The London summer with pregnancy, Tennis and Royalty (from the Archives)

Mike and I are both keeping very well, although I did get very sick Monday through to Tuesday this week.  I have recovered now.  Mike thinks it was 'The Vomiting Bug' which has been going around here.  My symptoms did seem to corroborate that!

Mike has redefined my size recently as 'barrel'.  Not very complimentary I would say!  But, he has felt the baby kick and was very pleased!  I feel it nearly every day at the moment, but still very lightly.  The last scan (10 days back) showed everything going well.  Measurements all seem to be on the median line.

I have been to Mothercare already, and it is a good store.  Do they have it in NZ too?

We had the first baby scan photo at 13 weeks.  I have since had the 20 week scan and got a photo from that too. There is just one baby on the scans - unless the other one is very good at hide and seek!  We don't want to know the sex until it pops out, but I haven't detected any 'dangly bits' on any scan so far.  Mind you, I can hardly tell hands and feet, so how I would recognise anything else is stretching things somewhat!

Mike is working as a normal contractor again now, after being in a startup for about a year.  He seems very happy with his new job.  He comes home happier every evening now.  And I was speaking to our friend's partner, who also left the company when Mike did, and she said the same about him.  And Mike's happiness is what counts the most anyway.

I have finished my study, but I suspect I should be starting some more to keep any boredom away.  I may do some database work, as I only have one exam that covers that, and it doesn't date as fast as other IT skills.

I went to Wimbledon and I'm holding out hopes for a visit to the French Open next year, just to round things off.  A trip to Lords is also something I want to see.

Mike and I went down to Buckingham Palace for the Tuesday of the Jubilee long weekend.  We were in a crowd of 1,000,000 other people!  It was worth it just for that experience!

Sachsenring 2002

We were delayed taking off from Heathrow for our annual German Motorcycle Grand Prix trip by about an hour. As we were due to get in late originally, Mike had visions of us sleeping under the car rental counter waiting for it to open the next morning. He probably thought this, as Germany is the scene for our many unusual sleeping locations in the past. Another one this trip would not be out of the ordinary. So far we have had cornfields, windmills, Hilton car parks - to name the first that spring to mind.

One good thing about flying from Britain to Germany is the “alien” queue is very short, as most people are travelling on European passports of some description. So we hurtled through immigration. I stayed to collect the luggage as Mike ran to the rental car counter to try and find it. Turns out our counter was the only one still open - especially for us. Mike had already primed the Opel station wagon and we shoved in the bag, yelled out a “Danke Schoen” to the sleepy man at the counter, took in a toilet stop and disappeared onto the Berlin ring road.

Mike was feeling cocky, and didn't wait for me to:
1) Learn how to operate the GPS
2) Learn how to defog the windscreen
3) Find a map, that may have solved both problems above (navigation aid and useful for waving at windscreen if desperate enough)

… and he promptly hurtled out of the airport into the dead traffic that was Berlin on a Friday night around 12am.

Of course, Mike's bold moves driving are often the portent to him coming down to earth rather fast. People familiar with Mike's now legendary 'I scoff at judder bars' statement as he drove around Kelburn in Wellington with two bicycles on the cycle rack will know that. The second judder bar encountered by the mighty Mirage that day in Kelburn almost threw both bikes off the back. Mike looked appropriately sheepish as he hefted the bikes back on the rack.

So, I was a little bit worried that 'We'll find the right autobahn without any maps or any idea at all' was a bit too similar. His bold navigation stance could have signified the end of a quick, easy drive to the comfortable bed in the ‘Formula One’ hotel, 180 kms down the autobahn. But, on this occasion, he was right. It was easy to follow the signs to Leipzig and end up on the right road. Let's hope the rush of success doesn't go to his head, and the memory of the result of scoffing at judder bars starts to dim. That would be a bad thing.

Meanwhile, I now had time to contemplate the complicated computer that controlled the GPS, the radio and the ventilation. Mike suggested the Owners manual, and can I just say that it made no difference whether I read the English or the German instructions. Nothing made any sense. Opel have a lot to learn about making a system that is intuitive and easy to use. When the passenger struggles to work the beast, how is the driver supposed to cope alone? Mike eventually found the steering wheel controls, but they needed too much of an eye on the system’s little TV screen to be entirely happy about even changing radio stations while driving. Also the screen was positioned so close to the steering wheel that you couldn’t see the screen, and keep both hands on the steering wheel at the same time. We happily rate the Mercedes and BMW systems over this Opel version.

Having a degree in computer science, it was only about 1.5 hours worth of fiddling to eventually hit upon the vague idea Opel engineers must have had in mind when the designed the console, and soon we had better music than ABBA on the radio. Actually, even when I found the ABBA station, I could only make it play for 10 seconds before it would switch itself off. And I could only get it back by manually selecting the station again. After 1 minute of interrupted 'Fernando' (which some might say is the only way to listen to that song) I finally hit upon the menu option that selected a station permanently. I selected ‘Rock Music’ as our preferred category (or I think I did, as although I had switched GPS woman into English, all the text on the screen was still German) and we found some decent music to drive by.

But, by then we were almost at the Formula 1. Mike swiped his credit card – a lot of times, since the card reader in all Formula 1’s is a bit hit and miss, but with eventual success – and we had a room for the night (1:30am meant it wouldn't be a long night) plus breakfast for 28 Euro. Not bad.

Up at 8:30 for some breakfast. The woman in the breakfast room switched to English immediately (how do they know?) and when I told her the room number said that we were the automatic people (that is, the ones mad enough to turn up at 1:30am without a reservation, and swipe and hope!). I could only agree. Yummy bread rolls (and passable jam - left the marmite at home) and coffee later, Mike was awake and we packed and left.

