TravelStream™ news feed for member grindelwalders on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/grindelwalders en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Tue, 28 Apr 2009 16:05:01 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/3/1240947180/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/3/1240947180/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/3/1240947180/tpod.html Tue, 28 Apr 2009 16:05:01 -0400 FOOTLOOSE IN EUROPE

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Riomaggiore, Italian Riviera, Italy

Our trail in the Cinque Terre is to be seen on the DVD Footloose in Italy available from Amazon.co.uk
Filming Diary: September 2004 Reaching the Cinque Terre was not difficult - we based ourselves in La Spezia, so took the airport shuttle from the airport at Genoa into the city, to the train station. I didn't find the Genoese very smiley; an old woman took violent exception to our suitcases on the airport bus and I never found out why. I couldn't get a word in edgewise in the torrent of abuse in Italian, and obviously never got my point across that you would expect suitcases on an airport shuttle as that would appear to be its function. So I retreated behind my sunglasses and aloof Britishness whilst she muttered aggressively at my profile the entire journey. The train station was a lofty busy place, and we found our train for La Spezia - one which had a double decker observation carriage and did not object to suitcases. There are glimpses of the coastline along the way, although the journey seemed to take an inordinate amount of time, stopping at every available halt along the line. Our hotel was the other end of the town from the train station at La Spezia, near the waterfront and we took a taxi. The following day we took a boat to Portovenere to check the times of the boats to the first of the villages, Rio Maggiore and have a look round. It's a lovely town, and with brilliant blue sky, sunshine and crystal clear sea, it isn't hard to do research. The tall narrow houses were all painted with different faded colour washes and huddled together along the waterfront. It was very busy, boats coming and going the whole time, even in late September, but there was room for everyone. We explored La Spezia in the evening; although not a tourist resort per se, it had a lively pedestrianised street that led up towards the train station from the waterfront with street cafes and restaurants, but they did close early - end of the season perhaps? We started filming the next day, under glorious skies. As the boat approaches Riomaggiore, you get a wonderful overview of the village, clinging precariously to the land, built around an inventively covered ravine. It was busy and colourful and lots of different accents on street level; up above you heard the native Italian amidst the washing lines and open casement windows. The first part of the walk is the Via del Amore, which is easy and paved and takes about 40 minutes to walk around the edge of the land to the next village. It was busy, but there was plenty of room and wheelchairs and baby buggies shared the path with the walking boots and flip-flops. I wasn't fooled though; I knew this was the easy bit and that it would get progessively harder as we walked through the vineyards and along dry stone walls. We chose the lower coastal route because it offered (we thought) the better views and more linear route - but there are plenty of other walking paths of varying degrees of difficulty higher up the cliffs, and through the higher terraces. All along the top of the cliffs there are sanctuaries and villages that you can visit, and the National Park green buses also run between them. All of the five villages are picturesque and lovely and walking between them was a treat. The sun was hot but the breeze from the sea kept me comfortable, and on this trip I had opted for sandals rather than boots to keep my feet cool. It was busy everywhere, and the coastal trains were frequent, passing for the most part within the mountains as they plied between the villages and La Spezia and other large towns. I can't imagine what it must be like in high season - that's when the locals apparently leave for their holidays, many renting out their properties for tourists. The history of the Cinque Terre is interesting and unique, and the National Park is doing a terrific job of maintaining it's heritage and promoting it at the same time. I think I liked Vernazza the most because it was the only village with a piazza, which was wonderful at sunset; but Monterosso had the beaches, and is bigger altogether with a virtual aquarium and shops. We interviewed a local family that owned a waterfront restaurant, and I was particularly charmed by Santina, the tiny matriarch. The food was truly excellent and the wine very drinkable, which is why we caught the train back to La Spezia.

We took longer to walk the paths because we film at snail's pace, but it is possible to do all of the villages in one day, but why would you want to? One young lady passed us running - think of what she missed in her quest to spend the least amount of time on those paths overlooking the unbelievably blue sea? True hikers from any country uphold the international etiquette of walking, but there were coachloads of in this case American college kids, who had the impatience of youth and barged along single tracks over dry stone walls with a substantial drop without a by-your-leave or an excuse me, or waiting for the walker actually on the path to reach them before starting out. The beauty of our pace is that everyone just passes us by and leaves us behind so there were times on such a highly popular route that we were on our own. We spent a week in the region, which is probably enough for a normal tourist who actually gets to shop and go into museums!


Our trail in the Cinque Terre is to be seen on the DVD Footloose in Italy available from Amazon.co.uk
Visit our website for more "Footloose" destinations www.grindelwald.co.uk
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/3/1240945380/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/3/1240945380/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/3/1240945380/tpod.html Tue, 28 Apr 2009 15:29:59 -0400 FOOTLOOSE IN EUROPE

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Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain

