Tuscany Looks and Tastes Like Tuscany Should

Our ride from Rome to Figline Val d’Arno in Tuscany went pretty much as expected. The GPS took us the most annoying way possible, the combination of traffic lights and heat annoyed us as we tried to leave the city and Tuscany looked just like Tuscany should - if you’re to believe film and TV, which you should. It’s absolutely stunning, and any road higher than sea level gives you the most picturesque, warmly lit and hazy views of golden fields, vineyards and castles.

We were happy to add a new home comfort to our thus far inanimate list of travelling traditions - Richard and Kim, our friends from Sorrento, had decided to stay at the same camp as us again. This marked the third campsite we had been at together so the scenery may have changed as we all travelled north every few days, but we now had real neighbours and friends.

We didn’t find them until after we had enjoyed another tradition – our travel habit of eating dinner at the camp restaurant on ride days. The food was good but it could have been rubbish for all I cared – I ordered a glass of wine that sounded like my cup of tea (sweet and sparkling) and it tasted just like Moscato, my favourite drop at home and something that hasn’t passed my lips since we left. As it turned out, it was Moscato, but we didn’t figure this out until we saw the same wine on a menu the next day, with subtext stating as much.

That next day was a goodun. We set out with every intention of going to San Gimignano, a walled city just over an hour away, but we didn’t want to go on the motorway. We tricked the GPS into taking us past a few small towns and around the windy roads that cut through the countryside. The first small town we came to was Greve, a village we intended on visiting that night with Richard and Kim for an annual Wine Tasting Festival that just happened to be on.

As it happened, we never made it past Greve. We decided we couldn’t be bothered with the trek to San Gimignano after the late start we had given ourselves, so we parked up to check out Greve. Greve had been on our list since the idea of visiting Tuscany had been but a sparkle in our eyes, when Courtney saw a salami shop in Greve on a travel show on TV. The salami shop was closed for siesta but we found plenty more to keep us occupied for awhile.

We bypassed the festival, saving that fun for our evening out. Instead we wandered the streets of the town, checking out a wine cellar and eventually settling on by-the-slice pizza from a little takeaway shop that sold every kind of beer you could ever imagine, hundreds of different bottles in every shape, size, flavour and price. We ate our pizza and drank our beer on the shady steps of the church across the road before turning back for home.

It was only a matter of hours before we were back again with Richard and Kim, this time armed with a wine glass and festival guide each. You got both for 10 Euros and the guide included 7 free wine tastings. Olive oil, biscotti and preserves were all free to try and as we discovered many of the vendors weren’t to bothered with clicking off our tasting passes either, so there was a lot of bang to be had for our buck.

Despite attempting to find vino blanco (white wines) to start with, most of the festival was full of red. The real star of the show, besides the incredible Tuscan Olive Oil, was the new love of my life – Vin Santo. Courts had tasted a few wines at the camp cellar the previous night and had told me of one that was made essentially with raisins. I hate raisins and didn’t think much of the idea until we put two and two together and realized he had been talking about this one. The grapes are left until they just about fall off, and the result is a syrupy thick dessert wine that tastes almost like a mulled wine, like it’s spiced. It’s not though, it’s au naturale, and the Italians traditionally dip biscotti in it, especially around Christmas time. I tried it with biscotti twice and in a glass three times (once was finishing Richards, who didn’t quite see it in the same light as I) and it was love at first through fifth tasting.

When the sun had gone down and we had each developed a warmth of our own by the glass, we found a restaurant on the main square and settled in for dinner. I chose Lemon and Rosemary Risotto and oh my goodness it was the most amazing flavour you can imagine. The after taste of the herbs made me think of Lavendar Ice Cream while the soft hints of lemon made a thick, creamy winter food taste light and summery. Courts made his way through pasta and was so enamoured with Kim’s beef stew that he then had a second dinner of that too. Richard filled himself to the brim with a thick manly T-Bone that Kim eyed up for the sharing, and us girls finished it all off with Pannacotta in a white grape syrup.

Thoroughly full and still slightly hazy, we were all very ready to collapse when the time came to turn back. Richard had been very kind and driven us all in, which not only meant that he had to spit the majority of his tastings out but that himself and Kim had to turn their rental van back from usable transport to comfy accommodation while Courts and I just faded into the shadows of our tent. Eternally grateful for small luxuries, we slept in the lingering cloud of a wonderful night with lovely people and incredible gastronomy.

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Munich is Awesome And That's All There Is To It.

When we woke up after the last night of PartySan it was still raining. The tent was soaking wet and dripping through in places, and we had to get to Munich. I hit the snooze button for an hour while we waited for the rain to ease and luckily it eventually did. We packed up the bike in record time and were on the road by 7.30am.

I really wanted to get to Dachau, the first Concentration Camp built in Germany during the war. The weather was overcast and cool for most of the ride there, until about half an hour before we arrived when the clouds disappeared and Summer arrived. The sun shone through and the weather warmed and I rode with my face to the sky (the benefit of riding pillion) basking in sunshine, our first real sunshine for weeks.

The only thing is, as the weather got warmer it didn’t really stop getting warmer and so when we got to Dachau it was absolutely roasting. We took off most of our gear but this just mean we had to carry it – two helmets, two jackets, Courtney’s riding pants (I kept mine on) and our valuables bag. It would have been easier if we had been able to navigate the memorial grounds. We followed a few people with audio guides in the direction we thought we wanted to go but after seeing the SS guard houses and the foundations of an SS Office building we passed a kindergarten and realized we weren’t in Kansas anymore. There were still  parts of the wider camp area you could see in that direction but the walk between them was long, the spaces in between used for other, modern means and our gear was very hot and very heavy.

Funnily enough it was when we walked back from this area that Courts found the barracks and the entrance gate and a whole lot more interesting stuff not far from where we had started but in the opposite direction. By this time we were seriously struggling with the heat, especially me with armoured pants still on, so we had a quick look and then decided it wasn’t worth it anymore and headed back to the bike. It’s a shame because I had really wanted to go to Dachau and I thought I would get a better understanding of what happened. I expected the eerie feeling I experienced visiting Ground Zero in New York City, the same feeling I’ve heard lots of people describe in similar situations, but I felt nothing and really got little from it except what I read on the tourist signs. I can say I went though, and I’m glad I did.

