GALLIPOLI

The second part of the Türkiye experience was a trip across to Izmir that I was able to achieve by doing a 3 day tour covering Gallipoli, Troy and Ephesus. I’m not huge on fine print or details so what I was unaware of were the other great places the tour covered including the house of the Virgin Mary, the ruins of the ancient city of Pergamon, the ruins of the Temple of Artemis and the tomb and church of St John.

It started off a bit oddly by being picked up early at my hotel into a full mini bus. We took off for Gallipoli and I thought there’d be an introduction etc but nothing. Anyway, long story short, this bus trip was just to get us to lunch where we met up with a couple of other bus loads and then we got on to the bus that was our tour with other people that weren’t even on the original bus. Turns out that this company do tours of many key sites and you can pick and choose what you see, where you start and where you end. Quite handy to be honest.

So, tour 1 – Gallipoli. Burak (?) was a young guy, shirt with no sleeves, tatts, cap on backwards, long hair. And I got caught in the first impressions trap. Turns out that this guy was incredibly good. Cracked gags that were actually half decent, was amazingly knowledgeable and drew on all sorts of favours to find a Kiwi soldier who died in the campaign for one of the ladies on the tour. He succeeded to put the pieces of the puzzle in place to find him and make this womans day.

As an Aussie you’d think there wouldn’t be much more I could learn about the invasion. Well that was wrong as wrong could be. When you get most of your information from popular culture I guess you’re bound to get things wrong. For example, the landing crafts were not shot up by Turks waiting in the hills. In fact, it was only a hunch by Atatürk that resulted in the Turks knowing the ANZAC’s were there and by then they were well up the beach hill. So one tick to the tour. The second tick was about how I reacted to it all. In 2019 I went to France and that moved me an awful lot. Now while I wasn’t moved as much I was moved more than I thought I’d be. I was looking at the beach they came up on, I saw the hill that they climbed, the patch of land they fought on at Lone Pine and I walked through the trenches they fought from and how close they were to each other. It was frightening to imagine and it resulted in some pretty sombre thoughts. I had a high appreciation of the lads that fought there before I visited but it grew even more after it.

However, there are two other significant things that I took away from there. One, we must never forget that this was an invasion. We invaded Türkiye. And for those people who claim Australia has never invaded a foreign territory prior to the Gulf Wars then you are wrong. We may have been under direction of England but we were an independent country at that time. So we must think of the Turks (or technically the Ottomans) at this stage. They sacrificed way more soldiers defending this peninsula. And remember that they were dragged into the war because England refused to hand over two battleships that the Ottomans had paid for. And when they took up an offer from Germany to supply alternative boats the English declared war. Not a few decades earlier the Brits and the Turks were allies and now they were not. Pretty sad what the Brits did to so called friends.

Secondly, Australia and New Zealand lost around 12,000 troops. Very wasteful and tragic, however, we lost 46,000 on the Western Front. And in Gallipoli the Brits lost 21,000 men and the Turks lost a staggering 87,000 in a battle they didn’t even really want to be part of.

Australia and New Zealand gained an identity at Gallipoli but we really need to be careful that the story doesn’t descend into mythology. It’s a good enough story to not need exaggerations. And I think we also owe a debt of gratitude to the Turks for allowing us to establish a place of pilgrimage (ie, monuments and renaming the beach ANZAC Cove). Could you imagine us allowing Japanese pilgrims come and celebrate the bombing of Darwin or the torpedoing of Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs?

And I think we also need to recognise the amazing words of Ataturk, Türkiye’s first leader and a soldier on the peninsular. The words he spoke about our troops are enough to bring any grown person to tears:

Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives … You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side here in this country of ours … You, the mothers who sent their sons from faraway countries, wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land they have become our sons as well.

What amazing words to say. Truly beautiful and is probably why so many Turks still love him.

The other beautiful story that comes from the post war is that of the Lone Pine tree. An Australian soldier took a pine cone home with him and grew it successfully. And then recently they took a cone from the Australian tree and grew it back at Lone Pine continuing a loop and cementing even further the ties between the 2 countries.

