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Menin Gate - Ypres

7/13/2016

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​Located in the heart of Ypres, Flanders, built by Sir Reginald Blomfield, lies the most famous Commonwealth war memorial - Menin Gate.
 
Tens of thousands of soldiers passed through the gate on the way to the front. Most did not return.
 
The gate displays the names of 54,896 soldiers who went missing between the outbreak of the war and 15th August 1917.
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The gate was too small to hold the names of all the missing. A further 34,000 are commemorated on the panels of the Tyne Cot Memorial in Passendale.
 
Every evening at 8 pm the Last Post is sounded. http://www.lastpost.be/

​The Last Post was a bugle call played in the British Army (and in the armies of many other lands) to mark the end of the day's labours and the onset of the night's rest. In the context of the Last Post ceremony (and in the broader context of remembrance), it has come to represent a final farewell to the fallen at the end of their earthly labours and at the onset of their eternal rest.
Excerpt from The Last Post Website, more details here.
​
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​What it meant to me
The service was moving, but somewhat different to the stories I had heard from others. A few people had built it up to be 'extraordinary' going into raptures about how 'you MUST go there.'
 
Noel and try to avoid extolling sights we've experienced to others - even wonderful things. We may say how much we enjoyed it - but we rarely tell people what they 'must' do. We are all different and enjoy different things - I've often found that when someone insists you see/go to/visit a certain something, the build up is such that it is actually a disappointment. Hence, we let people make up their own minds.
 
Thought Provoking
Menin Gate wasn’t a disappointment, but it was more thought provoking than moving. We were glad we had avoided the service on ANZAC day, we would have been two miles down the street away from the actual service behind thousands of people. The day we went was crowded enough, with people fighting for prime standing space, a forest of arms stretching to the sky clutching mobile phones, recording every moment. Tall tour guides shoved their customers in front of anyone that dared to give way and then stood at the front witnessing from a prime position, a service that they must see most days.

Respectful
The announcer asked that we not clap. After all it was not a show. But what spoilt it for me was all the filming. As well as asking people not to clap, they should state that no filming and picture taking should occur. I found this terribly disrespectful - not because we couldn't see anything behind the forest of arms - but we were there to remember and be thankful for all those that paid the ultimate price for us - it's a moment in time, in a ceremony, where we should just 'be'.
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My 'Alone Time' Was Moving
I found a quiet morning at Menin Gate far more moving. No tourists pushing and shoving for prime viewing. No cameras clicking, a sea of raised arms videoing, well, a sea of raised arms! There was no music, no reading – but there were no people (well one or two). There was quiet contemplation, just the poppies, the heartfelt messages that made my eyes sting, the names carved in the stone to read and remember. The peace, the magnificent memorial and the messages were bought it home to me more than, what's become, the touristy service.
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Park walks
The best way to explore and discover Ypres are the walks or cycle paths.
 
For the Heritage Footpath simply follow the bronze signs, the ones with the outline of the Cloth Hall, the cathedral and the Menin Gate, located at most of the street corners. It’s about 5.3 kilometres long and provides the most complete footpath in the Ypres inner city.
 
For the Ramparts Route follow the sign-posts (map* from tourist information in the centre). This route is about 2.6 kilometres long and a comfortable 90 minute walk. As you meander there are 23 information panels explaining the different aspects of the Vauban Ramparts. Ypres Ramparts are the best preserved walks in the country, built ten centuries ago.

*Check the signposts/information carefully, we found some of the signposts a tad confusing.
 
The Natural Reserve (The Palingbeek) was located in the frontline, in WW1, right in the centre of Ypres Salient, which was defended by the British Troops. This area was hit several times by underground mines from both armies. When you read about the Great Mine Warfare it is enough to make you shudder and shake your head with the amount of suffering they all endured. I shed a tear for the soldiers.
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​The Flanders Fields Museum
The museum is located in the Cloth Hall right in the centre of Ypres. This is an award winning museum which underwent a major refurbishment for the centenary of 1914-1918. The museum features the latest technological applications such as touch screens, video projections, an interactive Poppy Bracelet (for your language), and sound-scapes.

There’s also a café and free internet. The costs are very fair for such an amazing look back at our past:
Admission Charges - Individual
  • Adult: Euros 9,00
  • Age 18 to 25: Euros 5,00
  • Age from 7 to 18: Euros 4,00
  • Age under 7: free
 
More than war memories
Ypres is a vibrant city full of scintillating wafts to set your olfactory senses into overdrive – waffles – ice-cream – chocolate factories.

With the coffee comes a mini platter of small chocolate treats, a biscuit, a small glass of rich and creamy advocaat – a proper feast!
 
