A Trip Down the Garden Path

Hi all,
Well we're back from our long weekend in Belgium.We've unpacked, and I'm enjoying a nice glass of wine and some chocolate (my favourite in the whole world, white chocolate with hazelnuts - the sort you can only get in France; Cadbury's eat your heart out). I need to get into that jogging again this week...




Anyway, lots to tell certainly. Brugge was such a pretty place, have a look.

  Glen was talking to a 'local' (mate at work), who was saying he goes over to Europe for a day or two to get cigarettes really cheap in Belgium.  Now, being a pack-a-day kind of guy (maybe a 6 pack of Sprite cans that is - ha), Glen thought we could do this too. It turns out, for a 36 hour turn around trip, it's a mere £12.50 each way (that's car and a max. 5 passengers (approx. $20.00 AUD each way - same price as a ferry ticket for one person to Maggie Island I'd say - Crikey! Anyone keen to fill up our car?).  Well we think we'll certainly make a bit of use of this sort of thing. So over we go.  The ferry terminal is not all that exciting, lots of metal and heaps of trucks transporting their goods across channel, have a look for yourself:


So from the white cliffs of Dover to Calais in France, it was a 1 hour 40 minute journey by ferry. On the other side Glen was a little excited to finally be in Europe.  Battling with driving on the otherside of the road was interesting, let's just say we had one close call with oncoming traffic, then we were pretty at it good after that.

As we got off the ferry Glen was searching for the Clandestines who camp out near the truck stop (in some forest apparently). Glen  is a fan of the TV show 'British Border Security' and and knows from the show that when the truckies have  a snooze at night the 'Clandestines' (aka. Stowaways, aka. Illegal immigrants) sneak into the trucks and hide in the cargo. It's their ticket into the apparent country of great opportunity.  Alas, we did not find their 'camp' driving out of the port, but that's not due to Glen's lack of looking.

Well an hour and a half later we're in Burgge.  We headed to Camping Memling to set up camp.  A pretty basic park.  Nice warm showers though, which were much needed - more about that later. Have a look at our set up below:

Magic tent!!! Yeah, real magic - it can magic itself back to shop again I reckon....again, more later.

After setting up camp, we headed into town for the afternoon, took a wander around the city and had a famous Belgian Beer.  Here's our afternoon in images.

Here's our first encounter with the canals that run all around and through the city.  Apparently Burgge is known as the Venice of the west. Nice smile Glenny, you're being so photogenic!

A shop of gateaux, we passed this on our walk into town.



A typical street, always abundant with bikes.



Sneaky photo of Belgian Chocolates. Not sure why it was 'sneaky', I think I fet like I'd get in trouble for photographing the chocolates. Doesn't make a whole lot of sense in hindsight.

Another pic, these are pralines - famed as origninating in Belgium.

making a little purchase.  Still haven't tried them yet!

This is the Church of the Holy Blood. We visited it the next day. A typical Catholic church, very elaborate and rich inside. A little vial of blood is displayed on a purple velvet cushion and guarded by a priest.  This is believed to have been Jesus's blood. Brought here after one of the Cursades.  Others theories say it's perfume.  Me I say.....creepy. Pretty impressive gothic building though.

We tried this beer.  It's a famous Belgian one called Kriek and is cherry flavoured. You can see it's sort of red in colour.  It didn't taste too bad, strong and heavily cherry flavoured, but not the sweetness I expected. there was raspberry too.

I wonder if they fight over bike parks? Do they have bike rage? Do they ring their bell if the bike in front is stalled at the lights? Are there bike trade-in yards, when you want to upgrade your model? I have no answers to these questions, but all the bikes certainly make you wonder...

We saw this beerrmobile in the streets.  They pedalled it round, stopped had a few drinking games, then pedalled on again. Interesting idea, but it was at this point that I realised how old I'd become.

Guess what was for dinner? Chips...mmmmm.... The Belgians credit themselves with having invented the frie (fry? not sure on the singular, it's not often that we eat just one of the things).  More about that in the info for the next day, but have a look at dinner.  Twice cooked fries so they're nice and crunchy with some creamy mayonnaise.

