Month: September 2017

Friday 8th September
A brisk morning greets us this morning, the skies are grey, out on the river there is a stiff breeze. We hurriedly shower, dress and individuality make our way to breakfast, me leading the charge as I want to get top deck for the photos this morning. We have cruised through the night from Cologne, at about 8.30am we will pass Koblenz into a 30 kilometre zone that is known for its extreme beauty. The snaking Rhine river flows through steep sided valleys green with vineyards and natural vegetation. A mix of castles from long lost era’s stand guard over the landscape. Some mere ruins, some still breathing life as homes, tourist museums or hotels. After my quick breakfast, I rug up, and head towards the upper opened deck. We are cruising right down the centre of the Rhine at this point, the wind is brisk to say the least, continually changing direction as we follow the winding rivers course. The sun is still low in the sky giving little warmth as it struggles to break through the cloud. When it does the light thrown over the river is like polished copper rippled by the ships bow wave as it pushes the water gently outwards. I start to catch glimpses of the first castle and the camera starts clicking, trying to deal with the ever changing light conditions and the whipping wind. We float on through a fairyland of castles fit for a Rapunzel or even a Cinderella. Through green valleys of terraced vineyards and magical medieval buildings and homes. Our cruise director as set up the communications devices we all have and is running a commentary, Amanda joined me and is listening in while I am clicking away. The wind increases, the sun disappears behind the steep hills as we turn, those brave souls in short sleeves and shorts soon disappear, to appear later more appropriately dressed. The sun rises enough that the hills are no longer a competition, but the cloud cover increases, leaving only the suns ghostly image shining through. The stewards hand out hot chocolate laced with liquor to ward off the chill. Not wanting to partake of alcohol this early in the morning we stick it out but eventually, the time comes when the cold drives us inside for a hot beverage. 

We sit inside in the lounge and watch the scenic towns one by one appear and disappear as we pass them by bound for Rudesheim. Rudesheim is famous, mostly for wine, Riesling to be exact, Riesling is planted as far as we can see and is the speciality grape for this region. 

One after the other the colourful pristine medieval towns on either side of the river pass us by and we arrive at our destination. Here we are met by a blue and white train, not dissimilar to Thomas the tank engine, but on road wheels not a track and with a big Mercedes logo where Thomas’s smile would normally be. We board the train or rather the carriages and we trundle off to the centre of Rudesheim. Our chosen excursion today is The Niederwalddenkmal monument located in the Niederwald landscape park, accessible by a ten minute chairlift, overlooking the valley of the Rhine and was built in the 1870/80s to commemorate the Unification of Germany. The structure is massive at 38 meters tall or 135ft. With some trepidation we take the chair lift, the wind buffets us as we take off above the vineyards, forcing me to remove my hat in case it should blow away and float towards  the Rhine their to float forever back downstream from whence we came.

Our tour guide is again informative, not only about this regions history but also its wine industry. One particular winter speciality is a coffee drink invented here, sugar cubes, soaked in brandy are set alight then topped with hot espresso coffee then topped again with whipped cream and chocolate flakes, sounds good to me. The drink can also be adjusted for summer just add ice cream instead of whipped cream and let it cool.

We take the chair lift/gondola back down to the town where we have a few moments to wander around, first stop the beautiful Christmas shop, full of locally made Christmas decorations, carved wooden figures that represent Christmas themes, plus the odd made in china one no doubt. Here we do buy a small Father Christmas that is actually an incense burner but the detail in the locally made figure is beautiful. We move on, working our way back to the meeting point. The cute little alley ways are now starting to fill with people, at every turn there is a hidden restaurant, tables set ready for dinner service. In the meantime people are enjoying wine tastings from small cups served from open windows or ice cream from the many flavours available at a nearby stall. We reach the meeting point just as the little train arrives to pick us up and take us back to the ship, all aboard the road train winds its way back down to the river and back to the River Duchess’s docking point.

We don’t have a lot of time once back on board to relax, the usual presentations for the following days events take place around 6.30pm in the lounge bar over cocktail hour. While Amanda settles in to read a little of her latest novel, I download the days pictures of which there are many for review. 

We have had an invite to dinner in the covered area of the upper deck tonight, one of only twenty couples, the chef will prepare and cook all of the food for the meal in front of us in this space. 

The cocktail time comes around pretty quick, dressed for dinner we make our way to the lounge. Tomorrow we are in Frankfurt, we have chosen a “do as the local do ” walking tour. The cruise director Bueunos from Budapest informs us of our options and the surrounding points of interest. We dock right in the city centre with all the city points of interest within a 15 minute radius. The bar service manager Maria from Romania informs us about the wines available for tonight’s dinner, then we are off to the restaurant venue. We are seated with two other couples who are seasoned travellers, retirees like us they spend a good deal of their time travelling. One couple are from Seattle in the US and the other from Perth, Australia. The Perth couple are on their third cruise this year and have one more to fit in before years end, now that’s traveling. The evening is an enjoyable one, the venue though not good the sound from the twenty guests all talking at once bounces of the steel and glass making it very hard for conversations. At one point smoke fills the room fortunately the canopy above, we discover is moveable as the crew slides it back to allow the smoke to vent. The meal is a set menu, first a long glass plate with four indentations, providing room for four different tastings, a tiny cup of soup, a prawn sitting in a garlic aioli, a twirled conical dob of salmon mousse and a fried cheese ball with cranberry sauce.

This is followed by a creamy wild mushroom risotto then the main course of beef strip rolled together with bacon moistened with mustard, to make a meat roulade. This accompanied by a double baked potato and carrots. The wines are from the local area, we had brought with us from the lounge bar a local Riesling, we had heard a lot about this regions riesling variety today and wanted to taste a drop out our earliest convenience, the wine we had served to us was very good, not wanting to leave a half full glass it came along. We tasted the Pinot Blanc, that was the recommended wine but was not to our liking, however to match the beef dish was the local red wine variety Dornfelder, this is a locally produced dark-skinned variety of grape. Created by August Herold at the grape breeding institute in Weinsberg in the Württemberg region in 1955. The wine was outstanding, full bodied akin to a Cabernet or Merlot but lighter in style than at home. Dornfelder wines are typically velvety textured, slightly floral, often show flavours of plums, blackberries or cherries, this one no exception.

Our table is the last to break up as the others had drifted off to the lounge for entertainment or to their beds. Finally though with the tables cleared around us we feel obliged to move on. We decide to make for our bed as we have an early morning tomorrow for our Frankfurt tour. 