Courts was very skeptical of the campground, which was thankfully only 20 minutes away by this time. It’s called The Tent and that is essentially what it is – one huge tent where you can elect to either put down your own mattress on the floor or pay a bit extra for a bunk bed. We were booked in to sleep on the floor because we were intending on leaving early the next day anyway but with Courts being worried about our stuff getting stolen (although it did turn out there were lockers) and a sopping wet tent in our bag, we decided to put our own tent up in the field next to the shared tent. We figured it would dry out and provide a bit more security for our stuff.

With the tent up and almost dry within minutes, we stopped by reception to get a tram ticket and a map of the city. The guys there were awesome - as the entire campsite turned out to be actually – and pointed out the best things to see with our limited time and the best ways to get there. The tram was easy to catch even if we did end up going the long way about finding a tram stop, and we were away.

Once again Germany’s road works companies were out in full force so it took a bit of roundabout navigation to find our way but it wasn’t long before we were on one of the main shopping drags in town. The street was wide and open only to foot traffic, and despite the fact the shops were all closed (it was Sunday evening) there was still a lot of people around. We stumbled upon awesome architecture the whole way and then eventually found Marinplatz. The square is home to the old town hall which is probably the coolest building I’ve ever seen. There are so many intricate details, so many different statues, monsters and gargoyles (which aren’t gargoyles Monty tells me but I forget the name) and even a dragon climbing up one corner. Some of the statues move three times a day which we unfortunately missed out on but the whole building was just crazy awesome.

After the compulsory Hard Rock Café stop we walked through some of the narrower old town streets until they opened up and unveiled the Residenz palace. It wasn’t the most impressive buildings we’ve seen but either way I rubbed three of the four Lions outside for good luck (rubbing all four is greedy and gives you bad luck apparently but as you’ll read the damn things didn’t work anyway) and we continued on our way.

Not far from the palace is the bottom of the English Garden, a huge central city park that hugs the river. It’s so big that in the northern, more wild end of the park live actual real life Sheppards. We weren’t interested in them though because there was far more interesting sights to see. Although we never saw any nudists (apparently they’re common) we did find the surfers. Right in the middle of the city, below a bridge at the edge of the park, is a man made standing wave. Queues of insane surfers in thick wetsuits jump off the sides of the river to brave the concrete edges, alpine waters and huge numbers of spectators. It’s really cool, not least of all because they are literally at the very edge of the park, surfing in the shadow of big city buildings.

The English Garden was to become Courtney’s second favourite place on Earth (after Wacken) when we found the Beer Garden the camp guys had recommended to us. There are a few in the gardens but the Chinese Tower beer garden is one of the biggest and most well known in the city. Under a 5 story Chinese tower, which had a traditional German band playing halfway up, tables stretch as far as you can see. Every single table is full of people with massive litre steins of beer and huge piles of food.

There are a few food areas but they all sell the same things – sausages, schnitzel, every variation of pork you can think of and lots of potatoes. I had schnitzel and herbed fried potatoes and Courts had potatoes and pork knuckle. We shared a giant pretzel and this amazing dip made of butter, soft cheeses and onions. I tried the apfelwein (Apple Wine) after Courts chose it by mistake and he of course had a huge jug of beer. We sat at a table with a friendly German guy and devoured as much as we could.

10 minutes into dinner it started spitting but we happily continued eating under the shade of a massive tree. It was about two thirds through dinner that it started bucketing down and while the tables around us emptied and every sheltered spot overflowed with patrons we ate on like troopers. Eventually, in a sundress that seemed like a good idea 3 hours and 28 degrees earlier, I had to take shelter with everyone else, or at least try. Courts soldiered on, blinded to the bulk of the weather by the ecstasy of finding such a place on Earth.

When we left an hour or so later, the rain had eased and we were able to walk to the tram comfortably. We could have happily spent a week in Munich and I think it’s the first place we’ve been to that I’d consider living in, other than maybe London, or Beauvoir if I was older. Even without time on our side, the city was easy to see in one evening. I think it took us a couple of hours to see all the main sights that had been recommended to us, plus a couple of hours at the beer garden getting to know the ‘real’ Munich. Well worth it, even with the rain.

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Fairytales Up Close

After some much needed sleep and feeling a bit better, we had two full days to explore Prague. There wasn’t much on our must-do list, and we had a lazy start to day one. We figured out public transport the best we could and took a bus and then – eventually – transferred to the metro, when we realized the instructions from camp didn’t say ‘tram’ and so the red line tram wasn’t coming.

When we ascended from the metro we were a bit lost for bearings with a vague map and even vaguer idea of where we wanted to go. Luckily our natural inclination turned out to be the right one and we found ourselves meandering down a main road. We saw lots of McDonalds restaurants, more than any other European city we’ve been to, and a lot of street vendors selling sausages. There were lots of clothing shops and lots of general city-ness, but not much of the magic I thought would jump out at us the second we entered the city.

All the same, we wandered through souvenir shops and found a cool little market selling everything from painting prints and clay steins to fresh fruit and vegetables. We discovered along the way that every second shop in Prague sells one of two things – Bohemian Glass, or Marionettes. As different from each other as is possible, but both quintessentially Czech, and both expensive.

The streets turned to cobblestones and the cobblestones became more and more uneven as the cityscape got older. My favourite buildings were ones painted with frescos. More than just covered in decorations or being decorative by design, these buildings are massive lived and worked-in artworks. A few of them surrounded the first of our must-sees, the Astronomical Clock in the old town square. We arrived just after the hour so walked a couple of minutes to get my must-have Hard Rock Café pin before returning in time for the 2pm chime. On the hour, every hour, two small windows open above this most intricate of clocks and figures of the 12 apostles dance behind them.

The display wasn’t quite as impressive as my imagination had hoped for, but it was impressive all the same and it was kind of nice to be back in tourist-land, surrounded by hoards of people looking at the same thing you are because the same books and websites told them to. It’s funny how so many people avoid or complain about tourist-y spots and the crowds that go with them but for me – an already self-confessed tourist-y spot lover – those crowds have become another home comfort away from home.

