Wow, I'm back in Munich! 2010 holds so many possibilities for me, and I feel like I'm at the beginning of a journey. One that might perhaps not cover quite so much geography as I have done in recent years, but might instead see me travelling emotionally and psychologically in a new direction. (Gosh, that sounds self-important doesn't it!)

But of course, there are exciting things happening all the time, and that's what this blog is about. So here's a selection of tidbits of what I've been up to since the last entry:

- I've been skiing twice. Once was in constant snow - but at least it wasn't too cold or windy. And once was in blazing sunshine. Yay!

- I've had lots of choir rehearsals for our upcoming huge concert of Bernstein's Mass. It should be an amazing production, with soloists, costumes, extra choirs, and all sorts of shenanigans.

- I've been hanging out with my nephews, playing board games, Wii games, and generally messing about. They've been ill quite a lot this winter, so it's been handy that I'm free during the day so Michaela doesn't have to take so much time off work.

- I've met up with various friends, old & new, for lunch & dinner. It's lovely to catch up with people again after my long time away.

- I've been thinking about what to do next workwise. And then, after a few milliseconds when it gets too depressing, I've been distracting myself with pretty much any other activity whatsoever.

- I've endured the freezing temperatures of this winter, with loads of snow lying unmelted for ages & ages. At times I've been tempted to sew myself into my thermal long johns. But then thoughts of personal hygiene have stayed my hand.

- I've spent a long weekend in Italy, visiting Lorna in Milan. We took a train across to Venice to experience the spectacle of Carnival there, with lots of people dressing up in traditional costume - us included (well, we got masks anyway).

I promise to get some of my Australia photos up on my website soon...

And that, folks, is I think my briefest blog entry in a VEEEEERY long time!

Okay people, let's finish this! One more blog (this one) and then I'm basically up to date, inasmuch as we'll have reached 2010. Hold onto your hats:

I boarded my Emirates flight to Singapore without incident. I didn't even look out of the window much, preferring not to dwell on the thought that I was leaving Australia behind me. Instead, I watched a series of films courtesy of the in-flight entertainment system. Don't ask me what they all were: they were recent, they were okay, but that's about it.

A couple of hours on the ground in Singapore, and then it was back into the skies, for our flight to Dubai. More films, some dozing, then a few more hours on the ground there, before once again climbing into the heavens en route for London.

Dubai, of course, now boasts the world's tallest building, the Burj Khalifa, at over 800 metres. It was bizarre to see this futuristic jaggedy spike sticking up out of the ground as we took off for the UK; I felt like I was on the cover of a sci-fi novel.

I couldn't quite believe my eyes as we came down through the clouds and flew in over Gatwick: there below me was a winter wonderland of patchwork fields all in white, sewn together with seams of highlighted hedgerow. A far cry from the heat of Melbourne, Singapore & Dubai.

The UK is enduring its coldest winter in over 30 years, with snow & ice before Christmas and again in spades after New Year. So much so that my flight home to Munich was cancelled. Twice! But I'm getting ahead of myself...

I caught the train from Gatwick to Guildford and was met at the station by Chris & Livi, who gave me a great big hug and then offerred me a mince pie. What a great girl! Back at Chris & Kate's I hugged Kate & Sophie, then brought my many bags upstairs. Soon Michaela & the boys arrived from their visit in Oxfordshire, and the Family Christmas officially began.

It was a marvellous few days! It was so much fun just hanging out with the kids, and hanging out with the adults too. There was lots of food, drink, chat, and mirth. We saw a few other people too, which was lovely, but the focus for me was my nephews & nieces. I didn't have much time with them in the summer in Rome, so I made the most of this holiday with them.

On Christmas Eve we all went to see the pantomime. It was Cinderella, with Gethin Jones (of Strictly Come Dancing fame, for my UK readers) as the Prince. I haven't been to a pantomime for such a long time! It all felt very English and comfortable, a bit like a Carry On film or a cooked breakfast.

Christmas Day was exactly what it was supposed to be: presents, happiness, a huge feed (I helped Kate in the kitchen), and then a whole lot of nothing in particular. The kids really enjoyed the table football that Chris had bought, and the grown-ups had a few games too.

After Christmas Day itself we visited a few of our remaining cousins. First up was Roy & Sheila, and the next day it was the turn of Bob & Iris, with the added bonus of cousin Audrey & her husband Nick, as well as Bob & Iris' youngest daughter Shelley & her husband Richard.

Michaela, the boys & I went from there to visit Selena & Neil in Watford. (Chris, Kate & the girls went home to Guildford.) The next day we drove across to Ann & Colin's in Cockfosters, where we also got to see Kevin & his family and Julie & her ex Fred. It felt just like family; no surprise, since we worked out that Kevin has known me for fully 25 years!!

Over the New Year period I caught up with lots of my other London friends: Hugh, Nick, Justin & Sam & the girls, Steve & Becky, and Memet & Justyna. I also caught up with Adam from Adelaide, who was over for a few days, and Julie my old Powergen colleague and exceptionally well-travelled friend, who I was overjoyed to find in London for a change.

And then it was already time to leave the UK. Or so I thought, anyway... I was supposed to leave on Wednesday but was informed by text message that the flight was cancelled, so I rebooked online for the next day's flight.

On Thursday I didn't get the cancellation text until I was already at the airport with Michaela & the boys (whose flight, we discovered on arrival, was also cancelled again), so they rebooked me on the spot for Friday. And then my Friday flight was delayed by two hours. But at least we got away.

Bénédicte was a total star and picked me up from the airport, even though the weather forecast for Munich was really bad (more snow). She dropped me off at Michaela's house and made a quick getaway, so the roads wouldn't be too icy. At Michaela's the winter woe continued however, because her heating had broken down while she was away and the house was freezing!

On Saturday I felt pretty lousy, so I didn't move all my stuff back into my flat as planned. Instead I had a hot bath, then another snooze under warmer covers, and then had a bite to eat. I met up with Christian for coffee in town later, then headed back to Michaela's for a spot of dinner with her & Charlie (Ryan was at a party).

Sunday was reasonably quiet too, with a spot of breakfast next door at Vera's. I gave her daughter Stefanie a lift to her stables outside Munich and we took her horse for a walk through the snow & ice. It was very cold, but the walking warmed me up. And the ice formations on the trees were fascinating!

That evening we had a roast chicken dinner and then I headed back to my flat, to start the task of unpacking all the various boxes & bags that I had put my life into before leaving for Thailand.

So we've reached my last weekend in Melbourne. Boo hoo! I have to head back to freezing cold, dark, miserable Europe in three days' time! Let's make the most of the time I have left...

Saturday morning Rainnie & I cycled into Fitzroy and I did a whole bunch of Christmas shopping at the Rose Street arts market. Considering I don't like shopping, I managed to find loads of nice things - all in the one place, too! Result!

That evening I met up wtih Stuart at a nice pub called The Fox. A friend of his was having a leaving party (he's off to London for a few years) and Stuart smuggled me in. From The Fox we went to The Laird and ended up partying in the beer garden there until about five o'clock!

On Sunday Peter drove me out to the Botanical Gardens at Cranbourne, to the east of Melbourne proper. They're in the middle of extending the gardens to include a huge exhibit of plants from all over Australia, and there was lots to see. It was handy having Peter there: he's a professional gardener, and so could tell me all about the plants and flowers we were looking at.

Peter dropped me off back at Rainnie's and after a little bit of faffing she & I cycled back into the city, to have my leaving drinks. I'd invited a few people to meet me that afternoon in The Lounge, another old haunt on Swanston. We were joined by Emily, Peter & Stuart, and had a quiet couple of drinks on the balcony there, overlooking the goings-on on Swanston.

We went our separate ways as dusk fell, Rainnie & I cycling back up Lygon and to the little Italian just at the top of her road, called I Carusi. We had a Pizza For A Friend for old times' sake, with a bottle of the house red. Ah! The memories! I still love that pizza: feta, rocket, pine nuts and roast pumpkin. Yum!!

My last two daya in Melbourne felt much more like a holiday. Rainnie had time during the day to show me lots of different parts of town. We cycled all over the place, criss-crossing the city and the inner suburbs in search of coffees, meals, and sights.

Highlights included lunch at DonDon, the funky little Japanese place on Swanston; Chinese dumplings in Richmond, coffee in a converted little warehouse, and the views of the city from the cycle path along the Yarra and from Docklands (where a substantial number of tower blocks have gone up even since I was living here four years ago).

I also made time for a couple of interviews with different massage colleges, just to see what is covered in their Remedial Massage training. Food for thought...

On Monday evening I met up with Peter for dinner at an Afghan restaurant on Brunswick Street. For dessert we hit a nearby gelateria (mmm, blood orange!) and then Peter drove me out to Kew, from where you get quite the most stunning view over Melbourne's CBD. We caught it just at the perfect moment, as the sun sank beneath the horizon and the sky cycled through a progression of crepuscular hues, followed by the starry heavens unfolding above. Sensational!

And there it was: my last moments in Melbourne. The weather was finally turning reliably hot & sunny, but it was all to no avail. I had to pack my bags and get ready to go. The cycling with Rainnie took my mind off my imminent departure somewhat, and the tour of phenomenal coffee shops was wonderful (Oh My God, the one called Brother Baba Budan is simply off-the-scale amazing!), but the end had to come.

Rainnie took me to the airport in her car, and we had one final chat together (in McDonalds, of all places) before I was on my own again, London-bound. Farewell Australia! You are in my heart. And I shall see you again!

Perhaps it's time to wish all my dear, dear readers a very happy New Year! I kind of got all caught up in trying to get caught up with myself, if you see what I mean, so I didn't do the whole "Merry Christmas, everybody" type blog when I should have. Ah well.