Gallipoli was never in my top 10 places to visit and it was just by a quirk of fate that I ended up going there. So glad I did. It is a pilgrimage and I loved hearing the facts of what actually happened there. That night I stayed in a beautiful waterfront hotel in Canakkale. Looked like a great town and a beautiful spot but it had been a very long day and I just could not get enough time to explore.

ISTANBUL

My preconceptions of Türkiye were not dissimilar to those of Morocco – dangerous, fundamentalist, crazy. Well, one of three were right – it is crazy.

Istanbul was the first stop and my first impressions were that of my hotel transfer mode of transport. I can only describe it as an ex-drug dealers van all blinged and lit up in the back. It even had a safe in it!!! Along with the safe there was a fridge, leather (I think) seats, fake wood panelling. Anyway, he got me to the hotel in one piece so I can’t complain.

The hotel building was a tiny little thing (but the room itself was spacious) in the back streets but it turned out that it was near a lot of the big sites. But brekkie was first and I got my first taste of how expensive things are in certain parts of Türkiye. If you buy anything near a hotel or tourist site it costs an absolute bomb (ie coffee for $11).

The next impression I got was how oppressive the heat was there. It was more the humidity than anything, very similar to Singapore to be honest. I was absolutely dripping before the tour of the Topkapi Palace and stupid me was short of a bit of water. But this did not stop my enjoyment of the Palace which is in stages or Gardens. The further you go through the closer you come to being in the presence of the Sultan. But what was pretty cool was that the first garden was open to the public and still is today. You only need a ticket if you want to go further in. Mind you, you don’t get to see the Sultan because the Palace and the Sultan were no more after the break up of the Ottoman Empire after the defeat of Germany and it’s allies in World War 1 and the establishment of the Republic of Türkiye. It is pretty much a museum these days containing many rooms. The rooms I went through were:

1. Imperial Clothing which was pretty funky  with some incredible looking clothes, serious level of detail, amazing boots that looked more like something from the crazy 70’s and these coats that were enormous with such immaculate detail.
2. The Harem where the wives, the concubines, the Sultans mother, the female slaves and the eunuch slaves lived. And when I say lived, that was it, they did not leave there. The concubines were from far and wide and quite often did the bargaining and lobbying for their respective countries. I wonder how they did their lobbying??? But basically the life of those in the harem extended nowhere beyond the harem. They were, to be blunt, sex slaves. What a god awful existence.
3. Imperial Treasury – the Ottomans were as much about excessive bling and wealth as the courts of Europe and the UK. I have a love hate with these sorts of displays. Just wonder what the “people” would have preferred, more food or more bling for the Sultan?

One of the buildings had a view across the water to Asia (the continent at least) while we were standing on Europe. It is one of the reasons that Türkiye is so intriguing, important and only one of 5 countries that do. It made it a very strategic place as well with the Romans moving their capital there as it expanded East. That stretch of water we were looking over was the one that Sultan Mehmet II crossed in order to take the heavily fortified city thus beginning the Ottoman Empire. The walls were so thick that no attacking force had penetrated them prior. It was the advent of an almighty massive cannon that could be fired more frequently than previous canons that enabled Mehmet to break through the walls. Well, it was that and the fact that the literally carried their boats over land to avoid the chains that were blocking the entrance into the narrow channel. Yes, carried. How determined. It’s amazing what can be done when you put your mind to it. You kind of need to close your eyes to imagine what it would have looked like as it was now full of cargo ships but it is pretty cool to realise that this world changing event happened just down there.

It is a crazy city, a bit like some of the Asian cities with a European bent and heavy Middle Eastern influence. Walked through the Grand Bazaar which was a lot more modern than I thought it’d be. I was imagining and oversized medina but instead they were covered and quite orderly in layout. Mind you, outside the walls of the Grand Bazaar where the markets extend it does get a bit more haphazard and chaotic. Most of the stored are just repeated over and over but there are a few that are unique. There is a whole section dedicated to books which was a bit useless for me as I can’t read Turkish but it was interesting for a few reasons. Firstly, I saw a copy of Hitler’s Mein Kumpf in Turkish which I am not sure was funny or a bit of a worry. Secondly, I found a map of Turkey which I bought. Love a good map. And finally, there were the cutest kittens hanging out there and they let me get some beautiful photos.

