Days 1-3: Istanbul

I must first apologise for the length of the following posts for our trip from Turkey...I kept a detailed journal for most of the trip, wanting to be able to remember everything. And now, everyone can remember everything. It also means I have no time to include photos but in any case, we have over 500 with which to bore everyone to tears when we are back in Oz.

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We had an early start (4.15am taxi to the airport) and an uneventful flight to Amsterdam, and then another one to Istanbul. There were some lovely views over the Alps as we passed Salzberg, no singing nuns to be seen unfortunately. We had a long wait at customs; there were lots of people who had walked straight past the office with VISA written out the front, and a list of nationalities that needed one, and then had to back-track which added to our time. But our luggage arrived safely and we easily met our driver. Ever since I’ve been flying, I have wanted to come out into the arrivals hall and see my name on a little sign, and this time it happened, except it wasn’t my name exactly. We were being driven to our hotel with another lady on our tour, who was from Glasgow. The driver took our bags and hurried us out of the airport to a van, well two vans parked next to each other. One was plain white and the other was orange with NAKED TOUR painted on the side. Luckily we got into the plain white van and were hurtled into the city. The first things I noticed were all the trees and public spaces, especially children’s playgrounds, and lots of Turkish flags flying from windows and balconies on apartment buildings that looked rather poor and run-down. There were groups of men working in parks and flower beds; the whole city I found has a sense of urgency about it, everyone is doing something. The streets around our hotel, which was located just behind the Blue Mosque in Sultanahmet, were crazy, very narrow cobbled stones streets with steep hills, and lots of tourists and honking of horns. There were shops selling hats and rugs and jewellery, with men standing outside smoking and yelling at each other. Around our hotel, there were a lot of crumbling stone walls and wooden buildings that had seen better days; the one on the corner up the hill was missing a top floor. It looked like a fire had destroyed it. Across the street was a building that looked derelict and abandoned, but later we noticed washing hanging from the line so I suppose someone must have lived there. It was a strange place; the whole street felt like one big flammable accident waiting to happen.

The hotel was lovely except they had lost Di’s booking; she ended up being put in what we assumed was the spare room, in the basement by the breakfast area. Better than nothing I suppose. After we settled in we went out in hunt of an ATM and some food, once we realised the driver had hurried us so much in the airport we hadn’t had a chance to stock up on lira. It was a long walk to find an ATM and when we finally did we were so hungry we went to the first café we found, which had a bain marie in the front window full of decent looking food. The man ushered us in and told us to tell the other man what we wanted piled on our plate; we had a bad feeling this would come back to haunt us and it did. The food was very edible although nothing special, but when the bill came we were horrified to discover we had just spent 60 lira on 3 plates of food and some water. Ouch. We walked around a bit more; the area around the Blue Mosque was incredibly crowded and I couldn’t understand where so many people had come from. There were a lot of Aussies who I assume had come up from Gallipoli as it was the day after Anzac Day; I am sad to say they weren’t exactly doing us proud, although there was nothing particularly wrong with their behaviour. After our wonder we went back to the hotel for a rest and then went for another walk down along the waterfront, although it started to rain and I had a general sense of uneasiness, probably to do with the crumbling shells of buildings and piles of rubbish being picked over by feral cats. On our way back to the streets near the hotel we stumbled onto a small bazaar where there were still some shops open, so we had a look at rugs and jewellery and pretty things before sitting down for dinner at a café where the waiter had earlier tried to point us in the direction of the ATMs (not his fault we got lost). Toby had a mixed kebab (Turkish version of a mixed grill) and Di and I both had a delicious lentil and mint soup since we were still full from our late lunch. We got some bread (you always get bread in Turkey) and also some free hummus, which ended up being the only hummus we ate the whole time, but it was chunky and garlicky and very tasty. The whole meal cost us half as much as our lunch had, and I ended the day feeling clean and well-fed and less overwhelmed than before.

I had a restless sleep that night; there was a lot of street noise and the hotel only provided one small, thin blanket between the two of us. And of course there was our introduction to the early morning prayer call from the Blue Mosque about 50 metres away, which you never quite got used to. We had breakfast at the hotel, which had a small selection of Western items (cereal, boiled eggs, bread to toast) as well as Turkish (sliced tomato, cucumber, olives and cheese) and then went for a walk through the Blue Mosque courtyard and then up the main road to the Grand Bazaar (which was closed, being Sunday) and then down the hill again to the water. On our way down to the water we passed a baklava and Turkish delight shop and stopped to look from the outside. As usual, a man from inside came out to tempt us with all his salesman flair; he tried to convince Toby that the two of us were having an affair and Toby had now caught us out. He asked us our names and Di said, ‘Well what’s your name?’ to which he replied, ‘I am Mr Delicious.’ We did buy some of his baklava (just two pieces, not a kilo which is how they are priced) and it was delicious, very flaky and fresh, and every time we passed his shop we would say there’s Mr Delicious. He was one of the less intimidating shop owners we came across; I never quite got used to being yelled at by strangers in the street who wanted me to look at their rugs/jewellery/baklava/spices/scarves. They always ask where you are from, and when Di said ‘Australia’ to one, he then asked if we were from Wagga Wagga. We burst out laughing; he tried to tell us why Wagga is famous in Turkey but none of us were paying any attention as we were just trying to run away. For lunch we went to a restaurant behind the hotel which was mentioned in the Lonely Planet; I ordered a bean soup which ended up being just a runny version of baked beans, which I guess is where the idea for baked beans came from. The bread in that place was like the Turkish bread we are used to in Australia, but without the doughy middle; just the crisp seed-covered outside. Yummy.

At 1pm that afternoon we met our tour group for the first time, in the breakfast room at our hotel. Our leader’s name was Jen, a young woman from Australia, Condobolin to be exact. There were 12 of us, 3 couples and 6 single women. All the couples were Australian and 3 of the single women were too; the other 3 were English, Scottish and American. I was almost certainly the youngest of the group. We had to fill in lots of forms with our insurance and next of kin details and medical information and then Jen sat down and talked to us for a while about her experience working in Turkey and things to know about the country, practical things like drinking water, squat toilets, avoiding shopkeepers, and the price of beer. After the meeting Jen walked us to Aya Sofya, the big mosque across the road from the Blue Mosque although it no longer operates as such and has been a museum since the 1930s. From the outside Aya Sofya is not as beautiful as the Blue Mosque; it is somewhat lopsided and the colours aren’t as nice. But inside it was an immense and impressive space, despite the (permanent) scaffolding holding up the ceiling and the huge crowds. It took my breath away. The number of people and the fact it hasn’t been a place of worship for so long meant it didn’t really have the peaceful feeling I normally feel in those places, but still it was a fantastic place to wander, especially upstairs where they had found frescoes beneath the wall paint (the Muslims had just painted over the earlier Christian paintings). They were really incredible.