So, back to the story: there's one thing I forgot to mention about that Sunday night in Melbourne. After the stupendous buffet dinner David had to go back to his hotel to prepare for the following day's meeting, so I wandered through the CBD vaguely back towards Swanston Street.

I decided to check out one of the bars that Rainnie had recommended: Cabinet. It was tucked away upstairs on an alleyway, like all the best Melbourne haunts. I was feeling so full of food that I couldn't face beer or even wine, so instead, much to my own astonishment, I plumped for a single malt whisky!

I have to say it was delicious with just a dash of water to encourage the aromas, and I made it last a good hour, sitting on the balcony overlooking Swanston and watching the world go by. (Okay, I read a magazine as well; there's only so much people-watching I can do in one go.)

My second week in Melbourne was just as much fun as my first week. On Monday I had myself a delicious Nepalese lunch on Lygon, then in the evening I caught up with my good friend Pat for a bite to eat and met his friend Nick, which was a lot of fun.

On Tuesday I spent the afternoon and evening with Emily, Tiffany & her son Herbert down on the beach at St Kilda. First we got some gluten-free fish & chips and some white wine, then we headed down to the beach, then I messed around in the water with Herbert.

At one point we started building a huge sand castle (with a very fine moat, though I say so myself!), and this other little kid joined us. I was beginning to look like the Pied Piper of Hamlyn, according to the girls! But the best bit was when Herbert went into the sea to get some seaweed for decoration, and the little kid said to me "where's your brother?"!!!

We went back to Tiffany's for more wine and I ended up crashing at hers the night. Which meant I was able to have a late breakfast with her in St Kilda the next morning, before catching a tram into the CBD, picking up my camera from the mender's, and then heading back to Rainnie's place in the afternoon.

That evening I met up with Peter to go to the Summer Night Market, a multicultural shopping, eating, drinking & dancing thing they put on at Victoria Markets that reminded me strongly of summer Tollwood here in Munich.

On Thursday I caught up with my old massage teacher Michelle, out at her house in the inner eastern suburbs. It was SO lovely to see her again! She was looking fabulous: freshly in love, and full of the joys of life. She gave me a massage but for me it was more about having a chance to catch up on what's happened in the last four years since we spoke.

After the massage I headed back into the city for a quick coffee in another of Rainnie's recommended coffee shops, hidden away in an alley. That evening I met Stuart at Melbourne Town Hall and we went to Sahara for dinner followed by a couple of drinks at a couple of bars that Rainnie had suggested to me: The Workshop (a first-floor place on a corner of Elizabeth Street) and Sister Bella (tucked away on a side-alley off an alley).

Friday was Rainnie's last day of her studies to be a teacher. She finished relatively early, and as it was another lovely hot day we went on a cycle ride to celebrate her freshly-regained freedom.

We headed to Ceres, the alternative lifestyle place just up the Merri Creek from her house, and spent a while fixing up the bike that one of her teacher colleagues had just given her. It was a bit rusty but basically sound. I've never tightened spokes before, but they have all the equipment you could ever need at Ceres' community bike shed, so it was no trouble at all in the end.

And so we came to the evening, which we were billing to ourselves as a reprise of our 2005-standard "Bodyweight In Beer" evenings. (Rainnie always used to complain, the day after having been out with me, that I should remind her next time that she can't drink her bodyweight in beer. Somehow, it always slipped my mind to do so...)

Our first port of call was Cabinet, the bar I'd had a whisky in at the weekend. I'd forgotten, but when Rainnie had told me about it it was because of their amazing g&t. So this time I had one. The gin they use is Xoriguer, from Majorca, and I have to say I was very impressed! Full of flavour, balanced, and very smooth.

From there I took Rainnie to Siglo, the second-floor terrace bar on Spring Street I had become acquainted with through Matthew the previous week. We had martinis but somehow they weren't quite as tasty as the ones I'd had last time. At least the olives were just as plump and tasty as I remembered though.

From there we headed through the CBD towards the river. We stopped for a loo break at the Euro Bar but then ended up staying there for a beer because the live band that was on was playing excellent tracks and we felt like a bit of a boogie on the sticky carpet floor (it reminded me of cheesy nights with Powergen mates at the similarly-floored nightclub in Leamington Spa).

Then we went on to Recorded Music Bar on Collins Street, where we ended up chatting with these two girls who work for some sort of medical charity. It was such a bizarre, wine-bar type conversation with people I'd never in a million years normally come into contact with!

A few beers later we headed on again, to Cherry Bar, scene of many a drunken night in my year in Melbourne. Sadly, for the first time this trip, my happy memories of 2005 were spoilt somewhat by the reality of 2009. Rainnie rightly pointed out that we were at Cherry at altogether the wrong time of the evening (it was barely past midnight; it only kicks off there around two or three), but it was still a shock to the system to find anything negative at all about Melbourne. I'm over the shock now, thankfully, but at the time it was BAD!

We actually managed to catch the last tram back up Lygon towards Rainnie's place - and then both actually managed to fall asleep in said tram! We woke up about four stops beyond her place, swore liberally at ourselves and at one another for our stupidity, then started walking - well, staggering - back. We stopped for a late-night falafel pita sandwich and then strolled munching back to her place.

Ah! Melbourne, Melbourne, Melbourne!

Rainnie was a darling and met me at the airport off my flight from Adelaide. We went back to hers, then jumped on bikes and cycled down Lygon Street a bit to a wine bar called Atticus Finch for a bottle of (it has to be said mediocre) red wine to celebrate my return to Victoria.

On Sunday morning we cycled to Fitzroy Baths for a swim and a tan top-up. Yes, it was hot & sunny in Melbourne! This wasn't always to be the case, however, which somewhat saddened me. I'm sure it didn't rain nearly as much in my whole year here in '05 as it did in my fortnight here this year! But no matter.

That afternoon we made pizzas at Rainnie's house and ate them. Yum!! Lebanese flat bread, a bit of tomato paste, some cheese, some veggies, some olives, and hey presto. Or the other one, which was just garlic, red onion, potatoes and rosemary. Wow!

I'd arranged to meet up with my friend Stuart later that afternoon in the beergarden of the Laird, my local when I was living here. To my surprise I not only saw Stuart but also got to know his best friend Peter AND I ran into Johannes' friend Dez! Of course, everyone knew everyone else already. But it was great for me to reconnect with Melbourne mates en masse.

For dinner, Stuart & Peter took me to the nearby Park Hotel, which is a pleasant pub with excellent food and is a regular haunt of theirs. Then I walked slowly back across Fitzroy and towards town, passing by a new pub I'd heard about called Sircuit and running into my friend Pat there unexpectedly.

Most of the daytime that I was in Melbourne I spent writing up my blog, to be honest! It took a little longer than it might have because I was using Rainnie's old laptop, which needed a lot of TLC - and updates galore - to get it working. Even then it was slow as, but it beat spending all my time and money going to internet cafes, that's for sure!

My evenings I spent catching up with people, reacquainting myself with favourite haunts, and getting to know new coffee shops, bars & restaurants. I love Melbourne!

So, on Monday, I dashed into town to eat masala dosa at a restaurant on Swanston Street cheesily called Curry Paradise. It deserves the name, is all I say. Wow! I've daydreamed periodically over the last four years of savouring their masala dosa, and now here I was acting out my fantasy. Bliss!

Next I got a key cut so I could give Rainnie back her house keys, had a quick coffee down Manchester Lane, and got a haircut at the slowest, gentlest barber I've ever experienced. AND he was ethnic German to boot! Then it was back to Rainnie's for a natter.

I met Dez on Smith Street for a drink at a bar confusingly called Kent Street that evening. We had dinner at a Vietnamese place nearby and then went to the Laird for a few underwear-themed drinks. Dez had to get to work early the next day, so we left at about eleven and I got a tram back up Nicholson Street to Rainnie's.

On Tuesday I popped in to Melbourne University to ask about doing a teaching diploma there. It's shocking how much more it costs to do the course as an international student than it does for Australians or permanent residents! We're talking tens of thousands of dollars more.

That afternoon I met up with my dear dear friend Emily on the steps of Flinders Street station, a traditional Melburnian meeting place for decades. We went for a coffee & cake on Degraves Street, and then we caught the train out to Yarraville, where Em had parked her car. A quick visit to the supermarket for ingredients and then it was back to Em's for a delicious dinner of baked salmon and veggies, washed down with a fine New Zealand sauvignon blanc of my choosing. Mmmmm!

In a bid to catch up with myself in cyberspace, I'm going to try to bullet-point the next few days, which all followed a similar pattern of internet by day and fun by night.

Wednesday: caught up with my good friend Ross in St Kilda for a bite to eat and a lovely evening.

Thursday: caught up with my good friend Matthew (who used to live in Canberra) for a delicious traditional Melbourne parmigiana (I know, me eating schnitzels is seriously coals to Newcastle, but it was a very good one) and then far too many martinis in a posh bar on Spring Street.

Friday: my very first onsen (Japanese spa bath) experience - having been denied one in Japan by all of them being closed - with Stuart and Peter, followed by dinner at the Park Hotel and a very lovely evening.

On Saturday I had lunch with Peter and a walk round The Convent - literally an old convent that's now an arts centre and all-round lovely spot in Collingwood. In the afternoon I baked an apricot tart for Rainnie and that evening Rainnie & I went to the theatre to see a satirical show about the current Australian political scene.

We followed this evening of culture up with dinner at Sahara, a little place upstairs on Swanston Street that I remember fondly from four years ago. The poor waiter got into a tiz with time zones though, when I mentioned to him that I live in Munich (they were selling Paulaner Oktoberfest beer, which prompted my comment): he said something along the lines of "oh, so it's March over there at the moment isn't it?" before realising just how foolish he sounded and then dropping his tray!