Belgium, of course, has some fabulous beers – the blonde brew we found quite sweet, so we stick with the old favourite Juliper – the biggest selling beer in Belgium.
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What’s next?
France is next. A quiet canal, some painting (always keeping one step ahead on a boat maintenance wise) and quiet contemplation of our next big adventure…. Selling the boat and heading home to Australia.
 
Have I mentioned my boys?
​

More pictures around Menin Gate..

Pictures on our bike ride around the city
Pictures around Ypres city
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Italy to Belgium by Bike - Star Trek Portal

7/11/2016

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We were back in that Star Trek portal.
 
Crossing the border back into France, no one tail-gated, cut us off, or tried to share our lane. I had thought France had a reputation for bad driving – but Italy wins hands down!
 
A roadside B&B was located for €60 including breakfast and our cold cuts/Mediterranean supplies fed us for the evening. Both our heads were spinning with the big day on the bike.
 
We had planned to take back roads for safety and stay another night somewhere on the way home if we had to, but Noel woke up saying, 'I think we can get home today, the roads are so much better.'

So that is what we did. It was a huge day, we went from south to north France (and obviously back into Belgium). At one point we indulged in a twenty-minute kip on the grass at a service station. It was special to share the sheepskin under the sun with my
best buddy.
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Picnic lunches on the way home, from the top box supplies.
​We’d been blessed with the perfect weather, just one day with a couple of showers while on the bike – but many days of rain were forecast, so we wanted to reach home before they set in.
 
At 6:30 pm we made it home to Ypres to find the boat sitting there quite happy awaiting our return. Smelling sweet and in good order, within fifteen minutes we were unpacked and sitting in our favourite comfy chairs. The satellite for TV was up in minutes, taking a bearing with a compass and/or lining up an appropriate mark (antique shop sign) meant, we pointed, turned on, and voila - all was ready in seconds. No hollering out the window, 'left a bit, right a bit!'
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This is actually Dikmsuide (where we spent winter) - but here's our lovely home.
Exhausted, happy and not quite believing our holiday was over - slept on and off the following day listening to the pitter patter of rain.
 
Italy was incredible, but then so was Switzerland… but Italy stole our hearts. We are back in Ypres, planning our next escapade, by boat this time.

Next: Meningate

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Italy to Belgium by Bike - Therapy part two!

7/9/2016

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I wrote before about my three-day self- therapy session on the back of the motorbike en route to Italy, where I traversed the entire gamut of my memory.

I had three days on the back of the bike to face once again and I really didn’t want to listen to myself for so long, again.

It was easier this time around as we had already ridden for one day spending a day in Florence. We had two-three days to reach home though.

‘A friend’s wife used to read on the back of the bike.’ Noel said, when I was making mutterings about how to shut my head up while seated behind him.
​
‘I can’t use the Kindle like that, if I drop it I may kill someone!’ I laughed. Although it wasn’t a laughing matter.
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Not quite us - but the set up is similar - I am very comfortable! (Image “Senior Bike Riders” by debspoons - freedigitalphotos.net)
I found a paperback at the camp site we had stayed at and decided to give that a go. I sat on the book when I first hopped on board. All good there, it couldn’t move, it couldn’t even breathe!
 
After a few hours of watching glorious scenery scoot by, my brain started to think of things I didn’t want to listen to. Carefully I eased the book out. 
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There’s a fair bit of space between Noel and I. My seat is ergonomically comfortable. Knees bent just right, back straight, and plenty of room.  I don’t hold on to Noel, or anything really. Only when he has to accelerate or brake quickly do I clutch the pannier bars to prevent me slipping forward or back. The large panniers behind my calves and back make a safe armchair feel – indeed I almost fell asleep at one stage!
 
The book was protected from the wind behind Noel’s back and with each page turn I took my time. It worked beautifully. I could read enough to escape into another world.  Sometimes I was surprised to look up and remember we were hurtling along a motorway. And I didn’t have to listen to myself at all!
​
Next: Star Trek Portal
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Italy to Belgium via Pisa!

7/7/2016

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 With our Mediterranean dinner, we chatted about how lucky we were to see what we had today in Florence.

There was a negative moment that marred the day, but only briefly. The marathon through the city had made an interesting aside, as they ran back and forth through streets, streets we had to cross. You took your life in your hands, they would not stop for anything - and I mean anything!

I was pretty disgusted with the runners by the end of the day. A frantic ambulance with flashing lights and sirens blazing waited to cross a road and not one runner would stop. After several minutes, a few locals tried to stop the runners - eventually some of the ambulance occupants climbed out of the ambulance, with extremely stressed faces, and tried to stop the runners. It was shame the police had to become involved.

