Tips for travelling Europe

Flights

Don’t carry more than 20kgs check-in luggage. It may cost you more than the fare if it’s a cheap flight. Don’t prepay excess luggage and choose your seat if you buy cheap flights. It’s much cheaper to chance it at the airport. Check when you buy a cheap flight that one check-in suitcase is allowed, not just carry-on. Leave plenty of time before your flight so you’re not rushing to get to the boarding gate, which may be 10-15 minutes walk away from where you are.

Driving

PAY EXTRA FOR A GPS!!!!! But don’t obey it blindly! Drive on the right hand side of the road! Be careful when driving in car-parks. Watch out for cars and particularly trucks overtaking without using an indicator. If you see a car using an indicator, they must be tourists like you. Don’t sit in the fast lane even if you’re doing 160km/hour. There’ll be some Speedy Gonzales appear up your bum within the blink of an eye, and they’re in a HURRY! Be prepared for trucks and lots of them- you may have to overtake 10-20 at once.

Money

Be prepared. Take two or even three credit cards. Use your 28 degrees card as much as possible to save on transfer fees. Take as little cash as possible. Don’t rely on your travel cash card working every time.

Tolls

It is necessary to purchase a vignette (a sticker to attach to your windscreen) in these European countries. Czech Republic, Slovakia, Slovenia, Hungary, Austria, Switzerland, Bulgaria and Romania. You must purchase it at a PETROL STATION which is generally just inside the border. Hopefully, you will see the border crossing. Now that’s it European Union, you can easily miss it. The vignette is generally cheap 8-12 euro, which gives you 2-10 days visiting time. If you fail to purchase one of these, and you get pulled over by the TOLL POLICE, you will be forced to pay an enormous fine. (120 euro in Austria) Ignorance will not be accepted as an excuse! After purchasing a vignette, you may still have to pay tolls, but they will not be nearly as expensive as the countries’ tolls without vignettes. Be prepared for BIG TOLLS! Almost 150 euro in one day travelling from Italy to France via the Mont Blanc tunnel.

Accommodation

Look for places to stay off the beaten track.  You’ll be surprised at what you discover. For more than one night, guest-houses with just a few rooms, and airbnb accommodation are so much more comfortable than a hotel. Read reviews before you book. Arrive at your accommodation before nightfall. It’s much easier to find anywhere in daylight! Be prepared to change your plans. Our best stay was one we booked at the last minute.

Eating

Book places which provide breakfast in the room rate. Take something from the breakfast buffet to eat during the day. Buy groceries (including wine) whenever you can. Some of the best wines were bought from supermarkets for 2-3 euro per bottle. Eating out is generally very expensive, so save eating out for special occasions or when you’re in a hotel for the night. Best countries to go out to dinner are Portugal, Turkey and Hungary. Choose a restaurant that has locals eating there. Avoid eating in the tourist areas whenever you can.

Drinking

If you don’t like strong coffee, drink tea! Turkish tea is actually very refreshing. Iced coffee is hard to find, but if you do find it, it will be in a can or a paper cup. Drink the house red wine. Many restaurants include it for free, especially in Portugal, and it’s delicious! Avoid wine in Turkey-it’s expensive and barely drinkable. Drink the Efes beer instead! Drink beer all over Europe whenever you’re not drinking red wine. Drink plenty of tap water- you don’t need to buy bottled water anywhere except Turkey.

To sum up, listen to others’ travel experiences. They might help you avoid some of the pitfalls of travelling, and enjoy your trip even more. And to quote Keeley, stay calm and assertive at all times. It's the key to a stress-free holiday.

Tel Aviv to Bangkok to Sydney to Brisbane and HOME!

Four airports in one day again! Argh! My first flight was with El Al to Bangkok in a 777. I thought I’d chosen an exit row but apparently not. The steward said the seat I had was better, but I didn’t see how. It was up the front of economy and on the aisle, but I was surrounded by a group of loud-mouthed Israeli youths travelling to Thailand for a month. The reason I knew they were loud-mouthed was I had been lined up near them at security. They all had brand new passports and were obviously excited. I had two beside me, one across the aisle and two behind me, so the conversation flowed all over me. Great! I was hoping to sleep.

Dinner was served-balls of something and couscous, pickled salad and dry cake. I ate the balls and drank an orange juice. The only alcohol they have is red wine, and I’m still not up to it. The “entertainment” was terrible. Bot only were none of the movies listed on the correct channels, the screen was microscopic, and the sound almost inaudible even on maximum. I watched Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day then amazingly fell asleep. I must have been sound asleep because I was dreaming and someone in my dream was saying “excuse me”. It was the guys wanting to get out! I then watched a movie with Jason Bateman called The Longest Week, which would have to be one of the most boring, pointless movies I’ve ever sat through. I kept watching thinking something exciting must happen soon. This flight was never ending.  I estimated it should be about 6 hours, but in fact was 10 and a half! When I looked at the flight screen, I found out why. We had flown all the way down the Red Sea and over the Indian Ocean, across the southern tip of India, before coming up to Bangkok. We hadn’t flown over any countries at all! Finally breakfast was served- an omelette, olives and cherry tomatoes were all I ate. The yoghurt was inedible! Nothing was served in between, not an ice-cream or an apple or anything, and there was no self-service bar. I won’t be flying El Al again by choice. Almost four hours at Bangkok before I board my Qantas flight back to Australia.