Arriving at the campsite about 1 more hour down the track, we found to our immense pleasure that the camping was free this year. This was a pretty good discount from the 80 Deutschmarks (about 80 kiwi dollars) it cost to pitch the tent last year. We were very pleased. And besides, Mike had decided that we shouldn't bother with the tent and sleep in the back of the rental car - being a station wagon.

We sorted out a daypack for the day and wandered off to the circuit. We had to pass through the tent city on the way to the circuit. It is always fun to look at what people are doing to their tent sites. One year we saw picket fences and pot plants. Another year there was a site with rousing East German socialist music blaring out of the speakers quite early in the morning. And this year, one tent site had a blow up doll hanging about 30m in the air from 5 big helium balloons. It was quite popular as every so often she would be hauled down and then released again. Fortunately we couldn't see what was happening at ground level from our particular vantage point. I was loath to get any closer.

Now, before we left London I had memorised the German for words such as 'invalid', and 'fake' and 'You're not coming in here with those tickets'. Why? Because the ADAC Sachsenring website had a new online ticketing system where you actually printed out your own tickets after buying them online. And the page was all in German so I could only hope I was telling Mike the right thing. They looked okay, but I still wasn't entirely convinced. However, looking around as we approached the turnstiles I could see lots of people clutching similar printouts to ours. And what's more, the turnstiles had signs over the top of them saying 'E tickets hier'. Excellent. Our tickets were scanned and in we went.

The weather had been overcast the night before, and Mike had printed out the 4 day forecast for Leipzig in London, which indicated rain for the next few days. So, we dressed warmly and carried jackets and umbrellas, prepared for the deluge. As soon as we were inside the circuit we realised the error in trusting the weather forecast on The BBC Weather Site. It was hot and sunny. Continental summer hot! We made our hot way to the grandstand at the other end of the circuit, where we had tickets for the weekend.
Our tickets were for Grandstand Number 12, so Mike asked a bratwurst seller if the grandstand next to him was 'Tribune twolf' (Dinglish if ever I've heard it – something between ‘twelve’, the English, and ‘zwölf’, the German). The sausage seller said yes, so we came in and showed the usher our ticket, and they waved us to a few rows in front. Mike and I were mystified as to how anyone could find their seats when the row number did not match the seat number on the ticket. Our row was 16, and our seats 437, and 438. But, those seats were in row 12. It didn't make sense.

But, we sat down and enjoyed a hot day's qualifying. We chatted to our neighbours - to our right were Jurgen and Lars (possibly father and son) and in front the 'Binocular man' and his son. He lent us his binoculars to watch some of the action. Especially when a roller-blader came off on a steep downhill path opposite us and had an awful spill. Last we saw of him was being driven off in one of the on-course ambulances.

We both got a bit of sun. Mike got a lot - because he didn't slip, slop, slap - well - he did slip on a shirt but that was about it. His hat wasn't in the daypack and he scoffed at the sunscreen (remember those Judder Bars, Mike!). Now that we're back in London we both look quite well compared to the pasty white locals – and this is in the middle of an okay English summer. I was able to pull up my flared jeans and enjoy relief from the heat with my hat to keep off the baking sun. Mike just cooked (and grumbled about me misreading the weather) and we could not find his cap in the bag under the jackets or umbrella. The qualifying was good fun. We lived on German bread and weisswurst (well, I did anyway) all day. A great diet (for three days it was ok).

Being so hot we needed a lot of water. Trouble is, most of the water in Germany has fizz added. Mike could only get fizzy water for us to drink, and we were so thirsty that we had no choice. Mike quite liked it by the end. I still suffered it. The bartender told Mike it was ‘Power water’. Ok. Reminded me of a few years back in Munich when we were buying der Bus. We bought six 1.5 litre bottles of water for camping in der Bus, only to find that they were sparkling water bottles. I can tell you that toothpaste and fizzy water do not make a great combination. Mike and I were frothing at the mouth every night and morning!

That evening Mike said we should stroll into town to eat. The closest village is Hohenstein-Ernstthal and is quite small. We'd never been in there on foot so it was time to explore. It was a pity we had no idea where to go (Mike wanted to find the Alt Markt area as there was supposed to be a party on) as I was soon getting tired and finding the industrial area beside the railway lacking in inspiration.

Mike was still determined and asked a friendly German policeman where the middle of town was. He replied I was not far and waved behind us somewhere. His colleagues got the giggles – I wasn’t sure why. Perhaps his German accent was funny?

But, his directions were fine and Mike found an ATM to get some cash and a very nice café where I had a lovely salad and Mike had some ‘Putenbrust’ (like chicken but smaller than a turkey). After a yummy meal, that cost only 22 Euro (we like Euros – so much cheaper than pounds and bearing no resemblance to an Aussie or Kiwi dollar so we have no idea – the DM was nearly a kiwi dollar in value so everything smarted in Germany before) we found a party in the Altmarkt and a Kylie impersonator having difficulty getting something out of her head. She got a great round of applause and said she’d be back after The Clogs. We left and retired to the comfort of the car for some sleep!

This town, and the whole area where the GP is held is changing every year we go. The GP was running very smoothly and getting bigger every year. House prices around seem to be on the increase too. Lots more English being spoken too (although that is a shame for me, as I like to practise German a bit).

I had a fitful sleep, unlike Mike who was snoring 10 minutes after we switched the light off. I had some pleasure when he woke up at times during the night to ask me why I wasn’t sleeping well. But, he went right back to sleep each time. I must have had some sleep, as I wasn’t too bad the next morning. Up at 6am and pestering Mike to get up too.

It was another beautiful day, and after Mike complaining about having to carry umbrellas, jackets and jerseys yesterday, I left everything warm at the car. Guess you know what was in store for us, despite our conversation that went something like ‘Continental weather patterns are so much more stable, so it’s likely to remain hot and dry today’. Yeah, right.

