Task number one after breakie today was to try and get through to Grandma to wish her a happy birthday. With the help of a local phonecard and the phone in the hotel room, I was trying valiantly, however to no avail. Apparently she was out partying with some friends.
I went to the "Terror House" which is the common name for 60 Andrassy - the location of the secret police and scene of many atrocities under the German and Russian occupation of Budapest. The place has apparently been criticised for not having enough exhibits on the holocaust, however I saw some pretty graphic footage of bodies being bulldozed during this time, that was more than enough. Despite a slightly depressing environment, I spent a couple of hours there, reading all that I could. It really hit home for a number of reasons.
Back to the hotel and I was fortunate enough to get through to my Grandmother after a number of attempts to wish her a happy birthday.
Then I set off for the amazing thermal spas that are always talked about. I did the Aussie thing and walked there, taking much longer than I should have. When I negotiated my way past the security guards and worked out how to get into the place (it was almost as much of a maze as Venice) I looked at the indoor "thermal" spas and thought no thanks. They looked little more than spas that are anywere else, and the water did not look inviting. So I went to the outdoor pool, which; while palatial in appearance, was just that - a pool. Well one big pool with a couple of little ones off to the side.
It was great to have a swim though with the upcoming long haul flight, and I interspersed this with a few sessions in the saunas. The last was 100 degrees celcuis and was just like having a heater blown onto you, which I guess is what was happening.
Next I decided to walk to the train station at the other end of town to get to the Sziget music festival. I eventually made it there and again used my skills from Venice to negotiate my way to the main stage. I saw an Aussie / fosters flag and made my way over there. To my surprise, there was a big group of Aussies who were very welcoming. It was nice to have this, especially right at the end of the trip.
Afterwards I made my way back to the hotel to have a shower and pack my bags. Then to the airport and a lovely day of planes and airports to finish this trip off. Budapest - London - Hong Kong - Sydney, and that was all she wrote until next time! Thanks for reading the story of my european vacation.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Bratislava
I could not believe I was about to subject myself to another five hours of train travel after sixteen hours a day earlier, however this was my chance to see Bratislava.
The station seemed typical of what you would expect in Eastern Europe - organised chaos. I quickly grabbed a map and set off to look at the old town and historic sites. Along the way I managed to walk past the palace of Slovakia's leader when the changing of the guard was taking place.
I managed to find one of the places that Lonely Planet recommended for traditional local fare. Further analysis of the map help me formulate a plan of attack for this whistlestop tour. The man at work was quite amusing, the opera house a stunning piece of architecture as described, however the castle was interesting.
I had left the best until last in the hope of being able to spend some time in the jewel of Bratislava's crown. The only issue was that the castle was undergoing a ful renovation so you could not get in and look around. The museum was open, however I had read that it was ordinary with the exception of being able to climb one of the castle's towers from there. Once I was informed that this was not available I decided to give this a miss as well. Also interesting was the fact that this castle was never really used from a Slovakian perspective. I read that the Hungarian royal family were there when the Turks occupied Budapest, also that the original castle burned down and the current version was built in the 1950s. I guess every city needs an icon or landmark and in Australia we are blessed with many that are natural and man made.
With a bit of extra time up my hands I had a look in a couple of shops. I realised I had no idea how to say hello and goodbye, so used the tried and true "ciao". I also managed to pick up the six dollar t-shirt that B-Money and I had been searching for the entire trip.
Rush hour back at the station and a woman who had pushed her way past me went down like a bag of s&^% about ten seconds later. I swear I had nothing to do with it, however did join the other locals having a good chuckle at her expense - due to the karma.
A crowd of people had gathered around the departures board and were waiting for a platform to be announced. I realised this was for my train so I joined them. Normally this would be one of those annoying things that you put down to being in a less developed place, however I recalled the exact same thing happens at Heathrow.
The train was so packed that I had to use one of the emergency makeshif seats that you unfold from the wall. After a few stops I managed to move into one of the compartments and really was feeling the Euro train travel experience.