We met up with the group outside the main gate, and bought some of the doughy pretzel-type things called simits (although we didn’t know that at the time). Jen took us on a walk through some narrow back streets to show us some other parts of Istanbul tourists normally miss, to visit Kocuk Aya Sofya (I think that means ‘small’ as it was based on the original) which she said was her favourite mosque in Istanbul. Once inside I could definitely see why; it was an incredibly clean, serene space. Toby put it well when he said it felt holy. It was all done in blue and white, and full of natural light. Having a scarf over my hair and no shoes on added to that hushed, awed feeling I felt there. It was lovely and I felt rejuvenated from the crowds and grot we’d been around in other parts of Istanbul. After the mosque we went to a local café which was just how would picture a Turkish café, as it was all dark and full of wooden tables with nargile and backgammon on them, and carpets hanging on the walls. It was rather cavernous but opened out in the back to a wonderful 180-degree view of the Sea of Marmara. The whole back of the café was open, which made the sweet-smelling nargile smoke easier to bear. We sat in a little private area and had hot drinks, and then Jen put us all on a tram to visit another mosque, Rustem Pasa. This one was entered via a stone staircase in a courtyard, which would have made it easy to miss if we weren’t with someone who knew the way. The Rustem is famous for its mosaic tiles, which were beautifully intricate, but it still didn’t have the same serenity as Kocuk Aya Sofya. Like in Japan with their temples, I can see that you would easily overdoes on mosques so it was good we only had one more to do.

After the Rustem Jen took us for dinner at a local kebab place where we ate cheap kebabs and bread (again) and then we walked back to our hotel via Mr Delicious, who waved at us through his shop window. Not sure if he actually remembered us, but it’s his job to be friendly.

Our final day in Istanbul started with a visit to the Blue Mosque, where my experience was ruined by the number of women without scarves and the number of people wearing shorts. It seemed so thoughtless and disrespectful. It was not hard to follow the mosque’s requests for appropriate clothing; they even had head scarves for women to borrow. I was particularly annoyed by three young guys wearing boardies (I assume they were Australian, shame on them) and an entire tour group of Japanese ladies without head scarves, which bothered me because of the rules they have in Japan for entering temples. It made me understand why so many mosques don’t open to tourists. The building itself was beautiful though. There was a women’s section at the back; during her morning talk about Islam Jen had told us that was because men couldn’t be trusted to not get distracted by women bending over during prayers, but why they felt the need for an actual wooden partition so women can’t see, I’m not sure.

After the Blue Mosque we went to the Grand Bazaar, via a cemetery full of relatively important people where Jen talked a bit about Muslim funeral customs. Some of us agreed that the lack of autopsies was probably a positive thing; you accept that the death was God’s will, and move on. No dwelling on the why or the how, which often seems such a devastating aspect to grief. The Grand Bazaar was mercifully uncrowded. We only did one corridor; Jen set us loose at one end and said she would see us at the other end in 10 minutes. There are apparently over 4000 shops spread across the maze so we planned to go back another time. There were lots of men standing outside their shops, yelling at customers and each other. I saw one well-dressed guy filing his nails as he leaned against his shop window. The men in Istanbul were quite fashionable and there is a lot of guy love (kissing of cheeks, linking of arms), although at first I kept thinking I was seeing a lot of open gay couples. Interesting.

From the Bazaar we walked down to Topkapi Palace, where it took ages to get in through security. Our first stop was the harem (which means ‘private’ or ‘forbidden’ and only refers to the area where the family lived away from prying eyes; it has less to do with multitudes of naked women peeling grapes), which blew me away. I think partly I was amazed because it was gorgeous, and partly because you got a sense of what it would be like to live there. After the harem we needed some lunch; there was only one place to eat at the Palace and although the view over the water was lovely the food was exceedingly ordinary and outrageously overpriced. There was also a 15 minute wait for the ladies’ toilet. We saw a couple more rooms of the Palace (which was really a group of buildings scattered through several courtyards and gardens), including a ‘treasures’ section full of stuff supposedly belonging to prophets (like Abraham’s turban, David’s sword, Moses’ stick, Mohammed’s tooth) but it was so unbearably crowded I had to skip most of it. I was feeling overwhelmed by the amount of stuff and number of people. There are only so many intricate mosaics and beautiful rooms you can look at before it all starts feeling repetitive. The three of us agreed we’d had enough of the Palace, so Di went to spend the afternoon with a couple of other ladies from the tour group while Toby and I visited the Basilica Cistern.

The Cistern was amazing, and I imagine it’s one of the most unique things I will ever see. It is essentially an ancient water storage facility, and I’m sure the 6th century bureaucrats and engineers and workmen who put it together would be flummoxed by the idea of tourists paying to go and see it, but it really is brilliant. Horror movie material. They have coloured lights playing in the water and music on, so they have worked hard to make it as interesting as possible. After the Cistern we headed back to the hotel via a mini market that was the miniest market ever: no bread, no fruit, nothing. Not sure what the point of the market was, although they did sell flour to make bread. We bought water and half a dozen muesli bars to stock up for the train trip, and then went to Starbucks so Toby could have internet time and I could have journal time in a smoke-free environment. (Yes, we go to Starbucks when we are in foreign countries; but sometimes all you want is a cup of tea, minus the cigarette smoke. So shoot us.) We went to the spice bazaar once we were feeling refreshed, although the rain and number of people just got on my nerves so it wasn’t the best experience. I did love the neat pyramids of powdered spices, and the hanging herbs and blocks of Turkish delight with pistachios embedded in them. We didn’t try anything as we didn’t want the pressure to buy, but it was an interesting thing to see.