Our DVD Footloose in Spain is available from Amazon.co.uk
Filming Diary: June 2007. Barcelona is a wonderful city, it really is. The moment you get there, you just heave a sigh of relaxation - the air is fresh, the sunshine is warm and dry, the sea is aqua and the streets are wide and airy. I loved the city; and the feel of it. It has a real personality, and combines such startling contrasts, perhaps more so than any other European city. The atmosphere is vibrant, it's an emotional city. I saw more lovers - young and old - there than I ever saw in Paris. We stayed in a great hotel built over the railway station - not a bit noisy - soooo handy for the Metro, and open-top tour buses stopped just outside. It is essentially a maritime capital of a nation of sailors and merchants - a Mediterranean city. We met Maria Albacar, a mature tourism official who exuded warmth and hospitality, and a genuine love for her home city. She reminded me forcibly of my best friend Margarita, who will hate me because she's Castilian. Everywhere was in dual language - Catalan and Spanish. I don't think I had quite realised just how separate the two states really are - and then you begin to think back to the different historical kingdoms that now make up a unified Spain - an uneasy alliance, in my opinion. Their Civil War is still within living memory. But in Barcelona, it is impossible to think of anything other than enjoying yourself. We decided to follow the Modernisme trail which, although being a fairly obvious one, did take us through the parts of the city that we most wanted to see. You can't visit Barcelona without featuring Gaudi - it just can't be done, however hackneyed it is. Guell Park (pronounced Shway, which really floored me) is spectacularly strange yet curiously compelling. Amazing structures and pathways, with some truly lovely ceramic work - I particularly liked the dragon (which looked more like a lizard to me) guarding a staircase. There is a great straggle of craft stalls there, near to the Serpentine benches, which you have to sit on. It's a photographer's dream - so many different angles that give an entirely different twist to the picture, if you'll pardon the pun. As gaudy (sorry) as it is, you love it, but finding a quiet spot to do a piece to camera link is almost impossible - it's so popular.
Then you walk out of the park, following the trail down towards the Sagrada Familia, at the northernmost stretch of the wide boulevard called Diagonal, at the end of Avinguda de Gaudi. There isn't that much to see on the way, and you could actually take a bus, but we didn't know that until we had walked it. It's true; we really do have to walk every step to find out there isn't much to show, so you don't have to!
The Sagrada is stunning, but I have to wonder just what Gaudi was 'on' when he conceived it. The facades are amazing - I'm not sure I can say 'beautiful' because they don't fit my idea of beautiful. To me, some of them look as though they are melting, but the detail is extraordinary. The interior is interesting but unfinished, so you navigate between huge blocks of cornices, mouldings and scaffolding that are waiting to be used. I like my architecture to be traditional, but Gaudi just knocks you sideways - and you don't mind. Dave went up the spiral staircase inside one of the soaring spires, with a fantastic view of all the weird and wonderful features that adorn the outside of the cathedral. At the other end of the Avinguda is the Hospital de Sant Pau, conceived by another Modernist, Domenech i Montaner. It is not as showy, but is decorated with ceramics and surrounded by gardens, and made it onto the UNESCO world heritage site list.
Strolling through the Eixample district (pronounced 'shamplay'), following the little red modernisme seals in the pavement, you can readily see why Barcelona wasn't devastated by plague like other European cities. The wide streets were planned with the idea of purifying sea breezes freshening the city, and although built in a grid system, the corners of the buildings are cut off. In Eixample, you can see on the facades of buildings, and also in doorways and entrances to apartment blocks and shops, lavish Modernist ornamentation which seems an exercise in Brinkmanship. Along the Passeig de Gracia the pavement slabs are decorated with swirly patterns, and the ornate lamp posts were designed by You Know Who. I loved Casa Mila - La Pedrera. It is unique and to me beautiful - the curves (representing the sea waves) are totally pleasing to the eye, and the intricately wrought balconies are supposed to be sea weed. On the roof are the most fantastic 'witch scarers'; fantasy shapes encrusted with ceramics and other materials that are lit at night. You can go up to the roof to view these close up, but be warned - the queue is long. The Passeig runs into Placa de Catalunya, a lovely green space with fountains and flowers. And across this, you enter the Ramblas.
You don't care that it is essentially a tourist trap. It's lively, full of stalls selling caged birds and bunnies to flowers and food, and halfway down is the Boqueria covered market - it has an array of colourful familiar and peculiar, apparently edible, wares that rivals the Rialto market in Venice for the vibrancy of colours. There are a whole host of silent street entertainers - again, I don't think I've ever seen so many in one place - with a variety of performances for the inevitable coin(s) in the tin. I particularly liked the 'Predator' character, whose long reptilian tongue shot out at unsuspecting tourists having their photo taken with it, and an elderly man dressed uncannily like Charlie Chaplin - I admired him for joining in.

We struck off here, through a square decorated with more of Gaudi's lamp posts into the old city that was Barcino to the Romans. Parts of the Roman walls are still visible, part of the fortifications built in the late 3rd and 4th centuries. Barcino was captured by the Moslems in the 8th century, and then by the Franks in 801 and became an outpost of Charlemagne's empire south of the Pyrenees. The whole medieval city was surrounded by walls until the mid 19th century, and the central part is known as the Gothic Quarter (Barri Gotic). It's a fabulous place to wander. I liked the gothic church of Santa Maria del Pi very much; it has a characteristic rose window and a bell tower. The Gothic Cathedral with a gaggle of geese in the centre courtyard, amused me. We strolled through the narrow streets, and then spent a happy few hours underground - at the Casa Clariana-Padelias, which houses the City History Museum, that has the most impressive Roman and Medieval remains in the city. Nearby is the Palau Reial Major in Placa del Rei, which was the residency of the Counts of Barcelona - it was also the seat of the infamous Inquisition. This quarter became the political centre of the city, and the counts created the infrastructure that would make Barcelona the capital of the Crown of Aragon. We forget all this, bathed in the balmy sunlight, but Barcelona is 2,000 years old, as Maria reminds us.

We rejoin the Ramblas, and wander on towards the last stretch before the port - Rambla de Santa Monica. It begins at the Pla del Teatre, where the old principal theatre is situated. There are still plenty of silent street entertainers as we pass the 17th century canon foundry to be greeted by the monument to Christopher Columbus, which marks the end of the promenade and the proximity of the sea. You can go up inside the column to the top, but we didn't. This stretch of seafront was not what I expected. There are some wildly modern glass and chrome buildings, with odd gigantic 'works of art' that didn't appeal to me, and a shopping centre which I didn't set foot in (gasp!). Shopping centres I can find at home. The Drassanes are the former shipyards, which bear witness to the might of the Catalan Navy and merchant fleet of the Middle Ages. Built in the 14th century, they are the largest and best preserved buildings of their kind in the world. The vast Gothic halls now house the Maritime Museum, which is next to a stretch of wall and a gateway that are all that remains of the medieval fortifications. Barcelona is one of the most important and busiest ports on the Med, and wharfs and shipyards occupy much of the sea front. A cable car takes you up to Miramar, affording stunning views of the marinas and fishing port. We are heading towards Montjuic and the end of our trail.

You can walk up the hill but it is quite a pull, and having come this far, we decided to take the ultramodern cable car to the top. It's a funny place; it houses the Military Museum (naturally) and is a fortress and not very attractive and a bit weedy, but it has the most wonderful views of the city that can't be beat. Of course, everyone knows this, so let's hope you don't get there at the same time as a coachload of snap-happy tourists, taking their group photos, all wearing the same shapeless hats. You can see the outlines of the Olympic city built in 1992, which seems a bit deserted now. Below the slopes is the Place d'Espanya, with it's two large towers inspired by the Campanile in Venice, with an avenue flanked with exhibition halls that culminates at the magnificent 'magic fountain', before the stairs that lead up to the Palau Nacional. If you do nothing else, you have to see the son-et-lumiere show of the fountain, but it is not performed every night, and only at set times, so find out before you go. It is a Wonder of the World in my opinion. It truly is magical; water cascades down lighted mini waterfalls from the terrace of the Palau to the foot of the fountain, which erupts in lighted synchronised bursts to a varied musical soundtrack. Just sit and slurp an ice-cream and get lost in it all.

