Zagreb and that blasted 'spider' crew

It was just after 11 am when we left the Hotel Paradise - the large room with separate lounge room and bar was very nice. We all had a tad of privacy. Breakfast was good but predictable. Michael is craving a good old Aussie breakfast now - cereal, poached eggs and toast, FRESH orange juice and his brand of coffee!

We can't get in to our next booking at Hotel Stella until mid afternoon, so we drive in to Zagreb city. And if we ever thought that there was difficulty in parking anywhere else, Zagreb 100% takes the cake. We find that all the street parking is for 1 hour only. And even on a Saturday afternoon, the 'spider' team are alive and well and very very active. We see them on the prowl and later, actually watch them remove a car from a spot - aha, so thats how they do it. Now we know how our car was moved in Dubrovnik!!

Anyway, Frances finally finds us a spot about half a kilometre away from the Cathedral (but it will mean that Michael has to come back to feed the ticket machine!) and we set off to take a look through the Upper Town. You see Zagreb is divided into the Upper and Lower Town by a mighty cliff of about 66 m. Oh, it can be climbed by stairs - that would make about 440 steps - not likely for me thanks very much. So we just explore the Upper Town and will leave the Lower Town until tomorrow.

The Cathedral of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary holds an impressive place at the Kaptol - one of the higher points of the upper town. Its twin spires tower over the city and can be seen from many vantage points. Construction of the cathedral began in the 11th century but over the years has been adapted and added to many times adopting new styles as they became 'fashionable'. An early gothic facade was added in the 13th century, but the gothic facade that it primarily shows today dates mainly from the early 19th century.

Anyway, whatever, it is beautiful and like many of the large churches in Europe, it too is currently undergoing major cleaning and restoration works - thankfully only on the outside, so we can have a good look around inside. Probably the most stunning thing about this church is the back wall where there is a statue set of the crucifixion. But behind it there is a piece of text that covers the entire wall that is in a language that we have not seen before! It does seem to have some familiar looking letters, but lots that are not. Turns out that it is a text called Glagolitic text and has been used in parts of Croatia for millenia! The exact origins are not known, but it was in use before St Cyril visited the region while preaching Christianity in 860! They also have a saintly resident effigy lying in state - its Bishop Stiepan, the 13th century bishop who had a chapel built next to the church and dedicated it to his patron saint to give thaksfor the deliverance of Zagreb from the Tartar invasion.

As the Virgin Mary is the Patron saint of Zagreb, there is a tall column that a gilded statue of the Virgin sits atop and four angels - Faith, Hope, Innocence and Humility stand beneath her column. At its base is a four-leafed clover shaped fountain complete with bronze reliefs of a face around the base - all crowned with dying wreaths in a somewhat pagan look. And the Cathedral is surrounded on three sides by renaissance walls built to safeguard it from attacks from Ottoman Turks between 1512 and 1521. There are small huts built into the inside of the walls that still stand. These are some of the best preserved renaissance walls in Europe.

We wander down the street opposite the Cathedral straight in to the Dolac markets. These daily markets are one of the landmarks of Zagreb. There are heaps of fresh fruit and vegetables and down on the lower section down the first of all those steps we can also see the flower sellers. There are some junky bits, but not nearly as much as we have seen in many areas. Everyone is very busy and if only our markets at home could be like these ones - fresh farm cheeses - hard and soft, figs fresh and dried - some tied with bay leaves in garlands, mounds of walnuts freshly shelled and never bitter. Ah, the tastes, and the smells! THIS is what markets are all about!!

Down behind the Dolac market is St Mary's Church - it looks a little forlorn with its leaves buried forecourt where the moss is already growing. We wander around to the front and the only reason we even got to look inside was because there was a veritable army of lady parishioners cleaning it with a vigour that was amazing. I think that they were all trying to be the one who cleaned the hardest and fastest - gosh, they can come do my cleaning any old time! This church is much more sombre than the cathedral (maybe fittingly) and had only its original lights fitted with electric lights, so that it is still very sombre. Baroque in decoration, we can only get a quick glimpse.

