Today is Tuesday 21 January, 2025. Kia ora!

Donald Trump was inaugurated as US President for the second time on Monday (in the US).  This occasion was memorable for several reasons: Trump did not take his oath of office on the Bible; the high-wealth “tech bros” were seated in prime position (not evangelicals, or proposed cabinet members), and the fact that Melania was dressed all in black, with a broad brimmed hat which covered her eyes and made it impossible for Donald Trump to kiss her. Was she dressed for a funeral? The death of democracy, perhaps? Dark forces vs. the Deep State?

I declared I was not going to watch this event, and I did not, but it has been pretty hard to avoid commentary on it.  The liberal commentators are deeply depressed, for the most part: they’re complaining about the next four years of Trump’s presidency, but who’s to say it will only be four years? Benjamin Wittes spoke about the first day of the Occupation, whereas Trump in a very low-energy speech spoke about Liberation. I doubt of anyone felt liberated, apart from the January 6 2021 rioters, who were uniformly pardoned or had their sentences commuted. It was assumed by Vice President J. D. Vance and senior republicans that violent offenders (some of whom had pled guilty) would not be pardoned, but they were, as Trump had promised. One man was going off to get some guns. Some were dobbed in by family members, who were scared of them. But there’s no parole, no supervision, and no limitation on their future actions.  So Trump will now have his own militia, political violence is acceptable, and the rule of law, imperfect as it is, counts for nothing.

The next day Trump went to a service at the Washington National Cathedral, where a female bishop (Mariann Budde) asked him to extend mercy to marginalised groups, as mercy had been shown to him (by a “loving God”) in a recent assassination attempt. He was not moved, and there are now calls for the bishop, who spoke well and bravely, to be deported herself. During this service Trump obviously did not know the Lord’s Prayer.  Immigration raids can be carried out anywhere, even in schools and churches. A church is no longer a place of refuge. I recently visited Canterbury Cathedral and Durham Cathedral, which were both places of refuge, as I was reminded while I was there. We were asked to be respectful of these places.

I admired what the Bishop said, although I take issue with one statement: she spoke about transgender children. I don’t think children have gender issues before puberty, although I could be wrong here, and puberty can begin as young as 10 years.

Many cruel things are being done. I have to admit that the Democrats seem bemused and confused at this stage, as I think many people are: weary and sad.

It’s now Tuesday 28 January.

Trump has done a number of things, as he said he would. I wonder why Americans are shocked and surprised! He warned people repeatedly of what he would do.  And he made some outlandish promises about lowering prices, later admitting this is hard to do. What is hard to take, and wasn’t forewarned, are his cabinet picks: Matt Gaetz (he later withdrew), Pete Hegseth, Kash Patel, Tulsi Gabbard, and RFK jnr, amongst others. Marco Rubio is seen as a “normal person” and has been confirmed as Secretary of State. Some, such as Kristi Noem, Pam Bondy, and Pete Hegseth have already been confirmed, as they probably will all be. Resistance from republican senators is futile, it seems. So these are shocking appointments.

On the world stage, I find myself hoping that Trump gets the Nobel Peace Prize, strange as that may seem.  Attacking Greenland/Denmark and Panama doesn’t seem at all peace-like. Peace in Ukraine has yet to be achieved. A ceasefire in Israel has been achieved, a complicated arrangement, which appears to be holding so far, and some hostages have been released, and a number of Palestinian prisoners, but Trump has claimed that Palestinians who lived in Gaza should go to Egypt or Jordan and Israel should raze Gaza!  This is ironic from the president who can’t abode migrants in the US. It’s all right for other countries to take them, then. Back in New Zealand, Shane Jones (a NZ First Party politician), said “Send the Mexicans home”.  Whatever prompted that?

It’s now Wednesday 5 February.

It was a busy morning: I went to hymn singing, which has just restarted for the year, and then to Te Reo Māori. Now that hymn singing starts later, I don’t have time for a wee break in between – to have a coffee at Parsons’ Café.  But it was all lovely.  Unfortunately I forgot to take my phone, but I rang from the Community Centre and JD came and picked me up. It was a beautifully warm sunny day, even in Ganges Road, and I was able to sit outside the library in the sunshine to wait for him.

Other things have restarted, such as Bible Study, yesterday morning. We spoke about the movie Conclave – I think I had a rather stoic impression of it!  I’ve been listening to the audiobook of the novel by Robert Harris which it’s based on, and as there is lots of prayer in the book, I rather felt the religious details had been stripped out in the film. Perhaps I should see it again, although my criticisms remain.

I also had a discussion with the minister about bringing political situations into the weekly service of worhip, with particular reference to the short film about the Holocaust that we watched at a recent service in Karori.  I feel more and more that this was inappropriate:  when Jesus was alive (the word made flesh) on earth, although he foretold his death he did not advocate overturning, or protesting against, Roman authority or how dreadful Herod was or even the Roman system of government.  Similarly the apostle Paul, although he foretold his death, and we’re told about some narrow escapes, did not defy governmental authority. The house of God is a house of prayer (Isaiah 56:7, “My house shall be called a house of prayer”). Similarly, there are protocols when one enters a Māori marae, particularly the Wharenui: one is on sacred ground, as is one within a church. Jesus told his followers to “watch and pray”. When I go to church I wish for a break from the dreadful things that may be happening in the world, and somewhere to experience the peace of God, which passes human understanding (Philippians 4:7).

Still, it is tempting to discuss foreign affairs, as we watch the American system of government being dismantled, very quickly.  I’ve been listening to The Rest is History podcast where Tom Holland has recently completed a new translation of Suetonius’ The Lives of the Caesars.  There was a podcast about Tiberius, but last Monday he covered the life of the emperor Caligula.  I couldn’t help comparing this to the present situation in the US. Was Caligula mad, or just mad with power? He certainly did some very unpleasant things, even if some of the more lurid stories about him are perhaps untrue. The Roman Senate was an august body that men on completing a “cursus honorum” (military success) aspired to be elected to. However Caligula got them to vote supreme power to him! They were so subservient that they did so. Then he had his Praetorian Guard to protect him (although one of them eventually murdered him, thus bringing his reign of terror to an end).  Suetonius wrote about recording deeds of the Princeps, and then the monster (that he became).

I think it’s been about two weeks since Trump’s inauguration. In that time, many people have been fired, or their jobs are at risk; all the dreadful nominees to Trump’s cabinet look like being confirmed; Trump has toyed with applying tariffs to Canada, Mexico and China, but he’s held off on the Canada and Mexico ones (for now).  The FBI is being dismantled, despite the ongoing threats of terrorism. What’s he doing? Is there a plan? Meanwhile, the head of the FAA has been sacked, and there was a dreadful plane crash between an airline and an army helicopter in Washington, followed by an air ambulance small plane crash in Philadelphia, in which all six on the plane and one person on the ground were killed. Elon Musk’s minions have access to the US Treasury, which makes many payments to US citizens.  Meanwhile Trump has attempted to revoke birthright citizenship of the US, which is vested in the US Constitution; 17 Inspectors-General have been fired. There was a freeze on all government spending, causing absolute mayhem, not explained, although this was later rescinded. In addition, USAID has been stopped, although this involved aid and vaccines overseas and contracts signed with the US government, and funds approved by the US Congress.  Also, all mention and programs involving DEI have been stopped and any screen relating to climate change has been scrubbed. I’ve probably omitted some things.  Pete Hegseth has been confirmed as Defense Secretary, and Christi Noem as ICE Secretary. All this has been done against the backdrop of the terrible Democratic administration which endeavoured to prevent wars, famine and disease and fight climate change, which is increasingly making more areas of the world uninhabitable – too hot or too wet. Oh, and he’s threatening to abolish FEMA, and disaster relief agency. 

What is worst?  Trump turning America’s allies into enemies?

That’s it for now. It’s Waitangi Day tomorrow. At least there is a treaty, even if it’s not honoured the way many of us would like it to be.  Slava Ukraini! Ngā mihi nui.

Today is Friday, 10 January 2025. Kia ora! Happy New Year!

We are gradually getting back into the swing of things. On Wednesday I met an old friend for coffee at our local café: judging by the number of people there, and the fact it was cold and wet, many others were relieved to get out of the house and meet at the local – café. We had a lovely catchup: it was good to talk about new granddaughters, studying, travelling and so on.

Yesterday JD and I went to see Conclave at the Lighthouse Cinema in Pauatahanui. While there we encountered an older relation, whom we hadn’t seen for years, and her son who was visiting from Ireland. There was another couple there who were distantly related too. They’re all Catholic, and JD was raised Catholic, so while I had many issues with the film I kept them to myself while we were there!

It’s a good film, I guess, and well acted; the costumes (of the men) are amazing. I probably want to read Robert Harris’ book on which it’s based. But the sound was far too loud; the sung music, while attractive, was not well presented (balance? timing? Integration? Sound?); it could have been wonderful, of course.  The Joseph Fiennes character spoke about the great sin of certainty, without putting it in any kind of context. I remember a conversation I had years ago with a Catholic friend who claimed that we don’t really know what happens after death. While that is true on some levels, I am quite certain about my faith and that the afterlife will be a happy, glorious experience, where there will be no more sorrow or weeping.

Another of the things that really frustrated me was the absence of Truth or Grace (Jesus was “full of grace and truth”, John 1: 14), or the Holy Spirit, although there were prayers apparently.  But it seemed to be a very human interaction, with no spiritually other than that shown by the Cardinal from Kabul (he had other secrets, too, of course!).  Spirituality was absent, it seemed. 

Another thing that so annoyed me was the artificiality of the situation. While the cardinals are following arcane rituals (like the English Queen’s death, or the coronation of King Charles III), this ritual (which purported to be in the Sistine Chapel, but was not – I was there recently!), represented elderly celibate men, no women or children. The cardinals wear ornate and colourful robes – the women are dressed all in black, as they serve the men. While this difference and lack of appreciation of what women do is a cause of severe frustration amongst Catholica women, the church seems loth to do anything about it.  The Conclave does not represent human family life at all. And there seemed to be no place given to leadership qualities, humility, or spirituality at all. Rather it seemed to be about what skeletons you may have in your past, and whether you hold liberal values or hark back to the past (which was better, or worse, depending on your point of view. Tommaso loses his temper when trying to open the plastic bag containing toiletries in the bathroom of his accommodation (private hotel? Former monastery?). Anger is one of the seven deadly sins. One wondered just where these guys had learnt these values, and what unnatural lives they live.  They did not look as though they have inner peace. Yet any television appearance by the Pope is held in such reverence. So, a film that was nice to look at, but frustrating on many levels. As to the late Pope’s funeral, there was nothing! But after his death I was surprised that there was not more reverence shown for his body.  It seemed to be rather roughly handled, to the background noise of what sounded like a heartbeat! But the dead Pope’s heart was no longer beating. Very strange.

This morning I went to a Memorial Service for an elderly woman that had been part of my Thursday morning singing group for several years, until Covid and age put an end to her coming. Only two of us from the Choir were there. She had passed away a few days before Christmas, and a private cremation had been held, so this was like a funeral service but with no coffin or body.  It was held in the Lychgate Chapel in Johnsonville.

Although this was a funeral service, there were no texts or hymns or prayers.  Someone quoted some verses from 1 Corinthians 11: 4-7; and there were songs played; it would have been nice if our Choir could have sung “Mull of Kintyre”), but that was not to be.  I enjoyed speaking to Ngaire at our singing sessions in Khandallah. We shared interests in our education, teaching, and our families, as well as sharing school-girl Latin, which has never left us. Ngaire was always cheerful and upbeat. I was more than 20 years younger than her, but we spoke as though there were no age difference, and we shared the same concerns and values. I thought about Tom Holland’s book Dominion, about Jesus’ crucifixion by the Romans, and how many things subsequently are seen in the context of Judaeo-Christian values.

JD and I need to go shopping again – at New World in Thorndon. There are now bike lanes on the streets where we enter and exit.  However I’ve yet to see a single bike using the bike lane. While I have sympathies for bikers, there is enormous frustration at the loss of carparks, and the general lack of safety for pedestrians. I wouldn’t mind so much if we saw these bike lanes in use, but no, it hasn’t happened yet.

In the US the crazy continues, as one wakes up each day to learn the latest online comment from President-elect Trump and Elon Musk. One tries to stay aloof, but really one cannot. Former President Jimmy Carter is being laid to rest – a huge contrast in decency and Christian goodness. But as Ngaire showed, anyone can be skeptical about Christianity, but be a good, cheerful person. You don’t have to be a Christian, but it helps! She was said to be a “sceptic”, but as one of her granddaughters said, she lived by the values of 1 Corinthians 11, and the Ten Commandments.

It’s now Sunday 12 January.