The next day I did the big 2 – Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia. OK, going to be a bit controversial now. The mosque is just another amazingly over the top mosque similar to the one in Casablanca. I just struggle admiring it when I think of what the money could have been used for. It is the same as the big European cathedrals and palaces. But as a piece of beauty is something very special.

The Hagia Sophia was originally a massive church until the Ottomans took control and subsequently converted it into a mosque for the people (the Blue Mosque was more for royalty). It had been destroyed and rebuilt several times over the years and I must admit it was a little tired. So on one side we have this beautifully maintained royal mosque and on the other we have a very rundown peoples mosque which includes a few Christian images. So you can see how the people came a very distant second to the royalty. Also, muslims do not allow images of people in a mosque so most of the Christian art work were covered over or removed. They left a few upstairs away from the prayer floor which was fortunate. Apart from the age, the historical significance and those few images the building is not much chop.

We went to the Basillica Cistern which was really something out of this world. Basically, a massive water storage building. The architecture was stunning with rows and rows of of arches and the cavity created would have been filled with water from an outside source for the city. They would have had fish in there as basically an aquatic canary in the coal mine. No longer used as a water supply it has been used in many movies and was an incredibly popular place to visit.

That night I had an encounter with a nice enough guy who turned out to be a carpet seller who wanted me to be an intermediary for his Australian imports. I got out of it after feeling well under pressure but it did cost me a couple of hundred – I bought one of his silk scarves. Oh well, at least he pointed me in the right direction for a good feed. The price we pay. So I survived Istanbul and was so glad I visited. There would be days more of sites that I could see so I would come back for sure. I would also be a bit more prepared for where to get food and coffee that won’t break the bank.

BERGENSBANEN – OSLO TO BERGEN TRAIN

With all the travel I have and will be doing it is a pretty sure thing that there will be some flight delays/cancellations etc. Well, it was now that it would happen. I was due to fly from Florence to Oslo but in two legs with a small change in Amsterdam. Long story short, the flight was delayed and I was unable to connect with the Oslo flight.

The plans were that I would fly to Oslo and spend the following day looking around this city and then catch the train the next day to Bergen. So, what do you think the rebooked flight was to Oslo? 9am flight from Amsterdam to Bergen (yes, Bergen) then change for a flight to Oslo landing at 4pm there leaving not a lot of time to look around. And then first thing next morning I train it back to Bergen. You couldn’t script anymore ridiculously hey.

The thought did cross my mind to just leave the flight at Bergen and skip Oslo (and the train ride) altogether. But I am so glad that I didn’t do that option because the train ride from Oslo to Bergen has go to be in the top 5 train journeys, surely. You climb up into the mountains, passing lakes, rivers, snow (yes, snow), waterfalls, small towns, remote houses. It has everything and is breathtaking every bit of the way.

It was while we were at the peak of the journey and the snow was still on the ground that it dawned on me that in the 2 months I’d been away I had seen the sand of the Sahara and the snow of Norway. It was a pretty cool realisation to be honest and I was so grateful that I had the opportunity to do it.

BERGEN

Bergen is a nice city of 280,00 people on the west coast and is very, very patriotic, not of Norway but of Bergen. Our tour walking tour guide informed us that a common thing you will hear from locals is that “I am Bergen first and Norwegian second”. And the non-Bergens will say to those visiting Bergen, “Make sure you take your passport”.

All of that aside Bergen was lovely. I had 2 full days there and from what I can understand I was very lucky to have one sunny day. Two thirds of the days have rain so having a 50/50 I was actually statistically lucky.