We wandered round to our grandstand and had breakfast before taking our seats for the warm up laps. About now Mike started browsing the program he bought yesterday. Looking at the circuit map I realised it was highly likely that this was in fact grandstand T13 and not our ticketed T12. Doh!

As the races loomed ever closer, the grandstand started to fill. We had merely fluked the only two seats no one wanted as places around us started to fill. Finally, amidst a string of German numbers uttered by someone at the end of our row, we figured out one of our seats was being claimed. Time for our quick disappearing routine. We had to shift grandstands just before the 125 race kicked off. Oops. Stupid tourists - can't read their tickets right. We were slightly wrong last year too, so we're not doing too well on the ticket-reading front. Maybe there's an inherent German technique taught from birth that allows the natives to intuitively discern grandstands from each other despite having no markings that appear to the naked (obviously untrained) eye. And why couldn’t the sausage seller understand Mike’s German?

Funny thing was, when we got to our place in T12 there was hardly anyone around us. We were in a space to ourselves.

The racing was excellent and we had a good view of a fast section of track with a fantastic curve. Valentino Rossi loves passing there and we were treated to some exciting passing during the motogp race. Perhaps T12 wasn’t quite as good a view as T13, but it wasn’t bad. We had a big screen to watch as well, so we saw the critical moments that happened away from our section of track (such as Barros taking Jacque out three laps from the end when they were leading – ouch!).

The 250cc race was cut short, just as Melandri fell off because at that moment the heavens decided to open. As people rushed away or fished out jackets, Mike and I looked helplessly at each other. The raindrops were huge, and any sort of prolonged exposure to such rain and we would be soaked very quickly. Uh oh. But, as the break between the races came, the weather improved and we were soon dry again and the 500cc race ran without rain interruption.

End of the racing, and Mike and I decided to leave with a lot of other people and walk back to the car. It took quite a while, as we were almost exactly opposite the campsite in our section of circuit. So, when we got back to the car it was a two-hour queue to get out of the car park.

Eventually I headed Mike onto an A road, hoping to avoid any ‘Staus’ (German traffic jams, which the autobahns seem plagued with) and we meandered north in a vague Berlin direction. We were hoping to get to Senftenburg where we had stayed at a lake last year in a very nice hotel. But, with a stop for a dinner along the way it was dark by the time we arrived. And do you think it would be easy to find a lake next to a wee town in country Germany? No! Turns out we almost circumnavigated the lake before Mike got sick of looking. So, we found a quiet car park away from any traffic and fell asleep in the back of the car once more.

Next morning, Mike woke up and drove to find the elusive hotel and lake, while I rolled around in the back cocooned in my sleeping bag. It was very easy to get there in the light of day – we’d been on the right road but had overshot the side street that the hotel was on. Mike’s plan was to have a morning swim to invigorate ourselves, and to placate me as I was hoping for a shower by this stage – two days sleeping in a car isn’t conducive to spending time in a plane cooped up with an unfortunate passenger that happened to be allocated the seat next to some smelly tourists. But, as we walked over to the lake shore (me in my pyjama short bottoms and T-shirt and Mike in his shorts and T-shirt) and felt the strong, cold breeze blowing off the lake, and looked at the murky, unsettled lake, we hastily decided to hurtle back to the car, get dressed and continue our drive towards Berlin. Our sympathies for any fellow passengers on the flight later that day evaporated with the wind that also sucked any warmth from our unwashed bodies! I was glad I had packed the ‘Wet Ones’ by this stage!

The rain fairly pelted down during the day, but there were some brighter moments. It had stopped raining by the time we drove into Gubin, a town on the border of Germany and Poland. We wanted to pop over to Poland just to say we’d been there, given we were so close. I had my light trousers on with a fibre pile vest, as it was a little cold. I asked Mike if I looked silly in this, and he just laughed! Which I took to mean an emphatic ‘Yes’. So I changed into my jeans, rolling around in the back seat for the third time that day (yes, I was muttering a bit while I did so!).

Mike and I strolled up to the border crossing, which neatly divided this town into two parts (with the map showing the Polish side to be bigger). Well, the guards at customs thought it was mighty odd that two New Zealanders wanted to cross at this border. They asked us why we wanted to go to Poland and I said we wanted to have a coffee (lucky I didn’t mention that I also wanted a) the toilet and b) a shower ) and that just confirmed their opinion that we were slightly mad. They took our passports to the Polish office (does that mean our passports have been to Poland???) and then told us New Zealanders needed a visa in advance, but that Germans could come and go as they liked. Oh well. We could see Poland clearly. Mike wanted to video, but I was worried about videoing border crossings after we’d been turned away. My German doesn’t run to ‘Please don’t confiscate our holiday video footage!’

So, back to the car (after finding the toilets) and on the road to Berlin again. Not following Reich Highway 1 as the Russians did in 1945 but a parallel road, nevertheless. Mike has just read about the fall of Berlin and the Russian advance, so he was clued up on the events surrounding that campaign. We drive through some picturesque parts of Germany, before arriving at Berlin airport in plenty of time. Plenty of time for a shower! Hooray!

Mike stocked up on Mozart Balls (chocolate we discovered during the Christmas ski holiday to Austria and subsequently found were sold all over Germany) and we flew back to London after another successful German motorcycle race weekend.

Wimbledon

That time had come around again. After such a successful time last year, I was determined to visit Wimbledon again this year. And drag Mike along too.
Week one, and Wednesday morning was absolutely gorgeous here in London. Mike and I postponed a visit to some friends with a new young child and planned to head out around 4pm and try our luck in The Queue. Such a beautiful day was simply too hard to pass up.