I’ve read two rave reviews of the film Conclave, in Saturday’s The Post and in the latest Listener.  Neither of them mentions any of my reservations!  But I’ve been listening to the audiobook on my phone, and it does tell a more human Christian story, I think. Perhaps I need to see the film again.

Discussions over the recent presidential election in the US continue. Most former Republicans, including most at the Bulwark, argue about what the Democrats did wrong. Of course, if Harris had won, they’d be crowing about their successful platform. The Dems are just too nice, they claim. Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?  On a Deadline Whitehouse report I watched on YouTube, after Trump’s sentencing on his 34 felony counts, Mark Elias claimed that the majority of Americans had voted against the rule of law.  While there are many flaws in the American legal system, it is a pretty useful rule of thumb that the law matters, that there are laws and procedures, the “mores” of any society, which, funnily enough, are based around the Ten Commandments. And yet Trump’s proposed heads of the law, Kash Patel and Pam Bondi, already are known to have “enemies lists” of people they intend to prosecute – people who have not broken the law.

Having said that, in his podcast yesterday Tim Miller quoted Ephesians 6:4-7 when talking to Amanda Carpenter, saying how Catholics tend not to quote the Bibel, but he did, in relation to Trump’s recent (non) sentencing. This text is about putting on the panoply of God to resist evil.  I’m reminded that this New York court case, there Trump was convicted of 34 felonies, was the trial least likely to succeed, or make any difference, to Trump’s lack of accountability. In Biden’s term as president, this was the only trial of Trump that went ahead. And in my mind it was very significant.  It’s unlikely that there will be future trials, since he’s already 78 years old, and the Supreme Court has granted him immunity for anything he does as president.  This morning I hear that Special Counsel Jack Smith has resigned from the Justice Department.

In the meantime, fires continue to rage in Los Angeles. Although this large city is widely spread out, the devastation of suburban areas as well (Sunset Boulevard) is just mind-blowing. Now a few days on the devastation is more apparent, while new fires have started and a new evacuation order went out yesterday.  It must be heartbreaking to lose your home, no matter how much money you have.  Electric cars won’t solve the problem of wildfires out of control.

It’s now Sunday 19 January. Yesterday and Friday were quite fine and hot here; but today it’s a little cooler. This morning we were supposed to go to a service at St Ninian’s Uniting Parish church in Newcombe Crescent, Karori. Since it was fine I went, although I agonised over what to wear that would be warm enough. In the event there was a very good turnout, of mainly older people, and no children. St Ninian’s was joined by worshippers from St Anselm (Makara Road, Karori), Ngaio Union Church, Khandallah Presbyterian Church and Johnsonville Uniting. 

It was a very strange service. While I appreciate that every (Presbyterian/Uniting) church does things a bit differently, I was quite unprepared for this morning’s service. We watched a video clip about the Holocaust, and then about Jane Haining, who was a Scottish missionary who worked and stayed in Hungary, and was arrested with Hungarian Jews and died at Auschwitz right at the end of the war. After these we were encouraged to get into groups, turning our chairs around, and discuss the choices this person had made, and what we would have done. Then there was a text from the beginning of Exodus, about two Hebrew midwives being ordered by Pharaoh to kill the baby boys. We spoke about that too. I remembered that when Jesus was born, Herod ordered that the baby boys be killed. The there was a text from Mark’s Gospel about not hurting children, and about it being better to enter Heaven maimed than enduring the unending fire of Hell as a complete person. We were encouraged to discuss this, too. Then there was a short Reflection by the minister. 

The minister did not talk about the desperate situation in Gaza, although two people in my group did mention it. He spoke about Trump’s election and inauguration.  I felt a bit let down by all this: I hope to be uplifted when I go to church, and get relief from the dreadful things that have happened, and are happening, and probably going to happen, in the world.  It strikes me too that this was all rather backward looking (apart from Trump’s second term as US President); surely we should be forward looking, while acknowledging the past. I guess we would hope to choose to do good things, and help the least and the lost.

And that wasn’t all. The minister showed another clip – the trailer for the movie “One Life” starring Antony Hopkins. This movie is a true story about Nicholas Hinton’s (the character played by Hopkins as an old man) rescue of several hundred Jewish children from Czechoslovakia in 1938, before the Second World war broke out. I have seen this movie, and I found it very moving.

In America, liberals are nervously awaiting Trump’s inauguration on Monday (that will be Tuesday here).  It’s the Apocalypse, said Ben Wittes, one not usually given to exaggeration.

In Israel a ceasefire has been agreed, and ratified by the Israeli Parliament. Between Hamas and Israel, expected to include the release of the remaining hostages.  Will it hold?  Will the hostages still be alive?  What will happen next?

In Ukraine two North Koreans have been captured wearing Russian uniforms and pretending to be Russian. The brutality continues.

In the US, senate hearings have been underway for the last week for some of Trump’s picks to hold cabinet positions.  In the Pete Hegseth hearing, he was heard to say that he wanted to bring a warrior mentality to the troops. Amongst other things he said, that is so very alarming. NZ troops have been effectively employed as peace-keepers, in the Pacific Ocean.

That’s it for now. Slava Ukraini! Ngā mihi nui.

“They cried Not this man, but Barrabas. Now Barabbas was a robber” John18:40

Reflections – before Christmas 2024

As we head into Christmas, it seems very strange here. Although there are Christmas decorations in all the shops, it doesn’t feel very “Christmassy”, in  contrast to Great Britain when we left at the end of November. Maybe that is because New Zealand is in a recession, it’s got harder to get benefits, and many shops and cafés are closed. There have been several birthdays in December, so they’ve taken precedence over Christmas. Most of our family are away but we will see one son and his family on Christmas Day. Of course, there’s church on Christmas Day and a candlelit carol singing service on Christmas Eve.

As you may have noticed, I am finding it really hard to “settle down” again. I guess coming home sick, and not being able to resume my usual activities has made it harder. For a while after we returned home I would dream that we were staying in an Italian marble palazzo, and we had to catch another train – somewhere!  I then would dream that I had lost something along the way, but we didn’t lose anything, miraculously, and I packed well. Our luggage followed us home, minus the wheeled backpack we had bought for our son’s birthday: after proving its usefulness in Durham and Europe, we packed most things in our remaining bags and left it in Canterbury for him. I had hoped to get another bag at Heathrow Airport, but silly me, that proved to be quite impossible. Quite unlike Wellington Domestic Terminal.

The Covid pandemic meant that we couldn’t travel for about five years. During that time, of course, we got a lot older, and more tired, and of course everything from air fares to insurance costs more. It costs more to be insured after you turn 70.  After a while, after relief at being protected from the ravages of covid here, I was desperate to travel again.  I greatly regret not having travelled more.

When we go to Taiwan, we can fly directly from Auckland to Taipei. Although the food is so different, everyone is helpful and respectful, and there are few tourists. Not knowing much Taiwanese language is not a problem. The bathrooms are always clean, and good to use; petty crime and theft does not happen, and the coffee comes in many varieties (Hot? Cold? Iced? With a variety of milks and coffee beans) and is always good to drink. The drinks are not too sweet.

But Europe! Europe is something else, and England was very welcoming on our recent trip, for the most part.  Although we had adventures with train trips, and the crowds were unexpectedly large in many places, we had a wonderful trip. For the most part, we ate really well. We had some wonderful experiences. It was good to know where I wanted to go – not always the usual tourist destinations.  And you feel that New Zealand is just so very far away! It was nice to be away from the local preoccupations. Of course, they have their own worries abroad, but we were escaping from them.

Now we’re recalling some of the great things we saw, and making some decisions for future trips.

It was wonderful not to be too hot or cold; we can still do lots of walking; travelling light is very good; locking our luggage is a very good idea.  We can still travel like we used to, albeit with fewer visits to special sights. On our next trip I would book earlier; book trains earlier; avoid crowded spots where possible, or have work-arounds for them. The luggage we took was just fine. Thankfully, it did not rain, although it was overcast much of the time, and the days were short. The weather remained mild and not too hot or cold.

Our destinations were wonderful, too: seeing our newest granddaughter, and spending time in Canterbury; going to Durham; seeing the National Gallery, the Victoria and Albert Museum, and the British Museum again; the Eurostar was chaotic (thanks, Brexit) but remains an excellent way to get to Paris (or other European destinations) while avoiding the chaos (and distance) of airports.

Paris is still beautiful. Venice is still a wonderful place. Ravenna was an interesting contrast, with wonderful mosaics.  We didn’t go to Florence, but we must next time; and spend more time in wonderful Roma. I regret especially not going to Scotland, or Spain, or Sicily:  maybe next time.  I guess I would plan differently for another trip. What a privilege it is to travel: despite the amount of time spent in airports, and the distance walked to get to the correct gate, in the correct zone, in the correct terminal! 

Below are some thoughts for future travel:

1. Avoid the crowds where possible
2. Avoid regional train lines: if there are stops, make sure the connections are manageable, i.e. there’s plenty of time to get to another platform
3. Go in the cooler season close to winter (except for Scotland!)
4. Book better accommodation
5. Breakfasts can be wonderful or not so great. Check them out.
6. 4* hotels can cost way more without giving better service
7. One does get tired of beautiful paintings and statues. Recommend variation in what one sees
8. Walking is great, especially on safe surfaces!
9. Airport walking and queueing is always wearisome
10. Get fast trains! 
11. Don’t spend more time travelling than is necessary. You can waste a lot of time getting to an airport, or railway station in plenty of time, to have them announce the appropriate gate or platform a few minutes before the plane or train leaves, never mind how long it takes to walk there. Locals probably know their way around a bit better.
12. Book in advance as much as possible, and print tickets single-sided so that the QR codes can be read by entry machines.
13. Most things are closed on Mondays: it pays to plan around this.
14. Many things don’t open till 10 am, sometimes 9:30 am. One needs to take this into account since one is waking really early.

And now a few final words. It is now the New Year, 2025, and the weather in Wellington has been cold, wet and windy, for the most part.  One fine day we went for a walk along Oriental Parade, and saw many sunburnt people. I fear that was it for summer! Today I’m wearing a jersey which has been in England and Europe.  It does feel very strange, but not too hot to be wearing a jersey in January.

The US presidential election happened while we were away.  It seems that a majority of American voters chose Barrabas. Who is Barrabas, you may ask? When Jesus was about to be crucified, Pilate, the then governor, asked the people whom he should release. He wanted to release Jesus, finding no wrong in him. The crowd called for Barrabas, another prisoner who was also a robber.  In my view, the Democrats did nothing wrong. They ran a good campaign. All the heartrending and agonising over what they did wrong should stop. Joe Biden was a great president, who achieved amazing things. But here we are, with Trump again, dominating not only US  politics but most of the world more than ever before. He hasn’t even been inaugurated President yet!

 Some Americans have only known a time when Trump dominated the political scene.  So what is going to happen? Who knows. How do you report what he says? Where does one start?

When we were in Venice, we visited (again) the Doge’s Palace Museum. Amongst it’s wonders is a famous painting entitled The Adoration of the Magi. Who are the Magi? I heard one woman ask. In case you don’t know, the Magi were three kings/wise men from the East who visited the baby Jesus soon after his birth and did Him homage, bearing gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, thus prefiguring his death.  This Bible scene was often a trop in classical paintings, who painted mostly Biblical scenes and mythological scenes. The different ways these can be represented in art can be very interesting, especially in the frequent paintings of the Madonna and Child.

This morning, as our minister is away, we were supposed to go to the Ngaio Union Church.  But I did not go, partly because it’s such bad weather, and partly because the trains aren’t running, they’re bus replaced. So I was nervous about making my own way home. If the trains are running, they have better shelters to take cover if you have to wait a while.

I zoomed onto a service at St John’s Presbyterian Church in Willis St. There was a wonderful sermon, where the preacher spoke about Grace and Truth.  This seemed so relevant at present where it is so hard to get the truth about events overseas.  One of the three texts was John 1, but this sermon quoted lots of scripture, about God being the source of truth: Jesus said “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life” (John 14:6).  “Everyone that is of the truth hears my voice”, said Jesus), only for Pilate to reply “What is truth?” (John 18:37-38). According to the Revelation, severe judgement is reserved for everyone that loves and makes a lie (Revelation 22:11), who are excluded from the City of God.  Grace on the other hand, gave us a Saviour, the Messiah, who while we were yet sinners died for us (Romans 5:8-9).

It has been very quiet here in Wellington over the last few days. One day JD and I walked up the road to have a pizza for lunch at our local café, only to find it shut, although the internet had said it was open, And it wasn’t a public holiday!

