Friday, May 27, 2005
Athenes
Ca fait une semaine que nous sommes arrivés. Nous sommes hébergés par des amis de Kevin qui vivent dans un très bel appartement dans le Kolonaki, le XVIeme d’Athènes. En une semaine, nous avons beaucoup marché, erré dans des musées incroyables (le musée Benaki en particulier, aux collections de costumes traditionnels a n’en plus finir), vu du marbre de toutes les couleurs et… fait la queue dans des consulats. Nous devions nous occuper des visas arménien et russe en particulier. Arménien parce qu’il est or de question de l’obtenir en Turquie, et russe parce qu’une autre amie de Kevin (cet homme a des amis bien placés) travaillant dans une ambassade a Moscou s’était arrangée pour nous faire envoyer une invitation par l’ambassade d’Irlande.
L’ambassade de Russie est un bâtiment classique protégé par des grilles ou l’on entre selon le bon vouloir de deux gardiens nonchalants en lunettes de soleil et chemise entrouverte. Il y a un guichet pour chaque opération, l’ambiance est studieuse et fébrile. Le personnel ne parlant pas anglais, nous communiquions par gestes, en silence. Au bout de quelques minutes de gesticulations de Kevin au guichet, une jeune femme blonde au demi sourire est arrivée pour nous dire que « tout va bien avec votre visa, il n’y avait pas de problème pour vous ». Et elle a tourné les talons. Le lendemain, les visas étaient la comme promis, nos passeports remis en silence par une Natacha ne parlant toujours pas anglais. Et nous voilà dehors. Tout simplement. On n’en revient toujours pas.
Le consulat de Georgie était d’un tout autre genre. Un appartement poussiéreux au premier étage d’un immeuble, plein de gens entrant et sortant à tout moment du bureau de jeune (et charmant) consul. 15 euros, fait en deux heures. Bientôt les européens n’auront plus besoin de visa pour la Georgie. Le consul était ravi de nous voir. On a même cru qu’il allait nous offrir du vin quand Kevin a mentionné les vignobles géorgiens, mais la bouteille avait disparu.
Le consulat d’Arménie était du même type, en un peu plus organise. Une charmante dame libanaise était à l’accueil, de plus en plus chaleureuse à chaque fois que nous revenions. Elle n’avait été qu’une fois en Arménie, mais disait que là-bas les gens étaient adorables, et que tout avait un goût différent…
Le consul était jeune, chauve, portant lunettes et doté d’un sourire d’enfant. « J’ai toujours rêvé de visiter la France… J’espère que vous aimerez l’Arménie… Bon voyage ! ». Pour le coup, c’était 85 euros et une journée d’attente.
Je suppose que c’est le vrai début de notre voyage. Des consulats, nous allons en voir beaucoup dans les mois à venir….
Demain nous partons pour les îles. Et après, à nous la Turquie…
Solène
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Volos, Greece
the Italian Job is over, we were chased from Malta through Sicily all the way to Bari by one or other religious feast invariably involvong marching bands, 20 local lads straining the gut carrying a 3m tall solid wood and silver religious effigy, and celebrants who speak too long whilst the aformentioned lads go from one shade of puce to another.
The best and most incredible was in Bari though, where in Saint Nicholas Cathedral (Magnificent Italian/Norman romanesque cathedral, no more baroque please), the venerated bones of Santa Claus himself lie in the crypt. Apparently up until 800 or more years ago he was happily lying in some part of western Turkey until a couple of Local Lads from Bari (no doubt the ancestors of the aformentioned purple coloured bearers) snatched them in a daring grave robbing incident.
So they celebrate it by building this fabulous crypt and wonderful shrine. It was a bit wierd, worshipping stolen goods. Anyway, its a popular church for weddings, and the crypt is dedicated for use by the Russian Orthodox Church, for whom Saint Nicholas (and all Orthodox Christian religions) has a special place in their creed.
The thing was, that there was a wedding going on in the cathedral, while the Lads (in this case the police force and fire brigade etc) were arriving on the piazza outside complete with Saint Nicholas' 3 tonne effigy escorted by the obligitory marching band and pealing bells which were complemented by the sirens of all police cars in the city (which were all in the piazza of course, I actually saw Customs officers on the beat earlier that day). And as if that wasnt enough, there was a full on Russian Orthodox veneration of Nicholas downstairs in the crypt belting out fantastic choral stuff.
