Ickham not Wickham!

all the leaves are brown
and the sky is grey
I've been for a walk
on an autumn day
Yes, California dreaming is playing on the local radio station - very fittingly! There is nothing so miserable as when it is 4:30 pm in the afternoon and totally dark with all the street lights on.

After a lazy morning we set out from Wingham for a bit of a drive around the area. And it really is no coincidence that we are staying here - there is a Wingham in the Taree area on the central north coast of New South Wales - so we came to see if there was any resemblence. And you know, there is - lots of cattle and rolling hills! And they are of a like size.

First stop is the small village of Ickham that is a mere 2.5 kms away by road, but a million miles away in terms of how different it is. Wingham is located right on the very busy Canterbury Road, while Ickham is caught in some time warp on a small back road. Just outside town we pass fields that are being beseiged by geese - lots of geese, hundreds of geese - and as Michael gets out to take photos, their brief reprieve on the ground from the journey south for the winter is interrupted as the take flight again.

From here we turn towards the north coast of this part of the UK towards Sheerness and the Isle of Sheppey. As we travel along we see signs to the Spitfire Museum at Manston and would you believe Michael's luck - our route takes us right past it. Go past? Never! So off he goes and I pick up my book.

"Fighter trail etched white on blue,
Bomber Captain, Seaplane Crew.
Like gods, these men, though wrought as we,
Are brushed with immortality.
Their youth not lost to as years go by,
But grandly, in a moment souring high,
Through conquered sky."
- Harold Balfour

With it's memorial garden overlooking the Manston aerodome and the singular bronze statue of an RAF pilot, the museum is more of a memorial to Airforce personnel of all nationalities. However, on entering the building you get the distinct impression it's dedicated to the Supermarine Spitfire and the Hawker Hurricane and the respective crews.

The museum is quite small but full of memorabilia, including a restored Spitfire XVI and a Hurricane II and displays of ordinance carried by both aircraft. There is an impressive array of uniforms belonging to aircrew and which have been donated to the museum. A selection of aviation art is also displayed which mainly concentrate on the Battle of Britain. Whether a visitor has any interest in aviation is immaterial, this is a memorial and museum which has been tastefully designed.

So from Manston we follow the coast around to Herne Bay. This historic town is on the southern estuary of the Thames River as it empties in to the North Sea. Known for its old pier and it's impressive clock tower there is also a solitary statue of a Coast Guard statue patiently and vigilantly out to sea - making sure that all are safe, and ready to jump into action if anything goes awry out to sea.

We are still not at Sheerness despite it only being 60 kilometres from Herne Bay. You see we are averaging about 30 kph! Where there are not small towns end to end, there is farming land - marshy land that now supports sheep grazing. And there is only one narrow road that goes right through this area. And time after time we find ourselves in a bottleneck of traffic as we come up to temporary traffic lights around roadworks. It is well dark now, and not quite 4:30 in the afternoon! There is no point going any further so we make the decision to turn back for Wingham. All in all, the last couple of hours has been frustrating to say the least. And as if to add insult to injury, we hear regular traffic updates on the local radio that seems to put us in the very middle of the jams! Wait? Is that them in the car behind us??? Could be as we pass just in front of the landmarks they name time and again!!

We eventually get back to the Dog Inn and a well awaited Cider. Austin our chef has promised us Steak and Ale Pies for dinner even though they are not on his menu for the night. That menu has surprised us a little. While it is always great to find great food in the most unexpected of places, we really did not expect to find a chef of his calibre in a small town miles from where the major restaurants lie. He explains that not only is he the chef for the restaurant here, he is also head chef for the group of hotels owned by the owners. And although we are really looking forward to our pies, when the waitress gives us the menus to choose entrees, we groan at the other choices we might have had. (Pardon the shadows on the menus please)

Still, we had asked for the pies and we are looking forward to them. For our entrees tonight we decide on:
Pan fried tiger prawns, chorizo and plum tomato (Michael)
Homemade lemon and coriander fishcakes, garlic tartar (Maria)
Our mains were those amazing pies - heavy with succulent chunks of tender beef in a deliciously rich ale based gravy and topped with the cleanest, crispest shortcrust pastry - mmmm
"Dessert menu?" she asked. "Oh yes please" was Michael's reply (even though we probably didn't need it!)
Plum Clafoutis with raspberry coulis and the ripest red strawberries (Michael)
Warm apple, sultana and calvados pancake with creme anglais (Maria)

Ah the day has been redeemed! Onya Austin!!!

