And the wheels on the bus go round and round ...

Yesterday I arrived in the magical city of Toledo. It was a last minute decision to come here: I figured I had some time to kill, in a sense, as I have no fixed plans other than meeting Bridgy-Didge in a few weeks, and LP did say it´s the number one tourist destination. After being quite impressed with Madrid (and, really, wanting to see if it were possible for MORE people to be in one place - if more tourists means more people) and being unable to get any further accommodation in Madrid, I locked it in. And, not that I need to justify it any further, how much cooler a word can you get than ´Toledo´? It´s like a burrito and torpedo all in one, and reminds me of watching Speedy Gonzales cartoons. So needless to say, I was psyched!

And, an idiot. It would appear that, as bad as I am at maps, I am also hopeless when it comes to reading - at the least, numerically dyslexic. (I know, right, who would have thought?!) Somewhere, my little brain picked up that it was three and a half hours to Toledo. So you can imagine my utter shock when I had barely even settled in for the trip; had barely stowed my overhead luggage; was at a really crucially exciting part in my book ... and we reached Toledo.

Toledo is 28 minutes from Madrid. Just so you know. And I wasted the first leg of my Eurail pass on it, theoretically paying $100 for what would have cost about fifteen on a single ticket.

Genius! What a genius.

So confused was I, so confused by this turn of events, I was sure I must be in the wrong Toledo. That there was a suburb of Toledo connected to Madrid, and I was in it. Loaded down with bags and not a person in sight speaking English, I was starting to fret about being in some Epping-like backwater of Spain´s capital, and having to waste another leg of my Eurail pass on the 28 minute trip back!

It was a look up to the heavens that saved me. No, no - not divine intervention. Screw that - don´t be preposterous! The thing is, when you´re at the train station in Toledo, and you look up you see ... amazement. You see thousands of years of history perched on a hill. You see, possibly, the most aesthetically pleasing city I´ve ever cast my eyes on - if you´re into the whole Roman-meets-Moors-meets-Visigoth-meets-Sepheric-meets-Christian history thing, and therefore architecture thing - which I definitely am. It was stunning! The first thing I thought after being dumped at my hotel after driving to the very top of this ´hill´ was that I was going to get lost, and badly. Toledo is a maze of cobbled, narrow streets running up and down the hill of the city, between stuccoed buildings, cheap and nasty looking restaurants and postcard shops that look the same (in the really touristy areas) and hidden depths if you go around the right corners. With my map reading skills, I spent the whole day lost and confused and in love with this place. And not nearly as many tourists as in Madrid, thank God!

But today, after getting a little too lost to make it to the many museums and places of worth I´d wanted to look at, I decided to catch the trusted hop-on-hop-off bus that has become a regular fixture on this trip. In fact, I have made it my goal that if I can ride the bus in every city I go to, I will indeed buy myself an extra pair of Manolo Blahniks. No shit!! Maybe the gorgeous blue fabric ones with the little flowers ... ok, I´m getting off track. The bus! I mainly wanted to see how the bus would navigate the tight narrow streets that little cars could barely negotiate. And how many people we would kill, as there´s never room enough for pedestrians on the footpaths and traffic. It was going to be an adventure!

It was a little disappointing, in truth.

After paying eight euros (not much, I suppose - it was three times that in Paris) and waiting AN HOUR for one to turn up, all the bus did was drive around the perimiter of Toledo (down the hill, around the hill, and back up the hill) and then the driver kicked us off. And that was it. You can now see why I DESERVE shoes if that´s the kind of tour bus experience I´m putting out for!

Anyway, saw the Alcazar - amazing. Saw the catherdral and a billion other churches. Begrudgingly admit they were amazing. And ate McDonalds cos the food in Toledo is really shit and overpriced. So shut up!! (And it was amazing! ha ha ha)

Tomorrow I am off to Seville. Hurrah! Barbers and oranges and flamenco dancing, here I come!!! And no more rubbish fast food, I promise! Adios!

Ten degrees is still cold. Amen.