Sunday was a lovely day, if a little cold. I had brunch on Brunswick Street at the Red Tongue cafe with Ian, Kris and Kris' daughter. Later that evening I caught up with my good friend David from Canberra, who was down in Melbourne on business. We had a few beers and then headed to the Crowne Casino to feast on their seafood buffet. Wow!! It was just divine! So much lobster, so many prawns, and the most delicious swordfish medaillons I've ever had the pleasure of eating! Not to mention the dessert bar and the cheese selection...

Typical! You leave a town, and that's when the weather clears up! Ah well, but I can't really complain. The rain on my last full day in Perth was no more than a couple of showers, which actually made a refreshing change from the heat & dust of the previous three weeks.

So I jumped in a taxi at the crack of dawn and headed to the airport for my flight to Adelaide. The view out of the window was strangely familiar and yet unknown. I realised that it was the same crazy desert scrub that we'd been seeing from the van, only from a new vantage point. The dry river beds we flew over looked to me like giant bunkers in a planet-sized golf course.

I was met at Adelaide's swish new terminal by my cousin Su & her husband Barry, and they whisked me off to their house on the eastern edge of the city. After a quick bite to eat, I had a dunk in their fabulous swimming pool. We carried on chatting all afternoon, catching up on family gossip from both sides of the planet.

That evening we drove up to see their daughter Julie's new house at Ashton, up in the Adelaide hills. Julie & her husband Stuart are completely rebuilding a house along ecologically-friendly lines, with things like grey water evaporative cooling, double glazing (I know how bizarre it sounds to trumpet double glazing as a new technology, but in Australia it really is!) and photovoltaic cells on a specially inclined roof. The highlight for me was their farmyard, complete with chickens and alpacas!

For dinner Su, Barry & I walked round the corner to their local Thai restaurant "Sawasdee". Being in a suburb, I wasn't sure how good it would be, but I was willing to give it a try because Su & Barry were raving about it. And it turns out they were right to: what a treat! Friendly service, delicious food, and a pleasant interior.

We finished the evening back home with a luscious bottle of red wine out on the patio, which helped me shrug off the two-and-a-half hour time difference from WA.

Thursday was a pretty action-packed day. Barry suddenly had a free day (he thought he would be at the cricket, but the Test against the West Indies didn't start until the next day) so he drove me & Su all over Adelaide. We started with the view over the city from Montefiore Hill, then had a little stroll along the Torrens river through Elder Park, where I got the chance to take a series of photos of a pair of black swans courting, then shagging.

Next we headed to the botanical gardens, where we visited the new tropical house. Called the Bicentennial Rainforest Building, it looks somewhat like a gargantuan metal slug. We were getting a bit peckish by this stage, so we decided to head to Semaphore Beach for some tasty fish & chips. They're a recurring theme whenever I'm with Su & Barry: we worked out that we had had fish & chips together in Port Melbourne, in upstate Victoria, and now in Adelaide as well!

The beach at Semaphore is almost as fabulously white, long and empty as at Swanbourne in Perth, which I have to admit I wasn't expecting. Sadly, the wind was whipping up a fine blast of sand, so we didn't spend too much time by the sea. Instead, we drove round to Port Adelaide, where we had a cup of coffee, a little stroll, and then stumbled across a microbrewery where I had the serving platter of all six of their beers.

That evening I met up with David, a friend of Johannes' in Sydney. We had a drink at the Universal Wine Bar and then dinner at a Greek restaurant nearby called Eros. Cheesy name! But the food was good. Next stop was a beer at a super-traditional Australian pub that looked just like a super-traditional English pub, and we finished with a coffee in a very posh-looking coffee shop.

Friday was a little less busy, but just as much fun. Julie & Stuart came round for coffee in the morning. We had a snacky lunch and a relaxed afternoon in the pool. Later on I went into town with Su and we visited the Migration Museum, which was not that great to be honest but dealt with some interesting issues, in particular how Anglo-biased the migration policies of Australia have been throughout the history of the country.

Su & I had a cheeky coffee in the middle of Adelaide's shopping district, and then I met up with my good friend Adam. He took me to the opening of a solo show at a gallery in town. The artist is a good friend & colleague of his who has done lots of stage set design for Adam's theatre productions. The pictures were great!

We had a quick wander round Adelaide's famous food markets before heading to a Thai restaurant that Adam knows well for a delicious dinner (I had soft-shell crab for the first time - weird but tasty). The evening was lots of fun!

Saturday was my last day in Adelaide, so it was lovely for me to be able to have a big family breakfast with Su, Barry, Julie, Stuart and their two kids Callum and Elise (who, bless them, remembered me from my last visit to Adelaide in 2005) at ETC, the East Terrace Continental, a wonderful relaxed brunchy place with funky furnishings, great coffee and delicious food.

All that remained after breakfast was to pack my bags, have a farewell dip in the pool, and then head to the airport. Su & Barry had a drink with me in the terminal building, then left me in the queue to board my flight to Melbourne. Farewell, South Australia!

I had a couple more days to spend in Perth, and I did it at a radically slower pace than I had become used to over the course of the camper trip. It was weird to think that I didn't have to dash around and see everything I wanted to see in about half an hour, then jump into my vehicle and drive for another six hours. Instead, I "did" Perth in my old-school backpacker style: Lonely Planet walking tour interspersed with food & drink as & when.

Perth is a smallish city with big ambitions. There's clearly money sloshing about here, what with the whole extractive industries boom and related service sector growth. Everyone had told me how English the people of Perth are, but I was surprised by how many Chinese I saw walking around. It's a boom town alright. You talk to people about the current economic downturn and they say "yeah, but it's going to go up up up really soon".

Architecturally speaking, Perth's centre is a little grid of streets with many Art Deco buildings but more & more brand spanking new skyscrapers in the modern glass-and-steel mould. I have heard that Perth is fond of blowing up its historical buildings, but I'm glad to say that there are at least a few nice ones left. For now.

Among the prettiest gems is His Majesty's Theatre, or The Maj as it's affectionately known. I had a peek inside courtesy of a very kindly gentleman who works as a volunteer guide there. He was very friendly and clearly chuffed that people would come from far & wide to visit "his" theatre, but the poor dear didn't really have all that much to say. Ah well, it was a treat just to stand in a 100-year-old theatre and look around at how they've restored the velvet seating & the paintwork.

After lunch I had a quick coffee with Blake, then meandered back through the CBD and up into King's Park. This huge open space sits atop a hill that has a commanding view over the city and all across the Swan River, which at Perth becomes a huge bay before flowing into the Indian Ocean at some narrows a few kilometres further west at Fremantle. Perth's botanical gardens are in Kings Park, and they have a fabulous treetop walk bridge thingy that takes you through the canopy of the local forest.

After the considerable amount of walking that I'd done, I decided to treat myself to a sunset at the beach. Perth has absolutely fantastic beaches: white sand, big surf, and most importantly hardly any people! I went to Swanbourne beach (which was itself a good half-hour's walk from Swanbourne railway station, it has to be said) and then strolled up and down the monster expanse of gorgeous beach. Almost the only other people I saw were kitesurfers who were plying their way slowly northwards in the stiff sea breeze.

I plonked myself down on my trusty green striped beach towel that I'd bought in South Africa all those years ago, and enjoyed a last bit of hot sun on my bronzed body, shielded from the wind by the dunes I had climbed up into. It was heaven!

The trip back into town was a lot easier thanks to the coincidence of me passing the beach bus stop just at the moment the bus was doing the same. I hopped on, changed onto a train, and then walked back to Blake's apartment to get showered and changed for dinner.

I met with my friend Shane, a self-employed property developer who does up big places out in the bush and then sells them on, for some Malaysian food and a few drinks. But before long I was in bed, worn out from the day's exertions.

Tuesday was more of the same, with a slow morning of repacking my luggage (this time without a hangover and the time pressure of having to bring the van back - phew!) followed by a spot of lunch. Then I took the train out to Fremantle and walked around there for the afternoon.

Fremantle is, or used to be, a separate town that serves as Perth's port. It stands at the mouth of the Swan River and has a lovely compact and ornate city centre with fine Art Nouveau and Art Deco buildings. It's also famous for being the home of the Little Creatures brewery. Little Creatures has a brasserie-cum-beerhall out on the marina which is a bit of a backpacker mecca, but I have to say I was underwhelmed. The one in Melbourne which I'd been to a month before with Rainnie was much more atmospheric in my opinion.

Perhaps it wasn't Fremantle's fault that I found everything a bit less attractive than I had expected. It might instead have been the result of this being my last day in Western Australia. Sure, I was distracting myself by walking all over and looking at stuff, but there was no denying that I was on a bit of a downer after the manic three weeks in the campervan.

Thank goodness I'd had a little pilgrimage to the beach yesterday at Swanbourne, because Fremantle doesn't have a beach to speak of. I would have been extremely cross at myself if I hadn't luxuriated on a big fat white sandy beach one last time, considering how many gorgeous such beaches Rainnie & I had seen on our trip.

My mood perked up when I saw the sun set over the marina. For once it wasn't a case of "golden orb drops into cobalt sea", but rather - thanks to the dodgy weather that day - "copper orb lights up sky in flood of purples and reds before dropping into steely sea". At last, some colourful sunset photos!! (Ooh, hark at me, bemoaning the idyllic weather conditions of the previous fortnight!)

Moodwise, things only got better after sunset: my friend Robert in Sydney had given me the details of a friend of his in Perth, Francois, and I had arranged to meet Francois that evening in Fremantle for pizza. He brought along a friend of his, Simon, and the three of us had a delightful evening of wine and conversation, first at the pizza place and then at a gelato bar.

I do enjoy meeting new people who I have some slight connection to (as opposed to random strangers, which I always find a bit daunting - which is not to say I can't or won't meet random strangers, but it's always nicer if you're introduced to someone, even in the vaguest of ways, I find).