Along with the way we set up our tent, the taste of the first milky hot chocolate off the camp stove, the feel of the clothing-stuffed sleeping bag cover I use as a pillow and the familiar squish between Courts and the gear when I get on the bike for another long ride, tourist crowds have become my normal. I’ve learnt how to navigate through them, recognize several languages amongst them, hold onto my belongings and note the people to avoid. Tourist crowds are to me as the queue at your local coffee shop is to you. You recognize the locals, know where to wait for your order, which quiche tastes best and where the newspapers are kept. It might not be significant to you, as it wasn’t to me. We know these things subconsciously, but you miss them when they’re gone. And so, a crowd of tourists makes me feel welcome amongst the many changing landscapes of our current nomadic lifestyle.

We left the crowd and wandered in a direction we thought might lead to water. It did, although not to the famous Charles Bridge we were aiming for but at least to the next one along, from which we had a good view. We crossed it anyway and ambled through narrower streets and over more uneven cobblestones as we made our way towards Charles Bridge. Above us loomed Prague Castle, not as fairytale-like as I thought from the pictures but spectacular all the same. We never made it up the hill to see inside but it was definitely one of the more attention grabbing castles we’ve seen.

Later I looked back at the pictures I saw when planning the trip, to see what made me think it would be more magical. I recognized all of the vantage points the photos had been taken from, having taken photos there myself. I recognized the buildings and the landscape in these photos now, but the feeling in real life just didn’t live up to the pictures. It may have been the gloomy weather or the Wacken-fatigue affecting me, Courts thought it was nice. It was, but so was old-San Sebastian, old-Barcelona and old-Amsterdam. However, San Seb had more colourful locals, Barcelona had more enticing alleys and delicious pastries, Amsterdam had more canals. Prague had all of these things but just nothing that made it jump out as unique. We kind of figured it out when we realized it’s more beautiful and ethereal from a wider view point, and up close it’s less special.

For me the highlight of Prague was definitely the food, starting at a little restaurant we found after finally crossing Charles Bridge. We successfully bought nothing from the street vendors and made it across with our pockets un-picked and then stopped for lunch. My main meal was just a normal chicken and chips meal we would be able to get in New Zealand, but it came with potato soup and bread. The soup was crazy good – even Courts said if he knew the soup would be that good he would have just had that for lunch – and the bread came with the best butter of my life. I don’t know what it was flavoured with but I’d eat it every day of my life.

The food was again a highlight the following night when after a very lazy start and a mid afternoon wander, we settled on a medieval restaurant for dinner. We chose it because the tables outside were on giant swinging frames, so your seat stayed level with your food but as a whole you gently swayed in the breeze. We ended up choosing to sit inside after all that though, sitting in a side room and making friends with an old couple from Holland on one side and a couple from Spain on the other. Courtney had a huge 1.3kg pork knee on a mini spit while I had more potato soup and fried cheese. The food is just insanely good and even though on day two we only had a few hours in the city, it was all worth it for that meal.

Thankfully Germanys food is just as good, because it’s PartySan time.

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Moshpit Fever

Somewhere between Judas Priest and our tent, I got sick. I arrived at the tent with sniffles I hadn’t had before and woke up well and truly flu-ridden. Someone at camp called it Moshpit Fever and they’re probably right – after the insanity of the Judas Priest pit, all those people, and the feeling I was getting run down before that, I would have been lucky not to catch a cold.

Although I was the only sick one, everyone at camp was pretty run down on day three. Some of them had spent 15 hours inside the festival to see the earliest and latest bands with no break and so the general consensus was that a slow start was to be had. We ate breakfast, mucked around, chatted, and I mixed this up by blowing my nose every 2 minutes back at the tent.

Eventually we could no longer justify missing the bands that were on at any given time and we made our way into the festival grounds. A few of us wanted to see Mayhem so we headed towards their stage. Courts and I have seen them before – I suppose if you’re not into metal, they’re the sort of music that’s ‘just noise’ as opposed to one of the many other metal genres with clean singing. The lead singer usually wears corpse paint and a costume but in the late afternoon light of their time slot at Wacken, he was just in jeans.

The crowd at Wacken was better than we we saw them at a small venue back home, but neither of us were in the mood for something so dark at that time of day. Mayhem are known for being very extreme in attitude and the singer dedicated a song to ‘all the religious leaders in the world’ screaming ‘time to die’ before launching into it. We obviously don’t follow them for these views, just the music, and while I knew to expect such statements, at Wacken it put me off the show. The thing about Wacken is that it’s nothing like the stereotypes of heavy metal, everyone is happy and peaceful, celebrating music and making new friends. It just didn’t feel like the time to be spouting negative anti-religious crap in such a positive environment. I suppose their reputation is all part of their act now in a way, they almost had to say it. Almost.

After Mayhem we saw Iced Earth, one of Courtney’s must-see acts of the festival. I didn’t really like them so Courts would probably be better off describing the show. He loved it and thought they played really well but thought that Matt Barlow needed to sing true to his own talents instead of trying to replicate Ripper Owens (who had replaced him in the band at one stage). I guess I agree, although I hadn’t heard them before. The main reason I didn’t like them was that Barlow was singing… wrong. I can’t compare him to Ripper Owens in terms of Iced Earth but even without that comparison, you could easily tell when he was singing songs written for him and when he was singing songs written during the Ripper era. He has a much lower, gravely voice than Ripper Owens but in the songs written for Ripper he would try and replicate the higher pitch and clean screams he does. He just didn’t work and came across like he was pushing himself unnaturally. Oh well, Courts still loved it.

We caught the last 10 minutes of Skeletonwitch, a lesser known American band who played in the Headbangers Ballroom – a tent set up for the smaller bands. We had a break then and so made our way back into the Medieval Market to have that delicious food one last time. I wish we had it every day, it’s so good. A little too good in fact because we ended up rushing to get back to the stages for Avantasia. Avantasia are a metal super group who I hadn’t heard much of before. They were on Courtney’s list of ‘Important Bands I Had to See with Him’ but by this time I was exhausted and entirely sick of walking around, unable to breathe and blowing my nose all the time. We made a deal, and I saw the first four songs before leaving him with friends we found from camp.

As it turns out I saw more of them anyway as I had to pick up our phone from the charge station on the way back to camp and there was a big screen nearby showing the act. It’s quite good because they have this screen set up well away from the insanity and if you want to see an act but aren’t quite up to the crowds you can go there instead. Everyone sits on the ground and eats and drinks and watches it as though it’s a movie – in fact after the headliner finishes each night they do show a metal-related movie there.