Our DVD Footloose in Spain is available from Amazon.co.uk
Visit Debra and Dave's website www.grindelwald.co.uk
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/3/1240956240/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/3/1240956240/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/3/1240956240/tpod.html Tue, 28 Apr 2009 14:59:01 -0400 FOOTLOOSE IN EUROPE

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Bubion, Andalusia, Spain

DVD Available from Amazon.co.uk
Date: June 2007 We flew to Granada, at the foot of the Sierra Nevada range, and experienced the very essence of Moorish culture, distilled in the magnificent Alhambra Palace. It's a stunning place, and you can spend all day there, but some of the tickets are timed entry, which wasn't immediately obvious. Wandering around the old quarter was wonderful, and it seems that at every little cafe or bar they will give you tapas; even if you only buy a drink, out comes a little plate with something tasty (but not always recognizable) on it. We headed for the bus station, intent on reaching our real destination - the Alpujarras-Valle de Lecrin - in good time, and like all bus stations around the globe, it was chaos. Dave and I split up and walked up and down the bays looking for our bus, amidst the shouting and general hubbub of a busy terminus. We found the right bus - the driver (already wearing his shades) was standing beside the door issuing tickets. We got on, settled in our seats. He checked his watch and got in and slammed the door shut - and like all bus stations, underneath the surface chaos was a well-oiled machine, and we set off dead on time. He didn't hang about either - with the radio blaring, window and shirt open, we belted down the roads, putting the miles behind us as we started to climb into the mountains. At the various stops there was no messing - he had a schedule to keep and by Jorge, he was going to keep it. We swung around those bends as expertly as they come, although my eyes were so often shut I may have missed some of the stunning views. We were set down at the roadside in Bubion, in the Poqueira valley, a straggling village of white-painted squat houses where our accommodation Villa Turistica sat on the hillside, and we trudged with the cases up the last part of the street to the entrance. It was a miniature village, built in the local style, comprising of little apartments with separate entrances. The local authority have a strict rule - new buildings have to be made in the old style - which is utilizing the local stone, chestnut beams for the flat roofs (terraos) which are covered with a grey clay called 'launa', that looks a bit like tar. Then they are topped with the peculiar tower-like chimneys, vented at the tops and covered with a slate to prevent the rain coming in. Not that they get a lot of rain up there. The Sierra Nevadas are the next highest massif in Europe, after the Alps, and the first fall of snow is usually October, lying until May, and by August most of it will have melted. The Alpujarras became the refuge of the Moors, driven out of Grenada in the 12th century, and they settled in the high valleys, leaving their culture and their mark indelibly on the area. The architecture is Moorish, and the terraces have smooth round platforms with upturned rims for threshing that dot the hillside everywhere you look. The natural vegetation was replaced with crops and orchards that were watered by a complex system of irrigation channels called acequias, which have been preserved and surprisingly are still used extensively today.

Walking out from Bubion, up to Capileira, along the Poqueira gorge and returning on the other side to Pampaneira is one of the prettiest trails we have ever walked. The dazzlingly white villages almost recline on the slopes of the valley, and it feels as if time has stood still here. There is an abandoned village - La Cebadilla - on the way up to the hydroelectric station that has a slightly forlorn look, and the silence is enveloping. The HE station is hidden, higher up - it doesn't spoil the landscape. Wild flowers and birds are in abundance, and I don't think I've ever seen so many butterflies - it is gorgeous. The villages are sleepy, with narrow cobbled streets and airy squares, usually in front of the church, which is still the heart of the community. Bright Berber rugs are still made here and are hung on the walls with local jarapas (throws); a marvellous splash of colour, along with the pots of geraniums and bougainvillea that festoon any available window ledge or wall. In Pampaneira there are still water channels running through the streets, built by the 'moriscos' before they were driven out again centuries ago. Tapas here is likely to be of the local ham, salt-cured and hung from the beams, and the heritage of the local gastronomy is a blend of Arab butcher and Christian cuisine. A couple of popular local dishes are 'Migas de pan' (fried breadcrumbs) and 'Plato Alpujarreno' (potatoes cooked in oil with local sausage) and different soups and stews, often featuring the very scrawny looking chickens that inhabit any nook or cranny. They also have a very good local wine called 'costas'. Pampaneira is the larger of the three villages, and has a tourism office with a working loom upstairs with local artifacts. It is also where our interviewee, Epifania works; she runs a guiding company called Nevadensis with her husband, and she's a mine of local information. Being originally a Swede, she speaks perfect English.


People are friendly but there is not much English spoken up here. Orchards of apples, cherry, pears and peaches surround isolated cortijos, and many of them are fenced with old iron bedsteads and spring mattresses - waste not, want not, I suppose. We were walking in early June, and the sun was hot - we got through a lot of water. Climbing up out of Bubion (and it is a climb, however, with enormous horse flies about, I shot up that rocky vertical trail with a personal best record), there is a terrific panorama of the valleys and the National Park (a UNESCO biosphere reserve), with the peak of Mulhacen (3,483m) looming. The National Park is well worth a visit - guided tours by minibus start from Capileira. It is a fascinating place to visit, cooler of course because it is so high up, but we found it a great side-trip and break from our walking trails.

The Moors sub-divided the region into 'Tahas' based on logical geographical lines, and these persist today. The paths are waymarked, but the Spanish as a nation are not walkers, and I still maintain that there is a distinct difference between unobtrusive and invisible for waymarkers. After walking along the top of the ridge for some time, we began to descend the slopes to Pitres (a sizable village with a school) then through three villages in La Taha - Mecina, Mecinilla and Fondales, which is near the bottom of the valley and the Rio Trevelez. The villages retain their rural way of life - there are stone laundry troughs that were used until recently, and water fountains for anyone to use. The houses are still whitewashed, and we saw an older woman on the roof with a broom handle tied to a long-handled roller and a pot of whitewash, being directed by her husband who stood about on the ground. It was hotter and drier down here, and the waymarkers were hard to find. After getting directions from an old gentleman who earnestly and with great determination and attendant hand-gestures explained - I only managed to understand one word in ten - we found our route up through Ferreirola towards Busquistar, which meant 'hidden garden' in the old tongue. It was much rockier on this part, walking on paths cut into the gorge above the river. You can still see abandoned terraces and threshing platforms, and wonder at the tenacity of these isolated people. At the very top of the valley is Trevelez, where the famous jamones come from - in 1962, Queen Elizabeth II granted the town the 'royal seal' for hams produced in the region.

We sat in the shade of a chestnut tree and waited for the bus to take us back to Bubion. It didn't come. We sat a bit longer, and eventually the next one arrived and took us back. There is so much to see here, so much history, that one visit is just not long enough to take it all in. No wonder walking holidays; walking and painting; walking and photography; and other combinations prosper here - it's a jewel of a destination. We took a train to Almeria airport, through amazing countryside with walled hill towns in the distance, and wide open arid plains. It reminded us that there is so much more to Spain than just the coast and the major cities. The train was modern and comfortable, with the worst piped 'elevator muzak' I have ever heard. On we go to BARCELONA! ...see next blog
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/2/1237652040/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/2/1237652040/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/2/1237652040/tpod.html Sat, 21 Mar 2009 12:28:14 -0400 FOOTLOOSE IN IRELAND

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Dublin, County Dublin, Ireland