Well, I saved the best until last! BUSINESS CLASS, BABY! Of course I didn’t pay for it!  It was heaven in the air! I’m even considering paying for it next trip, but $9,000 return is a lot of money, but wow! Comfortable, noise-reducing headphones, a butler to be shared with 3 other passengers, who treated me like royalty, Billiecart champagne on boarding the plane, which continued to flow until dinner, which was cooked for each passenger! I had zucchini and parmesan soup, followed by grilled atlantic salmon. Several desserts to choose from- but I reclined my seat into a bed and was asleep before dessert. And, ah the bliss! I can’t explain just how different this was from economy! I wanted to take photos but thought that would seem rather gauche, so just lay back and lapped it up. The long flight was over in no time- I never looked at the flight map once- when in economy, I’m checking it every five minutes to see how much longer I have to survive until our flight reaches its destination.

Reluctantly, I disembarked at Sydney, checked into an earlier flight, and prepared to pay $60 for excess luggage. But, aha, when I mentioned I had flown business class in from Bangkok, I was allowed the whole 30kgs free of charge!

In the bus and over to domestic wher I tried to board a plane to Melbourne! Luckily the scanner picked it up as the wrong flight. In my defence, the gates were right beside each other and the boarding times were 5 minutes apart, and I was keen to get home!

I sat down with my backpack on to wait the extra 5 minutes, but when I tried to get up, I just couldn’t manage it, and ended up spread-eagled and laughing on the floor! Those seats were much lower than I expected. I rolled out of my backpack and managed to regain my feet. I am beyond embarrassment! I lined up and boarded the 737 for my last flight home. From riches to rags, I was stuck in between two large people. (I can talk!) After a white chocolate and cranberry cookie and a cup of tea, my right leg started to cramp right up to my hip so I had to get out of that seat! The hostess made me up a lucozade drink to try to dissipate the cramp, and I sat further back in the plane with a little more legroom.

Off the plane and into the oppressive heat, grabbed my suitcase from the carousel, and was just starting to panic when I spied Ross, who was here to pick me up. I am so happy to be home. So, until my next adventure, farewell, au revoir, adieus, adios, arrivederci, and auf wiedersehen.

Masada and the Dead Sea

After a much better sleep (I resorted to sleeping pills- I simply could not spend another night like last night!), I woke up refreshed, packed all of my belongings except my togs, towel and sarong, and headed down for breakfast. (A cup of coffee and a croissant usually) Even that wasn’t forthcoming as it was 6am and breakfast is not available until 8am on Saturdays.

No problem. I popped into the supermarket next door and bought an iced coffee, and a couple of pastries, which were just being put on the shelves fresh!  I had no sooner finished them than there was a knock on the door and I was off on tour with Alberto in a big red bus. I was the first pick-up, next was a family of six from Melbourne (I didn’t know that until later as they were all speaking Hebrew or Yiddish or some language I didn’t recognize), and then a couple of guys from Argentina.

We hadn’t gone far before I was asleep again. I swear I can sleep anywhere now. Alberto spoke in English and Spanish and it was in the long-winded Spanish part that I fell asleep. I stirred at Jerusalem, and promptly fell asleep again. When I woke up, we were in the desert but there were date palm plantations to break up the monotony. Apparently, (the Australian family told me later) he had made fun of my sleeping. They really didn’t like him. The grandmother is going to call the tour company and complain about him. I didn’t think he was that bad, but he was quite arrogant. He called me Australia the whole day, yelling my name when I came out of the toilet even though I had been nowhere near the allotted ten minutes!

First stop, Masada. I knew nothing at all about this place apart from King Herod built it. He was the Roman-appointed king of the Jews and was universally despised. Seventy years later, a group of Jews retreated to the top of this mountain to escape the cruelty of the Romans. They held out against the Romans for six years. The fortress looked like it was impregnable, but the crafty Romans used thousands of slaves to build a huge ramp up to the top of the mountain. The 967 Zealots, as they are called, foresaw their inevitable capture, and committed suicide to avoid slavery. Even today, they take Israeli troops up to the top of Masada and say, “Masada, never again” or something like that. Basically, they will never be slaves to another race again. What with this and the Holocaust stories I heard, it’s no wonder the Israeli people are the way they are. It’s deep in their psyche to never kowtow to others, but it makes them come across as rude and arrogant and superior, especially the men. They do nothing for nothing- you have to pay for every single thing. For example, I had paid a fortune to Momo’s for a 3 night stay, but they still wanted to charge me 12 shekels for a shower before I came to the airport, consequently I’m smelling of Dead Sea salt and sulphur! I did have to pay 5 shekels to have my luggage stored from 6-5pm. I carried it down the stairs (actually with the help of a guest returning very drunk at 6am). All they had to do was keep it in a locked room.

I digress. Next stop, Ein Gedi Spa and the Dead Sea. I was given a locker key, so changed into my togs and headed down to the beach. Since the spa was built 30 years ago, the Dead Sea has retreated 2km so what used to be a 30 second walk from the spa to the beach is now a 30 minute walk, or you can catch a little cart pulled along by a tractor, which is what I did, but not before trying to warm up in the thermal hot water from the open-air showers- a nice back massage. It was rainy and quite cold with only togs on.

It was advised to leave your sandals on, and I know why. The salt has crystallised along the edge of the water and is quite sharp to walk on. The two Argentinians and I braved the cold and walked tentatively into the water. I thought it would be warmer but it wasn’t freezing, and I quite soon got used to the temperature. Now to float- oh, that was easy- what was difficult was regaining one’s footing on the bottom. My feet kept wanting to float! It was like floating on jelly that wasn’t quite set. I reckon if it were any saltier, you’d be able to walk on the surface! I accidentally got a mouthful and immediately spat it out. It took ages to get rid of the taste from my mouth.

Back on the “train” to the indoor spa. Beautiful hot sulphuric but salty thermal water, made it very easy to float and relax. 15 minutes was the recommended maximum but I stayed in for half an hour. I’m a seasoned spa girl now!

