12th AUGUST, 2019 – STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN

According to the ‘rules’ all passengers had to vacate their cabins by 8.30 am. Knowing that, rather than dress for breakfast in the Atlantide dining room, we opted for another breakfast in our suite. It made for a much more relaxed end of the cruise. Pedro, our cabin’s Butler, spread the white linen table cloth and dressed the plates and silver to his usual quiet perfection. After our quiet, private repast, we freshened up and packed our toiletries into our ‘carry-on’ bags. Our suitcases had been packed, tagged with our labels, and collected overnight from the corridor outside the cabin.

We waited to hear the call for ‘pink luggage tags’ and made our way down to the deck three gangway. We collected our bags and within 5 minutes a taxi loaded them into the boot and took us to our Stockholm stay, The Victory Hotel. This boutique hotel is one of three family owned hotels in ‘Gamla Stan’, the old city. They all share a similar theme, nautical history, particularly related to Lord Nelson. The other two hotels are the ‘Lord Nelson’ and the ‘Lady Hamilton’. All three hotels are historical museums, containing a large number of fascinating historic nautical items. Our hotel even has an original letter from Lord Nelson to Lady Hamilton on display.

We arrived at the hotel just before 10 am on Sunday morning. Everything in the streets around the hotel was deserted as the taxi made its way there. We weren’t expecting our room to be ready, but we were at least optimistic that it wouldn’t be an inordinate wait. So, it came as a shock to be told that the room was unlikely to be available until 3 pm! We arranged to leave our luggage and set off to walk around the old town to find some of the restaurants we had earmarked as serving fine traditional Swedish cuisine.

The old town is very small and easily navigated with the clear, helpful local map. But it seemed a daunting task to fill potentially five hours on foot in almost deserted streets. In a very short time we’d found two of our chosen restaurants, each of them within a five minute walk from our centrally-located hotel. What to do for the next four and a half hours? However, we should have savoured our solitude. It was short lived! The tour busses soon flooded the old town with flag-carrying clusters of loud, jabbering, selfie taking philistines.

Thinking we’d try to to find our third restaurant choice, we followed the map off Gamla Stan’s small island, across a main bridge to Nytorvet. As we made our way across the bridge, we struggled against a tide of local Swedes making their way to Gamla Stan! It proved to be a very long walk. But we had plenty of time on our hands. When we found the restaurant, it was obvious that it was too far for us to go for dinner, especially when there were better alternatives so close to us. But the residential area around Nytorvet was quite fascinating in its own way. We found ourselves at a church surrounded by an ancient cemetery. Reading the tombstones was a sad reflection of the people and the lives they lived, some of them distressingly short.

Our next objective was to find the Nordisk department store. However that required us to backtrack all the way to Gamla Stan then, just as far again, across a bridge, over on the other side! When we returned to the old town, the air was filled with very nearly as many selfie sticks as there were people on the ground! We threaded our way through the throng until we found our way to Nordisk. On the way, as we walked along a wide tree-lined walking precinct, we heard a marching military band approaching. Despite the opportunistic obstruction of a Hop-on-Hop-off bus partly blocking their path, the band masterfully marched past, followed by a large troop of soldiers in striking bright blue uniforms, wearing highly polished silver pickle-helms with gold badges and trims.

They were marching towards the Royal Palace where impressively uniformed soldiers stood guard. We could only assume this was to be part of a ceremonial changing of the guard. But we had our other goal already close and, in any event, we were too fatigued to try to follow them. We spent the next hour or more in the department store. But we allowed ourselves the luxury of a coffee and pastry to revive our flagging energy levels!

While we were inside, heavy rain had fallen outside. We’ve been very fortunate with the weather so far. This was only the second day of rain we’ve experienced. But the rain held off as we walked back to The Victory Hotel. It was such a relief to settle into our room! The concierge arranged our reservation for dinner at the “Kryp In”, a traditional Swedish restaurant with some very good reviews. Their signature dish was succulent roast reindeer! For goodness sake, please don’t tell Santa!!

After such a long day on our feet, it is so relaxing to be back in our room watching the news (unfortunately only from America!) and sipping a glass of wine. As we sat, a soft knock came on our door. With some surprise, we partly opened the door to find that we were given a tray with two glasses, chocolates and a small bottle of port. The serving girl explained it was a welcoming ‘night cap’. What an unexpected quality touch!