Thursday 7th September
The grey skies have continued, a small slither of sunlight filters through the cracks in our curtains from the east as dawn banishes the night darkness waking us up. Imperceptibly we have glided down the Rhine river overnight winding our way upstream around the many bends and out of the Netherlands and into Germany. Breakfast is first on the agenda, the brochure says sumptuous and that it is. With just about any food type you could desire, even an omelette chef making fresh omelettes to order while you wait. We continue our silent gliding, the ships engines barely perceptible, one feature of the room which is great is the so called “French balcony” this allows fresh to flow in through the open sliding door. Düsseldorf is the first town we pass through an old River port town, I have visited here in my past working life, as this town is the the location of huge medical products fairs held every year. This time though we are sailing through on our way to Cologne, arrival around 3.00pm where we will take an afternoon tour. The temperature remains cool around 15c as I write this.

We glide into Cologne, the mammoth outline of the enormous cathedral dark against a grey sky. From the top deck we watch the docking procedure as we tie up parallel to the high river walls, then access the river pathway directly by an access ramp to the ship.

We have decided on a walking tour of Cologne that takes in the Cathedral and then moves on to the nearby modern art museum, named Ludwig’s museum after Peter Ludwig a chocolate billionaire endowed 350 works of art to the then the Wallraf-Richartz Museum in 1976. The endowment then valued at $45m included works from Pop Art, Abstract and Surrealism, the city built a new museum to house the works that now has one of the largest Picasso collections in Europe. It also features many works by Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein.

This my third visit to the cathedral, it is still an enormous edifice that took hundreds of years to complete at one point in history the building works stopped for three hundred years and then began again. Now undergoing restoration work, the city is trying out different techniques to preserve and restore the blackened and crumbling stone for future generations. Consequently scaffolding is everywhere, reminding us of the famous Barcelona cathedral, the La Sagrada Familia that was also under scaffolding when we were there. Come to think if it even the Capitol building in Washington DC was covered in scaffolding when we were there, at least Big Ben wasn’t this time!

Inside though all is pretty much without change probably for centuries, the gigantic vaulted ceilings must have astounded anyone who came to see the building. Congruent with the internal scale, enormous stained glass windows bring in light adding to the eerie ambience of the main chamber. We wander around looking at the ancient religious relics and tombs of past bishops and other leaders. This is a Catholic Church so would have links to Rome, the town originally a Roman settlement Colonia Claudia Ara Agrippinensium, a name that was bound to be shortened, first to Cologne, then to Kuln as the locals now call it.

The name Cologne of course became synonymous with perfume, when under Napoleon, Cologne was part of the French empire. The famous 4711 brand created in the early 18th century by Johann Maria Farina (1685–1766), an Italian living in Cologne created a fragrance. He named it Eau de Cologne (“water from Cologne”) after his new home. Apparently these where stinky times.

We have listened to our tour guide as we move around Cologne and now we follow him to the Ludwig museum. After he leads the tour around the gallery he announces that he will leave us and that we can make our way at or own leisure back to the ship, a few of the group think he is joking but after we descend the architectural staircase to the ground floor he disappears. Although the German modern art he pointed out to us wasn’t to our taste, he was obviously a well versed student of art as his knowledge of these paintings and their apparent meaning was deep. The one painting I enjoyed the most was a Picasso portrait of an actor dressed for the part of a jester in harlequin outfit and partial makeup, very striking.

Our way back to the ship is through the cobbled streets of Cologne, that wind around parallel to the the Rhine.

Take any narrow alley to our left and you are back on the river. All around the memories flood back of our last visit here, much later in the year and colder. Comparing the pictures from 1994 and Cologne now is interesting indeed.

Back on the ship, we have to prepare for the captains gala dinner tonight, first the presentation of the officers and department heads then the dinner, one of the two formal dinners of the cruise. We make it just in time for the presentation, dressed in our finest evening outfits brought along all this way just for the cruise. Champagne and canapés greet us, the personnel are introduced by the captain dressed in a white dinner jacket and black tie, a humorous fellow, with his German accented English and vocal tone one can’t help thinking Arnold Schwarzenegger, or if your Australian Mathias Cormann, as portrayed by our countries comedians.

The presentation over, we make our way to dinner a five course affair, prawn cocktail, mushroom soup, chicken vol-au-vent, choice of sea bass, or veal chop, dessert of thick chocolate mouse, presented as a cube with mango sorbet on top and a twirl of hard mint chocolate. German wines to match a fruity Sauvignon Blanc and a Cabernet Merlot. Mike and Pauline, fellow travellers we met the previous night join us again for dinner.

There is to be entertainment in the lounge after dinner but dinner doesn’t end until 10.00pm so we decide give that a miss. An early start is needed tomorrow as we pass through one of the most scenic parts of the Rhine from around 8.30am, littered with castles, picturesque villages and vineyards.

Wednesday 6th September 
The rain has persisted over night leaving wet shiny cobblestones on the pathways below our hotel window. We have a late check out around midday giving us time for a leisurely breakfast before finalising our packing. The breakfasts are good here catering for all tastes, we still find it fascinating the variety of food people do eat to start the day. Breakfast over we return to our room and open up the windows looking out over the canal, buildings in Europe do tend to build up heat in summer becoming ver stuffy. The scene outside is quiet, mornings tend to be so, then slowly as the day reaches late morning the cafes and restaurants start to fill with lunch time crowds. We have made some observations about the people here, they are very tall, we check the statistics with Mr Google and sure enough Dutch males are the tallest on average in the world averaging 6′ or 180cm the other statistic is that the society is not as multicultural as the other countries we have visited and sure enough again according to Mr Google Dutch ethnicity is 79% of the population. With 17 million people in 41,543 km² there is not a lot of room for expansion. Compare that with Australia at 7.692 million km². 

We watch a little TV trying to catch-up on any news from home, mostly though a another potentially catastrophic hurricane, this one named Irma is heading into the Caribbean and has the worlds news attention. The hotel Pulitzer, is a great place to stay, fairly central in a city that is walkable or bike-able if you so incline. The name Pulitzer of course refers to the famous book prize of the same name, in 1960 Peter Pulitzer (grandson of Pulitzer Prize founder Joseph Pulitzer) saw great potential in the beautiful but dilapidated canal houses of Amsterdam. He purchased twelve houses along the Prinsengracht and Keizersgracht canals and created Amsterdam’s first five star hotel, references to books can be found around the hotel in subtly placed artworks.