Eventually I made it back to camp but even with earplugs I could still hear Motorhead (gutted I missed them) playing a good 20 minute walk away and that was on top of the various stereos around. Between that and being unable to breathe it took me a good two hours to get to sleep. In that time, Courts watched the rest of Avantasia and then Kreator before making his way back to check on me. He didn’t quite make it that far, making friends with random Germans as he does, and playing drinking games at their camp for a couple of hours.

It sucks that I missed a couple of awesome bands I wanted to see, but I was exhausted, I couldn’t do it any longer. As far as festivals go though, Wacken wins. I discovered Helloween, (sort-of) saw Ozzy, saw Primal Fear and caught Judas Priest on their farewell tour. For that alone (and the fried apple skewers at the market) Wacken was worth it.

Day three down, time to move on.

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Cooking With Gas

Our little solar panel isn’t the only new toy we have. One night in Barcelona we decided to go for a ride to the Carrefour supermarket down the road just to have a nosey. Despite the fact it took us an hour to get home in the dark thanks to one wrong turn and outer-Barcelona’s insanely illogical highway system, the trip proved rather fruitful because we bought ourselves a kitchen.

OK, not a kitchen, but as much of one as can fit on the bike – and even then we weren’t sure it would. We bought a little gas cooker - I think they’re called Billy’s? – for 12 Euro, a gas canister for 2.50 and a saucepan for 5 Euro. 7 weeks in and we had never had any way of cooking at camp. We ate cereal and long-life milk for breakfast (long-life milk takes up a whole aisle here while fresh milk a tiny shelf in the deli), patisserie food or homemade baguettes for lunch, and takeaways or restaurant meals for dinner. We never blew our food budget, but we had to go out and about for a morning coffee and we started to actually miss making food for ourselves. If you told be 2 months ago that the novelty of eating out for every meal would wear off I’d never have believed you.

We bought pasta snacks, coffee and Colacao (Spains version of milo, I’m addicted) on that first trip and sitting down to a hot drink in our own tent was… bliss.

Needless to say, with a little rearranging the Billy fit on the bike (with it’s spiky element sticking up out of the bag) and the saucepan too, stuffed in and around clothes in one of our panniers. Since we first got it, we’ve had the luxury of a fridge at camp and so we’ve expanded our repertoire to hamburgers, sausages, steaks, fried and scrambled eggs, and mashed potato (the just add water and milk kind out of a packet, we didn’t go out and buy potatoes!).

The little Billy has earned its keep, saving us plenty of money and making us plenty happy. When it rained a few days after we got it, I was able to have cookies dipped in hot chocolate – my favourite comfort food ever. Courtney’s very happy to be cooking his steaks every night, and sitting down with an ebook and a beer (thanks to the aforementioned fridge) to enjoy them. We would never have got Billy over here on the plane, and we survived well without him, but he’s part of the family now and we will be sad to leave him behind in 8 weeks time.

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Eating in Spain

I don’t consider myself a fussy eater. I used it, and I guess I am, but maybe the point is I either don’t allow myself or haven’t been made to feel like one in a long time. I don’t eat any seafood or fish except tuna, and I suppose I am very fussy with meat, it’s just that I’m so used to eating whatever fits in with everyone else that I forget how fussy I am.

The deal is, that when I was around 6 or 7, I remember hating the fatty parts of chops and steaks. We ate mostly mince or sausages anyway because it was cheaper and we were kids, and other than that the family preference tended to be chicken. So I didn’t grow up eating meat meat and like those of us that aren’t French may think eating frogs and snails is gross, I just don’t like meat.

I can’t just be nice and clean cut and rule out ‘meat’ and be a vegetarian though, that would be too easy. It’s the flavour of blood and the texture that I don’t like, but I can happily eat salted meats like corned beef, bacon or ham, and I have no problems with flavoured mince (tacos, chilli con carne, hamburgers) or sausages (although they’re not really meat are they). The only thing I don’t like is just meaty meat. Steaks, chops, casseroles, they’re all out.

The thing is, I eat everything else. There isn’t a fruit or vegetable I won’t eat. Throw a carb my way and I’ll take it. Dairy, no problem. Three out of four food groups I’ll try anything and if I wouldn’t buy it for myself, I’ll still happily eat it if it’s in front of me. I’m more than happy to eat extra servings of the veges served at dinner, or the salads and breads at barbeques. I can cook meat for others no worries. If meat might be an issue I simply say I’m vegetarian or only eat chicken and people don’t have an issue with that because it’s fairly common nowadays.

So for 20-odd years I’ve lived this way and on the odd occasion I’ve had to explain myself but generally speaking it’s been easy goings and I’ve got on fine. Ireland was easy, England’s food was awesome. Once I figured out the word Poulet (chicken) in French, life was easy in France too. Spain, well, that’s a whole other kettle of fish.

Fish - literally, because if you don’t eat seafood, you’re not faring well in Spain. 90% of every menu includes seafood, and no one eats chicken. It took us forever to figure out ‘Pollo’ is Spanish for chicken because they just don’t eat it. It’s been easier in Benicassim, perhaps the number of English tourists here warrants more chicken dishes, but San Sebastian I found chicken twice total, out of every menu we looked at, which is lots, because we perve at the menu of every place we pass.

In Sant Mateu, on the way to Benicassim, our very lovely restaurant/hotel hostess wrote out a note for me that reads ‘Please recommend a dish suitable for a vegetarian’ in Spanish. Funnily enough as soon as I had it, we got to Benicassim and I haven’t had to use it, but that was after a particularly difficult experience in Sant Mateu itself when I was tired and over-hungry. I take after my Mum in that as soon as I’m over-hungry – which can happen in the click of two fingers – I feel shaky and sick and I need to eat now or I get very agitated. I couldn’t read the menu, Courts had taken forever in the shower while I ate salami from the packet to try and tide myself over, the English speaking hostess was on a break and her impatient Spanish speaking boss wanted us to order yesterday. He, as with a lot of wait staff in Spain, wanted us to order the second we sat down and tried to sell us on a set menu in order to force us to make all our decisions at once. Set Menus are very common and very good value throughout the European countries we’ve visited so far, but in this case I was tired and couldn’t recognize any words except for the Queso y Jamon York (Cheese and Spanish Ham) Pizza, which is what I got but only after the English-speaking hostess came back and explained to him I didn’t eat seafood or meat. The look on his face was kind of puzzled because the town was tiny, they didn’t get tourists often if ever, and not eating seafood or meat is just not Spanish.