The weather matches our mood

Leaves swirl up and around us as we drive down the road from Ypres and as we pass under the trees, they continue to drop on to the windscreen. A full European autumn is an amazing experience. Again, it is raining, reflecting our emotions. My how our senses are heightened today. We have become used to the idea of going home, but gosh, how I wish we had more time here. Our last little time as we leave Belgium is spent letting Michael have a quick look around the New Poperinge Military Cemetery where there are a few Australian tombs scattered amongst the French ones.

Then, without the need for a real rush, we set Kate to direct us to the Eurotunnel departure point off the motorways and are so rewarded for doing so. There are cows grazing in the meadows and windmills on the hills - quite a few of them! We pass through the autumn rain and look out over valleys shining in rare spots of sunshine. The air is so crisp and clean and the colours are so vibrant.

We come in to France for the last time this trip and it is as beautiful as we remember it from the numerous trips we have made across the country over the last eleven months. The villages seem to be hugging the roads as though to say goodbye - yep, we are again passing those houses built right to the edge of the roads. Autumn here is a very busy place here and we pass lots of mounds of swedes (yellow turnips) and sweet potatoes recently dug and now set for drying. And the farmers are busy ploughing and fertilizing their fields. You know everywhere we have been there are a few constants - the smell of 'fresh' fertilizer, the heavy density of livestock and the farm implements pulled along the back roads by tractors!

All too soon (but not too soon) we arrive at Calais at the Eurotunnel terminal. As we pull up to the ticket tag machine it 'recognises' the registration number of the car and automatically prints our windscreen tag. We just have enough time (6 minutes) before they make the first boarding call to allow Michael to go and change our last Euros for UK pounds. Then, through border control and we join the first couple of cars waiting to be loaded on to the train. And then, just after 13:00 pm we are loaded on to the train and at 13:20 pm we leave the continent of Europe for the last time in 2009 for the fast half hour journey under the weight of the English Channel back to the UK.

And then without any fanfare (just a voiceless reminder on the intercom to remember to turn our clocks back an hour and to drive on the left) we are back in England - back on the 'right' or rather make that the correct side of the road! We are back in the land of small roads again - passing cars so closely on the local main roads that I wonder if we are not going to lose our side mirror.

We have decided to spend a couple of days in the south east of England having a bit of a look around the only part of England that we did not see when we were here earlier in the year. We have booked in to The Dog Inn in Wingham, near Canterbury. The building dates back to the early 13th century and our room on the first floor is supported by the most amazing big beam. The public areas downstairs are warm and the fireplaces are roaring away, keeping the cold outdoors where it belongs. The ceilings are lined with hops, now dried after hanging there for a year. This is no so much a pub, as a restaurant with rooms. We meet Dan behind the bar and Austin in the kitchen. Something that Austin is cooking smells fabulous and wse go to the kitchen door to find out what it is - ah, rabbit for a dish for tomorrow.

So we go up to take our luggage and unpack the barest of things as we have become accustomed to doing before heading back downstairs for dinner. The menu is surprisingly well developed with traditional foods presented in very modern combinations - something we are not expecting. After agonising on the offerings we choose -
Entrees:
Sherry's duck egg crostini with a poached egg, wilted spinach, curry oil (Michael)
Rillette of wild rabbit and smoked bacon, sweet plum tomato chutney, walnut bread toast (Maria)
Mains:
'The Carpet Bag' Roast fillet of beef stuffed with oysters, streaky bacon waist coat, grill garnish, bearnaise sauce and chis (Michael)
Breast of free range chicken, crispy parma ham, white pudding, cream tarragon dressing (Maria)
Desserts:
Sticky toffee pudding and vanilla seed cream (Michael)
Dark chocolate loaf, black cherries in kirsch (Maria)

Wow, what a meal. Congratulations to Austin who has managed to achieve the same level of finesse that we have experienced in meakls in France. We retire satisfyingly full to retire to our warm bed for the night.

Heading west and north to the cold.

The Art Fabrik (factory) & Hotel serves a buffet breakfast that is the most expensive we have encountered for ages. At €12 per person we contemplate whether we should go out for brekky but in the end give in and go down to the cafe area where it is served - down in the funky lift. We need not have worried - the spread is amazing with hot and cold foods - meatballs, a couple of different types of sausages, scrambled, fried and boiled eggs, salad ingredients, cereals, yoghurts and additives such as fruit and nuts, cold meats and cheeses, a variety of rolls and breads and pastries and some of the best fruit juices and coffee that we have had for yonks. We eat our fill knowing that we won't have to worry about lunch today!