The first day it was a tour of the old part of the town including the castle that remains a royal residence today when they are in town. There are some buildings there that are a bit crooked and are now UNESCO protected and any repairs need to be done in a very special way. In fact, being so close to the water they keep sinking and as such they need to raise the buildings back up. They in fact raise them higher than they need to as they know they will sing again.

On the royal family, they are reasonably liked but the princess is being, well, a little princess. She’s about to get married to an American swarmi, which on it’s own is no problem. But what she has gone and done is have the local Vodka producer sponsor the wedding. Again, on the surface this is a good thing especially because it may reduce the cost to the people for a royal wedding. But when you realise that alcohol advertising has been banned in Norway since the mid 70’s. It appears that some of the royals in Norway think they are above others. Sounds all too familiar hey.

Bergen and fire go hand in hand. With 250 days of rain every year you wonder how this could be so but the fact that timber and not stone is the primary building material and the fact that the buildings were built so close together made it a hazard in the making. Some of the buildings will have a series of years written on them representing the year it was originally built and the years that it was rebuilt after a fire. Very little of the town has been unaffected. Today the neighbourhoods need fire break streets but having seen them I would be amazed if they were wide enough to stop a fire to be honest.

The highlight on the first day though was the discovery of the food stalls permanently set up on the habourside. It was great, affordable food stalls in the more expensive part of the city. But what made it the highlight of the day was on the menu. There was a Moose Burger, Reindeer Hot Dog or Stew, Whale Burger among other things. I skipped the Whale Burger but had a crack at the Moose and Reindeer. The Reindeer Hot Dog was just like any other hot dog to be honest but the Moose Burger was very nice. It had a sweet sauce on it, a bit like Cranberry, but the combination of that and the meat was very good indeed. But fish and seafood is their thing. Every second food stall was seafood of all kind. They do love their seafood.

The second tour was on the other side of the harbour which was a mix of the very wealthy and the very rough (though the rough has very much been gentrified now). It was also the home to the witch trials and killings in this city that went on in the past when we didn’t have explanations for why certain things happened and we needed (wanted?) to find some to blame (the last killing in 1695). Many women, and a few men, became scapegoats for these mysteries which I guess appeased the populace that the “cause” of these bad things had been taken out of the society.

Like Sydney the old working class residences have been scooped up and renovated into some very wealthy properties. They were beautiful streets and a lot showed a throw back to the trading past with streets named after the countries people who would have lived there in the past.

THE FJORD

In the afternoon I took a boat ride down the fjord which, despite the poor weather, was amazing. All along the journey there were these little villages and I did wonder what on earth these people did for an income. And then even more bizarrely were a huge number of single dwellings out in the middle of nowhere on their own. I couldn’t even see roads in and assumed that it all must have been accessed by the water only. Anyway, the scenery was magnificent especially as we headed down the narrower river to the start of the Fjord. Absolutely stunning.

I often thought while I was in Bergen that this would be a great place to live and then I remembered the 250 days of rain, snow on the mountain in the middle of summer, the temperature rarely getting over 20 degrees and then thought, “nice place to visit”.

PISA

My aim with Italy was to get smaller towns in Tuscany and avoid the larger cities. Therefore, Pisa was merely a stopover. In saying that I managed to get a hotel – or more accurately, a dog kennel – that was right across the road from Piazza die Miracoli which is home to numbers 1 to 4 of the top 10 sites to visit in Pisa with, of course, the leaning tower (or the Bell Tower) being numero uno. Now here is an entrant in “what crazy thing can we do to attract tourists (see the longest town name in Wales in the previous story). Build a beautiful bell tower and you may get some interest. Build a bell tower with dodgy planning, footings and workmanship, have it slope out of control and all of a sudden you have an entire industry for this city.

The crowds here are huge. Mind you, the other 3 sites are truly magical as well and worth a look for sure. But I have to say the funniest thing is to watch the people well away from the tower entrust their family on directing them where to stand and hold their hands in order to take a photo of them “holding up” the tower, one that will be taken a million times this year alone. A very entertaining watch.