We bought a new vacuum cleaner at one of the Boxing Day sales. I think we got a pretty good deal: I was going to get a “stick” vacuum, but most of them are made by Dyson, which he wanted to avoid; and then how are they powered and emptied? And do they work on any type of flooring? Our new vacuum cleaner seems to work well, but does not have a manual. It only has pictorial instructions!  It’s a bit like our stove, a mystery. I think I’ve identified the main uses, and put the rest of the features away. Because it was a busy sale, the salesperson did not demonstrate the various features. It does come with a rubbish bag loaded, and a spare one.

My weekly cleaning has been restored, and so a lady from Access comes each Friday, which is nice.   It’s good to have a better vacuum cleaner for her to use. 

And so we continue, hoping and praying for better things and times. I have been watching and listening to a lot of World War 2 dramas and accounts, and I have a horrible feeling of foreboding about the increasing presence of right-wing governments, democratically elected, in countries which purport to hold “free and fair” elections.  I guess we are blessed in this country, and we have a great deal to be thankful for, as we long for better weather, better movies, and more kindness all round! Still, we can be kind to each other, can’t we.

In Ukraine and is Israel wars continue, despite the election of Donald Trump, and the fall of the Syrian dictator.  Slava Ukraini! Ngā mihi nui.

An image from Michelangelo’s painting of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel

Roma

On leaving Termini railway station in Roma we went to a nearby pharmacy where JD bought more tissues and paracetamol, and something he thought was strepsils but was a vitamin C pill you had to dissolve in water.  Then we set out to walk to our hotel which wasn’t far from the Termini, but the footpaths were very uneven and pot-holed.

We walked past a lot of restaurants, with outside seating and braziers, till we found Hotel Sonya. Evidently this building used to be apartments.  Well, they charged us €5 per person per day “city tax”, and breakfast is not free. It costs €15 per person per day. I’m sure I booked free breakfast.

Then there’s the lift, an alarmingly antiquated affair, in a cage.  It’s very slow, and you have to be prepared to wait ages for it. We’re on the 4th floor, so using the stairs is a very unattractive proposition.

There’s a small dark room, with a shuttered window that actually opens, and a bathroom with noisy fan with bidet, toilet and shower. Actually the shower is very good, and doesn’t leak, and the towels are large, thick and plentiful.

There’s a heat pump, which we turn down to 22°C, and thankfully the annoyingly loud fan goes off. There is a hot water jug, and two cups, and a fridge, two bottles of water, but no tea bags!

We go out again and there’s a small supermarket across the road, where we buy teabags, juice and more tissues. They stock alcohol but only have corked wine.

Eventually we go to Ristorante Maestro for dinner. I wanted to go to Tosca, but there looked to be no free tables inside. At Maestro I had Spaghetti Carbonara and JD had lasagne: two “safe” choices. JD asked for whisky and ginger ale: they brought separate glasses for each. I was quite enjoying the ginger ale on ice in a crystal glass, but then JD had some and so I had no more. I’m desperate not to get his cold, although the next day my chest is quite tight. The spaghetti carbonara wasn’t great: I don’t really like the bacon! And the cutlery was difficult to use, although the waitress gave me a spoon.

I sleep till 4 am, which is quite good going for me. JD is not comfortable but it’s quite noisy here so I don’t feel embarrassed about his coughing.

In the morning I have a shower and wash my hair with the new shampoo and conditioner I got in Ravenna. It’s great and I have a good shower. But these vegetable-based soaps (they had them in Ravenna, too) don’t really work for me: they don’t lather up well. It used to be quite a treat getting the wee gift soaps (to keep) from everywhere we stayed.

Then we set out to have breakfast. Most of the local restaurants don’t offer breakfast, or there is the odd one that does offers American-style breakfast. JD wants fruit, which is really hard to come by. We walk 11 minutes to a cafe, and on the way see Roman brick ruins that we’ve seen before. Much of this area is a building site, though. Rome is being rebuilt for a festival in 2025.

The cafe is very good, and despite the queue they are very kind to us. They do set offerings on trays, but don’t seem to have heard of non-dairy milk. I order an espresso instead of a latte, and toast, butter and jam; JD orders a latte, fruit and yogurt and a croissant. They have no more plain croissants so we order a chocolate one, and two glasses of orange juice. They do this so well! It’s all delicious, and the croissant is very chocolaty. t’s a sunny day, and quite warm. We go to another pharmacy and get more cough lozenges, some strepsils and a nasal spray for JD.

Today we have nothing booked but we wanted to see the Borghese Gallery and the Capitoline Museums. I should have checked: the Borghese Gallery is closed on Mondays. But the other one is open. We get a taxi from the Termini, and after establishing that it’s the Capitolini Museo that we want, it’s only €9 to get there. These museums are next to some extraordinary ruins: is this the site of the Roman Forum?

There are two wonderful Caravaggio paintings, the Fortune Teller, which I saw in the Louvre – did he paint it more than once? And a very beautiful young man said to be John the Baptist.

Wow, so many beautiful things. We have lunch in a Terrace Cafe, where we buy a ham and cheese sandwich, fruit, orange juice (they do it so well here), a glass of Prosecco and, of course, coffee. There’s a complicated arrangement whereby you pay for your food at another counter, then collect it. It seems very strange, since one wants to point to what one wants!

There’s a terrace restaurant next door, where you can wait and pay lots extra for table service.  There’s a terrace where we can go outside and look at the amazing view. Only in Rome would you get such a beautiful view of churches, bricks, ruins, some trees, statues of golden horses. This is such an interesting museum.

We get a taxi back to the hotel and nurse our colds till its dinner time.  Somehow the taxi back cost more than twice the amount for the taxi there.

We had dinner at a lovely restaurant opposite the Teat’opera. There was someone playing saxophone. We could sit inside. I had a delicious sea bass fillet in a potato crust with baby tomatoes and black olives. It was so good! I think JD had tagliatelle al ragu. Afterwards he had affogato with rum and chocolate ice cream, and I had semifreddo al limone – a lemon sorbet surrounding a sponge cake. Different, but interesting.

The next day was our visit to the Vatican Museums and Sistine Chapel. I’d pre-booked and kept checking my phone. We got a taxi there from the Termini Station so as to be on time.  When we got there, I have never seen such crowds. The internet or any mobile phone reception was extremely poor, and we could see one ticket which had been downloaded as a pdf, but not two. Even though I’d obviously booked two, and had the receipt, I only had one ticket, on my phone, and as it was on Headout, I couldn’t forward the email to JD. After all the mucking around, when we’d spoken to at least 3 people, with no joy, and we’d missed our time slot, we walked down to another ticket office where JD paid more € for us to join a 10:30 tour. We were able to sit down for the 10 minute wait.

There were thousands of people there, including many tours. Our tour guide sported a stick with what looked like a pair of underpants on the end of it. We collected radios and speakers: this enabled us to hear her, which was actually intelligent and useful. But the tour was a bother, especially as we’d been there before and didn’t really want to look at the animals room, or many other things. We just wanted to do our own thing and see specific exhibits. The tour ended up at the Sistine Chapel, where we could split off. The tour guide was going on to St Peter’s Basilica, where I think JD would like to have gone. But I was desperate – I hadn’t had breakfast, and I was very thirsty indeed, as you are when you have a cold. I had hoped we could buy a bottle of water along the way, but there was no such luck. We did manage to see the famous Laocoon statue along the way. I’d forgotten about Laocoon’s warning in Aeneid 2, about fearing the Greeks bearing gifts: “Dona ferenti”.  It was much better placed than when we were rushed past it in 2010, although there were still lots of people wanting to see it.

It seemed to take forever to get to the Sistine Chapel. When we got there, you could go to a cafe – where there was no seating, not even bar stools!  I sat on the floor on my jacket for a time, hoping the floor wasn’t too dirty. It was such a relief to have something to drink at last. Then afterwards we used the rest rooms, which were quite salubrious, and you didn’t have to queue.  

Then we went into the Sistine Chapel, which was the main thing we’d come to see. People are pushed in, and we went to sit down on the marble steps, but a guard encouraged us to sit on a bench along one wall. With relief we sat there for several minutes. There seemed to be less people, and we weren’t moved. How wonderful!

We found our way out, past the many gift shops, down the beautiful circular staircase, again. Then we got a taxi back to our hotel. Strangely, the journeys back always cost far more than the trips there.

We had intended to visit one of the famous churches later that afternoon, but sadly had no energy to do that.

In the evening, we went to Maestro again, where I had much better experience than our first night here. I had a “virgin mojito”, and spaghetti cacia et pepe: with cheese and black pepper. We also had delicious warmed bread with olive oil and vinegar, and the waitress brought us some delicious chocolate pieces. JD had fried chicken with chicory, which he would not touch.

The next morning we got up and left early to catch our train to the airport.  We had breakfast at the Termini; they still have the wonderful bookshop that I remembered! They did not announce the platform for ages.  There was an electronic barrier for tickets on your phone: that wasn’t working, and we queued up with other passengers to be waved through. Then we waited on our platform. When the train came, people were just so rude! Someone barged in front of me, and knocked my glasses off. Still we managed to get two seats facing forwards, near our luggage, and I was able to charge my phone in the train.

When we reached the airport, there was the same sort of scrummage, with people rushing to get on before we had even got off.

Once into the airport, it was easy to get to Terminal 1, with good signposting and several travelators.

Then we were checked in, given boarding passes, and handed over our luggage.  We made our way through security, which took a while, and then through the first duty free area. Then we headed for area E, and more duty free! We stopped at a very nice cafe for lunch: orange juice and coffee, fruit for JD, and a club sandwich to share. Just as well, because it was plenty for both of us: two big sandwiches, salad and potato crisps. It’s not overly busy here, so it’s nice to sit down and rest. It’s good to be early – navigating everything is quite a challenge.

Finally we leave the cafe, go to the bathrooms, and proceed to Gate 18.  Soon we are called to board, but as we’re flying cattle class our zone 4 is called last. We’re seated in row 18, but someone next to us has the window seat. We’re packed in like sardines.  The flight is fine, although we have to wait a while to take off. En route we served a drink – it seems to be coca cola, orange juice or coffee. The flight is just under 2 1/2 hours. Then we land at London City Airport, on the Isle of Dogs,  alight down some steps, and a bus takes us to border control. JD gets through, but for some reason I do not, and I join the queue of people who’ve been rejected by the ePassport machine. How long am I staying, the surly guard asks. About 2 days, I reply!

Then our stowed luggage arrives on the carousel – what a beautiful sight, and we go to meet our son. It’s very cold in London, and quite a walk to his car. The parking costs him £24.90!!!

He drives us to Canterbury, and we have dinner at a wonderful restaurant, sharing roast lamb shoulder between the three of us with dauphine potatoes, carrots and kale. There is a delicious jus to pour over the food. Yum! This takes me back to my childhood. For pudding our son and I have Christmas pudding, very fruity, with almond-flavoured brandy butter and pouring cream. Oh, how delightful it is. I have a lovely mocktail too. It is nice to eat familiar, predictable food again! I must say.

Then JD and I walked the short distance to our hotel. We are in a different room this time, but it is the same design.  In spite of our weariness, we don’t sleep that well. We’re happy to put on some clothes and go down to Breakfast at 7:30. And it’s nice, predictably nice. I’m even happy to see baked beans again, and the toast is good.

JD and I go out walking to a Boots pharmacy, but it’s full of their Christmas specials! We find a pharmacist, who doesn’t have Prospan lozenges but sells us something similar. We also buy another big box of tissues and some plasters.

Alfred meets us and we buy some lunch from the Moore Wilson’s -like market near the railway station.  We spend the afternoon at his house, doing loads of washing and having pizzas for tea.

Sadly JD and I had a terrible night, coughing lots and hardly sleeping at all. I hope we didn’t disturb the other guests too much. The hotel is very busy, since there’s a graduation in Canterbury.  We have little breakfast, and then try to pack everything into three suitcases plus one backpack, so we can leave the purple wheeled backpack for Alfred. It’s very cold here – about 1°C.  But it’s very hot in our room. The hotel kindly offer to look after our luggage after we check out, and we meet our family for lunch at a vegetarian cafe called Veg Box. I have a jacket potato topped with baked beans and cheese.  Then we go back to our sons’ house for a bit before meeting our taxi at the hotel at 4 pm. The taxi is going to take us right to Heathrow Airport. It’s very expensive, but then trains are expensive too, and there’s the luggage to manage – four pieces plus hand luggage. Eventually we get to our hotel.

Getting in is a bit of a mission – there are no trolleys, but we get to  Reception and they have a booking for us. It’s a room with king size bed and disability access; it also has a couch and things in very strange places, with very complex shower arrangements. I just wanted a wet shower! There are scary alarm bells everywhere, I hope I don’t set one off by mistake. I think this was the cheapest option available when I booked!

What a strange set up. There’s no luggage rack. There are no water bottles! 

Towels are in strange places, and there’s only one hand towel. There are no spare pillows or blankets. The hallway is very dark. Honestly, the more $$ you pay the less you get, sometimes!

