Dogs on trains . . .

The Scandic Crown Hotel in Göteborg is huge.  Seven floors and 338 rooms.  So breakfast is a frenetic, noisy affair.  It is surprising to see the number of Swedish families staying here.  We guess that they come in for a weekend in the City.  We had missed out on the pancakes yesterday and were determined to have some this morning.  Got down to the buffet breakfast about 9 am and true to form, plenty of food.  No pancakes.  Doesn't help when there is a male sports team there and some of those 'growing boys' were taking 6 pancakes or more - each!  We could see however that the staff were in the process of refilling and so, waited at a nearby table.  By the time more were delivered there was a queue waiting with 11 people ahead of us.  Thankfully the boys had had theirs and we managed to get two each this time.  Lovely crepe style pancakes, not the stodgier fatter ones.  Maple syrup, cream and jam did the trick!

We had not bought a ticket for Copenhagen as there is a train every hour - even on a Sunday - from Göteborg.  A short walk to the station and Donna goes from the Tourist Office, to the booking Office to the local Pressbyrån convenience store where she was told it was cheapest place to buy them.  Cost us the princely sum of $83.10 for each ticket - for a journey of 3 hours 38 minutes.

It is interesting to journey by train because it allows you to do a few things.  You can watch the scenery and compare how it changes over distances.  You can people watch - and in this instance, also dog watch.  Yep, we were accompanied by six dogs at various points along the journey an in this one carriage alone in this train of 13 carriages!  Once seated with their owners, they were all well behaved, but the gauntlet was thrown down by two as others passed them.  Takes a bit of getting used to.

The land between Göteborg and Copenhagen is flat.  Much of it is under crops, and there are plenty of wind turbines being farmed as well.  We see corn and strawberries, wheat and hay, just-ploughed fields, and others lying fallow.
There is the North Sea coastline, locks and canals and channels.
And dotted right along the coastline there are lots of caravan and camping areas, small hamlets that appear to be holiday homes, parklands and well serviced beach areas - everything that you would expect coastal areas to have.


We cross a bridge that is 8 kms long that crosses the Øresund Strait that is the border between Sweden and Denmark. It's hard to get photos between the pillars, but we manage a few.  And as we near Denmark there is a sight that I've only seen once before in northern Scotland - a sea-bound wind farm.  


Obviously in this area of the Strait, the coastline is well protected - otherwise you would have to question the investment in significant rail infrastructure that hugs the coast - and I mean hugs it.  There are times when there is nothing between the train line and the water other than about a 20 metre strip of sandy grasses.

We needed to be on our wits as this train does not terminate at Copenhagen.  Needn't have worried as there were lots of people getting out here.

The Station is a beautiful piece of engineering with exposed iron beams supporting a predominantly glass domed roof.

It sits across the road from the Tivoli Gardens and our taxi driver insists that even if you do not want to partake of the amusement rides, that it is worth a visit for the gardens.  We'll see.

Our hotel (hostel) is a little way from the railway station - too far to walk with the luggage in tow on cobblestones, but it is very central to much of what we want to see.  Copenhagen is one of those cities where you could spend a year and still not see all that is on offer.  The driver gives us tips on where to eat and see and take tours.  It sure helps to chat to the locals.

And finally, we have access to a full laundry.
We were starting to get sick of recycling our clothes after airing, and of washing smalls in

bathroom sinks. Donna makes four trips to make sure that everything in our suitcases is washed and dried - what a trooper!

So tonight we rest because tomorrow we hit the ground walking again.  It has done my poor feet a world of good having a quieter day today without too much cobblestone pounding.

Ciao.  See you all soon!

Caves and conflicts and cars

Yesterday when we checked in here at the Guesthouse Franjkovic, there was a notice on the wall stating that the Babac cave was the underground equivalent to the grandeur of the Plitvice Lakes above ground. We had initially thought to go and take a look at them yesterday before the worsening weather saw us hurry to see the lakes.

We leave the guesthouse where Lillian and her husband made us very comfortable in a large ground floor room (yay, no stairs) and saw us on our way with a large jar of their own honey. We are headed in to the Croatian capital Zagreb today to have a look before Donna flies out at some ungodly hour on Monday morning. Can't believe that her two weeks is almost up!

The day is still damp although thankfully a little warmer than yesterday and we all have dry clothes :-). We program Kate for Zagreb avoiding the motorways - I mean, there is no real benefit to getting anywhere in the wet. We head north on a road that is a highway but thankfully it is not restricted by view detracting safety barriers or divisions or huge sound shields on the roadsides. So we get to see lots of the countryside as we travel, a little slower than normal to take account of the weather conditions.