We had an early dinner at the same kebab place Jen had taken us to the night before, since we were in the area and knew it was cheap and edible. Back at the hotel, the group re-joined and we were loaded into a mini van and driven across the bridge to the ferry terminal. It took about 20 minutes for the ferry to get to the train station, which I spent not thinking about all the ferry disasters in Turkey you hear on the news. It was a nice way to see the lights of Istanbul though. We had a long wait at the train station, but I guess when you are transporting 12 people you need to make allowances in case something comes up. We had a good local beer in the restaurant at the station while we were waiting, and learnt how to say ‘cheers’. All our luggage was piled along a wall and at one point a homeless lady came over and started pulling out the bags that were in a particular corner so she could set up her bed for the night. She had a careful routine for getting ready, including putting her scarf on. Although Istanbul clearly had plenty of poor people, it was the first sign I’d seen of actual homelessness; everyone else on the street was always busy and working, trying to sell something even if it was only to stand on their scales and pay for the privilege.

The train was quite nice and new; our cabin had 2 bunk beds and a wash basin, plus a fridge with free chocolate. Mmmm. We spent the first hour of the trip in the dining car, drinking beer and playing magnetic Scrabble with a couple of our fellow Aussies (I won), before retiring to our cabin. I didn’t sleep well and wished I brought ear also didn’t sleep well but he put it down to the cigarette smoke coming through the vents in the ceiling onto his face. Yuck. We ended up sharing a single bunk, and amazingly we both slept better after that.

Spring has sprung (sort of)

We are now facing our final few days of living in Edinburgh. It seems incredible that we are nearly at the end; time has gone so fast and of course we are filled with thoughts of what we need to do before we leave. Toby has finished up at Scottish Gas; he is enjoying two weeks of currency trading, going to the gym, planning our next adventure, and being a house husband. I have two more days of work to go at the NHS. The job has not gotten any more interesting or challenging, but I do feel that I have made a couple of good friends and had the opportunity to see how the public sector works here. Well, part of the public sector.

The last few weeks have been quite busy. We had a lovely, quiet Easter weekend with lots of hot cross buns and time at home. On Easter Sunday we went to the zoo with a couple of Toby’s workmates. It was cold and windy but otherwise a great day. The zoo is set up high on a hill not far from our place. They have a great penguin enclosure (which is what they’re famous for) and also a daily ‘penguin parade’ which turned out to be nothing more than a few penguins walking on the footpath while people took photos. I kept expecting them to burst into song and dance, like on ‘Happy Feet’, but it didn’t happen. The brochure said it was ‘voluntary’. I am not sure how they go about getting agreement from penguins but perhaps they have developed some kind of flipper signal language. Compared to the penguins, we were disappointed with the space given to their big cats which seemed sadly lacking, with the panther being given the same amount of room as a badger. They also have the only koalas in the UK so Toby and I got to sniff some eucalyptus leaves which made us a little homesick.

The non Happy Feet penguin parade.

This lioness was roaring her heart out at us. Poor thing.

On Easter Monday we got the bus out to the airport to meet mum and dad, who arrived from London in the afternoon. It was great to see them and we took them home for a roast lamb dinner which promptly put them to sleep.

Toby went back to work the next day but I had two days off so I took mum and dad up to the Royal Mile and we did a walking tour by the same company we’d gone with in Berlin. It was the first tour I’d done in Edinburgh so it was good to hear some new stories and learn about the significance of all these buildings I’d seen so many times. We stopped in the Grassmarket for lunch and decided to go with the tour’s lunch ‘deal’ at a pub which was too small (the food that is, not the pub). Dad had to buy a bowl of chips to fill up, and then because we ran out of time had to load them all into a napkin to re-join the tour. When the tour finished I took them to Waterstone’s on Princes St, a lovely old bookstore with a Starbucks, so we replenished ourselves with coffee and cake and then browsed a little. Dad hadn’t had enough walking at this point, so he headed off to climb Arthur’s Seat while Mum and I went home to watch Neighbours with a cup of tea.

On Wednesday Mum and Dad went off to see the castle and I had some time at home and then met them in the carpark for lunch. Dad had made sandwiches so we sat under a statue and ate them in the cold, then went and found somewhere warm for a cup of tea and yes, more cake. Afterwards we visited the Writer’s Museum, which I’d been saving to visit with Dad, and then Gladstone’s Land, one of the oldest buildings on the Royal Mile which has been furnished to resemble different periods in Edinburgh’s history. My favourite room was the kitchen, which seemed very cosy and practical except for the servant’s bed in the corner. The museum was staffed by old ladies who loved telling stories and were always trying to explain things to you. On the way home we visited some second hand book shops as Dad was keen to find a copy of Scott’s ‘Waverley’. We visited four different shops and had no luck, so Dad finally bought another of Scott’s novels only to then discover ‘Waverley’ on the shelves. Never mind. That night I went to a salsa lesson with my friend Carole and then we came home to eat a dinner cooked by mum; I think my parents were pleased to meet the person who has helped make my stay in Edinburgh so much more enjoyable (not to mention social).

I went back to work on Thursday and Friday, so mum and dad took the opportunity to do some more sightseeing and also take a coach tour up to the Highlands which they raved about. On Saturday morning we took them to the farmer’s market which has become our weekly tradition since it’s the best fresh fish we have found (and the pies are good too). We all ate hog rolls for lunch (they actually had the head of the hog in the stall but I don’t think that’s what we were eating) and bought some things for dinner. Afterwards we split up and I took mum to visit Armstrong’s, the brilliant second-hand shop, so she could point to dresses and things and say ‘I used to have one like that.’ We also tried to find some tartan pants but had no luck; Mum did buy a lovely cashmere turtle neck that was on sale though. We met Dad at the museum a little later to have coffee and cake in the atrium restaurant and then spent a couple of hours wandering through. It was my third visit to the museum and I still don’t think I have seen all of it. On Saturday night they took us out to dinner and we went to Howie's, a (small) chain of Scottish restaurants where we had a delicious meal of what they call 'modern Scottish' food. It was one of the best meals we've had in Edinburgh so it was a good choice.

Me, Toby & Mum under the castle.

Sunday was their last day with us, so we went to Camera Obscura which is a kind of lens that gives you a view of Edinburgh from very high. It was a cloudy, rainy day but we were reassured that there is no perfect day to visit. In the same building was a collection of visual sciency type things, a lot like what you can find in Questacon. We finished our outing with burgers and then headed home, the rainy weather having convinced us a visit to Queensferry was not ideal. Later on, Toby and I took dad to the gym and then Toby cooked up some fresh salmon we’d bought at the markets.

Looking down the Royal Mile from the top of Camera Obscura.