Yummy.....and greasy!

We headed back to camp to get an early night. After nice warm showers we squeezed into the tent - 'hmm Glen, it's a bit of a tight squeeze isn't it, ah well, we'll be ok.....oh dear, now the door's shut, you're too long for the tent, are you right to curl up a little?...Hey there's condensation developing on the inside of the ten, funny that....sleep, sleep, sleep...Geez Glenny can you move over a little....sleep, sleep... Gee I'm finding it a bit hard to breathe in here, I wonder if I have claustrophobia? No, listen to Glen breathe too, it's loud, he's wheezing and breathing far quicker than normal....sleep...Oh, my hair's wet, it's the condensation from the tent, and I still can't get enough air....sleep... Morning, *Glen sits up and his head knocks the roof of the tent. Lots of big droplets of water rain down from the roof all over the blankets*...I hop up with a splitting headache and wonder (just quietly) if I have brain damage due to the seeming lack of oxygen in the tent over the duration of the night. Arggh, this is a disaster! A delightful little tent turns into a nightmare.  One thing I can say I was happy with - being nice and warm and toasty - no thanks to that carbon dioxide chamber! More thanks to my warm jarmies and bedding.

Well this sleep was better than then second night, so no need to relive all the drama again for you, you get the picture.

The next day we headed into town again.  I've given an outline of our some of the highlights of our day below.  I must say, we had a really good time in Brugge - lots of eating, you'll see...

The Fries Museum
Yep, that's what it's called. A museum devoted to the quintessential fry (or chip as we Aussies are more accustomed to saying). From the origin of the potato (did you know it was Central and South America?) to abtract art made of tiny forks (fry eating forks to be exact), this museum was pretty comprehensive.  There are a few theories as to the origin of the term French fries: here they are below, just for your cultural enlightment:
1. As I said in my last post, the French comes from the cut, to french cut something means to cut it into small pieces.
2. During wartime, the Belgians shared their cooked potatoes - with the Yanks, who named them French Fires due to the fact that French speakers shared their crunchy cuisine admist wartime camraderie.
3. A guy named Fritz and his wife pioneered the fry in their restaurant. (Sorry, the rest of his story evades me...maybe it's too much carbon dioxide on the brain - ha ha).

FYI - The potato crisp (or potato chips as we know it) came about after a man in a restaurant requested that his fries be cut thinner. The chef must have been a bit peeved, taking it to the extreme in wafer thin slices and serving these to the customer - who loved it.

Fries dispensing machine. 60 seconds and you have freshly cooked fries. One machine can provide 200 serves.

Glen cookin' those fries, with this experience, he's a shoe-in at the fish and chip shops back home.

Choco-story -The Chocolate Museum
This one was pretty interesting too. Lots of info on the origins of chocolate - the cacao tree in Mexico  (Central and South America have lot to be admired for).

Chocobama!

All my dreams come true, the biggest chocolate egg I've ever seen.

I'm just glad that chocolate doesn't cost 5 days' wages as it did about 200 years ago in England.  I'd have suffered greatly.


Madonna and Child
This is one of the very few Michaelangelo sculptures outside of Italy.  It depicts Mary and baby Jesus.  It's surprisingly small (as most famous paintings and sculptures seem to be; their infamy seems to enlarge their actual size). It was pretty special to look upon something sculpted all those many years ago - 500ish - by one of the greats. 

Aview down the passage to the Madonna statue.

Belgian Waffle
Need I say more? Yum yum. We had two in one day.  Me, dusted with icing sugar and Glenny with cream.

Don't know how waffles with Nutella would go, but we were impressed with the giant bottle of the stuff.

The smallest gothic window around!

Lots of chanels just like this one, but you have to have a license to operate a boat on them.

Picturesque! (just for you Dad)

Belgians and their Beer

Certainly not on our boat ride through the canals, is this interesting wall of beers that we spotted. One of the biggest varieties around I'd way, way too many if you ask me.




