Deventer, The Netherlands, 25-28 May 2007

The following week-end, off I was again... to the Netherlands this time, to hook up with Rosi, the lady I shared my tent with in Africa. It just showed that first impressions can be so wrong... because usually I am not comfortable around smokers, but we got on really well. In case you do not know this, 'Holland' is actually a province of the Netherlands, so it wouldn't be correct to label the whole country this way though even the natives seem to do so...

When she emailed me to say I was welcome any time, 3 weeks ago, I emailed her right back to say 'ok, how about the bank holiday?' (not being one to waste any). Done deed. I booked my flight with KLM within minutes. £127 ... not cheap, but the day before departure the fare had gone up to £297... seriously ridiculous when you can fly to NY for less than that... As usual, I left work early and went straight there, easier to use some flexi time than a day off annual leave at the rate I'm travelling!

Amsterdam is only a short hop from LHR, with a mere 40mns in the air, but I wasn't going to Amsterdam, but Deventer, East of the capital, in a straight line almost. I knew I had 20mns to buy my train ticket and board the train so was rather nervous about the flight landing on time, etc. Thankfully we landed 15mns early but I wasted precious time trying to work out the ticket machines and was getting nowhere fast, even with the 'English' option. I was sweating *buckets* and almost in tears as minutes were clicking away and in desperation I asked a cleaner if I could buy a ticket off a "real person" as I could not work out the machines (and my next direct train was an hour later, eeeek). He turned me round, and there it was... SO obvious and with such a BIG desk that I didn't see it first time round... I had walked straight past it.

I made it on the train with 1 minute to spare... then the controller checked my ticket and said that it was the wrong ticket... I had paid to travel after 7pm (a 'week end pass') and it was 6:55pm. My face dropped. The fine would be 35 euros. I told him I purposefully asked an official member of staff to sell me a ticket because I could not work out the machines... he sighed and said 'all right, no worries'... phew. My Dutch friend said it's because I was obviously a foreigner, whereas no one Dutch would get away with it. I'd said it's also because I was close to bursting into tears at this point and men can't handle weepy women very well ! :)

When I got off the train, Rosi was there, waiting... and we hopped on a bus for 5mns to get to hers. In The Netherlands most people do not drive cars, cycling is THE main means of transport. I felt sooo frustrated that I didn't think of hiring a bike well in advance (none available at short notice over a bank holiday week-end) because I love cycling and the country is so flat, it'd be a total breezer. Also, they are SO well equipped here with beautiful wide cycle lanes across town and the countryside. I saw hundreds of people on their bikes, with toddlers on the front and on the back... nothing phases them. Even Rosi would take her lovely dog Max in his basket in the summer (easier on his paws than walk on the hot tarmac). I really felt I missed out on one of life's greatest pleasures...

Rosi's flat was fairly spacious, had a beautiful garden and was overlooking a green area that led to forests and all... perfect location. We walked Max 11-17 kms a day... depending on the weather. He had boundless energy.... and we just tried to keep up ! :) London was dire, with downpour for 3 days, but Deventer was remarkably fine, with dry weather most afternoons.

The city itself is medieval and very very quaint... It was just really like walking back in time, or being on a movie set, it hardly seemed real at times, walking on so many cobbled streets, stepping into churches that were hundreds of years old (some had some junk sales stalls within the church to raise more funds). I just loved it. It has a river run through it, hence the history... with all the port activity and trade. Most houses were painted a soft yellow or pink, most doors were dark green....I did see one traditional mill too (with explanations in English - I don't recall meeting anyone who didn't speak English, amazing).

It was just a neat relaxing break, but no tulips left at this time of the year. There were plenty of other blossoms on trees though and it perfumed the air beautifully.

Rosi's cuisine was great (I saved a fortune not eating out) and Max, her faithful dog, was a treasure. It really made me want to have one! He was *the* best behaved dog I had ever met. Never once barked. During dinner times he knew he was not supposed to beg and would stay put in his basket. But as soon as we got up, he also knew he'd get a piece of left over as a reward and so would dance all the way to the kitchen, standing on his back legs (I had to video that!). Once I fell asleep after a 3 hour walk and just went in a coma for 2 hours... Rosi had prepared dinner in the meantime and Max woke me up gently when it was ready by just licking my hand (that was hanging down from the bed). No barking again. Just an absolutely sweetie. I just know I cannot own a dog till I retire (the poor thing would never see me) but I really felt they are such good company and comfort. And he could understand SO much Dutch. It frustrated me too ! Rosi swears he hasn't got a clue any more than I do, that he goes by tone of voice.... well, I'm not so sure. I think it's a bit of both. If we were at the table and just said 'let's keep this piece of bread for Max' his ear soon popped up as he recognised the sound of his name, no matter what the influx was!

Anyway, I would recommend Deventer to anyone. It's a really pleasant city, almost deserted on the week-ends, with a gorgeous market (with many flowers and fresh fruits) in the main plaza, with hundreds of beautiful walks and packed with history (none of which sank in, though Rosi made a brilliant tour guide). It is a very visual town too, with lots of details on doors, gates, etc. So, I was a happy bunny and took about 100+ photos in just 3 days (it says a lot). Again, no time to buy post cards, mainly because, unlike London, all the shops are closed on a Sunday !