Mum and Dad left on the Monday morning to pick up a car and start making their way down to Wales to get the ferry to Ireland. It was sad to see them go; the week had gone very quickly although there was never going to be enough time. We had another couple of quiet weeks at home, with farewell parties and some last minute sight seeing. My friend Carole and I spent a Friday night on the literary pub tour, where we were taken around to some local historical pubs by two actors who were keen for us to understand the dichotomous nature of Edinburgh and its literature. It was a good night and we met a lovely couple from LA and ended up having some drinks with them once the tour ended. They lived around the corner from Kevin Federline and had become mates with the paparazzi who are always on the lookout for Britney Spears, so they had some funny stories and asked us lots about Edinburgh as they had only been living here a week.

Now we are playing hosts to Toby’s mum Di who is here for a week before we head off to Turkey on Saturday. Although the weather has been rather unpredictable (sometimes it feels nice and summery, others it is just as windy and cold as we have come to expect), the flowers are out and there are daffodils everywhere, which is lovely. The Princes St Gardens are looking particularly gorgeous, and with the evenings getting longer it is feeling much more bearable to be outside. Over the past weekend we even managed to climb Arthur’s Seat, a difficult but short walk. At the top you could barely hear what the other was saying, it was so windy but the views were fantastic and we felt very local and adventurous. Afterwards we rewarded ourselves with hog rolls and ostrich burgers from the farmers’ market for the last time.

The castle, from the top of Arthur's Seat.

We are going to be on the road a lot for the next couple of months so I am not sure how many more updates I will manage. But for those who are interested, the basic timeline is thus:

2 weeks: Turkey
2 days: Edinburgh
10 days: Camping around Scotland & England
1 month: Camping around Western Europe
2 weeks: Singapore/Malaysia/Thailand
And then home.

I feel exhausted just looking at it. But excited too. We have a tent, and air mattresses, and a cooking set, so once we are dosed up on anti-malaria drugs we’ll be ready to go.

Tent practise run.

Fun in Prague

For those of you short on time/attention, here is the concise version, by Toby:

Got in earlish Friday and could not sit next to each other on the plane. Got to the hotel and a nice room with a big pole in the middle and no view due to the kitchen. Then found the super market and ate opposite the church. Went back to the hotel and snoozed. Went out that night and walked along the river, found the market square and ate in the restaurant having nice beer, food and I had boar. Saturday lots of walking we went to the amazing church, saw the strange statues, ate our yucky sandwich at the river, went to the Communist museum. Went to the pizza place opposite our hotel got smoked out in the clubs. Sunday back to the markets bought some presents, ate that big fried dough thing, saw the pigs on a spit, chess boards and had a nice walk around. Felt a bit done and went home :)

And for others who like long-winded descriptions and aimless musings, here is the extended version, by Dot:

I have wanted to go to Prague for a long time, ever since my friend Lara sent me an email during her gap year (a good 8 years ago now) saying what a wonderful city it was. So when we were planning a year in the UK, Prague was always at the top of the list of places to visit. I’m glad we finally did, even though in some respects it was a slightly disappointing trip.

We took the day off from work and were looking forward to a sleep-in before our flight, because sometime between booking the trip and checking the flight confirmation on Thursday, I had convinced myself we had a lunchtime flight. In actual fact we’d booked ourselves on a 9.30 am flight. No matter. Check-in at the airport went well although as we were a bit late, we were put on seats across the aisle from each other. Luckily it was a very smooth flight and I didn’t need to hold Toby’s hand once. However, it was a boisterous flight – Prague is firmly on the stag weekend circuit in the UK and we had lots of upbeat people on the plane (some of whom were already drinking at the airport, yuck). I was lucky enough to be seated next to a couple who seemed to be on their first dirty weekend together – first they giggled for about an hour, then they snogged for a good ten minutes before falling asleep. Toby got a chronic cougher/sniffler next to him. I think we were glad to get off the plane.

At the airport we got some money out (Toby had been told by ‘everyone’ that the Czech Republic only uses euros, just for the record, this is totally not true) and then found the desk to buy tickets for the bus. The man was very helpful and told us how to validate them. Sometimes public transport tickets can be tricky to work out, hence why we sometimes just don’t bother. I’d done a bit of research on how to get to the city from the airport so it was easy enough for us to get a bus into the city to connect to the metro for our hotel. The suburbs of Prague reminded me a lot of Berlin, I guess it’s that Communist love of grey square buildings coming through. Luckily when we got off at the metro stop for our hotel we came out (after going up an escalator I thought was unusually long – Toby thought I was being dramatic – but I read later that it’s one of the longest in Europe – more than 2 minutes from top to bottom) into a beautiful square (Namesti Miru), with a massive church in the middle and gorgeous buildings all around us. It was a lovely way to start our trip. I should mention here also that the sun was shining and although it wasn’t exactly warm (we needed our jackets) it was much more pleasant than Edinburgh's neverending wind.

The loooooong escalator. Hello vertigo.

Our hotel was less than 5 minutes walk from the metro (even though it took us a bit longer to find it of course), in a nice residential district called Vinohrady. There were lovely buildings and we could see plenty of restaurants and bars, which pleased us. We were able to check in and then because we were starving, we decided to go to the small shopping complex over the road to find food. There was a swanky looking wine bar/café in the middle of the complex but the menus looked complicated (there was a lot less English in Prague than we expected) so instead we went downstairs and luckily found a supermarket. We stocked up on bread rolls, cheese, ham, fruit and water and took it all back to the park at Namesti Miru. We had a very leisurely, relaxed lunch sitting in the sun watching the people and the pigeons and generally enjoying being outside eating good food, something we hadn’t done for ages. We tried to remember the last time we’d eaten a meal outside. I think it may have been breakfast in Amsterdam, back in September. Gotta love the Scottish weather.