Belgian Lace, hawked in souvenir shops all over the city.  I did invest in two pretty hankies, don't tell the grandmas...shhh. They'll head their way later this year.

 Flowers in a Nunnery 


Just pretty, there're those crazy daffodils again.

 Well that brings our sojourn in Belgium to a close.  We didn't get to Brussels, maybe another time. But choosing between the two, we're glad that we decided on Brugge, a weekend well spent I say. Another post to come about our visit to the Western Front, but I'll save that for another day.  Goodnight!



  

The day of the mammoth posts be it today.  Aye, I've another fer yer ears (Scottish or pirate, I'm so bad at it I can't tell).  This one is about language.   Have  a look at the conversation below and see if you can pick out what I struggle with:

English person: Hiya!

Me: ...Hi.

English person: You alright?

Me: Oh dear, does it look like I've been crying or something? Am I looking a bit overwhelmed/tired/stressed....?  (wary - not really sure what they're asking, and with  added volume and pitch to assert I'm not bothered by anything)  Yes, I'm fine thanks, how are you?

It sort of comes out a little defensive really, in the sense: There's nothing wrong with me, how could you possibly think that things aren't alright with me? Look at me, how with it do I look? I'm all under control, a smooth operator. Naturally, I also know this is their way of saying 'how are you?' Yet still, each time, a part of me also wonders if they've spotted a weakness in my calm exterior. It's like psychological gymnastics each time I'm greeted. You know, I'm just not wired to interpret it it that way.

As for the 'Hiya!' I disapprove. I will not partake in this greeting, sticking to the far more superior 'Hi!', 'Hello!' or the occasional 'G'day'.  Believe it or not, I'm quite the g'day user at home. All those years working at Fulham Rd News did it to me; There's only so many times you can greet people with the first two options.

On a spur of the moment whim, Glen booked us in on the ferry from Dover to Calais this weekend.  We're heading over 7am Saturday morning and coming back Monday at 3pm.  Our intention is to head to Brugge (pron:: Brooguh, so I've learnt) in Belgium and check it out and its surrounds.  Oui, oui, je peut parler francais! Here's a few of the things we intend to do, see and EAT:

• Belgian chocolate, eat plenty, buy some then eat it up too. I'm really looking forward to this.
• See Da Vinci's Madonna and child masterpiece.
• Lace, quite a traditional industry in Belgium so it be told, I'm a real sucker for the handicrafts.
• French fries museum, apparently they started in Belgium - and did you know that the French refers to the cut of the potato (not (deceivingly) the country of origin).
• Eating of said fries, with mayo
• Tasting of beer, including the clear beer, the berry beer, and wait for it...the chocolate beer!
• Belgian waffles, bought from a street vendor.... yummy. 

That's all my list consists of at the moment, more research to do, and I'll let you know how it pans out when we get back.

We have the intention of really using out tent this time (unlike in that cheeky cold Scotland). It's one of those self-erecting ones; you throw it and it pops out in mid air.  It came in a pack with sleeping bags, chairs and foam matresses: good deal.  So with some extra blankies and a hot water bottle, we're going to brave the 6 degree heat...I mean cold. Yet another 'I'll let you know how it pans out when we get back'. By the way, we've had a practice at folding it up, I know some people have a nightmare of a time collapsing these sorts of things (ma and pa), but we seem to have it under control. let's hope.

This is our first sojourn on the continent, and the little beast Edy is going to be so handy.  We'll see how the car ferry is, and if all is pretty easy, look out France, here we come!

In other news, my work contract ends in two weeks.Time to look for something new.  They have offered me supply at the school, but it's not guaranteed every day. If it turns out as regular, I might give it a good shot.  It's just strange at work, I'm not used to being an outsider, having to sort of prove that I can do things.  It's probably good for me though, trying out something new.  Avoids complacency that's for sure!

New post and pics next week after Belgium. 