On the Monday I left Rosi at 3pm, hopped back on the bus, got off at the last stop, the station. Waited 30mns for my train, got on the train for 90mns to Amsterdam Schipol Airport (direct)... checked in and then had to wait 1h45 for boarding. Well... I felt hungry so started to sit down for a leisurely dinner...then noted on the board that the 19h05 to London Heathrow was 40mns late. So, I thought, ok, my boarding time of 18:15 must now be 19h10. I took it really easy, ordered another snack... and then a little voice inside my head, at 18H50 said 'just check the board again, to make sure they haven't started boarding'... and then EEEEEK: they had. I did a double take, completely baffled as it still stated '40mns late'.... till I realised that there were TWO flights leaving for London Heathrow at exactly 19h05 and I had been looking at the wrong one, not taking note of the actual flight number. HOW could I do that ??? You'd think I'd never travelled before. DORK. I just never expected *that*... is my feeble excuse. I then had a panic attack when I realised I had not even gone through security and that my gate was '15mns way'.... I thought to myself, 'this can't be real, I am in the Hare and the Tortoise tale'... toooo relaxed because I had arrived too early.

I ran through security but the queues were endless... MORE sweat. Managed to compose myself, check my ticket again and realised my boarding pass just said 'go straight to gate D54'... but as bad luck would have it, D54 was THE furthest away.... I ran and ran and ran and was the last one to board... they closed the door 4mns later. We took off at exactly 19h05... which is usually unheard of. So, it shows that 'that still little voice' inside our head should never ever be ignored ! THANK GOD. I felt my guardian Angel was looking after me... though, if the little voice had popped in 10mns earlier, it would have stopped me running like a lunatic.

Then it was another 1h30 after I landed to get home at about 9:15pm, just over 7 hours after I said bye to Rosi... but looking at trains options, it still would be no quicker. It's like when I go home to Besancon... you are in a no win stituation, whatever you do. I will probably go back again, we had a lovely time. Next time I shall hire a bike though... great exercise... though 17kms hikes aren't bad either! Just more tiring on my feet...

The next adventure will be Borneo, 22 June till 8 July... so, watch this space for tales of orang utans and fantastic snorkelling and diving in Sipidan.... can't wait !!!

The Colours of Sardinia, 16-May 2007

When I booked my trip to Sardinia with my sister and her colleague Roberto (who was born there) I wasn’t sure what to expect… I knew the food would be great (always a plus for a French palate) but feared it might be a bit too barren for someone like me who enjoys thick lush rainforests best.

Indeed, from the air, it did look a bit barren… but the sea colour already looked promising… and we were only 2h10 away from London. Unbelievable.

We took a cab to Roberto’s and had a superb lunch with his family (who were oh so welcoming). My sister has been learning Italian for a few months so she was able to understand them better than I did but I quickly found I could follow 50% of the conversations if I knew the topic as I’d do my mental cross-references with French and Spanish – and there were plenty of similarities.

We spent Wed & Thurs night with Roberto’s best friend, Serenella, who was so hospitable and had coloured her place with wonderful rich yellows which made her home so warm and so … Italian. Great design tastes, we fell in love with her place. She was right in the (old) town centre though we never got to hit the shops (and yet God knows the Italians have got great flair for clothes and produce truly beautiful ones).

Cagliari, the capital, isn’t the prettiest city I’ve seen but had quite a few narrow streets with houses painted with soft colours and most people had flower pots on their balconies (besides the standard washing lines full of underwears!). I noticed that even empty houses had flower pots on their windows (even though the windows may have no glass – seriously quaint or what?).

One of the surprises of Cagliari for me, as a bird lover, was to see they have a big salt lake with flamingos… so, as you’re driving out of town you already have a taste of wildlife and nature. I didn’t even realise we had flamingos in Europe (except maybe in Camargue). I’d only ever seen them in Africa and in the Galapagos (5! They have over 100).

The other nice surprise was that, because we landed on a Wed and started exploring the coast line as of Thursday a.m., the roads were deserted – we had had such a bad time with traffic when in Naples last year, this was bliss. The beaches were empty (beats me!) and looked even better as a result. You could really contrast the white sand vs the dazzling blue of the sea. I am kidding you NOT when I say that some of the colours I saw in Sardinia rivalled the ones I saw in Australia, Thailand or Barbados. Such purity. I didn’t expect that as the French Riviera is a lot duller and greyer (so my sister tells me, I’ve never been myself!). Even the coastline from the mainland of Italy didn’t seem as striking. We would stand on a hill top, look down at all the patterns in the sea and go ‘wow’… My pix are good, but do not reflect reality because I didn’t have a polariser on my digital camera. It was a true case of ‘you have to see it to believe it’… sorry guys.