After lunch we went back to the hotel for what was supposed to be a short rest/freshening up but turned into a three hour nap. I guess we were tired. Seemed a waste of a fine afternoon in such a lovely city, but the big bed was just too good to pass up. Around 7 pm we ventured out and took the tram to a stop closer to the river. I’d read that the Charles Bridge was worth a visit at night – less crowded and great views of Prague Castle. So we walked up the river quite a way, but it really wasn’t necessary to go all the way to the particular bridge – you could see the castle from the whole bank anyway. We did go about halfway over the bridge, which is one of the oldest in Europe and has been decorated with some fantastic sculptures over the years. And the castle did look amazing all lit up like that. After admiring the view we headed into the Old Town, in search of dinner. Old Town Square looked great at night as well, if a little ghost town-esque with all the Easter market stalls closed up in the middle. We wandered some of the streets, doing some window shopping and thinking about where to eat and finally found a little place in a courtyard just off the main square. It served Czech food, it had some words in English (but not a menu in eight different languages like some of the giant hotel restaurants we’d passed), it had a couple of empty tables and best of all – a no smoking sign in the window. Brilliant. When we went in, the first thing we noticed was all the dead animal heads on the walls, and the gun above the bar. ‘This is a lovely room of death,’ as Ace Ventura would say. Never mind. Food is food, and nobody in there looked like the sort to actually use a gun on tourists. (Unlike the pathological villains in Hostel 2, which we had (stupidly) watched the weekend before.)

We ordered goulash with dumplings (for me) and a boar kebab with fries (for Toby) and two ‘large’ Czech beers. By ‘large’, they meant ‘bucket’, but the (cute) waiter conveniently forgot to mention this to us. He probably thought it was hilarious that two pale, not-giant people were ordering that size. It’s all part of the fun of travelling, and luckily it was pretty good beer. They also brought us a basket with enough bread for four people, which seemed odd at first but since the food took quite a while to arrive, it went down pretty well. Toby’s boar kebab was actually only one (not two like the menu showed), but he told me it was good (not really enough to share). I loved my goulash which had a nice peppery kick even though the ‘dumplings’ appeared to be more like circular slices of warm, moist bread (I have since discovered that these are what the Czech call dumplings - so I wasn't cheated). It sounds gross, and they weren’t what I was expecting, but they soaked up the goulash well and it was all tasty. I didn’t manage to finish my beer – the waiter pointed to what I had left and told me that was a ‘small’. Oh well. I tried. After that we got the metro back to the hotel and collapsed.

Toby and his bucket of beer.

In the morning we ate breakfast in the hotel, which was a nice change from the usual stale bread and yoghurt we eat while travelling. There wasn’t a huge selection but that’s okay – I kept thinking of the massive buffet room in our hotel in Kuala Lumpur but really, who needs to be faced with that much food in the morning? They had a room set up in the courtyard of the hotel, no windows (luckily, otherwise our room window would look straight into the dining room) but the whole roof was a skylight which made it lovely. I decided I want all my breakfasts in a skylight room from now on. The funny thing that happened was when an American guy came in and obviously knew the two girls sitting behind us. At first I assumed they were friends, later on I realised they had probably just met in the hotel breakfast room previously. The girls were sitting at a table for two – no room for anyone else, clearly. The guy asked if he could sit with them, and they said yes, and then the three of them sort of just stared at the tiny table, the lack of a third chair, and finally the guy said, ‘Actually I will just sit here,’ and took a seat behind them. He continued to talk to them even though they weren’t really that interested and finally they said ‘Okay well we’re finished, bye,’ and left. Funny Americans, trying to be friends with the whole world. At least he owns a passport I suppose.

After breakfast, we picked up some pre-made sandwiches and water from the supermarket and then headed off for the day. First on the list was St Nicholas’s Cathedral, which I’d seen voted as Prague’s number 1 attraction on a random website. On our way we came across a crazy tourist street full of things tourists love (like McDonald’s, and jewellery shops) and also the Kafka museum, which we really only noticed because of the sculpture out the front of two men peeing into a pond. It really was eye-catching and if we’d had more time and/or money we probably would have gone to the museum as well.

I suspect only naked Eastern European women would have done a better job of convincing people to go into this courtyard.

St Nicholas’s certainly didn’t disappoint; you bought your ticket in a little alcove and there was a swinging door so you couldn’t see inside, no knowing what you were actually paying for. But once through the door, it really did take your breath away. The first overwhelming sense I had was of gold and pink. There was a lot of pink marble and a LOT of gold. It really was an incredible church. We spent some time sitting in the (very wooden, very uncomfortable) pews just looking up. Even Toby, who is not keen on intruding upon others’ places of worship, thought this was a brilliant way to start our time in Prague.

The alter in St Nicholas's.

After the church we decided to take advantage of the fine weather and find somewhere to eat our sandwiches. We ended up in a park by the river eating the most disgusting sandwiches ever. I have a love-hate relationship with sandwiches; when I was small I made my parents’ life difficult by complaining about what they were putting in my lunch box every day, and that is how I came to be making my own lunch when I was seven (or so). I have never been keen on sandwiches which have been made by someone else, several hours earlier, without my presence, with ingredients I can’t identify. I am getting better now – I can make reasonably edible sandwiches myself, even hours in advance, and I can eat most pre-packaged ones which is lucky as they are everywhere here. However, these Prague ones were an insult to the humble sandwich. The word ‘Waldorf’ in the title should have clued me in, but how was I to be prepared for a filling that comprised stringy chicken, sour cream, and DICED APPLE? Many of you will know my (recently relaxed but still in place) policy against meat and fruit together. This sandwich confirmed the reasoning behind the policy. It’s just not on.

Toby struggles through his Waldorf sandwich.

With stomachs churning we crossed the Charles Bridge and walked across with all the other tourists; it was very different, full of people and stalls selling caricatures, photos and jewellery. We were glad we’d seen it the night before, empty and kind of creepy, since it takes on a real tackiness during the day. We ended up in Wenceslas Square where we bought ourselves some delicious sweet things. Very hard to describe but basically they make a dough, wrap it around a pole, cook it over a fire, pull it off the pole, then roll it in a cinnamon sugar mixture. What you end up with is like a thin donut that’s crunchy on the outside. Mmm, delicious. How the Czechs aren’t gigantic balls of lard rolling around those quaint cobbled streets I will never know.

Enjoying our nutritious snack. You can actually see a picture of it on the stall behind me.

From the square we found the Communist Museum. It had also been voted as a top attraction, and being that neither of us can claim to know much about Czech or Communist history we figured it would be a decent place to spend some time. The museum was on a floor in a casino building and was rather brief, but the funny posters alone were worth the effort. The interrogation room was also rather scary. I’m not sure I learnt much more about Communism (except how much the museum curators abhor it) but it was an interesting hour or so.

One of the posters tempting you into the museum.