And just a little time after we leave the guesthouse we see the signs for Barac's Cave. Well hey, gee - at least it will be dry in the cave huh! We turn off and travel the 7.8 kms along a narrow winding road up into the hills and then down the other side. At the parking place it is still 500 m to the cave down a rocky path. Taking the umbrellas as a precaution against the heavy clouds bursting down on us, off we head. At the base of the path is a kiosk where you register for the cave tour. Turns out that they are only operated on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays at this time of the year - thank goodness it is Friday! BUT, it is still a climb up the hill in the forest to get to the mouth of the cave. Michael goes to suss it out and comes back to say that the path is uneven on timber log steps with lots of autumn leaf litter. Well - I know my limitations, so I walk back up to the car disappointed not to see the cave. But the most important thing is that Donna gets to see inside her first cave - I had not realised that she had never been in a cave before. I am nice and warm and dry in the car, reading, when they come back up the hill under umbrellas in the rain that has started to fall again. A good stop!

The report back to me? Spectacular for Donna and even Michael was impressed. Caverns with stalactites, stalagmites and stalacnites (columns), a mound of guano (bat droppings) that was over 300 years old in a cave system that houses more than 10,000 bats all balanced by stories of prehistoric bears with teeth up to 20 cms long and a human skeleton and military machinery next to it that appears to date it to one of the wars. Turns out that the shell of the cave is very thin with tree roots growing through and they think that the next major shake could bust another entry through into the cave. However both Michael and the guide concur that our Jenolan Caves back at home are far more impressive.

So we head back to the highway and north again for Zagreb. We are stunned at the number of buildings even out here in the rural countryside that show the damage of the Croatian War for Independence, known locally as the Croatian Homeland War. We can't imagine what it must be like to either be evacuated in the time of war from a peaceful life in the country, or worse still, to be in your home as it is being fired on or shelled. In every town we pass through there are multiple buidlings - civic as well as homes that are pock marked or have holes in walls from mortars. Some buildings are abandoned with large holes or collapsed roofs, or holes that have broken right through walls. Others though are still being lived in - even with this daily reminder of horrors that are still so recent - the war was resolved in 1995 - my god, that is in OUR recent past.

It is so sad to see the evidence of intolerance town after town after town.
When we reach the towns that make up Karlovac - especially Turanj the damage is the greatest we have seen. We pass a collection of military hardware - tanks, guns, planes in a park but are passed before I can turn in. So we swing back around to stop and have a look, despite the rain. Despite the rain, Michael gets out to have a better look.

The park is a collection of the carcasses of buildings, tanks, APC's, pontoon carrier and aircraft. This is a forlorn place, I suppose more so due to the persistent downpour and to a banner which proudly lauds: "Location of the Collection Future Museum of the Homeland War". These relics are the remnants of a struggle which ravaged this beautiful country between 1991-1995.

The buildings are just shells, pockmarked by bullet and shell impacts; walking through them is eerie to say the least. I won't dwell too long on this visit, as the signatures of the "Homeland War" is evident throughout Croatia. However, I will state from the four days I spent touring Belgium, the Somme Valley and visiting the remnants of the 1914-18 conflict and those forests of marble has provided me with a different perspective on military sites and monuments.

Michael returns to the car, and we prepare to move onto Zagreb. Well, we weren't going anywhere - the car wouldn't start! Stupid me has left the headlights on which had obviously sapped most of the available power to turn the engine over. I guess it was light enough for us not to notice they were on while we sat in the car waiting for Michael who was gone for only about 10 minutes. We had interior lights, but as for momentum we weren't moving. Michael sets off in search of assistance, and heads for a cafe/bar located next to the park.

The proprietor speaks very little English, however Michael makes himself understood that we were in need of help. The proprietor gets on his mobile and phones a friend who will be around in "5-10 minuta". Anyhow, this fellow (who also speaks no English) turns up in a blue VW Combi, and after much gesticulating and hand signals 'jump starts' our car. He indicates we should leave the engine running '5 minuta', then he disappears into the cafe/bar. Michael follows him and shouts him a beer or two to follow the earlier one we could smell on his breath when he arrived. Our gallant knight reappears and checks the car again, Michael slips him a handsome reward for his trouble whereby the fellow sets off back to where he came and we resume our journey. Such accommodating and helpful people in a land that is so beautiful. Lets hope that conflict in this part of the world is done - just look how lovely it is.

I'm not taking any more chances at this point of being stuck on back roads, so on to the motorway for the last 50 kms to Zagreb. Its not long before we are driving through the outskirts. Lots of high density apartment blocks reminiscent of those we saw in Slovakia. They are grey, drab, appear to be covered in mould or with concrete render peeling off. What is it about these countries that use cheap render? Or is there some hidden nasty that we are breathing in that causes concrete cancer????