Although it has been wet through the night, there is just a spattering of rain as we prepare to leave. We marvel at the growing mounds of leaves that autumn brings and while we will miss it back in the hot Australian summer, I can't help but think how much work it must create for the local councils. At least they would have plenty of mulch materials!

And so we hit the road again. There is a cable car like no other here in Wuppertal - it hangs beneath the track. The hotel reception staff tell us that it is a great way to see the city. When asked the duration of a round trip they reply that it is about an hour. Too long for us today - especially in this weather. We have another longish drive and if it continues to rain, I don't want to hurry. Once we are clear of the city and back on the motorway, my fears are realised when the rain continues on and off.

The weather is cold and quite bleak. The trees look naked without their leaf cover, and yet, grown as they are in long lines or clumps, they appear to be huddled together against the ravages of wind and rain. Today we pass through the Netherlands again - just passing through, clearing the outskirts of Venlo and then Eindhoven and noticing again the gothic architecture that is so abundant throughout this part of Europe.

And still the rain comes, although along with the wet, it is a little warmer thankfully - gee we actually get to 8°C! Yes, I know that its not hot, but believe me the difference between 4°C and 8°C is heaps when it is wet and windy! I was hoping that I could leave all the really warm clothes packed for now, but I should have known better! And as we continue to head north before we head home, odds are that it will get colder yet - bring on the Australian summer - I think. (Probably won't be Saying that once we are back in it in the coming weeks!!)

We only travel across the very south of The Netherlands for a total of about 80 kms before we are in to Belgium. Just before we cross that border, we pull in for fuel. At the bowser alongside us, there is a fellow in a van with Lithuanian registration plates on it. Like many other Eastern European drivers, he is towing an unregistered car. I think that they come to the west, buy the older, cheaper second hand cars and then sell them at a nice little profit back home - lord knows, we have seen enough of them! The state of his bullet-holed van leaves us wondering whether he has pushed his luck just once too often. He had better be careful with this one then!

We push on, needing to travel across most of Belgium. When deciding our route back to London for flights home, I had asked Michael whether he had any preferences. He said that he would like to return to Ypres to hear the The Last Post Ceremony at the Menin Gate in Ieper, so I have arranged our route to give him this little joy on his birthday!

Other than that, he had no preference and I did. I really want to see Bruges. It has a fascinating history and is often known as the Venice of the North given its canal system. There are very heavy planning requirements for all buildings new and old in the historic old city centre that means it retains to today much of the same architecture and certainly a uniformity of look, as it first did in its glory days that date from the 12th century. So we travel towards Bruges, calling in briefly at the small town of Damme on the way through. This pretty town sits on the bank of the River Reie that has now been canalled. It is known for its well preserved windmill and has a very handsome City Hall as well as numerous bookshops and coffee houses.

Now, as we all know, one of the best things produced in Belgium is CHOCOLATE. And when we first arrive in Bruges, before we go around to our hotel for the night, we drive in to the old city and take a walk around. Every second shop is a chocolate shop! And while prices are competitive, the chain shops are the dearest! We stop. We look. We smell. We sample. And of course, we buy! No wonder there are so many cows in Belgium (but what is it with all the beef cattle?) And another thing that Belgium is famous for is lace and lace products. Those who know me know that I love fine lacework. We walk past a few very commercialised shops that seem to specialise in mass-produced items and its only when I find one of the smaller shops that we venture in. I get a beautiful tray cloth that is hand-worked. The owner spends quite a bit of time chatting to us and explaining the differences in the various lace pieces she has for sale. Gosh, I could go bananas in this shop for sure! (Got to remember, this is just stuff!)

Its now after 5 pm, dark and getting colder by the minute, so its time to head over to our accommodation for the night - the Golden Tree Hotel. Plenty of time tomorrow to explore Bruges in more detail. We are the last car in to the car park and there is only one spot left that will park in another car. No fear, it belongs to the family running the hotel and they say to park here. When we walk into the room, it is very warm thankfully and it takes most of the evening for us to realise that there is under-floor heating, so I turn the radiators down.