I dressed and went down to the restaurant to see if anything took my fancy. A plate of salad was 24 shekels, so thought I’d try some of their salads. I have no idea what they were but they were quite tasty. I had a few shekels left in change so thought I might try some dessert. I chose a small chocolate muffin for 9 shekels thinking I had plenty, but apparently those lovely gold 10s are not 10 shekels but 1/10 of a shekel. (about 2.5 cents), but the checkout girl gave it to me anyway. That must be what the boy was the goat was telling me- it was too little- and here’s me thinking I was being generous!

I sat out in the warm sunshine waiting for the group to assemble. Of course it was bright sunshine now after I’d been in the sea! The Melbourne family joined me, and were telling me this was their very first overseas trip. The father had wanted to come to Israel his whole life! I didn’t want to disillusion him in his enthusiasm, but I just couldn’t share it. Admittedly, I had enjoyed the Dead Sea, but Jerusalem left me cold, and Tel Aviv was worse! It’s probably the only country that I’ve ever been to that I haven’t wanted to return to. Maybe Portugal has spoiled me? I’m sure they won’t miss me. It’s like Mecca for Jews, and Christians carry on about it being the Holy Land and all that, but really? Maybe I was just too sick, tired and homesick to enjoy its glories, but I won’t be giving it another chance. It was never a place high on my bucket list- or on my bucket list at all in fact- but I had the choice of a flight home from Tel Aviv or a flight from Frankfurt via Dallas-Fort Worth!

I was no sooner back on the bus than I was asleep. I think the coughing must be tiring me out.  I stirred to take one last look at Jerusalem, and then slept all the way back to Tel Aviv. I woke up to “Momo’s” and clambered down from the bus only to find they had dropped me a block away. I started walking and Alberto yelled out, “Australia! The other way!” I was glad I didn’t give him a tip. I don’t think anyone did. There mustn’t be any sort of pension here as both our tour guides were in their seventies.

I collected my luggage from the luggage room and told the girl on reception that the guy from two days ago said I could have a bed for 15 minutes to get my flight stockings on. She couldn’t understand what I needed. Shower? No. Beds are all clean. Yes, I know. I’m not going to get into it, just lay on top of it to put my stockings on. I tried to show here how tight the stockings were. The look on my face must have melted her heart because she opened room number 1 for me to put them on. How I hate this operation! I must be getting better at it though, because it didn’t take me as long as usual. I paid her 120 shekels and she ordered me a taxi for 7pm. It arrived early, and I was off to the airport.  Only three more flights!

Jerusalem

Well, I could barely stay awake at 7.30pm, but would you believe I hardly slept at all? I coughed all night- the more I tried to stop coughing, the more I coughed. I thought distracting myself with some TV episodes might send me to sleep- it worked well round Europe, but not tonight.  I eventually dozed between 4.30 and 6am, but wasn’t tired until I got on the bus! I was sound asleep before we had left Tel Aviv, but not before I’d heard some history from our tour guide, a woman at least 67 years old, possible older, but bloody fit! She was in and out of that bus like a teenager.

Tel Aviv was founded in 1909 on the outskirts of the old Jewish port city of Jaffa (Yafo in Hebrew). Tel Aviv and Yafo were merged into a single city in 1950, two years after the establishment of the State of Israel.

Our first stop was Mt Scopus, to take a look over the city of Jerusalem. No colour here. All the buildings must be built out of the local granite, which makes the cityscape look very drab. Even the Jewish cemetery on the side of the Mount of Olives looks dull and boring. We made the obligatory stop at a shop that sold olive wood carvings, pottery, rosary beads, silver, jewellery made of eilat stone, which comes in varying colours of blue and green, and anything else you can name.

We were given a free cup of coffee (disgusting stuff) so I walked round with mine for a while before depositing it in the toilet. There were only 5 others on my tour- but I think everyone spent up big, so I didn’t feel bad. I think everything is really overpriced here. There are 3 Israeli women, a mother, her daughter, and step-daughter, a guy from Venezuela, and a Brazilian girl who lives and works in Dublin.

Our next stop was the Holocaust Museum where we were allowed almost 2 hours. It was extremely well done, even though it was very crowded since it closes at lunch on Fridays. I thought I knew a lot about the holocaust, but in fact, I know very little. The Hebrew word, Shoah, is also used to describe the genocide carried out by the Nazis. I think it has made the Jewish people the way they are today. Israel is a completely open country and if you are Jewish, there are no immigration restrictions. 

I was really surprised how complicit other countries were in allowing the holocaust to occur. Denmark was the only country that offered refuge for Jews and stood up to Hitler and didn’t allow their Jews to be persecuted as they were in other European countries. Even Australia refused entry to Jewish refugees. The whole world basically turned a blind eye to what was happening all over Europe, and particularly in Poland. The demographic figures tell the tale. I saw many men openly crying as they walked through the displays, audios and videos, which were more than sad- actually shocking to witness man’s inhumanity to man.

Next stop, lunch. I actually didn’t feel hungry after that Holocaust Museum experience; but thought I’d better eat something as we have the Old City walk to do this afternoon. Lunch was at a restaurant in an old monastery, and was buffet style, but not very enticing, not cheap. I had a piece of chicken and some veggies, which were swimming in oil. I ate the chicken, but only tasted the veggies. The bread was flat bread, but it was dry and stale. I’ve been spoiled in Portugal!

On the way in, I’d seen three boys holding a baby goat, asking for money. I didn’t see anyone give them any so on the way out, I gave my last 3 coins to them and took a photo. For some unknown reason, they didn’t want to take my money! I don’t know if it was too much, too little, or if they wanted American dollars! I couldn’t understand a word they were saying.

After a short drive, the bus dropped us to the top of the hill, where the church of the Holy Sepulchre stands, and we visited several of the six chapels inside- Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Armenian, Assyrian, Coptic, and I can’t remember the other one. It had a very strange smell, which was making me cough so I was very pleased when we came outside to find it had started raining.