So, I learned a precious lesson yesterday: that Spain, though Mediterranean, and ten degrees warmer than Paris, and sunny and without snow, it is also undeniably freaking cold! A blizzard to my bones, to be precise, and I will never make the near fatal (I am sure of it!) flaw of thinking to myself "Gee, sunshine. And itś ten degrees. I might leave my coat at home today and go and sit on an open top bus and freeze my bloody arse off!"

Seriously, by the time I stopped being stubborn and realised enough was enough, the muscles in my legs and lower back were in spasms because I had been clenching them so hard, and I could barely walk! Freezing to death must be agonizing, but I am sure it has done wonders for my butt itself, as I can still feel the muscles burning - like I·ve run ten ks!

But here I am. I have realised my life long dream to come to Spain. Yay! Since 1992 and the Barcelona Olympics, I have wanted to get here (ok - Barcelona to be precise, but though I am very bad at geography I know I am now closer than I was a week ago!) It is kind of funny, therefore, to see banners all over the place for World Youth Day Madrid, for I feel that I would rather be anywhere else than here when that time arrives!! I would rather stick a fork in my eye!

But to be here now is very exciting. Itś a beautiful old city, and when I can finally upload some photos (having a little trouble with more technology, it would seem!) there will be quite a few of just buildings this time - and some more self portaits, cos theyŕe so brilliant! - but the architecture is just stunning. I have spent very little time indoors as the outdoors seems to be the best part of Madrid. But I do have one teeny tiny criticism: why in Godś name is it so crowded??? I would hate to see the high season - this place is literally bulging at the seams. Sometimes I turn to go down a street, and when I see the throng of people cramming that street, moving in a wave towards me, I just turn around and go back. Itś madness! And the queues! So many people queuing, and I cannot even make out what they are queuing for, half the time - all I know is that there are five hundred people clogging the footpath for a block and a half! It is so strange to come from Paris, which almost felt empty by comparison (the buses certainly were) to not even being able to get ON a bus because they are full!

As with everywhere, I have had a lot of fun eating in this city, my favourite place has been a market called Mercardo San Miguel - a degustation market in which the stallkeepers of fruit and veg, fish and cheese and breads (mostly) also stock wine and tapas! I do not know if any one even goes there for the produce, but the wine and tapas are amazing. And they have good cupcakes too! And I will never go to another Starbucks as long as I live after a Spanish woman yesterday accused me of being American because I had a Starbucks coffee in my hand - and would not believe me when I told her otherwise. To the extent that she started banging on about her favourite parts of America - Boston - and if I had ever been to Syracuse, because her neice lives there. So Starbucks makes you American, apparently.

Itś shit coffee anyway, and I should be ashamed. I was desperate, I swear!

Anway, after trying in vain to get tickets to "Los Miserables" - which would be SO COOL in Spanish! - I am out of Madrid and heading to the historical centre of Toledo. And more tapas!!

Technology is the root of all evil. Seriously.

Hmmm. It would seem that I am a little more marooned than yesterday. First it was my camera, now my little baby netbook has shit itself. What IS it with me and technology? No, seriously! I tucked it up all nicely in its little pink cover between use; gave it anti-virus vaccinations ... I'm no expert, the thing itself seems to be working so I'd say its Windows. And I thought I hated Apple ...

So, things just got a little bit more inconvenient - it sure was fun being able to skype and facebook on those long, boring waits for trains, planes and automobiles.

I hate technology. And apparently, it hates me right back!

But it's been another great couple of days - including Christmas. Christmas on one's own can be hard, but there was a lot to keep my occupied, and it all started with food! After Paris, I am starving myself, because all I have done since I got here is eat, and over Christmas Eve/Christmas, I went ballistic - and it was divine! On Christmas Eve, I went out for dinner - a delightful little creperie - before deciding it might be worth it to go to church at Notre Dame. Just cos it's Notre Dame!

It wasn't.

The spectacle was fun to start with: soldiers with machine guns (cos, Christmas spirit and all, what says it better than machine guns?!) And standing room only, underneath the massive organ.

But it was all dowill hill from there. Church actually can get more boring - when you have NO IDEA what they are saying!! So I did it, but I'm not doing it again!!!
Paris kind of closed down after that. For a city that had been pumping since the moment I arrived, from about seven o'clock on Christmas eve, it was a ghost town, and waking up on Christmas Day I was afraid I would see the same thing.