From here we head down some of those stairs to Tkalčićeva Street where we meet Marija Jurić Zagorka - a local suffragette and author who wrote a series books titled The Witch of Grić based on the witch trials of the 17th to 18th centuries that Empress Maria Teresa later abolished. She stands in the ground beneath a lovely sundial that is the only part of the rendering on its wall - the rest has crumpled and fallen. In fact, there are lots and lots of statues throughout Zagreb, paying homage to all sorts of locals - minor and major, who have impacted on the lives of the community. This street was the separation point of property owned (and I think still is) by the church and that owned by the secular community.

The meter needs a feeding again, and so we head back to the car, passing through part of the remains of the medieval walls into Ribnjak Park which was the original site of the Bishop's ponds where the priests caught their Friday fish! Now it is a green space with a lady trying to train a very enthusiastic dog and children on a playground.

From here we walk past the Franciscan Church where it is said that St Francis himself lived for a time. Like most of Franciscan buildings, it is much simpler than other churches. There is a florist tying garlands on to the pews for a wedding later today and one of the monks is sweeping. He willingly lets us take some photos including this mural which depicts St Francis being welcomed into Zagreb. A church has been on this site since the 13th century and this church, rebuilt in the 17th century was damaged in a great earthquake in 1880 but repaired.

Back at the car, we are pulling out of the parking spot with another car is inching in behind us - yep, parking sure is a pain here. The other 'attraction' we want to have a look at today is the city's main cemetery - Mirogoj. It crowns the top of a hill and is known for its beautiful park and its amazing wall topped with multiple cupolas at its entry. Well, it takes us well over an hour to find it. Sure it crowns a hill. But so do many many mature trees! And that big wall - well, it is on the other side of the hill, so can't be seen from below. By the time we find the correct road in the honeycomb of narrow winding ones that go up into the hilly area, the light is fading fast. We do see the cupolas along the top of the wall and the impressive entry facade, but decide that a good look in the light of tomorrow is warranted (now that we know where it is!).

One suprise today has been the amount of rubbish and debris that is sitting on the streets of Zagreb. We are not sure whether there is one of those annual council clean-ups happening or what. A lot of the debris appears to be from offices while there is also rubbish from renovations. And there are lots of people scavanging and there appears to be a rather healthy trade in lumber - with Romany people seeming to be the most active sellers.

Once we get out of the city area, we come upon more of that high density housing that we have become accustomed to seeing in Europe. While there are smaller apartment blocks on the CBD fringe, it is not too far out that they mushroom to those huge soul-less blocks that see thousands of people living in very close proximity to each other, relying on public transport and the provision of close by shopping facilities. Gosh, I know that I could never live in these. And they are suffering the same fate of many of the buildings in Zagreb - decrepit, grey, broken and falling plaster. It combines to make it look very very grubby. Other areas are pristinely clean and we see a whole parade of Canadian and Croatian flags flying. We rack our brains trying to work out what the link is and find out later on the news that the Governor General of Canada is visiting - ahhh, politics - should have known it would be something like that!

After 1.9 kms walked this afternoon, tonight we are staying at the Hotel Stella. Funny shaped room, but it means that Donna has a little space of her own! They do not have a restaurant and have recommended a the Turk Restaurant a couple of kilometres away. Despite it being Saturday night, they are not very busy. None of us are really hungry so we just order mains. Michael and I shared Teleće pečenje s police krumpir (Roast veal with roast potatoes) while Donna had Teleće Turopoljski odrezak (Veal escalope Turopolje style – mushrooms in cream sauce) and we shared Pirjano povrće (Braised vegetables) and Šampinjoni na žaru (Grilled mushrooms). And if Donna's meal last night was a highlight, then this was the opposite for her, although the Roast Veal Michael and I had was moist and delicious in a light tomato based gravy.

A Dahlia for dear old Dad

FRIDAY 11 SEPTEMBER

OMG we turn the tv on for the first time last night and there we see the news reports on CNN (the only English speaking channel there is) reporting the eighth anniversary of 911. How quickly those years have passed. And we do not want to watch it every 15 minutes, so the TV goes off again. Breakfast at the Europalace Hotel was fine - you kind of get over hotel breakfasts pretty quickly here on the continent.

Helen goes for an early morning walk to check out the local weekly markets - but didn't take the camera. I am trying to finish bring the blog up to date. Lots of lovely fresh produce she reports, fish and veges. And some nice Italian clothes and shoes, all packed out with the multitude of cheap imported stuff from India and China like in any other local market place. Sitting on the promenade there are also a number of Africans peddling all sorts of touristy stuff such as cared giraffes - Italy? Yeah, whatever.