FOOTLOOSE IN IRELAND ..now aDVD on Amazon UK
Debra's Filming Diary ~ July, 2008 After Dingle, we felt we were comfortable with Ireland, but Dublin was vastly different. The Tourism Office is an old Anglican church, which was unusual - possibly unique in the world. The CEO of Dublin Tourism, Frank Magee, was a delight to meet and his knowledge of his business was phenomenal - and he loves his work, that much is certain, and comes across in his interview. Another delightful person we met was Pat Liddy, a well-known Irish historian and author and accomplished artist, who also clearly puts his heart and soul into informing anyone about his beloved Dublin. He also conducts walking tours, which gave us a mutual interest right from the start. The weather was not really with us; it spluttered with sunshine at intervals, but in general, it was grey skies and often rain - which makes filming hard. And it was too expensive to just while away the afternoon in the pub, waiting for the weather to break! Our hotel was entirely staffed by foreigners - Dublin boasts of being home to many nationals, but somehow I had hoped to hear Irish voices - Eastern European I can get at home. It was the same everywhere we went, the languages we heard being spoken all around us were not Irish.
The good thing about Dublin is it's a capital city but compact enough to walk through most of it. There's a lot of traffic, and I don't think I've ever seen so many municipal buses in a town before. There were thousands of the blue and yellow double-deckers; everywhere and every day. The River Liffey runs through the town, but I didn't get the impression that Dubliners were 'water' people - the river and the canals aren't really celebrated. But the Irish sense of humour is legendary, and no-where was it more apparent than with their statues. Every one has an irreverent nickname, with witty and often rude plays on words, and there are a lot of them, all over the city. They laugh at themselves, and will poke fun at the visitor, but it never seems malicious.
I was truly impressed with the relaxed attitude towards the English in general. The self confidence of Dubliners makes them appear perfectly comfortable with our 'shared history', and they can talk openly about British occupation perhaps because they don't have it anymore. I couldn't help but compare this attitude with Estonia; there the bitterness against the Russians was under the surface, never far away - but then, they've only had 17 years of freedom. I identified with them, and secretly wondered how I would feel when I visited somewhere where the English had been the occupiers. But the Dubliners didn't seem to care, and I could breathe easily immediately. Perhaps they are too busy looking to the future to be looking back at the past; you certainly get that impression. The city is booming; new development everywhere and apparently a high standard of living for everyone - and we are tourists, after all.
I thoroughly enjoyed the WW2 amphibious vehicle (DUKW) tour - it was such fun, and although my throat hurt at the end of it from make Viking roars, it was worth it. Lynn 'The Red' was awesome and witty and really made the tour fun with interesting tit-bits and irreverent asides, and I liked being a Viking. (Does this say something about me, I wonder?) I also enjoyed our side-trips to Malahide, Howth and Dun Laohaire. It was a very pleasant walk through parkland to the lovely pocket castle at Malahide. This fortified house is packed with antiques and artifacts of daily life and had been in the Talbot family for 800 years. I loved the atmosphere of the house, and the wooden panelling was spectacular - but then I love dark wood, and you had the feeling it had darkened to such a rich hue over the centuries from studious polishing with beeswax perhaps. It made you want to touch it - an impulse I have to strenuously control in museums and places that are strictly hands-off. I also enjoyed the model railway - I have a secret longing to have my own. The sea food at Howth was unbelievably good, and any stroll along the promenade of a seaside resort can always make me smile. It was all so close, and I think we could have made a separate programme about just Dublin Bay.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/2/1237665060/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/2/1237665060/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/2/1237665060/tpod.html Sat, 21 Mar 2009 11:57:00 -0400 FOOTLOOSE IN IRELAND

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Dingle, County Kerry, Ireland

FOOTLOOSE IN DINGLE ...now available as a DVD from Amazon UK
Debra's Filming Diary ~ July, 2008 We flew to Kerry on the west coast of Ireland , intending to catch the airport bus to Tralee, the county town and then on to Dingle. The bus didn't come. Five of us waited patiently, in the warm sunshine, but it still didn't come. So I enquired within, at the Information desk, and the woman behind the desk leapt into action in a froth of indignation on our behalf. She was certainly formidable, and soon we were on our way to Tralee in a taxi, the tab being picked up by the bus company and from then on, it all worked and we arrived at Dingle to be met by our guest-house lady, Maggie. The buses work, and we certainly used them, but they are not cheap. In fact, nothing in Ireland is cheap; not even the home brew. Dingle is a colourful, cheerful and thriving town. Strand Street parallels the harbour, and the sounds and cooking smells that emanate from the waterfront pubs are inviting. Dingle has about 37 pubs - it once had 52 - and it's easy to see how life revolved around them. In several of the preserved old ones, you could do your shopping on one side and then rest your weary self on the other with a pint. Mark you, the shopping would be more of a male nature - a bag of nails, a hammer or screwdriver, a pair of workboots. We sat in Foxy John's and just listened to the locals, immersing ourselves in a culture that carries on regardless. Our walks were some of the most enjoyable we've done, even though there was a lot of road walking. It has its compensations: you get on faster on even ground and don't get muddy boots, and most of the 'roads' were little more than cart tracks, so little traffic. I could not believe the hedgerows - the majority of them were made up of fuschia trees and personally, I've never seen such rampant growth - my fuschia is puny compared to these. There is abundant archeology on these hills - it's an ancient land. Part of the Dingle Way is joined by the Pilgrims' Way, near to Slea Head, with magnificent views of the coast and the Blasket Islands. It's a view you drink in time and time again, and the long 'strands' of beach are a pleasure to walk on - no wonder David Lean chose it for location shots for Ryan's Daughter.
It's an Irish-speaking area, and there is an old-world courtesy extended to those of us who haven't mastered Gaelic. You are never made to feel inadequate for not managing to curl your tongue around their language, but it is a delight to hear it spoken. The road signs are mostly dual language, but the publican John Benny Moriarty that we met explained the 'storm in a teacup' as he described it regarding the change of name of Dingle. The government decided to revert to one of its Gaelic names, and the townspeople objected. They hadn't been consulted and they weren't having anything foisted on them. They were up in arms and it made a bit of a splash in Ireland until they compromised on both Irish and English signs. But the government are slow to put Dingle back on the signs, we noticed. The people were friendly, with that direct way of speaking that denotes an openness you don't always find in other countries, but the Irish sense of humour always seems to there - whether you know it or not.
We broke one of our walks at Anascaul to go into the South Pole Inn - we'd heard about it being the home of an Antarctic explorer. The pub is a shrine to Tom Crean, a little known Irish hero and it has become the life's work of Eileen Percival (whose family now runs the pub) to make Crean's name a household word not just in Ireland but worldwide. Her passion for the subject is endearing, and you are soon drawn into hearing the story of this local lad who left home at 15 to join the British Royal Navy; a treasonous act for the Irish of the time. We couldn't resist - I'm a sucker for heroes - so we included the story in our film. It is inspiring. We walked in rain and drizzle, wind and sunshine, for you'll get all of them on any given day so you just have to get on with it. There are some wonderful drives too, if you base yourself in Dingle. The town is fun, but it is really the pubs - with their food, music and craic - that are the life of the town and on a rainy day, there isn't a lot else to do. It is a good base from which to explore the peninsula, and to carry on to the Iveragh peninsula too. There are boat trips to the Blaskets, and we took a trip out to the mouth of the harbour to look for Fungie the tame dolphin. Sure enough, he showed and it was lovely to see him, but they will refund your money if you don't see him.
The food in the pubs and restaurants is good, but the music is what the Irish really do best, and it comes from the heart. To listen to a musician like Eilis Kennedy sing unaccompanied in Irish is a pleasure that stays with you a long time and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end! The talent of these musicians is phenomenal, and considering you are hearing first-class entertainers for the price of a pint (or two...) and a meal, you'd have to travel a long way to beat that.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237585740/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237585740/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237585740/tpod.html Fri, 20 Mar 2009 17:57:28 -0400 FOOTLOOSE IN EASTERN EUROPE

