Tag Archives: winter holidays

The Adriatic (Credit to Rebecca Cox for photography)

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It was a late August day. We set out under bright blue summer skies in what is generally acknowledged as warm weather in England. It was an eventful journey. After having stopped in a lay-by and bought the usual assortment of refreshments for a journey from Gloucestershire to Luton Airport.

Ryanair EI-DPC taxies at Luton airport

Ryanair EI-DPC taxies at Luton airport (Photo credit: bigpresh)

After a while, though, around Milton Keynes, my mother began to get agitated with “my navigation”. I was responsible for failing to identify three roundabouts that didn’t appear on the map. As it turns out, they weren’t on the map. Anyway, after a heated argument, we realised this and continued normally.

Upon arrival at Luton around six in the evening, we began the check-in procedure. No biggie. Neither was the flight.

We took off around eight and landed at ten. What WAS worrying, however, was that my father, who had set off across Europe some time previously to meet us at Venice’s Treviso Airport, was nowhere to be seen nor heard from. We tried calling his mobile.

No luck. While, initially, I thought this was probably a mobile phone reception problem, my mother began to worry. She began to fear he had had an accident and went frantic.

This lasted for a couple of hours, during which time I had to ask a cop, or carabinieri, for some money to use for a payphone. For the next hour or so, my mother seriously fretted due to the fact that we could not get in touch with him.

To clear my head, I stepped outside. It was then that my father, quite by chance, drove by. This was a great relief to my mother and I. It transpired that he had no signal and was lost. Right now. Time to hit the road.

Its after one o’clock in the morning and we need to rest so the first night will be a “pit stop” in an autostrada, their motorway, service station. The car we were using was a Volkswagen Polo and it was CRAMPED.

I had to stuff my foot through, then wedge my shoulder in and, finally, use levering force to get into the car. Good times! So we arrived at a spot just outside Trieste where the next four or five hours was a combination of restlessness and hovering a round in the shop with some hanging out under the stars.

That was cool! On the road again…We went to see the famous Lipizzaner Stallions at the Lipica 1580 Stud Farm. Lipica’s history is heavily influenced by the Habsburgs who ruled the Austro-Hungarian empire for circa 650 years.

English: Favory Pallavicina, approved Lipizzan...

English: Favory Pallavicina, approved Lipizzan stallion, Australia Deutsch: Favory Pallavicina, gekörter Lipizzanerhengst, Australien (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Horses, especially the Spanish Horse, were valued for both military and commercial reasons. Archduke Charles chose to build the Royal Stud Farm in 1578.

We hung around the stables while being given a guided tour and took photographs. The farm was a lovely place, greenery abound!

The port of Trieste was highlighted by bright Italian sunshine that laid the container ships bare in the light of day. We crossed the border shortly thereafter and promptly found a market on the Croatian side and bought the best grapes I have ever tasted from the lady depicted below.croatia 3 116

It was a hot day and I had my T-shirt off, (wolf whistles) after having stepped out of the car, and strode over to the barrier, from where we could see the brilliant Azure of the water in the bay. I can still remember the radiance of the sun against the tarmac. It was tremendous that day.

The first night at a campsite was spent at a reasonably cheap place on the coast that had a traditional style Slovenian seafood restaurant. Every meal I ate at a restaurant on this trip was dead seafood still looking at me.

Fish dinner

Fish dinner (Photo credit: The Hungarian Girl)

It was a lovely restaurant, surrounded by terracotta houses that, in turn, surrounded the bay. However, I didn’t finish my meal and never got to grips with the cuisine in the region.

The sea by the campsite was crystal clear. As dusk set, we decided to have a dip. It was a good choice. Water that seemed to come out of a hot spring greeted our feet and we were “bitten by the bug”. Pitching the tent was fun and games. It was a two-man tent, which meant my dad had to sleep in the car.

That was interesting. It was a noisy night. We had a group of teenagers for neighbours and they were four or five in number, shreiking till all hours. More than that, there was an equal number of guys to girls. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

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A little while later, we made a stop in a small Croatian town that struck me for two reasons. Firstly, because of the Croatian architecture. The buildings were made of granite and were quite different to those on the Slovenian side. At least in appearance anyway. This could have been Rovinj.

The second reason was that a woman behind the till in a shop was the only person we encountered who recognized my father’s North American accent. We stopped by the waterfront for a while and had a drink there, the cool stone pavement was a relief.

Street Walking

Street Walking (Photo credit: Let Ideas Compete)

We were sat by the harbour. I don’t recall if it was the one featured at the beginning, but it was lovely.

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Later on, in the city of Pula, we saw the roman amphitheatre shown above. The amphitheatre is amongst six of the largest surviving, out of 200, amphitheatres from the great empire and was constructed between 27-68 A.D.

It is also unique because no other survivor has four side towers and all three architectural orders, or styles, intact. Please don’t mistake me for an expert. In fact, that is information off the net and we never went inside. But we got a few good shots of it, laugh.

