Beziers on the Canal du Midi

Day 2

Testing out Marie's bike with kid seat .

The boys get a tour of the yard from the landlord, husband of Sabine. His Southern accent is so strong, it's even harder to understand. Eg he says vang for vent, which they normally say like vaw.

The locks allow boats to climb the canal.

The ride to the canal is lovely. Beziers and its grand cathedral on a hill slowly turn sideways. We arrive where there are about 5 locks for the boats to climb a hill. The boys are excited to watch the boats go through the locks. We chat to a family from Russia. Their daughter speaks English. They've been on their boat for 4 days and seem to have the canal climbing and rope mooring going well. The Mum climbs the stairs alongside, the daughter throws the ropes and the dad sits around steering the boat.

A huge amount of water flows.

Lunch stop.

Followed by a fruit stop.

About 6 k's from home, Ollie, who's on a single speed and going well,  complains. Stopping for lunch, everyone says bonne appétit (Googled that) as they pass. You don't get 5 minutes of peace, there are so many bikes. After lunch Ollie falls over, and won't continue, so we turn back home, amid lots of complaints from him. Louis calls out bonne appétit to a bunch of black leather clad bikers who all spin around and sing a cheery Merci! After a 20 minute stop and some fruit, Ollie finds his power to race home.

The canal is an easy 200+km ride.

We relax for a bit, then drive into town. The boys fall asleep. Beziers is beautiful. The place is full of new French, and places are for sale everywhere. Outside the centre they're putting up little estates and a shopping centre, while the gorgeous centre suffocates. What's wrong with people??

Places are going cheap in Beziers.

5 day weekend

Ollie and Marie at home earlier that morning.

I can't remember why, but last Wednesday and Thursday were public holidays. Friday they closed the factory, so it was a compulsory 5 day weekend. We stayed in Béziers  and visited Carcassonne, the Canal du Midi and the area.

Day 1: snuck out of work at 3.15, got home, tried to pack quickly, including getting the bikes on the bike rack, then pick up the kids from school. I didn't do a great job, so each hour we stop to straighten the bikes up a bit.

No herbicides, or any chemicals at this farm. Nice for the kids.

After 5 odd hours (Google says 3.5) due to traffic, we meet the landlady in the dark on a deserted road, just outside Béziers.

Marie's beautiful new Motorbecane and Louis's green Puky.

The farmhouse is beautiful, built smack on the road, with a tall, long side wall. When we open the shutters on the window in the bedroom, it opens into the laneway. Start sleep at 11.30, v. tired. We squish 10 supersize mosquito looking insects that are slow, fragile and so gay. Every time we try to work out the front door and it's lock, 3 more fly in.

Rolling into home for the weekend in Béziers.

Greenhouses with tomatos and big spinach.

Base Nature

Ollie races Romain on the air strip.

May is starting to warm up a bit. 

Base Nature near Frejus is a converted Navy military base, complete with a runway for airplanes that's a good k long. Later in the afternoon, the boys went for a swim and built sand castles. Big thumbs up.

Louis tries to decipher the  menu

Catania

Anna Marie keeps composed in the middle.

Day 11: starts with the 7am boat on wings to Milazzo, followed by the 9.45 bus to Messina, which was waiting a few more minutes for the passengers off the boat. I'm glad I didn't know that, or I'd have been panicking, instead of casually strolling on last. There's an hour before the 12.20 Catania train, which is packed. Luckily the boys love it all. So the 7 hours travel with all our luggage went well, except Ollie puked on the boat while Louis slept. Marie had a bag ready, as the seas were rough, and they'd been staring down at the seat, while playing with their train track. They carry a bag of toys each. This helps a lot when sitting around waiting. Otherwise a full days travel would be not much fun.

Catania is a bit dodgy but nice, apart from around the train station.

Ollie gets blown away by the noise

Day 12: we walk around, catch a tourist train for kids - couldn't really hear a thing over the rattling, played in the park, had a sensational lunch, shopped a bit.

After too much transport, a tram ride is still so so good.