After the museum, we decided to be lazy and get the train back to our hotel, which apparently was within walking distance. We rested up and then got dressed and went out again to try and find a restaurant mentioned in our guide, Bumerang. We have never been to an Australian themed bar anywhere on our travels and (for some reason) Toby decided we should. Unfortunately something went amiss in the address vs map war and we couldn’t find it. By this time we were hungry and it seemed silly to try and find somewhere to have a drink when it was really time for dinner, so we went back to the street where our hotel was and got a table at a pizza restaurant over the road which had been mentioned in the guide. It didn’t have a no smoking sign but luckily no one in there was smoking anyway. We ordered drinks – smaller ones this time – and pizza for Toby and gnocchi for me, both of which were plentiful and tasty. And cheap! Less than £10 for the both of us. Bargain.

After dinner we wanted a night cap and decided to try a few places in the immediate vicinity; one turned us off by making it sound more like a brothel, so we went to a tiny little one further down the street. We got Bailey’s and I’m pretty sure we were laughed at due to our odd habit of paying for drinks at the bar, but who cares? Unfortunately it was very smoky so we just drank and left, then we tried another place but the same thing happened. So it was an earlier night than we were prepared for, but a good end to our day.

The next day we had our nice hotel breakfast again and then back to the room to pack up before checking out. We weren’t sure what time we had to leave but figured if breakfast was until 10am then check out would be later. Yes? No. At four minutes past ten the phone rang and it was the snarly receptionist girl saying ‘Yes we ask you to check out now please.’ Um, okay. When we got to the front desk and apologised for our tardiness she acted like it was fine and she didn’t know what we were talking about. Strange. We decided to go and see Prague Castle in the morning, so we got the train to the tram stop and then tried to buy a new ticket. Which didn’t work, because the ticket machines didn’t take notes (even though their currency is all gigantic and you only really used notes) and the people didn’t sell the tickets we wanted. A rather strange system, so we decided to just risk it with the old tickets we had. We got on the tram with about 100000 other people and I wanted to get off at the stop mentioned in the guide book, where you started at the Strahov Monastery and then walked down to the castle complex through a beautiful residential district. I was watching all the signs but then everyone else on the tram got off too early, and I was a sheep and followed them. We got into the castle area but I was annoyed that we’d missed the monastery and nice walk, so we decided to get back on the tram and go further up the hill. It was the first time we’d been on a tram going uphill and it wasn’t pleasant. I don’t think trams like hills. The monastery was lovely, all white walls and beautiful courtyards. And the views were spectacular.

Inside the Strahov Monastery (complete with priest!) I couldn't help thinking that maybe I would be holier if I had somewhere like this to stride through on my way to things...

...and a view like this to wake up to.

We walked down the hill towards the castle but unfortunately missed the entrance and so we had to walk up these steps instead.

Yeah, ouch. The castle complex had a lot of buildings in it but by this point we’d had enough of paying for entrance fees and decided to just appreciate everything from the outside instead.

For lunch we went across the river (yes, the Charles Bridge again) to the markets in Old Town Square, determined to get some fattening fast food. We decided to forgo sausages in a roll (had lots of that in Berlin) and went for the pizza type things we’d seen other people eat. Essentially it’s fried dough, and you can have it with cheese and/or garlic and/or ketchup. I had cheese and garlic, Toby decided to go the whole hog. It was an interesting, greasy experience. I only ate the outside of mine, the middle was kind of cold due to the cold cheese. We also got another one of those donut things, because they were that good.

Toby enjoys his fried dough.

And here is when things start feeling…done. Toby had been fighting a cold all day (he blames the sudden flaring up on the cigarette smoke ingested the night before), so energy levels were not at their best. After time at the castle and surrounding streets, Charles Bridge and Old Town Square, Prague was starting to feel…crowded. Really, really crowded. We sat down on a wall by the clock tower and were soon approached by a lady with missing teeth asking for money. We said no and continued our conversation but she took a while to leave us alone. Things started looking dirty, and poor, and generally icky. We were tired, and out of money, and wanted to be far away from all those people. So we did what you would never think was possible, before you have travelled and you are still in that naïve phase where you think it’s impossible to actually get bored when you are somewhere like Prague: we went to the airport. Way too early.

The flight home was also full of chatty, loud buck’s night groups and it was delayed (which made our early arrival seem even sillier) but we got home in the end, slightly disappointed by our final hours. So for people who want to go to Prague: go during the week, and NOT when the Easter markets/any other festival is on. And make the effort to get away from the crowds. The best times we had were when we were in places that hadn’t been overrun by other people.

Since then things have been fairly quiet on the Edinburgh front. I went out for a Mexican dinner for my friend Carole’s birthday, and on Saturday we went to a fondue party for one of Toby’s workmates. I managed to catch the cold Toby had in Prague so have spent the last week nursing a sore head and wishing they sold butter menthols here. We have discovered the farmer’s markets and enjoyed our first fresh fish in months (yay). We are starting to think more about our Europe ride and also looking forward to visits from parents, starting with mine who arrive on Easter Monday. We won’t be doing much for Easter, but there is a possible trip to the zoo planned and of course I plan to indulge my chocoholism with relish. Toby doesn’t eat chocolate anymore, so I might boil him an egg for the occasion.

An Update of Sorts

It has been a fairly quiet few weeks since our Berlin adventure, hence the complete lack of blog updates. I am still working for the NES, it looks like I could be kept on until April which would suit my timetable perfectly. The work has been a bit hit and miss, but the people are mostly pleasant to be around and it's certainly much more preferable to unemployment. Toby is still at Scottish Gas, he has made some good mates there and continues to win almost every single event of physical ability they have, from arm wrestling at morning tea to laser tag on Saturday afternoons. He is getting slightly anxious that people will stop inviting him to participate but pride dictates that he won't lessen his efforts to let anyone else win. Perhaps this is an Australian male thing, the men here are not quite what we're used to at home. For example, they all drive Barinas and aren't even ashamed of it.

We’ve had a couple of long bike rides, one out to North Berwick and the other to Perth, both about an hour away. After spending the weekdays looking at computer screens and grey buildings, it is always refreshing to get out of the city and see some open space. It's like when you have spent the weekend drinking and eating hangover food, and then by Monday your body is craving a big green salad and lots of water. I think your eyes crave greenery and big sky in the same way, it is so invigorating to get out on the bike and drink it all in.

A wild day on the Scottish coastline.

North Berwick from the headland (which was also a golf course, naturally).

Looking down the Tyne from the railway bridge in Perth.