By the time we got into the end of the queue, it was about 4:55pm and even after only 15 minutes, about another 50m of queue had formed behind us. The queue was slightly shorter than the two queues had joined the previous year after work. I guess I was about 20 minutes earlier than last year. We were prepared for hours of boredom in the queue (followed by the distinct possibility of not getting in due to the exceptional weather) – armed with newspapers, magazines, water and ham and cheese croissants from the best French bakery this side of the channel.

However, Mike was surprised by the speed of the queue and 1 hours and five minutes after joining the end of the queue, we were paying our 8-pound general admission fee and getting through the gates at SW19.

I showed Mike the souvenir shop (was thinking about more towels – I bought two last year) then we headed off to court 18 where I hoped Andy Roddick was still playing. But, he had cleaned up his opponent in straight sets (unbeknownst to us) and we ended up waiting for a British ladies doubles match to start. We had a good view of another ladies doubles match on court 17 so we watched that. Eventually the crowd dispersed from court 18 when it became apparent that the match wasn’t going to happen that night.

So, Mike and I headed off to an outside court where a men’s doubles match was just starting between an Aussie pair (Eagle and Stolle) and another pair I had never heard of at all. The Aussies were doing quite well, and were amused by the chants of ‘Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi’ that went on from time to time. There was also a mad older man that would hold up an Aussie flag after one game and yell ‘Aussie’ and the next time it would be a Dutch flag and he’d yell something of uncertain origins. It didn’t help that we didn’t know who the Aussies were facing (Rogier Wassen [Netherlands] and Robert Kendrick [USA] - whoever they were).

I think Mike appreciated the tennis a bit more live than the hours I watch on TV. And the weather and atmosphere at Wimbledon more than made it a fantastic evening. We wandered back (via the souvenir shop where Mike bought me a dressing gown) to the tube station and we got home by 10:35pm. Brixton was very lively when we hopped off the tube and waited for a bus. We jammed ourselves onto a bus and headed home up the hill.

Michelle's Holiday April 2001

After we had boarded we watched the safety video and we started to move. I was really excited! We had a boy who was my age sitting next to me and my brother he was really funny. We got faster and faster and then we took off! When we had finished taking off and we were straight in the air we got served dinner. Our first destination was Singapore and it took 7 hours to get there from Melbourne!

We landed in Singapore and stayed on the plane while the cleaned it and fuelled up. Other people got off the plane and went to see the airport but because we were on our own we weren’t allowed. We then took off for our next destination, which was Dubai. The boy we were with got off for a plane for Manchester. It was another 7 hours for London!

We had finally landed in London! We got off the plane and went through customs again! Then we went to find our luggage it was a little bit hard but finally found it. We then walked threw Heathrow airport it’s huge! We finally found my Aunty and Uncle! We caught the train back to their flat and dropped off our luggage. Then we went sight seeing!!

We went out to go sight seeing. So we caught a double Decker bus through Kensington to Hyde Park. We then saw Kensington Palace where Princess Diana used to live. Then we took the train to Piccadilly Circus and we sat under the statue of Eros. Eros is the Angel of love and the legend is if you stand under Eros with the person you love tell them you love them and kiss them it will come true for ever! After that we went to see Westminster and Big Ben. When we had got around to seeing Big Ben it was raining so we headed back to my Aunty and Uncles place and went to bed!

At Buckingham Palace

Near Kensington Palace

The next morning when I woke up I was sick. So we stayed home most of the day due to me throwing up. At 2:15pm we left for another airport called Stansted. When we got to Stansted airport we got out tickets and went through the metal detectors. It beeped for my brother so he had to go through again but it still beeped (because of his belt) so he had to be body searched which was really funny! We then got onto the plane for Italy. I was really happy to land in Italy because I was sick on the plane but the airhostesses were really nice to me. When we landed in Ciampino Airport we rented a car and went to the B & B to go to sleep.

At a picnic at Lago Di Vico

Rio Mozzo is the B & B we stayed in. It has two bedrooms on our side and our own bathroom! On the other side it has one room and a bathroom! There can be two people staying there at once. It has a shared lounge room and kitchen, which the two sides both share. We only shared with a couple named Ann and Peter for two days, no one else. Rio Mozzo is an ostrich farm! The people who own the place have 8 ostriches, some ducks, 4 goats, a couple of peacocks and some chickens! If you stay there for long enough you get to do a course on how to paint and decorate ostrich eggs! They have three dogs one named Rosie another named Lila and a puppy but I can’t remember his name only that he bites!

Rio Mozzo Ostriches

Our bedroom

Rio Mozzo

Pompeii is a town. Many years ago it used to be a different town this was before the volcano of mount Vesuvius erupted and buried the land in lava. Many years’ later people started digging there to build and they found the old town of Pompeii! They dug up as much as they could find and they let people come and see what it looks like. There are lots of half steps and the buildings are not even all there. It’s amazing they were able to find it. So they make people pay to come and see it. I didn’t find it that fascinating but I guess some people would! After a couple hours we took the two and a half hour trip home!

Visiting Pompeii

The next day we went to Rome to go shopping for my family. I bought heaps of stuff and spent a lot of money. We also went to Trevi Fountain and the tradition is if you toss a coin over your head and into the fountain you will come back to Rome! Then I bought myself a baby blue skirt and Vince bought some shoes. After shopping we went to see the Vatican! The Vatican is where the Pope lives and he comes out to talk to the people. It’s really big and in the shape of a Dome! The next day we went back to Rome again and went to see the Coliseum!

Trevi Fountain

The Vatican behind the Tiber River

Me at the Colesseum

On Friday we got up all got ready and left for the Airport. We were flying a GO plane back to London (Lucky I wasn’t sick this time) so the flight was good. When we landed in Stanstedn we got a bus to where our car was parked and drove back to my aunty and uncle's house. We came back and had some dinner and went to sleep.