I was stunned. Someone could be dying, in any event, someone was seriously hurt and needed help quickly - yet, they would not stop.
 
I was appalled at the time, but later, sitting with throbbing feet and weary limbs, the glorious sights we’d seen over-rode all negative feelings. We climbed into bed and instantly was asleep. The loudest thunderstorm and torrential rain and hail woke us up. Floods of water ran down the bank, snow piled up around the cabin and our beds shook. But we were safe and dry and soon fell back to sleep.

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We packed up early, stomping on snow, care of the massive hail storm during the night.
 
Leaving Florence was a nightmare of beeping horns, roadworks, and a zillion people with dead-pan expressions all unhappily trying to drive somewhere extremely important. After an hour we were back on clear, fast roads. It was time to head home.

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We'd seen all we came to see.  Or had we?
 
‘Let’s have a quick look at the Leaning Tower of Pisa.’
‘Okay!’
 
We tapped the destination into the TomTom and scooted off beneath the sun to Pisa.
Of course, we did the touristy thing - but the area was filled with good cheer and fun - on our brief interlude with obscure buildings.
But now we wanted our own bed and to leave our bank balance alone for a while to recover.
 
Next: Therapy Part Two!

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Florence Made Easy

7/5/2016

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​Our plans were to visit Michelangelo’s David at the Academy Museum and stroll around the Uffizi Museum. After that, we just wanted to enjoy the city, the sights, sounds, and probably the tastes.
 
We were staying at the Camping Village Panaramico in Fiesole, which overlooks Florence, in a clean and comfortable, but small and basic mobile home. It was costing just €45 a night.
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There are several options to reach the heart of Florence. The campsite reception has it all figured out. 
  1. Walk into Fiesole town centre before 8 am
    1. Via the scenic route (about 2 km)
    2. Via the quicker route (about 1.6 km)
  2. Catch the courtesy bus into Fiesole centre after 8 am

​Then catch the no.7 bus into the heart of Florence.
 
They gave us a full bus timetable (to and from Fiesole) and another schedule for their courtesy bus, and a fistful of maps. I knew by the end of the day we’d be making use of their free bus up the hill, back to our accommodation.
 
Accompanied by twittering birds, the following morning we walked the 1.6 km into Fiesole centre for our first coffee. By now we craved coffee - Italian style. A strong shot of sweetened black tar and a croissant or panninni, at the bar, in just a few minutes - quick, tasty, and satisfying.

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The no. 7 bus arrived on time, dropping us in Marco Square twenty minutes later with the Academy Museum literally around the corner. We joined the queue with just fifteen people standing in front of us. As we took our place, the doors opened and ten minutes later, around 8:30 am we were staring at David.
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The statue is of David from the story of David and Goliath.
​
He is made of of one single block of marble from the quarries in Carrara in Tuscany, one of the whitest in the world. He weighs 
5,660 kg or 12,478.12 lbs. 
Many experts have tried to capture why this statue is so intriguing. But first let me confirm, it is utterly absorbingly and wonderfully intriguing. You cannot help but to stop and stare and stare. You walk around the proud man, (noting his particularly round buttocks) and stare once again.
 
What hit me was his frown, the crease between his eyes. I noticed the veins, the folds in his, ahem, private area - so real.

'I can't believe he's captured his fear so well,' Noel said.

​I looked again. His actual eye-balls show fear and I cannot say how. I cannot fathom how it is done - this is marble, not a pencil where an eraser is handy  - there's just one shot at it.
 
It is truly remarkable and worth every penny, effort, and motorbike-sore-bottom to see.

The remainder of the museum is full of plaster casts of other statues, remarkable in their own right. And three-dimensional paintings that leave me dumbfounded, capturing the silver light. But once again we returned to David and stared. Two hours soon passed and the museum was filling up.

We left with big grins, fighting through the throngs of people trying to enter.
 
The day was bright, and the temperature rising. We were hungry, although it was only mid-morning. Back at Marco Square there are a couple of fancy eating places. But walk down a side street – namely in the opposite direction of the Museum from the bus-stop, passing a colourful patisserie on the corner, turning left, about five shops down there is a wonderful
cafe that rotisseries chicken and beef. The roasted beef was ready exactly the same time as our arrival.
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'You are early, but I like you, so you can have a sandwich.'

We munched on a freshly roasted beef and aubergine sandwiches, and thick, rich coffee and a bottle of water each – all for €6 in total - delicious.

We sat in the square and ate our feast, deciding where to go next.