It makes me wonder, all this, if I had grown up with seafood and steak, if I had grown up in Spain, would I like this food? Or is it ingrained in me that I eat this way, like a baby fussy from the very start with solids? One bright side of Spain is that every table has a paper tablecloth over the linen one, so on one occasion I was able to draw a fish with a cross through it for a waitress that didn’t understand. For now, I’m making do, and I’m trying everything I end up with – even if it means leaving a small pile on the side of my plate for Courts and eating the Paella around them when a drawing of a fish doesn’t translate to ‘seafood’ and I can’t draw langoustine.

What challenges have you had with food while travelling? Are you a foodie or fussy?

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First Impressions of Dublin

We arrived in Dublin at 8pm on a Friday night. The taxi driver who took us the short distance from bus to hostel recommended seeing the Book of Kells, History Museum and Grafton Street on top of our plans for the Guinness Brewery, Kilmainham Gaol and National Museum of Archaeology. When he stopped outside our hostel, I was immediately in love with Dublin.

The street was wide and steep - well, steep for Dublin, which is basically flat. Either side and right to the end, tall red brick buildings lined up tightly together, ivy clinging to window frames and wrought iron banisters reaching into the depths of the pavement for basement level apartments. It was everything I imagined Dublin to be, although more spread out. The imposing buildings leaned precariously overhead, if only figuratively due to their size.

The door to number 42 was huge, far bigger than any door should have to be. It was almost disappointing when we were let in and the door didn't supply us with a heavy creak and instead swung open to reveal a brightly lit reception area. We left our bags in the biggest dorm room I've ever seen, staking claim on our beds in the process. With a quick look at the two big lounges, we took little time in heading out to explore.

Down our street and to the right a few hundred metres we hit O'Connell Street - Dublin City's main road. First impressions - awestruck. The road is a beautiful open expanse of cobblestone, wider than any road we have at home and yet the same number of lanes. Footpaths melt into street which then melts into a huge centre strip full of trees and statues before the process repeats in reverse and you find yourself at the other side. The effect is awesome, it seems silly to throw so much praise on a road, but as far as roads go it's a great one. As the first impression of the city it makes you feel like anything's possible, the world is your oyster - just like you should feel when you set foot on new ground.

The only downside was that occasionally the melting effect worked a little too well when you found yourself stepping out onto the road unknowingly and having to pull yourself back again. If I was pushed to find another downside, it would be that after our week in Athlone, Dublin wasn't Irish enough. It was a beautiful city, but nothing jumped out to say 'Hi, you're in Ireland' like it had in Athlone. At least not on that first night.

We wandered on down O'Connell Street looking for something to stop us, and as many of you know by now, it was Eddie Rocket's that did it. Drawn in to the Irish-American Diner by my love for everything 1950's, we fell in love with Dublin for the second time in one night. When we eventually settled into bed for the night, we did so with full bellies, a little overwhelmed but very much looking forward to exploring what more Dublin had to offer.

www.flickr.com Penelope_nz's Dublin photoset

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Penny and Courtney Present: The Novelties of Athlone

• The free phone number here is 08000, said Oh-Eight-Thousand. At home we call 0800, said Oh-Eight-Hundred. So it’s similar enough to home, but that’s what makes it stand out.
• At home we have boxes of miniature chocolate bars called Cadbury Favourites. Here, the same box is called Cadbury Heroes. That’s not the best bit – one of the choices inside is a tiny bar-shaped Cadbury Crème Egg. It’s so obviously the best idea Cadbury has ever had. Come on New Zealand, catch up!
• Streets Ice cream is called HB. It’s really weird to see the Streets logo, which is really recognizable and the second biggest Ice Cream brand at home, but with HB under it. HB stands for Hazelbrook Farms, which is cute, but wrong. It’s Streets, people!
• In the pub, they have glasses and a jug of water free for anyone to help themselves. This is normal. What’s not normal is the bottles of flavor next to them. It’s cordial, like Thrifty or Ribena at home, but it’s in Olive Oil bottles, you know with the thin spout? I should have figured it out for myself but I didn’t get what the flavours were and if you were supposed to add a splash or full flavour or what. I’ve just never seen it done before.
• Every call is a toll call. Same as when I lived in Australia, but I never thought about it here. At home, all local calls are included in your monthly fee for having a phone line. If you call out of your wider region, it costs extra. Here, all calls cost money no matter what. It seems backwards.
• Irish people call winter ‘summer’ – OK so that’s my attempt at a joke but seriously, this is not summer. At home we have fairly mild summers; it’s not as crazy as Australia or the US. A warm summer’s day might hit 27 degrees Celsius if you’re lucky. In Ireland, we were sitting around 11 max. All the rain makes for a beautiful countryside, but the cold was well outside my expectations.
• The tour guides mention hay making as if it’s a novelty. I don’t know who it’s aimed at, which country doesn’t make hay, but us Kiwis see hay bales and think ‘Oh look a hay bale’. Apparently not everyone does.
• Speaking of Tour Guides, they think Alpacas are some crazy exciting animal worthy of a zoo. Our Tour Guide in Galway stopped the bus to explain that we were about to come up to a field of an animal you would only see in Dublin Zoo, something bizarre looking, that you would never expect to see in a field. I’m thinking what the hell is it, are there Lions just sat there behind a fence? Nope, Alpacas. Very cute Alpacas, but just Alpacas.
• They have Wi-Fi on buses. Is this a worldwide thing? I know NZ is well behind the times in terms of technology, but for us, Wi-Fi on buses is exciting. Who would have thought, Wi-Fi on a bus?!
• Being told to “Mind yourself” is a good thing. If I told someone at home to mind themselves, they’d turn around and ask me what the hell for. It’s like our Mum’s telling us to mind our manners when we were young – if an adult told us that now we’d think they were out of line. We’re fully grown adults, we can figure these things out for ourselves thank you very much. Here, everyone says it. When you leave a shop, the friendly shopkeeper tells you to mind yourself. When you leave a taxi, you tell the driver to mind himself. It’s more like wishing someone safe journeys.
• Castles are as common as houses. I tripped out on all the old stuff in Ireland when we first arrived. After our tours throughout the week, I’m all castled out. Every few minutes there’s a ruin or a castle. I thought they were for Kings and Queens but no. Think you’re important? Build a castle.
• Irish people say ‘like’ in the wrong place in a sentence. The word ‘like’ is ridiculed as a sign of low intelligence sometimes. Reality TV stars use it every second word. I use it all the time myself, as do lots of people I know. It’s a buffer word, a nothing word that fills a gap in a sentence where an ‘um’ might usually go – “They were, like, getting ready to go out”. Here, it’s at the end – “They were getting ready to go out, like”.
• Chips (Fries) are a vehicle for flavour. In New Zealand, we have chips with tomato sauce. Maybe with salt and vinegar if we’re daring. Here, chips are like crackers or bread – something to put other, more exciting things on. Cheese, curry sauce, mince, garlic sauce, bacon, chilli – you name it, it can go on chips. Best idea ever.
• No one drinks at home. Irish people think house parties – where you invite your friends over to chat and drink and play music and drink and dance – are weird. At home, most drinking is done at home. If you’re going out, you have ‘pre-drinks’ where you get ready and chill out and get a few drinks in you because everyone knows once they’re out on the town the drinks will be that much more expensive. When you run out of money or time, you might even go back to a friend’s house for ‘after-drinks’. Often, there’s no need to go out at all, because the party’s at your place. Here, you meet at the pub, drink at the pub, and go home when you’re done. Apparently it’s a novelty that because of the recession, people are starting to buy wine at the supermarket and drink at home.
• There are hair straighteners in the toilets at pubs. Why you would need to straighten your hair when you’re already out I don’t know, but that’s just me, because I know a lot of girls who would love this idea.
• Laundries are in the kitchen. I don’t know if it’s just older houses, I think it is, but apparently it’s not as weird as I think it is to have the clothes Washing Machine next to the sink, under the bench. Right by the oven and the fridge. Laundry rooms are a new fandangled thing put in new fandangled houses.
• At home, Irish pubs use a particular font, an Irish looking font. Don’t ask me why it’s Irish looking; I think it’s supposed to look Celtic or something. But in Ireland, they use it too. For pubs, shops, whatever. When I pointed it out to Joanie, she had never noticed before.