Well of course it was all going to come together at some point. The lads danced the statue around the piazza a few times to the band, while the Russians came out of the crypt in full voice, marched straight through the cathedral (ie the wedding) and arrived on the piazza just in time for the police sirens etc.
then Saint Nick went inside, and the wedding was postponed (bride and groom shunted to one side in disbelief, and all in laws and guests as well) as the whole of Bari Vechhia filed in to the magnificent Cathedral, to give praise to Nicholas, the Police and Fire Brigade, and not to mention their Russian friends who had followed Nicholas back into the Cathedral, the primate of the Russian Church blessing everyone at random on the way in followed by the cloaked and bearded priests and younger curates. It was only a matter of time until they broke into another Orthodox song. Bride and Groom, and families and friends, were left shrugging and pouting in that 'you know what can you do' way, as if if was normalish.
I dont know if there were any later recriminations about the Bride being a little too late but it all worked out in the end. the Bride and Groom had their photo taken with a freshly venerated Saint Nicholas, and the marching band had hung around outside on the Piazza to ambush them on the way out with a rendition of 'Volare'. So alls well that ends well.
And we were on our way-
so we have travesed the Adriatic from Bari to Igoumenista, on to Ioannina home of legendary brigand Ali Pasha (more weddings, Greek Style,) on to Kalambaka and Meteora home of the Monasteries on top of those 600m high rocks. I think they used one in one of the addidas/nike/puma football ads recently.
Spectacular places themsleves, but rambling down below them along the myriad of ancient mule tracks is as good. Snakes, tortoises, mental lizards who tend to jump in front of you rather than away... lot of walking in the midday sun as you probably gathered.
The Pindus mountains, Metsovo and the Katara Pass are spectacular, but we didnt manage to get up as far as the Vikos Gorge, north of Ioannina (pronounced Yanana, by the way), next time I hope.
On for a bit of exploration around the Pilio peninsula before bracing ourselves for Delphi. Looking forward to getting to Turkey, and a bit of time gathering ourselves in Athens-
til next time with more -
Volos, Grece
Apres une journee folle a Bari ou nous avons assiste simultanement a un mariage catholique, une adoration de la statue de Saint Nicolas avec procession et fanfarre et une celebration russe othoxe... dans la meme eglise (la mariee n'etait pas contente), nous avons pris le ferry pour la Grece. Changement de decor, soleil de plomb, barrage de la langue.
Mais sourire toujours present.
Nous avons passe un jour a Metsovo, dans les montagnes, avec vue sur des pics enneiges et des toits de lauzes, puis direction les Meteores, monasteres perches sur des rochers. Apres deux jours de grimpette, nous partons avec de jolis souvenirs: des eglises peintes a fresque aux personnages severes, les loukoums du monastere de la Sainte Trinite, les tortues et les serpents sur le bord du sentier, des hirondelles folles, des amandiers, oliviers, des jardins de rosiers, de la viande grillee le soir et du yaourt au miel...
D'ici quelques jours nous devrions descendre sur Delphes puis sur Athenes.
Voila, c'est tout pour aujourd'hui...
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Lipari
Apres trois jours dans une Palerme survoltee, nous voici dans les iles eoliennes. Volcans, bains de boue ( on sent encore le souffre), soleil de plomb... Genial!
And if you cant understand french we are in the quiet Aeolian islands after a noisy sojourn in Palermo and we are surrounded by volcanoes, thermal springs and we still stink of sulphur after taking the waters...onour way to Stromboli to see some real lava tomorrow night....
a la prochaine
Taormina
Nous sommes alles voir le Stromboli avant hier. Jets de lave, fumee, deux heures de grimpette heureuse et de descente dans la cendre au sein d'un groupe de 20 personnes dont 2 hollandais a moitie fous et un guide version instructeur de l'armee americaine.
Superbe, tout simplement. Du haut d'une ile, l'horizon courbe rend la Terre toute petite. Et quand elle gronde a vos pieds comme ca...
