From Faro to Lisbon - by bus.

Above - The youth hostel in Faro where the four nationality breakfast took place.

Above - The youth hostel in Faro from the outside.

Above - the caged birds in the garden next to the hostel in Faro.

I had breakfast on the Wednesday morning with a Canadian, a French person and a German - it was a four nationality breakfast! Before checking out I went into the gardens next door to the hostel for a walk around. There are caged birds in the gardens - apparently they're caged for their own protection... I checked out of the youth hostel at around 9h30 and made my way to the bus station where I bought my ticket to Lisbon. The bus wasn't until 11h so I sat by the harbour writing about what I'd seen and done so far. At 11h I got on the bus. It took us three hours to get to Lisbon and as we entered we had to cross the river Tejo (Tagus) by a 17km bridge that I later learnt is the second longest in Europe and takes 12 minutes to cross. When I arrived I got the metro to the station nearest to the hostel where I was to be staying and followed my directions to the hostel. The weather was warm and sunny but the hostel was easy to find and only about a three minute walk from the metro station. I spent the afternoon planning what I wanted to see and do in Lisbon as well as just popping out to buy some food from a nearby store. The hostel was more luxurious than the one in Faro but the people didn't seem as friendly.

Portugal - Faro

Above - The beach.

Above - Looking towards the marshlands.

Above - Faro's harbour.

Above - The bone chapel.

Above - The bone chapel.

Above - The beach.

Above - Faro's harbour.

The next morning I had breakfast with Cecilia who works for Crawly Social Services. She was really interesting to talk to. The Youth hostel breakfast was two bread rolls, two slices of cheese, jam, butter, a hot drink and fruit juice. After breakfast I walked to the bus stop near to where I had gotten off the bus the day before. I took the number 16 to the beach. I had had to ask someone who looked like he worked for the bus depot where I could get the number 16 bus from. I asked him ‘Falo Ingles?’ and he shook his head and said ‘Falo Fran…’ so I asked him in French and he told me the bus stop was just opposite. I got on the bus and went to the beach. To get to the beach we had to cross the marshland bit.

I spent the morning walking up and down the beach – just miles and miles of golden sand, yellow sunshine and enormous shells. Or at least enormous when you’ve spent your life on the beaches of North Wales… I think it was because it was out of season that there were not many people – I had the beach to myself. I ate lunch at the beach too.

In the afternoon I went to the Maritime museum and the museum of Faro. I also walked again around the old part of Faro and realised I can say ‘Town Hall’ in four language – Town Hall, Le Marie, RatHaus and Camara Municipal. I wonder what the Spanish is…? I also went to the two churches that the lady in the tourist information centre has recommended to me. At one of them there was a bone chapel and right next door a post office where I bought five stamps for my postcards. I walked around the pedestrianised shopping part and enquired about bus times to Lisbon for the next day. I then made my way back to the Youth Hostel where there were new people in the room – Holly from Lyon in France and Mika from Germany. We sat and drank tea and ate scones and a Spanish cake of some description that Holly had brought with her from her time in Spain.

Portugal - Faro, The Algarve.

Above - Tiles inside the Cathedral.

Above - Tiles inside the Cathedral.

Above - The street signs are made out of tiles.

Above - Cobbled streets.

Above - Cobbled Streets.

Above - the view over Faro and the marshland from the top of the Cathedral.

Above - Faro's Cathedral.

Above - The gateway into the old part of Faro.

Above - Cathedral Square.

Above - the tourist train.