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Tallinn, Estonia

FOOTLOOSE IN TALLINN ...DVD available from Amazon co.uk
Debra's Diary ~ June , 2008 Tallinn has to be the friendliest city we have visited in a long time - we were greeted at the airport by Mall, our Tourism official, with a small bouquet of cornflowers and white daisies, the colours of their national flag. And that set the tone, really. Estonia is so unashamedly basking in their identity, it makes you smile. They are so enthusiastic about showing the visitor who they are and everything there is to see. Everything is in dual language - English and Estonian, and then almost as an afterthought, Russian. They are galloping at an enormous rate away from Russia; to place as much distance economically, culturally and nationality-wise as they can - and yet they are exhibiting the kind of canniness that invented Skype: don't bury Russia, exploit it. So, there are tours around the city to show you the remnants of Russian rule; and a simple glass plaque outside the former KGB HQ, above the bricked-up basement windows where torture and execution were carried out, is chilling in its simplicity. Your imagination (and all the anti-Russian literature you have ever read) does the rest - very clever. There are other signs of cleverness too - the Baltic has been Estonia's fortune and misfortune, but a spectacularly new and shiny port complex caters to the country's biggest source of income, tourism and friendship - ferries from mostly Finland, but other Scandinavian countries too. 'Tipsy Finns' are a common sight in Tallinn, especially at the weekend, because the food is unbelievably good and like the booze, is plentiful and cheap. Tourism is embraced warmly, and unfortunately encourages further laziness as everyone speaks English - well. So well in fact, that young people in medieval dress are calling out to you to buy roasted almonds in an almost authentic medieval English accent!
Mall had organised for us to have a city guide - Giina - and we explained the route we intended to walk through the city, and what we wanted to see, over coffee in a charming little cafe hidden in a courtyard surrounded by artisans' workshops. Giina was an experienced guide, and provided us with a knowledgeable and fascinating interview, with insightful asides into life in Estonia before and after independence. Tallinn has city walls too, with appealing little red-tiled turret towers dotted along them, housing museums like Kiek in de Kok and the Maritime Museum. The old town is divided into the Upper and the Lower town, and you do have to pass through a gate to reach the upper town on the hill. It has mostly government and embassy buildings and the Alexander Nevsky Russian Orthodox church - which possesses the most impressive peal of bells that I have ever heard. Nineteen bells pealed in a complex mathematical pattern that is truly amazing to hear. The church is unmistakable - looking like a refugee from Moscow - with ornate exterior and onion domes, and serves the sizable Russian-speaking population. It isn't very popular with Estonians, and is one of the youngest buildings in the old town. Opposite it, perhaps rather unfortunately, is an 'infamous' toilet - a modern contraption bearing a passing resemblance to an old jukebox that cost the Estonian tax-payers 2 million Krune, and apparently, hardly ever works.
The lower town seems more fun, and whilst we were there, were hosting Old Town Days and rather incongruously, a modern outdoor stage set up in the market square. There were musical events with choirs and dancers, and other festival-type activities all week. The whole city was alive with marquees in parks and participants in national dress from several countries. We made a special trip to Katariina Gild because it seemed to embody the entrepreneurial spirit of this fast-growing nation. The Gild is run by women, and Pille enthusiastically explained to us how she and her colleagues stripped out the old, hastily erected interior facades that the Russians had put up to discover fantastic medieval architecture beneath. And this seems to be the trend in Tallinn - released from being just another outpost in the USSR, they are discovering their past as they slowly renovate and restore old buildings that had been neglected or misused under Communism.
You cannot escape this business of Russian rule; Estonia gained independence only 17 years ago, and the first few of those were nervous. The small Museum of Occupation is a real eye-opener. This had a different feel to Eastern Bloc satellite countries - this had actually been part of the Soviet Union. Forced deportation of Estonians and forced importation of Russians left the country with 40% of its population Russian, and the stark evidence is exhibited in this museum. Videos in Engish and Russian play at the visitor's instigation, showing Estonians talking about their experiences. Empty suitcases ring the central hall as a sobering reminder of all those political arrests - echoing the poignancy of the bronze shoes scattered along the Danube in Budapest of the lost Jewish deportees. To understand the Estonians' sense of release, you have to visit this museum. Estonia was occupied by the Nazis for a couple of years during WW2, so Hitler gets a mention as well.
Tallinn is a windy city and once out of the welcome sunshine, the air is cold, straight off the Baltic. You are further north than you realise. The trams are packed and rattle their way to Kadriorg and the beach, but there are plenty of them. Buses will take you out of the city on a tour to the Open Air Museum or the Song Festival Grounds. I found the idea of the Song Festivals intriguing; this is apparently a singing nation. In fact, they call their independence the Singing Revolution - under Soviet rule they were not allowed to have a national anthem, and the festivals had a heavily Russian bias, but the Estonians slipped in here and there, their own folk songs which were kept alive by Finnish radio. 'My Fatherland' has a haunting melody that the Finns liked as well. It was in the Festival grounds that 300,000 Estonians (this is not a huge populace) gathered in 1989 to sing 'My Fatherland' before their emissaries informed Moscow that they wished to be free. Mall's by now legendary efficiency had arranged for us to meet and hear Bonzo, a national pop/folk star, who sang 'My Fatherland' at the grounds. Knowing all the background, I found it very moving, and was surreptitiously wiping my eyes and sniffing hurriedly into my handkerchief as he sang; simply and unaccompanied.
If you have the time, and are slightly off-the-wall (like us), go and find the Maritime Museum's museum ships. Not only is the walk past the enormous decaying Soviet era Festival Hall and the boarded-up (only recently vacated) prison, complete with watch-towers, by the sea fascinating, you pass some of the original old wooden houses that Tallinn was once famous for. In the shadow of yet another enormous (they certainly believed in big) empty hangar-like boatshed that is a listed building (but they don't know what to do with it) are the museum ships. Even if you aren't particularly nautical they are interesting, and it really is the one and only time anyone will ever get me in a submarine.
In the swanky new port there is an old restaurant ship, and we spent our last night having dinner on board, as we had ended our walking trail at the port. It didn't really get dark until about 11pm, which rather extends your filming day a bit, despite attempts to track time to be able to clock-off. Luckily hunger came to the rescue on that head, but it was weird walking back to the hotel still wearing sunglasses at 10pm. And the only time it rained was on the morning of our flight back to the UK