Not a chance!

Paris on Christmas day was thriving. Every butcher, baker and candlestick maker (or chocolatier) was open flogging their wares to Parisienne families for their Christmas lunch. I ate so much fresh produce, I didn't think I'd have time to eat a proper lunch myself. But I did. Foi gras (gross); Chervre crepes (yum!) and tart tatin. Delicious! My mouth is still watering - all washed down with some very nice wine, of course!

After lunch, I went for a four hour walk up to the Sacre Couer, over to the Eiffle Tower and back. Now I have blisters and spent an exorbitant ten dollars on bandaids!! My Christmas Day finished with the best hot chocolate I have ever had at Chez Magots - Ernest Hemingway's favourite drinking spot - and a stroll down the Boulevard Saint Germaine for the Christmas markets. P.s. Magots was a very classy establishment, and I looked like a veritable bucket of shit after a four hour walk in the wind - not to mention my backpacker-style ensemble. It was funny how they turned their noses up at me!!!

Today, I am off to Madrid. It's been quite an adventure trying to work out how in the hell to get to Beuvais airport, so I THINK I am going to Madrid, anyway!

But Paris, don't forget me - I will be back. In just a few weeks, actually, to catch up with some friends. Au Revoir!

I went to gay Paree ...

So, a few things about me you need to know:
My desert island foods (the three foods you are allowed to take with you, in unlimited supply, if you are hypothetically ever trapped on a desert island) are:
1. Bread
2. Cheese
3. Chocolate
It's a no brainer - and it's been this way ever since I discovered a love for carbs, soft goey mould covered cheeses and chocolate (that one was inutero, I reckon). What IS exciting is that Paris is best known for these three foods, in some context, and I haven't stopped eating crusty baguettes, gorgeous bries or chocolate (in crossants, macaroons, crepes - if they make it, I will eat it) since I arrived in Paris yesterday.

Paris is my hypothetical desert island. I lucked out!

Because, in a way, you see, I am kind of marooned:
1. It's snowing like a bitch (was cute at first, now it's a blizzard. Sort of.)
2. I don't have any money, just like I wouldn't if I were trapped on a real desert island
3. The airport taxi made me remortgage my house to get here, so I'm homeless AND can't afford to leave because I can't get back to the airport. Stranded.

But what a place to be stuck in! (Ok, I'm not really stuck and most desert islands are about 40 degrees hotter; my metaphor is coming undone but you can get lost. I've been thinking about this all day!!!) If I can pick any place in the world to have bread cheese and chocolate in for the rest of my life, I pick this place!

I arrived yesterday afternoon after a hellish whole day of airport dramas that proved to me beyond all doubt that Qatar is going to be in a world of trouble in 2022 (and yes, I know that's a long time in the future, but that's just how bad their airport is run). I should have arrived around lunch, and was here just in time for dinner, but the magic of the cold and the snow and the Christmas lights in the world's most beautiful city - I'm putting it on the table - simply took my breath away.

I lost my breath this morning too, when the chill in the air turned my lungs to granitas! Oh my God! I lived in the UK for 2 winters, but it never snowed all day. But when a city is as gorgeous as this one, even after paying 30 euro for a tour of the city, on what I assumed would be a warm, cosy bus, I just wanted to be out there walking the pavement. So that's what I did today; slid through piles of slushy snow from left bank to right bank and back again - in around Paris' most famous landmarks - only stopping for more of the three food staples. I just hope I'm walking enough not to come back a Michelan man - and I mean once I've removed the coat, hat, scarve and four layers of clothing (which makes me very Michelan mannish!)I'm due to leave Paris the day after tomorrow, but I just don't think I can. There's still so much to see: Musee Rodin, Musee d'orsay, Versailles. There aren't enough daylight hours to see it all!!!

So, I may be hitting the road again in two days, and I may not. I guess this is my desert island and I can do whatever I like! (Cheap, corny finish!) What I do know is that tonight, I'm having bread, cheese and chocolate in the form of, well, bread, fondue and delicious crepes. My Christmas eve treat in the centre of the Latin Quarter. Merry Christmas Eve everyone!!