Back in Budapest, I managed to get to the place I had tried the evening before. A funny thing happened which was they served my main course about a minute after the entree, so it was backed up and sitting on the table. Afterwards I had a couple of beers at a local bar, and while I was keen for more, I realised was in for a big one on the following evening, so some rest was appropriate.
The station seemed typical of what you would expect in Eastern Europe - organised chaos. I quickly grabbed a map and set off to look at the old town and historic sites. Along the way I managed to walk past the palace of Slovakia's leader when the changing of the guard was taking place.
I managed to find one of the places that Lonely Planet recommended for traditional local fare. Further analysis of the map help me formulate a plan of attack for this whistlestop tour. The man at work was quite amusing, the opera house a stunning piece of architecture as described, however the castle was interesting.
I had left the best until last in the hope of being able to spend some time in the jewel of Bratislava's crown. The only issue was that the castle was undergoing a ful renovation so you could not get in and look around. The museum was open, however I had read that it was ordinary with the exception of being able to climb one of the castle's towers from there. Once I was informed that this was not available I decided to give this a miss as well. Also interesting was the fact that this castle was never really used from a Slovakian perspective. I read that the Hungarian royal family were there when the Turks occupied Budapest, also that the original castle burned down and the current version was built in the 1950s. I guess every city needs an icon or landmark and in Australia we are blessed with many that are natural and man made.
With a bit of extra time up my hands I had a look in a couple of shops. I realised I had no idea how to say hello and goodbye, so used the tried and true "ciao". I also managed to pick up the six dollar t-shirt that B-Money and I had been searching for the entire trip.
Rush hour back at the station and a woman who had pushed her way past me went down like a bag of s&^% about ten seconds later. I swear I had nothing to do with it, however did join the other locals having a good chuckle at her expense - due to the karma.
A crowd of people had gathered around the departures board and were waiting for a platform to be announced. I realised this was for my train so I joined them. Normally this would be one of those annoying things that you put down to being in a less developed place, however I recalled the exact same thing happens at Heathrow.
The train was so packed that I had to use one of the emergency makeshif seats that you unfold from the wall. After a few stops I managed to move into one of the compartments and really was feeling the Euro train travel experience.
Back in Budapest, I managed to get to the place I had tried the evening before. A funny thing happened which was they served my main course about a minute after the entree, so it was backed up and sitting on the table. Afterwards I had a couple of beers at a local bar, and while I was keen for more, I realised was in for a big one on the following evening, so some rest was appropriate.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Budapest
This city certainly appreciates the value of tourism and is aware of its beauty as well as that of some of the locals. Namely, a couple of attractive young ladies boarded the train just out of town and walked through handing out maps and answering questions. One of them even offered to help me carry my bike box when we arrived at Budapest, however I politely declined, citing chivalry.
I did struggle getting the bike box to the hotel, however fortunately I had picked one close to the train station. After a shower and change of clothes (I felt smellier than I have ever felt) I set off for a quick look around town.
Later; for a change, I went on a bike tour. It was a great way to see the main sights of the city quickly, and it did not hurt that the host was, you guessed it, an attractive young lady.
I wandered around afterward and found a restaurant that looked fairly genuine. The older bloke working there was not big on the chat or service, however I guess he was around 50-60 and had lived through some pretty dark times in the city's history.
On the way home I did get lost. Well let us just say I did not exactly know which direction I was headed for a while until I got my bearings. I felt a bit pompous staying in a nice hotel, however a clean shower and nice bed were very welcome. So was sleep after another 36 sleepless hours!
I did struggle getting the bike box to the hotel, however fortunately I had picked one close to the train station. After a shower and change of clothes (I felt smellier than I have ever felt) I set off for a quick look around town.
Later; for a change, I went on a bike tour. It was a great way to see the main sights of the city quickly, and it did not hurt that the host was, you guessed it, an attractive young lady.