But this day started very interestingly. I was awoken at 5.40am by Thali ringing from home all excited. She wanted to let me know that her soccer team that she started playing for this year won their first game of the season. She was absolutely pumped and so was I (despite the early hour).

Then, while I ate a very yummy gnocchi with red pesto sauce in a delightful Pisan garden Ethan rang to tell me that he had just scored 128 not out to help his team chase down 250 odd to win. I nearly choked and I did manage a little scream of joy. I was so happy for him.

But then it got sad as I regretted not being able to see either one of them notch up these achievements. I have always seen these type of milestones and now I didn’t. I’m 1000% sure the kids understand and probably think nothing of it but there’s a bit of me that thinks they would have liked me or Katharina to have been there.

And then there is the travelling alone. It’s been 25 years since I’ve had to do that. I thought I’d be fine but not so. My fear of flying has returned big time. My nervousness about getting a cab. My fear of not being able to communicate due to me not knowing any Italian. It was a really trip over for me.

But then I walked down into the Piazza and saw these amazing structures and I wandered streets with gorgeous windows and balconies on the surrounding buildings. Then I sat next to a garden of lavender and ate a beautiful meal. And then I saw these amazing structures again in the golden hour light. I then realised more often than not you need to struggle or work hard to get to see something magical. If it comes to you easily, on a platter, then it may lose some of its glory. The journey, and the struggles of a journey, is very much part of the experience and can most definitely enhance it.

SAN GIOVANNI VALDARNO

Had a little walk around Pisa in the morning before getting a taxi to the train station. Things went well until the train missed the connection in Florence. All good after a mild rush of panic. Got another train which took me there even though it was a little longer.

Struggled to find the hotel for a while but eventually worked it out. Turned out to be a little apartment, a huge step from the pad in Pisa. Nice.

SGV was a tiny town and totally empty when I arrived. What I later found out was that I was witnessing the quiet afternoons that the Italians (among others) are known for. It’s like everyone had left. I had a little wander around and found a few places to get coffee later.

I came to Italy to sit around drinking coffee and chianti on a piazza while watching the world go by. And on day one I was able to do this at a nice café that made very good latte (finally and even sold 0% beers.

Dinner that night was not quite up to expectations but was pleasant enough. Had the planned glass of chianti which was very nice. She threw in a lemoncello for good measure.

Another day of walking around taking photos and I thought I may as well join in and have a snooze in the afternoon. It is a great idea. Went to my café for a coffee and a couple of beers and watched as the piazza slowly came alive.

Later that night I stumbled on a nice restaurant that wasn’t on the main piazza but I could get a good view of it and then proceeded to have the most beautiful evening. The waitress (the daughter of the chef) took pity on me as the menu was in Italian and she kindly went through each dish and explained what they were. I chose the beef, sliced thinly with rosemary. Sooooo good. Had a couple of glasses of wine. Things were pretty slow and despite the protestations of mumma my host chatted with me about all things Italian, especially there in the Arno valley or Valdarno. I could look over at the piazza and see the kids playing and this was 9.30pm by then. In this one meal I ticked off a lot of what I wanted to see.

In the short time I was in SGV I was able to see some of the local characters. There was the old very thin guy who would walk past the outdoor diners asking for money. There was the old lady who would sit drinking coffee at my café until around midday and would then walk home. In the afternoon she would then sit with friends at a different café. At 5 every afternoon a group of elderly men met at the fountain and would talk. The brassy old duck with her dog would come in to the café and say “ciao” very loudly to each person there.

There was a routine in this town, one that involved a lot of coffee and/or wine. But that was only there for something to do because the real reason was to catch up, check in, gossip and generally catch up. I’d be guessing mental health issues among men were not as high as in Australia. They seem to talk a lot more than us. And at one stage I witnessed a heated blue between some younger guys that lasted about 5 minutes. Then the agro yelling morphed into chatting, laughing as if nothing happened.