Once she is back we make plans for the day. We would like to have a look at Botanical Gardens of Villa Taranto which is located a couple of kilometres from where we are staying. Michael decides not to join us, but rather to take a bit of a longer walk around the town of Pallanza and the surrounding roads.

So, off we head in the car. Thankfully most of the markets are cleared and I follow a van the wrong way up a one-way street to exit the area. We get caught in the back streets rising away from the lake, behind cars that are parked blosing the street and parents collecting children from a nursery. And at the end of the road, we can only turn right back towards the town. As the brochure I had collected from the Tourist Centre said to just follow the road signs, I hadn't bothered to connect Kate. Before we head off again, I do just that, ask for Points of Interest near us, select Villa Taranto and follow her very clear directions. Up through the newer section of the town complete with the obligatory McDonalds!

Parking is offered - and free - at the Villa, so in we pull, parking in the shade of a large tree. Once we pick our jaws up off the ground when we see the entry gardens, we purchase our tickets and then start with? A COFFEE of course. In fact, the best coffee we have had since hmmm - not sure when. Coupled with a 'cream cake' as described by the waiter - that turns out to be a slice of the loveliest custard pie, life is grand!

And then we are off. Passed the most amazing bedded annuals edged by a piece of lawn that looks like it is freshly vaccuumed carpet. Such tiny leaves of grass, so beautifully manicured and such a wonderful edge to the pink and white and blue petals. As we move up the path, we pass by a range of fir trees, the likes of many we never see in Australia. They are obviously well cared for as they are all healthy. In behind there are the occasional shrub including some of the largest and bluest hydrangeas we havever seen.

Getting to a fork in the path, we look to the right and see the spectacle that is the Putti Fountain. This is set in a formal sculptured garden filled with beds of the largest tuberous begonias that either Helen or I have ever seen, and immediately surrounded by the giant leaves of Colocasia antiquorum (elephant ears). Helen's dream garden she declares and toys with the thought of texting Greg a photo and asking him to get busy :-)

From here it's a short wander in the sun to the Dahlia Garden or maze - a contorted pathwhere we admire more than 300 varieties (? - well that is what the brochure says!) of dahlias. Now, those who know me really well will know that these were Dad's favourite flower. He grew quite a few of the varieties on show here year after year after year - from house to house that they lived in. It is hard to take a poor photo of them, they are so spectacular, bees included. What is astounding though, is the size of the bloosoms - they are HUGE compared with any I have ever seen in Australia. Boy, I'd love to know what they feed them. It's at this point that we are pushed by, by a group of American tourists one a mission - gotta see it all, never mind about the experience we have the photos!

We hold back, not wanting to be thought to be a part of it. At the end of the maze, there is a rather decrepit looking glass house. However, the Victoria Cruziana inside is anything but. The pad of these water lillies are supposedly large and substantial enough to hold a child - wow! Fully grown, these are more than a metre wide!! Amazing world we live in. There is a smaller pond in front with the more common waterlilly that graces many of the streams and ponds near home in Maryborough.

Then its over to the Mc Eacharn Mausoleum built in 1965 where the last remains of the garden's founder Captain Neil Boyd Mc Eacharn are laid. Its small, tasteful and with stained glass windows reflecting the flowers of the gardens. A nice spot to pause on what is becoming a hotter day.

And from here its all up-hill. We want to see the Terraced Gardens and so up the stairs we go - way up. (Helen now ...) Then we walked around and around and up and down and saw lots of other things like flowers and stuff. LOL The gardens were lovely and at each turn in the path you saw and experienced a new wonder.

(I'm ba-ack!) We have delighted over the Terraced Gardens and altough there are a heap of other people here today, Helen manages to get a photo of it almost devoid of other people - just the beauty overlooking the world! And since we are at the top of the world, we have to get down. Up a further incline for a couple of hundred metres to the Uscita-Ausgang-Exit-Sortie sign. Two choices. 860 m if we choose the steps, 1100 m if we choose the sloping path. Steps are my real downfall, so we opt for the path, only to discover at the end of the first switchback 300 m later that we are now at the bottom of the one flight of steps! Oh well, only 840 m to go. There are a few very picturesque spots with old bridges, sloping pebbled paths and a fantastic view of the twin domes of the town (although the light is too bright at this time today to do them justice) before we reach the bottom of the path and the car. Wow what an amazing couple of hours!