On Easter Saturday my Aunty Karen and her boyfriend Scott arrived in London. We caught the double Decker buses to Piccadilly Circus and went to one of the worlds biggest toy stores Hambleys! We then got back on the train. My Uncle Mike and my brother went home well my Aunty Karen, Her boyfriend Scott, My Aunty Angela and myself went to a shop to find materials for my Viking ship (we got a little lost) but ended up getting there. We also went to Tesco (which is a supermarket) to buy Easter eggs for tomorrow.
In the morning we opened up our Easter eggs and rolled down the stairs because we didn’t have a ramp. Rolling Easter eggs down a hill is one of our family traditions. Afterwards My uncle Mike and Aunty Karen and her boyfriend went to the pub so my aunty Angela my brother and myself went to the planetarium and Madam Tussauds. The planetarium was really cool it felt like the whole room was moving. At Madam Tussauds there were wax dolls of famous people I got my photo taken with Billy Connolly and the Pope! We then went to pizza hut for lunch.

That afternoon once everyone had recovered from the night before, which was about late afternoon, we left for Scotland. We drove up to Manchester to visit some of our relatives. We had dinner there and then left to try and find a B and B to stay in. We found a place to stay and we went to sleep for the night. The next morning we left for Edinburgh. Around late afternoon we arrived in Edinburgh and found a really nice hotel to stay in. We went down to the bar for dinner and then we went to bed. The next morning we went to Edinburgh castle, which was really cool, but it was cold. We then went to our dynamic earth, which was like a museum. After our long morning and afternoon we left to drive up to Glasgow. We checked out where my grandma lived when she was young then we drove to Blackpool and stayed there the night.

We spent Vince’s birthday in Blackpool. First we went and played arcade games for a couple of hours - it was really cool. We also did the dodgem cars, which was really fun except I got pretty stuck. Then we went to Pleasure Beach and we went on this horse ride, which was fun but weird. We then drove back down to London. When we got there it was pretty late we had dinner and went to sleep.

On Friday we didn’t do much. We stayed at my Aunty and Uncle’s house and packed because we thought we were going home on Saturday. On Saturday morning we were ready to leave for the airport when my aunty wanted to video tape us with the tickets. So I got out the tickets and looked at them my other Aunty (Karen) asked what the date was and my uncle said 21st. I looked at the tickets and said the 22nd so my uncle had a look and said we are not leaving till tomorrow. So tomorrow we await the journey home.

Italy

We flew into Ciampino Airport quite late on Sunday night. The flight had been delayed a little from Stansted due to extra cleaning requirements. Maybe it had been a bumpy flight back on its last trip? Anyhow, we got into the terminal and found only one car rental place open, with one car left! Fortunately we could all fit into the 4 door Fiat Punto available – and with our luggage too. Well, most of that did fit in the boot – although I had a bag at my feet and Michelle and Vince had a bag or two between them.

Mike had reservations about the car, as it was a Turbo Diesel and he suspected a lack of ‘oomph’. But, after a few kilometres he was as hooked to the Punto as all Italians are to fast, small hatchbacks. It had plenty of herbs, and Mike is now toying with the idea of buying one as a shopping basket one day.

So we zipped off into the night, with some vague emailed directions from Alessandro from the Rio Mozzo B&B. However, the vague directions proved to be spot on (all directions in Italy seem to be ‘follow signs to Firenze’, or ‘follows signs to Roma’ or ‘follow signs to Napoli’ as that was all we used for the week are we were hardly lost at all – and that is unusual!!). After about 40 minutes we were pulling into the driveway for Rio Mozzo. Alessandro came out to meet us and open the driveway doors up. He showed us into our lovely rooms and made us a cup of tea (Michelle even got Camomile tea to help her upset stomach). We gratefully crashed into our beds.

When Theresa and Richard were exploring Europe for one last time before heading back to New Zealand for their wedding and resettling, they had stayed at Rio Mozzo and had a wonderful time. Theresa had left the brochure with us, and recommended it as a place to stop if we visit Rome. We enjoyed the place as much as Theresa and Richard did. Alessandro was an excellent host, and made us very welcome. His menagerie was also welcoming. Rosie was an English spaniel – tiny, but full of energy. She loved retrieving, and her tail never stopped waggling. Lila was some sort of minature Doberman-type of dog. Very shy, but liked a scratch behind the ears. And, a puppy that had an Italian name none of us could remember or pronounce. But although the puppy was cute, it was very bitey. And Mike pursued the various cats around, but they must have been working cats, and he only got to tickle one once.

Michelle and puppy at Rio Mozzo

Whether it was the old wives remedy of camomile tea or not, Michelle was almost as fit as a fiddle the next morning. Thankfully. I wasn’t sure what we would do if she were still sick. But, we had scheduled a relaxing day driving through the surrounding countryside in the event of Michelle still being off colour, so that was what we did.

Our breakfast was lovely, although Michelle and Vince would have loved some toast and vegemite or Honey Smacks. We ate on a large farmhouse table, with beautiful linen. Mike enjoyed the Italian coffee while I drank tea and the kids supped on orange juice. There were biscuit-like rolls, butter, jams and muesli. It wasn’t till later in the week that the kids discovered the wonderful hot chocolate drink.

A late relaxing start saw us leave around 10:30am for a drive around Umbria. This is a lovely part of Italy (not that we’ve seen much – and what we have seen we love too!), and some imaginative navigation on my part allowed us to see considerably more than the normal tourist. Personally, I’ve always wanted to drive around rutted roads through rows and rows of olive groves. And, now we know that Umbria is the capital of porcelain toilet production anywhere in the world. Why? Ask us how many factories we saw with toilet bowls, bidets and shower bases stacked to the sky! When Alessandro told us Umbria has been making porcelain for centuries I don’t know why I thought of ornaments and plates. How mad! But, now I know where to go to buy my toilet!