Find out more about our "Footloose" films from our website www.grindelwald.co.uk
Take a look at our feature page: FOOTLOOSE IN TALLINN or even buy a DVD from Amazon.co.uk!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237598700/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237598700/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237598700/tpod.html Fri, 20 Mar 2009 17:35:58 -0400 FOOTLOOSE IN EASTERN EUROPE

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Dubrovnik, Croatia

FOOTLOOSE IN DUBROVNIK ...now available as a DVD from Amazon.co.uk
Debra's Diary ~ May , 2008 Dubrovnik is a jewel - it really is. When your airport shuttle bus takes you around the corner on the coast road and you get your first glimpse of it, it is breathtaking. It disappears again with the bends in the roads, and then there it is again, and now you are ready for it. I had seen the photographs of those tightly-packed terracotta roofs against that gorgeous sea, like most people, for years, but somehow you can't quite believe that it really is as beautiful as the photos - believe it. I was excited about the coming shoot - Maja in the Tourist Office had done a great job and we were all set with our interviews - the sun was shining, the sea was perfect, what could go wrong? Well, the worst possible thing really. Dave lost his passport. On the first day, right there in the bus turnaround, just outside the city walls. Must have been there, as we didn't discover it until we had taken another bus and arrived at our hotel in Lapad. Through the bus windows we saw the new harbour - Gruz - and in it one of the restored Argosy galleons in full sail - what a magnificent sight it was - all you needed was the cannons blazing and you could be right back in the Ragusan Empire days. Except they didn't have diesel buses. They did have Police Stations then, complete with dungeons, but we stayed on the ground floor of the one we had to go to, to report the loss of the passport. We could have made an entertaining short documentary in the Police Station alone. We sat on plastic chairs against the wall in the lobby, opposite the glassed-in office, speaking not one word of Croatian, and waited our turn. An altercation was taking place (in the lobby) which seemed to have captured the attention of every police officer in the place. A man and a woman, plus another man in sports gear, were fiercely arguing, apparently referee'd by a policeman who bore more than a passing resemblance to the Hood in Thunderbirds, surrounded by no less than five other policemen at any one time. Everyone smoked, the Hood nodding sagely a lot of the time, and as the spectating policemen ebbed and flowed, each in turn would add their comments, watched in fascination by us and boredom by the desk officer, behind the glassed-in counter. Eventually the Hood threw down his cigarette dramatically, ground it out with the heel of his shoe, and then spoke at length and presumably eloquently, with attendant hand gestures. No-one interrupted, and then the five policemen wandered off, the man and the woman and the sportsman trailed off, and the bored policeman at the desk put his cigarette out, got up and came out of his office and approached us to ask in perfect English what we wanted. We met Maja at the cafe on Luza Square - it has been a meeting place in Dubrovnik for decades, and everyone knows it. From the terrace you can watch the steady stream of people strolling the shiny pavement of the Stradun. Maja was a mature professional, and had that easy efficiency that only decades in her profession and skin can achieve, so we planned the interview with her boss the next morning, and she commiserated with us over the loss of the passport, and instantly organised an appointment with the Honorary British Consul in Dubrovnik, Sara. The thing about Dubrovnik Old Town is that it is an inhabited monument, so everyone knows everyone else (like Venice, its main maritime rival). Sara was a seasoned professional as well, and once she and Dave discovered a mutual employment history at the BBC, we spent a very enjoyable hour reminiscing about live TV and the behind-the-scenes experiences. Both Sara and Maja were convinced the passport would be handed in, so although Maja arranged for Dave to have passport photos taken and he filled in paperwork, Sara said she would not issue the temporary passport until the end of the week, to give it time for it to be handed in. Knowing this was unlikely we left the Consulate and determined to put it behind us and concentrate on the job in hand. We did a recce of the town.
Next morning it was windy - fairly sunny but very windy. The spot where we had chosen to do the interview was perfect to show the harbour as a backdrop to our speaker, who only had an hour. There was no time to move to somewhere else, so we interviewed poor Jelke, the Director of Tourism in Dubrovnik, in something just short of a howling gale. Then we were free to let loose with the camera. If you do nothing else in Dubrovnik, you should traverse the city walls. They are totally intact, and the views are panoramic and wonderful. The sea is so clear, so blue (almost turquoise) and you can lean on a parapet and just sink into the history of the place. Although no longer called Ragusa, or an independent maritime Republic that rivalled Venice, the sense of being in a unique place is really there.
The Restoration after the Homeland War in the early nineties is superb, flawless even, and it was meant to be. Whereas Wawel Castle in Krakow decided to leave its repairs visible, Dubrovnik has restored and replaced almost completely without sign. The patina on the old roof tiles cannot be immediately reproduced, of course, but the masonry has been re-sculpted and replaced seamlessly. We spent a fascinating several hours with the Director of the Institute for Restoration - Mrs. Jemo - learning about how and why the restoration was so exact. St. Blaize, the patron saint of the city, was always painted with a model of the city in his hands, which served as a perfect blue-print for the city fathers when they re-constructed the city after the first earthquake in 1667, 1979 and after the Homeland War in 1991.
The Croatians' pride in their city is not just civic duty, it is really heartfelt. They can become misty-eyed talking about it and the longer you are exposed to it, the more you feel protective of it too. The city is spotless; a lot of people smoke but there are no cigarette butts squashed on the shiny pavement, no litter. Children whizz about on their bikes and play football where they can, and only seem to appear at dusk, rather like Venice, when the cruise ship tourists have left and they can take back their city for themselves. There are a lot of cruise ships; if you get four or five anchored in either harbour, that could mean 20,000 people throughout the day disgorging into a pocket-sized medieval city. There are plans afoot to try to limit the number of ships arriving in a day to three, which should help the congestion. But if it is busy in the city, there are other places to go - we walked from Lapad, and although part of the walk is beside the road, lots of it isn't and there are few tourists on secluded beaches. Lapad is frequently served by buses (we used numbers 4 and 6) and there are always taxis, as well as Shank's pony. The beaches are nice, and there are always boat trips to the islands. In fact, taking one is a good way to get a perspective on the city walls - from the sea, they look impregnable, and you can imagine how important that image was to medieval mercenaries who fancied their chances on a raid.
We were wrong - Sara and Maja were right; the passport was handed in (has to be the most honest city we've ever been to) and we made another trip to the same Police Station to retrieve it. On the way, I heard the first hint from Dave that the losing of the passport might just conceivably be my fault (as I was holding the offending jacket between buses), which I hotly disputed, probably to anyone who spoke English's amusement. The Police Station clearly is the setting for spirited debate. On our last day (still speaking) we took a boat trip to the island of Lokrum, and climbed the hill to the ruin of the Napoleonic tower (it was Napoleon who gained entrance to the city through trickery, and then promptly abolished the Republic) to look back on the city from the old harbour side. I know it's been said before, but it really is the Pearl of the Adriatic.