So obviously this list is 100% tongue in cheek. It’s funny the things we find weird in a new country, things that are completely normal to its residents. What have you found novel or bizarre on your travels?

www.flickr.com Penelope_nz's Athlone photoset

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Sugar-Free Cookies!

This is another recipe from the lovely Squish. These look like muesli bars but they taste a thousand times better, they're not hard but they don't crumble and they're not dry. Holy Rock n Roll, they are amazing and I will eat any that come near me. Also if you want to add chocolate chips, the cookies turn out just as well, just not sugar-free. I also believe some successful experimentation has been done with Feijoas in place of Bananas.

Healthy Banana Cookies

Ingredients 

• 3 ripe bananas
• 2 cups rolled oats
• 1 cup dates, pitted and chopped
• 1/3 cup vegetable oil
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Method 

• Preheat oven to 175ºc. 
• In a large bowl, mash the bananas. 
• Stir in oats, dates, oil, and vanilla.
• Mix well, and allow to sit for 15 minutes. 
• Drop by teaspoonfuls onto an ungreased cookie sheet. 
• Bake for 20 minutes in the preheated oven, or until lightly brown.

Are you Living Your Dream Life? Part Two: Caitlin

Who are you and what is your life like now?

Hello Dancing in Barefeet readers! I am Caitlin from Diary of a scatterbrain. Who am I you're wondering? I am a 23 year old recent college graduate trying to find my place and purpose in this crazy world! I consider myself a dreamer, believer, sister, daughter, friend, & designer. So far the ride has been a lot of fun and very unpredictable. I am currently working in an interior design firm, getting ready to move to the beautiful Minneapolis, Minnesota, waiting for my U.S. Marine to come back from our first deployment and just learning how to be a "grown-up" one step at a time ;).

What would you do all day, week or year if you were living your dream life?

Oh goodness - just a great question. If I could live my dream life for one year I would pack up my life in one suitcase and move to Italy for one year. I would live just like Liz from Eat, Pray, Love and eat & drink my way through Italy! I would love to experience Italy, I think it is such a beautiful place and the culture amazes me. I really do hope to do this someday (sooner than later!).

What would your job be?

My job would be a professional wine/food taster! How amazing does that sound?

Why would it make you happy?

Why wouldn't it make me happy is the better question. The idea of traveling somewhere is always an amazing experience, you learn all about yourself while learning about a new area and new culture. I believe stepping out my comfort zone makes me a better, happier, and healthier person. Even if turned out to be a horrible experience, I would learn from it and become a better person because of it. Also, I can't image not being happy spending a year in Italy eating pasta, drinking red wine, and soaking it all in.

So what's stopping you?
 
Money. Plain and simple- I am broke. I am paying student loans back, saving for my apartment,  and I am searching for a new car, All these things are basic needs in my life right now so the idea of running away to Italy (as amazing as it sounds) is not super realistic right now for this time in my life. I wish that I could be one of those people who has NO fear, just packs up and leaves but that just isn't me. Once my life gets more settled and in order, I relaly do hope I can make this dream a reality!

Thanks for reading all about my dream life! :) Stop by my blog and say hi! I would love to hear from you and hear all about your dreams! 

Thanks so much Caitlin for contributing to the Dream Life series! 

If you would like to participate, I'd love to have you on board. Use the Contact Me tab to email me your answers to the Dream Life questions. I'll reply to get your photos and let you know when you will be published. All I ask in return is that you link back to Dancing in Barefeet on the day you appear.

Are you living your Dream Life?

Forget A-Ha Moments, I'm About to Bliss-Out

Once again I failed miserably at following the Bliss challenge. But we already knew that right? Or at least made an educated guess to that effect. All was not lost however!

Monday: Nail Art Just Plain Nails

I absolutely love nail art. When I was 14 I owned yellow nail polish purely for painting the centres of daisies. I never considered myself a 'beautician-type' but when I needed some spare cash and decided nails would be a good side-income, those decorative inclinations came flooding back. A lot of my clients come especially for nail art and the chance of being one of a kind, so I do a fair bit of it on a regular basis, but what I really love are the big challenges, like a tropical island with real sand or a 3D Hello Kitty created directly onto the nail.