Francois was kind enough to drive me back into the city - which was lovely, considering I was still wearing shorts & a teeshirt but the temperature had dropped into the mid teens with the wind & rain. And then I got changed into warmer clothes, walked into Northbridge to do a spot of internetting, and walked home again, safe in the knowledge that I was checked in for tomorrow's flight.

The initial shock of being back in a city slowly wore off. We found ourselves a room for the night in one of the many many backpacker places in Northbridge (it was a dump and horrendously overpriced, but we were too knackered to worry about it overly), extracted what we would need for the evening from the camper and then began the gradual process of re-urbanising ourselves: showers, the trimming of fringe (Rainnie) and beard (me), putting on a wash, getting changed into "presentable" clothes.

It was Friday night, and I had decided to put on my dancing shoes and celebrate the end of our trip. But we were so knackered that we accidentally fell asleep! An hour later, I awoke extremely groggy and spent a little while rousing Rainnie from her slumber. We pushed on through the thick heads, had a cheeky cider to start the evening, and headed out to the Belgian Beer Cafe for a swift one. We just got there before they started closing up! It was eleven o'clock.

Our next port of call was a cavernous bar with a number of different rooms and dancefloors called the Court. At one point we found ourselves talking to a very very scary older lady. Rainnie felt honour-bound to remain in conversation with her, but she was SCARY so I finally convinced Rainnie to do a runner. We pretended to go to the toilet, then left quick-sharp! From the Court we went to Connections, a cheesy nightclub near our backpackers. But somehow we managed not to get to bed until four a.m. so it can't have been all that bad...

On Saturday morning we paid a heavy price for the excesses of the night before. Not only had we drunk a skinful, but also I had to get up at eight o'clock to renew the parking ticket on the van! And again at nine o'clock. And at ten. But then I realised we could't put off the inevitable any longer: it was time to Return The Campervan.

But first we had to check out. The geezer in the backpackers kindly let us use one of the common rooms to organise our luggage. Oh my God! The pile of our belongings was frighteningly huge. And it all had to fit back into two pieces of luggage!! Even random strangers were gasping at the enormity of our packing task. But somehow we managed.

Unfortunately, the packing sapped Rainnie of any remaining energy she had for the day. She was apologetic but it was clear to me that she was in such a bad way, she wouldn't be able to help me clean the van. So I did all of that, whilst she held her head in the vicinity of a bucket.

From the rental return station (handily close by in Northbridge) we took a cab to a nearby doctor. Rainnie was really in a bad way. The doctor sent us to the hospital for blood tests, fearing that Rainnie had hepatitis! And so we spent the best part of Saturday afternoon in hospital, Rainnie in various emergency beds and me - courtesy of administrative cock-up - in the waiting area, wondering what the hell was going on.

Oh well, on the positive side it gave me the chance to start writing up the three-week trip round NT and WA (Rainnie's laptop was in her bag with me). But when my head had cleared a bit I realised I should ask for an update at the front desk. They then told me "oh yes, of course you can go through to see her, but we don't bother calling up individual visitors". So how am I supposed to know I can go through? Argh!

By about five o'clock Rainnie was sufficiently rehydrated to be allowed to leave the hospital. We got a taxi into town, and the driver was a very entertaining and friendly chap from Kenya who had previously lived in Melbourne. And, as everyone knows, in Melbourne it's ALL ABOUT coffee, so Rainnie and he spent a good five minutes discussing the merits of various Melbourne coffee bars, and he bemoaned the fact that you just can't get a decent coffee anywhere in Perth!

At least I could tell from this exchange that Rainnie was feeling better... So we went to have a little lie down in a park in the centre of Northbridge, where they'd put up a huge widescreen TV and were showing bizarre cartoons. Then we indulged in a spot of internetting back at the backpackers.

We had a last bite to eat together at a Vietnamese place, and I had the best pho (beef noodle soup) I think I've ever had outside of Vietnam. Oh my God it was good! (It might just have had something to do with the fact that this was the first time in three weeks that I'd eaten meat, but I like to think that it was more about simply how well prepared it was and how fresh the ingredients were.)

We followed this delicious meal with a dismal coffee up the road, and then it was time for me to bid farewell to my travelling companion of the last three weeks. Rainnie flew home to Melbourne that night.

But I had a few more days in Perth, and they started about five minutes after Rainnie jumped into her airport taxi: I met up with Blake, a chap I met at Foggy's wedding in Northern Ireland in March. He owns a gorgeous flat right in the middle of Northbridge that he rents out, and handily it was empty from Saturday for a few days, so I moved in there straight away and then we had a few beers and a catch-up.

The plan for Sunday was delightful. Blake had gathered a few mates together and we did a little bit of a winery tour in the Swan River Valley, just north of Perth. Blake picked me up in the morning, then we swung by his friend Brett's house to pick him up as well. The three of us drove to the Duckstein Brewery, a German beergarden and brewhouse, where we met up with Blake's friends Holger & Melanie (a German couple) and Chrissie & Cherry.

The food was enormous and the beer was pretty good. But deary me the prices! It was hard to see how much they were getting away with charging for bog-standard German fare. I mean, it hurts my feelings to pay the equivalent of €20 for a schnitzel that I could buy in Munich for maybe €8! Ah well, but here we were on the other side of the planet, so I guess it had rarity value.

After the brewery we went to a couple of wineries. They have a great system here: you pay two dollars and get to taste six or seven wines. So there's no guilt-driven pressure on you to buy any wine at all, like there might be if you were getting all your tastes for free. At the first winery, the guy was a bit boring, but at the second one the woman we had was hysterically funny. She must have been eighty years old, but she was all dolled up (lippy, the works) and she had SUCH banter it was hilarious!

We went our separate ways after that winery, Blake Brett & I back to Brett's, where his wife gave us delicious cupcakes. Then Blake & I drove back into the city, left the car at his place and walked up to Mount Lawley for a bite to eat at a Greek place. We followed this with one of Perth's best coffees (according to Lonely Planet - but then again, how could I ever trust a coffee recommendation from that book again?) but I reckon Rainnie wouldn't have rated it.

We walked back to Northbridge and Blake drove home to his place in the suburbs, whilst I luxuriated in his exceptionally well-appointed place in town. Ah! to have so much space to myself, after 21 days sharing a campervan! It was exquisite.

So, it's Thursday, we're in Monkey Mia. How else to start the day than by watching dolphins getting fed?

There was quite a large crowd of people on the beach down by the jetty to enjoy this daily spectacle: dolphins coming in from the wild to interact with humans and get a free meal. To be fair to the organisers, they don't feed just any dolphin. The recipients of food are all descendants of the original group of dolphins that were first fed some thirty years ago.

It was wonderful to see dolphins so up-close and personal. Normally you only ever see glimpse them from on board a ship, or at best when they're swimming past you at high speed. This was a real treat - although it would have been even more amazing to swim with them rather than looking on whilst standing in a big long line on the sand.

After the dolphin feeding we went along to the meeting place for our Aboriginal walk. The guy taking us on the walk used to be a famous Australian Rules footballer - and he is a well-built man in his thirties with a distinct aura about him. Now he is an evangelist for Aboriginal-owned and -organised tourism, working closely with indigenous communities to ensure that their wishes are respected.

The walk he took us on brought us into close contact with Australian plants, animals and soil in a completely new way for me. It was fascinating to hear him talk about traditional ways, bush tucker (the plants you can eat that grow wild here, as opposed to food plants imported by European settlers), and the intimate relationship that Aboriginal people have with their environment. It really makes you look at the world around you with different eyes.

We left Monkey Mia and headed back to the mainland, but with one last stop at Hamelin Pool to see the stromatolites, which are bizarre communities of bacteria that have existed for over three billion years. They look like rocks, but they're alive! They too depend on the hypersalinity of the waters of Shark Bay, a factor (along with the biodiversity) that was decisive in this whole area's elevation to World Heritage status.

And, sure enough, once we left the vicinity of Shark Bay, the plants and trees either side of the road seemed somehow less vibrant and full of energy. It was almost unpleasant to get slowly sucked back in to the "normal" Australia again after a few days enjoying the richness of Shark Bay and Monkey Mia.

We drove on south, eventually reaching a new area of lush vegetation in the form of the Kalbarri National Park, famed for its banksia trees and other flowering bushes. In fact, it was quite bizarre to find ourselves driving along and suddenly to notice that the scenery had undergone another colossal change. Where there had been scrub, now there were huge stands of trees. Where there had been two colours: ochre and dusty green, now there were little flowers in every hue.

We had a sad encounter with a very recently deceased emu that blocked our half of the highway. It was tragic to see this proud bird - whose cousins we had so recently played with in Exmouth - sprawled across the tarmac, still bleeding from its fatal car impact wounds.

We left the main highway to head to the coast and had a bite to eat at the small town of Kalbarri, enjoying the spectacular inlet there, with foaming waves crashing over a submerged rock and beaches stretching to either side. Then, as we headed back inland, we stopped to enjoy the sunset in a landscape that felt decidedly European: fields, fences, farms, and a general lack of the sense of vastness that had accompanied us pretty much all the way from Darwin.

We could tell we were nearing the end of our trip, but we had a few more excitements ahead of us yet.

Relatively quickly, the pastoral idyll we found ourselves in gave way to a briefly forgotten but sadly all-too-familiar dystopia of multi-lane highways, garish lights and that bane of modern life, traffic. The weather turned even windier as well, which made it all the more scary when huge road trains decided to overtake us on roads that were much narrower than they had been further north.

We drove right past Geraldton, the first town of any size we'd seen since, well, Darwin to be honest. Instead we pressed on further south, deciding to leave the main highway again and head coastwards towards Jurien Bay. We found ourselves a secluded parking spot off the road and hunkered down for the night under our sleeping bags, the wind once again howling and keeping the van very cold.