Walking towards Uffizi museum we took in the buildings, the side streets, the way Italians live. It was a fascinating blur of grand architecture and passionate people.
Of course there is the tourist side.
Noel and I joined the queue at the Uffizi Museum. By now, all the tourists were up and out and the queue was long – two hours long apparently. For a few Euros more you can buy ‘no-queue-passes’ so that is what we did, from the ladies carrying a sign offering this service.

We meandered through the massive building, awe-struck with heart-capturing alfresco paintings on the ceiling; Venus of Urbon by Titian, Madonna of the Goldfinch by Raphael, Doni Tondo by Michelangelo, Judith and Holofernes by Artemisia Genileschi and of course The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, plus so many more……

Enjoy the walk with us in these photos…

With aching feet, a short stroll away we found the information centre, who pointed us to a ‘reasonably priced’, supermarket where we purchased our Mediterranean meal for the evening.
On the way to the supermarket, we came across an incredibly old olive tree in the middle of the city - with rather a poignant message:

The plaque says:
The olive, this generous and vivacious Mediterranean plant, mythological symbol of holiness and of great values, and has the emblematic capacity to regenerate its productivity although it has suffered events do (due?) nature or man.
The association “Georgofili – Lambertesca”, together with the collaboration of the Georgofili Academy, have planted this olive tree (250/300 years old) so as all passer bys will remember the barbaric act that took place on May 27, 1993, and that all those who suffered will be in our minds and hearts.
A little more than one hour after midnight on May 27, 1993, a massive explosion echoed throughout Florence. It was a true case of domestic terrorism. Six people died and thirty-three were injured, you can read about it here.

​Back at the bus stop the heavens opened as if to wash the day off. The bus was on time to Fiesole and the following courtesy bus carried our weary limbs up the last part of the steep hill to our accommodation.
Uffizi Museum costs/opening times: Note: The first Sunday of each month is free admission for everyone!
​Academy Museum costs/opening times.

Next: Pisa!
​

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Italy to Belgium by Bike – Fiesole!

7/3/2016

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High up on a hill sits the town of Fiesole. It looks down upon Florence allowing you to enjoy the view of one the most beautiful cities in the world, without the smog and bustle!
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Fiesole had been recommended to us, so we went directly there, hoping to find accommodation as we approached. What we found, as we got nearer, were working girls on the side of the road. And I don’t mean farm girls!
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As we sped through the last of the countryside before the cities, made-up girls gave all the passers-by a smile and a wave. It was quite an incongruous site!
 
We now had internet on our phone, tethered to the laptop. Stopping on a narrow road, we searched AirBnb for accommodation. There were some great places, but they wanted our ID again and wouldn’t accept our European credit card. So I tapped in B&B. One kilometre away, around €40 – perfect!
 
The TomTom took us via the narrowest road in Italy. Which was fine, except the lane was two-way and the other drivers thought we were invisible. Quite a number of unprintable words were muttered into both our helmets.
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The campsite location took us up and up further into the hills and offered cabins, mobile homes, as well at actual campsites. For €45 a night we opted for a mobile home which was clean and comfortable, but small and basic. We just needed a bed, we were enjoying our Mediterranean diet of cold ham, cheese, olives, bread, and tomatoes. We'd miss out on a cup of tea, but we could live with that. Or buy one in the café.
 
We sat on our small veranda surrounded with grand trees, planning our one day trip into Florence.
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Next: David and Goliath – but David…oh!
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Italy to Belgium by Bike – via Florence!

7/1/2016

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With muzzy heads and full tummies we left a little after dawn, but the glorious morning provided all the impetus we needed.
 
But we left with some melancholy.

We've visited many and varied places around the world. Only a smattering of these places could be home. But, Tornelli was different. It was like stepping back 100 years ago (as I've mentioned before). The area is stunning, peaceful, welcoming and a real balm for travelling souls.

So with emotions churning and ideas stirring into that mix of ‘would living here be a good idea?’ we hopped on the bike and made way for Florence.
 
How can you go to Italy and not visit 'the most beautiful city in the world!'

We stopped briefly at a war memorial, eating an ice-cream for breakfast (a great hangover cure) - and enjoyed the cool air of morning.

We had our heart set on reaching Florence in one day. We were nervous of the motorways, but we loaded the TomTom with two routes, so we could opt between fast and dangerous or slow and safer.
​
The main route was smaller and relatively clear, so we hunkered down, ice cream in our bellies, memories in our minds.
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Continuing on the theme of good hang over cures, after a few hours we stopped at a motorway service station for a quick pick me up. Hot chocolate was on the menu and a delicious, thick, creamy food was served, it certainly wasn't a drink! 
​
Fortified we zoomed off once again into the throng of Italian drivers with Florence calling.

I wonder if we’ll return one day.
 
Next: Fiesole


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