned out to be much posher. Our arrival with a lively four-year old who was dressed as a pirate complete with eye patch and alfoil sword (but, alas, no parrot) unnnerved the staff.
"You are English", said the waiter, reluctantly placing the Riedel wine glasses down in front of us, "Please be careful".
"Oh no", we assured him, "It's worse than that, we are Australian!"
Matt ordered something from the specials menu. "That menu is not available for another 10 minutes" (We were dining at 4-year-old hours).
The meals arrived in less than 5 minutes - the presence of 5 Australians, one under the age of reason, had obviously spurred the chef on to his personal best. By this time Mads had her sketch book out and the table was strewn with pictures of pirate ships.
"Pay attention", said the waiter and muttered something about the plates being hot. (They weren't so I think he just wanted us to pay attention in a general kind of way).
The food was excellent and the wine the best I've had since I got here. Nobody spilt or broke anything but when the waiter cleared the table he dropped a knife. We smirked in delight as it clattered to the floor.
And it didn't matter about the footy franks. We'd had one at lunch time anyway.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Holiday Reading
When Nancy suggested buying a copy of 'The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society' for the library, I said,"Nah. That'll be corny and cringe-making". I hope Nancy ignored me. Meredith has a copy and I'm almost through it. Last night I woke up screaming and abusing the Germans. I knew nothing about the German occupation of the Channel Islands before and some gruesome stuff happens in the book. (Although it IS a bit twee and self consciously witty). Mere says it gave her a nightmare too.
And all this while I am receiving so much help and hospitality from German people. We have another raclette dinner on Saturday. Raclette is a New Year tradition and a very good one.
I haven't had a Frankfurt yet but my resistance is weakening
We went to the local Art Gallery today where they are showing a Botticelli exhibition with queues around the corner a la the recent Dali exhibition in Melbourne. We'd just seen the major Botticellis in Florence but lined up anyway. It was very interesting: mostly minor works but some of his very late pictures which were new to us and what better way is there to keep out of the cold?
When Nancy suggested buying a copy of 'The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society' for the library, I said,"Nah. That'll be corny and cringe-making". I hope Nancy ignored me. Meredith has a copy and I'm almost through it. Last night I woke up screaming and abusing the Germans. I knew nothing about the German occupation of the Channel Islands before and some gruesome stuff happens in the book. (Although it IS a bit twee and self consciously witty). Mere says it gave her a nightmare too.
And all this while I am receiving so much help and hospitality from German people. We have another raclette dinner on Saturday. Raclette is a New Year tradition and a very good one.
I haven't had a Frankfurt yet but my resistance is weakening
We went to the local Art Gallery today where they are showing a Botticelli exhibition with queues around the corner a la the recent Dali exhibition in Melbourne. We'd just seen the major Botticellis in Florence but lined up anyway. It was very interesting: mostly minor works but some of his very late pictures which were new to us and what better way is there to keep out of the cold?
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
Florence Day 5 - Michelangelo's David
We were up early and at the Galleria d'Academia when it opened at 8:15. I looked at everything, resisting the urge to fly through the first galleries to get to Big Dave like people do in Melbourne Museum in quest of Pharlap.
In the afternoon we went to the Pitti Palace which was the first disappointing place I'd seen in Florence. The Medici had collected indiscriminantly, favouring quantity over quality and there were hundreds of paintings, good, bad and so-so in every room - overwhelming. The rain meant we couldn't go into the Boboli Gardens which was disappointing.
A few final purchases were made and then it was off to the airport and back 'home' to Frankfurt.
The next day I wanted a quiet domestic day while I processed the wonders of Florence. I made a cake for the first time in decades, a cheesecake as close as possible to the Margaret Fulton recipe which was a family favourite.
We were up early and at the Galleria d'Academia when it opened at 8:15. I looked at everything, resisting the urge to fly through the first galleries to get to Big Dave like people do in Melbourne Museum in quest of Pharlap.
In the afternoon we went to the Pitti Palace which was the first disappointing place I'd seen in Florence. The Medici had collected indiscriminantly, favouring quantity over quality and there were hundreds of paintings, good, bad and so-so in every room - overwhelming. The rain meant we couldn't go into the Boboli Gardens which was disappointing.
A few final purchases were made and then it was off to the airport and back 'home' to Frankfurt.
The next day I wanted a quiet domestic day while I processed the wonders of Florence. I made a cake for the first time in decades, a cheesecake as close as possible to the Margaret Fulton recipe which was a family favourite.
Florence day 4 - January 4
The MMMs left early for the airport and Jim and I set off for another day of seeing marvels. After a while you find yourself merely glancing at yet another Donnatello as you stroll past. I try to retain as much as I can, knowing my sister (known in the family as Auntie Buggers)will examine we intensively on my reaction to Florence.