It was Friday, and for once I was awake a little before Rainnie. I snuck outside to have a little walk around. We had guessed that it might be pretty round here, but in fact it was a beautiful spot! Quite by chance we had parked at the top of some cliffs that looked down over a delightful little bay, its pristine beach spread at my feet as I contemplated the tumble of rocks & scrubby plants that formed a promontory before me, resplendent in the early morning sun.

We had breakfast just at the very top of the cliffs, then drove to the small town of Green Head where Rainnie treated herself to a cold shower and I decided I wasn't smelly enough to undergo that ordeal. The beach at Green Head was beautiful, as indeed it was all through that part of the world. We stopped slightly inland from there at a big viewing point and enjoyed a panorama over inland salt pans and a huge river valley.

Our next stop was at Jurien Bay. Can I just say that the Lonely Planet is LYING when it says you can get a decent coffee in that town. You SO can't. It was revolting. I actually honestly couldn't even drink more than one sip. I can't remember the last time I've left a food or drink item I've ordered standing, but I had to here. Gross!

We drove back inland a little way to the Pinnacles desert, part of Nambung National Park. The pinnacles are a bizarre sandstone formation, the genesis of which scientists have yet to agree on, made up of thousands of stalagmites standing singly or in groups in the middle of the desert. It's like nothing you've ever seen before.

They've built a huge new visitor centre which has lots of info on the local fauna & flora as well as the rocks, but the best thing about our visit here was that they've also laid on a track that you can drive on which takes you through the heart of the pinnacles themselves. Kind of like a safari park, only with rock instead of lions.

As we headed back to the highway, we passed huge pure white sand dunes. At the highway, we rescued a blue-tongue lizard from certain death in the middle of the road. Or, to be more exact, certain death beneath our tyres: the silly thing just froze in the road and it was lucky that it was between our wheels because we couldn't break fast enough!

Then we started the final stretch of our journey, heading through the increasingly European-looking countryside, past windfarms, the traffic steadily getting heavier. And then suddenly we were on the main highway to Perth: traffic jams, roadworks, road rage, all the joys of big-city living.

It took bloody ages to get as far as Perth's ring road. At least we had nice vineyards on either side of the road to enjoy looking at as we sat in the traffic jam while lorries hurtled past us in the other direction. When we reached Perth, thankfully Rainnie knew the area of town we should head for to find accommodation, and I successfully navigated us between, under and onto various flyovers and other scary roads.

There we were: smelly us in our skanky clothes, our dusty campervan parked up on a city street, and people walking past us in suits and ties. Never in my life have I felt so out of place. And me, a city boy from London! It's amazing how just three weeks in the bush had changed me. The mark of a fantastic trip, methinks.

Two weeks in to our trip, it was time for a little bit of r&r. We left the Cape Range National Park, drove round the headland to Exmouth, refuelled, looked at the new marina that's being built there (it will be very posh in a few years' time), then drove south and west to Coral Bay.

Coral Bay is a tiny little place - it doesn't even have a post code, how about that? - right at the other end of the Ningaloo Reef. Rainnie had lived and worked here for a couple of months some ten years ago, and she was VERY excited about going back there, because she had such good memories. And I don't blame her: it's a gorgeous place!

We found ourselves a spot in the caravan park right opposite the beach, then promptly went for a snorkel off the beach. Suddenly, after a fortnight of manic driving, it felt as if we were on holiday properly, with no stress, nothing to make us leave. It was really quite relaxing!

In the afternoon we walked right along the beach, round a small promontory, and on along the next beach. There we found what we were looking for: a small lagoon filled to bursting with baby reef sharks! It was just too cute seeing all these sharks swimming in the shallow waters between the sandy beach and a bar of coral.

The rest of the day consisted of a spot of shopping, a bit of coffee drinking, and generally not much at all.

Monday was a bit more active. We had booked ourselves two scuba dives with the local dive operator, and had to be there at eight in the morning to set off. We were driven slightly south of Coral Bay to the new jetty (the bay onto which the beach gives is a marine park, with restricted boat traffic). The plague of flies that had descended on us as we embarked was gradually blown away by the wind as we set out to sea, and we settled in for a bit of a cruise.

The diving was phenomenal! We saw lots of fish, lots of sharks, lots of corals, and had lots of fun. Both dives were great, but the second one just had oodles of sharks, including two huge grey nurse sharks. Sadly, the underwater camera that we bought that morning packed up after the first dive so we didn't get many shark photos. The lady in the shop kindly swapped our leaky one for a new one when we got back, and we used it the next day when we were snorkelling.

In the evening we walked along the beach in the other direction, enjoying a massive sunset and watching the rocks & sand change colour with the progression of dusky hues in the sky. That evening Rainnie worked on her university assignments some more and I finished reading the Somerset Maugham book I started in Thailand.

On Tuesday we had a delicious morning snorkel (with underwater camera) and saw SO MANY snapper! After breakfast we did some internet & stuff, had some lunch at the bakery where Rainnnie had worked all those years ago (where we ran into the lady from the turtle sanctuary and her kids again), then prepared to leave Coral Bay heading south along the coast.

We were barely out of Coral Bay when a series of little tornadoes started up inland from us and spiralled red sand and dust up across the highway. In fact, a particularly big one managed to splatter rubbish all over the sensor of my camera, which meant that all my pictures from then on have an annoying speckle pattern across them.

Our first stop was Carnarvon, where we refuelled, went to the post office for Rainnie to send some postcards, and then left again. It wasn't really a particularly interesting town, but it had a nice enough waterfront. The most remarkable thing about the place was that it was the last time I saw a bend in the road for 40km!

In fact, the highway just south of Carnarvon is ridiculously straight. There were only three bends in the next 100km of driving. It's quite bizarre when you see the road you're on stretch to the horizon behind you and in front. The Romans couldn't have done better.

The straightness of the road was aggravated by the heat of the day and the monotony of the countryside in these parts. It was difficult to shake off the torpor that tried to grip me at the wheel. Thank heavens for music!

Where the road started to get bendy again, the land changed to become more hilly. We left the main highway and headed up a steep rocky driveway to watch the sun set from atop a barren outcrop, the wind whistling through a cairn of dusty rocks and whipping our hats from our heads, then pushed on into the night in an attempt to reach our next destination.

In fact, we didn't quite make it all the way to Monkey Mia, deciding that we were just too knackered to continue. It was a strenuous drive for Rainnie avoiding all the bunnies, kangas, cows & sundry creatures great & small. We pulled up in a layby and slept, hoping that dingos wouldn't eat us in the night.

Wednesday was another day for incredible experiences with nature. We started the day at Shell Beach, a beach that is composed literally of one kind of shell. The sea at Monkey Mia is hypersaline and very few kinds of sea creature can live there. As a result, the shells that get washed up on the beach are are almost all from one species. These shells get compacted down by various processes and form a kind of stone that was mined by early settlers to build their houses.

After Shell Beach we drove further up the narrow isthmus to Eagle Bluff, from where we had amazing views over the huge underwater meadows of sea grass that are much bigger here than anywhere else on earth. Dugongs, animals a bit like manatees, live here and feed on the grass. But more about them later...

We stopped in Denham for coffee, then drove on to Little Lagoon, a, well, little lagoon. We naughtily drove along the compacted white sand beach of the lagoon for a bit, because it was so beautiful. Then we continued to Monkey Mia. At the campsite there we got a spot really close to the beach. We parked up, got changed, and had a quick soak in the supershallow waters before heading to the jetty for a boat trip.

It wasn't any kind of boat trip. This was a dugong expedition on a converted racing catamaran. The two-man crew were hilarious, and got a few of us to volunteer to help hoist the rigging. Rainnie & I of course volunteered, just so we could get some cool photos of ourselves working the boat.

The trip lasted three hours, and in that time we saw a couple of turtles and DOZENS of dugongs!! They look like a bronze-coloured cross between a dolphin and a sealion. The crew/guides said they very rarely saw as many as we did that day. Normally they might hope to see two or three. But we just kept on seeing dugongs, singly as well as in mother-and-daughter pairs. It was awesome!

Back on shore we realised just how much sun we'd caught on the trip. There was just enough time to do a spot of internetting and get changed, then we headed back out on the same boat, this time for a sunset cruise. This was rather different to the afternoon trip. Where the waters had been extremely calm earlier, now the seas were getting really quite choppy. And the crew were loving it! They sped up and aimed for waves with the express intention of getting the passengers soaked.

After the first big soaking, one of the crew came around handing out waterproof jackets, but to be honest it was too late. We were all absolutely drenched. I was lucky my camera didn't get soaked too; I managed to slip my bag inside my coat literally a second before the next monster wave came crashing over the side.

With the sun setting, we came back to shore an hour after setting off. It was getting really windy and we were very cold. We'd arranged to do an Aboriginal evening walk but were wondering whether we could face it. The wind was getting really quite strong! Thankfully, the other people booked on the walk were also unkeen, and even the guide said it wouldn't be a great night for it. So instead we arranged to meet him the next morning.

The night we spent at Fortescue River roadhouse brought a new experience for us: Cold. It was hot when we parked up, but the wind got steadily stronger through the night, and when the darkest hour came (which is just before dawn, as any Mamas & Papas fan will know) it was actually bloody cold in the campervan! I never expected to have to crack out the sleeping bags we were given in Darwin, but we did for once.

On Friday morning we refuelled, refilled the water tank, and set off. But we stopped about twenty metres down the road because the Fortescue River was breathtakingly beautiful! In all the desert dryness we'd been driving through since Broome, criss-crossed only by dried-up river beds, it was delightful to see free-flowing water, lush trees and flocks of birds. A photo stop was obligatory.

About 100 metres later we had to stop again, because a kestrel was sitting posed on a small tree by the road. We just had to take more pictures. And 1km down from the bird, we saw a huge goanna making its way slowly across the highway. We pulled over to take some snaps, and saw another car pull up behind us.