Time arrives for us to depart, we checkout, our taxi arrives and we are off again in search of the River Duchess, we have the address a meaningless jumble of letters and numbers, (Ruijterkade oost IJRO6) hopefully this means something to someone, the concierge was most optimistic having seen many a traveller off to the same address, however it’s a little daunting especially when our Turkish driver asks us in very broken English where we are going and doesn’t appear to have any idea. We show him the address and his eyes light up, thank goodness. Actually the ride is a very short one, into the same district we canal cruised a couple of days ago. River boats are lined up double parallel to the docks, we spot the River Duchess tucked in behind another boat before the taxi driver does. We pull up, and alight, the driver helpfully wheels our suitcases right to the foot of the boats on ramp. Just a little incline, as the entry point is not as far up as it would be on a cruise ship and we are onboard and checked in. Just as well, as the wind off the river is chilly indeed, the coldest we have experienced since leaving home, now nine weeks ago. 

We have arrived about 1.00pm in the afternoon our rooms are still in the preparation stage, estimated time of entry around 3.00pm until then we retire to the lounge bar for a coffee and tea, happy to be inside as rain drops start to appear on the windows overlooking the river. On the opposite bank sits a building a modern building twenty stories high, above the cube of glass and steel sits a circular glass floor and above that again sits another square floor that is diametrically opposed and cantilevers over the circular floor below, on top of this a glass balustrade and within this space there are two giant swings that apparently swing out over the river, giving riders a nerve racking view of the river below every time the pendulum swings over the glass balustrade. In my picture of the building you can just see the swing in the topmost right hand corner. 

With nothing else to do except watch the river traffic, while the lounge slowly fills with passengers awaiting their room keys, that is how I fill my time while Amanda is hungrily devouring another book opposite me. A giant ocean cruiser the MRC Magnifica completely fills our window view as it glides by, the sheer scale of the ship highlighted when it’s bulk blocks out the buildings on the opposite bank as it turns following the curve of the river towards a passenger terminal closer to the city. 

A little later than suggested we are finally shown to our state room, stately it may sound but tiny it is. The bedroom is dominated by the large bed that faces out towards the water, we have a little dressing room and surprisingly a very large bathroom. Our valet, knocks on our door and introduces himself as Valentin, he shows us the rooms features and benefits that include a fully loaded bar, all included. Amanda is anxious about the laundry service, that too is included and picked up everyday, perfect. We unpack and as we do so the boat silently takes off from the dock, so quietly we don’t even notice it until objects on the bank opposite that shouldn’t move are doing so. The sensation is just of gliding silently along with just the most tiniest amount of rocking movement. Our stateroom has a so called French balcony that opens up allowing the outside in, the smell of the water and surrounding air combined with the floating sensation is wonderful. We have to assemble with the rest of the passengers in the lounge bar at 5.15pm for a mandatory safety briefing, this is conducted by our German Captain, Michael Hoffman. The briefing is carried out in an entertaining way, the Captain able to convey both the funny side and serious side of the safety and security briefings, keeping everyone focused on the message. 

As darkness falls we adjourn to dinner in the restaurant, the dinner menu has a variety of ingredients featured, I decide on mussels, out of their shells in a light broth, followed by grilled Plaice, a locally caught flat looking fish. Amanda has roast poussin (a very small chicken) with cauliflower, broccoli and carrots Both meals are beautifully presented and delicious. The wines a Pinot Noir and a white that is a blend of six varieties, served so quickly, then whisked away that we didn’t have the opportunity to identify them completely. We share our table with a couple from the Albury Wodonga area, enjoying conversation involved around family and travels, a very pleasant evening that all too soon sees us back in our room to be lulled asleep by the strange sensation that floating along a river in the middle of the night brings with it, and so into our river of dreams we float looking forward to tomorrow and the city of Cologne, Germany.

Tuesday 5th September
A gloomy day today, perhaps a taste of normal weather here in the Netherlands. I check the temperature at 9.00am and surprisingly it is 18c, not to bad, High will be 20c not a lot of variation. When we do venture out after breakfast there is no wind, maybe a very slight breeze coming off the canal. We are off to the Dam in “Amsterdam”, the central plaza that was the site of the original damming of the Amstel river and the origins of the cities name. All around the central plaza are magnificent buildings, typical of most European cities. We are heading for the Royal Palace, that originally started life in the 17th century as the cities town hall. The plaza or square is actually a rectangle about 200 x 100 meters of cobbled stone. Currently it is occupied by horse drawn carriages that will take you for a clippity clop tour of the area. 

Other than those, you can also find Batman, the Grim Reaper, a fellow in a golden suit apparently levitating in some magical way above the cobble stones and various other characters out to make a buck from the tourist. As we cross the plaza towards the Royal Palace one of the characters entertaining the throngs of visitors lets loose a wave of bubbles that float into the air and rise above us. 

The Royal Palace is still used by the current King Willem-Alexander, Queen, Argentinian born Maxima and their three daughters, Catharina-Amalia (heir to the throne), Alexia and Amelia. Apparently although the Palace is always kept in readiness for their use, it is not used as regularly as Buckingham Palace in London. The family preferring to live on their estates in Wassenaar about 42 kilometres south along the Dutch coastline. 

The main essence is that the Palace was originally the cities town hall and was built in 1655 on thousands of wooden pilings, that also form the foundations for most of the buildings in Amsterdam that are now lopsidedly sinking into the earth below them. The exterior stone was brought from Germany and the interior is constructed of sold marble. At the time the building was the largest in Europe. Amsterdam had four mayors in those days, the building held all the administrative staff they needed to run the city, accountants, tax collectors, judges, marriages where conducted there as where executions. This was truly the centre of life in Amsterdam at the time. Probably the most artistic merit goes to the intricate marble sculptures and reliefs found in all corners that took Artus Quellijn and no doubt a team of stone masons fourteen years to complete, the details phenomenal.

 The crowning glory though is the statue of Atlas high on the wall of the central hall overlooking three circular intricately maps of the worlds eastern and western hemispheres and the northern hemisphere night sky, inlaid with marble, ebony and brass the works show a map of the world as the Dutch saw it in those days. Australia is called New Holland and is joined to New Guinea, the tip of Tasmania beautifully drawn but joined to the mainland and named Terra Diminis, after Van Dieman, the Dutch explorer who was first in those waters. The Dutch were a major sea power in those days and had accumulated great wealth through trade with the Far East. 

It wasn’t until much later in 1806 after the fall of the Royal house of Orange and Napoleons brother Louis was installed as Louis the 1st of Holland that the town hall became a palace, then in quick succession his son Louis the 2nd of Holland took over. They both made a good many improvements to the Palace to make the building more liveable as it was reputedly an extremely cold draughty place to be in winter. One of the largest collections of empire style furniture still exists here in the palace to this day, commissioned by one of the Louis Bonaparte’s. The Palace briefly became the private home of a French governor who took over when Louis the 2nd fell from grace, only to be ousted himself when Prince William VI (son of Prince William V of Orange), returned to the Netherlands in 1813 when the building again became a royal palace and has remained so ever since.