The worst feature is that when we get into bed there’s a draught on us.  How very annoying. I wrap a jersey around my neck, but of course JD makes a fuss and goes to get someone to switch it to heating rather than cooling. There is a very British argument with the guard about what he sees on his screen and our reality. Then it’s too hot for me, but never mind.

We ate at the very expensive hotel restaurant that evening. Really, there was nowhere else one could go. He had orange juice and fruit; I had sparkling water and a smoked salmon entree. The waiter was either deaf or had little English and a poor memory! He did not do a good job.

In the morning we had decided to breakfast at the Singapore Airlines lounge. I had figured we needed to leave the hotel by 9 am for our 10:55 an flight, for which I had already checked us both in; now I wondered if that would be early enough. Anyway, we found the Singapore Airlines Business Class check in, and did not have to queue.

Getting through security was another matter. It took ages. And then JD had a problem: he lost his belt! We suspect someone took it in the lengthy melée. I never known such disorganized security. Another belt was there, but it wasn’t his. So we walked through the very busy airport looking for a store that sold belts. The first one he tried didn’t, but he was referred to a Hugo Boss store some way away. All this took time, of course, and our Gate B42 was about a 20 minute walk away. We went along, up, down, until I was so confused by all our perambulations. I had wanted to buy another small suitcase or backpack, but I soon saw that this was impossible. So I was reduced to carrying my handbag, my carry-bag stuffed full with extra things, and my puffer raincoat, since I could no longer pack it in a suitcase.

Finally we reached the lounge, up an escalator, with two boarding pass checks, to be advised that our aircraft’s boarding call would be made in 10 minutes! That made for a very fast breakfast in the busy lounge. JD got fruit, while I got juice; then he got coffee and a croissant for me. I only had time to drink half the coffee before our boarding call came. So we made our way to Gate B42, and boarded our A380 aeroplane for our long flight back to Singapore.

It’s a big aeroplane, an A380, and we’re in the middle of Business Class – we can’t see out at all, and I’ve not idea whether we’re at the front or the back of the plane.

The flight from London to Singapore is a bit shorter than the one over, but it’s still a very long time. But it’s nice to be on the bigger plane, with more room for everything.  It’s far more relaxed to have both my bags handy and a nice space beside my seat for my Kindle, phone and glasses etc.  The seats recline so the staff don’t have to make up one’s bed.

We get to Singapore, where thankfully there is a wheelchair. As we’re not going to a hotel, we spend the next few hours in a lounge. Thankfully it’s not very busy, so there’s plenty of room, and we’re both able to have a shower. When it’s time to go and board our Air NZ 777 flight to Auckland, again we go through security at the Gate. 

The flight home is smooth, but challenging.  By now my cold is quite bad, I have cramp, and a headache, and I’m not really comfortable lying down. There are plenty of coughs on the aeroplane, so I don’t feel too bad about coughing, but I wish I could breathe more easily.

When we get to Auckland, there’s no air bridge available!  There’s some drama at Auckland Airport. After a long wait, we’re advised to alight, and a bus will take us to the terminal.  We get through customs and border control (we’re forgotten to complete the electronic entry form, so have to do it by hand), we get a trolley and walk to the domestic airport. There’ve been big changes, of course, and I think the walk takes longer, although it’s mainly under cover.

By the time we get to this lounge, I’m all in. I don’t actually have another shower, but I do brush my teeth and change my top.

Then we fly back to Wellington, where a wonderful son meets us at the airport.

Coming home was rather grim, especially with us both being so unwell. I went to the doctor the next day, but it took two antibiotics and a course of prednisone before I started to feel better and stop coughing.  So I haven’t been able to see anyone. Now we’ve been back almost a month, and we’re still talking lots about our wonderful trip overseas.

That’s it for now! Ngā mihi nui.

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Interior of a monument in Ravenna

Why did I want to visit Ravenna? I’ve been asked that many times. It was one of the four capitals of the Roman Empire, at a time when it had four capitals; I have an enchanting book about Ravenna by Judith Herrin, which I  saw in several gift shops; I’ve listened to podcasts about Ravenna, and watched an art program about the mosaics here. Most buildings are built of brick, with quite unprepossessing exteriors, and yet there are these wonderful mosaics inside. One doesn’t know the artists’ names, and yet they display the most wonderful skill. They also give rise to many questions: how and why do portrayals differ of Jesus Christ and his mother? When did the Cross become elongated rather than being four sides of equal length? The Byzantine influence is very striking here. JD argues that the great cathedrals of England and France have stained glass windows, and especially a wonderful rose window: the basilicas here have mosaics and wonderful floor patterns: floors, walls and very high roofs.

Getting to Ravenna was a strange experience.  It’s not on the main rail line, although cruise ships stop at its port. We caught a Frecciarossa train from Venice to Ferrara, but then had to switch to a regional train, which was some way away.  The first train was quite luxurious, and there should have been 10 minutes in between trains, but our first train was a few minutes late, making it a scramble to catch the regional train. This train was quite full, and JD and I had to sit apart. I had hoped to see something of Ferrara, but that wasn’t possible.

We rode in the dark to Ravenna, stopping frequently. I hoped that our 3* hotel in Ravenna would be all right, and that Ravenna’s mosaics would live up to their promise. After all, I had insisted on coming here.

Ravenna was a bit of a shock at first! We had been used to walking in Venice without cars or bikes! Now we were navigating narrow streets with cars racing by, and without proper footpaths. But almost everything is built of brick, and there are no tall buildings. Houses often front onto the narrow street, but there’ll be a beautiful courtyard inside, although often the grass needs mowing. From what we’ve seen, the people here aren’t really into gardening at all.

Never mind, we reached our roomy hotel. We have a large bedroom, with large bathroom including shower and bidet, and an entrance hall separating the two. The bedroom has a couch. It’s all a bit dated, and there’s some odour of a cleaning material, but it seems fine. The main problem last night was it was far too warm! I think eventually JD managed to turn the heating down to 23 C.

We had a short rest then went out to a local deli and restaurant for dinner. The menu is in Italian, and far braver than Venetian ones which catered to tourists and were much the same everywhere there. I must confess it had a lot of local specialties, and I did not know enough Italian to understand them all.

JD had a glass of prosecco; he had cavatelli, which look a bit like tortellini and I had tagliatelle with meat sauce. There was beautiful bread to go with it.  The flavours were quite intense, not bland at all. JD’s pasta had cheese as well as meat in the filling.

The breakfast at this hotel is a bit of a challenge. They’re on a bit of a health and conservation drive, which is praiseworthy.  There were juices, cut fresh pineapple, and lots of cereals; cold meats and brie; and you can make toast although it’s not good if cooked too long. There is butter and several kinds of jam, although unlabelled. And there are croissants and cakes, and excellent coffee. We had two cups each. There are no tea-making facilities in our room, although there is a fridge!  It was a challenge to me that most of the breakfast foods were unlabelled. What looked like orange juice was in fact a health drink. I don’t think that we are part of the biking/hiking fraternity they’re looking for!

This morning we walked to see the San Vitali Basilica and the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia. We also went shopping and bought a mosaic set for our daughter, a wee cup and some letters to form her name. The mosaics in San Vitale are amazing! And everything is so cheap here compared with Venice. And although there are visitors, there are far fewer people than in Venice. We got a ticket which entitled both of us to visit the sites of 5 famous works over 2 days for about €15.

We saw the museum, which was very interesting, and had lunch at a bar: coffee, fresh orange juice, a glass of prosecco, and ham and cheese toasties.

The next day we set out to see the other attractions that we had missed, after walking some way to find a laundrette. We saw a baptistery,  a palace with a chapel of St Andrew, and the  interior of the basilica of St Apollinare in Classe. What an amazing place! We also saw Dante’s tomb but did not go into his museum.

We had lunch at a café close to the Duomo, where they made us omelettes!  Delicious. Every restaurant we went to had large family groups enjoying themselves.

That night we went for dinner at nearby ristorante il gardina Ravenna. I had crumbed veal steak with patatini which turned out to be potato chips; JD had steak with not green peppers (a mistranslation!) but green peppercorn sauce! Truly delicious. We should have ordered salad. But for dolci I chose profiteroles, and when they didn’t have them I chose cheesecake with berries instead.

That night the All Blacks were to play Les Bleus in Paris, but we did not go to a pub to watch it – that was quite a long way away. The score was 30-29, to the French! That was our last night at the hotel. They had an 11am checkout, but would hold our baggage for us.

We spoke to the gentleman on the desk, who was very kind. He spoke about the rugby match, and about a cemetery in Ravenna where some New Zealanders who died in World War II are buried. I did not know that. He also talked about a Māori haka being done in the NZ Parliament, but the youngest member of Parliament, a young Māori woman. The news does penetrate, even here! And he congratulated me on coming to see the mosaics, and gave me two copies of a book about them, one for me and one for my friend who had also been here.

The Sunday we were to leave it was very cold, after fine, warm weather the previous days.  We were going to go to church, but JD had coughed during the night so we didn’t want to do that.  We walked with our luggage to the railway station, which was being done up: in the meantime, it was cold and draughty and had very limited seating. There was a McDonalds Café there, but we didn’t want to go there. It was full, anyway. There were very few restaurants open.

So we walked to a park, with yet more brick walls around it. There was a café in the park. They were very busy, but the kind person in charge let us go in, explaining that they did not serve lunch till 1 pm. No matter, we were just glad to sit down in the warm.

There was a large family group there who seemed to be having a buffet brunch; I was brought an espresso coffee, and JD a glass of prosecco. Then we were invited to order something to eat. Once again, the menu was confusing but I had spaghetti with cavalo nero and some kind pf creamy pumpkin sauce. Then we walked back to the railway station to wait for our train to Bologna.

You couldn’t use the bathroom at McDonalds without buying something to eat: I went to use the station’s bathroom, which had been done up and was quite luxurious. I paid one euro for the privilege.

The platform was cold and windy. Eventually the train came, and it was one of those complicated ones, where you entered the carriage and had to go up or down. It was very full, and running a bit late. We headed for Bologna, but the train stopped for five minutes due to a signal fault.

There should have been 20 minutes between trains at Bologna, but the railway station there turned out to be a nightmare. There were crowds of people, and our platform, 19, was a long way away from our regional train. We went down and down and down only to see our train pulling away just as we reached it.

We got a lift up three stories, and there were two customer desks: one for Italotreno, whom I had booked with, and the other with Trenitalia. We did not have to wait long, and guess what, more money solved the problem, getting us in Business Class in the quiet Zone in a train that went to Rome in just over half an hour.

JD found me a seat and then went off to buy something three stories up – more tissues, I think! That was scary. He eventually returned, and we found our way down three stories and then wondered whether we were after platform 18 or 19:  in our relief we forgot what we’d been told.

The train did come, and we got on. We had seats, but the people next to us did not bother to move their stuff or try to make us comfortable. And although this was a Quiet Zone, people kept talking on their mobile phones! Eventually we reached Rome, and the train took a very long time to stop.  But we were in Rome! Navigating the Termini Station was another challenge, although we’d been here before. It too is “in restoro”, of course, and is confusing.

JD decided we could walk to our hotel, which was, as they all are, only “about 11 minutes” walk away from the Termini. That’s true, but walking was a challenge since there were so many potholes in the footpaths.  We passed lots of restaurants, a good sign, and there was one very challenging pedestrian crossing.

We reached our hotel, another 3*!  They charged us €5 each per night, and no, breakfast was not included. I had thought it was. The lift was something else! It was an old style cage lift, although I did come to like it.  The hotel had previously been an apartment building, it seemed, so there was some separation between rooms. I did not feel bad about coughing here.

We had a good-sized room, on the fourth floor, with a window that opened, and an adequately sized bathroom with bidet and shower.  It had a wardrobe, desk and fridge, with a hot water jug but no teabags! Shower and towels were quite adequate, and there was a wardrobe.

We made sure the lift delays were not an issue for us, by allowing plenty of time to wait for it. We marvelled again at people with enormous luggage and wondered why they would stay here if they could afford such expensive-looking luggage. The reviews didn’t say anything about the shonky lift!

I’ve also written down some thoughts regarding politics.

I remain shocked and horrified at the outcome of the US presidential election.

With regard to Trump’s cabinet picks: I remember Brian Cox saying to his children in Succession, “You are not serious people”. It is hard to see the US  being further reduced to this kind of clown show, but they did it to themselves. And there’s enormous hypocrisy in complaining about the prices of eggs and gas, when the travel for Thanksgiving surpassed Thanksgiving travel in recent memory, and then there’s all the present giving, the “Black Friday” sales, and Christmas: it’s hard to believe these people are hard up, although millions still live in poverty, some with no sewage, and lead pipes, and breathe in chemical fumes; some powerful people seem to have disregard for the environment, even as they live through extreme heats events, to say nothing of storms and hurricanes.