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Images de Malte
Monday, May 02, 2005
Magic Malta
So here we are in wonderful Malta, the island off the coast of everywhere else. It is a completely unique place, one of the most densely populated places on the planet, with an almost arabic/north african feel to the language and alleyed towns outside of Valletta, yet still an absoutely baroque and catholic country. I suppose I am a bit biased in my love of Malta, as I worked here on an IAESTE program for BCS back in 1996.....lots of great memories.
http://www.mapquest.com/maps/map.adp?formtype=address&searchtype=address&country=MT&addtohistory=&city=
We've been to Paris, Strasbourg, Marseille, Corsica, Rome, Napoli, Salerno/Amalfi Coast, Sicily/Siracusa and now Malta. So we have more than a few blanks to fill in...
I am going to start from here and work backwards (and forwards) with the blog as things can be funnier when they are fresher! I'll be using Fragrant Vagrants for general observations and happenings, and using the 'Vague Rants' blog for little nuggets of detail on people and thoughts and happenings.
Anyway, Malta has to be one of the friendliest places on the planet. We are lucky of course that we are being hosted with old friends of mine. They also happened to be getting married last weekend and we were allowed to witness the event - which was pretty incredible. 
The wedding was in fort St. Angelo near Vittoriosa, one of the Three Cities east of the Grand Harbour overlooked by Valletta. (Valletta is a Baroque City and a World heritage site, one of the earliest examples of urban planning when layed out by the Knights of St.John in the late 16th Century as a celebration of the defeat of the Ottoman Turks). Fort St. Angelo is actually owned by the Knights of St. John, and as such it has its own autonomy within Malta (something between an embassy or ambassadorial residence, and the UN in NY) and is run and maintained by the Knights. I wasn't aware that there were Knights active still, or even that you could still be invested a Knight -as far as I know the title is not heridetary and Chastity (celibacy) is a requirement of the order. You maybe invited to be a Knight after years of being a friend to the Order (everyone I think knows the Order Of Malta Ambulance Corps etc.). So if anyone is interested in becoming a knight, there is another way..... the picture on the left below is from Valletta, the day before the wedding, you can make out the Marquee on top of the Fort.
There were about 550 people at the wedding, which is quite normal for a wedding in Malta, there was 600 invites, so it was quite a good turnout. Mat surprised and delighted all by crooning his way through 'Just the Two of Us' with a Jazz band backing group and then continued as MC for the next two hours. I believe he could turn his hand to being a presenter on Italian TV, no problem. Ingrid battled through the 550 odd greetings with an unshakeable smile. We met a great crew of people, many sons and daughters of Maltese emigrants come home from Germany and Australia and the States. Certainly things are booming in Malta at the moment. But there are a fair amount of immigrants here too, Austria, States, China, Belarus, Yugoslavia, which must be pretty tough breaking into the village life of a small island...
The food was great, (Mats cousins were catering) the booze was fantastic, the DJs were excellent (Chris, the best man, no speeches!) and the only person I met that I didn't like at the wedding was someone who mistook me for a waiter....
things are chaging pretty quickly over here. Years of tradition are being pushed aside and the new international is arriving. It is all getting shaken up.
Mat and Ingrid's wedding cake is a nice example of the new and the old. Mat is one of the younger designers pushing the Maltese Design envelope....(Ill tell you more about M&I's amazing house in Vague rants) The Cake Created by Mat's catering cousins, the cake was a minimalist masterpiece - all the more impressive in a country where the Baroque style hasn't quite worn off (check out the buses). There was serious concern among the caterers that people would think that the cake hadn't been finished yet, not without the prerequisite Bride and Groom on top and loads of inticate filigree lace type icing....... 