It being May, it was also pleasantly colourful. Bushes of red leaves all over the coastline added gorgeous splashes of colour among so much green, grey and blue… roads were lined up with bright yellow genets that perfumed the air (we always put the window right down to breathe it in fully), some streets had ‘walls’ of pink, red and white azaleas, and some fields we passed were absolutely covered with tiny yellow flowers, some had poppies, or even purple flowers. I’m not good with flower names in English but Spring was spelt all over in massive carpets of colours. I totally loved it. Even the cactuses were all in bloom (yellow) and the lemon trees too (covered in lemons). Oh, and the bougainvilleas were all over too, fuchsia pink or bright red. Real ‘wow’.

I wanted to buy post cards, but, as usual, couldn’t find any that I liked enough. I felt my pictures would show better what I liked best, instead of using someone else’s (visual) point of view. Most didn’t really show the palm trees for a start and there are quite a few, even in the town centre.

The only downside of May was that the water was positively too cold to swim… well, that’s for us girlies. Roberto, being a true Aquarian and even more of a water baby than I am didn’t even seem to bat an eye lid. Nathalie had goose flesh just putting her feet in and he would go in for 2mns or 20mns. He’d even take his wet suit if need be… but whatever the sea condition (super wavy or calm), he’d never fail to go in. We were impressed! He swims like a dolphin - so fast, I thought to myself ‘if I drown 1 mile away from the beach in Borneo and he can spot me, he’ll be over in 2 minutes flat’… He is bound to find *me* quite slow actually, hum. I thought I was a reasonably good enough swimmer till I saw him in action and realised I was clueless!

The other great news about Sardinia is that it is largely unspoilt (and has no snake at all !). The reason being that back in the 60’s a lot of rich guys or celebrities bought acres and acres of land to go with their villas and so most of the coastline is now privately owned. Hence, when the hotel chains woke up to the fact that Sardinia had such potential as a “scenic” destination, it was too late – there was nothing left to buy.

In Corsica (the island just above), they went for a different tactic to preserve the wilderness aspect of their island: every time a hotel was being built, they’d bomb the place down. After a while, hotel chains got the message that it would be pointless to carry on.

Besides the obvious beauty of the coastline (and you can admire it all just by driving along the main roads that follow it – as stunning as the famous highway in California I’d say) they also have great national parks for hiking. We were surprised at how green they were… the colours do fade over the summer Roberto said, but in Spring, it was still really nice. We did a fairly strenuous walk (again, what was ‘strenuous’ for me was a piece of cake for Roberto, who did it, going up in 1H when I needed 2 to complete it… hum). I started to pray he doesn’t regret going to Borneo with me… I fear his energy level will be 10 times higher than mine. Oops. We may not be such compatible travellers after all… though we both adore nature.

Some villages are truly traditional, high up on the hill side, with widows dressed all in black for 5 years and not really ‘allowed’ to get married (it’d be frown upon)… whereas, of course, the widowers are ‘expected’ to get re-married as their needs are greatest…. Same old, same old.

Anyway, as I said at the beginning, if you are in Europe, I’d recommend it for a long week-end at least. The food is to die for, and really cheap (half what you’d pay in England). You have to try real Italian pizzas and forget Pizza Express or Pizza Hut. You have to try salads with just pure virgin oil… and their hot chocolates that are like hot chocolate mousse instead of chocolate powder in a hot milk glass. Vine, I’m told, is superb, needless to say… and seafood is first class if you like it. Even the fish Roberto’s mother served us was just cooked with lemon and garlic but the flesh was just delicious and seemed to have a flagrance of its own. As anyone with a sweet tooth would be in heaven with their cakes and ice creams… Most of their croissants are filled with some beautifully flavoured custard… they also have some delicious amaretto cakes (loaded with calories no doubt but impossible to resist as they were like soft biscuits)… As for ice creams… Italy and ice-creams go hand-in-hand as they do have a reputation for producing the finest ice creams in the world and rightly so! I had found the ones on the mainland too sweet for my taste, but the ones in Sardinia are just perfect. Totally natural flavours and so many to choose from… all equally yummy. We had 2 ice creams per day because there were SO many tempting ones to try out… Eating out is one of Italians’ greatest pleasures and people still allow 2 hours for lunch to make sure they savour and enjoy their food instead of rushing it.

What more can I say? Easy Jet will take you there direct from London Luton for £50 return, you can’t go wrong. Some of the hotels, b&b, pensions or whatever you want to call it are amazing value for money off season. We paid 20 euros / dollars each for a whole apartment (1 double bedroom, twin room, full working kitchen and nice neat bathroom, with terrace and fantastic panaromic view). That’s about £12 equivalent per person per night, and Nathalie & I had an apartment, and Roberto and Serenella shared the one next door. In London £12 would just about buy you a bed in a dorm. Doesn’t compare…

Serenella kept bumping into friends and neighbours wherever we went and did say that it was one of the downsides of being a local here – you can’t have much privacy or many secrets. Everybody seems to know everybody. I guess you can’t have it all…. But for someone over on a short visit, it almost feels like it ! :)