For information about our "Footloose" films visit our website www.grindelwald.co.uk
our feature page: FOOTLOOSE IN DUBROVNIK ...now available as a DVD from Amazon.co.uk
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237510260/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237510260/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237510260/tpod.html Thu, 19 Mar 2009 18:39:08 -0400 FOOTLOOSE IN EASTERN EUROPE

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Budapest, Hungary

FOOTLOOSE IN BUDAPEST, PRAGUE & KRAKOW ...a walking DVD by Grindelwald Productions

Debra's Diary ~ Date: 13-21 June 2007 ~ BUDAPEST We choose to visit our destinations at the time of year that will be the most suitable for filming, and will show off the place to its best advantage - so, choosing to go to Budapest in June seemed a good idea. Based on predicted temperatures, we chose our hotel in Pest - a wonderful old apartment building turned into a hotel, with impossibly high ceilings; tall double-casement windows with shutters; polished wood floors; period furniture. A joyous change from the modern brick and glass, flat-packed hotels. Which just goes to show you shouldn't always rely on predictions - for our entire stay the temperature did not dip much below 37°C and wonderful old apartment buildings without air conditioning suddenly aren't a patch on modern brick and glass hotels with air conditioning, no matter how high the ceilings or how polished the wood! Holidaying I can take the heat; you can wear clothing designed to keep you cool and spend as much time as you like under cover drinking cool drinks. But filming in the heat is another matter entirely - especially when you've chosen a smart tailored dress, designed to hopefully disguise a less than even terrain beneath, teamed with an eye-catching complimentary little cardigan and matching shoes. Which just goes to show you should always have a dress B in the newly-downsized-to-meet-absurdly-low-weight allowances suitcase. But the show must go on (and the budget didn't allow for a return visit in a 20 degrees lower month) and Dave couldn't really see the problem (not understanding the importance of appearing comfortable and actually being comfortable), so we started filming. We research heavily before we go anywhere, and have a pretty set route to follow, but we do like to be flexible, and if something up a side street catches our fancy, we're quite likely to divert our course to feature it, so our filming course is erratic at best, and we film until we've completed the allotted distance - no matter how long that takes. We met Judit Nemeth at the Tourist Information Centre on March 15th Square - which was incredibly difficult to find - and she gave us our press packs, some useful pronunciation hints and sent us on our way.
We found Budapest easy to film and get around in, despite it's size. Because we had chosen a route that encompassed both sides of the Danube, and (hopefully) all the really good bits, there were only a couple of instances when we broke off the foot-slog and took trams, underground trains or a bus. Andras Török was a joy to meet - a former dissident, short-term Deputy Minister in the new government and now Director of an Arts Council and author of a best-selling book about Budapest - he was uniquely placed to talk about so many aspects of Hungarian culture. The problem with situations like this is that we could have made a programme just about him!
The only time I was actually cool was when we were in the Labyrinth, which is several metres underground. Its history was fascinating, from being cellars and hiding places for valuables, it became an air-raid shelter for 10,000 people during WW2, and then a secret military installation before being opened as an exhibit. Even though it was so hot, we still had goulasch soup at lunchtime, but compensated with gallons of the local beer - such a change from our normal routine... Even filming at night was sticky and uncomfortable, but it has to be done - Budapest is one of the most beautiful cities at night - they've really thought about their illuminations, they are spectacular. City Park was really pleasant to walk in, and the restaurant beside the thermal lake was particularly nice to sit in and rest the feet. Quite often we eat sandwiches 'on the hoof', so a proper restaurant is to be savoured to the full. At the Citadel on top of Gellert Hill there were superb views, a welcome breeze and more cold drinks which made the climb up worth it. Although there were plenty of good restaurants with excellent food, we were usually so tired that we tended to eat within a small radius of our hotel with the occasional foray further afield, and found the prices to be pretty much on a par with the UK in the top tourist spots. We're told the nightlife is good, but as we generally view the day's rushes and then plan for the next day to encompass any changes and fall into bed (having hastily ironed the smart dress for yet another attempt at a wrinkle-free day in the heat), I have to honestly say we didn't sample it.
We've been to Budapest in the winter too; that time we stayed in Buda in a wonderful sixties-style round tower of a hotel and had just as much fun wandering the streets, albeit bundled up in winter woollies. We visited the national museum, and although you have to put up your house and your passport as surety in order to obtain the MP3 players with the audio tour to guide you through Hungary's long history, it is worth it if only to go through the WW2-Communist years exhibits. The House of Terror Museum is haunting, and I particularly enjoyed the stamp museum, but you need a generous amount of time to look at everything. Definitely an all-year-round city to visit.

More About our DVD: FOOTLOOSE IN BUDAPEST,PRAGUE & KRAKOW on our website www.grindelwald.co.uk Buy it from Amazon!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237514100/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237514100/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237514100/tpod.html Thu, 19 Mar 2009 18:03:53 -0400 FOOTLOOSE IN EASTERN EUROPE

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Krakow, Southern Poland, Poland

FOOTLOOSE IN BUDAPEST, PRAGUE & KRAKOW ...a DVD by Grindelwald Productions
Debra's Diary ~ Date: September 2007. KRAKOW old town is much smaller than either Prague or Budapest, so it is easy to cover everything you want to see. The railway station is a bit of a trek trailing cases to hotels within walking distance, and in the pouring rain, trying to find a taxi to take you to your hotel that is not close is a nightmare. There does not appear to be a taxi rank near to the railway station which seems to go against usual trend. I liked Krakow very much, there is a lot to see in a relatively small area, which makes filming a much easier prospect. The weather was patchy, which is hard for continuity but with viewing the footage we've shot in the evening, it gives us an opportunity to re-take shots if they are a bit gloomy or don't match. But that in turn means doubling back on yourself, which extends the filming day no end. Or using up a portion of another day that was allotted to somewhere else - or whizzing around like a mad thing on the morning of the day of your flight back home. As a general rule, we found that most people over 30 did not speak English at all or not well, and most people under 30 spoke it extremely well. With so many students in Krakow (over 150,000), they give the city a young feel and an energy that is engaging, although I wouldn't call it a 'cheerful' city. I don't think I've ever seen so many pubs, bars, cafes, restaurants and cellar bars in such a compact area, and the choice of cuisine is really extensive, and amazingly cheap. I've also never seen so many young, good-looking policemen in my life either.
It is very straightforward and easy to get around in Krakow, although the swarm of little tourist golf-cart trains is annoying; the horse and carriages are much more attractive. The Cloth Hall market stalls are a shopper's dream for amber jewellery, Tiffany lamps, wooden carvings, outer clothing and traditional crafts, and it is a very attractive building set in an attractive wide square. The church of St. Mary has two gothic towers, one of which you can climb to the top to see the famed Trumpeter blow his trumpet through each of the four corner windows, his call to arms symbolically cut off in mid-note to commemorate the 13th century trumpeter who was shot in the throat as he warned of the Mongol invasion. This trumpet tribute is broadcast on Krakow radio every day at noon. But it's a lot of steps and you need a good head for heights, which is why Dave went up and I didn't.
We took an excursion to Nowa Huta with Crazy Guides in a Trabant driven by Crazy Qba - crazily. I've never been in a Trabant before, and I can honestly say I don't wish to again. As explained on the drive, with Qba cheerfully pointing out with both hands, (which was worrying as they didn't spend a great deal of time gripping the steering wheel), the whole thing is made of fibreglass and the bonnet is made of cardboard; it has no fuel pump, the petrol tank sits on top of the engine, and we had to have the windows open as the exhaust smoked like a mini-steelworks the entire journey. But the Trabis are constantly maintained, and as Qba obviously not only knew how to drive one but also how to fix one, we arrived unscathed at Nowa Huta. The tour itself was hugely entertaining, due in a large part to Crazy Qba's quirky and charming non-stop commentary and very educational - this was Communism as I had never expected to see it. We visited a 'Communist' flat - it smelled of boiled cabbage and stale vodka - where the company had collected together items representative of the Communist years, and we took vodka shots and in Dave's case a gherkin to kill the aftertaste of the vodka. I had a piece of spicy sausage. Really worth doing; Crazy Qba really knew his stuff and it gives you an insight you don't expect - like food ration coupons from the 80's.
Our walk took us over the river on a nondescript bridge to find the infamous ghetto and Oskar Schindler's factory - it wasn't that obvious on foot, but the little golf-carts managed to find it and also managed to park in shot as well. The Church of the Rock was fascinating, and when we were there, had a really excellent display on the life of St. Stanislaw, the patron saint of the city. And of course, Krakow was home to Pope John Paul II, and there is a city trail devoted to him. There are several themed city trails to follow, such as the Jewish one and the University trail and we tried to combine elements of all of them in our film. The Remu'h Cemetery is moving, and we ate in the Jewish quarter more than once because the food was so good.
Wawel Castle has an interesting history incorporating the ravages of Imperialistic Austrians, but there is nowhere in Krakow that has a vantage point from which to view it, so it becomes less imposing than it could have been. Our walk took us along the river, out of town to the Kosciuszko Mound, and you can have a nicer, broader perspective of the castle from the riverbank.