Love Stace xx oo

Flowers galore at the moment. Daffodils growing like weeds. Can you believe it? I've walked past front gardens where daffodils have crept up between the cracks in pavers!  I was talking to a lady at Thursday Night Knitting Group last night and she said that she plants her bulbs (usually in rows around the garden) and then finds they come up in all sorts of odd places. 'Those squirrels move them,' she said in an off-handed way. Meanwhile I thinking Squirrels, oh the creatures of nursery rhymes! I have seen only one bounding across a park in the early morning.

 And have a look at this pretty courtyard just a few flats down from ours. The pretty little colourful flowers are primrose and they're blooming everywhere.



So given all this beauty, I couldn't not have a little garden of my own.  Little being the key word here: take a look at it.




At least it's something that greets me when I get home in the afternoon. It's bright and cheery and reminds me a little of Christmas.

Have a look at the hottie in the uniform. Here's Glen off to work for the day. Not unlike his uniform at home, this one is just a little greener. 

A moment of creativity caught me. It's a little crazy, but read on. Hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

LUCY
Aslan is it really you?

ASLAN
Yes my child, I may be gone from Narnia physically but my spirit and likeness still live on in this pole on the Eastborne pier. Though I must say, blue has never been my colour, I'm more of a gold lion myself. Anyway, as I was saying, I'm still here in spirit, but child, you are all growing up.  The time will soon come when being 60 years old means you will no longer be able to enter the kingdom of Narnia. Use the time you have to make things right in the land.

LUCY
(Whining) But Aslan, what do we do when the White Witch comes and frosts our windows up and turns our cat to stone? We won't be able to manage. And then there's the fact that Edmund still can't resist her charms, I wish they'd just get married and be done with it.  And Susan's like so much prettier than me, and Peter, um Peter, um... (silence: crickets chirp, an owl hoots). My friend hoof feet tells me that I'm very often beautiful and clever, but I still cant't forgive him for selling me out to the White Witch.  It's just too much, oh Aslan, what am I to do? I wish this wasn't happening to me!"

ASLAN
And so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us. take courage in my infinite wisdom and wise advice Lucy.

LUCY
Hey, I've heard that before...I don't think that's yours...

ASLAN
(gives an indignant purr) to suggest I stole those words from Gandalf Grey Beard is absurd. Anyway, go my child, Narnia needs you, you need Narnia.... (softly)... and god I need a holiday.

LUCY
Huh?

[But it's too late, ASLAN's shimmering visage shrinks and loses vibrance. What's left is a dull blue likeness froze on the pole.]

LUCY
Well, I guess it's back to the wardrobe then. But how I do hate it, smelly mothballs and old things....

[LUCY continues to mumble as she turns her back on the pole and walks slowly back down the pier. Just as she turns the ASLAN visage sparks to life ever so briefly, rolls his eyes, then resumes a stony exterior once more.]

...


Hope you liked my parody, it sort of popped into my head when I first saw this pole. Sorry to any Narnia or LOTR fans, but I know I can do this because most of the time I take these stories so seriously myself. Not surprising then that I know there's a LOTR museum in Germany...

Glenny has a new job. For a while he was working in a local school, in a behaviour support type of roll (any Kirwanites reading this think support room, but worse). Anyway, he decided it wasn't for him, so persued some ambulance work he'd been offered with Sussex Medical Services. The only downside with this job was not guaranteed hours each week. We talked about it and he decided to take the plunge. I convinced him that once he wows them with his charms and professionalism, he'll be a shoe-in for regular work.

Well, having started this week, he's already worked 35 hours.  Not too bad at all I say.  One 15 hour shift in South London transporting for the hospitals would have been a long haul I reckon.   It's not emergency care work like he does at home, more like secondary care for transporting and first aid for events and things. The company promotes itself as available for a variety of things: sports coverage, private patient transport, international patient retrieval (Europe) and.....wait for it.....film and TV production assistance (vehicles, extras, etc. I guess). I think Glen would make a good celebrity, I'm going to be hanging out for his first role in The Bill, or Rosemary and Thyme.  Though I think he'd love to be on Top Gear just quietly, he doesn't miss an episode. Well that's something a bit different isn't it? Overall, Glen seems to be pretty happy in his new job, and the great thing is, if we're going away or have something on, he can just let them know the dates he's unavailable, and they're fine with that.  Cool!