Back to the hotel to rendevous with Michael who has had a lovely couple of hours wandering the town. We feel that we had better try another place for dinner tonight - not that we have nt enjoyed our last two meals, but tonight we are in the mood for something a little more casual. The Artis Restorante and Pizzeria is just down the road from the hotel. I had Scallopine and Michael had a Calzone (Ham, tomato, artichoke and mushroom) but the awards tonight went to the Breaded Perch (From the Lake) and Pommes Frites (fish'n'chips a la Helen) that Helen had. Bloody beautiful, mate! It reminder her of all the fish that her Dad and uncles used to catch on a Sunday morning when they lived at Wynnum, Manly in Brisbane. In fact, it was so good that I ordered a portion after my veal! Real lemon. Potato and carrot salad with home made mayonnaise. Yep. Bloody beautiful.

Dijon - without the Mustard

Dijon –home of mustard – but there is no mustard factory here any longer – like in many parts of the world, including Australia, the artisan has been squeezed out in our world of instant gratification. We don’t know where the factories are now – no-one could tell us.

Despite the noisy and (locally) exciting DJ concert, the room was reasonably quiet and we all slept. It’s funny to be between two snorers – cos I sure don’t snore! Skype is a wonderful thing and Helen is able to talk with the girls and with Greg. His sister Cathie has flown home from Victoria for Father’s Day, so she even gets to talk with her. How lucky are we – we are able to travel the world and yet still see and talk with family ‘face to face’. I’m lucky to be in the room when Antony calls in – can’t talk with Bella because she is long asleep. But it’s nice to talk with Antony and James (and Amanda out of view!).

Knowing that we tend to stay out late, we don’t rush this morning. About 9:30 am we head down to breakfast – Hel’s first truly continental brekky. There is actually a really good selection: cereals, yoghurt, canned fruit salad, croissants, bagette, brioche, toasting bread, eggs to boil, cold meats and cheeses, spreads, jams and Nutella! Orange or apple juice, tea, coffee and hot chocolate. We toast brioche, Michael cooks eggs. So does Helen, but as it doesn’t come to a rolling boil, her egg is still very ‘liquid’ so Michael gets a third! After breakfast Michael and Helen venture out to visit the Tourist Information Centre to find out information on a tour bus and Laundromat.

(Michael) It is indeed a glorious morning for walking through the streets of the old town. There is such a hustle and bustle as the streets swell with people going about their business. And in the market place, the shouts and cacophony of the market sellers filled the air with a boisterous clamour.

Helen was in awe of her surroundings: the people, the ambience and the architecture – a symphony of sight and sound. The old town of Dijon is a mixture of cobblestoned narrow streets and Medieval/Renaissance architecture. The upper floors of the buildings, built around the 14-15th centuries, literally overhang the streets at varying degrees.

Making our way along the Rue de Chouette we are dwarfed by the height of the Church of Notre-Dame – what an amazing sight. The cathedral’s design is a jigsaw of flush and flying buttresses, spires and steeples, Gargoyles and Grotesques! However, the part which stopped us in our tracks was the sight of a group of people clustering around a small sculpture against the corner of the cathedral. It was a six inch sculpture of an owl, the detail of which has been worn away by pilgrims stroking the ‘bird’ whilst making a wish. A ‘Kodak’ moment – yes, sir! We were later to discover, the origins of the owl are unknown as is the identity of the artist. Albeit, it is referred to as “The Owl” and the exact location is on the buttress of the Chapel of Reconciliation.

We eventually find the information bureau and obtain the necessary information concerning the bus and, (….more importantly,) a Laundromat. Oh, we are pleased to be informed the bus is not exactly a ‘tourist’ service, however, it is a free shuttle service which does the circuit of the old town and passengers have the option of hopping on and hopping off!

(I'm back) After a while we head out for the day. Off around to the Notre Dame Cathedral, passed lots of unique little shops. We pass ‘La Chouette’ the Town Owl and rub its belly for good luck, all making wishes that I suspect have something to do with winning Lotto. The owl is the town symbol and so it features very prominently in the tourist scheme – small owl plaques to steer you in the right direction for the town walks and large numbered brass plaques set in the pavement where there are points of interest.