Because so many branches of Christianity share the same church, nothing is allowed to be changed without the agreement of all the others. This Status Quo came into effect in 1757, I think. There’s an old wooden ladder leaning up against one of the high windows. No one knows why it’s there, but no one’s allowed to move it because it was there before 1757!

From here, we walked down through the Armenian Quarter to the Jewish Quarter, and then finally the Muslim Quarter, stopping at the stations of the Cross in the reverse order. The rain was coming down hard now, and the narrow paved streets soon became rivulets. Our guide took us into several shops, trying to get us to buy scarves for 180 shekels. I explained I have a wardrobe full of scarves at home that I never wear because it’s too hot, so then they started looking for  a summer one! I managed to extricate myself from that shop and walk further down the street, trying to find the higher stones to keep my feet dry. Yes, I had my sandals and socks on- the day had started out fine! I remarked to one of the Israeli girls that the peasant blouses we were passing would be something I would more likely use in Brisbane rather than scarves. Out of nowhere jumps the scarf man from at least several shops back, and tells me this is his shop too! I tell him they are pretty, but too small for me. He manages to find a 3XL, and has me try it on. It was so tight I thought I was going to burst the stitching, but he exclaims it fits perfectly! To make matters worse, out guide backs him up in his opinion. It is MILES too small! And 100 shekels (about $25- not cheap!) Further down the street, I see identical scarves to the 180 shekel ones for 20 shekels and I probably could have bargained him down to 10, but I do not need any more scarves.

Finally we arrive at the Western Wall and walk on through to the Wailing Wall. I was just about wailing by now! My feet were saturated and were getting icy cold. I just wanted to get back to the bus and change into dry socks and shoes. (I had taken the precaution of taking my boots in case it rained!)

Back to Tel Aviv in the pouring rain, and my dry little room- I can’t say warm, because it’s freezing again without my body in it to heat it up. And oh God! I have to pack if I’m going on this Dead Sea tour tomorrow, which leaves at 7.15am again. I’m going to have to carry wet togs onto the plane with me, which is why I wanted to do it today. Best laid plans!

Tel Aviv

The room? I finally got to a bed almost 24 hours after leaving my comfy bed in Marianne’s house, and what did I do? Did I collapse and go to sleep? Well, no. I cried and cried and cried. I tried to be positive, but the only plus I could see was that there were points to charge my phone, iPad and laptop, and the pillows were comfy. (It’s hard to get comfy pillows in Europe!) I had booked this hostel three months after my darling Momo died, purely for sentimental reasons. I should have taken notice of its 5.3 booking.com review score, although many guests gave it excellent reviews. I must be just tired which I am, and sick, which I am, to make me feel so miserable.

The room itself is narrow- the bed was maybe 2 foot wide (about 2 inches on either side of my hips!), definitely not enough room to roll over and not fall out of bed onto the cold, hard tiles. The curtains had seen better days, and the walls were filthy. I showered (the hot water took more then 5 minutes to come through) so by the time I actually got in, the entire bathroom had flooded and was running out into the bedroom, which must have lower tiles. Now, not only was the floor cold and hard, it was also wet! I sat on the bed, drying my feet with the one small towel I had been issued, before putting on my thermal bed-socks and trying to sleep, but sleep would not come. I was shivering with cold so I reached into the top drawer and found another blanket and finally settled down to sleep, thinking, if one solitary creature crawls on me during the night, I am outta here, whether I’ve paid or not. I was imagining the Big Bang episode where Shelton sits in Penny’s red chair that she brought up from the street and imagines big black cockroaches crawling all over him. God only knows how, but I finally fell asleep, probably from pure exhaustion combined with a lot of crying.

I woke up with my eyes caked shut-I thought I had conjunctivitis- but remembered it was dried tears. I waded to the toilet, dried my feet and got back into bed. I was prepared to put up with it, until I spoke to Stacey who convinced me I was paying too much to put up with a wet floor, and to ask for a mop and a new towel. I went down to reception and explained the situation. He sent a girl up immediately to mop the floor, and he was going to get someone to fix the bathroom. I said it’s ok, there’s a shower just across the hall I can use, I just won’t use my private one. He offered to move me to the room next door, which was identical to mine except smaller! My suitcase wouldn’t even fit in there! I went back down and told him I couldn’t have that room because my suitcase didn’t fit. He hadn’t realized it was actually smaller, so then offered me the double room! Yay! It’s not huge, but the bed is comfortable, the curtains are intact, and there’s even a wardrobe! But ii’s still freezing cold! What I wouldn’t give for those slippers and hot water bottle I left with Marianne now!

My voice has returned, but I was still coughing like a smoker, so thought I’d try to see a doctor to get some antibiotics to knock it on its head before the flight home. The guy at reception (I still don’t know his name) tried calling a local doctor but it kept going to voicemail. The girl made me a lovely coffee, and I went out to explore but left my camera on charging. I bought two pastries and an iced coffee from the little supermarket next door, and thought I’d try to find a park bench to sit down in the sun and enjoy my little picnic. First I found the American Embassy, just round the corner, then the beach! No wonder it’s so expensive here! This is the American tourist area! Dozens of hotels and hostels all within a stone’s throw of each other, and so close to the beach.  Summer holidays for Jewish Americans!

I sat down on the beach enjoying the delicious pastries and the sunshine before heading back to see if the doctor had been contacted. No luck, so he tried another. Yes, he could come in two and a half hours, so I collected my camera and headed out again to take a few photos of the beach. I wasn’t quick enough though as the rain came pouring down again, but I braved it anyway. It soon cleared- I walked down the beach and round a few blocks, before returning to book my tours at the desk. I was planning on the Massada and the Dead Sea tomorrow, and Jerusalem on Saturday before my flight. Best laid plans. Dead Sea tour is cancelled tomorrow because of the rain, so have booked that for Saturday, although it hasn’t stopped raining so that might not happen at all.