Split was the best! It wasn’t much to look at from afar. Lots of old soviet-style apartment blocks straddle it to the North and South. However, the harbour and old city were gorgeous. This is a typical scene.

We rested here for a night and spent some time around the harbour. It was paradise.There were tenors singing in the Mediterranean warmth. Heaven.

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Dubrovnik, nestled in the hills, afforded us great views…but it was the residents that were fascinating. The parking arrangement was crazy.

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And so, I’ll leave you there. Bye!

(Credit to Rebecca Cox for the photography)

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I scanned the sky but never saw them. I kept training my eyes through the planes window…did I just see green? I don’t know. I was tired.

But keep looking…no. No sign of them. The Aurora Borealis were elusive this year. Welcome to Tromso!

Tromso

Tromso (Photo credit: Moyan_Brenn)

What was stunning and worth the trip, though, was the sight of the fjord in the grey dusk light that evening, capped with snow on the peaks surrounding and on the Island of Tromsoya, home to Tromso, in the middle. This sight made the trip more than worthwhile.

 

 

After arrival, I headed for the Tourism Information desk and was answered by a nice Norwegian girl, who was typical of Scandinavian beauty, with a pleasant demeanour about her.

I asked for a map of Tromso. It was a worthy addition. Anyway, now for a cab. The fare set me back as it does in this part of the world. My wallet was emptied…completely.

But the ride was only twenty minutes. My accommodation was a small hostel-like affair with four rooms that also doubled as the owner’s family house.

“Home Sleep” for any of you who wish to keep it in mind. Its supposed to be a good location for viewing the Northern lights most of the time, though.

Tromsø from Above II

Tromsø from Above II (Photo credit: Adrián Pérez)

Upon turning up, I gazed at the house and noticed that it looked as though nobody was home. I walked up to the door and knocked. No answer.

After a brief conversation over the phone and having asked next door, we  agreed that Samuel, the co-owner, would be home shortly. No prob.

Tromso

Tromso (Photo credit: Richard H Martin)

Ok, so we’re in now. As for the room, very comfy. More than expected. Samuel assures me that it is possible to see the lights from here. I smile inwardly and ask Samuel about the buses.

There’s a stop outside apparently. Not far. From here, I can catch the bus into the centre of Tromso. Its an idyllic place.

Right, next morning, after having tried to view the lights in the city the previous night and getting spectacularly lost, I caught the bus.

A VERY interesting experience, due to the fact that my hostel was above the town on a hill with a sloping gradient towards the fjord. At least it isn’t towards a concrete building.

Then left along the water’s edge and into the centre of town. Now we can see the sights of the place. I should note the bus was full and the roads were sheeted with thick ice. The driver had to sideslip the vehicle down the slope. Great fun!

English: A road bridge at Tromsø, Norway

English: A road bridge at Tromsø, Norway (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There’s The Polar museum, with a concrete footprint identifying where Roald Amundsen set off from here on his expedition to the North Pole.

The museum has exhibitions about much of Norway’s arctic heritage, such as whaling and seal-hunting expeditions, including the old ships that were used on these adventures.

We have an arctic cathedral made of wood. It’s small and cosy. Then there’s the library with signs in about sixteen different languages, most of them Inuit, the post office and, most importantly, many Northern Lights tours. Sadly I had to hope they would come over the town.

They didn’t, but there are organisations that will take you overland or by boat to locations where a better viewing opportunity is probable due to clearer weather.

Be prepared to fork out though, the cheapest deals are about £82 for an adult and the most expensive is about £200.

Details can be found on the web, particularly at www.visittromso.no where details of boat, bus, minibus or photo excursions are displayed.

Flights to Tromso via Oslo from London  and on to Trondheim from Tromso plus back to London again cost me about £250.

If you wish to find a hotel in Tromso, there is a reasonably-priced Radisson or, if you want to go low-brow, you should be able to find a hotel from £100 a night.

The Radisson is right in the centre of the town. Trondheim…for a night. After a short flight from Tromso, I find a cab and have the driver take me direct to the hostel, a shabby place right in the centre of the town.

It turns out, however, that a seven-eleven is nearby and the city centre as well is close. Trondheim’s most famous landmark, the cathedral, is on the opposite side of town.

It’s a worthy experience too! With a stained-glass window of purple and reds, a sinister Gothic appearance and a low entrance fee with a cafe and gift shop area, its a must-not-miss.

Nidaros Cathedral

Nidaros Cathedral (Photo credit: kjd)

The cathedral was formed around 1070 and was an important place for Catholic pilgrims in northern Europe until the Reformation, since when it has been the cathedral of the Lutheran Bishops of Trondheim.

And so, after hanging around the central station for awhile-it was bitterly cold-I headed happily for the airport.

I found a nice Norwegian girl to talk to in the gate area and, after a short flight, pitched up in Bergen’s airport terminal lounge. Leather reclinable seats too!

And finally, home…happy times!