Arabian Nights: Day Four

I have had an enjoyable 24 hours of mingling with other tourists and locals alike. And stuffing my face! After a leisurely sleep in this morning, following a big night of camel pizza (essentially), I made today a day of no spending. I figured I'm going on tour at lunch time, money well spent, and I don't need to buy anything else.

It didn't work.

Dubai is like one giant subliminal message to go forth and shop; I can't help it! But I did spend selflessly – nothing for me, just really cool kitsch stuff for others :-). Actually, the one thing I did buy for myself was a packet of Dubai's famous dates. There are 42 million date palms in the United Arab Emirates, so you can imagine how annoyed I was when I discovered the ones I was munching on were from Tunisia! Kind of dry and leathery too – I will always wonder now if UAE's are any better, but if they're going to import their national product (apart from oil, obviously!) I'm not going to bother finding out!

After eating some more great shawarmas, I was picked up at my hotel for what would become the hightlight of my time in Dubai. Now, I've been on some pretty naff tours in my time – I think they're pretty much obligatory in countries that are trying to sell a concept that isn't really real – but this Arabian nights thing I went on today just blew every kitschy, ridiculous tour I've ever taken out of the water. Except maybe for The Sound of Music Tour! Along with 4 other tourists from the Burj Arab area, we were transported about an hour out of Dubai to hit some serious sand dunes. Called dune bashing, here were my thoughts as we hurtled along:
1. We are going to die.
2. We are going to have a head on collision on the other side of this dune with another 4 wheel drive (there were cars everywhere. Madness!) and die.
3. We are going to have a head on collision on the other side of this dune with a CAMEL.
4. I AM GOING TO BE SICK!!!!
Unfortunately for another traveller in our party, he was sick – quite violently so – and our driver barely even shifted a gear!!!

After the dune bashing, there was camel riding, dressing up in traditional Muslim clothing, smoking a shisha pipe, henna tattooing, traditional bedouin coffee (which I swear was tea) and – most importantly – eating. And then eating again. It was insane how much food they forced down our throats. I am going to need my own chador-thingy soon just to hide the bulge. And it's only been a week!!!

Best of all, there was lots of mingling with other tourists. A really great way to end my time in Dubai.

Snow is still cold in the desert!

What a great day! I got up early to have my coffee before taxiing off to the Jumeirah Mosque – the only one in UAE that allows non-Islamic people to enter it – for a tour, organised through the local centre for cultural sharing and understanding. After an interesting hour in which I had to cover up from head to toe (quite literally – great pics!), I headed back down the road (making sure it wasn't too far or in the wrong direction) to scope out the traditional restaurants along the Aldi Alfi (sic – absolutely no idea what I'm spelling!) to see where I could get camel for dinner. It's on the menu for tonight and I'm very excited – by the by, tomorrow I get to ride one!

Looking at the map and too-ing and fro-ing about whether I could walk to the mall of the Emirates (no, I never learn – let's call it tenacity!), I hailed a taxi and thank GOD I did. Too far?!!! It was about 20 bloody ks!! My mission at the mall? Not to shop – initially - but to ski!

It's a weird thing, skiing in the desert. Even when you look at it, it's hard to imagine that it could possibly be that cold; it's in the desert! I suppose I'm just dumb, because I scoffed when they suggested I buy gloves and a hat, and I scoffed when they suggested I needed more than just a t-shirt under the rather thin snow suit they provided. And I froze my bloody arse off! Actually, to be precise I froze my little fingers off. But was it fun? Yes! And I made some little friends – some children from Saudi Arabia who thought it was pretty cool to talk to some weird, freezing chick from Australia who skiied worse than they did! They made sure they were on every single chairlift I went on, and I learned a lot about the lack of snow in Saudi Arabia!!! (They go to Switzerland every year. Oil. Yeah. Couldn't have been fifteen years older, could you!)