When asked for a recommendation for dinner, Francine at the Golden Tree Hotel warns us against eating near the Markt Square - over-priced and poor quality food she says. She can recommend a local restaurant called Carte Blanche. Michael takes a walk and gets the last table reservation! It's not a large restaurant, but is quite obviously popular with locals as well as visitors and from the greetings between some of the patrons and the owner, it has many regulars.

Owner Kieran and his staff run a tight little ship here and as we are sitting in front of the open kitchen, we get a first hand look at just how productive a very small space can be. The menu is large enough to offer a good range of foods, but small enough for them to manage well. The theme is 'Authentic Flemish specialities with a contemporary twist'. We agonised over having to make choices yet again and finally decided on:
Entrees:
Bloedworst met compote Granny Smith (Blood sausage with Granny Smith compote) Michael
Kaaskroketten (Cheese Croquettes) Maria
Mains:
Rundvlees stoofpot in bruin bier met chips handgesneden en een salade (Beef stew in brown ale with hand cut chips and a salad) Michael
Varkensvlees Stew in Cherry Bier met chips handgesneden en een salade (Pork Stew in Cherry Beer with hand cut chips and a salad) Maria
Desserts:
Rijstebrij met bruine suiker (Rice pudding with brown sugar) Michael
Crème brûlée - Maria

The food was fabulous and had us making comparisons with the French food we haved eaten. At the end of our meal we chat some with Kieran and he shows us a photo of his 'very cool dude' new son Maddox at 4 months old with dad's sunglasses on! Very cute!

Ding dong, the bells are ringing . . .

It dawned a cool morning - all of 2°C! Oh yes, winter is well and truly on the way in Europe. Felix wants to study today so after a prolonged breakfast, Steph and Michael and I head out to explore the countryside around Schwäbisch Gmünd. We filled the car with petrol after travelling from Slovenia on one tank of fuel - part of Slovenia, across Austria and then about a quarter of the way across Germany. Not bad huh! In Australia, the only way you could even travel part way across three states on a single tank of fuel would be if you were in the corner areas where they all meet!

While the weather is still fresh and crisp, the sun is shining and out of the breeze it is a beautiful autumn day. Although lots of people here in Europe say that they love autumn, I think that us, coming from an area where we have predominantly evergreen trees are truly enjoying the change in the season the most. What they have here that we in Queensland can never have is a totally different look of the landscape for each season. At the moment its warm to look at (probably to compensate for the falling temperatures!) and when there is a mist or fog, which is often, it is very surreal - as though you are looking out through a gauze curtain.

So, we begin our exploring at the remains of the Limes and Roman Fort just on the outskirts of modern Schwäbisch Gmünd. Throughout our journey, we are constantly awe-struck by the monuments we've seen. However, the Limes and Roman Fort need some imagination (with the assistance of some thorough information boards and models) but this does not minimise the expanse of the Limes Germanicus (Germanic Frontier) created by the Roman Empire.
Limes Germanicus represented a remarkable frontier line of walls and forts bounding the Roman provinces of Germania Superior (this comprised the areas of western Switzerland, the French Jura, Alsace and south western Germany) and Raetia (containing the Upper Rhine and Lake Constance). The Limes forts were established between 83AD to 260AD to divide the Roman Empire and unsubdued Germanic tribes. This frontier eventually stretched from the North Sea outlet of the Rhine to Regensberg on the Danube! The total length of the Limes frontier was 568km of walls and ditches; including 60 castles, 900 forts and 30000 troops.

However, we are concerned with the immediate area of Schwabish Gmund. To appreciate the area, and get a 'feel' for the Limes requires a long and enjoyable walk. We first start at the parking area, which provides an information shelter with substantial information boards (in both German AND English), together with a bronze high relief map. This information allows you to obtain an overview and directions to commence ones exploration.

Leaving the shelter, we are presented with a tall monument which indicates the regions the Limes actually reached: VINDOBONA (Vienna); CASTRA REGINA (Regensburg), to name just a few. Nearby we reach replicated sections of Limes walls and ditches. One side of the road (yes, and it's the original Roman road) is a wall section constructed from dressed tree trunks and shattering. The other side provides a wonderful example of Roman technology at its best - the composite masonry wall. After, several absorbing moments we head upwards and towards Kastell Freimuhle (Castle Free Mill). The fort was first discovered in 1901 and subsequent investigations have revealed the castle to have been 55m x 55m, about 0.28 ha. Little remains of the site, except for the wall and tower footings. At the centre of the site is a bronze model depicting what the fort may have looked like.
We then retrace our steps to the replica walls and proceed along the Roman road. The map at the information shelter indicates the road leads to a lower fort. This is an interesting promenade which is punctuated by altars, road statuary and mortuary stele. It appears the lower fort may be further than expected, however, it is indeed a glorious day for a jaunt. We come across the remains of a roman bridge concorse, here a modern wooden bridge has been added to allow visitors to cross into an adjoining forest.