The alarm clock sounded at 4h30. I had a flight to catch at 8h. Sometime back in January when booking my flights I opted for the earlier option because a) it was cheaper and b) it meant I’d get to spend more of the day at my destination - Faro. But at 4h30 when it’s still pitch black outside I wasn’t so sure. I left for the train station at 5h30. The streets of Brighton were deserted. I think I passed one bus. The train station wasn’t much better either. It was even too early for the rush hour of commuters to London. But when I arrived at Gatwick airport at about 6h15 it could have been midday. There were lots of people. All going on holiday. I queued in a ridiculously long queue to check in, thank goodness it went down quite quickly! We took off on time at 8h. The flight was the longest I’d ever been on at just over two and a half hours and when we landed the sky was blue and the temperature significantly warmer than it had been in England. I asked the lady at the tourist information desk in the airport where I could get the bus, I also asked her for a map of Faro and how to say thank you in Portuguese – obligada. I got the bus from Faro Airport to the town centre. I had to wait quite a while for a bus – over an hour – but it was warm and sunny in the airport carpark.

When I got off the bus in Faro I consulted my map and my directions to the youth hostel courtesy of google maps. It took me about half an hour to noisily find the hostel, noisily because the streets were cobbled and well, it’s not exactly a silent job wheeling a suitcase over cobbles… By the time I got there I was starting to feel a little overdressed for the Algarve sun – jeans, boots, jacket… The lady in the hostel told me I couldn’t check in until 17h but that I could leave my suitcase. I swapped my boots for flipflops, removed the jacket and left to discover the town. I stumbled across a tourist train which I went on to get an overview of the town. It took us through what looked like an old, walled part of the town as well as around the more modern looking bit. A commentary would have been useful but never mind – it gave me an idea of where to go to see things.

After the tourist train I went in the tourist information centre and asked the lady there what she recommended me to see and do in Faro. She told me to go around the old part of the town and climb to the top of the Cathedral. She also recommended two churches and the beach which you can reach by bus. Apparently, and I didn’t know this, there is a national park of marshland between Faro and the actual coast and beach hence the reason for needing to take a bus to the beach.

I left the tourist information centre and went to the old town and Cathedral. (Second Portuguese word learnt – Sé – Cathedra,l shortly followed by third word – Largo – Square) I climbed to the top of the Cathedral where I could see the marshland between Faro and the beach. I also got a cracking view of the town and it’s harbour. Inside the Cathedral there were lots of tiles – blue and yellow – all over the walls. I’d also noticed that the street names were tiles too… In fact, there were tiles and cobbles everywhere! After I’d walked around the old part of the town I went to the pedestrianised part and had coffee and ice cream – what a combination, a tasty one though. I then made my way back to the hostel where I saw my room. It was a six bed room and everyone in it was travelling alone. They were all really nice and we got on well –Cecilia from South Africa, Bree from Australia – both living and working in London, Dora from Canada and a girl from Japan who was studying in Newcastle.

Dritte Servierung - Hamburg

Above - Hamburg.

Above - Hamburg.

Above - the Germans are so organised that they have a count down to how long before the green man appears telling you it's ok to cross the road.

Above - the train station.

On Sunday we took the train to Hamburg. It was dull and wet. We walked around and stopped for a sandwich in a café where there was a lady with a dog in a holdall. Admittedly the I've seen rats bigger than that dog but still. In a café? At the table? In a holdall?!

We also came across a group of people wearing springs stilts. I have no idea what they're actually called or why on earth you might want to wear them. They make you taller and give you the ability to bounce... it almost made unicycling look normal.

Zweite Servierung - Danemark

Above - An Arriva Trains Wales... in Denmark!

Above - The centre of Esbjerg.

Above - The centre of Esjberg. Was there an evacuation we didn't know about?!

Above - The audience.

Above - The stage.

Above - Esjberg.

Above - Danish postboxes and flag.

Above - Tonder.

Above - Alex and Sam in Tonder.