I didn't do anything spectacular on Monday but one thing that is really making me happy right now - I have real nails! Not the best thing to vouch for when I make my income from acrylics, but I am a nail biter from way back, so this is a big deal. I had acrylics on for awhile, so my nails had grown underneath. When we were in Napier 3 weeks back, I got bored and ripped them off (a BIG no-no, don't do it!). I borrowed a file from Courtney's sister and tidied them up, never expecting them to last. Although they aren't in the best condition due to how rough I am with them, I've kept them long for 3 whole weeks just by keeping chips and sharp edges filed. With nothing to pick at or play with, I ave no reason to bite them. You may scoff at the idea, but I'm super proud.

P.S. Monday was my darling Soul Buddy's 25th birthday and my nephew's first birthday, so big Happy Birthday's all round!

Tuesday Animal Rights 

Animal Rights are on the Bliss List because I love my furbabies and I'm a big supporter of the SPCA. Every year at Christmas I take a stash of towels and canned food down for them, so I thought I'd do the same. I'm a terrible person because I just didn't have time. That's a shoddy excuse, because out of everything I don't have time for, I should have made time for this. I guess I can start by telling you all to go here if you want to support the SPCA. A lot of family pets became strays after the Christchurch earthquake and SPCA branches all over the country are working to rehome them, because there aren't enough people in Christchurch that are in a position to adopt right now.

On the bright side, on Tuesday I did get to spend time with Squish, because we ended up doing her nails. We also did them in our winter pyjamas, which made me very happy. Winter pyjamas are as blissful as flannelette sheets, which is a lot.

Wednesday

...was a big old nothing day for me. I didn't do anything spectacular as a was mid-meltdown. Unless you call meltdowns spectacular.

Thursday Musicals

Oh how I love thee. I was thinking just today about London, one of our first stops when we get to Europe, and how we get to see Wicked at the West End. We're also seeing Lion King at the West End the night before we leave Europe to come home. I've already seen it in Melbourne and on Broadway. I hated the movie (Don't hate me, I just can't stand sad animal movies, which let's face it, all animal movies are) but I'm a little obsessed with the incredible spectacle that is the Lion King stage production.

http://www.chicagogigs.com

On Thursday I planned to watch the Sound of Music which I love almost as much as I love Mary Poppins and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. It didn't happen though, I was busy working with Miss Nails, but at least I had a good gossip. Thank goodness for day dreams, Wicked here I come.

Friday needed no reason to be Blissful other than that it was the end of a very stressful week. We went to a beautiful friend's 25th birthday drinks and made it home in one piece. Saturday was not much better. Pouring rain was lovely to wake up to but didn't help my chances of getting a hungover Courtney out to a Farmer's Market. I woke up feeling like I was hungover despite being 100% sober (and not eating the Cheesecake Factory mudcake that called to me at the party) and the day took a long time to pick up. I've been a ball of stress this week and topped with the headache I carried around all day, I decided to skip Courtney's brothers Welcome Home (from two months working in Noumea) party in favour of some much needed me-time. Courts was a bit disappointed but went off with his sister to the party without me. I'm glad I stuck to my guns. I got some more packing done, a bit of writing, and a lot of relaxing. Not the kind where you sit and watch TV or read a book, but the kind where you are left to your own devices, no distractions and you get stuff done. Bliss.

Sunday Roast

After talking about missing out on Sunday Roast's the other week, I bit the bullet and made it happen. I have a big-ass chicken to go with potatos, kumara, pumpkin and mushrooms. I'm making my world famous Chocolate Mousse and Blondie is bringing Feijoa Crumble, or so I've been told. Everyone who loved roast night when we did it every week will be there, along with a few new faces. Everything I love about life will be in one room this very evening and that is enough Bliss to cover my week in it's entirety. I can't wait.

What did you Bliss-Out on this week?

Bliss Continued!

Friday: Long Drives

Hot on the heels of our weekend in Napier, Courts, his sister and I drove down to Whangamata with Toby to meet up with Squish, Lobster, Monty, Nurse B, Wozz and two of Monty's friends Jimothy and Debs for our annual post-cricket-season weekend away. Monty and Jimothy were the only actual cricketers but that didn't mean we couldn't bask in the glory of their season! Friday night we all drove down after work and after a slight detour (read: I missed the turn off and no one will let me forget it) we arrived at Monty's uncles bach around 10pm. This bach is amazing, sleeping a huge number of people and boasting a three car garage and a room specifically designed for a projector screen.

The first Friday of our annual weekend away is usually a little alcoholic and this was no exception. Wozz had tequila and I doubled my count for 'Alcoholic drinks in 2011' with tequila shots alone, never mind the bottle of wine (Moscato, of course) I added to it. I thought my tolerance would be a lot worse than it was after 3 months of not drinking but I didn't do too badly and I had barely a hangover the next day.

Saturday

One of the best days I have had in a long long time. I woke up early (thank you body clock) and cleaned up the mess from the night before while chatting with Debs about our European plans. As others slowly rose, Jimothy started the barbeque and we were soon stuffing ourselves with a feast of bacon and eggs. Monty and Jimothy meandered off for a round of golf and the rest of us headed down to the beach. The water was freezing but the weather was beautiful and warm. Only four were brave enough to venture into the water, and that's if you include Toby. Even though he is terrified of waves he ran into the breakers at full speed and had the time of his life!

Everything is going to be OK :)

We walked the length of the beach to the inlet used by boats and then wandered up the main road. I decided to fore go sugar-free for the weekend and shared a huge chicken burger with Courts followed by Feijoa Crumble and then an Ice Cream all to myself. Go hard or go home I say! The sugar high wasn't unmanageable but I spent a good hour or so sleeping off the resulting crash. Once the golfers had found their way home we bought a smorgasboard of munchies at the supermarket and Jimothy once again took skillful control of the barbeque. The night was much quieter than the previous as we ascended to the movie room to play Wii on the projector and several of us dozed off in our respective corners.

