I’m off to the Netherlands later today, and will be back on Friday evening. So expect some quiet in the meantime, although, if you’re lucky, you might get one of those rambling airport-based posts. I should also be able to connect from my hotel, so there is the prospect of some brief entries.
The reason for my trip this time is to attend the Plantarium trade event in Boskoop. I have three or four meetings lined up, all but one of which I am looking forward to (the one I am not looking forward to involves sorting out some political issues, something that I never enjoy doing), and one of my plants has been entered in the Best New Plant Competition, so fingers crossed for that.
We’ve got a packed weekend in store too. On Saturday morning, we plan to view three properties. In the afternoon, Hels has a medical appointment that she is not looking forward to. On Sunday we shall be with the in-laws-to-be. Monday will involve some time in the office and picking Mum up for Tuesday’s booze-cruise to Calais to get the wines for the wedding reception. Wednesday and Thursday features a trip to a trade show in Cheshire, Friday an overdue haircut, Saturday packing for a week-long trip to Germany and Sunday flying to Hamburg.
Actually, it may be quiet here for some time to come!
In the Netherlands
I will post a lengthy post about my travels here, but not now as connection is costly and slow. Wait until next week, ok?
Meanwhile – Greece – who’d have thought it?
On the road again
Today, I shall be driving with (PFE-supporter and friend) Mike to Rotterdam, via Le Shuttle. We’re undertaking a week-long tour of the Netherlands and Belgium to visit a whole host of plant growers, propagators and breeders’ agents. It’ll be hard work and tiring, but hopefully we will get a little downtime in as well – Mike and I usually try to get to a few decent restaurants on these trips, as well as a sight or two if there is time (recent conquests include Essen cathedral treasury and the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam).
So, expect quiet here this week. I’ll have my laptop with me, so infrequent updates should be possible – just don’t expect much rambling, nor any long-winded airport monologues. Monologuing is hard to do when driving.
En France
Time for one of those overseas blogging monologues. I know how much you all love them (go on! tell me how much you love them!).
I’ve just boarded a train from Angers St Laud to Paris Montparnasse, my first experience of the TGV. The train is reasonably busy, perhaps 75% full, but there is only one stop between here and Paris, at Le Mans. It’s reasonably spacious, and the lack of bulky headrests means that it is easy to peoplewatch – the girl to my right who is trying to sleep whilst wedging her enormous black handbag against the back of the seat in front of her, the bloke to my left who is sitting in the window seat that I reserved (I’m not sufficiently confident in my French to remonstrate with him, and besides, it’s easier to get up for the loo or the buffet from here – and I can still see the world zipping by), the young infant in his carrychair a few seats towards the back of the train who is cuddling his toy rabbit and quietly absorbing the constant stream of information that is the world around him, whilst his twin sleeps soundly in the next seat.
Thankfully I’ve come equipped with my bag of Maynards’ Wine Pastilles and a bottle of Waitrose Still Scottish Natural Mineral Water, as this train is about half a mile long (no exaggeration), and it would probably take me fifteen minutes to walk as far as the buffet/bar. All very English of me.
The train takes corners at very high speed, with the consequence that my laptop slips dangerously from one side of the little table to the other, so excuse any pauses in the narrative as I clutch hold of it to prevent it falling to the floor.
Why am I in France? Well, I’ve been here for two reasons – firstly to visit a famous and very old nursery company near Nantes, and also to attend and lend consultancy and support at a European Union Plant Variety Rights appeal hearing at the Community Plant Varieties Office in Angers. Yes, that last bit does sound exciting, doesn’t it? But, believe me, it was in fact very interesting and useful, even though we lost the appeal (we had only rated our chances of success at around 1-2% prior to the meeting, but reckon that we increased that to 20% by making a very well-argued, substantiated and convincing case during the hearing – we believe we were defeated only by a majority decision of the members of the panel rather than a unanimous one).
The "we" in this journey has been myself and David, who is a septagenarian plant breeder and fervent supporter of PFE (and the appelant), along with his wife Rosemary. As they are now travelling on for a short holiday in the upper Loire valley, I’m travelling back by train, plane and automobile (in the form of a coach) to dear old Blighty and the arms of Hels, who I have been missing like mad.