I am so glad that I ended up here. I wasn’t meant to but it was chosen in a forced change in plans. But here I saw the slower, more traditional Italy and it was so nice. When I told my waitress friend that we have no piazzas in Australia she said “Where do you meet?”. I had to say that it was in the pub. A sad comparison really. One was outdoors where the kids could kick a ball and people could stroll and chat. The other is inside with too much alcohol and the sound of the poker machines swallowing peoples hard earned.

AREZZO

Arezzo saw the continuation of the “watch the world go by” tour, and it did not disappoint. Arezzo is quite unique I think in that their main square or the Piazza Grande is not flat but rather on quite an incline. But this did not detract.

Piazza Grande is a hotch potch of different of different architecture all pieced together in what seemed a random style but it did seem to live in harmony. It actually worked.

The town is much bigger and far busier with tourists than SGV. But like SGV everything stops in the afternoon and slowly starts to get active after 5. I got into a nice routine of visiting tourist sites until just after lunch, going home for a snooze before heading out to the Piazza Grande at 5 for a beer or two, back to the hotel for a shower before going out for dinner about 7.30. I must admit I was enjoying it a lot.

Now my last dinner in Arezzo was one of the most enjoyable evenings so far. I was in a gorgeous little street, old buildings all around, everything I imagined and wished for on this trip. A couple then sat next to me and being Italy by next to me I mean practically on my table they were that close. Anyway, I was enjoying my dinner and 2 glasses of house Chianti when all of a sudden the waitress poured me a glass of the wine my neighbours were drinking. He had requested her to pour a glass “for my new Australian friend”. And boy was it nice. Turns out they out for his partners birthday. But it’s now my 3^rd glass!!! We got chatting and had a great laugh. Turns out he was a rugby player, front row and to be honest I could have easily guessed by looking at him. Then, in the spirit of the night, he recommended I try this particular dessert which included this local spirit that was as powerful as rocket fuel – but quite nice. Needless to say I was in quite a state now that I have not drunk for the last 10 years. Serious wobbly boots on. And to top the evening as I went to pay the dessert was not included. My dear friend had agreed to pay. What a legend. What a night. Loved it.

I then went to take some night shots of the town I have enjoyed for the past few nights. However, it was while I was on the shoot that I lost my travellers card. Luckily no spend was on it when I finally realised I’d lost it. Did not deter from the night I had.

Walking the streets of Arezzo was so good. It’s an old city, hundreds of years of history, but the people have continued to live there and these buildings are still used as shops and houses. They didn’t see a need to rip them all down to build modern ones. Instead they adapted the insides and slightly adapted the way that they live. Mind you UNESCO had a part of preserving parts of the city but that was only since about 1998. But it is so nice to see big chunks of these towns are still like they have been for years. Of course, the outskirts of the city are modern and, to be honest, uninspiring, but that’s fine as long as the historical areas remain.

To sit outside with my back to the café and facing the street/piazza/water/whatever has become my go to position  for eating and drinking, something we don’t do much in Oz. But I intend to do it wherever and whenever I can. And I’ll blame Europe for it.

My preconception of Wales was that of an old country, a bit hard and tough from their coal mining history, extremely patriotic and the all have THE most amazing singing voices. And of course the accent. Like the Irish they speak with the most magical melodic accent, well except for the guttural LL sound which does make you think they are about to hoick phlegm all over you.

But lo and behold I could not really confirm or refute these preconceptions because we only visited North Wales and it turns out that North Wales is closer to Liverpool that it is to Cardiff and from what we saw it was full of Liverpudlians, Mancunians and even Yorkshiremen and women. So no beautiful Welsh accent to be heard and I didn’t attend a church service, or their other major religious event, a rugby match so alas no chance to hear the singing. So it became a bit hard to assess.

However, here are a few things that I did observe:

Firstly, the Welsh are still very proud and nationalistic. I’m no expert on Welsh history  but in brief what I do know is that it was native people up until about 800AD when the Vikings did what they did best and invaded. Then in the late 1,200’s England liked the looks of Wales so they did what they did best and they just took it off them and pretty much held it ever since. However, the Welsh did not make it too easy for them with several revolts of varying impact and intensity but they made it very clear that they were Welsh first and British somewhere down the list.