The Cathedral is something else. It has the most amazingly interesting roof line complete with flying buttresses. This corner of Dijon is quaint and the kind of place you might expect to see in France - there is a tin cat silhouette on the roof of a building opposite the Cathedral, and in the side street alongside the Cathedral, a busker – complete with the faithful dog belts out some mournful French tune - very Edith Piaff'y. In his poor English and our poor French we learned that he found the mutt on a visit to Switzerland. He was kind of like a lost soul - we tend to collect a few!

There is a petite town bus that operates a route into and around the Old Town centre – its free and runs to a schedule every 15 minutes or so. It is well patronised by locals and tourists alike. And Helen is right, this is a sign of a generous community. Sure, it is a tool to minimise traffic in the narrow streets of the Old Town centre, but they could easily charge for the service.

We have coffee at a cafe in the Place de Ducs – sitting on a plaza that is a beautiful rich cream coloured stone – including the bricks that form the roadways. And the plaza. And the gateway portal. And the buildings. It’s a monochromatic heaven (ask any of the scrap-bookers!)

After coffee and a sit in the sunshine, we ventured across the place (plaza) to the Palais des Ducs and in to the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Dijon. This building is probably close to the size of Fontainbleau but is far more dignified. I think that that monochromatic look is less pompous and offers a look that is not above the rest of the community. It has a sense of uniformity and togetherness with its surroundings that is really nice. The architecture is interesting as everything is built in to a semi-circular wall across the place including arched accesses to the streets - very very classy.

The museum is free - so yes, Hels is right - a generous community. This place has soul and body and spirit. And it is really interesting the collections that these regional museums have. There are works of art, some stuning sculptures, two rooms that are done in the decoration of the period, and egyptian collection and more. But we are out of time now - its 6 pm and they are closing.

The traders aren't dumb though - they are still open and we manage to divest ourselves of a few of our hard-earned sheckels! I bought Bella some fantastic stuff at a Kids educational toy shop and even Helen bought some secret present stuff!! And then we found the gingerbread shop - oo la la Glen McGrath - and now we have some goodies for the car (not that these three chaps need fattening!).

Tonight we decided to head in the opposite direction to find somewhere for dinner. Just down the corner we turn to the right and find a tiny restaurant that looks appealing (a restaurant as opposed to a glorified bar). Le Théâtre des Sens - cuisine traditionnelle remise au goût du jour (The Theater of the Senses - traditional cuisine delivered to the taste of the day)
It is really busy and we only see one table free - "Bonsoir, une table pour trois s'il vous plaît?" is met with "downstairs". Ah, more tables downstairs! Hah, only four more in a tight little space down (dreaded) part spiral stairs. C'est la vie! Vincent, our waiter speaks some English - always a help and gives us a hand to decipher the menu.

Entrees:
Huit escargots de Bourgogne au beurre persille (Eight snails of Burgundy in parsley butter) Helen
Œufs en meurettes à l’huie de truffes (Poached eggs with Truffle sauce) Maria
Fois gras de maison (Fois gras of the house) Michael
Mains:
Coq au Vin, tradition bourguignonne (Coq au Vin in the Burgundian tradition) Helen
Quenelle de brochet (Pike dumpling) Maria
Lamb shank with a selection of vegetables
(Jarret d'agneau avec une sélection de légumes) Michael
Desserts:
Coupe Bourguignonne (Burgundy ice cream with liquer) Maria and Helen
Nougat de crème glacée (Nougat ice cream) Michael

Mmm - another example of great French cooking.

I go back to the hotel to try to wrestle enough time with a terrible internet connection (you have to keep signing in) and do some work on the blog while Michael and Helen go back to the Plaza for a coffee. The night photos are amazing - and in a place like Dijon, I would expect nothing less!

(Helen's turn) Dijon is tres bon! Ces't magnifique and to date my favourite place on planet earth. It has the right blend of quirky energetic happy people and a sense of respect for all eras past and present that I could easily fall in love with and stay for while. Perhaps I will be lucky enough to bring my favourite people on planet earth with me to share in it's honest generosity and welcoming style of living.