They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder, but we have been finding these separations (this trip, Hels’s recent trip to Vienna and her forthcoming week at a conference in Florida) to be quite painful, punctuated only by long (and expensive) phone calls telling each other how much we love each other and how much we miss one another. I’ve received the odd complaint of being a bit too soft and soppy in my writings on this site recently, so I won’t go on about it too much. It may just be because our love is still very new and extremely intense and not a little fraught with the worries of trying to sell our homes, find a home together, arrange a wedding and deal with the stresses of everyday life, but it certainly makes us value our time together more than ever. The time when "home" means our home together can not come soon enough.
I’m not sure how fraught this journey will be. According to Le Figaro this morning, Paris promises to be a hellish place today as umpteen gazillion police, soldiers and special forces secure the city for George Dubya’s state visit to mark the sixtieth anniversary of D-Day. I have to get from Montparnasse to Charles de Gaulle airport (assuming it hasn’t fallen down entirely). There is a coach service from Montparnasse, but I wonder if it might be delayed. I had planned to spend a little time exploring the Montparnasse area, having never visited Paris before, but if it appears fraught, I may abandon that idea.
We’re just coming into Le Mans. Interestingly, the conductor, in his announcements, puts the emphasis on the "Le", not the "Mans". Since it appears that nobody wants this seat, I may rummage around and find my headphones for a little audio entertainment between here and Paris. I bought a very cheap (three euro) CD from a second hand store in Nantes which is very good aside from a scratch that makes the first track unplayable (hence the low price, I guess), and I still haven’t had a chance to listen to it all the way through.
Anyway, a few non-work highlights of this trip:
- the splendidly calm ferry crossing from Portsmouth to St Malo, with the moon hanging low in the sky and reflected wonderfully in the glossy water, whilst on the other side of the boat, the Isle of Wight loomed ominously in silhouette with streetlamps draped around its skirt hems and reflected in the water
- the city centre in Nantes, with its cafés and cathedral
- the castle in Angers, home of a fantastic, enormous and very old tapestry depicting the story of the Apocalypse, with amazing detail, particularly in the beasts and the horsemen, with St John looking on from a differently designed sentry box-like structure at the side of each panel, recording the scenes for the Book of Revelations
- Angers cathedral, with its massive organ (stop it!) supported above the main entrance on four huge flying buttresses, each carved to resemble a bacchanalian figure seemingly inappropriate for a place of Christian worship, but imposing and wonderful nonetheless
- the simple and beautiful chruch of Saint Laud in Angers, and much more light and welcoming building, which, when we visited, was being bedecked in flowers for a wedding to be held today
As David and Rosemary were very much in holiday mode on this trip, it allowed me more time than I would normally have for exploring my environs. Normally when I travel abroad for conferences and exhibitions, usually with David’s son Mike (also a plant breeder), there is little time for R&R, as we generally try to pack in as much work value into our time as we possibly can. Whilst I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this trip (in spite of losing the appeal hearing), a little voice at the back of my head says that I really need to get more work done (hey! I could be doing it now instead of writing this monologue, but then I do have to keep you entertained somehow).
Hmm. Time for another wine pastille.
How strange. The guards have just come through the carriage, and they seem to be inspecting all the vents for the air conditioning system, peering into them as if they expect some sort of rat or mouse to poke his head out and say "salut!" at any moment. They’ve left the carriage now, so obviously didn’t find what they were looking for, although the activity has woken up the sleeping twin into a wide-eyed coughing session.
Idle thought: do nationalists in Northern Ireland refuse to use the Orange telephone network on principle?
Idle thought 2: what is it with young oriental men and really bad facial hair?
Idle thought 3: I wonder if there’ll be a powerpoint at CDG where I can recharge my laptop, or is that a uniquely American phenomenon? Even the wonderfully well thought out Copenhagen airport doesn’t have powerpoints.
<long pause whilst transferring from TGV to CDG>
Idle thought 4: if, when in France, you dial 15 for an ambulance, 17 for the police and 18 for the fire service, what happens if you dial 16?