Looking over the river to the centre of Perth. It's a very lovely town from far away. Up close it is full of Scottish versions of Kath & Kim.

Scone Palace from the carpark...it cost 4 quid just to go through the gate so we took a sneaky photo and left. Fab building though.

I went to two ceilidh (pronounced ‘kayley’) dances with my friend Carole earlier in the year. The first was at a big venue in the city on Burns Night, following a traditional Burns Night supper at a nearby pub. There were lots of people there, most around our age and most with no idea of what they were doing. It was a fun, exhausting night. Although I’d never even seen ceilidh dancing, it turned out to be a lot of the same dances we do in Australia at bush dances. Same idea. The next weekend there was a smaller event on in a school hall, raising money for an environmental group. Carole’s friend Nadia had some work colleagues involved in organising it so we ordered some tickets and after eating dinner with another friend and Nadia’s family at their home (first time I had spoken to any kind of parents in months), off we went. The music at the second dance was much better – they had a drum kit so it sounded more like the Corrs, and the beat made it easier to dance to. It was full of skinny, hairy vegan types – even the wine was organic. There was a really nice atmosphere and it was an all-round more enjoyable night. I’m quite the expert now and looking forward to more.

My Burns Night supper...haggis, neeps and tatties. Chewing unnecessary.

Toby has finally bought himself an Aibo, which he fell in love with when we were in Japan a few years ago. He has always regretted not buying one so when a guy at his work was disappointed with the one he just purchased, it was Toby’s chance. So now we have a robotic dog that sometimes acts very intelligent and dog-like, and sometimes doesn’t make any sense at all. It’s the perfect gadget for Toby, combining his love of dogs, computers, artificial intelligence and robots. It’s certainly not the same as having an actual dog (dear Tiffa we miss you) but it is providing some interesting times in the house.

Aibo playing with his bone.

We have had some dinners out for our 5 year (!) anniversary in January and Valentine’s Day last week, and have also finally gotten to the point of having friends over for dinner. It takes a while to build up to that point, but now we own a Monopoly board we are definitely the place to be. I tried warning Carole that Toby was ruthless and we were helpless against his strategic real estate know-how, but she refused to believe me. The three of us went bankrupt and I’m not sure if they will ever want to play with us again. The next exciting thing is our weekend in Prague in March which will be followed by a visit from my parents after Easter and then finishing up work in late April, after which we will head to Turkey with Toby’s mum for a couple of weeks. As for the weather (something everyone asks about), the days are getting longer which is a relief. The week before last was very mild and the sun was out a lot of the time; very Canberra winter. Moods were a lot lighter that week. This week has been rubbish, the temperature's not too bad but it's been raining on and off and grey and gloomy most the time (I know, what do we expect). Oh, and apparently this is the "windy" time of year. Funny, as Edinburgh is windy almost all the time so we have more of that to look forward to. We sit in our house at night listening to the wind whistling around the building and hoping that the motorbike is still upright in the morning. For a night or two I tried to imagine the sound of the wind was actually the beach, and we were on holiday down the coast and tomorrow we'd go for a swim. But I can't pretend it's anything other than gale-force winds anymore. We are both looking forward to some real sun and warmth on our travels.

The biggest party in Europe - Days 2 and 3

Our second day in Berlin started slowly. I was still feeling under the weather, although there was a definite improvement on the night before. We decided to go for a bit of a walk, first to see the Sony Centre (which we have to do in every city, of course), the Gallery of Contemporary Art and to have a better look at some of the things Maria had pointed out to us the day before. We got the train to save on energy and although it took us a little while to find the Sony Centre, we did eventually, much to our disappointment. It was less a Sony Centre and more a collection of buildings (owned by Sony, I assume) with a courtyard in the middle. There was a Sony shop but it wasn’t really a showroom to display all their technology (like we’d been to in Japan), it really was just a shop. The coolest thing about the Sony Centre ended up being Legoland. Not that we visited it, but there were some interesting sculptures around made entirely out of Lego. There was also an ‘Australian’ café there which had items on the menu like ‘Gold Coast Salad’. We were almost tempted to visit, but not really. The crepes and German sausages were far more irresistible.

Outside Legoland. The people standing next to it give you an idea of how big and impressive this plastic giraffe is.

We went back to the Jewish Memorial to visit the information centre, but it was shut. Then we half-tried to find the Topography of Terror, but failed. Then we really tried to find the Gallery, and completely failed. We went round and round in circles and eventually gave up. I was still not 100% so we admitted defeat and returned to our hotel room, via the supermarket again to pick up some lunch things. I remember a short, restless nap in the hotel and then Jude and Dave arrived to start off our New Year’s Eve. They seemed to think it was hilarious that we were in bed at 3.30 in the afternoon. Although we’d planned to have pink champagne and nibbles, due to illness it turned into some nibbles while Toby and I got ourselves out of bed and ready to hit the town. Jude and Dave had had a more productive day than us, including a visit to the Pergamon Museum and a trip back to the chocolate shop we’d seen the day before – they had been kind enough to buy us a box of chocolates as a thankyou for hosting them over Christmas, and I can say very confidently that the royals chose their chocolatiers very well. They were exquisite. It was extra fun trying them because the box was all in German (of course) and so you couldn’t really figure out what the flavourings were.

A random Berlin bear. These things were everywhere, all done up differently. The strangest one was one we passed on our first day. We referred to it as the Slutty Bear.

When Toby and I were finally ready, we got the train into Potsdamer Platz and headed towards the Brandenburg Gate, via the Sony Centre so we could show Jude and Dave the Lego sculptures and people flying down a ‘snow’ slope in rubber rings (it was hilarious). We had to pass a few guys who were letting off fireworks in the street just near the entrance to the Brandenburg Gate area, but there were lots of signs saying you couldn’t take fireworks into the party so we weren’t too worried. It felt a lot like your average show back home, with lots of food and drink stalls and a big stage in front of the Brandenburg Gate.

The big stage. One of the most annoying things about the night was that it was a 'live broadcast', so we had to listen to (and watch) commercials in between all the songs. Grrr.

Because we spent 6 hours there and the same sort of thing kept happening, I will use dot points to describe our New Year’s Eve.