The other piece of national pride is their language. There are dual language road signs (something I believe that Australia should adopt with indigenous names) and the language is still spoken commonly enough from what I heard. In a small town we watched one of the Euro 24 games and the younger guys there were speaking it. Wales is officially a dual language nation and it is compulsory for 5-16 year olds to learn it and I for think that is great.

Secondly, they have a sense of humour. There is a town in north west Wales that had a name 20 letters long with 3 vowels, 2 Y’s and there are 3 LL’s. But this wasn’t enough for one smart tailor who decided to lengthen it somewhat, well 38 letters to be precise, making it now 58 letters long, the longest name in the UK and Europe. Just for the record the longest is the 85 letter town in the Hawkes Bay, NZ. And the reason this tailor did that? To attract more people. And it sure worked. On the day we visited there were 5 bus loads who visited the gift shop near the train station which has the full name on the platform. This fact won me a bet as Al thought I would be the only one there taking photos.

This town is in Angelsey which is an AONB or an Area Of Natural Beauty. They’re very descriptive the Brits but this is really a beautiful area. We made it out to South Stack lighthouse and technically we saw a Puffin bird but due to insufficient binoculars (ie none) we could not actually tell them apart from the other birds. But still, we were told by very lovely people, who were seriously kitted out with bird watching paraphernalia, that they were there. Pretty pleased with that. And I later confirmed it when I zoomed in on a few photos I took, you could make out blurry Puffins.

I did come to one conclusion that day and that is the lighthouse joins the list, alongside a steam engine, of things that are more magical to be looked at than to be in them. The view from the lighthouse was very special but it did look amazing sitting on the headland in the sun. By the way, this list is quite extensive but would include The Opera House, The Harbour Bridge, Statue Of Liberty.

The history and the workings of this lighthouse were very interesting to hear about. Now no longer needed due to GPS they are now merely magnificent buildings on some prime real estate reminding us of a time gone by where they saved thousands of lives and dollars of cargo. And those that operated these pillars of light were now merely tour guides reminding us through interesting anecdotes of the workings and importance of these structures. Mind you, the walk back from the lighthouse to the carpark involves a large number of uphill steps making it probably the one workplace that people were dreading 5pm coming.

Thirdly, there are some very beautiful towns to visit. Conwy and Caernarfon were great towns with cute little streets. But my hope was resting on Bangor, a tow on the side of a river with a grand old pier and a University. But it also has a song, a song that was a minor hit in the late 70’s and played often on Countdown (very popular music show in Australia).To say that it hasn’t quite stood the test of time is an understatement of meteoric proportions. Let’s be blunt, it is a shocker. But it is a wholesome song describing a lovely day out in Bangor with a lover and their friends. It talks about having “lunch on the and all for under a pound” and “on the way back I cuddled with Jack and opened a bottle of cider”. As I said, wholesome, but yes, a shocker, but it was my shocker and I wanted to visit this town. And I saw these two lovers as we went and visited the Victorian pier stretch out over the river. And I saw them walking from the nearby pub with their bottle of cider. OK the town was nothing spectacular and I won’t suggest you visit, unless of course you know and love this song as I do and you have a wild imagination like I do. The you will truly have “a lovely time the day we went to Bangor”.

Finally, they love the outdoors, which is surprising really considering the weather they usually get but there are hiking shops everywhere. But a more unique thing we encountered was Bearded Men Adventures (go see point 2). They offer all sorts of activities such as kayaking, white water rafting, archery and axe throwing. Yes, axe throwing. But our choice was the slightly tamer canoe ride down the canal. Boring I hear you say but wait, there’s more. The course we took takes us over the highest navigable aqueduct in the world. It was built in the 1880’s and was to interconnect with a network of waterways to provide transport of goods across the UK. But that railway thing was soon invented and these aqueducts and canals were left to just look good, for rich folk to punt down them in long canal boats and eventually for ageing Aussies to canoe across them. It was pretty damn impressive as we paddled over. An amazing feat of engineering towering above the River Dee (ok 38 metres but geez it felt a lot higher than that).