Well, so much for having a stroll around Montparnasse. On arrival at the station, the first thing I noticed was the large number of police and armed troops present. A quick amble about the station revealed that the left luggage lockers were closed and sealed due to the security precautions, so I decided not to bother with trying to go for an amble whilst dragging my wheelie case and carrying my laptop. Instead, I elected to board the bus for the airport directly. As the bus hurtled through the streets, we passed a long row of buses laden with police, plus vans loaded with equipment, and then had to pull over to allow a fleet of water cannon trucks to roar past, sirens on and lights flashing. So I reckon that not going for a stroll was a smart move.
It has to be said that CDG (or terminal 1 at least) is the most dismal airport I have ever been in, even more badly designed than Dallas-Fort Worth. The duty-free area is cramped an ugly. The check-in desks are cramped and ugly. The &satellites" are cramped and ugly. There is a chronic lack of seating, refreshment points, signage, colour, light and air conditioning. Infuriatingly, there is a power point next to the seat I’ve found, but I stupidly left my French/UK adaptor in the bag that I’ve checked-in, so I’ll run out of power in about 20 minutes – with at least two and a half hours to kill before the flight. Worryingly, the bmi flight before mine, to East Midlands, has been delayed until around the time that mine is due to depart due to a fault with the aircraft, and I have a sneaky feeling that they might use the plane I’m due to fly on to take those passengers, thereby delaying my flight. I’ve even run out of battery life on my camera, so I can’t play at taking silly pictures. And I have no book with me. I think I’m going to be very bored. Sigh.
Idle thought 5: at what point is the boredom level sufficiently high that your brain dissolves and seeps out of your ear?
Anyhow, time to conserve battery life by shutting down the monitor. I’ll post this on my return (though, if you’ve read this far, you know that already).
UPDATE: my flight wasn’t delayed.
Up and down
To make up for my grumpiness in the preceding post, here’s a pretty picture.
The Lisboetas have a love affair with their trams. The ancient number 28 creaks its way from Martim Moniz to the Basilica da Estrela and back again, invariably packed with tourists and sporting sponsorship from Heineken or Coke. The locals are more likely to be found on the modern number 5 "bendy tram" which whizzes its way out to Belém and beyond.
But Lisbon is a city of hills, and the trams come into their own when they take the form of elevadores, trams built to match the slope of a steep hill and operating in pairs – one going down whilst the other comes up. Thankfully, the authorities seem to have taken the decision to retain the authentic yellow colouring in place of sponsorship, sullied only by a discrete logo for Carris, the public transport firm that operates them. There are three tranvias (the tram-type elevadores, as opposed to the Elevador da Santa Justa, which is a fancy lift) – this picture shows the most picturesque of the three, which operates up and down the hill in Bica. Here the tourists fight for seats with the elderly locals, usually weighed down with dozens of bags of shopping.
Whilst Bica is the longest and most picturesque, the most useful is the Elevador da Gloria, which links the Barrio Alto – the home of trendy bars and restuarants – with Restauradores, adjacent the main railway station and linking in to the metro. Having walked up the hill at Gloria after a very filling meal, I can vouch for the merits of travel by elevador. And only EUR1.10 each way too.
Just fixed…
From Lisboa, in the Alfama district…
Just a taster…
I’ve just downloaded all the Lisbon pictures onto the laptop. I need to sort them out and maybe even create a special page for you, but in the meantime, here is one selected at random:
A view over Belém from the top of the Pedrão dos Descobrimentos. From left to right: the Centro Cultural de Belém; Hels (obviously!) enjoying the sun and the view along the Rio Tejo; the Mosteiro dos Jerónimos and, in the foreground, the Praça do Império.
Copenhagen photographs
A few photographs from our trip to Copenhagen:
This is the view under the Knippelsbro. It just looked fantastically atmospheric that morning. In a way, all that was needed was an old Rover P5 and John Thaw, and you’d have had a scene from any one of a dozen episodes of The Sweeney. Except it would be in Denmark, obviously.