Anyway, we spent the last week recovering from finishing the various leftovers from the wedding, including the open bottles left from the bar, (Mats Negroni mix is great - 1/3 gin, 1/3 Campari, 1/3 Martini Rosso and a splash of tonic, magic....) and treking aroung Malta and Gozo. First evening (after washing the car three tims to get the egg and shaving foam off it) we walked up to Laterno Cross to take in the view - next day it was Clapham Junction and Dingli cliff and on over to Mgarr (im-jarr). Clapham junction is a place where the are cart ruts ( of indeterminable age) just randomly traced accross the rock at the top of Dingli cliffs. there are prehistoric graves and other bits and pieces around. We proceeded driving around the island checking out some excellent coves and headlands, and generally just ambling around. I liked , Gnejna Bay, west of Malta...Solene had a go at another watercolour, not so successful.
While we were there, a truck carrying a skip arrived, and lowered it into the water off the rocks. The skip seem to be entirely filled with concrete yet floated reasonably well, the top staying about 15cm off the water with 4 people and an out-board motor on board. Then one of the chaps lit up the motor and headed out of into the bay. I have no idea what they were up to....but it is quite a creative boat I have to say.... no photos sorry.... And I am totally serious.
We headed back to get lost in the middle of Malta again, almost inevitable as they are redoing the main roads of the island with european money (long needed repairs), but it is the equivalent of closing the M50 around Dublin for a year completely, or the M25 from Bristol to Bath...
We went off to Gozo overnight thursday friday, and had an amazing walk from Victoria (smack in the middle of the island) out to Marsalforn in the north and then west to Hekka Point, along the cliffs and Salt Pans to what will be forever know as Hunters paradise. The Maltese, and the Gozitans in particular I fear love shooting. Anything that moves by the look of it. Not many Clay Pigeon places here...It is definetly an article for the vague rants page, but just imagine an English garden allotment with a gun emplacement (or tower in some cases) at one end, and you begin to get the picture....Anyway, we managed to stumble out of here with vague recollections of our Corsican Maquis adventure (coming soon) and on down to Fungus Rock, the Inland sea and Azure window all at Dwerja Point - hitched back with an Australian couple and made it back to Malta in time for a Rabbit Dinner. Fenkata - delicious. A must have if you are here, the national dish. Although Horse is very popular as well if you fancy....
Anyway, we went picnicking in Buskett (lit. Little Woods)yesterday, and it feels like a Monday morning today. we've been winding down from Party all last week, and now Mat and Ingrid are back in work and we're planning departures.
Til the next post (i'll make them shorter, promise...)
K
Sunday, May 01, 2005
from Strasbourg to...
well, it took us a while but here you are.
A blog is born.
We left almost six weeks ago already, when we hopped in the train to Strasbourg.
Since then we have been through Strasbourg, Marseille, Corsica, Rome, Naples, Salerno, Siracusa, and we are now in Malta.
The highlight so far, as long as I am concerned, was Corsica. The most amazing thing about it was the ever changing landscape. You drive for 15 minutes, negociate a hairpin of the road, and you are in a different world. To my delight, the country is also covered in semi wild pigs, goats, cows and so on. Enough to make the road interesting, if the landscape wasn't there already to make you go ohhh every five minutes.
We are in Malta right now, a country of yellow stone, loud fireworks and genuine smiles.
de Strasbourg a Marseille
Pour l'instant, il est encore a l'etat de brouillon. Nous avons decide d'ecrire dans nos deux langues, anglais et francais, mais sans necessairement tout traduire. Au gres de nos humeurs.
J'espere que vous pardonnerez le manque d'accents etc (clavier anglo saxon, je n'y peut rien), et les fautes d'orthographe et de grammaire. Deux ans a parler anglais tous les jours, et ma langue maternelle se delite...
Strasbourg donc.
En fait, on a bien failli ne pas partir: pas de loco. Moi qui vante sans arret les merites des trains francais...
Strasbourg a ete un debut de voyage parfait. Retrouver de vieux amis: Manu, Barbara, Jakub, Guillaume, Diane, plus revus depuis presque trois ans, mediter dans la Cathedrale, cette Grande Dame inoubliable, marcher le long des canaus, faire decouvrir la biere alsacienne a Kevin (la biere de mars, surout: les biere francaises ont la reputation d'etre imbuvables), aller ecouter le chant d'amour des cigognes dans le parc de l'Orangerie. Kevin a aime, j'ai adore.