Denmark, I found, was, in many ways, quite German. It was neat and tidy and clean. We went in the luxury of a German train to Tonder - a Danish town just over the border. There was me, Alex and Sam - also an English assistant and friend of Alex's. We walked around Tonder - there was a market and tourist information as well as a museum. It was upon purchasing postcards and stamps that I discovered that the Danish currency somewhat resembles polo mints - the coins have holes in the middle. Athough everything was in Danish it seemed the majority of people, or at least those who we interacted with at any rate, also spoke German. Handy. Particulary when buying lunch. A Danish cheese salad sandwich and muffin. We went back to the station to catch a train to Esjberg - deeper in Denmark, and, much to my surprise (like with the Oxfam shop discovery yesterday) I saw an Arriva train. Exactly like the ones which pull up at Ludlow station. Arriva in Denmark! How bizarre. On the train eating my lunch I discovered that my raison muffin was infact chocolate chip. Not all that great when you've given up chocolate for lent. I had two options. 1. Eat the muffin and forget lent. 2. Pick out the chocolate chips. I went for the latter getting some strange looks in the process!

When we got to Esjberg (a vibrant university town, apparently) it was raining and cold and dull. It also appeared to have been evacuated. There were no people. Anywhere. The place was empty. The shops were closed. You didn't have to be fluent in Danish to understand the opening times displayed on the shop doors - the sixth day down, Saturday, closing time - 14h. I want to work in Denmark. Everywhere, and I mean, everywhere closes at 14h. The place was empty -had they heard we were coming! We managed to find a café in which we somehow managed to order hot drinks to warm ourselves up. The poor man serving us - first asked if he spoke German and then I came along wanting to order in English. We sat upstairs looking out over the empty central square listening to English songs on the Danish radio. I wrote my postcards and realised that although between us we had a good grasp of multiple languages (English, German, French, Swedish, Frisian, Russian...) we didn't have the Danish work for 'France' for my postcard. I asked the man downstairs before leaving. Goodness knows what he thought of us - ordering in German and English and sending postcards to France! We left the empty café for the empty square. It was raining. There were a couple of people who we passed. Yet none of them had umbrellas. Infact, I don't think I saw a single umbrella in the whole of Denmark. Maybe they're banned? Maybe they don't yet exist in Denmark? I wonder whether the Danish language has a word for 'umbrella'. Well, at least now I'm able to tell a Danish person from a non-Danish person in the rain - the presence or not of an umbrella!

Whilst walking around Esjberg we stumbled across a few random things including a sign signposting 'England' as just round the corner (this was presumably a nearby town that coincidentally had the same name as what the English call their country...). We also came across a stage at the bottom of lots of steps leading up to a tall tower. Cue performances. That was my 15 seconds of fame - on a wet and soggy Danish afternoon in a town that appeared to have been evactuated I made my debut.

And that was Denmark. My everlasting impressions will be that it is clean, tidy and cold. It gives up at 14h. Oh and umbrellas just don't exist.

Gill reist nach Deutschland (und trifft sich mit Kaffee und Kuchen wieder) - Erste Servierung - Von Stansted nach Luebeck und dann weiter nach Husum.

Above - the centre of Lueback with one if its many green topped spires.

Above - Germany does Oxfam.

Above - the Market and Townhall (Der Markt und dem Rathaus) One of the most impressive Townhall's in Germany, apparently which has existed since 1230.

Above - Holstentor - one of Germany's most well known buildings built in 1469-78 in late gothic style.

Hello! I know I haven't posted anything for a long time but that's because I haven't really done anything amazing and anything of even slight interest I may have done I just haven't had the time to post. Term has however now finished so I have a bit more time on my hands to bring you up to date.

Last weekend I took advantage of Ryanair's sale and went to visit Alex (a friend from uni) in Germany. He's lucky enough to be doing a second year as a Language Assistant. Flying with Ryanair meant flying from Stansted rather than Gatwick which is the wrong side of London really but never mind. I caught the 0700 train from Brighton to Farringdon and then took the underground to Liverpool Street before catching the Stansted Express to Stansted Airport. When I arrived I noticed that, presumably in a bid to save money, Ryanair have replaced their check-in staff with machines. Luckily I had checked in online and so didn't have to join the queue to use one of the things. It threw me slightly not having to check-in and not having any bags for the hold. Seeing as I was only going for the weekend I couldn't see the point in paying to take a suitcase when hand luggage would do. I mean, the whole idea of taking advantage of Ryanair's sale was because it was cheap - putting a suitcase in the hold would have cost more than the flight itself! I made my way to the hand luggage search and had to separate out my liquids - nothing more than 100ml and all liquids had to fit into a 20cm by 20cm plastic bag. After the hand luggage search I made my way to the departure lounge making sure I'd been to the toilet before boarding the aircraft - I remembered the article in the paper about how Ryanair plan to charge £1 to spend a penny onboard. The flight was surprisingly short - less than an hour. The pilot was also very informative telling us not only the route we would be flying but also chiming up half way through the journey to point out the dutch coastline to the left and to let us know that it was -6*C outside. When I arrived at Luebeck airport (more of a landing strip in my opinion) I had been given instructions to come out of the teminal building and cross the carpark but not the road, to turn right and to wait for a bus at the bus stop to go to the centre of Luebeck.