My beautiful fiancée, leaning against a pillar whilst I faff around taking silly pictures of nothing in particular under a bridge.
Very close to the Knippelsbro was this building, the Asiatisk Plads. I don’t think it was anything special, simply some offices, but to me it was supremely beautiful – the simplicity of form and design, the linear grace, even the little details of the security lighting on the outside. I’m not sure that Hels agreed with me entirely on this, but I thought it was great. We saw a whole lot of extremely well-designed buildings in Copenhagen – not fancy or gimmicky, just stylish and smart. Also, there generally wasn’t a lot of graffiti or flyposting around on the buildings to spoil the look.
Hels stirring a cup of glögg when we were in Malmö. This drink will always be in our memories of this trip, and we plan to serve it at our wedding.
Malmö – not so very different in general appearance from Copenhagen, though clearly without that capital city oomph. A view of the buildings in Drottninggatan.
Many towns and cities have a typical look for their local buildings – the more traditional ones at least. Chichester is famous for its Georgian doors – there is even a book on the subject. In Copenhagen, the norm is red brick, but there are also a large number of buildings that are rendered or painted in this lovely warm mustard yellow colour. This one was on Nyhavn.
Copenhagen in bullet points
A weekend in brief:
- Glögg was being served everywhere, and Hels and I quickly became addicted. Definitely the essential winter beverage.
- Tivoli – beautiful with its fairy lights, full of happy people, home to extortionately priced tat and site of the most bizarre animatronic Santa’s grotto you will ever see – worth the admission price for that alone.
- Degas – a highly recommended French restaurant.
- Vor Frelsers Kirke – utterly beautiful with the golden globe at the top of the spire glistening in the sun through the morning fog.
- Bastionen og Løven – home of quite possibly the best hot chocolate in the world, according to Hels anyway.
- Christiania – where Hels and I felt just a little out of place, but welcome nonetheless, at least in the little market. The drugs stalls are generally less welcoming, almost threatening – although that may be the attitude the locals adopt towards any couple that arrive dressed in smart designer clothing. Hels’s new Nepalese hat, purchased in the market, helped us to blend in.
- Charlottenborg Udstillingsbygning was one of the highlights of the weekend – a fabulous contemporary art gallery which is currently showing an exhibition entitled "From Dust to Dusk". If you like modern art and can get to see it, then I recommend that you do so. Our favourite piece (although we had several) was White Landscape by the German artist Christina Kubisch, which consisted of a large darkened room. On the floor, more than one hundred white painted speakers of differing sizes were illuminated from above by UV lamps so that they glowed in the darkness, and each gently and in turn played the sound of a tuning fork. Utterly mesmerizing.
- Strøget – shopping heaven. And like Jason, we also found lots of feet, which serve the useful purpose of making you stop walking, pause and look up and around.
- Barbar Bar was very cool. If I lived nearby, I think you’d find me there frequently.
- By train to Malmö across the Øresund Broen, which affords fabulous views across the steely grey and choppy Øresund that separates Denmark and Sweden. Malmö is every bit as beautiful as Copenhagen (or, to be more correct, København). Glögg and shopping were again high on the agenda, but not before we’d explored the Form/Design Center which was crammed full of the sort of things than any self-respecting Scandinavian interior designer would consider as must-haves, as well as David Design which was full of yet more things calling out "buy me! buy me!"
- Peder Oxe for more fine food – not just for tourists, as the guidebook suggests, but also popular with the locals, it seems.
- Nyhavn, on the other hand, truly is touristy.
- Finally and sadly, we had to leave. But leaving was made easier by virtue of the excellent trains once again, and the wonder that is Københavns Lufthavne – you can see why it has won so many awards. Without doubt the most logically and elegantly designed airport I have ever visited.
I think we’ll go again to Copenhagen. Highly recommended, though do expect it to be expensive. It isn’t necessarily the case that things in Denmark are more highly priced (although alcohol certainly is – expect around £4 for a pint or spirit+mixer), it’s just that the Danes don’t bother with cheap stuff. They clearly believe that if something is worth having or doing, then it is worth paying to have/do it right.