Etna is close and smoking. Apparently Catania's been completely wiped out a 7 times by eruptions, and also from earthquakes. Most dogs answer to the name "Lucky".

Some little shopping centre in the town centre.

Day 13: we fly early. We're a bit sick of getting up early every odd day. The plane goes ok. From Bergamo,  we drive into Milan, as it's some holiday, so they tell us there'll be no traffico (Italian for traffic - see you're getting it already).

Tyre kickers welcome in the Mercedes shop.

Milan's cathedral is amazing, but outside, I'm tired of dodgy people trying to hussle us for a euro. We stop for a coffee, and couple of snacks, and get hussled for 55 euro instead. The tram is a gorgeous old historic thing with heaps of beatiful woodwork inside.

Day 14: we go to Danilo, Yelena, Josipa and Anna Marie's house for breakfast and lunch. In the afternoon, we have our hearing degraded while watching Anna Marie playing volleyball. Their team is called Vbest, and the others are EasyVolley, so cheering is easy. The drums and the trumpet thing are even more annoying than a whole cup load of vuvuzelas.

Day 15 or thereabouts: is home sweet home.

Stromboli

Day 9: We say goodbye to Tina, Christiana, and Sergio, but can't find Marusca. The boat arrives, and the boys are excited to be once again on the boat that jumps up out of the water, aka a hydrofoil.

Stromboli at night (from Geology.com)

On arriving, after dropping off our things, we try to hike up the mountain, in the soft volcanic rich black soil. After being overtaken by a couple of guided tour groups, Marie is embarrassed, and wants to go back down before we're reported for taking children unguided up a volcano. Louis went click, click with his postcard, photographing everything, just like papa, but we didn't get close to seeing the molten lava fly. After being Robin, he wants to be now known as Brocoli Moo Cow.

During dinner though, we 4 big orange flashes and 2 to 3 times, the red hot rocks flew up high. The boys make friends with Mateo, who invited them in for his mum's birthday cake. Her hubby is a volcanologist from Palermo. Watching the volcano is like watching the cricket, but without the action replay after you missed the action. Nothing much happens for a good while between events.

Day 10: we decide to stay one more day to try to see the volcano. We walk around the whitewashed homes. The boys play on the black sand beach. We go home to sleep.

In the afternoon, we climb to about 400m by 7.30 at night. The volcano is about 700m, and if you have a guide, you can go to 900m and look down on it. We have a clear view from below. When it blows properly, it covers it's entire peak in bright orange. The rocks bounce down the scree slope and splash into the sea. It'd be interesting to see a fresh ocean quenched rock. The smaller lava fountain gushes like a candle fire cracker, which is exciting, until you realise the main one is a lot lot bigger.

We freeze our arses off to have dinner in the wind at about 200m, with clear views up to the volcano. We get to see it erupt a few more times. The waiter pokes her head out the door at odd times to see if we're ok, but doesn't want to come out.

Santa Marina, Salina

The wharf at Milazzo

Day 6: is a disaster. I miss a turn, then there's a closed road, and the GPS stays on 1 hour 10 to go for a good hour. Getting anywhere here seems to be chancy, and I starting to dislike the crumbled run down corrupt feel. We decide to just go on the freeway and get there. Louis vomits after 2 plus hours of driving, so we clean up, and head for the nearest town on the map. After going through a few more, we find one with a cafe (Milo?) that has sandwiches in the bain marie, and some junkie in the street hassling us for a euro. The church is gorgeous, made from black volcanic rock. The kids play in the volcanic black sand that's all over the streets, sending dust into our faces and camera. We give up and shoot straight for Milazzo on the autostrada.

The boys are excited by the pointy hydrofoil, that sits up on its wings. Arriving in Santa Marina, Salina, I ask the girl in the shop under my great aunts former home, if the address is no. 123. She says yes, so I say my aunts used to live above. She asks what name. I say Righetti. She says that was her grandmother. Every time I meet direct relatives is an experience.