There was another feature that was very unique. Portmeirion is, well, I’m not sure how to describe it to be honest. It was a village designed and built by Clough Williams-Ellis and consists of buildings and open areas of all shapes, sizes and origins. It is brightly coloured, has beautiful open areas and looks out over the river. There appears to be no rhyme or reason to where buildings, statues and gardens were placed. I wouldn’t say that it is beautiful architecturally but it is beautiful in its folly. Clough was a self proclaimed architect but I’m not sure that architects would be in agreement with him. Reading some of his thoughts about what he was doing would bring most to a different conclusion as to what Clough really was. But all that said and done, go and see it. It is fun, colourful and really is a beautiful walk around the village and along the river and through the forest nearby. But as to the contribution to architecture I would suggest that this village was more nutter inspired than architecturally inspired.

So Wales was fantastic but I will say one thing first – it was good weather. I am sure that Ireland would have been as good if it had received the same weather. But Wales was great and opened my eyes, that is, North Wales is more English than anything else. But I think the Welsh would be ok being British if they were left alone, allowed to speak Welsh and occasionally smash England in Rugby.

Well what can I say – wet, windy and bloody cold. Lived up to all expectations unfortunately. But…through all of that I can still see that it is a very grand country.

Bear with me, the next bit of verbiage is important. The history of Ireland as far as I can make out is as follows. The Celts were here for, like, forever. Christianity came quite early (around 400AD) with St Patrick there at the start of it and in the process granting the Irish people with a humdinger of a party holiday. The Vikings come in and pester them from the late 700’s and keep pestering for another 400 years with Dublin being founded in that time. To get rid of them the Irish foolishly sought the support of the English king Henry II. Well that simply resulted in the English laying claim to Ireland and hanging around like a bad smell for the next 700-800 years. Fast forward to the early 1900’s the Irish, under the banner of the IRA, decided to ruffle feathers and push for independence. From 1912-1921 the War of Independence raged until finally a treaty was signed which included the establishment of the Irish Free State or better know to me and you as Northern Ireland. This was viewed by the leaders of the IRA as the best deal they would get and will bring the bloodshed to an end. But others in the IRA did not agree and it was all or nothing resulting in a decade of Civil War. (Those of a certain age will, like me, be all too aware that this desire to unite all of Ireland led to decades of bloodshed. And the existence of Northern Ireland was also the monumental headache of Brexit but I won’t go into that.)

So as you can see, a very chequered history and a history of not having self rule until this last 100 years. But, in my unlearned opinion, it has produced a very strong proud people with a love of music and a wicked sense of humour. But it is not an ugly type of strength but instead they are fun, very polite and would do anything for you. And their national phrase is “thanks a million” as well as variations of “no worries” (I do wonder if that is where the Australians get that attitude).

The buildings are interesting. Some very nice old ones but nothing of the grandeur of England or Europe which alludes to the fact that the English didn’t think much of this land.

The countryside, whilst I did not see it at its best, definitely looked incredible. A carpet of green inland, river after river, beautiful bays and harbours and their crazy Atlantic coast. That coastline sat in tropical waters millions of years ago but now sits in a ferocious raging ocean battering the Cliffs of Moher (the Cliffs of Insanity in the Princess Bride).

But music is what really stands out. The Irish punch above their weight with music. They’ve produced some pretty big names and influential names at that. But it is not so much that but the music in the bars and on the streets. It is everywhere and more often that not is damn good. Along with the music is the sense of humour. They are a dry, quick witted bunch and always keen for a laugh. But can you blame them. Look at their history. You would either go nuts or, you would have a great laugh and sing some great music. Or as they say, have a craic. I’m really sorry we did not see Irelands land and sea scape at it’s best. But we definitely saw their people at their best and that was very warming. If you could guarantee good weather I would love to see the countryside at its finest.