After all this exertion, I lay down to have a rest before the doctor came. He examined me and told me I had a viral infection and would not prescribe antibiotics- he gave me Sudafed! The whole point of paying 490 shekels ($125!) was to get antibiotics! And then he left without giving me the (expletive) receipt I need to claim on my travel insurance! What a jerk! I said if I’m still sick in two days, I’m going to call you back. He assured me I’d be well by then. He had better be right! I’ll be calling him tomorrow to get that bloody receipt anyway!

When I went to the chemist to get the Sudafed, the chemist tried to tell me all I needed was Vitamin C. I smiled sweetly and left. Who do they bloody think they are!

I decided to call in to a local café for some early dinner. Traditional home-cooked Israeli food was advertised on the window, so I thought why not? The vegetables were done differently, but it was chicken schnitzel, the same as I can get at my local pub for $10. It cost 52 shekels, which wasn’t bad, but he asked for a tip! The cheek of him! They must be used to American tourists!

To say this has been a culture shock after Portugal would be an understatement. My local area is filled with hotels, hairdressing salons, and money change places. But tomorrow I’m heading to Jerusalem where I hope to see a different side to Israel.

And to add insult to injury, I can’t post because I can’t read Israeli, and even when I did guess it correctly, it’s posted with punctuation marks in the wrong places, and ends of sentences on a line on their own. Don’t ask me! I just copied and pasted like I do normally. It must be an Israeli thing. I just had a Sudafed, and am getting sleepy. The tour picks me up at 7.15am tomorrow so I need an early night anyway.

Lisbon to Frankfurt to Athens to Tel Aviv

I’m tired just typing it! I packed my bag last night, and managed to fit all Stacey’s stuff in too, which was just as well as we had to be up at 3.40am! We sadly left our lovely airbnb quietly and headed for Lisbon airport following directions from our GPS.  After 25 minutes, we were still going up and down curvy mountain roads and I was sure we’d never get there in time, but suddenly we were on the freeway and were at the airport in minutes!

Max and Stacey said good-bye to me on the footpath, and headed off to the Europcar depot. I have yet to hear the upshot of that transaction!  I had to wait in line to check in, but when I finally arrived at the desk, I encountered a lovely trainee, with a supervisor, who managed to check my suitcase all the way through to Tel Aviv! I don’t have to cart it round with me in Athens! Yay! Also, I don’t know how, but I didn’t get charged excess baggage either. I think they both felt sorry for me. I’m losing my voice and felt quite weak, and I would have had to have lifted my suitcase off the conveyor belt and over to excess baggage to pay for it. 

The Lufthansa staff were all so helpful. When I explained I was ill, they found me a seat on my own close to the front of the plane. I couldn’t have expected any better service. When I was waiting in the boarding area, another guy came over and gave me an updated boarding pass from Frankfurt to Athens so I could be closer to the front. I don’t understand this philosophy- surely closer to the toilets at the back would be better?

Breakfast on the first flight was delicious- an omelette with two bread rolls, butter, jam and orange juice followed by a cup of tea. I could only fit in one of the bread rolls. My stomach has definitely shrunk!

I dozed most of the way, dragged myself off at Frankfurt, hooked into the free wifi, downloaded some photos to facebook, texted Keeley and Ross that I was still alive, and suddenly it was time for my flight. Of course my gate was miles away from where I was sitting. I was one of the last on the plane so there was no room for my backpack on top, and it won’t fit underneath the seat in front so I had to take some stuff out of it and put it in a narrow cupboard down the front.

I didn’t get a seat to myself this time but was sitting next to a young Greek girl and her mother, neither of whom wanted the window seat, so I was squashed in with my Thai bag stuck under the seat in front of me. “Lunch” was also delicious- chicken and rice with a chocolate for dessert. I still couldn’t face the wine, but many of the passengers were imbibing liberally and the hostesses kept offering more. I asked for a cup of tea with milk, but what came out was a squeak. The German hostess ordered me to speak louder, which only made my voice disappear altogether. I tried to explain, unsuccessfully, that I had laryngitis, but I eventually got some milk with my tea.  I dozed most of the way to Athens.

At Athens, we had to disembark and catch a bus to the terminal. I waited for my suitcase just in case it didn’t go all the way through, but when it didn’t appear on the carousel, I went to check in with Aegean only to find that my ticket did not entitle me to a suitcase at all! Bloody Expedia! It wasn’t a cheap ticket either- $142.60 which I paid on 12 April! I was slightly miffed, but paid the 35 euro happily, knowing that my suitcase was WAY overweight! It had weighed in at 28.9kg in Lisbon. So lucky I had it sent straight through! I went to find some water which cost only  35 cents but they didn’t have change of 10 euro, so I remained thirsty until I succumbed to an iced frappe, and was wishing I hadn’t. It was strong iced coffee with a dash of milk- disgusting! At least I have change for a bottle of water now!

Back on to another plane- this time, I chose the back seat, and sure enough, the back of the plane was empty. It was hardly worth sleeping for a 2 hour flight, but I did stretch out and put my legs up on the seat. It seems to reduce the swelling, as I hadn’t time to put my flight stockings on this morning.

“Dinner” (it was after 11pm) was Greek meatballs and rice, and I ate two serves, but kept my fig bar for breakfast. And a few more glasses of water, as I’m totally dehydrated.

As we came into Ben Gurion Airport, the skies opened- thunder, lightning and rain! And of course, the plane had stopped in the middle of the tarmac and we had to be bussed to the terminal. The whole planeload of passengers fitted onto one bus-just!