Anyway, you haven’t just done it to yourselves, America, you do it to the rest of the world. We are all affected by this vote. And you had a good, honest, upright man in President Biden, who’s a human being, after all, but was a great American president.  How could you turn away from the good laws? The great economy? 

Trump’s cabinet picks are so awful, and there’s so many of them, that people are focusing on the dreadful Pete Hegseth as Defense Secretary. But what about RFK Junior?  The man who would abandon vaccines, and research into new medicines?  Advances in medical technology are keeping both JD and me alive at present, and hopefully for some time to come.  When I had an SAH back in September 2011, the techniques that kept me alive were only developed in the 1990’s, I think. If this had happened when my children were small, I would have been a vegetable, had I lived. Who voted for RFK Jnr?  Nobody.

Then there’s the complete disregard of the co-called law, where not only could Trump not be prosecuted for the many terrible things he has done, but some, like Peter Navarro, who actually were prosecuted, are being brought back into the administration. Charlie Kushner, whom Trump pardoned, even though he had served prison time for his dreadful crimes, is to be US Ambassador to France. The good people of France don’t deserve that, I think.

The Americans can do their own crazy thing, of course, but you can’t help encountering them: JD and I met many on our recent trip overseas.  While most avoided getting into conversation with us (a sense of shame, perhaps?), others displayed that annoying sense of entitlement that one finds so irritating. The American influence is pervasive in larger Italian cities, where a “Long black” coffee is assumed to be an Americano, and waffle makers reign supreme. When we travel, we try to adopt the customs of the local people, and accept that things won’t be just like home. That’s one of the joys of travel! In France, Spain or Italy, one has orange juice, a croissant and coffee. Merveilleux!

Back in New Zealand, the WCC have voted to demolish the City to Sea Bridge, rather than fixing it. Should a major earthquake happen to affect the bridge, the people who happen to be on it would not have anything fall on them, Traffic underneath might be affected, but this might be a few cars.  So even if there are problems, let’s keep the bridge for now, Apparently the Michael Fowler Centre is likely to be demolished, as well.  It’s been a good venue for many things – concerts, even opera, and a Labour Party rally. The acoustics weren’t great to start with, but now they’ve been fixed. Seating is tight, but you know it will be tight.

While overseas I visited Canterbury Cathedral, Durham Cathedral, the St Mark Basilica in Venice, the famous Basilica on Torcello, and many religious sites in Ravenna. I saw many brick buildings. I rejoiced in the fact that none of them was considered to be “earthquake prone”.  This earthquake-focus in Wellington is just so annoying, as buildings are demolished, or strengthened, then strengthened again, and many apartment owners cannot sell and cannot afford to do whatever strengthening is required. So here we not only don’t have really old stuff, what we do have all need fixing. What a world we inhabit here.

That’s it for now. Next, Roma!  Slava Ukraini! Ngā mihi nui.

Torcello: the exterior of the Basilica Maria Asunta

We arrived by train from Milan on Monday around 2 pm. The station did open onto the Grand Canal, but you had to walk past lots of shops first! And there was an advertising mural on the bridge. It seemed far more commercial than I’d remembered it. JD decided we could walk to our hotel. There seemed to be hordes of people everywhere, most of them wheeling large suitcases, and not especially polite. We walked and walked and then caught a water ferry to the Rialto. This was very crowded, and there was nothing to hold on to. Then we walked some more and reached our beautiful hotel. The man on the desk was very helpful.

Our room is on the third floor, a large room with a window that opens onto a courtyard. There’s also a fine bathroom with shower over bath and a bidet, and proper soap too. And it also has a window that opens!

I had just taken my shoes off when JD decided he wanted to walk to the nearest laundrette, about 15 minutes. To our surprise, the guest laundry advertised in the hotel brochure does not exist.

We reach the self-service coin operated laundry, but spurn the gluten free pizza and tofu offered locally. Instead I buy a gelato nearby. It comes in a cone, a scoop of coffee -flavoured and one of chocolate , with a spoon. And this is piccolo! I had intended to buy two cones, but one is huge and is plenty for us both! I go back to the laundrette to share it with JD, but sadly I spill some onto my blouse and jersey: ironically, since we’re at the laundrette, but I wouldn’t wash them here.

The shops are very interesting, well, most of them, anyway!  The streets are just lanes, really, but everything is very clean and there are no bikes or scooters to be avoided. Just  other people! But there aren’t crowds everywhere we go. These wee streets remind me of Thomas Mann’s novella, Death in Venice. What a sad story that turned out to be.

Then we walked back, buying a flower-decorated resin dish to take home to New Zealand. It’s charming to look at the lovely shops along the way.

Once back, we set out to a nearby restaurant for dinner.  Annoyingly, we were seated near an Australian couple.  I had veal scallopini with lemon sauce and fried potatoes – delicious. I love the way they do the fried potatoes! For dessert I chose cannoli, something I’d always wanted to try but hadn’t as yet. Actually I didn’t like the filling, although I can’t say just what it was.

During the meal I was given a beautiful red rose! I kept it in our bedroom for the next few days. Afterwards we were given wee glasses of limon cello and a plate of biscuits!

This is a truly beautiful four star hotel, but the bed let’s it down – it’s the most uncomfortable bed I’ve slept on in our entire trip! Still, the other facilities make up for that. The lift is really slow, but there’s a beautiful entrance foyer when you come in.

We had a wonderful breakfast in the morning: JD could have cereal; I made toast (easy!) and spread it with butter for my delicious scrambled eggs.  I also had a croissant con crema, and some fresh fruit, as well as coffee. The breakfast room backs onto a small canal, and you can see gondolas going past. It’s a real treat as long as you aren’t sitting next to someone annoying! 

After breakfast we made our way to St Mark’s square, a few minutes’ walk from our hotel. How beautiful it is! We went up in the campanile – lift only, and admired the wonderful view from the viewing platform, although it was very cold.

Then we went through the Doge’s Palace. We saw the room celebrating the Battle of Lepanto, which I remembered from our previous visit, and we went through the prison, still very scary. The “Noli me tangere” sign is still scratched on a cell wall.

Afterwards we lingered in the shop, buying books about the Palazzo Ducale, and about Canaletto. I would have liked to buy T-shirts for our grandchildren, but they were very expensive. Actually most things for sale in Venice are very expensive. What a surprise.

Then we walked back to the hotel before changing onto warmer clothing and setting out for our gondola trip. That went well, although it wasn’t quite what I expected! It was surprisingly hard to get on and off the boat. We sailed beneath the famous Bridge of Sighs. Michael, our gondolier, wasn’t a professional singer but he sang beautifully, just the same.

Then it was time for coffee and cake. It was too cold to sit outside, so we went to Caffe Florian. Wow! I had Caffe con crema, far more whipped cream than coffee; JD had affogato, and we shared a ricotta cheesecake that was decorated with berries. Everything was delicious, and we were served quite quickly. Everything came on a tray, beautifully presented, with water too.

On the way back to our hotel we looked at jewellery shops. JD bought me a most unusual necklace with green beads. I wasn’t going to say no, now, was I?

The next day (Wednesday) I had booked for us to take a boat tour to Murano, Torcello and Burano at 11:30 am. We were supposed to pick up our tickets first, from the ticket office in St Mark’s Square, and when I googled it the night before it looked fine. But although we set off early, JD wanted to get some cash first. We went to a local ATM, and waited to use it. But both machines were out of order. Then we walked to a Deutsche Bank one, but it didn’t have the Cirrus sign. Then we walked to San Marco, but there were crowds of people, and we had trouble finding the right ticket office. After being misdirected a couple of times, we were told to walk towards the Gardens, a long way away. We got there, and bought our tickets, but just missed our boat! Never mind, there’d be another boat in an hour, and we could catch that. So we went to a fine caféand had coffee, a croissant with apricot jam, and warmed apple strudel with custard.

Then we caught our boat. First stop was the island of Murano, where we watched a very impressive glass making exhibition. Then we spent quite a while in the shop. Everything was very expensive, but we did get a locket for my daughter’s birthday.  They don’t make the trademark Murano glass like we bought in 1974, and which can be found in antique shops today. It’s amazing to think we still have those six beautiful glasses.

Then it was on to the island of Torcello. I knew this was a must-see place, and so it was, although we had a 10 minute walk to the Basilica.  It was a flat, sunny, beautifully paved walk there, and it was well worth seeing. Hardly anyone goes to the famous basilica, but of course they have a shop there! Afterwards I bought a book and a picture of the famous last Judgment in the Basilica of Santa Maria Asunta. Then we walked quickly back to the boat, buying a cake to eat for lunch on the way. It wasn’t very nice, but I finished my apricot croissant that I’d kept from morning tea.

Then we stopped at the island of Burano, which specializes in lace-making. There were more beautiful shops, of course, and tempting things to buy. Much of the lacework reminded me of my mother’s generation, with their embroidered, lacy tablecloths and napkins. We bought a mask, a fan, a key ring, and a bib for our new granddaughter, and resisted the urge to buy other things. Then it was back to wait for the boat back to Venice, and find somewhere to sit down.  Then we sailed back to Venice, and watched a beautiful sunset as we went. I would have loved to spend more time on Torcello and less on the other two islands, but I was so pleased that we’d visited these beautiful islands, particularly Torcello. They are all different from Venice itself.

That night we ate at Noemi Restaurant. JD left his woollen cap there, but we picked it up the next day. I had sole meunière, and we shared a salad. The sole was nice – rather like flounder. I think I managed to eat it correctly, and avoided bones for the most part.

One visit we did was to a Taiwanese exhibition, which was free, but very confronting.

On our last night we had dinner at restaurant with a menu in Russian: I had crumbed veal with those amazing fried potatoes: JD had chicken. The veal is pale, and delicious, with a slice of lemon; I think anywhere else you’d be offered chutney or sauce with it. We did not have dessert there, but stopped at a bar to have whisky and gingerina (very orange!), tiramisu gelato (not great, they didn’t have coffee-flavoured ice cream) and a lemon tart. It all had a “Subway” kind of aftertaste.

On our walk back to our hotel we stopped on the famous Rialto Bridge. I think of “The Merchant of Venice”, again. 

That morning (Thursday) we queued up, not for long, to see inside San Marco Basilica. I don’t think we’ve seen it before! It was just amazing. We paid extra to see the Palo D’Oro too. I wondered why we hadn’t seen it before, but when we came in January 1974 is was very cold, and many things were closed.

Then there was time to spare, so we got tickets to the Archaeological Museum, now separate from the Ducal Palace Museum.  JD asked about maps, and was told no; there was lots about Antonio Canova, and there were globes and then there were maps!

Then we went back to the hotel and retrieved our luggage. JD asked the way to the railway station (Ferrovia), and was directed to Rialto station for the vaporetto. But sadly, we went the wrong way! Never mind, there was plenty of time.

We crossed a small bridge (awkward, with the luggage), and caught another vaporetto, this time taking the correct route.  It was very busy. JD’s luggage got swamped by other people’s, although we had tried to keep it nearby for a quick get-off.  There was a young woman with two cats in separate carriers.

Then we walked to a nearby restaurant to have lunch. We both had omelettes, mine with fried potatoes but this time it really was potato chips. We then shared a chocolate tart with berries, and had coffee.

We went back to the railway station, still way too early, and sat outside to watch the Grand Canal in the sunshine. It was actually quite cold and windy.

Going to Venice was one of the highlights of our trip. We did all the things I really wanted to do here except visit the Basilica Santa Maria Salute.  It beckons across the water, and I really wanted to see it, but perhaps there’ll be another time.

Slava Ukraini! Nga mihi nui.

Milano Centrale

Last time I wrote we were on the train to Strasbourg. A man we had met in Durham on the boat trip had done this train trip. That Sunday (yesterday) was a day of some drama, as it turned out.  We successfully got to Gare de l’Est, and got the right train to Strasbourg. I managed to eat a croissant and drink some coffee before we got on the train. JD caused me great anxiety by his repeated delays, leaving me with the small suitcase and two back packs so I couldn’t go anywhere. But he did show up with a bottle of Orangina, so that was nice. There were ticket checks, and then we got on the train.

It was a short trip to Strasbourg, and the connecting train to Basel SBB was at the next platform. There weren’t allocated seats, but the train wasn’t full. It was another short trip to Basel, where there was a 50 minute interval. So far, so good. JD congratulated me on having organized this, and printed the tickets. The architecture changed as we left France- German then Swiss; it was different again in Italy.