For more information about the DVD "FOOTLOOSE IN BUDAPEST PRAGUE & KRAKOW" you can visit our website www.grindelwald.co.uk or even buy one from Amazon UK!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237512660/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237512660/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/grindelwalders/1/1237512660/tpod.html Thu, 19 Mar 2009 17:41:58 -0400 FOOTLOOSE IN EASTERN EUROPE

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Prague, Bohemia, Czech Republic

FOOTLOOSE IN BUDAPEST, PRAGUE & KRAKOW ...a DVD by Grindelwald Productions
Debra's Diary ~ Date: July 2007 Where Budapest had been too hot, Prague turned out to be a wee bit chilly, and a bit on the rainy side which posed a bit of a challenge to make it look good in the small measure of sunshine we did get. The hardest part though was obtaining our filming permits; remember, we don't go into museums or parliament buildings, we film in the street like any other tourist (with a slightly larger camera and radio mikes and tripod admittedly) and getting permission to do this was like pulling teeth. When we finally did obtain them - all official with stamps all over them - they turned out to be police permits for the centre of Prague, in case our filming caused a stir. We should be so lucky. It was all a bit OTT, and some of the fees for filming were definitely unrealistic - haven't they heard there's no money in TV? Filming in Prague is a challenge - so many beautiful buildings, how do you show them all? We'd worked out a walking trail through the city, as we do in all our destinations, but Prague was difficult. Whereas there were wide streets in both Budapest, Barcelona and Krakow, Prague was very gothic - which meant narrow streets that made it hard to get a proper perspective on these wonderful buildings. My favourite, without a doubt, was Ginger and Fred, the Dancing House. I loved it, which is unusual for me as I don't generally like modern buildings. And not many people know that we did the piece to camera for it huddled behind a bus shelter, trying to keep out of the cold wind and dodge the rain showers!
Prague has a great atmosphere, and we stayed in a hotel on Wenceslas Square, which gave us instant access to the centre of town. We met Vaclav Vitek in the Petrin Park during a sudden hot spell, and discovered the really charming restaurant at Nebozizek, where we decided to spend our last afternoon as well, before going to the airport. Prague seemed cosy and almost hunched in comparison with the grandness of Budapest, and it has to be said that the Vltava river is no match for the Danube. The Charles bridge is venerable, but the city burghers don't celebrate their bridges as much the Budapest ones do. The trams were easy to use, and got us up to our starting point at the top of Petrin Park both dry and relatively comfortable, temperature wise, but I found the endless cobbles were hard-going for my hips - not my feet which were well-shod - the unevenness of surface tended to cause some nerve-trapping that was unhelpful.
Our visit to Ufleku brewery was very entertaining, especially at night when they offer communal dining, basic but good food, and their special brew whilst being serenaded by various musicians with accordions and tubas. And the beer was really good, we tried several in our never-ending quest to bring you true representation...although I kept a tight rein on the sausage-eating, tasty as they were.
There were few reminders of their Communist past; but the ones that were there were particularly arresting - at the foot of Petrin Hill, the memorial to the 'victims of Communism' (by which they mean anyone who suffered during this regime) is shocking in its depiction in bronze of parts of a man becoming whole again after the fall of Communism. I had a long-standing desire to see the memorial to Jan Palach; as a young teenager I had been profoundly shocked at his self-immolation in protest in 1969, and his name had stayed in my memory since then. On the spot where he burned to death there is a flattened bronze cross that undulates across two humps cobbled in white - one for Palach, and the other for another young man, Jan Zajic, who also chose this shocking way to protest a few weeks later - they were both 19. Further down the square is a little shrine with a marble stone, etched with the likeness of both young men. Very moving and surprisingly hard-hitting in its simplicity. The Jewish cemetery was also a poignant visit, the Pinkas Synagogue no less so. There are side-trips available to the Nazi concentration camp at Terezin for those with a deeper interest.
We took a boat trip on the Vltava which was pleasant and gave us a broader perspective of the riverside buildings, and we also visited the old castle, although it was a bit of a tortuous route with tram lines up and road works which made it a bit of an unattractive road walk. We walked down through the gardens from Prague Castle, which ended rather abruptly with closed iron gates and a rather worrying set of narrow foot bridges that side-stepped the gates and brought you out onto the road opposite some rather spectacular graffiti - either that or we obviously took a wrong turn.
Prague doesn't dwell on its past dark decades - it's full of life and foreigners, and if some of them are a bit too rowdy on a Saturday night and have instantly recognisable UK regional accents, it doesn't detract from its easy-going vibrancy. Food was patchy; in the tourist areas it is expensive and not necessarily good, but step away into a side-street or down into a cellar restaurant and it instantly improves in both quality and price, and the beer is very, very good.

You might like to read more about our DVD: FOOTLOOSE IN BUDAPEST PRAGUE & KRAKOW from our website www.grindelwald.co.uk or even buy one from Amazon UK!
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