Customs put everyone through the third degree with their incessant questioning, so what should have been a 5-minute process was much longer. I started chatting to a young Aussie from Adelaide who’s been travelling round for the past two years and is just on his way back home after just visiting Iran and Jordan. No wonder they picked on him!

We collected our bags and the young UN guy from Congo showed me to the cash machine. He had calculated approximately how many shekels I can get for my last 140 euro- 650 apparently so I drew out 600, and headed to the taxi rank. He had said it should be about 100 shekels, but was in fact a fixed price of 167 because it was after midnight.

The taxi driver was born in Tel Aviv, but lived in Chicago for many years, before returning here. He dropped me off at Momo’s Hostel, where I was greeted by a young girl who asked me for payment- 650 shekels. I only had 433 left after the cab fare, so luckily they accepted credit card, otherwise I’d be washing floors as payment for my stay here. There was no lift, so she helped me carry my massive suitcase up one flight of stairs to my room. All I want is a bed somewhere, far away from the cold night air, but did I get it?

On Tour in Portugal!

Stacey and Max picked up the car, a Renault Cleo, and then me. They were early! We were heading over the bridge and down to the coast.  Our first stop was Sesimbra, a village right on the seafront, with a lovely beach and a fort. We found a café open and ordered a coffee to warm us up. While Stacey and Max headed off to buy stamps for her postcards, I ran down to the beach to test how cold the Atlantic Ocean was. (not very cold)

Stacey took over driving while I tried to navigate. Not very well, I’m afraid. Stacey wanted to drive through the national park, which I assumed was the part marked in green. We skirted the national park, drove through Setabul and wound up at a caravan park on the beach, where I asked the caretaker the whereabouts of a toilet. The coffee was having a deleterious effect on me.  He pointed to a little restaurant on the other side of the parking lot. There were dozens of workmen there drinking, but I did see one couple eating, so suggested we eat there. Max wanted us to try “chocos”, (cuttlefish) and this was their specialty. We were served three HUGE plates of it with chips and a HUGE jug of wine, which was free, but delicious! What a cheap, yummy meal!

We headed to Evora where I wanted to see the Chapel of Bones, which we eventually found. We’d been driving all around it and missed it because the cathedral right next door was undergoing renovation and had scaffolding and masking all around it. We did easily find the Temple of Diana and the Palace, but didn’t venture in. We were heading to Elvas for the night, and needed to get moving! Amazingly, we didn’t have trouble finding the Hotel D. Luis, and were surprised to find an old Roman aqueduct right across the road! What a view!

After freshening up, we headed to a restaurant close-by I had found on googlemaps. We never did find it, but after walking the maze of cobbled streets of the old town, we found one to fulfill out hunger and quench out thirst. It was after 10pm by now: a long time since the “chocos” at the beach. On our search for the elusive restaurant, we found a park filled with orange and lemon trees, with park benches on rollers and a circular track, so they could be moved around to chase the sun in winter or find the shade in summer. None of us had ever seen anything like it anywhere in the world! Amazing!

Dinner was delicious. Max picked out the local specialties and Stacey and I devoured them. (see photos of Elvas) Stacey’s favourite was the pork and mussels, which dates back to Roman times. We drank two bottles of Borba, but sadly they didn’t have any pudding.  Not that we could have fitted it in anyway.

We (accidentally) found a shortcut back to the hotel and agreed to meet at 8.30am in the breakfast room. Stacey and Max have their own room and I have a triple room all to myself. I don’t know how that happened- I was supposed to have a single. I was asleep as soon my head touched the pillow. This is starting to be a habit! I slept in and didn’t make it down to breakfast until 8.45am. I needn’t have worried because Max and Stacey had really slept in. I woke them at 9.30- well, they are doing all the driving! We set off in search of the Forte de Nossa Senhora da Graça; the star fort that we had specifically come to Elvas to see. I was devastated it was undergoing renovation and we were not allowed in at all, even though I explained I had come THOUSANDS of miles from Australia just to see it. The workmen said the Forte de Santa Luzia on the south side of town was open, so we had to settle for second best. Actually it was very impressive; foggy and exceptionally cold. Max stayed with the car and kept the engine running to maintain some heat in the vehicle while Stacey and I explored. We were almost frozen stiff by the time we reached the car and were glad of Max’s decision to keep the car warm! It took a while for us to thaw out.

We took the scenic route to Castelo Branco, driving past olive groves and cork trees. I had never seen cork trees before and was amazed at the variety of goods they make from cork. Shoes, handbags, anything you can name, including corkboards and wine corks! We were planning to stop for lunch here, but forged on to Covilha, where we grabbed a bite to eat in a café.

Stacey decided we’d take the scenic route again (she was driving): this time OVER the mountains- well, let’s say, I didn’t know Portugal HAD mountains this high, with so many granite monoliths rising high above the surrounding plains. The views were spectacular to say the least. My photos don’t do it justice, but I occupied myself taking photos with Stacey’s camera to take my mind off the steep, curving road. And what goes up, must come down and come down we did- Stacey using the gears as much as possible to slow us down and Max commenting from the back seat that the brakes were going to fail if she used them too much, as if I’m not enough of a nervous Nellie already! From the top, we saw a beautiful lake half frozen! WOW!

At last and with the help of our GPS, we found the town of Sao Pedro do Sul, and without too much trouble, out hotel the Hotel Rural Villa do Banho. The lady who greeted us was so lovely and helpful so when she offered us dinner for 12 euro for 3 courses including wine, we had no hesitation in accepting. The dinner was delicious. Onion soup, followed by pork chops, and a delicious dessert in a 5 star setting- real crystal and silverware! We were sharing a quadruple room here, actually two lovely tooms with the bathroom in between. I loved the antique wooden furniture- you just wouldn’t see furniture like this in Australia in any hotel! I slept soundly in my comfy single bed, despite several visits to the bathroom during the night.