We don't actually go in to the city en route to the Hotel Paradise. And as we check in the 'boss' (owner?) tells us that his daughter is living in Sydney and that he talks to her on Skype regularly - seems like nearly everyone has a link to us all!
The hotel staff recommend the nearby Zelen Dvor Restaurant for dinner and so in a light drizzle off we set. They are quite busy - always a good sign, and there are plenty of staff to tend to your every wish.
Entrees:
Njoki s gorgonzolom (Gnocchi with gorgonzola cheese) Michael
Njoki u umaku od škampa (Gnocchi with scampi sauce) Donna
Pohovani sir lokalne (Breaded local cheese) Maria
Mains:
Paprika Ramstek 'St Petersburg' s votke i vrhnje (Pepper rumpsteak 'St Petersburg' with vodka and cream) Michael
Pileći file s umakom od tartufa i rezanci (Chicken fillet with Truffle sauce and pasta) Donna
Weiner šnicl (Weiner schnitzel) Maria
Without a doubt, Donna's entree was the best meal of the night - actually, it came close to being the best meal of her trip with us - certainly one of the top two. The bill was very reasonable as well - what a bonus.
After coffee we return to the hotel in drizzle.

Getting away from it all

We had such a great time with Sarah and Alessandro that we have found another Agriturisimo business - Ca’ Serena is located about half way between Venice and Treviso in northern Italy. So after breakfast this morning we head out from the Plaza Hotel in Rimini for the 3:45 hour drive up here.

For the first half hour or so, we travel the roads out of the very urbanised Rimini in the middle of the weekday traffic of delivery vans, heavy trucks and suburban housewives going about their daily routine. Today there is hardly any sign of the tourists that now steer this economy - much of the infrastructure is shut up tight for the season - including rows of changing sheds that line the beach for miles.

Once we are out of the urban area, we see that the region has certainly not cut all its ties with the industry that once was its lifeblood. On every small stream that cuts across this delta of the Po River, there are fishing huts high on stilts at the waters edge with their nets on hughe booms, waiting to be dipped into the water to trap the unsuspecting fishes. The last time we saw these was near Les' farm in Bordeaux in France many months ago. Here though they are as thick as the flies that would swarm around them when the nets, filled with their catch (or maybe not) are hoisted from the pull of the waters.

At Savio we pass Italy's largest amusement park - Mirabilandia, although it too is shut up for the winter season it seems. The park has 30 hectares and a waterworld with 10 hectares. In fact the only sign of life that we see is a lone water skier in the lake adjacent.

We are travelling up the coast road - a very busy arterial road that carries lots of trucks involved in carting gravel that is dredged from the river system. This is the delta area of the mighty Po River, the longest in Italy. Again we find ourselves following roads that are on the top of levee banks or dikes. And again there are those fishing huts - obviously the river is a good provider given the multitude of them in this area.

There is much less development here - there are signs for camping areas, some little more than bare paddocks, offering no facilities whatsoever, others more like the recreational parks we find all up the East Coast back home. But there are no glitzy resort developments despite the Adriatic Sea being on their doorstop.

With the European winter season approaching, the crops are harvested and the land lies fallow. Its as though the Poplar trees that provde windbreaks have taken a sigh of relief at being relieved of their irksome duty and throw down their foliage in celebration, so the landscape takes on a wan, washed out look. But there are some winter crops flourishing - carrots and lambs tongue, a sweet, bread leafed plant that is used in salads in Europe. And more land is sheeted under plastic - ready to shield the tender young shoots of plants from the cooling earth beneath them.

Pumpkins are a huge crop here and we pass roadside stalls with every size, shape and variety imagineable. Some of the large ones will only be good for the dreaded Halloween celebrations as we see one claim, while others will still be good eating. Sarah had told us that the only thing they do with large ones is feed them to the cows and pigs. Aunty Flo could certainly have made enough pumpkin scones to feed the worlds armies with the fruit we see here!

Before we know it, we are traversing the outer suburbs of Venice on our way to Silea, 25 kms to the north. So we are back in the built up areas and residential precincts. There are all the trappings of people living together, huge garbage bins on the side of the streets, churches all spruced up, schools, new houses being built and roadworks - more roadworks.

Silea is still in the Po Delta and the are small canals with boats lined up for work or pleasure in a very rural setting. Quite obviously they also use some of the water for irrigation as well. Wonder what the salt levels are like being in the delta? And how does that effect the crops - maybe the potatoes are sold to the chip manufacturers already salted!

We arrive at Ca’ Serena after once again having to do a little exploring once Kates directions end in a field. This is a large farming concern operated by the Busato family who predominantly farm maize. They have just harvested. We have an apartment in a converted old building. This is nothing like the warm introduction of Il Sarale and Sarah and Alessandro. Rather, the two sides of the business are kept arms length apart. We get the distinct impression that we will be left totally to our own devices. For this time, that suits us just fine before another busy two weeks with Donna arriving at the end of the week.