Thinking they were going to take pictures too, we headed over to them. But in fact the Aboriginal people in the car had quite a different plan for the goanna: one of the two ladies who got out told us they were going to catch him and eat him. She promptly started sharpening up a big piece of scrap metal that happened to be lying at the side of the road.

A guy got out of the car then carrying an air rifle. The goanna defiantly stood his ground despite being surrounded by three humans, legs straight and neck up, but there was nothing he could do about the gun. As soon as he was hit, the other lady quickly grabbed him by the tail and swung him through the air, smashing his bleeding head on the tarmac. She proceeded to break both his back legs, just to make sure he couldn't get away. But to be honest I think he was already a gonner.

We got back in the van and carried on driving, somewhat stunned by the proceedings with the goanna. The day was full of experiences. And it wasn't even nine o'clock yet!

We turned off the main highway and took the road heading north to Exmouth, which was our next destination. As if responding to the diminished status of the road, the trees in the fields either side of us shrank to more of a bush landscape. It was quite a weird, flat, undulating terrain that put me in mind of Mars actually. Clearly, the heat was getting to my head!

Exmouth is at the northernmost extremity of the Ningaloo Reef, the second-biggest tropical reef in Australia. It was fitting then that we started our visit to this reef with an encounter with nature: just as we pulled in to the tourist information office in Exmouth, we were approached by our first emu of the trip. It was alone in a big field that backed on to the car park and walked right up to us to give us a good long look with its big eyes. Emus are quite large actually.

After refuelling we drove north out of town and saw a small beach at the top of the peninsula, then headed up to the lighthouse which stands on a small hill. From there we saw whales out in the distance. So, for today, that's kestrel: tick; goanna: tick; emu: tick; whale: tick. Wildlifetas-tick!

We drove round to the western side of the peninsula, into the Cape Range national park, and had lunch on a very very dusty beach with very thirsty kangaroos begging us for scraps. The wind had picked up again, and was whipping sand and dark red soil into my eyes and all through the camper. Everything got pretty filthy pretty quick, even though we left that beach as soon as we'd eaten.

Our next stop was Turquoise Bay, where we had our first snorkel on the Ningaloo Reef. The water was bloody cold, but very clear, and the reef promised to be very exciting. After a while in the water, we got out and dried off. Rainnie spent a while repairing her camera and then we went about finding a place to camp for the night. We ended up (after seeing lots of kangaroos and an echidna) at Osprey Bay, a little further to the south, where we had dinner and then turned in.

Saturday morning proved to be much more clement than the previous day. The sun was strong, and the wind had died down. After breakfast we took an early morning stroll along the gorgeous, deserted beach which lay just behind the parking bays for campervans. In the hour-and-a-half that we were walking, we saw just one other couple.

Next we headed back to Turquoise Bay, this time opting to do the drift snorkel out in the sea rather than stay in the safety of the bay. It would have been perilous yesterday, but today the seas were much calmer and the deeper waters cool but inviting. The snorkelling was FANTASTIC! We saw countless fish big & small, and the icing on the cake was a white tip reef shark that swam lazily past us.

We took lunch in the heat of the day, and I got a very noticeable tan line across the tops of my thighs just from sitting outside the camper eating our pasta salad. After lunch we snorkelled in the bay again just for fun, then made our way slowly north, checking out some of the other beaches in the park and heading for a beach just outside the park that was reputed to have turtles looking to lay eggs.

But first we decided to fill our water tank at the one and only bore hole in the park. There was another camper already there, but they soon left, which meant we had the whole spectacle to ourselves: it was a wildlife free-for-all!! Clearly, this is the only regular source of water anywhere in the area, and don't the animals know it! There were dozens of kangaroos and dozens of emus hanging about, waiting for a human to turn the tap on and let out some precious water onto the ground.

Rainnie & I took a gazillion photos, knowing that we would rarely if ever again get this close to this many animals in the wild. It was intense! Rainnie was stood at the tap, and kangaroos were hovering to her left with the emus to the right. There were two biggish pools at her feet, one quite shallow which suited the lapping tongues of the kangas, and one quite deep which suited the beaks of the emus. I had to think of Aesop's fable with the wolf and the crane.

One kangaroo was even so bold as actually to lick Rainnie's foot! We swapped places after a while, but the animals were a little shier of me. Perhaps it was because I was that little bit bigger. But the photos and video footage are absolutely magnificent. Wow. Wow. Wow.

So we pressed on to the turtle sanctuary beach and got there just in time for sunset. We also soon stumbled across a huge green turtle in the process of hauling herself up the beach and into the dunes, to dig a hole for her eggs. It was weird to see this giant of the sea struggling exhausted on the beach, so out of her element.

There was a human mother and her two kids already ensconced behind a couple of rocks, watching, so we joined them. It turns out the mother is from country Victoria. She clearly felt she had a rapport with us, because at one point she upped and left us with her daughter for about half an hour!

The wind really picked up as the sun went down, and it was actually quite chilly that night. We cooked ourselves up some tofu satay noodles, then headed back to Ned's Gully, a beach we'd found that day, to park up and sleep. What a day it had been!

Having narrowly escaped death in the desert the day before, it was somewhat ironic that we only narrowly escaped death in the deeps that night! Yes indeed, folks, we managed to park BELOW the tide line! We had wondered what that wooden barrier was for as we parked up against it in the dark, but we didn't give it a second thought.

It was the next morning that we saw the dried watermark lines on our tyres, and realised that had the tide been any higher we would have been sat with a flooded engine or - worse still - a flooded campervan.

So it was with a feeling of relief mixed with foolishness that we lied through our teeth (well Rainnie did the talking; I pretended to be asleep) to the Ranger who came to tell us we were camping illegally. For it was he who pointed out our near-brush with the Indian Ocean, as he was telling us to move along.

We moved along - eventually. But first we allowed ourselves the luxury of an early-morning dip in the waters that had so nearly carried us off. The Pretty Pool was indeed pretty: an inlet from the sea that bent in a right-angle, the end of which was next to where we'd parked. After a swimette, we sorted ourselves out some breakfast, then drove up to the toilet block back up by the road for a shower and to do the washing up.

We drove into the heart of Port Hedland just so I could experience yet another side to Australia: Industry. Port Hedland can't claim to be a pretty town, but what it lacks in beauty it more than makes up for in majestic purposefulness. The harbour is enormous (huge coal barges are filled here; Australia's busiest coal railway ends at the docks). The piles of salt, sand and ore are gigantic. And the town revels in this industrial reputation, styling itself "ore-some!"

It took us a while to find an acceptable coffee, but even that was to be had here. I'm guessing the majority of people in this town don't give a toss about the finer points of coffee roasting. At least, they look like guys who've got better things to think about, strutting around in their high-visibility workwear and helmets, or driving their big white 4WDs, each emblazoned with the name of one of the great companies in Australia's mining & minerals industry: BHP Billiton, Rio Tinto, and their ilk.

We watched a video about coal transportation in the visitors' centre, because there were no tours running at all that day and they couldn't offer us anything else to do. Then we went down to the port to watch a boat pull out, but it didn't. So we left and headed on west, stopping for lunch at Point Samson, a delightful lookout with a small coral reef.

We decided to have the first snorkel of our trip here, in the next-door bay called Honeymooners Cove. The oyster beds were treacherous to walk in over, but the water wasn't too cold and it was delicious to be out of the heat of the day. As we showered afterwards, we got chatting to a married couple who qualify as my first "grey nomads". These are people who've decided to sell up their house, buy a seriously luxurious camper truck, and travel around Australia for a few years. It's a growing phenomenon here in Australia for people to do that.

We drove through the afternoon until we reached Karratha, another mining boom town. Instead of going into the town itself, we refuelled and then drove up onto the Dampier Peninsula. There we saw our first outback traffic jam. It was insane! A kilometres-long snake of white 4WDs interspersed here and there with a white bus carrying workers heading home to Karratha for the evening. But where were all these people coming from?

We followed the traffic to its source and discovered, tucked away behind some hills, Australia's biggest LNG terminal, the North West Shelf. This quite simply blew the socks off any other industrial site I've ever seen. It was gargantuan! Row upon row of shiny chimneys, huge storage caverns, giant buildings, and the biggest pieces of machinery just lying around. And because we'd got there after home time (it was just gone five in the evening) the place was deserted.

After staring agog at this temple to raw material exploitation for about half an hour, we drove away again, but instead of heading back to civilisation we took a side dirt road down to the coast. From there we had stunning views of the sun as it set over the gas facility. We also saw kangaroos hopping through the bush. It was a queer juxtaposition of two worlds that I would never have thought could exist side by side like that.

We left Dampier Peninsula, went back to the main road, and continued westward. It was dusk now, so we had to keep our eyes peeled for stray wildlife and cattle. In fact, we had a very near miss with a huge cow once it was completely dark. For the next few minutes we were picturing to ourselves what the van would have looked like if we'd hit the cow.

And then, a few minutes later, in a bizarre twist of fate, we were flagged down by two guys in one of the ubiquitous white 4WD vehicles who had just hit a cow! Even though their ute was fitted with roo bars, it was totalled by the impact. Worse, the cow's head wrapped round the side of the car when it hit and destroyed the passenger side door. The guy sat there was lucky to escape unharmed.

We took a load of photos of their wrecked car, then gave them a lift back to their camp. It was interesting to talk to them about the work they're doing up here. Both of them are from Melbourne, and just working on contract for a few months as electricians, installing huge transformers for a monster gas project.

We dropped the two boys from the "cow car" off and headed on into the night, surviving a few more near-misses with kangaroos. It was past eleven when we finally pulled up at the Fortescue Roadhouse, another of these pubs-cum-petrol stations in the middle of nowhere. The federal government of Australia subsidises these outposts heavily, because without them it would be impossible to travel across this country.