RESTAURANT KRYP IN – Prastgaten, 17, Gamle Stan

We ate a wonderful meal here. It was even better than we had expected. We started off with the two types on herrings served with Swedish akvavit. We loved the way that they served the snaps in a snaps glass immersed in a larger glass full of ice. What a great idea and I will incorporate it. The herrings were served Swedish style with potatoes and cheese and they were simply wonderful. Our main course was reindeer meat. I hadn’t anticipated that it would be so tender and flavoursome. It was superb. What a fabulous meal!

13th August, 2019

Our first mission of the day was to dispose ourselves of as much surplus clothing as possible. Spending nearly three weeks aboard the Silver Spirit, necessitated a more formal wardrobe than we would be requiring for the rest of our trip. There were also a few gifts and souvenirs that added to the bulk. I had originally planned to send an entire suitcase back to Australia unaccompanied, but ultimately decided that it would prove too problematic. Conveniently, there was a Post Office almost opposite to our hotel, so we packed up three boxes weighing 15 kilos in all, and mailed them to ourselves in Australia. We had packed one smaller suitcase inside a larger one, Babushka style, thinking that this would be useful as we acquired more possessions along the way. Yet with only one month away from home and with more than two more to go, we were already thoroughly sick of luggage. So we wisely located a charity store and dragged not one, but two empty suitcases half way across Stockholm to get rid of them. Along the way we admired some lovely Swedish Architecture and at the Royal Palace we were impressed with the way Swedes dealt with security bollards.

DEN GYLDENE FREDEN

The Den Gyldene Freden is the oldest restaurant in Sweden, operating in the same building since 1722. It means the Golden Peace and the food was great. We ate downstairs in the cellar, an atmospheric, cave-like space. We watched the table nearest us, with perverse fascination, as a family group of three Chinese tourists sat eerily illuminated by the lights of their individual iPhones for a full hour without exchanging a single word with each other and without making any eye contact at all. Barry had the traditional meatballs with lingonberries and I had the Torsk (cod), another delicious meal.

14th AUGUST, 2019

C and C Restaurant

This was another restaurant only a few minutes walk from The Victory Hotel. We chose this restaurant because of the regional game served here. We both started with a wonderful, full of flavour, wild mushroom soup. I had the roast Elk main course and Barry chose the wild Boar. Each meal was quite delicious but both of us concluded that nothing compared to that first delicious meal of Reindeer in Stockholm.

However, restaurants aside, class, culture and architecture aside, the most memorable, poignant and impressive experience for each of us in Stockholm was a visit to the Vasa Museum. The Vasa ship is the most completely and amazingly preserved Swedish warship from 1628. It sank on its maiden voyage, only 1500 metres from where it was launched. Sadly, to celebrate its construction and in gratitude to the workers, it was crowded with families, women and children as well as officials. All the gun ports were open. A gust of wind caused it to heel over. Perhaps it had insufficient ballast to keep it upright. Whatever the explanation, water flooded in through the open gun ports and the ship sank with all on board. It is said that a fleet of spectator boats rescued many of the survivors. But some, well below decks, never escaped. Their skeletons are on display in the museum, many with amazing life-like facial reconstructions allowing us to look into their eyes. There were shoes, personal items and fragments of clothing, all remarkably preserved in the anaerobic environment on the seabed. The ship was rediscovered in 1951 and was re-floated (yes, actually re-floated!) in an amazing engineering feat that took place in the 1960’s. It has taken many decades of careful preservation and intense marine archaeological research to get it to where it stands today. It truly is one of the archaeological wonders of the world. It truly is a must-see for anyone visiting Sweden.

15th AUGUST, 2019 – PARIS, FRANCE

I had pre-booked a Paris Pass which promised to make travelling and visiting museums much easier. We arrived at the bus depot to have our tickets validated and found a long line snaking out into the street. It probably took an hour, but once done we went straight out the front and boarded the hop-on-hop-off bus for a two hour tour of the glorious city. Paris is my favourite city in the world and this was my sixth visit. Every time that I have arrived here, I have completed the same ritual and it continues to take my breath away. The Louvre, Tuileries Gardens, Arc de Triomphe – it all dazzles me. Then, of course, there are the magnificent statues of Joan, Kings, angels, fountains and much more.