Here are some pics below of a Motocross event he worked at recently. The mud's pretty crazy!





When he's next off to work, I'll post a pic in uniform, spunky hunky, ha ha.

To make best use of our afternoons while we try to save, save, save money for a few explorations, I drag myself (and Glenny) out into the cold to do a bit of exercise along the seafront. It's been pretty good weather recently, so there's usually a bit of sunshine and blue skies. Despite this, it's still mighty freezing, especially when the wind's blowing. Weaving in and out of other walkers and joggers, Glen powers off, and I labour slowly behind. You see, I'm not much of a jogger, but I think yesterday that I discovered something. My usual technique is to set small goals, jog to these, then walk a short distance, repeating these two steps over and over again. Each time I stopped I was a bit out of breath, so I figured that was as far as I could jog. WRONG! Yesterday I had a break through: what if I pushed on, through the tough breathing, what would happen? And so I did. I realized that the breathing does get tough, but if you maintain a steady pace, it stays just bearable. So I jogged and jogged and jogged. Nearly a km to be exact. For me that's quite an achievement. I'm no marathon runner, but at least I can hold it for a bit and look like I know what I'm doing. I might just need to get me some high vis wear, that's quite a jogging staple over here.

Glenny in his get up.

Beanie to keep the ears from freezin in the wind.

.

A bit of jogging, not my best form, I don't have a best form, I just look awkward all the time, ha ha.

The old pier again, looks so sad.

This is a pretty logical one, but it never ceases to make me feel delighted.

Icey cold water....from the tap. Yep, just turn the tap on, let it run for 5 seconds, then fill your glass with cold water.  Now, I haven't gone crazy and lost sight of the fact that it's freezing outside and therefore the water coming out of the tap is cold too.  But, being a cold water drinker from way back, dealing with the filling and emptying of the water jug in the fridge on a daily basis, the ease with which I can now get myself a glass of nice cold water still amazes me.  No water jug needed thanks!

If you're a visitor to Loz's salon, you will have surely been served one of these biscuits on one occasion or another.  If you're like me, you may have even snuck out the back a few times to rip open the tiny packets and stuff your mouth full of them. They're delicious. So, you can imagine my surprise when I was served a hot chocolate with one of these delish caramel biccies on the side.  Imagine that!

The weird and the wonderful; things that are just a little off beat. I thought I'd introduce a new type of post to air just those things. In a country that is not so different from our own, it's very easy to feel quite at home here. Yet there are those moments where you hear something, or come across something foreign and strange, and you realise you're 'not in Kansas anymore Toto'. Case in point number 1....

Well, how very interesting when, while seeking out some Sprite in the supermarket over here (Sprite is actually lemon and lime flavour over here, but that could be another quip altogether...) I came across bottles of 'Shandy' premix you can buy off the shelf.  Yes, 2 litre, nice and tepid, brown-tinted, plastic bottles of Shandy. 


To like or not to like? This wasn't a dilemma for me.  NOT LIKE! having a shandy like this totally defeats the rules of shandy etiquiette. It's not about a jumbo plastic 'keg' of the stuff, it's about enjoying a nice cold glass 'fresh' of a Sunday afternoon. I think by the time this bottle had been opened once or twice, its contents would be flat.  Seemingly clever idea, but it should not be served (or consumed) like softdrink.  I might only purchase this once (I'm curious about the quality of it), though it will certainly have  to be to share with someone else. Drat that Loz is coming over and can't be the one to share it with me....

. this must have been soothing to his ego, as he didn't skip a beat once on the whole trip.

Edy's about 14 years old, but he's still got a lot of zip.  When we were zooming along the highway, I cheered him on with the song: "Go Edy go go go,  Edy be good".