Anyway, we arrived and everything was shut, but there happened to be a chap sitting on the front step. Which was bizarre. He told us he was waiting for a friend who was arriving on the bus, and that he worked in the kitchen. As we couldn't track down the manager of the place, the kitchen guy told us we should just park up in the campsite and worry about registering/paying the next day. So we did just that.

Ah! The Indian Ocean! What a sea-change (ouch pun!) from the world of dry, hot, ochre hills and spiky plants that we had been travelling through for the last week.

Cable Beach by day was even more fabulous than Cable Beach by night. We had an early-morning swim, watching a group of enthusiastic housewives doing aerobics at the top of the stairs down to the beach, then a spot of breakfast. Our next task was to find a campsite for the night (having slept sort-of illegally in the car park that night). We picked a spot in a nearby site, then cleaned the van of all its desert skankiness and did a big wash of our now-brown clothes.

Broome is smallish and quaint, with a long and colourful history: it started out as a pearling station, with dark stories of slavery, but has since become a prime tourist destination. (Yes, I spent an hour in the town's local history museum.) It's laid-back and cruisy. And it's growing fast. It was amazing to see how many houses are being built in behind the seashore. But I have to admit I didn't warm to the town really. It does however have some great beaches!

One of the highlights of Broome is Matso's Brewery, which does some delicious beers with all sorts of flavours. Our favourites were the mango wheat beer, the chili lager and the ginger beer. You can also buy them in bottles to take away, which makes them perfect as a drink to watch the sun set with. And boy were the sunsets huge!

Just outside Broome is Gantheaume Point, a bit of land that juts out into the sea opposite Cable Beach. The whole coast is made up of outlandishly bizarre rock formations, and you get to see how the bright red soil of this part of the world competes with the bright white of the sand to outshine the bright blue of the sea. Rainnie & I each took hundreds of photos, because everywhere you turned you saw an even more incredible chunk of multicoloured rock or a more astonishing juxtaposition of colours. Wow!

The road up to Gantheaume Point is 4WD-only, but we risked it anyway with the van; Rainnie had been here ten years ago in a VW Combi, so she knew it was passable. I was driving, and I totally didn't know where to stop because I was too busy concentrating on the ruts and drifts in the sandy track to see the sign. So in fact we went far too far up this dodgy road, and turned around once it started to get really difficult to drive on. We really didn't want to get stranded in a place that might invalidate our insurance...

After exploring the rocks in the intense heat for a few hours (we both of us caught plenty of sun that day; in fact Rainnie was driven to comment that evening "Oh my God my cleavage is on fire") we drove on out of town to visit the port of Broome. Here we walked right out on the long jetty, with people fishing off it all along and seagulls circling, then stopped at an unexpectedly nice-looking cafe back on land. I had grilled king prawns, thinking this might be the kind of place that would have amazing seafood, but I was a little underwhelmed.

We called in at McDonald's to use their free wi-fi (okay it's not free because you're expected to make a purchase; but 50 cents for an ice cream isn't too bad) before driving around town to find a spot where we might get away with camping for free. We ended up right on Town Beach, which was thankfully deserted. We took showers on the beach (I even dared to go naked because I could hardly see the nearest people and it was dark after all) and then turned in.

On Wednesday morning we were woken by a cloud of flies that got in to the van through the open side door (we hadn't bothered with opening the back of the van and putting the mozzie net across because we didn't want to draw attention to ourselves in the carpark, but we needed some air). The flies really are persistent in Australia. They want to land up your nose, on your eyeball, pretty much everywhere, the little bastards. At times I craved an Aussie hat with corks on...

We had a morning swim at Town Beach, naturally bringing our cameras down to the water's edge with us to take some beach photos. And then we got carried away in conversation to the extent that we totally didn't notice how far the tide had come in. Then Rainnie suddenly jumped up out of the water and ran full tilt back up to the sand, because she happened to see that waves were lapping at her camera case! Thankfully she got it out of the water just in time, but it was a close one!

Then we had breakfast outside the van, and it was the turn of the gulls to swarm around us like, well, like the flies had earlier on. I made the mistake of dropping a piece of apple on the floor, and it only took one enterprising gull to notice this for a whole squadron of them to come shrieking to our feet.

It was time to bid farewell to the coast for a little while and take the highway inland heading south then west. The countryside was full of trees and then suddenly empty of trees. Weird. And the wind! Oh my goodness, we were fighting to keep the van on the road most of the time, wrestling with the steering wheel. No wonder, when you consider how high and how square the van is. But it meant we were burning through petrol.

In fact, we very nearly had a huge disaster: petrol stations are quite far apart in this part of the world, so it's always important to fill up when you can. But with the wind we really couldn't help the fact that we were running literally on empty (it was really full-on, with the little red indicator light shouting at you as well as the needle under E) for THIRTY KILOMETRES! If we had run out, we would have been stuck in an inferno of treeless wasteland. Maybe a car would have come past. But then again maybe not. There isn't much traffic up here.

But we were very lucky and made it to Sandfire, a petrol station with a small roadhouse attached. And I was doubly lucky because we got there just in time for me to be able to call Charlie at home before he had to go to school and wish him a happy birthday. Of course, there was no mobile signal, but the petrol station had a payphone that was working. Phew!

Our next stop was on Eighty Mile Beach. This is a mind-blowingly enormous stretch of coastline that has millions of identical little flower-shaped shells lying atop superfine squelchy grey sand. It's also totally weird because the beach shelves so gently into the water that you can't actually tell where the land ends and the sea starts.

You start at the sand dunes and walk for maybe a kilometre out towards the sea, shells crunching underfoot, and where at first your feet are just wet underneath, slowly slowly the sand becomes softer, then there you cause little ripples in the skin of water over the beach, then there are slightly bigger pencils of water here and there, then you're walking over a corrugated surface of sandy channels, then you're mesmerised by the shifting reflections of sun and sand all around you, and then it's up around your ankles but you didn't notice.

It was windy as, of course, which masked the heat. But by the time we'd walked back on land I realised I was feeling rather sunstruck. Rainnie was a star and cooked me some lunch while I lay down in the shade of the van feeling helpless. The satay tofu revived me very effectively however, and soon we were back on the main road (Rainnie drove the 12km of dirt track to the beach and back at an impressive speed, the van juddering less than it would have had we been going slower because the wheels weren't really going down again before the next bump, so it was more like a hovercraft than a campervan).

We drove on through the evening until we reached Port Hedland, a very industrial town with a huge docks for shipping coal. Rainnie remembered there being a cute little beach somewhere near the centre of town where we could camp for the night. We found it eventually. It's called Pretty Pool. Aah! It being pitch black again, of course, we couldn't actually see if there's a pretty pool there, so we just parked up and had some dinner, then slept soundly with the sea breeze to cool us.

One of the coolest things about the camping ground at Katherine Gorge is that it is overrun with kangaroos!!! Oh yes, we had our first close encounter with Aussie wildlife whilst setting up for the evening. And in the night the place was veritably overrun with the little cuties!

So that evening I managed to rustle up a passable risotto on the small cooker in the van, and we washed it down with red wine before turning in. I was woken the next morning by the sound of innumerable strange birds calling to one another in the high tree canopy above our heads. Living in a campervan really reconnects you with life's natural rhythms. Early to bed, early to rise, and all that. It's impossible to sleep much after sunrise - and that's without factoring in all the wild animals loudly going about their business.

We did a boat tour of some of the gorges along the Katherine river. The scenery is spectacular! And there are Aboriginal cave paintings to be seen as well as natural beauty of the rocky sides of the gorges. It was fabulous weather, with barely a cloud in the sky. I look forward to looking at all the photos I took.

Back at the camp ground, we had one last swim in the marvellous pool (and I managed to graze my knuckles on the floor of the pool; they're STILL not completely healed, which is pretty bizarre I think) before breaking camp and making our way back to the town of Katherine. There we had a bit of housekeeping to do, in terms of shopping and getting Rainnie's laptop PC working. Even though the coffee shop in Katherine had the added bonus of wireless internet connectivity, it took us a good few hours to get the lappie working, including a manual uninstall of Microsoft Office. Yuk. The kid in the computer shop was useless too. Well, maybe that's what you get for dropping out of school at the age of 13.

We spent the night down near the hot springs that are just outside of town. There were millions of flying foxes there in the trees; I haven't seen such a spectacle as their mass departure at sunset since India. They'd actually started flying before the sun set, while we were still driving, and one managed to fly smack bang into the roof of the campervan! So much for echo location...

There were some unsavoury types camping near us (one guy who went into the loos just before me washed up a very suspicious looking spoon) so we kept to ourselves that night. Also, it wasn't an official camp ground, so we hoped we wouldn't get moved on by a ranger. We were lucky that night and left after a spot of breakfast the next morning.

So it was Saturday already! We had a huge long drive from Katherine heading south, past hundreds of Gaudi-esque termite mounds, down the valley of the Victoria river and through the Gregory National Park (which has amazing table mountains). The scenery was breathtaking!

We stopped for lunch at a tiny town called Timber Creek. It was baking hot and there was barely a whisper of breeze, but we found some respite from the sun in the shade of a huge boab tree that stood outside the 100-year-old local police station (which is now a museum). The building was surprising because it really wasn't very different at all from the buildings you still see all over the Outback. I'm guessing the newer ones have a toilet though.

After lunch we drove through the hot, dry landscape, marvelling at all the boabs we could see. There was one that was just enormous, so we stopped to take some pictures. And then we drove some more. And some more. And some more. And a bit more. You get the picture. It was all gorgeous, but it's difficult to describe the slightly hypnotic effect of driving through the bush.

We eventually reached the border with Western Australia, where we realised that we hadn't really thought about the inter-state quarantine regulations very hard. Basically, we had the choice of throwing away all our fruit & vegetables, or cooking everything up; cooked food is no issue, but raw stuff isn't allowed. Rainnie was feeling decidedly knackered with the heat and the driving, but I just couldn't bear to see all our food go to waste, so I cooked up about a week's worth of veggies while Rainnie squeezed all our remaining oranges into a juice box (which we got away with tee hee).