Basel was a big station, and confusing as large stations are. We went past a restaurant where JD wanted to go, but I needed to find a bathroom, and where our next train went from. It wasn’t at all obvious where the restroom(s) were. I guess all large railway stations have their own logic. I asked at an information desk – it was platform 6, but we needed to go down two levels to the WC. It cost €1.50, but it was clean with thick toilet paper and warm water, soap and paper towels to wash your hands.

Then we set about getting something to eat, and wandered into a German sausage place! I couldn’t cope with the smells from that that but had a double espresso and another croissant. We went to buy some food to eat on our next train trip – I had told JD I wanted a baguette with ham and cheese, but we were no longer in France, and this was not to be. I am missing French food already!

We bought some food at a convenience store, a long baguette which had ham, lettuce, tomato and egg but not cheese. It was so long I thought we could share it, but it wasn’t very nice and was very tough to eat. I gave up after I reached my the slice of hard boiled egg. I had thought this was cheese. JD bought more cut fruit. And then we went to board the very long train to Milano Centrale, coach 6, seats 21 & 23.

Or so we thought. JD directed me to this coach! All went fine, and fast, until strange things started to happen. The train stopped at Lucerne, and then went backwards! There were no ticket checks. It grew dark outside. We were warned that Italian border guards would be coming through to check passports and baggage, but in the event three guys walked straight past us. The train got slower and slower once it reached Italy.  There were no ticket checks at all until about two hours into our almost 5 hour journey. A guard then shocked us by advising that we were on coach 16, whereas we should have been in coach 6. Our train would terminate in Chiasso, not Milan. There was a very short stop coming up, but the next one, Bellinzona, would be longer (4 minutes). We would have to get off the train and reboard it, as the current one terminated at Chiasso, not at Milano Centrale.

We loaded our bags and proceeded through the train to coach 11, and could go no further – we’d come to another train engine. So we sat down and waited anxiously for the next stop.  When it came, we hurried along the platform and got on the train again, coach 6, just as the doors were closing. Phew!

Then we proceeded to Milano Centrale, stopping at Chiasso but then carrying on. From now on it seemed a very slow trip indeed.   I would have liked to use the toilets, but didn’t want to on the train. JD did use it, but claimed there were no hand washing facilities there. We were tired, hungry and apprehensive.

Finally, amazingly we arrived in Milan on time, according to the schedule I had booked. Milano Centrale is another busy station, and it wasn’t easy to find our way out, but we did and although it was very dark by now, it was easy to find our IH hotel.  It was luxurious by previous standards – a big room, and a lovely bathroom with bidet and good shower space. What a joy! Our fee included breakfast too.

We went across the street to an Italian restaurant, Pianeta Luna, which was far more upmarket than the picture JD had showed me. He had mushroom risotto, and I had ravioli with spinach and ricotta and sage butter. There was bread, too, of course, and JD asked for olive oil. We were given a large bottle, and one of balsamic vinegar too.  Afterwards we shared a beautiful tiramisu.

Breakfast was great. Beautiful orange juice; they even had scrambled eggs and bacon – better than the English bacon, I thought. I struggled with the toaster, but got it to work, although it was slow. They had croissants with jam, and without, and butter; they also had tinned peach halves, and stewed prunes!

There are many things to do in Milan: see da Vinci’s Cenacolo, see Michelangelo’s Rondanini Pièta; see the lovely Pinocoteca di Brera again, but silly me, they’re all closed on a Monday. And I have seen them before. I’d like to visit the beautiful Duomo again, but rather than it being near the railway station it’s about ½ hour’s walk. Our train too Venice leaves at 11:30 am, and we decide to take it easy and not try to see the delights of Milan. There is sunshine! It’s a beautiful day, and the first proper sunshine we’ve seen since we were in Singapore, although it was almost sunny in England sometimes..

The young women in France and Italy were well dressed and beautifully made up; the girls in England looked a tad overweight for the most part. I wish that I’d brought makeup: I did bring some, but left it in Canterbury.

We did not attempt to visit the beautiful duomo again: I had thought it was nearby the station, but it was 2.3 km away. JD had a shower, and we checked out by 11 and made our way to the station. And then it was easy to find the right platform, and board – first class this time. It’s been a beautiful fine sunny day, and we had an enjoyable train ride to Venice – about 2 1/2 hours’ ride.

When we got there, we had to walk quite a way, and then through the shops to the Grand Canal!  It actually seemed very crowded and commercial, not as I’d remembered it. JD decided we could walk to our hotel. We set out, and the crowds lessened, but we ended up taking a vaporetto to Rialto and then walking some more.

What a treat when we got to our lovely hotel.  There’s a lovely big entrance foyer. There’s a big bedroom, with a window that opens; a bathroom with bath and bidet and two handbasins and lots of nice toiletries, including cakes of soap. That’s a relief, since I left my tubes of shampoo and conditioner back in Milan. Oh, and there’s a fridge too, as well as tea and coffee making facilities, even chocolates. There are scuffs in the wardrobe. 

But no rest: the advertised free laundry doesn’t exist, and JD wants to walk about 15 minutes to a coin operated laundry. So I put my shoes on again, empty out one of the backpacks, take my phone off the charger, and ask him to bring me drinks of water. 

Interlude

We’re back in New Zealand now, and getting over heavy colds.  It’s frustrating but seems a small price to pay for having such a wonderful trip, where we weren’t held up by strikes or delays or extreme weather events or even extreme turbulence.

Having said that, it is a bit frustrating to be back.  Currently the WCC is considering whether to demolish the famous City to Sea Bridge, and even the Begonia House!  How can they? Apparently the Khandallah Pool is to be saved: the Khandallah Community fought very hard for that one.  But what a sad place Wellington is:  when we go to New World Supermarket in Thorndon, we now have to navigate bike lanes when we drive out. So what are the road rules for bikes? Do cars have to stop for them?  I do sympathise with bike riders, but really, it’s just so hard to get around the city, and when you do, what shops are still open?   While we were away, New Zealand seemed just so very far away. Although I live here, it still does. I don’t know that I’d like to live in Europe, but I wish it were a bit easier to get there!  Having said that, it was nice, while there, to know what we wanted to see, and not to feel obliged to do things all the time.

That’s it for now. Slava Ukraini! Ngā mihi nui.

The interior of Sainte Chapelle, near Notre Dame Cathedral, Paris

We got to Paris, which seems just as grimy and overcast as London, but a bit colder. Although we were sitting in the middle class for Eurostar (not first class, and not standard), this time we don’t have a good view. Nevertheless, we are fed. The Gard du Nord is crazily busy, and just as hectic as ever. What a joy it is to speak a little French again.

We walked to our hotel – quite a long walk and quite confusing as the hotel had changed its name to Hotel de l’Aqueduc! It was advertised as Hotel near Gare du Nord. 

They were expecting us however. We have a room on the first floor with a very tiny bathroom (no fan). But the shower has a good oblong space, even if it has a mind of its own! And the bed is comfortable, and on the first floor. We often use the stairs as they’re quite convenient.  There are nice wee cakes of soap. Breakfast is not paid for – it’s quite expensive, so we don’t eat there.

Although we are close to the Gare du Nord and the Gare de l’Est, and there is train noise during the daytime, it’s quiet at night, and we don’t even hear sirens like one usually does in Paris at night.

We had a rest before walking to a nearby restaurant in the nearby upmarket Hotel Bloom. I felt bad about not dressing up more, but we had such a nice waitress. We both had tournedos of veal, cooked slightly more towards medium than the chef’s preferred rare; thankfully the portions weren’t large. I had a cocktail with berries and tonic water and I’m sure something alcoholic, although I thought it was a mocktail! For dessert I had Panna Cotta with poached pear and toasted coconut; JD had something chocolate.

Then we walked back to our hotel and tried to sleep. In the morning I made a cup of tea, but the water here is even worse that in London.

We walked to a bakery nearby, Maison Bichon, for breakfast. This was very basic with limited seating, a bakery rather than a café, but the food was delicious – very nice croissants, an apricot and pistachio slice, crepes, orange juice and coffee. There was no butter or jam, but you didn’t need it – the food was delicious without fillings or toppings.  Despite the few formica-topped tables, this was a good find.

Then we went back to the hotel and JD had a shower before we tackled our next challenge – how to get to l’Ȋle de la Cité using the metro. It now seems to be known as Ȋle de France.

We walked to the Gare du Nord, to discover how to use the Metro. It’s all changed since we were last here!  We ask some folk in official uniforms, and are advised to walk some way to a ticket office and ticket machines. Sure enough, there is a queue for the Actual Person in the ticket office. An official is checking the queue to see what we need. He very helpfully tells us what metro to take to St Michel, the station we’re after, and advises JD to be very careful about storing his money. This advice is kindly received, but JD is super careful: only problem is, it’s such a mission to retrieve cash or card!

We came out of the St Michel station and gazed at Nôtre Dame Cathedral. It still needs a lot of repair, but it’s still grand, and people are looking forward to its re-opening. (Actually it will open in December this year – we just missed that). It’s still majestic.

We find our way to our alternative destination, the Chapel of Sainte-Chapelle. When we got there we had to queue for ages, and then got through to be securitized. There was an important trial going on next door. It was frustrating to queue for so long, but the weather wasn’t too bad.

When we finally got through, it wasn’t too crowded inside. There’s an initial chapel with stained glass windows, but at one end there are curving store stairs.  We climb the stairs, with some doubt on my part, ascending to another, more glorious chapel with more magnificent stained glass windows.  I am so glad we came to see this place. There is definitely an Islam influence here. It’s quite unprepossessing from the outside.

We had lunch at a nearby café where we could watch Notre Dame: I had an omelette, JD had a croque monsieur, and we shared affogato. 

After this we took a cruise on the Seine. The boat did a circuit, which took about an hour.  It stopped at all the usual landmarks, although you would have had to walk some way to reach them.  It is idyllic, calm, and quite beautiful.

We got the metro back to Gare Du Nord successfully, but then couldn’t get out of the building! Machines kept rejecting our tickets, until someone officially us through. Gare du Nord seemed like such a maze.

That night we ate at L’Etoile de Est, but sadly it was not a good choice. The man serving spoke some English, and tried to be helpful. We both ordered steak fries, a small portion, but they were huge and came with salad and a huge bowl of fries, and bread, of course. But they actually had orangina!  We shared a chocolate/coffee cheesecake for dessert. That was delicious. On previous visits we’d found it a challenge to eat well in France, which seems strange, since I love French cooking. But this meal is our only real disappointment.

The next day was a busy one. I’d pre-booked tickets for the Louvre. We got a taxi from our hotel, and as we were a bit early and hadn’t eaten we went to the nearby Cafe Ruc for le petit déjeuner – orange juice, of course, tea for JD and a double espresso for me, and pastries and heated bread with butter, honey and jam. 

Then we queued up in the queue for people with tickets set for 10:30 am. It all worked well, the guards could scan my two tickets on my phone despite my having no Wi-Fi, and before long we were securitized and in the Louvre, along with thousands of other people. It seemed almost as crazily busy as when we were last here in 2016, at the height of summer. (Note: this system later failed me when we tried to go to the Vatican Museums).

Once in, it was nice to be able to see what we wanted, although the crowds were horrendous in most places. Caravaggio’s Fortune Teller was a highlight, as were paintings by Géricault and David, and statues of captive slaves by Michelangelo.  Of course we saw the Winged Victory of Samothrace, and the famous Venus de Milo; there was a huge queue to see the Mona Lisa, so we didn’t get close to that painting. But there was another painting by Leonardo da Vinci that I prefer. Most of the things I particularly wanted to see did not have huge crowds.

After this we sat and tried to figure from the printed guide how to get to a café for some lunch, when the fire alarm went, several times, and we were urged to leave. We’d actually seen most of what we wanted to see, so we endeavoured to go, although many visitors seemed unfazed by the emergency. I kept thinking of previous terrorist attacks in Paris, and what a coup it would be to pull one off here. 

As we made our way out, it seemed the emergency was over, and people were being let in again. We followed the Sortie signs, to masses of shops and cafes, including Starbucks.

We made our way back to Cafe Ruc, where a beautiful lady called Marguerite served us. We both had omelettes, and I enjoyed another Orangina. There was bread, too. I regret that French omelettes aren’t quite what they used to be! The 3 egg omelette is really too large for me. Afterwards we shared a lemon and raspberry tart with raspberry sauce served in a separate wee bowl, and double espressos.

Then we set out to walk to the Musée de L’Orangerie through the Jardins des Tuileries. We marvelled at how beautiful Paris is, and just what a lovely walk it was. The architecture is so beautiful! It was a lovely walk, and not too cold. At the museum there was a queue, of course!  We stood in line and eventually got through. The gallery features Monet’s Water Lilies in two large rooms, where you can sit and watch the enormous paintings all around you. There are some nice Picasso paintings too, and some by Matisse, although not my favourites. Before leaving we spent time in the shop, of course.  I had regretted not buying a scarf at the Durham Cathedral shop: now was my chance to get another one. And so I did, and I think it’s am even nicer one: it’s a silk mixture, not too long, and goes well with my puffer jacket and most of my clothes.