Forest's in this region are just spectacular and more so when we cross the bridge into the forest. Following a well worn path, we climb further into the forest where we finally reach the remains of a small part of the wall. After enjoying the silence which the forest provides, we once again retrace our steps to resume our trek along the Roman road. Finally, we reach our destination and it is realised that there is nothing left of the fort - only a green pasture. The walk is not a disappointment as many interesting sights have been experienced, and nothing less than the forest itself.

From here we drive up into Schwäbian Alb so that we can look back over the valleys of the Rems River and indeed over Schwäbisch Gmünd itself. The light is magical, casting a warm glow over the landscapes below and it makes me want to find a piece of paper and some watercolours. From above, Schwäbisch Gmünd look a real picture with its mix of red terracotta roofs, statuesque civic buildings and churches and wooded hills.

Up into the lowest slopes of the Alb we find small towns and smaller villages in a rural setting. That 'alpy' smell of freshly fertilised land is back and you know even after travelling in and out of the Alps for the last months, we still crinkle our noses when we smell it. I'll never forget it, and I'm sure I never want to get used to it!

Passing through towns with evocative names like Straßorf, Lauchof and Lenglingen with its equine industry, through to Hohenstaufen with its castle sitting high on the hill in the forest over the town (we haven't got time to walk up), we continue on our way and cross the Neckar River to go to Plochingen - home to the Hundertwasser-Haus (reminiscent of Antonio Gaudi's architecture that we saw in Barcelona) named for the local architect who designed it. This ultra modern flowing masterpiece is home to commercial spaces as well as apartments. But Hohenstaufen is more than just one building and they have retained their old market square with some great examples of timber trussed houses. The old market house has been adapted to modern uses - something that is always nice to see. Modern art sits alongisde more traditional items like the 13 bell Glockenspiel that chimes its tunes at 11 am, 3pm and 5 pm daily. We are standing looking at thise small history column when the bells start at 3 o'clock.

All the time, we are en-route to visit Katie and Josef (friends of Steph we met when we were through here in July) at their home in Stetten - a small town set amidst the vineyards. Katie has been baking up a storm and we enjoy slices of Zwetschgedatsche (plum cake) and a Kugelhopf as we played with Joesphine their gorgeous little daughter (and missed our own little precious one Izabella). It was remarkable to see not only how much she had grown in the last few months, but also how much she has developed as a little individual!

And finally we met Olga and Rudi Mucz (Steph's aunt and uncle) for a final dinner with them at the local s’Būrger Stüble Restaurant just next door to their house. The food here is typically Swäbian and always delicious. And I have forgotten to write down the menu, so you will have to make do with a translation of what I remember!
Entrees:
Olga, Rudi, Felix and Michael began with Kürbis-Creme-Suppe mit saurer Sahne(Creme Pumpkin Soup with sour cream)
Mains:
Gänsekeule mit mit blauen saukraut und Kartoffelknödel (Goose leg with with blue saukraut and potato dumplings) Rudi, Olga and Michael
Casserole der Rehe und Wildschweine und Pilze mit Spätzle (Casserole of Deer and Boar and Mushrooms with Swäbian noodles) Felix
Schweinefilet in Cognac-Sahne-Sauce mit Spätzle, Kartoffelsalat und grünem Salat (Pork in Cognac cream sauce with Swäbian noodles, potato salad and green salad) Steph
Maultasche mit Ei mit Kartoffelsalat und grünem Salat (Swäbian ravioli with egg with potato salad and green salad) Maria
Desserts:
Steph and Felix and Michael and I shared two desserts that are the speciality of the chef - a trio of tastes - Mousse au Chocolat, Panna cotta und Nuss-Eis (Chocolate mousse, Panna cotta and nut ice cream). Mm, mmmm!
Of course there was champgane and red wine and liquers consumed in sufficient quantities to ensure that the conversation was lively and varied. At times like these, the rest of us are thankful that Michael is able to be our designated driver!

A great night for us all!!!