Our first stop was the local town of Civita Castellano. This was the kids first time driving on the right hand side of the road. We stopped off and went for a bit of a walk. The weather near Rome was a lot nicer than in London, so this was a shorts and T-shirt day. Civita Castellano is a lovely town built around an old castle up on a rocky hill. On the way back to the car we spotted a little supermarket with a deli section. We decided there and then to buy ingredients for a picnic at lunchtime.

So, armed with two children that speak high school Italian, and an excellent rendition of ‘Buongiorno’, we walked up to the deli counter with confidence. I was ushering Michelle forward with a huge smile on my face. It must have seemed strange to have two adults pushing two children forward to talk with the woman behind the counter. Still, she humoured us, and taught Michelle the word for ‘slice’ (we got some salami, ham and yummy cheese). Michelle and Vince both enjoyed buying the picnic food, as their dad, Dominic, takes them to Italian delis in Melbourne. I hope that next time they all go shopping in Melbourne, Michelle and Vince give it a go, as they were very good at it.

We chatted in very broken Italian with the staff there. Michelle had taught me the Italian words for Uncle and Aunty, and I managed to convey the idea that although we were the uncle and aunty, their dad was Italian. It seemed to work quite well. Italian’s not so hard. With a bit of French under your belt, you can almost figure out what is going on. Spanish must make it even easier! Admittedly, Mike’s method of using French words with Italian endings (and fake Italian accent thrown in for good measure) confused me a bit. I caught myself saying ‘merci’ instead of ‘grazie’ once or twice. We had a ball! And, at least the Italians don’t care if we butcher the language in our quest for cross-cultural understanding.

After wandering around Civita Castellano, we drove towards an area contain pre-Etruscan ruins. Alessandro had marked an ‘X’ on our map of its approximate location. This is where we drove around admiring fields of olive groves hiding behind the porcelain factories. Unfortunately the ruins were elusive. And, fortunately, we ended back up on the main road again. So we continued our drive towards Lake Vico bearing our picnic in mind (or in our rumbling tummies).

The villages we drove through were amazing. Everything seemed so old and rundown, yet functioning perfectly. The houses are spotless where you can see them (porches and frontages), but if you look over the rooftops, all you see is a jumble of tiles, falling masonry and plaster. Bright flowerpots stood on steps and hung from doors, and it seems Italians love the shade of apricot as many house were painted that colour. Visiting villages that have existed for thousands of years isn’t an everyday occurrence when you grow up in New Zealand or Australia. It’s amazing to step through roads that existed when Europe was in the grip of the Middle Ages.

We found our way to Lake Vico and parked the car on a grassy verge. We ate the best cheese (whatever it was) and delicious ham, washed down with Fanta (for me) and Coke (for the others). The Italian bread was fantastic. A crusty loaf designed perfectly for picnics and keeping fresh. Michelle and I also had a theory about the effect of the bread on the teeth of the locals. Our theory was either a) the bread massaged the gums keeping them healthy, or b) the bread ripped out any loose teeth. Judging from the of toothless grins Michelle had noticed, we pretty much believe theory b.

After lunch, we drove to Viterbo, which used to be a papal town in the Middle Ages. The inner city was still walled, and we drove through a gate to get a car park. We visited the Quartier Medievale and walked around looking at the old roads, alleys and buildings. This is where Vince went mad taking photos of a Ferrari. But, it was Italian after all.

Back in the car to visit another town perched on the side of a hill. San Cimeno al something. The buildings looked like they were ready to cascade down at any moment. But, given the age of the place, it must be quite stable. This village was very picturesque.

Eventually we ended up in Civita Castellano for dinner. We had hoped to visit a restaurant recommended by Alessandro, but it was shut on Mondays. In fact, all the restaurants in the region seem to shut on random days of the week. We found a pizzeria and I ordered pasta with ‘burro and salvia’ because it looked like I was ordering donkey and saliva. It wasn’t till it arrived that I remembered ‘burro’ is butter. And salvia seems to be sage. But, I’ll stick to the donkey and spit story.

Vince didn’t like his al dente pasta, and prefers his Mum’s, his Dad’s and his Aunty Mack’s cooking to anything the Italians could dish up. And, after the frozen tiramisu we got here, compared to Dominic’s excellent recipe, Mike and I almost agreed.

One hassle we had was trying to get still water to drink. It didn’t help that Nepia, a town just down the road, was the ‘town of water’ and was the local source of mineral water. Every restaurant had Nepia water. The kids didn’t like the natural water, which still had a light fizz. I wasn’t overly keen myself, but it was better than nothing. And, a funny thing at the B&B… Mike was filling up bottles to take with us for the day from the tap, thinking that this will solve the problem, and Alessandro wouldn’t let him. He gave us sparkling mineral water instead. He couldn’t understand why anyone would want tap water instead of bottled water.
Tuesday morning I decided we would go to visit Pompeii. I couldn’t come so close and not see it, especially since when Mum, Robert and Karen saw it, they raved about it quite a bit. It took us about 3 hours to drive down past Napoli to Pompeii. We got held up in a traffic jam as the autostrada came down to just one lane at one point. But, apart from that there weren’t any problems.