Eventually, I'd had enough of the onset of frostbite in my extremities, and re-entered the mall for some more of what I do best: a new winter coat, a pretty dress and a scarf in the most perfect shade of green. It is lucky I am leaving here in day and a half – I am actually quite surprised Westpac hasn't pulled the plug already ;-). And I have no idea yet where I'm going to pack my new additions in a suitcase that was already bulging at the seams. Side note: girls – you know who I'm talking to – we should have another group holiday. Boys can play golf, and we can shop like nothing you've ever seen, I swear to God. And Jo, you can eat at a restaurant called the Jollibee – pictures to come when I can upload them. There is something for everyone!!!

So, tonight I go to eat camel, and tomorrow I will ride one before going 'dune-bashing' in a 4 wheel drive. I don't generally like tours, but everyone says this is a must – and I have to do something to keep me away from the shops!!! It's been a really good day today; this city is awesome and I think everyone should come here! And I will come too!!!

Oh – last thing. I had my first marriage proposal last night. It was oh-so romantic: a car literally pulled up beside me, the window rolled down, a hand was proffered and we exchanged the usual (or unusual!) small talk – where are you from, what's you name ... would you marry me. It was a very nice car, but I had to decline. His hands were too sweaty and it seemed unlikely he was an oil baron or a Sheik.

Besides which, I don't think I need a green card marriage to move to Dubai :-)

Kate+Maps in Arabic=Extra Special Epic Fail

For those of you who know me well, I think the title of this entry says it all really. You might even ask how I could state something so obvious. Am I kidding? I can't read a Melways, of COURSE I can't read a map that's written in another language! But when the 24 hour hop on/hop off bus pass I'd been cruising Dubai on ran out, and I was summarily kicked off just one stop short of my destination, I thought: one stop – can't be that far. And it probably wasn't. I'll never know now. For, as I sit here writing this entry two and a half hours after I set off from that lonely bus stop, full of confidence that – though in Arabic, it looked like one straight road – my feet are cramped, clothes are thick with dust, and I am, it turns out, on the other side of town from where I should be. Literally – if I was supposed to be going east I am west; north, I am south. I don't know which direction I WAS supposed to be going, so I'm giving you a broad picture.

(I am spatially retarded. And before you chide me for being so politically incorrect, consider how right I am and let it go. Never was a truer word spoken! Amen.)

It's a funny thing, the old tourist map: kinda useless really as, even when some of the roads on the map are written in English, they're Arabic on the roads themselves. Or there are more roads in reality than there are on the map, which is just plain confusing when the best hope you have is to count the blocks you're walking. I was in trouble from the start, as I didn't even get the one straight road right in the first place! In actual fact, I got lost twice, for I eventually did have that moment of clarity where a road with an English name matched a road on the map, and I realised I wasn't in Kansas any more – and I was nowhere near bloody Oz, either. But, ever the resourceful upbeat traveller (honestly!) after quelling my desire to throw a massive hissy fit in front of some Sheiks, which would have involved ripping up my map, swearing profusely, and more tears – which I'm not allowed to do today – I picked another point on the map that I was clearly moving towards, and decided to make an excursion of it. The road I was on would eventually hit the river. If I just kept going straight, I would hit the river too. That sounded nice.

SO WHERE WAS THE FREAKING RIVER???

In summary, I have come to the conclusion that it can't possibly be me. I can walk in a straight line, after all, and I haven't been drinking or smoking any kind of illicit substance. Therefore, as maps are the work of the devil, I am clearly being toyed with by evil. This isn't my fault. This is the universe conspiring to undo me. What a bitch!

To back up this claim, I have as evidence the 7 people I stopped to ask directions of as I realised I was lost again. They clearly didn't know how to get to the river on a straight road either, as they all gave me different directions and none of them got me there. There was a funny moment though when, turning the map upside down on the off-chance it might actually present me with more clarity, a gentleman peering over my shoulder remarked “you're reading it upside down.” Thanks Einstein! He proceeded to give me the worst directions of all!