Lighting the candle in Cologne had bought such spectacular success in conjuring up an English speaking playmate for Mads, we decided to give it another go in the duomo. We both lit one and put them side by side on the candle rack. Good things will surely follow.
We spent a long time in the duomo museum where most of its treasures are now housed. Magnificent.
It rained most of the day and the sellers of knock-off designer handbags instantly transformed themselves into 'ombrello' merchants.
The MMMs left early for the airport and Jim and I set off for another day of seeing marvels. After a while you find yourself merely glancing at yet another Donnatello as you stroll past. I try to retain as much as I can, knowing my sister (known in the family as Auntie Buggers)will examine we intensively on my reaction to Florence.
Lighting the candle in Cologne had bought such spectacular success in conjuring up an English speaking playmate for Mads, we decided to give it another go in the duomo. We both lit one and put them side by side on the candle rack. Good things will surely follow.
We spent a long time in the duomo museum where most of its treasures are now housed. Magnificent.
It rained most of the day and the sellers of knock-off designer handbags instantly transformed themselves into 'ombrello' merchants.
Jan 3 - The Uffizi
We arrived bright and early at the Uffizi where we sauntered smugly past the long queue, brandishing our pre-booked tickets.
Four hours and hundreds of masterpieces later we staggered out exhausted. We saw roooms full of Botticellis, Carravagios, several Leonardos and Michelangelos. Famous paintings familiar from art history books materialised in front of us. Included was 'The birth of Venus' which I once heard a tourist describe as 'Venus on the half-shell'. I'm not sure what sauce you'd serve with that.
An afternoon of exploring, getting lost and discovering treasures followed.
We had a last dinner with the Triple Ms: they are going back to Frankfurt in the morning.
We arrived bright and early at the Uffizi where we sauntered smugly past the long queue, brandishing our pre-booked tickets.
Four hours and hundreds of masterpieces later we staggered out exhausted. We saw roooms full of Botticellis, Carravagios, several Leonardos and Michelangelos. Famous paintings familiar from art history books materialised in front of us. Included was 'The birth of Venus' which I once heard a tourist describe as 'Venus on the half-shell'. I'm not sure what sauce you'd serve with that.
An afternoon of exploring, getting lost and discovering treasures followed.
We had a last dinner with the Triple Ms: they are going back to Frankfurt in the morning.
Florence for Four-Year Olds - January 2
We spent the morning sucking up some major cultural experiences in churches, museums, on the street, everywhere.
Florence is awash with riches, historic and artistic and I was in a headspin trying to absorb it all.
Florence is not a particularly child-friendly place though and by afternoon Mads was in need of the company of someone born in the same millenium as herself. It wasn't easy but we managed to find a park where Madeleine met an English-speaking 5 year-old girl who she really clicked with. They played happily for hours.
We attribute this miracle to the candle we lit for Mads in the cathedral at Cologne. Stand by for a deathbed conversion.
We spent the morning sucking up some major cultural experiences in churches, museums, on the street, everywhere.
Florence is awash with riches, historic and artistic and I was in a headspin trying to absorb it all.
Florence is not a particularly child-friendly place though and by afternoon Mads was in need of the company of someone born in the same millenium as herself. It wasn't easy but we managed to find a park where Madeleine met an English-speaking 5 year-old girl who she really clicked with. They played happily for hours.
We attribute this miracle to the candle we lit for Mads in the cathedral at Cologne. Stand by for a deathbed conversion.
New Year's Day
We hauled our seedy selves out of bed and trained to the airport. As usual, Jim's Swiss Army knife caused him to be pulled out of the queue. I think I'd better confiscate it myself.
The supposedly 4 star accommodation in Florence was in a great location, the staff were fantastic and the breakfast turned out to be much better than is usual in Italy. But the rooms were dark, drab and depressing. Not to worry, we were out of there pronto and within 10 minutes I was into my first gelati and within half an hour I was in the duomo
The temperature was 12 degrees - 10 warmer than Frankfurt.
We found we could readily rehash the bit of Italian we'd picked up 2 years ago. We were in Italy! - something not anticipated when we left Melbourne 3 weeks ago.
Unlike the Germans the Italians blissfully disregard any rules that don't suit them, such as not taking photos in museums and galleries. The railing around the statue of Cellini at the Pont de Vecchio has dozens of love tokens saying 'Carlo e Rosa' and Guila e Guiseppe' padlocked to it, immediately above a sign saying that this is prohibited.
We hauled our seedy selves out of bed and trained to the airport. As usual, Jim's Swiss Army knife caused him to be pulled out of the queue. I think I'd better confiscate it myself.