I wandered around afterward and found a restaurant that looked fairly genuine. The older bloke working there was not big on the chat or service, however I guess he was around 50-60 and had lived through some pretty dark times in the city's history.
On the way home I did get lost. Well let us just say I did not exactly know which direction I was headed for a while until I got my bearings. I felt a bit pompous staying in a nice hotel, however a clean shower and nice bed were very welcome. So was sleep after another 36 sleepless hours!
Venezia and l'ultima Apertivo
I filled the hire car with petrol and returned to the Mestre office of Avis, only to find it was closed for two weeks. I left the keys with the woman at the car wash, who rang the guy, who, in turn, informed me that he would come in the next day to sort it all out. Suffice to say I will be casting a keen eye over my credit card statement.
After an interesting breakfast (boiled egg, a croissant in a packet, a coffee that I did not ask for and a few other things) I set off to get a couple of errands complete. First was the ticket to Budapest, then sending a birthday present to my niece in the USA.
Next, the main activity for the day which was to go to Venice.
After I arrived, I immediately recognised how difficult it would have been to go there with my luggage instead of Mestre, with all the narrow alleyways and bridges.
I had a quick look over the first main bridge, and then decided I should acquaint myself with the lesser travelled back alleyways. I found a good place for lunch and then decided I would challenge myself to getting around to San Marco using only back alleyways. The first two turns I made took me directly to the tourist strip, however I had been past there before, so I got my bearings. Then I weaved a path through the alleyways, which was a lot like doing one of those puzzles. In fact, that is pretty much what it was.
I cheked out a few of the main sights and then for another challenge, returned to the station without using a map.
Back in Mestre, I thought I would go for a final apertivo or two, then return to the hotel and hopefully have a shower, change, and grab my luggage and set off to the station.
I found the only cool bar in Mestre and the two turned into eight and I had time only to grab my luggage and head for the station.
When the train arrived, one of the station masters was adamant that I could not take my bike box on board. Fortunately there were plenty of others lined up for questions, so when he turned his back I threw it all on there. He continued on and I think my response was something to the effect of "I have heard what you said, I respect it, and have taken your comments on board. However this stuff is coming with me."
Now for the fourteen hour train trip to Budapest. Three passport checks in Slovenia, you certainly know about it when you change from Western to Eastern Europe. I guess it made up for the border control near Chamonix!
After an interesting breakfast (boiled egg, a croissant in a packet, a coffee that I did not ask for and a few other things) I set off to get a couple of errands complete. First was the ticket to Budapest, then sending a birthday present to my niece in the USA.
Next, the main activity for the day which was to go to Venice.
After I arrived, I immediately recognised how difficult it would have been to go there with my luggage instead of Mestre, with all the narrow alleyways and bridges.
I had a quick look over the first main bridge, and then decided I should acquaint myself with the lesser travelled back alleyways. I found a good place for lunch and then decided I would challenge myself to getting around to San Marco using only back alleyways. The first two turns I made took me directly to the tourist strip, however I had been past there before, so I got my bearings. Then I weaved a path through the alleyways, which was a lot like doing one of those puzzles. In fact, that is pretty much what it was.
I cheked out a few of the main sights and then for another challenge, returned to the station without using a map.
Back in Mestre, I thought I would go for a final apertivo or two, then return to the hotel and hopefully have a shower, change, and grab my luggage and set off to the station.
I found the only cool bar in Mestre and the two turned into eight and I had time only to grab my luggage and head for the station.
When the train arrived, one of the station masters was adamant that I could not take my bike box on board. Fortunately there were plenty of others lined up for questions, so when he turned his back I threw it all on there. He continued on and I think my response was something to the effect of "I have heard what you said, I respect it, and have taken your comments on board. However this stuff is coming with me."
Now for the fourteen hour train trip to Budapest. Three passport checks in Slovenia, you certainly know about it when you change from Western to Eastern Europe. I guess it made up for the border control near Chamonix!
Bormio - Passo del Stelvio - Mestre
I woke in time for breakfast today and was all set and organised to check out, cimb the Stelvio and then head off to Mestre. What is it they say about the best laid plans of mice and men?