By then it was quite dark outside, and we walked to the nearest taxi stand. JD wanted to go straight to the restaurant Bloom where we’d had a lovely meal, but he couldn’t find it on his phone, and the driver had no English, so we asked him to take us to our hotel. It’s tricky finding Hotel de l’Aqueduc in Google Maps too! Poor google is getting really confused by multiple searches. So-called free Wi-Fi has many limitations, although it’s almost universal.

We do feel vulnerable relying so much on our phones. For some reason JD has Wi-Fi on his phone, but I do not, so it’s very tricky.

I realise that I need to book our future train trips in advance, since going to a ticket office (like we used to) is no longer practicable.  I’m way of doing this, but get all the way through one booking to be defied by the CAPTCHA request – I am not a robot. So my booking falls over, although the bank here has sent me a code for the credit card payment. I keep getting reminders about completing the booking.  But next day I try on JD’s phone, and that works. I forward the email to me with the tickets and required QR codes.  It’s lots of fun!!! Next time I need a phone with more storage space, and I need to book in advance. I also need to be careful about changing trains.

 Also, of JD uses lots of Wi-Fi, Spark decides he’s used his allocation and pauses it till it renews his package.

We find a cab, but the drive back to our hotel seems very circuitous.  Walking would probably have been faster! We went to the restaurant Bloom again, but it being Friday night, they were fully booked.

We walked further and found an Italian restaurant. There are lots of cafes in the Gare Du Nord area, but not so many in the area of our hotel.

The Italian restaurant, Adaggio, was very good, and rapidly filled up after we entered. JD had lasagne and salad, and I had escalope of chicken in a beautiful tomato sauce; it had spicy salami on top of the chicken which I didn’t enjoy so much.  There was a bowl of linguine too – that was delicious too. Sadly, I could not eat very much of it. I think we shared a dessert but I can’t remember what it was!

Saturday was a very interesting day. JD had had a bad night, so he needed Panadol and humouring. We went to Maison Bichon again for breakfast. Thankfully it was open! The crepes were all gone, but we had croissants and an apple cake and orange juice and coffee.

Then JD had a shower, and we set out to go to Versailles again. The guy on the desk had given us instructions the previous evening. We went to the Gare to Du Nord and queued up to buy tickets: it seemed easy, you took the Metro to St Michel – Notre Dame again, and then a regional RER train to Versailles Chateau-Rive Gauche.  Easy as. And it all worked!

This time we were wise to the guy advising people to buy tickets from the machines – they seemed very problematic, looking at the evident frustration of the people trying to use them.

On the way there we went through a modern area with buildings very different from the city centre, but not unattractive.

When we got to Versailles, we bought return tickets – there wasn’t a queue at the railway station there. Then we set out to walk to Versailles, stopping at a cafe/restaurant for lunch.

JD had quiche Lorraine and salad; I chose soufflé with smoked salmon which came with salad, but the souffle was more like a frittata. The quiche was delicious. Then we shared what I thought was a Tarte tatin, but was an apple custard tart.

Then we set out to walk to the Chateau of Versailles – a 5-10 minute walk. The cobbled stones were not so smooth to walk on. We stood in a queue for a while, but it was for people who’d pre-booked! Then we went through to the Gardens and the Trianon area. There were heaps of people here too! It’s all vast. We hired a go-fer (a golf cart) and set out to drive along the selected area.  That was fun. We went to the Grand Canal, and to the Petit and Grand Trianons. We stopped and queued up to visit the larger one, marvelling that we’d walked here during our first trip in early 1974!  It’s all vast, all wonderful. The gardens are enormous, I doubt that any one person could appreciate them. I remembered how cold it had been on our previous visit in early January 1974.  It wasn’t as cold this time.

The we queued up to use the toilets at the Chateau before returning to the railway station. The restroom was clean-ish, but there was no toilet paper, so I was glad to have brought some tissues.

Then we walked to the now very busy railway station, and got on a very busy train back to St Michel – Notre Dame.  I agonised over whether this was the right train, but sure enough, it got us to where we wanted to go. Once there, it was really hard to find the Metro for the rest of our journey, since we’d come on an RER train and needed to go to a different area of the station. After wandering around we came upon a ticket office, where they assured us that our tickets were valid for Gare du Nord, and to catch the magenta coloured Metro. So we did, and it stopped at a number more stations than we were expecting. Once at Gare du Nord, we walked right out onto the street! Confusing?

We walked back to our hotel, where the room keys didn’t work! But we went downstairs and paid the extra tax, and were given new room keys for the extra night. Thankfully our luggage was still in the room. We had almost an hour before our dinner reservation at the Bloom restaurant, so I was grateful to get changed (black trousers and jersey and my lacy black cardigan, plus my new scarf).

Well, what a treat. I had fish (black cod with miso, chicory and grapefruit), and mashed potato, which came in a separate bowl. Well, if fish were cooked like that I’d have it every time. Delicious. I’m not usually a great fan of fish.  JD had Autumn Risotto with Truffles, and it came with parmesan crisps. This was accompanied by sparkling mineral water, a glass of Bollinger, and a glass of Chablis. For dessert I had something with clementines and ice cream, JD had something with chocolate. It’s wonderful to be given portions that are filling without being far too big. Then we returned to the hotel, where although I was really tired, I had trouble sleeping, worrying about the three stage train journey we were to do to Milan the next day.

As we packed, again, we marvelled at how dirty washing takes up far more space than clean clothes!

The next morning I got very frustrated with JD, who seemed to have no sense of urgency at all! Anyway, we got to Gare de l’Est, where the train platform had not yet been announced. We had not been there before, although it was quite close to where we were staying. We had coffee and I had a croissant, he had fruit before we went to platform 30, the furthest away, of course. Anyway, no drama, we found our seats on the very full train. JD had somehow bought a bottle of Orangina, which was a lovely surprise. It’s like orange juice and soda water, not sweet and artificially coloured like Fanta.

So we’re on the train to Strasbourg. It’s very flat here, with the occasional village, where we are to change trains (first change) after a short ride. The architecture has changed completely, since we’re now in Alsace-Lorraine, but although I’ve long wanted to go to Strasbourg, I see very little of it, and certainly not the famous cathedral.

The train for our next short hop to Basel is on the next platform, so there’s no drama with boarding it.

Au revoir, Paris!  Slava Ukraini. Ngā mihi nui.

Durham Cathedral

We caught the train here from Kings Cross station on Saturday morning, arriving Saturday afternoon. The journey takes about 3 ½ hours, passing through Peterborough and York on its way to Edinburgh. Because we were travelling first class, we were served lunch on the way: a bread (brioche) roll, a small tub of yoghurt-like dessert, drinks, and bananas.

 We got a taxi from Durham railway station to our 4* hotel, the Radisson Blu. Now we’re really in corporate territory, I fear. What an experience! The bedroom was on the first floor and was quite large, with nice bathroom with bath. There was no fridge, biscuits or microwave. There was an armchair, so JD asked for an extra duvet.  We did not have a particularly nice view: you could pay extra for that, but there was a large window.

We went for a walk, but were flummoxed by the local area – crossing the river Wear by pedestrian bridge we climbed through modern hospitality area and Millennium Square to get to Market Square and part of the old area. This was a modern area, built to cater for students, with many bars and new-ish restaurants. JD wanted to buy headphones, and although I was very tired we made our way uphill on a mainly pedestrian area to reach the older part of the town and Durham Cathedral on a high plateau. It almost towers over the city, impregnable and solid, for the ages. 

A choir was rehearsing Faure’s Requiem, for Evensong later that day. It was so beautiful and seemed appropriate, as we sat and listened for a while. You aren’t allowed to take photographs in the Cathedral. The pillars are immense! It’s quite different from Canterbury Cathedral. The pillars have a Byzantine influence, something that was later conveyed to us by a guide. This cathedral is quite different from Canterbury Cathedral, although neither of them is particularly ornate.

Then we walked back to our hotel where we had an evening meal: vegetable soup for each of us, followed by a very nice cheeseboard that we shared. A feature of this included a very nice butter, wrapped in foil like a wee cheese, and Wookey Hole cheese – a rinded cheese that was quite mild, but delicious.  We had wine and prosecco as well.

The next morning I wanted to go to the 10 am morning service at the Cathedral. The problem was, where to have breakfast? The hotel offered Full English Breakfast for £25.99. Ridiculous! We could have it on the way, but most coffee shops didn’t open till 9:30 am. There was supposed to be a 24 hour restaurant called Collage at the hotel, but we couldn’t find it, and we’re later told that it was now Josef’s, with limited hours and very high prices.

In the event we ate at Vennel’s Cafe, a rather rustic student hang out where I was rather put off by seeing a fly crawl over their scones. Still the woman serving us was very eager to please. We had their special, a brioche bun with sausage and a fried egg, two oat milk lattes, and two orange juices.  By the time they came it was a rush to eat and drink before rushing up to the Cathedral by 10 am, but somehow  we did that, taking our uneaten food with us.

We got to the Cathedral as the clergy were processing in, and then were allowed to sit down. It was quite wonderful again. A second sung Eucharist, but we could join in singing the hymns. It’s wonderful to sing in a Cathedral, as it was in Canterbury. 

A highlight was singing Love Divine, All Loves Excelling.  Afterwards we couldn’t look at the cathedral till after 12; they had a Morning Prayer service to do yet.

So we walked to the UNESCO visitor centre where we saw the Archaeological museum and also saw Bishop John Cosin’s library. All these old books! One wonders just how many he read. Apparently he owned a copy of Shakespeare’s First Folio. The library had all the books in closed bookshelves and was temperature controlled. I really wanted to buy a picture of the large Rose Window in the cathedral, but was told they have their own shop. 

So we went back to the cathedral and explored some, finding the Shrine of St Cuthbert and sitting for a time there. It’s a lovely restful spot. There are signs around asking you to be respectful and prayerful. Then we went down to visit the shop, where there were many wonderful things, all very expensive. I wanted, but did not buy a beautiful blue scarf. But we did buy a book about the cathedral, and a rose window design to stick onto a window at home.  (I later bought a beautiful scarf from the Orangerie in Paris, so I didn’t miss out completely).

Then it was seriously time to have lunch, and we went to a rather upmarket restaurant in one of the streets nearby. If I had known, we were really near the Elvet bridge!  I had Sea Bass with potatoes Dauphinoise, and broccoli; JD had a chicken burger. He also ordered an iced -tea based cocktail which tasted very nice but I fear was a cocktail rather than a mocktail.

After this we wandered back to our hotel where there was no evidence of housekeeping having been! Did they even do daily housekeeping, I wondered? There were several housekeeping trolleys in the corridor. Eventually some one came and I asked for clean towels. The woman was very perfunctory, but we got clean towels and facecloths; no bath mat.

We had a long rest after that, and later went down to the bar for something to eat and drink.  They gave JD his whiskey and ginger ale, and me my appletiser. They also brought two servings of Sticky Toffee Pudding which we enjoyed

Monday was a free day but there were problems with several things being closed: the Oriental museum, and the Auckland project, an interesting venue about 20 minutes drive away.  The Durham museum was permanently close.  However we planned to do lots of walking, and go to Evensong at the cathedral at 5:30 pm. There were two bridges and some galleries I wanted to check out. I had though there were some Turner paintings here, but this was not the case, although he visited and painted the cathedral.

We had breakfast at the hotel, asking at the bar for coffee, orange juice, and two croissants, so as to avoid the exorbitant costs at the restaurant for the breakfast buffet.  That took a while: I think one of the lasses had to go out to buy fresh croissants, but when they eventually came, they were wonderful! Two warmed croissants each, and a pain au chocolat, with beautiful butter and jam.

JD wanted to do some washing, so we set out to walk to the nearest laundry, which turned out to be near the railway viaduct. When we got there, the laundry wasn’t self-service, and the washing had to be picked up the next day! That was no good for us.  The hotel did not have a guest laundry, like most New Zealand motels do! Our fancy hotel would do laundry starting at £3 for one pair of socks! Ridiculous. We then set out to walk to the Elvet Bridge, which turned out to be very near where we’d been the day before. There were boat services too, including one cruise at 12:30 pm.

So we went to a cafe close by to have a quick lunch before sailing. Of course, nothing happens quickly! I ordered a tuna and mayo sandwich, which was enormous; JD ordered more widely- a ham and cheese toastie. Again, we ended up taking our uneaten food with us. We should have shared!

We found our way back down to the River where you paid £10 each on board for senior citizens. It was very cold on the boat, but there was a nice man sitting in front of us who was very informative. He had travelled in Europe and had actually taken the train trip I had booked from Paris to Milan! I was comforted by that, as it had been hard work to book, with two changes. More about that later.