All of this and more we gleaned from our audio tour after we purchase tickets and pickup our audio devices. Technology again, this time the devise doesn’t have so screen and you don’t need headphones, you simply point the devise at the point of interest station as you walk around and then hold the device to your ear like a mobile telephone and the narration begins. You can press a button for further information on works of art or move on to the next veiling point. All in all it takes us two hours to walk around and admire the Palace’s first floor, as a working Palace there is a lot though you don’t see.

Back out onto the streets we head for the nine streets district, so named because this grid of three rows of three streets equals nine. The narrow streets cross the canals that pass underneath, and age lined with smaller, almost tiny copies of the larger merchant houses that line the canals. They once held the homes of the services and trades people, now they are full of quirky little shops and restaurants. We just wander around taking in the atmosphere, the city is full of people, thousands of bikes line every street and every canal, amazingly they never seem to diminish. At one point we find ourselves in a market area that is selling flower bulbs by the thousands, of course tulips are the main bulb, but others like narcissus, snowdrops, carnations, violets, peonies or orchids are all there on what are supposed to be floating stalls, but it’s hard to tell that they are floating from the street front. You can also buy Marijuana starter kits in cans, this is Amsterdam after all.

We stop to take the occasional photo gradually making our way back towards the hotel. Amanda spots a barber and sends me in for a clip. Euro$27.50 later I am a little light headed, how much if I had hair I wonder! The day has warmed up just a tad, but now a light rain is beginning to fall, so we hurry back to the hotel that is now just a few minutes away. We decide to have an early dinner in the hotels bar bistro as it is now late afternoon, they actually make a great cheeseburger, that and a glass of rose and we are feeling done for the day. Besides we have to pack again tonight in readiness for our transfer to the river dock area where we will pick up the River Duchess, to begin our fourteen day journey along the Rhine and Danube rivers tomorrow. We are both excited, this is a totally new experience for us, one we are really looking forward to.

Monday 4th September
The weather gods are looking after us, brilliant sunshine greets us this morning. We have two planned, booked events today so we need to move our tushes, hustle our buns so to speak. Breakfast here at the Pulitzer is exhaustive, but we can’t dally, we do need to stoke the bellies with a quick meal before a busy morning and early afternoon. Our first appointment is the Van Gogh museum, I say appointment because the museum is so in demand that you have to book online at a designated time slot, the museum allows you only a 30 minute leeway in which to be late, after that you are shut out. We are due at the museum/gallery at 10.00am and the walk takes us parallel to one of the western canals, then south still following another canal until we cross over the Singelgracht a major canal that flows into the Amstel river, that then flows directly into the centre of the city of Amsterdam itself. According to Miss Apple this will take us about 28 minutes. We set off, constantly stopping to check our directions as our Australian voiced navigation takes us down streets and alleyways, unpronounceable to us and clearly just as unpronounceable to our guide, but she has a good shot at it. All the while we keep to a narrow pathway dedicated for mere walkers, while cyclists whizz by at a rate of knots in their dedicated wider lane, ringing their bells to startle you or to warn you of their impending approach, we are not sure which. Bicycles take all forms, small, large, some with passenger or goods trolleys out in front of the front wheel, others with kid seats in front or back. All ages cycle from one spot to the next, this is Amsterdam city centre, by far the easiest way to move around is by bike. There are 1.5 million bicycles in Amsterdam compared to a population of 800,000. This is not a car friendly place. As a pedestrian too, you have to be very careful, the many bicycles approach from every direction, charge out of alley ways seemingly without looking, the main aim it seems is to be in whatever place you want to be first. We wind our way around to our destination making good progress, quickly correcting our steps if the little man on the screen oversteps his mark. We arrive at our own specified time slot exactly on time, although a little hot, the day is sunny but still cool, the walk has heated us up. Once inside the museum we pickup our audio tour sets and proceed to look around. Like the British Museum, each item or painting is numbered, instead of typing the numbers one simply rotates a virtual dial on the audio set screen to select a number, then press play and listen. We take the approximately 90 minute “Explore at leisure tour” that starts on the first floor and extends to three levels. 

There are 200 Van Gogh paintings and even more drawings and sketches also a few by Paul Gauguin, a friend of Vincent’s but also an antagonist of sorts. The ear incident for example, sparked by a disagreement with Gauguin. A few points of interest about Van Gogh we hadn’t realised, his love of the Japanese style of painting, its simplicity appealed to him immensely. He painted the famous Sunflower painting five times keeping each version. In a year from May 1889 to May 1890 while a voluntary patient at an asylum at Saint Remy, Provence, France he painted 150 canvasses.

It takes us the full 90 minutes and more to take in all the works and listen to the stories about them, he wrote about his painting and sent the writings in letters to his brother Theo, some of those words are reproduced on the audio we listen to.

The time approaches for us to move on, we have booked a canal cruise, on the wooden canal boat owned by the Pulitzer at 1.00pm. We set off again using Miss Apple as our guide, she takes us on the scenic route, it’s all very scenic really. This time though we are directed towards the Holland Casino, then down on a pathway that takes us along the waters edge, this looks like a pleasant walk but our path is blocked after a short way and we have to retrace our steps due to maintenance works. We are conscious of the time and reroute ourselves, now having to pickup the pace somewhat. We finally connect with the Princengracht canal that takes us all the way to the Pulitzer. We arrive with just a few minutes to spare, just enough time for a comfort stop and we are on the platform waiting for the little boat named “The Tourist” to set sail. This little wooden boat was originally built in 1909 and has spent a good deal of its life plying the Amsterdam canals. The boat has a painted white hull, varnished timber window frames, with windows that slide down to open up the boat on days like today. Inside is small but plush, lots of varnished timber and brass with a beveled glass doored liquor cabinet. Padded seats on varnished bench seats are fit for a Queen and Prime minister, as it indeed was when Winston Churchill and Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands toured the canals in her, after the defeat of the Nazis in 1945. In those days the little boat had a diesel engine, now fully electric it still plies the canals in a more ecological friendly way. 

We float around the canals for another ninety minutes, looking up at the street scenes, the narrow houses, three or four stories tall, standing at attention like soldiers that have stood on parade for hours and are now a little wonky. 

As we travel down the canals, permanent floating homes line the waterways, many have made their homes here for years, now they are allowed to stay but no new ones allowed in. The boat homes are in various states of repair or should I say disrepair. Some loved and cared for, some slowly dissolving into the brackish water around them. Now permanently anchored and immovable, they all are now property to be bought and sold, average price for a permanent water view euro$300k. 

We pass by a junction where you can see bridges line up ahead of you like a never ending reflection in a mirror. 