To cut a long story short, both Visa and MasterCard's payment systems were down at the same time for the first time in history (to go with me being the first Australian customer of the hotel poste in history). A quick trip to the bank, who, surprise, surprise had the same problem, a lot of trust and a promise to return after my ride to pay.
Now on to the Stelvio (literally). Forty off hairpins, sign posts every kilometer and a good quality road surface. There was a couple of tunnels that looked very old as they had absolutely no lighting and the parts I could see did not look new. I rode very slowly through those parts, although I was going uphill so that is my excuse.
I was passed by three people. One young lad who looked like he would be a pro one day. He sat on my wheel for a while before I pulled over and virtually slowed to a stop (not hard when you are going up hill). Another in Team Highroad Columbia kit, with team arm and leg warmers to boot. Not the Columbia HTC kit though, so not sure whether he was a pro or not. Then some other guy who flew past with high cadence.
There was a section in the middle with a number of hairpins all at close range. So it made it easier to climb up a short wall. Then it opened out for a while which made it harder, before going back to a number of turns towards the end.
At the top, there were heaps of people. Motorcyclists, cars and a number of cyclists. Many souveneir stands, a BBQish looking area with people in leiderhosen, and snow not far away (ie: you would walk to it). I was wearing a jersey and knicks only, so put my jacket on promptly. I also used the earlier credit card debacle as an excuse to pick myself up another jacket from the top. With a working credit card and two jackets for warmth, I descended confidently, yet carefully.
I sorted the bill and then weaved my way back to Trento the way I had came a few days earlier. The shortest route was over the Bormio, next the Stelvio. So I was taking the longest route, however had had enough of hill climbing, be it in a car, bike or other.
I eventually made it to Mestre, where the old boy from the hotel was only too happy to help me pack my bike. I found a great authentic venetian seafood restaurant nearby and had a great meal. Then a great sleep after a pretty big day.
To cut a long story short, both Visa and MasterCard's payment systems were down at the same time for the first time in history (to go with me being the first Australian customer of the hotel poste in history). A quick trip to the bank, who, surprise, surprise had the same problem, a lot of trust and a promise to return after my ride to pay.
Now on to the Stelvio (literally). Forty off hairpins, sign posts every kilometer and a good quality road surface. There was a couple of tunnels that looked very old as they had absolutely no lighting and the parts I could see did not look new. I rode very slowly through those parts, although I was going uphill so that is my excuse.
I was passed by three people. One young lad who looked like he would be a pro one day. He sat on my wheel for a while before I pulled over and virtually slowed to a stop (not hard when you are going up hill). Another in Team Highroad Columbia kit, with team arm and leg warmers to boot. Not the Columbia HTC kit though, so not sure whether he was a pro or not. Then some other guy who flew past with high cadence.
There was a section in the middle with a number of hairpins all at close range. So it made it easier to climb up a short wall. Then it opened out for a while which made it harder, before going back to a number of turns towards the end.
At the top, there were heaps of people. Motorcyclists, cars and a number of cyclists. Many souveneir stands, a BBQish looking area with people in leiderhosen, and snow not far away (ie: you would walk to it). I was wearing a jersey and knicks only, so put my jacket on promptly. I also used the earlier credit card debacle as an excuse to pick myself up another jacket from the top. With a working credit card and two jackets for warmth, I descended confidently, yet carefully.
I sorted the bill and then weaved my way back to Trento the way I had came a few days earlier. The shortest route was over the Bormio, next the Stelvio. So I was taking the longest route, however had had enough of hill climbing, be it in a car, bike or other.
I eventually made it to Mestre, where the old boy from the hotel was only too happy to help me pack my bike. I found a great authentic venetian seafood restaurant nearby and had a great meal. Then a great sleep after a pretty big day.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Bormio - passo del Gavia
I woke shortly before 10am!
A walk around town, followed by general procrastination. I could not believe that I needed motivation to get on my bike and attempt to climb one of the world's great passes.