But I did have a pleasant walk through the city, got to chat to some random people, and filled in a couple of hours in the sunshine. And best of all, I came across another shopping mall that, again, is nowhere near where I should be: east west, south north. (Shopping malls are like an Oasis in this city, and I am liking Dubai more and more!) Beyond this unplanned adventure, I took a trip out to the Palm island today, took in the beach and attempted to get some good shots of Dubai's great monuments – that famous hotel that looks like a sail, and the Burj Khalfi. Or something! Now I am relaxing in a coffee shop with free wi-fi until I get hungry enough to go out for some shawarma. Good times!

And I am definitely taking a taxi home!

A Turbulent beginning.

Well, apart from anything else I have never experienced so much turbulence on a plane in my life. Though only awake for seven hours of the flight, most of that time I felt like I was being shaken like a ragdoll as the plane ptiched in the sky. Not pleasant – but a metaphor, perhaps, for other things. A turbulent beginning.

But I'm now in Dubai, and I couldn't ask for more. Except, perhaps, for a cafe to be open at nine o'clock in the morning! It's Monday morning, day two, and I don't quite know what's going on because I've passed three major coffee retailers and none of them is open yet. No coffee and no internet connection makes Kate a something-something! But apart from their reluctance to serve my favourite beverage – favourite anything really! - Dubai is just … awesome. Seriously, I could see myself moving here. Let me take you through yesterday's events, and you'll quickly see why:

Upon arriving at the hotel, when I asked what was the nearest attraction, I was alerted to the fact that one of the world's largest boutique shopping malls was right NEXT door. And though one should never spend their first few hours in new country shopping, I did. And it was ace! Though the barista at the coffee shop I went into basically spat at me when I asked for soy milk, I quickly found that when you are dealing with really good Arabian coffee, it doesn't really matter what sort of milk you're dealing with – although I do draw the line at trying it with camel's milk. No thanks!

An adventure on Dubai's touristy hop-on/hop-off bus system followed, and I quickly found on this guided tour that the mall next to my hotel was nothing – this place has more shopping malls than you can shake a stick at and they're all incredibly massive and … incredible! It's ok, as most of them are tourist attractions in themselves, so I have legitimate reasons to go there. For example, how could one NOT go to the world's very largest indoor shopping centre? Or one that has a skiing centre attached? But yes, it is getting very hard to avoid the temptation of spending my entire travel savings on these beautiful shops – a perfect blend of the best stores from the US and the UK. I am in heaven.

You can see why I want to move here?

Apart from that – which may have bored the socks of people – Dubai is just incredibly cool. It has a vibe of some ancient city that has literally had billions and trillions of dollars thrown at it, so that it's now both old and hip, too. And the markets! Not talking 'shopping' centres now – spice markets and fish markets and gold markets; bigger than entire suburbs, with every kind of fish you could imagine – it STANK! And the gold market was hundreds – HUNDREDS! - of jewellery stores, flogging 8 karat bloody diamonds in their windows. It was vulgar, it was absurd, it was delightful!

Today I'm off to check out the Palm Island Jurameiah (sic). You can't buy a property for less than 3 million dollars – and they're just the decrepit ones! Actually, nothing in Dubai appears to be decrepit at all. It will involve more shopping malls, but I also plan to check out some really cool architecture : Dubai has two imitation Chrysler buildings. Because it can!

Goal for today: no more tears, and to eat camel. Amen.

On the Road again ...

Hi All,

Well, I interrupt this very interrupted novel-writing blog to digress onto a more European arena - like, literally, THE European arena. Tonight, at approximately 11:30, allowing for clear skies and dilligent passengers and not being held up at customs for my large supply of medicinal (I SWEAR!) codeine, I shall be hitting the sky for Dubai and beyond that the ooh-la-la of Paris.

Geez travel blogs sound wanky!

So if you'd like regular updates on how many belltowers I'm walking up each day to stop the croissants from migrating to my ass; or just how many photos it is humanly possible to take of the Eiffle Tower, feel free to follow along. Bought myself and itty bitty mini lap top today, so I'm going to be oh-so Bohemian and write the great travel novel. That won't be on the blog though - you'll have to pay extra for that!

Now, to home I go to see if I can shove that blasted but beautiful Country Road coat into my suitcase. I ask all gypsies, if they're choosing something to steal this Christmas, to go for the camera or netbook and not the coat. Because I love it!

Au revoir!