It was not enough to stop me eating a delicious breakfast though, after which Stacey and I headed across the street to the Queen Amelia Baths. They’ve been taking advantage of the thermally heated water here since 1894. The water massage was great on our sore spots, but it only lasts for 15 minutes. We had 2 sessions before reluctantly climbing out to get dressed. We’re off to Porto via the Doura Valley, but it took us almost an hour to navigate out of Sao Pedro do Sul.. The GPS was no help at all. It was taking us an extremely scenic route. Finally Stacey used the map and her sense of direction to head us towards Porto. Max drove all the way. We stopped to get petrol and I bought us iced coffees and a packet of chips as I was starting to get a bit peckish. The iced coffee settled my stomach, but had the reverse effect on Stacey. As soon as we reached our airbnb by the beach, she lay down and feel fast asleep. When she woke, she had full-blown gastric. No dinner for her! Max cooked a delicious dinner of meat wrapped round bacon and chorizo, in a delicious sauce with rice and rocket. And of course, the obligatory bottle of red.

It was decided I sleep with Stacey as I had already had the dreaded lurgy, but Max hadn’t.  Poor Max had to sleep on a camp bed in the cold, while Stacey and I kept each other warm with the help of a hot water bottle. I had the worst night’s sleep, waking up every hour, and Stacey got less than I did, as she spent half the night in the bathroom. We both woke up tired and worn out, but we only have one day in Porto so we’re going to make the best of it.

The Lello Bookshop was on my must-do list, but first more practical matters.  We dropped Stacey off at the Laundromat to dry our clothes; I had washed them all in Sofia’s machine, but there was limited drying space, while Max and I went to look for Europcar. We actually found Renault, but by this stage, we just wanted Europcar, so we returned to our airbnb and asked Sofia where the nearest Europcar office was, and how to get there. So off to the Airport we go, collecting Stacey and the dry clothes on the way.

We let Max do all the talking, but the end result was we were given another car, and a bigger one into the bargain. The Renault Clio we had been given in Lisbon was overdue for a service, needed fluids changed and the brakes were worn down as well. Coming down the mountain was fun-not! This one was a two-tone Renault Capitur; orange and beige.

After dropping Max off for a rest, we headed out to the Lello Bookshop. I don’t know whether it was because my expectations were so high, but I was a little disappointed. We sat down in the little coffee shop and I ordered an apple cinnamon tea. Stacey thought she’d better stick to water. Photos were not allowed except between 9 and 10am, but I did sneak one of the stained-glass ceiling.

After retrieving our car from the parking garage nearby, we headed to the place on the map called Historic Spot, and there we found old city walls, and the Luiz I bridge; pedestrians and trams on the top level, and cars on the lower. We walked across the high part of the bridge, listening to the squawks of the seagulls and watching the sun set over the horizon. Portugal sure has some beautiful sunsets!

It was almost dark by the time we reached our car parked on a footpath near the police precinct, but everyone else was parked on the footpath too, so it must have been fine. Stacey wanted to see Casa do Musica, so we tried to navigate our way there. We did manage to locate it, but not before driving (very slowly) all the way down a pedestrian mall. I did say, “Turn left here” but obviously she didn’t!

We arrived back at our airbnb but couldn’t find a park so I hopped out to mind one across the street while Stacey drove the block. Well, half an hour later, she returned, after my saving her several spots, but people just drove in regardless of my standing there, and I just jumped out of the way. Obviously, saving spots here is not the done thing! She eventually parked just around the corner, after driving all over Porto I think!

We heated up last night’s leftovers, and Stacey managed to eat something at last. We went to bed and Max went out to socialise and speak Portuguese with the locals. We were off next day to Luso, so wanted to get an early start, but first Stacey wanted to go to the Case do Musica. She had in fact a whole tour planned and Max and I went along for the ride.

We caught the tail end of a concert at the Casa do Musica, while Stacey was buying some unusual jewellery made of paper. The concert was well attended and the crowd poured out, just as she decided what colours she wanted. We fell in with the crowd, and exited the huge building from a large staircase that’s obviously opened for mass exits.

We managed to navigate to the same footpath we had parked on yesterday, but this time we caught the funicular down to the lower level of Luis I bridge, walked across to the Port-making area and had lunch in a restaurant where the bar was a little fishing vessel called Micha. Super cute. Lunch took forever! I ordered the francesinha, but it wasn’t nearly as good as the one I’d eaten in Lisbon, even though the recipe originated here in Porto. Stacey bought tickets for the cable car, and was given tickets for a free port tasting. We found the cellar, tried some white port, and headed back to the cable car. What a fantastic view of a beautiful city- so beautiful Stacey is thinking about moving here! I’d just like to come back and spend more time here- a day and a half is just not enough!

It was almost 5 by the time we left Porto. Luckily, Luso and the magnificent Hotel Palace do Bussaco is only an hour away, but it was pitch dark when we arrived so we couldn’t see any of the beautiful forests that surround it.

I had high expectations of this place (I’ve had a photo of it as my background for the past 12 months!) and it did not disappoint.  In fact, it was all I imagined and more! (just see photos!) We opted out of dinner (it was expensive and we’d had such a late lunch), but thought we’d try their own wine. They have every year from 2002 onwards. We opted for the 2007 at 6 euro a glass, but it was worth every cent. So smooth and rich!  I’m not good with words to describe wine.