Our route (marked in red).

Well, here's a little run down of the rest of our trip around Scotland as promised. After a night's stay in the nicest bed and breakfast in Inverness (it had a little lounge room and big TV in our room and a library of books and DVDs, along with the use of a laptop to borrow if needed), we headed on to the famous battle site of Culloden.  It was here that many of the Scottish clans united under the leadership of Bonnie Prince Charlie, whose family had been ousted from the throne of Scotland in years previous to have it taken by English. The Culloden Centre is a museum of information, film re-enactments, audio displays and authentic pieces from the battle (bullets, weapons, clothing, even buttons that had been found in the soil of the battle field many years afterwards). A truly thorough account of the period in Scottish history from start to end.  It tells both sides of the story, that of the Jacobites (the clans and Prince Charles, grandson of previous ruler James IV), and the British, who had instigated a take over of the throne for fears of Jame's style of absolute ruling being too pro-Catholic.  When you think about it (and this comes from all my watching of The Tudors, Elizabeth and Elizabeth: Golden Age), religion has caused so much conflict over the duration of history, and England in particular had gone through so many religious reformations: "We're Catholics...Now we have our own church - The Church of England...Now we're all Catholics again....Church of England..." I think I would have been scared to believe in anything back then.  Anyway, Bonnie Prince Charlie enlisted the support of the Highland Clans and staged a take over of the country, and he was successful in some areas for a time.  But as resources waned, and help from France did not arrive, his men faced the British (led by his Cousin or a relative along those lines - can you believe it?) over the field at Culloden, and basically it was a bloodbath that lasted less than an hour.  The British triumphed and the clansmen were either killed or fled.  Following this, the wearing of tartan was forbidden and those who fought for or supported the rebels were hunted down.

It was really a moving experience to stand there and imagine the two forces facing each other across the battlefield, that probably doesn't look to different today than it did at the time 350 years ago: knee-length grass bent over in the breeze, gnarled and stunted trees sparse across the vastness, the natural hollows and rises in the land and the wind whistling across the barren field. It was a really powerful experience, you could almost picture the battle unfolding before you and hear the cries of the men carried on the wind on this now  lonely and empty field. It certainly commands a degree of reverence and respect. Have a look below:




Clansmen of the same name who died in the battle were buried together.

This location was certainly worth the visit, such an important place in Scottish history.

From here we headed through Aberdeen, stopping to taste some delicious shortbread and viewing the factory along the way. Glen even stopped in at The Glen Moray Whisky Distillery, and bought a little bottle (we'll probably end up using it in our cooking). He had a chuckle to himself when the man in line in front of him enthusiastically requested to purchase the souvenir wallet and cap. Clearly he was an avid fan of the whisky and we hadn't even heard of it.

From here, on to Edinburgh. We visited the Edinburgh Castle, which again, told us much about the historical significance of the many people who lived there.  We got to see the Scottish crown jewels (called The Honours of Scotland and locked away for years in a chest (I guess since royalty no longer resided in Scotland), forgotten about, and only to be found again in the last century then put on display for the public to see) and we also saw The Stone of Destiny, still used in the coronation of kings and queens to this day. We stood in the tiny room where Mary Queen of Scots gave birth to her son and we looked down on to the small animal graveyard, where military mascots and animals are still buried to this day. So much to do and see!



Front of Edinburgh, where they hold the Tattoo every year.







View of Edinburgh city.

 


View of Edinburgh city.

 

Stained glass commemorating William Wallace

 

This is a door from one of the jail cells that has names and pictures carved into it by the prisoners - I was fascinated  by it.



I met and fell in love the beautiful products of the brand Ness, sold in all sorts of places over the country. Beautiful bags, scarves, clothes and accessories in a modern, bright and cheery woollen tartan (as you can see in the picture  below). I couldn't resist getting a vibrant little purse and a bright woollen vest.  Maybe I will model it on here in an upcoming post - ha ha)

Pretty, pretty!