One part of the canal system takes us into the “Venice of the north” here the canal waters lap against the sides of buildings just like in Italy. Then we emerge out into the wider waters of the Amstel River, modern buildings and architecture front the wharfs of this waterfront district, a completely obverse and surprisingly refreshing side to Amsterdam city centre.

 Travelling back into the old canal system we find somehow we must have completed a loop, we are heading back down the Princengracht canal back to the Pulitzer’s dock and the end if our tour. 

The Pulitzer is situated on a corner between two canals, they occupy about four building facades on both canal facings and the interior spaces that run through the middle. Consequently the interior is like a rabbit warren, full of corridors and steps that change from one level of a building to another level of what used to be an adjacent building without you even realising. A central courtyard takes up some space in the centre of the complex, partly covered by glass passageways and dining areas and partly open for summer use. We make our way to the rear of the building where the restaurant “Janz” is, outside there are chairs and tables setup against the canal, so that one can enjoy a snack or drink from the bar, with a water view. We take a seat and order cappuccino’s, the coffee is good here, plus a Dutch version of bruschetta, not quite as the Italians would do it but enough to fill a gap until dinner tonight, inside at this very restaurant. 

After our break we decide it’s time to relax awhile in our room before dinner. 

Dinner time rolls around once again, I must admit I like the formality of it all, dressing for dinner and making an occasion and celebration of our night out together. 

The hotels restaurant, sits on a corner alongside a canal and a bridge that crosses over it. The long twilights are not only an English feature the days ends here linger on too! We are seated and I order a glass of champagne for us both while we discover the contents of the menu. The waiter suggests some oysters to go with the champagne, I order just two for me, as Amanda is not a fan, and we continue our menu investigations. We order a salad of beets, fennel, small squash, watercress sprouts, and a green vegetable, with a conical shape made up of tiny florets that tasted like raw cabbage (in a good way) with a puréed goats cheese and balsamic vinegar dressing to share and our main course, a lobster risotto. In Australia we think Lobster, expensive, but here, as in the US and England Lobster appears on the menu often and is not anymore expensive than say beef or lamb. Nowhere near the same size as at home though, but still tasty.

Along comes the salad but no oysters yet, I ask after them, they are coming I’m told. Meanwhile cyclists are still whizzing by the window, their hair flowing out from their heads, no helmets here as they make there way to where ever they are going.

We order a glass of Chardonnay in anticipation of the risotto that arrives with out delay but still the oysters are illusive. Our salad finished the table is cleared, ahh! the oysters are coming. I linger over the last drop of champagne, that the oysters would have loved to be part of but the lobster risotto arrives instead. I enquire again about the oysters, the waiter is surprised obviously having no idea that oysters had a part to play in this scene. I cancel them anyway, they’ve missed their opportunity for a starring roll. We resume our meal, the risotto is in a word fantastic, creamy and full of the Lobster flavour. We have had two waiters and two servers, they have not talked to each other all evening. Having finished our main course we are quickly offered dessert, yes we will take a look at the menu, but give us a break, let us finish our wine and digest our dinner just a little. The break extends on and on though with no dessert menu, until we ask for one. We choose some ice cream, chocolate for her and pistachio for me. The first waiter that offered up the oysters now puts two glasses on the table, we look at him, he quickly jumps in, some dessert wine for you sir, on the house, since we stuffed up the oysters, it appears the table behind us enjoyed them immensely. Behind the scenes some communication has occurred.

The night ends on a good note as I discuss the style of dessert wine with the waiter that has has served us, red, sweet and French very unusual, I have only had this style in Australia, more of a vintage port style, he doesn’t know the grape variety but it is good. We enjoy our ice cream and then return to our room to recharge for another day tomorrow. 

Sunday 3rd September
Early morning rise our ” I do like to be beside the seaside” alarm fades in at 6.00am rising to alarming levels, forcing us out of bed to shut the thing off. Once up we start the day, the pink haze of dawn lights up the sky outside our window. 

No time for breakfast, we sleepily ready ourselves to depart, checking out at 7.30am then waiting for our ride to arrive. The black Jaguar XJ arrives right on time, the surly driver jams our suitcases into the trunk/boot and we are on our way. Early Sunday morning blues, that’s my diagnoses, the driver puts the foot to the pedal that then hits the metal and we are off like Lewis Hamilton in a Grand Prix race. Sunday morning has its advantages less traffic for one. We sped along making very good time, once again crossing the beautiful old green painted iron work of the Hammersmith bridge with its gold embellishments, and horse shoe shaped gateways. 

We arrive at Heathrow airport in plenty of time, the British airways terminal alone is huge and seems quiet until we pass through security and into the departure gate area, where there seems to be thousands of people travelling somewhere. Luckily we have a lounge pass and can hole up there for a while, grab a coffee and something to eat. Our flight doesn’t have a gate allotted to it yet so we need to keep our eyes on the flight board. Some of the gates can take 15-20 minutes to walk to, but our flight does not leave until 11.45am, plenty of time to relax. We finally are allotted a gate that is only a five minute walk away. We board and take off, leaving the UK for our next adventure that begins in Amsterdam. British airways serves us a quick meal of a duck salad, very fancy but quite nice, before we are into our descent to Schiphol airport. As we fly in across the coastline we can see the towers of the army of wind generators as they rise out of the ocean below, blades rotating at full swing. When we land there is no wind, only sunshine and blue skies with scattered wispy clouds. We switch to our Australian passports, all the electronic passport entry ways lay idle with big red crosses on them. Technology has failed, that means a queue a mile long. The border control guys are just breezing through the ID process, just glancing at the passport photos and then at the faces and waving people through at a rapid rate. Are you here for the Metallica concert the agent asks me as I pass through, absolutely not is my reply. Once through we struggle through the enormous wave of travellers to the not to clear meeting point, our driver is there and soon whisks us away in his black VW station wagon, that seemingly smaller than the Jaguar swallows up our bags easily. The freeways take us quickly into Amsterdam, there it becomes more interesting as we share the narrow lanes that run along the canals with the hundreds of cyclists that are peddling madly along to where ever they are going on this Sunday afternoon. The cycling does seem frenetic, definitely we are going somewhere, this isn’t a leisurely Sunday pedal about.