When I return, Tina, my 1st cousin once removed is also there, and hasn't changed much in the last 16 years, except her husband Liberatore died 12 years ago. My two great aunts Ida & Nunziatina have died, as have cousin Pippo, and Antonio La Rosa, husband of Marusca.

Day 7: Tina takes us for a walk along the water. We have lunch and a sleep. We walk the main street, then go have dinner. That's it.

Day 8: Seeing Christiana in the street (there's only 2 real ones, so chances are high), we end up at her place, with her sister Manuela and Manuela's son Gaetano, and her mum Lydia.

Unsure if we were invited, we hover around Marusca's place. I'm not sure if it's her place either. But we ring on the bell, the door opens, and it seems we were expected but not certainly. Anyway, it's a dream of interesting angles, thick heavy walls and round arches, with unlimited views across to the island of Lipari. Sergio, son of Julia (sister of Marusca and Tina), joins us for lunch, and entertains Ollie.

You know you're in your family's village when every time you walk along main street, Louis says 'can we go to Tina's place?' when we pass it.

Caltagirone

Day 4: up at 4.45am for the taxi to the boat. The boys wake up in the taxi and are excited. It's a big boat, and we play lego on the table between our 4 chairs.

Pozzallo is a tiny port town. The decrepit semi abandoned train station has a rusted vandalised ticket machine and weeds grow between the tracks. Across the road is some empty brewery with the roof caved in.

The train is on time. The guard asks where our tickets are, and does not seem happy with our answer. At Modica, the guard indicates, and I jump off to get some tickets, easy. The views are fantastic in these hills. Ragusa is a spectacular setting up on a hill. But it's far from the station, with kids and heavy bags at least. Luckily Europcar lets us leave our bags in the car we'll pick up later. In  Ragusa we wonder why the fuss about it. I think we missed something.

Arriving in Caltagirone at night, this place is awesomely Sicilian with it's super dark narrow streets. We get lost, driving past the top at the bottom of the famous staircase. The B&B is up 6 flights of stairs, in a sensational location, with a sensational view over town.

Day 5: breakfast in on the roof. We can clearly see Mount Etna puffing, 100k's away. All the rooftops are old style tiles. There are at least 4 to 5 bell towers, 3 ringing.

We drive to Piazza Armerina, which is a ghost town waiting to be eaten by weeds. Nearby, Villa Romana was a hunting lodge for a roman emperor. It's a 40 rooms are palacial. There are amazing mosaics in every room, colourfully painted walls and one piece marble columns, with the curly Greek tops. The slope of the floors and the drains show that several of the rooms were heated pools/spas. It must have been just amazing when new.

Next random destination: Malta

Malta is jammed full with tourists by the plane and boatload, for good reason. There's big fortresses, interesting churches, everyone speaks English. It was a British colony, and so they drive on the left.

Cagnes sur Mer: Marie dropped off some friends at the airport at 5am, but she is a super. The rest of us get up and start driving by 8.30am.

Bergamo: is the first stop. It's a nice little town, but due to the economy, it seems a bit quiet, with a couple of people wandering around asking for spare change. We drop the car at a completely dodgy car parking space, and get a shuttle to the airport.

Malta: our boys are going to be shocked by some things, but not by all the different languages. Maltese is a semitic language, and really different. The taxi driver is insane with his driving. They could save millions by just driving normally, especially when it's only 20 clicks or so across the whole island. Our place, in Sliema, is a beautiful sandstone terrace, like one in Balmain, below street level, but with a courtyard at the back letting in heaps of light.

Day 1: we know nothing. As we wander the street, we see the owner of our place, and he suggests we go on the ferry. We arrive in the fortress city of Valetta. It's an awesome sight, with the highest heaviest stone walls ever. The view from the garden at the top over the main harbour is just awesome. There are the old forts protecting the older towns. They claim the stones in the sea near here could be the lost city of Atlantis. The existing city could pass for it too.

After shouting at the boys for a bit, we catch the ferry back, and bus it to St Julians. This is the Hong Kong truly tourist infested part of town. The modern high rise has killed the charm of the place. The backstreets away from the water still have the original homes, which are all beautiful.