Retourner dans la ville ou on a etudie, passe cinq annees a se decouvrir, a devenir "adulte", a se sentir libre, a decouvrir ce que c'est que la seduction, l'amitie, la confiance, une gueule de bois, la litterature partagee... je n'ai pas tant change, en fait. J'ai passe mon diplome il y a presque quatre ans, et meme si il est tentant de dire "deja!", je sais que ma vie a ete bien remplie depuis.
Strasbourg elle a change, un peu. Le squelette est la, les bars familiers, les rues, les odeurs, mais les boutiques ont change. Tout a monte d'un cran. Tati, Kiloshop ont disparu, les magasins de luxe sont arrives.
De Strasbourg, nous avons pris le train de nuit pour Marseille.
Voyage sans histoire si on oublie le cycliste qui refusait de demonter son velo et le couple qui avait pris nos couchettes en deplacant nos sacs deja installes ("le controleur nous a dit de venir dans ce vagon, alors...").
Nos hotes a Marseille etait une famille contactee sur couchsurfing.com. Manfred, Gabrielle et Elsa. Gabrielle etait absente pour une semaine, mais Manfred nous a accueillis a bras ouverts.
Marseille est une ville superbe, meme si Kevin parle encore des crottes de chien qui rendent ses trottoirs perilleux. Mes vagues souvenirs de la cite phoceenne (datant de mes douze ans) etaient gris et poussiereux, si l'on excepte les yeux bleus d'un charmant jeune homme et les pierres rouges du Chateau d'If. Marseille est en fait une autre ville rose, avec une de ces pierres aux nuances douce que nous retrouvons depuis un peu partout. Des parcs, la mer, une population variee qui venait comme un souffle d'air frais apres deux ans dans une Bath monochrome, des marches en plein air, des bateaux, des vues superbes des que l'on monte un peu.
Nous avons reussi a passer une soiree avec marc et Clothilde, des amis de Strasbourg retournes dans leur Marseille d'origine.
Le deuxieme jours, Manfred nous a emmenes dans les Calanques, avec un detour par l'Unite de'habitation de le Corbusier. Nous avons eu droit a nos premiers vrais rayons de soleil!
Le lendemain, ferry pour Ajaccio. Ou du moins, c'etait le plan. On n'etais pas au courrant du changement d'heure. Du coup, on est restes un jour de plus et avons pris le bateau pour Bastia.
Et la.... la Corse...
On nous avait prevenus pourtant.
L'endroit est incroyablement beau, le paysage changeant d'un versant de montagne a un autre, d'un virage a la prochaine ligne droite... en arriere plan la mer et de la neige au passage des cols, des chenes lieges, des citroniers des amandiers, une architecture 20 fois differentes. Sans compter le Saucisson, la Soupe, les animaux en semi liberte marchant au milieu de la route.
Et l'accueil des gens. peut etre parce qu'on etait la hors saison, apparemment l'ete c'est l'enfer, mais des notre arrivee nous avons eu droit a de longs discous sur le passe et l'avenir du pays, le tourismes, la corsitude etc.
Sandrine nous hebergeait, que nous avons rencontree sur Hospitality Club, et des le deuxieme jours elle nous laissait les clefs de la voiture... Internet est une grande chose! Nous allons de rencontre en rencontre.
Apres la Corse, Rome et les funerailles du pape en compagnie de deux millions de polonais, puis Naples dans l'univers cosy de 'auberge "Six small rooms" ou parmis les autes pensionnaires on comptait 4 ecrivains, un philosophe, un acteur, un jusriste et deux economistes... Il y a des jours ou on se demande si on ne vit pas dans un monde parallele...
Puis Salerno, heberges par Gianluca-le-meilleur-cuisinier-du-monde et son chat Hibou, en enfin Syracuse la belle, et Malte.
En six semaines nous avons visite deux villes romaines fantomes, Pompei et Ostia Antica, vu des bouts de marbre a n'en plus finir a Rome, des bout de fronton, un amphitheate et des souterrains grecs a Naples, des temples grecs a Paestum et un autre habilement deguise en eglise a Syracuse... un autre amphitheatre, plus de temples encore ailleurs. Depuis rome, tout est a la mode antique. Parlez moi des arenes de Lutece...!