Sunday

Sunday started much the same way as Saturday, clearing up from the previous nights barbequed bananas and ice cream. This time it was Nurse B's turn to wow us with buttermilk pancakes, stewed apple, blueberries and maple-cinnamon butter which was amazing. The only bad thing about the pancakes was that there weren't more! After breakfast I took Courtney's sister for a driving lesson around the quiet roads of the town, the first chance she had to drive her new car.

My entire week was summed up for me by a singular comment by Wozz as we all sat out on the deck together - "We need to sit around a table eating cheese and talking crap more often". It's true, and I'm going to try and make it happen.

It's Only a Little Bit

Tuesday. A day for updates in a Sugar-Free Life. I'm struggling.

Am I struggling? Or is Sugar-Free becoming Real Life? I think I'm struggling.

I think the real issue is that I am becoming less conscious of my plight. I don't know if that is an indication that I'm getting really good at Sugar Free or that I'm on the verge of relapse but I'm 99% sure it's the latter.

www.best-chocolate-recipes-online.com

At the Farmer's Market on Saturday, there was a home made chocolate stall. Instead of saying 'No, I'm Sugar-Free', my best friend of a phrase, I took their free samples. Not only that, but when Courtney suggested we buy a bar to share, I didn't object at all. I hadn't cheated all week so I was due a treat, and the second we sat down with that bar at night, there was no way any would remain in the morning. I am well and truly still an addict. Just as an alcoholic can not suddenly start having a single beer after work, I can't yet trust myself to have 'just one', of anything.

I need to refocus, concentrate on saying no. I need to stop making excuses and allowing the lines to blur. It's hard though, when the lines blur themselves. There is so much information out there, contradicting itself. Refined sugar is bad, this we know for sure. Artificial sweetener was fine until I realised it is just sugar redefined. No more Coke Zero for me. Honey is a beautiful, nutrient-rich whole-sugar. Too much is still bad. Milk is all natural, can I keep drinking that?

Fruit is natural sugar recommended in 5-plus-a-day lessons the world over but some fruits may as well be stirred into coffee, the nutrients so low compared with sugar content. Watermelon, I'm looking at you. A website listing the best fruits based on nutritional value vs sugar put berries, apples, pears and plums at the top, and so I try to focus on them. It says vegetables should make up the majority of our 5-plus-a-day and so carrots stand in for my morning tea. Of course I would choose a sweet vegetable.

I feel like, in order to shock myself into refocusing, I should eliminate all artificial sweeteners, honey and fruits. I don't want to but I can't let myself keep sliding down. Last week KFC, this week chocolate. 'It's only a little bit' is edging it's way into my vocabulary and it's not welcome.

Any ideas?

Bliss, Anyone?

I'm still failing at being Blissful. It shouldn't be this hard to be happy, right? Not that I'm unhappy per say, but my days are so busy, they're not being filled with my favourite things. Let's recap.

Gardening

www.onlinegardenertips.com

Monday I write 'gardening' in my book. Although there's not much point starting a garden at a rental house we won't be in for much longer, I thought maybe I'd go and find a nice plant or something and plant it into a nice pot. I love being in the garden or at the very least having lots of plants around me both outside and within my home. It didn't happen though, and to be honest I have no idea what I did on Monday after work. Not much, probably.

Cold Beer

This one I did achieve - kind of. My older sister and her family moved down south to Queenstown this week, a 2 hour flight away from us, and so Courtney and I met her at the Horse and Trap to say goodbye. It was nice being in a pub atmosphere, and Courtney had a beer, but I stuck with water and my share of a bowl of wedges. It was awesome spending time with her and I miss her and her partner and sons already!

High G's

As in, the musical note. This has a back story - I'll tell you whole story this week sometime - but basically, I just wanted to sing. I don't really like singing at home though when their are people around because I always feel like I'm annoying them. I don't sing quietly - I can't! So I try to keep it down when there are others at home. Even with Courtney I don't like to sing so much because then he makes a fuss over it and I hate fussing! Anyway, I didn't have a solo moment on Wednesday, so it didn't happen. I want to get back into lessons and singing in public when we get back from Europe though so I will have my chance.

http://barbecue-tips.com

Barbeques

Well, I had wanted to eat food cooked on the BBQ but instead, I put the BBQ itself on Trade Me. Not quite the same thing right?

Cooking

I felt like cooking something challenging and amazing, Julie and Julia-style. Instead, I had a nail client - at least it was the lovely Miss Nails to keep me company. I shall take this opportunity to wish my dear friend a ridiculously awesome birthday on Monday. I love you and I hope we are in each others lives forever and a day. Cooking can wait.

Dancing and Causing Trouble Good Food and Markets


You guessed it, didn't happen. I used to sing and dance around the house while I did the house work. Now I'm never home alone and our house isn't big enough to put music on away from the bedrooms like our last house was. I thought I would make plans to go out with the girls but then the ever present Nana in me reared her ugly head and I stayed home. I am boring. Sigh.

On the other hand, we did go our weekly breakfast date to the farmers markets and that was bliss. Great food, awesome atmosphere and wonderful company. Definitely the highlight of my week.

Sunday Roast/Entertaining


We used to have a tradition in my house of having Sunday Roast every weekend. It was open door and anyone could turn up. They knew that the more people that turned up, the less food there would be to go around, but we never went without. They also knew that no matter who turned up, it would be a good night. We created our own little family. We could rely on each other and love each other and never have to say it out loud, we just knew. We had the guitars out most nights, we played and we sang. We went through a phase of watching Iron Chef America every week and we would often start the night with the highlights of WWE.

http://de.academic.ru

I sometimes felt like Mumma Duck, cooking away amongst steam and splatter, people coming into the kitchen for a chat and more often to see when dinner would be ready. I loved every second of it. As I served everything onto the table and called the troops to eat, I loved watching them fight over the best bits and settle in on bean bags and chairs and couches and floor space, chattering away. It's exactly how I want my home to be when I have children, an open door, a place of solace, somewhere our friends and my children's friends can trust will always be there.

Unfortunately, we had to stop doing it while we save for Europe. I wanted to do a one-off repeat but Courts doesn't really like not knowing who will show up and not having his Sunday evening to himself. That's OK, it's not for everyone, there were nights when I wished I could go to bed early but knew someone would show up for dinner. 90% of the time though, it was my weekly bliss with my handmade family. I'll miss them while we're away.