We stayed in the wonderful Clef du Louvre hotel, just a few hundred metres from the iconic Louvre Museum, in a beautifully restored building reeking of luxury and privilege. When I stayed in Paris with Leonie over 20 years ago, we shared a tiny room with views over the rooftops. The only way we could get to the bathroom was by climbing over the beds. Thirteen years ago, I took Rebecca to Paris, at that time we stayed in the same Louvre vicinity and although the room was of a higher standard, it wasn’t very much bigger than the one I stayed in with Leonie. Six years ago, I came to Paris with Kerry, that time we rented an “Air BnB” near the Montmartre Cemetery. It was more spacious, but the downside was that it was a long way from everything else and, consequently, we spent a lot of time in the Metro. The Clef du Louvre had it all. It was not only spacious, with its own living room, but it also had a well provisioned kitchenette complete with dishwasher and washing machine. It was perfect!

Our first meal in Paris was at Bofinger. We had gone out on reconnaissance so that we would know where to go ahead of time, but we became disoriented and ended up walking for over an hour before we found it. By that time we only had an hour to kill before our reservation time, so rather than go back to the hotel we walked around the corner to a street side cafe and enjoyed a cooling Aperol Spritz while admiring the Bastille Monument and the fascinating people-watching experience.

We arrived at the restaurant unfashionably early and found ourselves eating with primarily young families. Unperturbed, we enjoyed our meal very much. Barry was delighted with the Alsatian fare on offer, (pork knuckle, sausage and sauerkraut!) and I had the delicious duck. We had finished off a bottle of wine between us at dinner, and coupled with the pre-dinner drink, Barry had had more to drink than I’d ever seen him consume before, so we decided that the long walk home would be a good idea.

16th AUGUST, 2019

I have been travelling for over fifty years now. During that time tourism has developed in epidemic proportions. As international travel has become more affordable, the behaviour of travellers has declined. The new ‘privileged’ class wants everyone to witness this miracle of Capitalism. Self-obsessed visitors from every corner of the globe are spending their time taking endless ‘selfies’ against the backdrop of all the wonders of the world. Rather then spending even the most fleeting of moments savouring landmarks, these people are forever pouting, posing and primping in front of the ‘stage set’ rather than take a single photograph with their own eyes. The discourtesy shown to fellow travellers and locals alike, beggars belief. At the Musee d’Orsay they hogged every exhibit, not by admiring the works of the Masters’ but taking endless photographs of each other blocking everyone else’s view (selfie sticks are thankfully banned), but also by obscuring the view of the works by taking close-up shots of them, over and over and over again.

This obsessive behaviour doesn’t stop at galleries and monuments. In restaurants, not only is the place setting photographed, but so too the menu, the pre-dinner drink, and every subsequent food course. Rarely is there even a semblance of conversation between visiting diners, instead, there is checking of emails and face-books posts, responding to Instagram approval and admiring all their own photographs. In Gallérie Lafayette, the oldest and grandest department in Paris, I even saw women taking selfies in the ladies toilets!

Despite all that, it was delightful to be in the Musee d’Orsay again. The Paris Pass came into its own as we skipped the long lines and were ushered into a separate entrance, through security and were admiring the art in less than five minutes. Yet to have one of the greatest collections of Impressionist art in the world at your disposal can be overwhelming. It was a treat to view Sacre Cour through the clock and to discover an artwork that suddenly moved me. ‘Jerusalem’ was one such painting.

Also having to cope with the rude behaviour of other tourists and the often extremely crowded conditions made it a bit of an ordeal. After a few hours, the sensory overload left us feeling exhausted. It was almost with a sigh of relief that we left the building and took a leisurely stroll across the bridge and through the grounds of the Louvre to our hotel.

We dressed up for our wonderful splurge night in a Michelin star restaurant with ‘reach out and touch’ Eiffel Tower views from the terrace restaurant L’Oiseau Blanc at the Peninsula Hotel. We took our first and only metro ride using our Paris Pass but the labyrinth of tunnels under the Arc de Triomphe left us wondering if we would ever find our way out, but of course we did. When we eventually arrived at the hotel, I was devastated to discover that the restaurant had closed for the summer. I had made a reservation three months in advance and had exchanged several emails with the ‘hostess’ who assured me that we would get a special table by the window with spectacular views. To their credit, the hotel did their best to accommodate us. They organised a booking at Monsieur Bleu where there was no view and the service was surly and appalling. Nonetheless, the food was good.

Afterwards we went on a night cruise of the Seine. It was so packed tight with tourists that I was afraid that we were being sent to Belsen. The lights of Paris were lovely but we were squeezed in between rowdy bogans (some threw their empty water bottles at bridges as we passed under them) and there was a chill in the air. When we got back to the hotel there was a bottle of chilled champagne waiting for us and an abject letter of apology from the hotel. Apparently the Peninsula had contacted them and chided them for not passing on the message that the restaurant that we had booked was closed.