The supposedly 4 star accommodation in Florence was in a great location, the staff were fantastic and the breakfast turned out to be much better than is usual in Italy. But the rooms were dark, drab and depressing. Not to worry, we were out of there pronto and within 10 minutes I was into my first gelati and within half an hour I was in the duomo
The temperature was 12 degrees - 10 warmer than Frankfurt.
We found we could readily rehash the bit of Italian we'd picked up 2 years ago. We were in Italy! - something not anticipated when we left Melbourne 3 weeks ago.
Unlike the Germans the Italians blissfully disregard any rules that don't suit them, such as not taking photos in museums and galleries. The railing around the statue of Cellini at the Pont de Vecchio has dozens of love tokens saying 'Carlo e Rosa' and Guila e Guiseppe' padlocked to it, immediately above a sign saying that this is prohibited.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
31 Dezember 2009
In March 1944 eighty percent of Frankfurt was destroyed by allied bombs. The historical area of Sachenhaus where Mere lives has many of the old buildings interspersed with new dwellings where previous ones were hit. Other parts of Frankfurt are entirely post-war. This morning we explored the new area, the skyscrapers (apparently unique in Germany), the opera house and the up-market shops.
As happened over Christmas Germany is now closed for 3 and a half days.
We went to a most enjoyable New Years's Eve dinner party at an Aussie/German couple's home. Great company, lively conversation and wonderful food. One traditional dish was raclette cooked in individual coupelles. We also had fondue, baked apple and too much wine.
Fireworks are sold freely everywhere and we've been hearing explosions for several days. At midnight, a couple of dozen people gathered in the square and randomly set off crackers in an uncharacteristically random way. In was dangerous, fantastic and somehow unGerman. A man called Jorge offered me a glass of champagne and a beanie. I accepted both and we partied on.
Off to Florence tomorrow. Tschuus!
In March 1944 eighty percent of Frankfurt was destroyed by allied bombs. The historical area of Sachenhaus where Mere lives has many of the old buildings interspersed with new dwellings where previous ones were hit. Other parts of Frankfurt are entirely post-war. This morning we explored the new area, the skyscrapers (apparently unique in Germany), the opera house and the up-market shops.
As happened over Christmas Germany is now closed for 3 and a half days.
We went to a most enjoyable New Years's Eve dinner party at an Aussie/German couple's home. Great company, lively conversation and wonderful food. One traditional dish was raclette cooked in individual coupelles. We also had fondue, baked apple and too much wine.
Fireworks are sold freely everywhere and we've been hearing explosions for several days. At midnight, a couple of dozen people gathered in the square and randomly set off crackers in an uncharacteristically random way. In was dangerous, fantastic and somehow unGerman. A man called Jorge offered me a glass of champagne and a beanie. I accepted both and we partied on.
Off to Florence tomorrow. Tschuus!
Wednesday 30th Dezember
This morning we went to the local, very new swimming pool. Its design is a cross between an old fashioned spa and a modern Olympic pool. You move through a series of doors into your own tiny change room before being ejected out the other side into the water.
The swimmers were very sedate: every single one breaststroking languidly, stoically, grimly along. No-one's hair got wet except at the edges, no showing off jocks powered past, there was no lane range aimed at slow swimmers.
The key to your room came with a bracelet to wear while you swam - no need to hide it in your towel or stick it in your togs. They had thought of everything.
The showers were 'all in together girls, never mind the weather girls' (just don't check me out quite so obviously, OK?). The Germans don't seem to be worried about privacy or modesty. Meredith tells me that the famous Frankfurt kitchen sometimes included a toilet.
Tomorrow is New Year's Eve and we are invited to a party. On New Year's Day we fly to Florence for 5 days where temperatures are expected to reach a balmy 11 degrees. Tropical.
This morning we went to the local, very new swimming pool. Its design is a cross between an old fashioned spa and a modern Olympic pool. You move through a series of doors into your own tiny change room before being ejected out the other side into the water.
The swimmers were very sedate: every single one breaststroking languidly, stoically, grimly along. No-one's hair got wet except at the edges, no showing off jocks powered past, there was no lane range aimed at slow swimmers.
The key to your room came with a bracelet to wear while you swam - no need to hide it in your towel or stick it in your togs. They had thought of everything.
The showers were 'all in together girls, never mind the weather girls' (just don't check me out quite so obviously, OK?). The Germans don't seem to be worried about privacy or modesty. Meredith tells me that the famous Frankfurt kitchen sometimes included a toilet.
Tomorrow is New Year's Eve and we are invited to a party. On New Year's Day we fly to Florence for 5 days where temperatures are expected to reach a balmy 11 degrees. Tropical.
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