After a final, short rain delay, I set off at about 330pm. My legs felt so heavy and it seemed like I was crawling, which I most surely was.
One thing I had not checked was how far it was to the start of the climb. I knew the Stelvio started in town, however was not sure if it was 10km or 40km to the start of the Gavia.
Fortunately it was the former, however it was a real grind getting there. The climb itself was ok at the start hairpins, smooth surface, etc), however it became progressively harder as I went along. The hairpins stopped about halfway, the quality of the road surface deteriorated at about the same time, and the steepness increased. Not that I was complaining as this was definitely better than work! One positive was that the short burst of rain made the air very fresh.
This was a real grind. 17km or so and 2,650 elevation at the top, although I do not know what the elevation of Bormio is to calculate the change.
I arrived at the top and was amused by the pet goat running around. Funnier to look at than the albino ferret on Alpe d'Huez, however not as friendly. I had a cup of hot chocolate with a massive amount of whipped cream on top. Professionally done, as these people would not want to start an avalanche! Also a piece of cake that seemed to have chocolate in it.
A careful descent and I realised just how steep some sections were. Even the bit at the start leading up to the start of the climb had a decent gradient. A good day's work all in all.
A walk around town, followed by general procrastination. I could not believe that I needed motivation to get on my bike and attempt to climb one of the world's great passes.
After a final, short rain delay, I set off at about 330pm. My legs felt so heavy and it seemed like I was crawling, which I most surely was.
One thing I had not checked was how far it was to the start of the climb. I knew the Stelvio started in town, however was not sure if it was 10km or 40km to the start of the Gavia.
Fortunately it was the former, however it was a real grind getting there. The climb itself was ok at the start hairpins, smooth surface, etc), however it became progressively harder as I went along. The hairpins stopped about halfway, the quality of the road surface deteriorated at about the same time, and the steepness increased. Not that I was complaining as this was definitely better than work! One positive was that the short burst of rain made the air very fresh.
This was a real grind. 17km or so and 2,650 elevation at the top, although I do not know what the elevation of Bormio is to calculate the change.
I arrived at the top and was amused by the pet goat running around. Funnier to look at than the albino ferret on Alpe d'Huez, however not as friendly. I had a cup of hot chocolate with a massive amount of whipped cream on top. Professionally done, as these people would not want to start an avalanche! Also a piece of cake that seemed to have chocolate in it.
A careful descent and I realised just how steep some sections were. Even the bit at the start leading up to the start of the climb had a decent gradient. A good day's work all in all.
The Gran Fondo Charly Gaul
An early start, and thanks to a phone call from Australia at 4am it was even earlier. Suffice to say I rose, switched my phone to silent, then back to bed.
After packing all my things, I went downstairs expecting breakfast at 7am, mainly because the concierge had mentioned they would have it specially then for us racers. When I learned it was not on, the 24 bottles of fruit juice suddenly became very useful. Well let us day 18 after a decent effort.
I put my bike together and did a quick check of all the things I had. Riding out of the carpark my brakes were squealing loudly and I knew that this would not do in a Gran Fondo. So I went back to the car and did my best to clean the rims and brake pads with a rag. I was a bit flustered, which is not a great way to start, however it does get the adrenaline pumping and a light sweat - which is what you want.
When I arrived at the duomo, I realised I should have been checking what I had rather than being worried about my rims. I had two spare tubes, however no pump! Now I was really flustered, however calmed myself by looking at the two possible scenaios - ie: I get a flat, or I do not. Worry about the former if and when it happens, if the latter, then no need to worry.
Now for those who do not know, a Gran Fondo is kind of like the City2Surf on bikes. I do mean the City2Surf as well, as there may not be 60,000 people, however there are often 8,000 people. Add the bikes and it can be a recipie for disaster, or more specifically - crashes.