• 

17th AUGUST, 2019 – PARIS

I had been sick with a cold for the last week of our cruise. When Barry woke up this morning he realised that he had finally succumbed. We had planned to go to Versailles but decided that it would be better if he laid low in the hotel room and I would go shopping. We had seen enough opulence in Russia to last a life time and health was more important than ticking off all the items on a tourist list. So I went to Galleries Lafayette and Printemps. I had been looking at a Boss (for women) outfit all around Scandinavia. Red, red, red. I looked at every other available outfit in these two stores and saw nothing else that even close. I bought it. It was obscenely expensive, but so is this trip. We had noticed that a lot of the restaurants and hotels near us had become Japanese, but walking up to Haussmann, I became aware that Japanese businesses went for more than a mile in every direction. Many of the boulangeries and charcuteries that I had earmarked to visit were gone and in their place stood sushi and karoke bars. It felt rather sad and was a peculiar discovery. Unlike many other tourists, especially Asian tourists, the Japanese tend to have a muted presence and are not in the least intrusive or ill mannered, yet they must be around in large numbers to warrant such amount of infrastructure catering almost exclusively to them.

We went to a magnificent food hall and purchased an array of charcuterie, cheese, bread and wine and had a wonderful picnic dinner in our room. What a lovely way to end a lovely day.

18th AUGUST, 2019 – PARIS

I absolutely love Paris. I love the architecture, the art, the gardens, the language and the food. I so admire French women: pre-teens, teens, young women, middle-aged women and elderly women are all impeccably turned out with an understated simplicity that exudes sophistication and style. No garish hairstyles, crass fashion or bling to be seen anywhere near them.

I took another walk up to the department stores and found myself a little disoriented (yes, I got lost!). Yet I was delighted to discover more hidden gardens, delightful squares with lovely statues and fountains and buildings that simply made me gasp aloud at the wonderful beauty of architecture.

I wanted to claim my duty free entitlement rather than be troubled with the tedious exercise at departure in the airport. I’m sure that Gallérie Lafayette greatly increases their custom by offering this service. I had noticed so many Chinese tourists lining up to get into the serious name brand departments for handbags and other luxury items, but now, clearly exhausted and waiting for their special tour busses to retrieve them, they just flopped with their bags wherever they could find a spot, usually in stairways.

We took a lovely stroll around one of my favourite districts of Paris, the Marais. Formerly the Jewish Quarter and full of lovely little squares, the wonderful Place des Vosges and so many wonderful nooks and crannies and secret gardens.

On our final night in Paris we had an absolutely perfect meal at the Paul Bocuse restaurant at the Hotel Louve, only fifty meters from our hotel. I had snails and his signature quenelle and Barry had a Caesar salad followed by a most magnificent ‘heart of beef’. No, it wasn’t ‘heart’ which he wanted to confirm with the waiter, but rather fillet steak, cut in a manner we were not accustomed to. Under the tutelage of our charming and efficient waiter, we selected a Crozes Hermitage to drink with dinner and, as with every single bottle of wine we’ve consumed in France, it was outstanding!

After dinner, emboldened by the lovely wine, we tangoed around the grounds of the almost deserted Louvre, before returning to our hotel and doing our final packing for Lyon. How I love Paris!

19th AUGUST, 2019 – LYON

The last time I had been in Lyon was with Kerry and we had stayed in the most amazing apartment in the old town, full of creepy dark halls, incredible architectural features, enormous solid doors, long dark passageways and fabulous staircases. I had tried to book the same amazing apartment, but without any luck. So we stayed in the more commercial Presqu’île region in a lovely Sofitel hotel overlooking the square of BelleCour. On our first day we took a leisurely stroll over to the old town and it was so pleasing to be able to find the unimposing door that led to the wonderful apartments that Kerry and I shared. It is amazing that those not in the know would have no idea as to the splendours that lay behind that door.

We had dinner in the Silk Brasserie attached to Sofitel along the river Saône. We were astounded that the table of three next to us included a dog. Like all of the French dogs we have seen, it was absolutely adored, had fluffy, just washed fur but was not particularly well behaved. The dog was on a leash but was only a puppy and the owner had a bit of trouble restraining it and making it lie down. Earlier in the day we had seen a similarly loved little leashed dog being almost devoured by a huge Great Dane. The slightly built young woman who owned the Great Dane tried to wrestle it to the ground and away from the smaller dog. It took the assistance of passers by before the vicious skirmish could be contained. Dogs are seen everywhere: at train stations, on trains, in department stores, in the middle of the road following bicycles, they trot along behind their owners imperiously and no one blinks an eye.