When I arrived in Luebeck I popped in the tourist information centre for a map and then began exploring. Alex was to ring me when he arrived. Luebeck in quite small but very pleasant. It has lots of green topped churches (the roofs being made out of copper rather than lead, apparently.) It also has the Holstentor which is apparently one of the best known buildings in Germany. I wandered around the quiet, spotless streets. It appeared that northern Germany was very much like eastern Germany when it comes to everything being clean and orderly. I noticed how, even when there is not a car in sight, people waiting to cross the road still stand obediently waiting for the little green man to tell them it's safe to cross. I began to feel a little conspicuous trundling around a suitcase. A small hand luggage sized suitcase that made an inproportionate amount of noise for it's size. I began to wonder whether the German's had some sort of law about the amount of noise you were allowed to make in the street... I was certainly making, or at least my suitcase was making, a lot of noise. But then, somehow, I managed to get carpet entangled in one of the wheels of my suitcase meaning it wouldn't wheel along any more. As I was unable to untangle it I decided to give into my fondest memory of Germany from last summer - coffee and cake. I plonked myself down in a café and managed to order a sandwich, a cup of coffee and a slice of cheesecake. (Thanks to the shop assistants ability to speak English rather than my ability to speak German it has to be said) And then Alex called. It was then that I realised that a) I didn't really know where I was and b) it emerged that I'd chosen a chain of bakers that have branches on every corner of Luebeck. We eventually met in the Markt and Rathaus. By this point I was having to carry my carpet entangled suitcase. Well at least I wasn't breaking any German noise level law! We walked around Luebeck and, much to my suprise and excitment, found an Oxfam shop!! I've never encountered an Oxfam shop anywhere else in the world other than the UK before. We went in and, apart from it being so German (clean, tidy, neat) it was just like in the UK. There were even leaflets with the Unwrapped pictures in but, obviously, it was all written in German.

I hadn't realised that Husum (where Alex lives and works) was so far from Luebeck. It took us about 3 hours and two trains to get there. German trains are delightful. Clean, on time, confortable. A pleasure to use really. Husum is bigger than I imagined but still quite small. It's the British equivalent of Cornwall, ie Germans holidaying in Germany will go to Husum. It's by the sea but there seems to be a permanent mist pressing down on the houses. Alex lives in a street with other houses. It was very residential. And very German. And by that I mean, clean, orderly and quiet. Or at least it was until I arrived with my suitcase which, by this point, had shedded enough carpet (heaven forbid it came off from around the wheel in a supermarket littering the floor, needless to say it had to be picked up and taken home to the bin!) to be able to wheel again.

SNOW!

Above - the sea front covered in snow.

Above - the beach covered in snow.

Above - look at the depth of the snow!

Above - it's the sea and the beach, honest!

It's quite amazing to see the beach - symbol of summer, covered in snow. And, in true British style, everything grinds to a halt with the arrival of a couple of centimentres of snow - Campus is closed. There are no buses. Trains are disrupted and I heard the airports are closed too. Apparently they haven't seen snow like it for 20 years. Bless.

I therefore get the day off. No lessons. No Oxfam. No nothing really. Please, snow some more. Then I can have tomorrow off too!