The tour took about 45 minutes, and was good value. We saw Prebends bridge, and had many more wonderful views of the Cathedral and the castle. There was great scepticism about Londoners; Durham reminded me of Glasgow far more than the south of England.

Then we went back to our hotel for a rest before going to Evensong. Again, housekeeping had not been to our room! I made the bed, and asked for clean towels and more teabags. Then someone else knocked on the door to ask whether we’d like our room serviced.

It was dark when we went to Evensong, but we climbed up the hill again and got there a few minutes early. We were guided to sit in a section of the choir stalls. This was an Evensong/Evening Prayer service, with the choir of St Hild and St Bede. It was well attended. Strangely, the person officiating did not pray in relation to the American Election, which, of course, was on everyone’s minds.

After that we headed back to our hotel, hoping to find somewhere to eat on the way.

We stopped at the Market Inn, but they didn’t seem that interested in serving us. then we walked though the Odeon Centre. There were many Italian restaurants, and many strange newer ones, but we went back to our hotel where I had a delicious starter – a kind of ham terrine, with “pease pudding” which turned out to be stewed split peas and tasted rather like hummus, with a slice of toast and pickled vegetables.

Afterwards I had lemon posset with berries and shortbread biscuits, and JD had a Chocolate Pie with “drunk” berries, which was also delicious.

This morning we breakfasted at a local coffee bar, in Millennium Square. I had a bacon sandwich and black filtered coffee, while JD had fresh fruit and a sultana scone with butter and jam. That worked well for me! We walked up to a a Gregg’s store to buy food to take on the train back to London. Then we checked out of the hotel and caught a taxi to Durham station.

Then we caught the train back to London (second class this time), to Kings Cross Station.

Back in busy old London, we walk to Gower Street where the Regency House Hotel is located. It is fine and warm, although confusing, of course, to get there. This is a more salubrious area of London.

The B&B Hotel, recommended to me by a friend, is in an old house with lots of stairs. As luck would have it we’re placed in a family room on the ground floor, with plenty of space. There’s also a fridge and a microwave oven, and a tiny bathroom with heated flooring.

We went out to find a laundrette, not too far away; then we had dinner at a Greek/Turkish little restaurant in the Russell Square area.  We went to sleep, but sadly I woke before midnight to learn that the US Presidential Election was well under way, and Trump was winning!  After that I didn’t want to listen any more.

In the morning we dressed and went down to the breakfast room, where, as my friend had told me, the breakfast was excellent. There was juice, a small pot of brewed coffee, plenty of toast, and whatever you wanted of the Full English Breakfast. You could also have an omelette. We sat at individual tables, which was nice.

Then we left our bags at Reception, and set out for the British Museum.

While we waited for it to open at 10 am, we went to a café in the park nearby.

The museum was busy, and confusing, but we saw lots of classical statues, the Parthenon Friezes (formerly known as the Elgin Marbles), and the Rosetta Stone.

Then we set out to walk back to Regency House, pick up our luggage, and head off to St Pancras Station for our Eurostar journey to Paris.

It was quite a long way, and we were relieved to get a taxi just as we were getting back to our hotel. But it was very slow indeed getting to St Pancras – it probably would have been faster to walk. I was worried that we hadn’t allowed enough time to check in.

In the event I need not have worried. It was crammed, everywhere, and we were unsure where to go. There seemed to be an insane number of checks. Silly me, although I’d printed our tickets, I’d printed them double-sided, which is not good for the QR-code reading machines with gates to let you through. JD had to get an old-fashioned boarding pass.

Then we went through to a packed lounge. The Train before ours, going to Brussels, was delayed, so all those folk were there too. There was nowhere to sit: I ended up sitting on the suitcase, till I had to move for a rubbish collector. Then a young man gave up his seat, for which I was very thankful.

Soon our platform was announced, and we went up an escalator to find the correct train and the correct carriage and seats within it.

Again, we were on a full train. Again, we were served lunch – a chicken salad, I think. The route to Paris is grey and not very interesting.

Slava Ukraini! Nga mihi nui.

A view of Canterbury Cathedral, which is nestled in and dominates the town

Our son was to meet us at our hotel in London the next morning, and he was there at 9 am. We had packed up, so we went in search of breakfast, and had something to eat at Granger’s, an Australian chain. I had scrambled eggs on what they called a “knuckle” of ciabatta with butter: in actuality it was very thick toasted bread and the eggs were more like an omelette. JD had corn fritters and we both had oat milk lattes. The kind waiter allowed us to stow our baggage under a counter near our table. 

Afterwards we went to catch a train to Canterbury. Just as well our son was with us, as it went from St Pancras station, not the Kings Cross station where the trains to Durham went from. The scenery is pretty uninspiring! When we got to Canterbury he drove us to his new house. There we met our daughter-in-law and our new granddaughter and gave out the gifts we’d brought.  The new baby is just lovely, and so alert! They all look so well and healthy. She is bigger than I had expected.

After a while we drove to a nearby village (Fordwich) to have lunch at a pub there.  Pub food is generally very good, with comprehensive menus, and the staff are very welcoming. There are generally several different rooms, rather than the “booze barns” that used to be frequent in New Zealand.

 It’s all quite beautiful – old architecture and very pretty. The pub was lovely – I had appletiser to drink and a cheese and pickle sandwich (beautiful fresh brown bread) with crisps and a salad. The baby was a bit unsettled but really good. They have a lovely small pram which folds up.

Then our son took us to our hotel, the Hampton by Hilton, very near the cathedral.  It’s a 3 star, but seems to be very high quality. Our room is a good size, with a couch as requested, and plenty of towels. There is plenty of room to in the bathroom to put things. What a joy!

I did not get a lot of sleep, but I was delighted to have a long shower early in the morning and wash my hair. The breakfast was pretty good: nice fruit, apple and orange juice, and toast with butter, Vegemite, marmalade, honey and strawberry jam. The cooked food was the usual: bacon, sausages (quite delicious), tomatoes, mushrooms, hash browns and scrambled eggs. They don’t seem to do creamy scrambled eggs in England! And there was coffee too. I did not see any porridge. The fruit consisted of rock melon and peaches.  There were two waffle machines, too; I really dislike the smell of the waffle makers, as I dislike the smell of popcorn. But breakfast was delicious and everything seemed clean.

After breakfast we walked to the cathedral. It is majestic, magnificent, truly amazing. There was only a handful of people there, which was nice. We bought some things from the shop on the cathedral. You can buy season tickets which are valid for a year. I think.

Then it was time for coffee. JD chose Stag, an unfortunate name for a place, evidently American, with a strong smell of frying fat. We had oat milk lattes, which were far too big, and we shared a slice which wasn’t very nice. Bad choice!

After this we returned to the hotel to wait for our son. We would do some washing this afternoon, and then go to Evensong at the cathedral at 5:30 pm, and have dinner afterwards

In the event we went shopping with him at the local M&S, buying bread, cheese, salad, ham, avocadoes and sun-dried tomatoes to eat for lunch at his house.  I had a rest there after lunch, but we did not go to Evensong at the cathedral as planned. We were going to eat at a very old pub locally, but they did not serve food on Tuesday, so we ended up having pizzas delivered to the house for tea. JD and I got a taxi back to our hotel afterwards. It cost £15, not the £9 Alfred had quoted to us!

I think I slept a little better last night, but I woke at 1:30 am and had great trouble getting back to sleep. And the headphones wore out! That was so frustrating. If I held on tightly to the end forcing it into the phone, it worked sometimes.

Again we went down to breakfast soon after 6 am.  Then after 9 am I went off to buy more headphones. I found a shop that sold them, but it didn’t open till 9:30 am on a Wednesday! So I had a look at clothes shops, specifically the H&M store. It had lovely clothes. I wasn’t going to buy anything, but after leaving I thought I was stupid not to, so I went back after all. It took me ages to find the jersey I’d so admired. I did eventually, and tried it on and bought it, taking the cardigan I’d brought out of its plastic bag to hold the beautiful new cream jersey I’d bought. Then I bought new headphones, and what a mission that was! The shop had one set, but it looked right. I wanted to pay cash, though, and that was even more complicated!

Then I went back to the hotel. JD had not made progress with his showering, so I left him again and walked to the Cathedral.  There were far more many people there this morning. I followed the tourist route (!), and went down to the Crypt. It was surrounded by several small chapels. JD later explained that each priest had to say Mass daily, so many chapels were needed. There was a weekly service in French, and a Huguenot chapel. The cathedral was a place of refuge, for those fleeing persecution.

We both returned to the Crypt, and then went to have coffee at the Cathedral Lodge, which was actually a hotel . They were happy to make us oat milk lattes, and we shared a slice of Victoria sponge.  I could even log into the hotel’s internet connection. In fact most establishments have “free” Wi-Fi available, although usually you have to give them your email address and allow cookies.

Afterwards we went to the other “official” shop where I bought a beautiful book about the cathedral for £12.  Then we made our way to the Roman museum. This involved going downstairs where there were remains of a Roman settlement that was there back in the day when the Romans were interested in conquering Britain. Actually I did not find it all that interesting.

We had heard from our son that he was tied up with the  budget announcement and budget reaction until about 3:30 pm, so we set about having lunch.

I wanted to avoid anywhere that had a smell of cooking oil, and wanted to go to a Canterbury Bakery that we’d passed and was near our hotel. It was quite roomy, and looked like being somewhere that I’d like to go. So fighting his scepticism, I found it, and it worked well – for me, anyway!  I had a baguette filled with ham and cheese (and generously buttered). (I also had a very tiny, very strong espresso coffee. JD had English Breakfast tea, and bruschetta, which was two slices of bread covered with leaves and avocado. It looked great, but my baguette was delicious, although I could only eat half of it. We also bought a bottle of sparkling water to drink some and take it back to the hotel. The butter in England is really delicious. It tastes good.

We returned, but housekeeping had not been to our bedroom yet, so we repaired  to the downstairs lounge to sit quietly and wait for our son.

That night we had inner at the Yew Tree pub. It was a very old pub, very Falstaffian! Like other good pubs, it had an extensive menu. Down a narrow lane!  The waitress was very helpful. We had pậté to start with, followed by salmon with new potatoes, broccoli and peas, and JD and I shared a creme brulée with autumn compote.

On Thursday I went for a walk after breakfast, and bought a fluffy cream jacket for £9. It seemed a sin not to buy it at that price, although I had already bought a jersey. The cheerful lass serving me even put it in a paper bag with handles which was free!  Then I went to the Cathedral again, and to St Thomas Becket’s shrine.

That day we went to a restaurant called Pedaler outside of Canterbury. This was like a warehouse that had been refurbished, and unlike other venues, was quite cold! Nevertheless, the food was good. Then we went to Margate, where J M W Turner visited often, and other famous people came there too. It has a certain charm, although I was reminded of Butlins’ holiday camps. There is a museum complex there, and a shop, of course, where we bought a book about Turner’s painting style.  I was so glad to have been there.

The next day was our last in Canterbury, for now. The next morning we went punting on the river Stour. That was quite an experience! We were the only passengers, and Emil was most informative. We had to duck our heads several times to get under the low bridges. Everything is so very old here!  The village centre of Canterbury is quite charming, and not how I’d remembered it.

We went to Evensong in the Cathedral that evening (they don’t have a public service on Thursday). It was already dark, and I worried that we would be late. You had to go in using a different entrance, and they were quite formal about the seating. It was All Saints’ Day, and so they had a sung Eucharist.

The service was well attended, and I found it very pleasant to sing in the Cathedral.  But the service was very formal, with lots of incense, and a large procession of clergy – maybe twelve?  Canon Emma took the service, and spoke about the saints having all kept the faith, as we can do, even when things seem to be floundering around us. We are all saints now, she said.  Just days later news broke of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby’s resignation, so in retrospect that seemed very poignant.  I had not kept up with the history of abuse by John Smyth, who was apparently a friend of Welby’s. It is another very sad story.

Then we went to have dinner at Côte, where they welcomed us warmly. You could get two courses for £17.99, and we shared an entrée, ordered two mains, and shared a dessert. What a treat, it was all delicious food, well cooked and prepared.

The next morning our son met us to catch the train back to London; that was a drama, being a very full train with lots of passengers. We had to sit separately! It was bedlam at Kings Cross Station, and I had to queue to use the rest room (of course!), but there was plenty of time between that and then a train to Durham, for our next adventure. As we weren’t returning to Canterbury for the next few weeks, we condensed our baggage into two backpacks and a small suitcase. That would have to do! Although these seemed arduous, we were to feel extremely virtuous as we saw many people lugging far more baggage than us around.

Slava Ukraini! Nga mihi nui.