20th AUGUST, 2019 – LYON, FRANCE

We woke to a rainy day in Lyon. Looking out of our window, all across the square, umbrella wielding residents scurried from one side to the other. The ‘Le Royal’ Hotel also serves as a training school for the Paul Bocuse Institute. Unfortunately, like apparently seventy percent of all restaurants across France, their primary restaurant was closed for the month of August. Yet the breakfast was the very best we’ve had in France. The croissants were incredibly flakey, the fruits plentiful and varied and they prepared an excellent omelette. Not only that, but the service was superb.

Despite the weather we decided to go walking. We wanted to investigate a Bouchon (a local restaurant that specialises in Lyonese cuisine) and I had heard that ‘Le Musee’ was one of the very best. Once again we were disappointed to discover the sign in the window advising us that they were closed for the summer and would reopen on 27th August. Unperturbed, we decided that a perfect way to spend a rainy day was with a visit to the Fine Arts Museum. Despite the rain and the construction works, winding our way through the interesting streets (like Paris, it seemed that half the streets were undergoing major reconstruction) was an absolute pleasure. The quality of the street sculptures, fountains and architecture was every bit as impressive as in Paris, albeit on a smaller scale.

The square that houses the Fine Arts Museum is also home to the magnificent Town Hall of Lyon and in the square itself, despite the reconstruction work somewhat spoiling the view, the powerful statue of the ‘Place Des Terreaux’, created by the same artist who sculpted the Statue of Liberty, is an incredible feast for the eyes. But we were out of luck again! In front of the museum the sign advised us that the museum was closed on Tuesdays!

Back at the hotel, we struck gold when we enlisted the assistance of the concierge to assist us in finding a Bouchon in which to eat that night. The first thing that struck us about the ‘V’ was that we were the only non-locals there. The second thing to notice was the professionalism of the wait staff. As the night progressed and we worked our way through our €39 three course dinner, we came to realise that this was arguably the best meal that either of us had eaten ever. In the same way as it is impossible to convey the splendour of the Norwegian fiords with mere photography (it must be experienced) so too is it impossible to describe the taste sensations that we were fortunate enough to enjoy. Barry started with a ‘meat pie’, a ridiculously inadequate translation for the most exquisite slice of terrine encased in pastry. I had the most curious ‘carp’ dish that I would never have picked as fish had I not read the menu. This was followed by suckling pig for Barry and a boned and stuffed chicken for me. Once again, I can’t even begin to attempt to describe the delicious flavours and perfect accompaniments. For dessert Barry had crème brûlée while I had an iced Cointreau parafait. If this entire experience wasn’t perfect enough, after dinner the chef, replete with his red, white and blue ribbon around his neck, came out to personally greet us and to shake our hands. A truly remarkable and memorable evening.

21st AUGUST, 2019 – LYON AND ARLES, FRANCE

I allayed my disappointment of not being able to visit the Fine Art Museum the day before with the knowledge that as our train to Arles wouldn’t leave until 13:20, there would still be time to pay it a short visit in the morning. The sun was shining warmly and the blue sky created a perfect backdrop for the ‘’ white church up on the hillside overlooking the entire town. To enter the huge wooden doors of the museum was to enter a tranquil setting of perfectly maintained gardens, outdoor sculptures and seating. Through the courtyard we entered another building and subsequently spent some time admiring the incredible sculptures in the basement before ascending the stairs to a collection of primarily Impressionist works that far surpassed my expectations. Best of all, we were almost alone and there wasn’t a single tourist or camera in sight! So we were able to enjoy a collection of Manet, Monet, Ingres, Matisse, Renois, Degas, Rembrandt, Gaugin, to name just some of the works, that would have people lining up way down St. Kilda Road if it ever visited Australia. I vowed that this was the way I would forever view European Art, visiting the Art Galleries of lesser towns rather than enduring the claustrophobia of crowds in Paris.

As everywhere else in France, the police/army presence is ever present, at train stations, areas where large groups of tourist congregate, parks and public places. I have felt absolutely safe here, I haven’t been hassled by beggars, toutes and other nuisances.

• 

• 

•