With much dodging, weaving and ringing of bicycle bells together with the occasional near miss we finally reach our destination the Pulitzer hotel right on a canal. Annoyingly our room isn’t ready on our arrival and we are shunted aside with the offer of free tea, coffee and Internet services. That does placate us for awhile as we plan our next day in Amsterdam and I enjoy a great cappuccino coffee. We are out of merry old England now so the tea, err, not so good. Eventually after 90 minutes, feeling a little forgotten we check on our room, it’s ready, damn customers they always get in the way of ones day! We make our way to the room through a series of covered glass corridors that join several narrow building together to form the hotel. The room is great, on the second floor overlooking a canal, with a bridge to our right, over which endless cyclists pedal. Rows of stationary bicycles are locked up forming a line along the railings over the bridge. The canal itself is lined with small boats, wooden, steel and probably a combination of both, while larger tourist hop on hop off boats painted red or yellow cruise the canal in front of us alongside all manner of pleasure craft, clearly out for a Sunday drive, all creating a very colourful scene before our very eyes. 

We unpack enough for our limited stay as the sun goes down the lights come on outside lighting up both canal and street. The light from street lamps and signs along with the orange bulbs strung around the bridges stone arches throw a shimmering reflection on the water creating a magical scene. Tired From our relatively early start we order some room service tonight, fish and chips, Dutch style, the fish of unknown variety had a white translucent flesh encased in a crispy batter, tasty and melt in the mouth but the chips, well fairly ordinary. After Hawaii we shouldn’t order this dish nothing can compare. A glass of French Chardonnay tops off the meal. We catch up on some world news, the mad north Korean is still playing at war games while Texas floods are slowly subsiding.

Another day draws to a close, as we travel further east losing another hour in time. It’s later than we think as we turn the lights out on another day.

Saturday 2nd September
Another brilliant, I was going to say summer day ahead, but it’s now fall/Autumn in England. The sun is shining brightly on the emerald green parklands of Cannizzaro House this morning. Weather report over, a late leisurely breakfast is planned, our last day in Wimbledon means the inevitable packing must happen today, much to Amanda’s chagrin, buts let’s make it as pleasant as possible. 

Breakfast is usually disorganised here, not much communication going on between the staff. Either two or three servers are all over you or none at all. It’s Saturday morning and there is a wedding breakfast going on to add to the chaos.

This morning we decide to go the cooked English breakfast, eggs Benedict, in a flash the plates are on the table before us, tea and coffee though ordered first, lagging seriously behind. The meal presented is a little below expectations in fact I could do better myself, the half English muffin, has lost something in translation, the hollandaise sauce a little thin, the egg a little hard, the bacon not quite as crispy as it should be. We have stayed to long, the eccentricities of the English are seeping into our bones. Our backs are to the thin middle aged lady, sitting two tables away behind us, who no doubt today is weighing another cereal or has her micrometer out measuring the toast. We dig in, deciding that a serve of thin toast might be a better option. Our coffee and tea finally arrive after a second request and we can relax and enjoy the garden view as people begin to gather, to walk their dogs or kick a round ball and enjoy the morning sunshine.

Eventually reality hits and we must start the packing process, the details of which I can spare you, lest to say lots of humming and haring, puffing and panting, ins and outs and weigh ins. 

Once this is accomplished and the once full wardrobes stand bare and desolate, we can move onto our final event. We have discovered that Wimbledon has its very own museum, situated in the village hall, on Ridgeway, we walk across the common and through the village to find it. Open only from 2.30pm today Saturday it is staffed by two local lady volunteers, that are both very obviously old style English, think Agatha Christies Miss Marple, they are inquisitive, and I bet they could solve a mystery or two. I tell them of my history and my visit to Wimbledon to revisit the past. Then we take a tour of the tiny museum that informs about the origins of Wimbledon and its development it to the community it is today. An interesting note is that the Earl of Spencer was the original land owner, princess Diana’s family. Their are lots of interesting facts about the local flora and fauna, local animals included the badger, polecat (similar to a ferret or weasel) the red squirrel more and more under pressure from its introduced cousin the American grey squirrel. After spending a little time looking at exhibits we are back with the two volunteer curators, they are unable to find the street I lived in Sycamore, it’s not referenced in any books, but I tell,them it’s off Chester, maybe they are not so Miss Marple like as I thought. They agree that the common was a great place to grow up, quite a playground, but they can’t recollect the pond freezing over in recent times, the winters are so much warmer now the exclaim. They provide me with a great hand drawn map, that then poses a problem of how to pack it. We say our goodbyes and wander off down the high street in search of a newsagent. It’s a very pleasant Saturday afternoon, warm, the colourful street is loaded with people out and about, cafe’s and pubs spilling out onto the pavement or outdoor courtyards. The streets are so narrow and consequently the pathways, so you constantly feel in the way if you stop to browse or admire something. We find our newsagent and buy the last packing tube they have for the map, then head back across the common for the last time. 

We take a break back at the hotel for the remaining time we have left before an early dinner at 6.30pm. An early start tomorrow our airport pickup for our flight to Amsterdam is at 8.00am. We dress for dinner, our last here at Cannizzaro House and descend from our centuries old oak panelled room to the new and very modern bistro below for dinner. A glass of champagne to start to celebrate our last night in Wimbledon. The fillet steak catches our eyes tonight, with spinach for her and baby carrots for me. The meat is served with a slice of onion loaf, not something we have seen before, with a kind of soft cake like texture but dominated by onions. A little copper saucepan sits on the side of the plate holding béarnaise sauce, and a small galvanised bucket holds a serve of French fries. All very interesting. We ask the waiter a Czech with a, it seems to us a French accent, to recommend the wine a Rose for madam and Bordeaux for sir. We watch the sun sink behind the surrounding ring of trees anticipating a colourful sunset, disappointingly it is not to be tonight, the sun sinks and we enter along twilight that again reminded me of my childhood summers when the days seemed so long and endless. We complete the evenings repast with a mixture of British and French cheeses as darkness surrounds us.

Our early night beckons and there is still a little packing to do before we call it a night.

Friday 1st September
Another bright sunny morning this morning and although the forecast is for 50% chance of rain the skies don’t look at all as if they could find a drop. This is England though and only the gods know what the day might bring. We have booked an uber cab to take us into central London today so after an early breakfast we venture out into the still cool morning air to wait for the pickup.

Our ride is on time and we are on our way out of Wimbledon towards Putney Heath, Wandsworth and Clapham, all names that come easy to me as my memory kicks in, then winding our way parallel with the river Thames through Battersea and Lambeth all the time the city becoming more densely populated as the larger mansion style homes of Wimbledon make way for red bricked and white stucco fronted, gable roofed, terracotta chimney topped row houses of two and three stories. The homes, closely packed together, are close to the road, off street parking is virtually non existent. The density is not just about housing, the road carrying cars and buses becomes evermore crowded. The number of buses on the road is amazing, those red double deckers are huge and take up an enormous amount of space on these narrow winding roads, our driver is constantly dodging and weaving around the buses and other obstacles as he takes us forward. The ethnic diversity along the streets also changes as we pass through the denser populated areas, through what seems to be recent migrant areas.