• We saw the same bands performing over and over again.
• Those bands were not very good.
• We had never heard of any of them, although we’d seen Lemon Ice on MTV that afternoon.
• We didn’t know any of the songs. You would like for a big event like New Year’s Eve, you would want to play party anthems everybody knows. But no.
• We ate half metre bratwursts (well, Dave and I did anyway). Unfortunately they actually folded it in half to fit it into the roll, so it didn’t look as impressive as it should have.
• It was really, really cold.
• There was nowhere to sit.
• Jude and I went to get a cup of tea and they gave us chamomile. Weird.
• Toby bought a big gingerbread shaped like a heart.
• After a while, we were sick of standing around in the cold listening to the same bands and thought we could go elsewhere and return later. But by that time there was a long line to get into the area, so we stayed.
• I had my first experience with a portaloo (I have always been too scared before).
• Unfortunately there was no Kenny to be seen (and it cost me 20 cents).
• It was really, really cold.
• There was nowhere to sit.
• The crowd was very well behaved with very few obnoxious drunks or punk ass pre-pubescents.

At midnight we listened to everyone else count down in German and then got to see the most amazing fireworks I have ever seen. So all that standing around in the cold wishing I could drink alcohol was worth it in the end, even if they chose some odd songs to play with the fireworks (like Timbaland’s ‘Apologise’) which did not improve the party atmosphere.

Toby and his manly gingerbread.

Jude & Dave being all cute and keeping warm.

Once the fireworks were over we joined the hordes of people swarming out of the party down towards Potsdamer Platz, and that was where things got really interesting. It may have been well behaved at the Gate, but the streets were full of drunken yobs letting off fireworks. And not just the little baby fireworks we have at home on the Queen’s birthday, but full-on, should-never-be-let-off-by-a-drunken-amateur fireworks. The streets were full of smoke and broken glass and people trying to get home and other people trying to stop them by exploding things. It felt like a warzone, what with the sirens and smoke and what-not. We couldn’t believe it, coming from such a civilised celebration to what felt like something you would see on TV as an example of poorly considered cultural traditions. We had been planning on avoiding the trains and walking back to our hotels instead but with the streets in that condition we decided we’d be safer on the trains. We skipped the first train and the one we got on a few minutes later was very calm and not at all crowded, so that was a good decision. I think we were all a bit shaken by what we’d just walked through, as we hadn’t been at all prepared for that. The train was where we said goodbye to Jude and Dave, as the next day they were heading off to Frankfurt to fly back to Oz.

When we got off the train near our hotel there were still some groups of punks around letting off more fireworks but we got back to our room without losing any eyes or limbs and got to sleep easily. Needless to say it was a strange way to end New Year’s Eve and I think Garema Place will be looking very tame from now on.

The next morning we slept late and while we were getting ready to leave it started snowing. Properly snowing. We tried not to think about what it would mean if our flight was delayed or cancelled, and instead headed off to see the biggest shopping mall in continental Europe, famous for its 6-floor food court. The plan was to walk around, buy something German, have a nice lunch, and get the train to the airport. Unfortunately our plan was foiled because the mall was closed. We wandered up the road with the rest of the confused tourists and ended up seeing a church, which was partially destroyed in the war and had been left that way as a reminder, similar to the Peace Dome in Hiroshima. Underneath the church were some Christmas markets so we browsed through there for a while and then stopped for another bratwurst for lunch. Even though German sausage has to be one of the best things about visiting Germany, we both agreed that we wouldn’t be eating sausages for a while after this trip.

Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church, partially destroyed.

It was still snowing but we got the train to the airport anyway and amazingly enough our flight wasn’t even delayed. We got into Glasgow around 5pm, and that was when the real fun started.

I knew there was a bus that went from Glasgow to Edinburgh but given the lack of information at the airport about it, we decided an easier and quicker way for us to get home would be to get the bus into Glasgow’s train station, then the train home. All up it should take two hours, we reasoned. We managed to get the bus into Glasgow and were dropped off at Central Station. Which was shut, completely. So we walked the ten minutes to the other train station, on Queen St., in case the trains were only running from there as well. This one was also shut. Things were not looking up. There was a security guard there who helpfully told us there were no trains running, but ‘maybe’ there would be a bus. For some reason, instead of asking where the bus station was, we thanked him and walked away and spent the next half hour or more trying to find the bus station. Our alternatives were not tempting: a taxi ride, which would cost 100 pounds or more, if we managed to find someone to take us, or a hotel room for the night which would probably cost the same, and come morning we’d still be in the same predicament. The bus station, when we eventually found it, was almost deserted and we were not hopeful. By this time it was 7pm and we were hungry and annoyed at the Scots who take their public holidays so very seriously. Luckily there was one more bus leaving for Edinburgh that night, at 8pm, so we bought expensive tickets and then went to a bar next door. Even though we were both still fighting our flu, we couldn’t resist and got a wine and a Guinness, and shared a pizza as well. It was one of those nights.

Toby on the train to Berlin airport. Note the filthy jeans of the man passed out on the seat behind us. I have no idea what he could have done to get so dirty, but it's nice to know that treasured sights like unconscious people riding public transport on New Year's Day can be found anywhere in the world.

I got lucky on the bus and found a seat where someone had left a trashy magazine, so the 90 minute trip flew by for me. Toby was not so lucky. We got into Edinburgh around 9:30pm, and unlike Glasgow, it was hardly a ghost town at all. There was plenty going on, and even better, the local buses were running and we only had to wait a few minutes before one came along to take us home. The fun wasn’t quite over though, and when the bus stopped and no one got off, the driver obviously decided to ignore all other requests to stop and finally dropped us off 4 stops later than we needed. So, finally, about five hours after arriving at an airport 45 minutes away, we were home.

After that beginning, 2008 has proceeded fairly quietly. Toby returned to work on 3 January (the 2nd is also a public holiday here) and I had 3 interviews lined up. The first was for a job I was really keen on, and luckily I got it so I started on 7 January and didn't have to go through any more interviews. I am working in the NHS Education for Scotland, in the psychology assessment team, which is clearly up my alley. I’m an administration assistant for a project they’re working on to look at how psych trainees are assessed during their placements. The people are nice, I finally have internet and email access, and best of all it’s less than 10 minutes’ walk from home. The position is meant to last for a month but the team is hoping they will be able to continue it for a few more months, which would suit me. Our current projects include planning trips to Prague and Turkey, looking forward to visits from parents, and making arrangements for our final holiday before heading home. Until then it’s a matter of coping with the dark, cold weather through lots of movies, trips to the pub, and Wii games. (And yes it is dark - very - and cold - we even had snow last week. Proper snow.)