Pompeii itself was quite crowded, but you could visit areas with fewer crowds. Unfortunately, the kids didn’t really appreciate the spectacular nature of Pompeii. It is in excellent condition, with some superb mosaics; most of which are in museums. We bought a guidebook to help us around the site, but it turned out to be a bit useless at that, but a good read on its own. Michelle and Vince turned out to have free admission because they came from Melbourne. Apparently, there are places in the world that have reciprocal agreements with Pompeii, and the large Italian population in Melbourne appears to have sorted something out.
Mike and I will return one day to visit Pompeii with a better guidebook, and throw a visit to Herculeam in there too. Michelle and Vince summed up their thoughts on ruins by saying something along the lines of ‘Why does anyone want to see something that’s all broken?’. That they were being driven around the ‘ruin capital’ of the world by a ruin-mad aunty when they wanted to go shopping meant that the agenda for Rome had to change slightly.

Back at the B&B in 2.5 hours – Mike did love that little Punto. We finally got to the restaurant recommended by Alessandro – La Girette. It was fantastic, and Mike and I will return one day. The kids seemed to get a bit sick again – Vince this time too. We met a woman, Ann, who was also at La Girette, and happened to be staying at Rio Mozzo too. Her and her husband Peter had lived in Italy for years, although Ann was originally Zimbabwean, and Peter from England.

We went back to the B&B to chat to Ann and Peter for a while, and to fall asleep in a heap.
Next morning – Wednesday. Our first trip into Rome. I was quite excited. We had an early breakfast, and Michelle and Vince decided they wouldn’t eat it anymore (strange cereal and biscuits – Vince was yet to discover the good hot chocolate). So, our incentive to get into Rome early was so the kids could get breakfast. We missed the train at the local stop by about 10 minutes. So, we kept driving towards Rome. Just after the ring road we found, by accident, a perfect train stop called Grotto Rossa. It had a huge, free carpark, but no ticket office. So we got a free ride into Rome, with no inspectors, fortunately. We bought ourselves some tickets for the day and the next, and then stepped into Rome.

Rome was everything I had imagined. You can turn a corner and see some jaw-dropping building straight out of the history books. Everything oozes history and charm. However, as I said, the agenda had changed. Breakfast at McDonalds was first – although Italian McDonalds don’t have the usual breakfast fare. My McToast was nice, with cheese and bacon. And Mike liked his pork cheeseburger, but Vince didn’t.
Michelle and Vince had some spending money and Rome is an excellent place to shop. So, shop we did. Michelle and Vince shopped up a storm. They can’t possibly be related to me, Karen or Mum! They are miniature shop-a-holics. But, we managed to keep up with them. Vince bought some sneakers and Michelle got a skirt from Benetton just opposite the Trevi Fountain.

Angela at Trevi Fountain

The fountain was more beautiful in reality than in any film or book. We all tossed some coins in, and ensured our return to Rome at some future date.

We ate lunch on a street-side café, but had to run inside when a shower of rain fell. It wasn’t so nice, but filled a hole. Then we got to the Vatican where we showed Michelle and Vince St Peter’s Square with its beautiful columns. Coming away from the Vatican, we saw a shop selling Papal Blessings, and remembered Andrew’s request for a blessing for his sister, Iona and her partner, Col. So, Mike popped in and sorted one out. Done! We used Vince’s local priest as the parish priest’s name.

Then we slowly walked back to the train station. It all worked out so well, that we decided to travel in the same way the next day.

So, Thursday I was determined to see some ruins! No visit to Rome would be complete without a tour of the Coliseum. And this was a ruin that even the kids enjoyed (obviously it wasn’t too broken). Vince and Michelle needed breakfast again, and got an Italian hotdog – which was a little different to the normal hotdog.

The Coliseum was pretty cool. We just poked our noses into the corners and took lots of photos. Even the rubber chicken got its photo there. And Mike managed to capture some Roman stray cats on the video camera.

Wandering back from the Coliseum, we walked through a part of the Forum, and that was the extent of the ruin-visiting for that day. But I was happy enough. The Coliseum had been as good as I expected. And, it’ll still be there when Mike and I return (remember those coins?).

Michelle and Vince had to finish some shopping, and then we were back to the train for Grotto Rossa. Tonight we decided to picnic in the evening, to give us an earlier bedtime, as the Italians start dinner later than we were used to. So back for the third and final time to the mini supermarket where Michelle was a hit by now. This time they talked quite bit in broken Italian/English/French.

Dinner was very yummy.

Friday morning saw us packing up, ready for the journey back to London. We ate breakfast (well, Mike and I did), said goodbye to Alessandro and the dogs, and piled the bags and us into the car and left.
We thought a scenic route to the airport with plenty contingency was the order of the day. There was a large lake just north of Rome that looked inviting. So, Mike and Vince went off in search of lunch while Michelle and I waited next to the huge lake. This lake is supposed to be a crater lake, and while we munched on our pizza slices in the sunshine, we could see constant trails of bubbles surfacing. So, we believed it. A lovely place. The sort of lunch you dream about when you have to return to work, and you are reduced to memories of your fabulous holiday.

We drove back to the airport without any hassles at all, and we returned the rental car, passed through customs and waited for our flight. Vince drew a few planes while we were there, and Mike struck up a conversation with a wee Italian boy called Roberto.

Actually, Roberto was a very outgoing boy, and I laughed when he got up during the flight to go to the toilet. He walked down to the toilet area behind the cockpit, but didn’t know where the toilets were hiding (well, they are unusual doors until you get used to them). He looked back for guidance to his dad, who waved vaguely (as Italians do) in the direction of the toilet. But as Roberto looked around, the only door he could recognise was the door to the airplane. So, Roberto walked over to the airplane door he would have walked through about an hour before. At this point his dad leapt up very excited, shouting ‘No, Roberto!’ I wonder why? His dad walked up to sort out the toilet issue.