Day 2: is a bus marathon on the all day get on get off tourist bus. The boys hold up well. We start at a 2500 year old UNESCO protected temple with a wooden platform surrounding it. The boys run at least 5 laps after being cooped up. Then we wander the streets of Vittoriosa, and its waterfront. There's not much at Zeitjun or the Blue Grotto. After dinner, we walk up the street to see the local church, and walk back along the water.

Some words:
police - pulicija
thanks - grazi
Musew Maritimu

Day 3: Mdina is the ancient capital, high on a hill overlooking the rest of the island. It's all in limestone with winding tiny streets and large gated walls surrounding it. The torture prison is too gory. We get trapped into seeing a film, then some wax people. The best part of the day for the boys is bouncing a little rubber ball in the street.

Our bikes got nicked

These things look incredibly strong

It was a perfect Friday. Any day you don't have to work is perfect. Then we rode into Nice side by side on the bike path, in the sunshine, chatting. We spent the day wandering around the shops, and then having some lunch. At 3.30 odd, we got to the bike parking, but where were our bikes? Hmm, couldn't see them anywhere, and then Marie saw our two anti theft cables lying in the gutter. That's when we realised that both our bikes aren't coming back with us. Some time during the day between 10am and 3.30pm, some a.hole took them away. They were probably happier with Marie's bike, and wouldn't know that mine's worth 3 times as much. I bet they sold them for fifty each, or less.

The tiniest bit of steel in the middle, about 5 tiny strands

Reporting to the police is easy. You fill in a form online, then they ring you to make an appointment. They give you a couple of copies to sign, one to keep, and let you know that it happens a lot, and no, they don't find stolen ones much. The thieves respray the frame, and swap the parts around, making them unrecognisable.

Apparently it's about 100 bucks odd to get GPS tracking installed. I think it's cheaper just to buy a crappy bike.

I miss my Surly! And the all day rides.

The new all terrain beast is just not the same.

Medieval festival at Biot

The whole village of Biot was transformed into the middle ages with knights, priests and even a parade of lepers, who cheerfully chatted with the tourists and onlookers. Our boys were too scared to have their photo taken with these people. The medival games were a hit though.

Time to convert religion, or raise a big army.

Holy warriors.

Junior Knights.

I tell ya folks, it's harder than it looks, it's a long way to the top

Dolceaqua

Dolceaqua

We had a long weekend. Ollie had a birthday party and after that, we drove an hour roughly. The boys love running around these towns. You don't have to worry about cars there.

At the end of the trip, Louis gave his opinion on it all a few times: Italian means nothing!

Apricale

Apricale

Louis by Louis.

Starting 2013

Louis at the park in our street

Me, Sylvie, Jean Louis and Marie

The park near the town centre of Cagnes sur Mer

Just over the border for a day trip

Same day, different view. Perinaldo, not sure?

Merry Christmas!

The boys like the snow!

While the kids were in ski school, the oldies relaaaaaaaxed.

Louis on the magic carpet in ski school

 The snow is only an hour odd away, and we went up for a week for Christmas. The boys were in ski school every morning, and we just relaxed. It was a real holiday for everyone.
Santa came down on Christmas Eve on a stainless sled towed by a snow mobile. There were a load of skiers and kids holding lit flares leading him down the mountain.
They even had ice skating up there. After parking the car, we didn't touch it for a week.
Accommodation was in the middle of the village and close enough to the lifts. We were all in one room, which was big enough, and it even had a kitchen, nice for home cooked dinners.
The snow got a bit icy towards the end of the week. I planted it only twice, Marie a couple more.
This place was awesome!

And the afternoons were downhilling  on the luge.

Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat

.

We work as a team to keep me and the turtle shiny.

Fun on the beach.

Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat is about 1/2 hours drive along the coast. As per normal, you would have no idea where one part of town starts and the other finishes. It's all one long band of buildings, apartments and a few houses. It's a tiny peninsula, one of the nicest in the region.

I got these, could you?

I could get used to living in this house.

Jumping the chain.

Me and my bro.

This is my square!