This was no regular race. Not like the Tour de France or any of the races I have been involved with, where there is a neutral roll out and then you hit it a few kms out of town. These boys (and girls) go from the gun. 40-45km/h straight away. Oops, there is a cafe table area in the middle or the road, a right hand turn, traffic islands, etc. We would go from 40+to 0 due to these things and the effect on braking in traffic I mentioned yesterday.
I really had to back it off as we were 10km in and I thought there is a long way to go to be maintaining this speed. Also two mammoth hills, or should I say mountains, however more of that later.
I had my Sydney jersey on and I heard a voice say "are you Australian". Scott became my ride buddy and thank Christ he had a pump! I was updated on cricket scores, and not just once - text messages from Scott's old man through the ride. Super stuff!
Now the hills, I mean mountains. Well there was one, that we climbed from two different ways. The first was about 15km and 1,300 metres elevation gain. The second was about 20km and 1,300m elevation gain. We thought the second was 10km, and as it was at the finish, the extra 10km uphill was quite deflating. There were a few rest stops along the way and Scott and I stopped at each one.
Once over the line (only a couple of hours behind the winner) we went to the customary pasta party and then bumped into Gilberto Simoni. Gilberto was happy to pose for photos with us and seemed happy to know we were Australians and had come to what is now really his event. The only problem was the old bloke taking the photo did not know how to press the button, so the moment will have to live in our memories.
Overall, a great experience, however at the time it was extremely difficult.
Afterwards, a short four hour drive from Trento to Bormio.
After packing all my things, I went downstairs expecting breakfast at 7am, mainly because the concierge had mentioned they would have it specially then for us racers. When I learned it was not on, the 24 bottles of fruit juice suddenly became very useful. Well let us day 18 after a decent effort.
I put my bike together and did a quick check of all the things I had. Riding out of the carpark my brakes were squealing loudly and I knew that this would not do in a Gran Fondo. So I went back to the car and did my best to clean the rims and brake pads with a rag. I was a bit flustered, which is not a great way to start, however it does get the adrenaline pumping and a light sweat - which is what you want.
When I arrived at the duomo, I realised I should have been checking what I had rather than being worried about my rims. I had two spare tubes, however no pump! Now I was really flustered, however calmed myself by looking at the two possible scenaios - ie: I get a flat, or I do not. Worry about the former if and when it happens, if the latter, then no need to worry.
Now for those who do not know, a Gran Fondo is kind of like the City2Surf on bikes. I do mean the City2Surf as well, as there may not be 60,000 people, however there are often 8,000 people. Add the bikes and it can be a recipie for disaster, or more specifically - crashes.
This was no regular race. Not like the Tour de France or any of the races I have been involved with, where there is a neutral roll out and then you hit it a few kms out of town. These boys (and girls) go from the gun. 40-45km/h straight away. Oops, there is a cafe table area in the middle or the road, a right hand turn, traffic islands, etc. We would go from 40+to 0 due to these things and the effect on braking in traffic I mentioned yesterday.
I really had to back it off as we were 10km in and I thought there is a long way to go to be maintaining this speed. Also two mammoth hills, or should I say mountains, however more of that later.
I had my Sydney jersey on and I heard a voice say "are you Australian". Scott became my ride buddy and thank Christ he had a pump! I was updated on cricket scores, and not just once - text messages from Scott's old man through the ride. Super stuff!
Now the hills, I mean mountains. Well there was one, that we climbed from two different ways. The first was about 15km and 1,300 metres elevation gain. The second was about 20km and 1,300m elevation gain. We thought the second was 10km, and as it was at the finish, the extra 10km uphill was quite deflating. There were a few rest stops along the way and Scott and I stopped at each one.
Once over the line (only a couple of hours behind the winner) we went to the customary pasta party and then bumped into Gilberto Simoni. Gilberto was happy to pose for photos with us and seemed happy to know we were Australians and had come to what is now really his event. The only problem was the old bloke taking the photo did not know how to press the button, so the moment will have to live in our memories.
Overall, a great experience, however at the time it was extremely difficult.
Afterwards, a short four hour drive from Trento to Bormio.
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