Back in England, we passed though customs easily (I had the luggage before the others arrived – aliens that they are!). Mike got his stamp in his new passport, so the old one is now relegated to history. Mike did comment that it was unusual no one questioned why he was travelling with two children not related to him. I read in the Mexico Lonely Planet that in this situation he would have been questioned for this, as many divorcing couples have their children whipped down to Mexico to avoid losing custody. But, obviously it isn’t a major hassle in Britain.

We caught the bus to the long-term carpark where der Bus was waiting patiently for us. We drove back to Hammersmith, and were home by 8:30pm. We had a message from Mum saying that Karen and Scott were trying to get on a 6am arrival the next morning but it wasn’t confirmed. I was in need of sleep, and was toying with the idea to ignore the early arrival time and sleep in instead. But, my conscience wouldn’t let me. So, I arranged to go and get them alone, and Mike would stay and let the kids sleep in for a bit.

ANZAC week in Turkey - the first 24 hours

Angela and Judith at Heathrow

Angela's diary, 17 April 2001: As I was anticipating a rush into the bathroom, I was keen to get up early to perform my morning ablutions without interruption. After quite a warm night I was looking forward to a shower before getting on a bus for the day. I convinced Mike he also needed to get up at the same time (not an easy task for my wee night owl at the best of times), but he got up and followed me into the bathroom.
The bathroom was a bit scruffy around the edges, but looked like it would be clean enough, given less population stress. Mike went into one cubicle and I the other. Mike’s shower started working, but mine didn’t have enough pressure to come out of the nozzle. As the tap was quite high up the wall, I switched to the tap, and water thundered out. Trouble is, that stopped Mike’s woeful supply – just as he was lathered up nicely. I finished my wash/shower then Mike finished his.

ANZAC Hostel

Karen and Scott decided against braving the bathroom, and I think Scott even decided against using the toilets. We packed up our stuff, and stumbled out into the bright Istanbul daylight. The brave (and England residents by some strange coincidence) among us had pulled on shorts – determined to catch some sun, and buoyed by the inviting blue sky. We were only called foolhardy by lunchtime, when clouds and wind sent us scurrying for shelter or our bags for more clothes.

We only had to wander around the corner to the square outside Aya Sofia (an old church, to mosque, to museum) to meet the bus for our tour. So, we gathered on the corner outside the hostel, and Judith and I grabbed some refreshments and nibbles from the corner shop. As we did that, Scott decided, upon reflecting on the nights stay, that he and Karen would book into the hotel up the road. The Lonely Planet just happened to say it would cost about 280 US a night and was THE place to stay in Istanbul.
Scott returned with a triumphant expression about 10 minutes later. He and Karen were booked in on their return, and he had beaten them down to around 200 US a night. Phew! We didn’t know it then, but Scott had a different set of motives to the ones we knew about. It wasn’t merely an uncomfortable night that had prompted his extravagance – but more of that later.

We wandered around the corner to the bus, and found the meeting spot, and decided to have a spot of breakfast at a rather conveniently located restaurant. While we waited for our omelettes to arrive, Channel 28 in Australia interviewed us in Turkish! John answered the questions as the rest of us tried to avoid the interviewers gaze. As we had only been in the country for about 8 hours at that stage, we couldn’t enlighten viewers too much. But the omelette was good, and John saw to it that they knew that!

After lunch, and some rasping coffee (enjoyed by Mike) we found our bus. Number 17 of the Hassle Free bus tour company. At this stage I was only glad that the company existed, had buses and knew who we were. I had booked it all over the internet, so was half expecting to find nothing as all. But, judging from the numbers on the bus, many others had done the same thing.

Kanakale ferry

Vivienne's christmas holidays

From: Vivienne
To: Mike
Date: Sun, 21 Jan 2001 09:05:45 +1300
Subject: Happy Holidays

Ain't he cool?

Benj in a hot pool

It's Sunday morning, the boys are all asleep and I thought it was a great opportunity to E-mail my friends and family. What a surprise eh? Bet you thought I'd lost your address (this is also by way of a bit of a test to see if I have the correct destination). 

We are recently back from ten days camping up north (remember we are bas-akwards: north is warm, south is cold), leaving on New Years Eve and returning last Monday. John had a fortnight off, but is now back a week, and on call. Doubtless next week he'll doing "earlies" and starting at 7am. At least it'll be a short one (we have a local holiday - Wellington Anniversary - on Monday). 

Hogmanay was celebrated at the working farm / campground / adventure park where we spent our first holiday then feeling the need of Sun, Sand and Surf, we headed up to Ohiwa Bay, on the Bay of Plenty. Where we pitched our tent and relaxed for the next 5 days, doing absolutely nothing. A real lazy time, where the highlight of our day was strolling across the white sand beach to swim in the gentle surf, build the odd castle and soak up the rays. The older couple in the neighbouring tent have been coming up for years, and knew all the best places to find tuatua's (an indigenous shell fish) and mussels and little rock oysters, and kept feeding me ('cause the other philistines in our camp refused to even try them) steamed and smoked delicacies. Scrum!!! Toxic Blue Green Algae? What's that??? (shell fish collection - particularly mussels - has been banned up and down the North Island to the presence of this noxious weed infiltrating the mussel beds, though apparently the Bay of Plenty is unaffected).   

I've attached a photo of the trip, hoping your mailer can handle them. If you have problems let me know and I won't do it again. 

Better go and roust That Boy from his bed. We are supposed to be popping around for morning tea at a neighbour's (No.9) before another (No.15) gives birth to her third (a second girl). Unlike our street in Edinburgh (Durham Road South), where Benjamin was, for a long time, the only baby (and John and I was The Young Couple!!!), Huntleigh Park Way is full of kids, mostly boys (of the 17 we know personally, only 3 - soon to be 4 - are girls) and all between 6 and six weeks. 

I'll write again soon...

Love from

Vivienne