Nearing the river Thames too, building is going on at a frenetic pace, cranes dominate the sky line as new apartment buildings in various development stages are in the process of adding to the population density. Along the riverside, judging by other newly completed apartment buildings, the prices are not going to be cheap, river views this close to London will bring astronomical prices for sure. We continue on until we reach the Waterloo bridge, crossing over we have an amazing view up and down the river, then we are driving through Covent Garden and our destination the British museum. We had promised ourselves some culture this trip and so here it begins. 

I had visited here as a child, as I would think that every British kid would have on a school outing or maybe just diligent parenting, then as now the building is a massive repository for historical relics that were collected by British explorers over several hundred years particularly when the British empire dominated the world.

There are reportedly thirteen million objects stored here covering 2 million years of history. When I visited years ago the museum buildings contained a circular domed reading room that sat in the centre of a courtyard formed by the outer buildings. This was taken down and relocated to the national library building in 1997. In 2000 a replacement building of cream marble formed a new version reading room, the outside of which houses a book store, gift shop and above a cafe. The huge courtyard is now covered by a geodesic type clear roof that connects to a centre skylight dome above the new reading room that remains unseen and closed to the public.

After we pass through security, entry is free and you can take as many photos as you like. We enter through the outer building that acts as the main entrance then opens up into the grand courtyard with the geodesic glass dome above us. 

We decide to purchase the interactive audio tour equipment that allows you to enter into it a room or exhibit number and be guided about the room or hear a story about an article you are viewing. Every piece has a story. You can also be guided by the machine and just pick your areas of interest. We have googled the top things to see, but the two pound map has a list of the most popular, the map is well worth the money, just to stop you from getting lost if nothing else. One of the theme rooms we want to see is a history of clocks, but has you make your way from room to room the many treasures distract you. Before you know it you are wondering around taking in one amazing artefact after another. First off a giant ancestral figure, Hoa Hakananai’a from Easter island just stops you in your tracks. It was given or traded to British first explorer seamen then taken down to the ocean and put on a raft to float out to the wooden ship for transport back to England, an incredible feat on its own.

There are huge hallway rooms on Ancient Egypt with what must be some of the best examples of Egyptian sculpture outside of Egypt, then there are the mummies and sarcophagi. 

Then many rooms of ancient Greek relics particularly painted pottery urns, jars and vases of unbelievable detail.

 A Japanese room, again with amazing pieces dating back through time before the Edo period to current time. Europe features medieval Europe and particularly fascinating to me Roman Britain. Since the romans ruled Britain from 43 to 410AD there is a lot of history there. The Middle East is featured with relics from Assyria. 

The Americas including Mexico. We see the turquoise studded mosaic mask of the Aztec god Tezcatlipoca. And Mayan stone carvings.

A striking bronze head of the Roman emperor Augustus, an enormous preparatory sketch for a later painting by Michelangelo, a treasure trove of Roman jewellery and coins,

the gilded inner coffin of Henutmehyt a Theban priestess and a Japanese samurai suit of armour built to stop Portuguese rifle balls, all before we make it to the clock exhibition.

 We decide to have a break and grab some lunch in the cafe style restaurant that sits overlooking the great courtyard, before descending again into the outer buildings to discover more and more treasures. 

An entire room is dedicated to money, both coins and paper, its origins and development through the ages. One item on display is an extremely ornate Tiffany cash register manufactured in Dayton, Ohio in 1901, you can imagine its use in early department stores at that time. 

When we do eventually find the clock exhibition, one can only say it is magnificent, clock making led to all sorts of other so called automaton, once the coiled mainspring was invented to store power by mechanical winding a number of consecutive movements could be made to operate by a series of gear wheels. One clock a golden gallon made in Germany in the mid 1500’s has wheels that in enabled it to sail across a banquet table, played drums and music, has figures that represent the Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II and entourage that rotate inside an outside the passenger quarters at the rear of the ship and also fired canons, all that and it told the time too! 

While large clocks built for church towers and town plazas started to appear in the 14th century, it was not possible to make portable clocks until the mainspring was invented, these were still not very accurate until the 18th century when the balance spring was invented. The most accurate clocks were the pendulum clocks invented in the mid 17th century.

The display traces the earliest clocks through to the pocket watch and wristwatch of today. We hadn’t realised clocks were that old. We decide it’s time to move on, we have spent nearly five hours here, but we are continually distracted by other exhibits we walk through to try to gain egress. One last mission though to see the Rosetta Stone, we eventually find it a slab of dark grey granite like material, that solved the mystery of interpreting hieroglyphics, enabling scholars over 25 years to translate them into a language we could understand today. The stone, actually the same decree engraved in the stone, in three languages was the key. Discovered in 1799 by a French member of Napoleons expeditionary forces in Egypt, however taken by the British when they defeated Napoleon in Egypt in1801. The stone was considered so important that it had to be stored underground during World War Two.

Eventually we call it a day with blinkers on we head outside and make our way by foot to Drury Lane and through Covent garden. This is the heart of Londons West End theatre district and is full of colourful pubs that are beginning to fill and spill out onto the streets with afterwork drinkers, or maybe pre theatre dinner goers, it is after all Friday evening, the beginning of another weekend. 

We are soon at the entrance to Waterloo bridge and make our way across the Thames in one direction then cross under the bridge at the end to walk half way back again on the other side just to take photos of the skyline from each perspective. There are ominous looking black clouds around but the sun keeps popping out from its position low in the sky, as the air cools towards evening. 

We then find a convenient place to call up an uber cab on our phone app, the car arrives in five minutes and we are whisked away from London following the same route back to our hotel in Wimbledon. Each journey taking around 45 minutes. With still full stomachs after our museum lunch we enjoy a glass of wine and some olives in the hotels bar then retire for the night after a long day of cultural awareness. 

Wednesday 30th August
We now have working mobile numbers again Tony +447555207127 Amanda +447423789973 if you have sent us a text in the last few days we may not have received it. You can also message us through this website.
The overcast skies let loose overnight, when we wake it is to a wet and cold looking grey day, a perfect day to spend indoors. Today we have organised lunch with my cousin Janet and her husband Graham here at the hotel bistro that overlooks the beautiful parklands setting of Cannizzaro House.

We have breakfast, also served in the bistro, by the time we leave the rain is coming down fairly heavily, looking as if it is definitely settling in for the day. 