I would have liked another glass, but was starting to feel tired and a little squeamish, so retired to my palatial room with plans to wash my hair. I srated to feel nauseous so skipped the hair-washing but Ishowered, put on the bathrobe, and lay down. It wasn’t long before I was back in the bathroom. I won’t go into the gory details, but I was up until after 3am. I kept thinking there couldn’t possibly be anything left, and there wasn’t, but I kept vomiting. I tried to have a sip of water, but no, it would not stay down. I eventually feel asleep from pure exhaustion and woke up miserable because I was going to have to miss out on the champagne breakfast I had been looking forward to for so long. Stacey popped in on her way to breakfast to find me looking like death warmed up, and informed me Max had suffered a similar fate as mine. We must have both caught it from Stacey at about the same time. I’m sure she enjoyed the breakfast on our behalf and didn’t even have champagne as she didn’t have me to share it with, which was a small comfort.

She went off hiking the forest paths, while Max and I tried to stay alive! I managed to drag myself out of bed and into the shower, but washing my hair was out of the question. I dressed and went back to bed and dozed the morning away. I was too ill to even play my scrabble games!

Stacey roused me after midday and it was after 1 before we got going. She drove to a couple of places she had walked to with views right out to the ocean, but I couldn’t summon the energy to get out of the car, but I was managing to sip water now so I wouldn’t dehydrate. With a couple of navigational errors, we drove to Tomar, the site of the first Templar monastery, as well as the place commemorating the Jewish name changing when the King decided Jews could change their names or flee the country. Many chose names of animals- Max’s surname, Coelho means “rabbit” for example. I sat in a bar and drank a 7-up and ate a big bread roll while Max and Stacey explored the town. At 5 when the bar closed, we drove up to the monastery with views for miles and miles, filled up with petrol, and headed to our next airbnb near Sintra. Once again it was pitch black when we arrived so even though we knew the exact address, we had trouble locating the number. It was in a dead end street and were surprised that a car that had been following us for the past few kilometres had followed us into this dead-end street. As we were driving slowly trying to look for number 13, Stacey pulled over to let it pass- there still wasn’t enough room so she reversed a little and side swiped the wall in the process. Luckily, she took out the extra insurance!

We finally found it and were welcomed by Marianne, a lovely woman originally from Denmark, who lived in England for 20 years before discovering Portugal. She travelled round in a van for 2 years before settling here. She adopted two dogs, Lucky and Bobby on her travels, or should I say they adopted her. She also has a lovely cat named Sasha, who took to me straight away. Cats love me- what can I say?

Max and Stacey headed down to the local café for a bite to eat, but I still wasn’t feeling 100% so I sat talking to Marianne, mostly about cats and dogs! Her sister had a dog-minding business in Denmark. She has a maximum of 4 dogs, same as Keeley, but on New Year’s Eve, she had 10. People left their dogs with her to avoid the noise of the fireworks in the city.

Marianne made me a cup of tea, so by the time Max and Stacey came home with a bowl of soup for me, I just couldn’t eat it. The cup of tea had filled me up- my stomach must have shrunk.

Booby is now curled up beside me on the lounge while the rest of the house is sleeping. It’s a cosy little house with low ceilings and a pot-belly fire to keep the lounge warm at night. I am staring to get hungry now, so I might look for that bowl of soup!

It was our last day in Portugal, and we had a lot to fit in! More by chance than anything else, we started at the Pena Palace at the top of the hill, which, in hindsight, was not the best plan, because we then had to walk back to the Moor’s Castle, because it was a one-way road. This was the original fortified castle and they’ve done great things with it.  I was particularly impressed with the cyclamen gardens, rows and rows of every colour you can name and such depth of colour! The beautiful, healthy cyclamens started me wondering how mine were faring at home.

After that walk, we drove down to the National Palace in the centre of Sintra but only managed to gain entrance into the gardens, which were well laid out and the hedges perfectly trimmed. Stacey wanted to see the Teatro Visuale, which we eventually found only to find it had closed 7 years ago! The pitfalls of an old guidebook! So we headed back to the Palace with Stacey talking shots of the artwork along the way.

The Palace was in the centre of town so Stacey did a little souvenir shopping, while I bought a triple gelato. I didn’t get away with eating it all though- Stacey found me and helped me eat it. I probably wouldn’t have been able to get through it all anyway- it was HUGE! It’s just what I was craving! This time we headed for the right entrance of the Palace, and were immediately stunned by the beautiful ceilings, the first one was swans, then magpies, then blazons, even a mermaid ceiling as a wardrobe for the king. I wished I had a wardrobe that size with or without the mermaids!

It was almost closing when I exited with Stacey nowhere in sight. I chatted to the guy on the door about the history of the Palace and how it fitted into Sintra’s timeline. So many places here to see, but apparently, we had seen the major three, so were pretty pleased with ourselves.

We headed back to our cosy airbnb overlooking the Capa do Roca, the most westerly point in Europe,  to find Marianne entertaining  a visitor, a lovely girl from Estonia, so I chatted to her for a while Stacey got changed into her new Casa do Musica paper jewellery, and we headed out to dinner. Max had located a likely place with good food a hundred metres up the road, so we walked there on his recommendation.

On entering, Stacey and I were both really disappointed as it was just a local bar that served food, but we very soon changed our minds when we tasted the food- the best pork we’ve had so far! After having a beer, Stacey and Max shared a jug of red wine with dinner while I settled for a pineapple and lemon juice (weird taste- sweet and sour at the same time!) I just can’t bring myself to drink wine just yet. Give me time! I didn’t refuse the dessert though- it’s that Portuguese dessert they call pudding but it’s just delicious baked custard! And the total of our sumptuous meal? 17 euro! 

For those of you who haven’t visited Portugal yet, you must put it on your bucket list. The people are helpful and friendly, no town or city is like any other, there’s so much rich history, and the landscape is simply amazing!  My only problem is, now that I’ve had a little taste of it, I want more! 10 days was just not enough!