Janet and Graham arrive at the hotel around 11.30am, early so that we can chat for a while before lunch at 12.30pm. When they arrive we slip into easy conversation, although we haven’t seen them since Sandra & Dean’s wedding in Australia in 2012 it really does seem like only a few months ago. Amanda too enjoys there company and we talk on and on catching up on each other’s families latest events, our lives and shared history as the children of two very close brothers. We spent a lot of time together on holidays or on weekends as families when we were young. I was the only boy and the eldest, so it somehow fell to me to look after my little cousin Janet, while my sister Sandra and cousin Barbara, more of the same age played together. Time passes through lunch and on into the late afternoon at which time we think we should move to the bar lounge before we are handed dinner menus, the conversation continues as the sun briefly makes an appearance before going down for the night. The time slips away until the hands on the clock reach 9.00pm and our guests need to leave for their home in Fetcham about 30 minutes away. We had a great lunch and wonderful conversation that could have gone on, if only the days were longer. We say our “Til we meet agains” and retire for the night. 
Thursday 31st August
A very cool morning this morning a little bit of a shock to the system, through the window, we see sunny skies outside, inviting us to a pleasant day, I check the temperature but it’s only 8c/46f, chilly indeed.

After breakfast, we take our now usual path across Wimbledon Common, me wearing a light sweater and Amanda in her light rain jacket, we add our footsteps to the all ready well worn pathways, tracks really that criss cross this grassy space. Through the village we walk and following the signs down Church road, pass St Mary’s church on our right until we reach the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club, better known as Wimbledon. We are booked for a tour of the grounds and facilities starting at 11.00am, our ticket tells us to be there thirty minutes before hand we are early and we are on time to do that. 

It still amazes me that such a famous place was so close to where I grew up and I really never went there or to my recollection even passed by. My parents were not sporty people, dad didn’t take much interest in football, tennis was I believed for the elite, neither did mum except maybe the football pools, a type of gambling where by you guessed the wins, draws and losses of the football team competition and could win substantial amounts of money if you predicted the right outcomes. More amazing is the fact that between 1955 and 1964 Australia dominated Wimbledon, winning the men’s single seven out of the ten years, with players Lou Hoad, Rod Laver, Ron Emerson, Neil Fraser and Ashley Cooper. One must believe that this somehow worked it’s way into my parents psyche and helped build a picture of Australia as a winning country and a place where a new start could be had.

My first impressions are that the old buildings look like the older part of Adelaide oval, red brick covered in deciduous ivy that is now starting to turn red and being clipped back to follow the buildings window edges. We pass through security, opening our bags to the watchful eyes of security officers, before having our tickets processed and proceeding to the tour starting point.

The tour starts on time and will last approx ninety minutes, long we thought as we join a small group and begin our tour in earnest. Our tour guide, a middle aged lady with a love of tennis begins with the outside courts describing how the courts are renovated and reseeded each year with meticulous care after the season and can take nine months to once again reach their peak, a dense lush green playing service of just 8mm high. This year over 475000 people attended the championships, a far cry from the 200 that watched the first match played in 1877. It’s not that expensive to buy a day pass during the season around 45 pounds, but you have to be quick to grab a seat from one of the only three rows of seats that line the outer courts, if you leave your seat it is forfeit. The Club currently has 18 tournament grass courts, eight American clay courts, two acrylic courts and five indoor courts. There are also 22 Aorangi Park grass courts, which serve as competitors’ practice courts before and during The Championships. 

Cranes rise high above court 2, this court is currently having a roof added to it as rain is always a feature of Wimbledon events only on a handful of occasions has it not rained during a Wimbledon tournament.

 We venture into centre court territory, behind the scenes where the media have their studios, the BBC a major sponsor is the studio we are shown. Sue Barker was presenter this year and was joined by tennis legends Martina Navratilova, John McEnroe and Billie Jean King.

All the major world broadcasters have studios here, as we pass along the corridors we notice Fox Australia. We pass outside and laid out before us is centre court, the grass looking a little worse for wear, but apparently recently reseeded. Above us the roof is open and on queue a gentle rain starts to fall, the clear blue morning sky has disappeared. 

The tour continues describing the on going plan to move Henman’s hill to accomodate the moving of another court and to create more courts. One of the amazing parts of this tennis club is that the courts are built above ground with restaurants and tunnels big enough to drive trucks through underneath in order to service the vast amount of people that visit every year. 

We visit the players facilities, where there are restaurants, even nail and hair salons everything they may need before going onto court. As long as they stay within 7 miles of the facility they are provided a free ride to and from the courts. Not only is Wimbledon the only grass tennis grand slam but it’s the only one where players have to wear all white, no colour allowed, even underwear, that might show through, or on shoes.

We may have thought the tour was going to be long but the time just whizzes by. The commentary informative and entertaining. We have some lunch at the Wingfield cafe, named after Major Walter Clopton Wingfield who was instrumental in the mid 1800’s in taking tennis outdoors and developing the game as we know it today. They can’t make coffee but desserts are unbelievable.

 We tour the museum with many interesting facts about the game, the development of racquets to me one of the most fascinating. A huge industry in itself, starting with hand made wooden laminated racquets, to steel then aluminium and now graphite, the latter mixed with other materials like tungsten and titanium.

When we emerge from the museum there is still light rain falling but the sun is warm when it peeks through. Amanda with her jacket is happy, me not so I left mine at the hotel thinking the clear blue skies would stay but this is Wimbledon. Fortunately the rain eases then stops altogether as we make our way back up Church road, through the village, stopping at a cute looking book shop, then across the common and finally back to the hotel.

We have booked dinner tonight at “Light on the Common” in the village, a casual cafe style restaurant we ate lunch at earlier in the week. The rain has stayed away but we aren’t taking any chances, with our rain jackets and a large hotel provided umbrella we make our way back across the common, about a ten minute walk to the eatery. The sky is clear above with some beautiful cloud formations across the common ahead of us that are lit by the dying light behind us, while the buildings in the village are reflecting their colours of brown brick and painted white, blue and pink in Rushmere pond, that is now mirror still. I didn’t bring my camera but the iPhone will do, I can’t miss this picture worthy of a painting.

The restaurant is quiet we are the first to arrive, our shared entree/appetiser of calamari and broccolini in a sweet chilli sauce arrives quickly, before the bread and olives we had also ordered. The squid is tender and tasty, we have grown to like the French rose’s currently hitting the wine lists, this one is no exception, crisp and delicate, light in colour with just a hint of nectar. We have to ask again for our bread, telling them to forget the olives. Just as our main course arrives so do they, obviously no communication going on back in the kitchen tonight. 

Amanda had ordered a very British dish of Cod with baby potatoes and broccolini, while I had ordered the teriyaki salmon, with haricot beans and broccolini. Both dishes are delicious. For dessert we stick with ice cream, although there were many exotics desserts on offer. 

Finally well satisfied with our days adventures, we walk back across the common in the darkness lit by the torch from my iPhone back to Cannizzaro House and our beds.