The unexpected delay at the border pretty much ate up all the two-and-a-half hour time difference between NT and WA. Now THAT was weird! I don't think I've ever driven a car across a time zone border before. We carried on driving, and soon reached the outskirts of Kununarra, a lush and prosperous town at the centre of a huge irrigation project from the 1960s. We were just in time to watch the sun set over the lake at the edge of town. It was a beautiful purple sunset, and with the leaves of the water lilies in the lake it felt like standing in a Monet painting.

The campsite we found was nice enough, but frustrating because we tried site after sit but the electrics just wouldn't work! Eventually we figured out that it was in fact the circuit breaker behind the driver's seat that was to blame for our travails. So we just had a nice swim in the pool (where Rainnie kindly taught me how to dive into water; I'm just not a water baby), a nice shower, a bite to eat, and turned in.

As if Saturday's drive hadn't been enough for us, we decided on Sunday to do a mad desert dash. We had to stay on the sealed roads sadly, as our campervan was only two wheel drive, so we couldn't go via the Gibb River Road through the heart of the Kimberley Mountains. Instead, we followed the main road south and then west, keeping the mountains to our right and heading slowly but surely towards the coast.

It was the hottest day of the trip. Even the campervan engine started to feel the heat; we were worried at one point that we would be stuck in the middle of this godforsaken desert landscape with an overheated engine, but luckily the fan kicked in each time the needle on the temperature gauge got scary.

Once again, the landscape's slow evolution from one vegetation type to another proved hypnotic. But now we were getting animals added into the mix. There were cows EVERYWHERE! Australia is clearly too big and sparsely populated to have fences across it all over the place; the consequence is that livestock roam free and you have to watch out if you're using the roads.

Our first stop after Kununarra was at Halls Creek, a town which is notable mainly for being somewhere to stop after Kununarra to get fuel. We reached it in the worst heat of the day, and thankfully there was a green open space in the centre of the one road that constitutes this township where we could stop to have a bite to eat. We also discovered Halls Creek's hidden charm: a public toilet that sings to you, gives you a precise dose of toilet paper, and won't let you out again until you've washed your hands!

Our next stop, after a brief pause to gather wonderful quartz stones from the side of the road at a particularly alluring side-of-the-road parking area and an even briefer pause to have my driving licence checked by a passing police patrol, was at Fitzroy Crossing. The sun was just setting as we pulled into the petrol station (or servo, as they call them here) - a fact that strongly improved my impression of the town, hiding its worst uglinesses as it did in a dreamy wash of pinks, purples and (most importantly) shadow.

From there on, the drive was a little bit cooler. The desert air was still hot as it rushed over our arms (and the passenger's feet stuck out of the side window) but it wasn't being superheated by that bloody big yellow thing in the sky any more. It was our first long stint of night driving, and we had some excellent "road train" experiences: these are big articulated lorries that can have up to five trailers hooked onto one cab. They're monsters!

At one point as we headed west, we found ourselves driving through a stand of eucalyptus that smelled just delightful. It was like driving through a cough sweet! We pulled up on the forecourt of a small roadhouse just after this forest to swap drivers, and soon found ourselves surrounded by a press of cattle. It might have been a cute scene by day, but in the black of night there was something sinister about this bovine blanket that smothered our campervan. We drove away as soon as we could, and on into the inky black yonder, the only light thousands of diamond sparkles in the sky.

We were knackered, but we had a goal: THE OCEAN! Finally, finally, we reached Broome and headed straight for Cable Beach, an expanse of fine white sand just to the north of town. By this time every single surface in the van - the dashboard, the steering wheel, the windows, the water bottles, our arms & legs - was coated in a slick of sun cream mixed with desert dust. It was really quite repellent. The only thing for it was a midnight swim under the stars, with an exfoliating wash of sandy seawater to strip away the ickyness of the day. And then we slept in a dark corner of the car park, refreshed and relieved.

So, what does one do when one is sitting in the waiting room of the emergency department of a hospital in Perth? The answer on this occasion is: start writing up my blog for the monster three-week trip around the north and west of Australia that has just ended. Rainnie is ill - hopefully nothing too serious - and I'm using her laptop.

It's a good job I've taken notes of everything we've done as we went along. There is simply no way I could write down all that we've experienced in these last 21 days without an aide memoire. We've done SO MUCH! So let me scrabble about in my bag for a moment and retrieve my little diary book thing...

Let's start where I left off, with the flight down from Sydney to Melbourne. It was late leaving, which was a bit shite, and they charged me an obscene amount of money for fully 2kg of excess baggage, which was a lot shite, especially as it was a bottle of duty free that I wasn't allowed to take on as hand luggage in these ludicrous "if there are no liquids in your bag you won't be blown up by terrorists" times we live in. But enough ranting.

Rainnie picked me up from Tullamarine airport and we had a joyous meeting. I haven't seen Rainnie since we were diving together in the Philippines two years ago. How lovely it was to have her once again before me!!

We drove to hers, dumped my bags in her room, and then got ready to head out again. We cycled to the Little Creatures brewhouse on Brunswick Street in Fitzroy and met up with her friends Ros & Jess and their brother who was down visiting from Brisbane.

It was great cycling in Melbourne. The weather was fine and warm, the bike path along the Merri Creek (which flows past Rainnie's house) pleasant, and the view of Melbourne's CBD skyline was delicious! Once we reached the brewhouse I quickly changed into a fresh teeshirt round the corner. We proceeded to drink ourselves silly and eat some slightly disappointingly small but otherwise tasty snacks, ending the evening down the road in a funky cocktail bar.

Sunday morning was sore head central, but at least we had most of the day to recover and get ready for our Big Trip. We headed down Lygon Street for a delicious breakfast of poached eggs, Persian feta, beetroot chutney and scrummy avocado. Then we did a spot of shopping & whatnot in town - including for me a quick trip to Carlton to see my old house aaah!

That afternoon we packed our bags and had a final fish & chips session with Rainnie's housemates Leah & Bron before setting off for our Big Trip. And so I come to the flight up from Melbourne to Darwin. Leah was kind enough to bring us out to the airport in her vintage VW Golf, and we checked in without problems. A coffee and a water later, we were on board our plane and could settle in for the three-hour flight.

The last time I'd been to Darwin airport, we'd had to do an emergency landing on the way from Hong Kong to Sydney to let someone off who'd had a heart attack. This visit was much less stressful. Even though it was already midnight, the heat was like a brick wall as we left the terminal building and queued up for a taxi. I was back in the tropics again, after only having just left them behind me on Phuket!

Our room in the backpacker hostel was pokey and not really very nice, but it was only for a night so we didn't care. And it did offer us shelter from the enormous thunderstorm that passed over us about five minutes after we got there! There was a swimming pool but it didn't look too inviting; I'm not sure I've ever seen water that particular shade of grey in a public swimming facility before...

The next day we headed out to find a coffee and then collected our campervan, our home for the next three weeks. There was a certain amount of paperwork and faffing but an hour later we were on the road. We went back for our luggage and then parked up outside, so we could walk down to the harbour.

It turned into a monster walk in the heat, and we were both pretty bowled over by the tropical temperatures. A nice lady in a big car - she was checking bee traps set by the customs officials in the area around the port, to make sure no evil species had arrived on a passing ship - gave us a lift from the shitty end of the harbour where we'd ended up (it's a construction site at the moment) round to the nice end. There we treated ourselves to a Thai meal because we were feeling so tropical.

We walked back into town, past the new artifiicial lagoon (a bit like the one in Cairns), and had another coffee before doing a spot of shopping for our trip. Then we spent ages trying to find a campsite for the night. All the ones that were marked on the "Welcome to Darwin" brochure we got in the airport seemed to be nonexistent, but eventually we found one out past the airport. It turned out to be lovely, with a fabulous swimming pool, spotlessly clean gas barbecues and great facilities.

On Tuesday we drove back into Darwin to do some more shopping, including a little FM radio transmitter for my iPod so we could listen to tunes on the van's radio. We also went to a huge Chinese supermarket outside town to pick up supplies and a giant chopper (the utensils provided with the can left much to be desired). One final stop at a hardware store to buy and then fit mosquito screens to the van's windows - can you believe they gave us a van that didn't have mozzie screens! - and then we headed out on our road trip.

And boy, were we glad we'd bought the iPod transmitter thing! We turned the radio on as we left Darwin, and found ourselves listening to some weirdy religious broadcast, with some guy going on about how all things fade away but only God remains. The message is conventional enough, but the guy chose the coolest list of false permanencies: "...the pyramids of Egypt, the Mona Lisa, Andre Agassi..." - no, really! Topical, okay, but OH PUR-LEEEEAZE!

Our first destination was Litchfield National Park, where we visited huge termite mounds before parking up near the Buley Rockholes. These are lovely little natural swimming holes. We weren't the only ones enjoying the refreshing waters either: a lizard actually jumped in and swam with us! After washing the day's dust off ourselves we were ready for a bite to eat, so we headed back to the van, lit a fire, and cooked up a big veggie barbie which we washed down with cider. Yum!

A kangaroo came and watched us eat, and birds swooped down to catch the flies that had gathered around us. Then the sun set over the parched landscape of eucalyptus trees and scrub, and soon we were enveloped in a stunning night sky, its velvety blackness studded with pinpricks of diamond.

On Wednesday we had a fabulous morning swim in one of the bigger Buley Rockholes (where Rainnie started teaching me how to dive into water - because I'm crap and I can't) and then walked on downstream to the Florence Falls. Oh boy! What an incredible place! A huge waterfall cascading down into a huge pool, the water crystal clear and full of big fat fish. There weren't even too many other tourists there at that time of the day, so we could swim and splash and enjoy ourselves to the full.

We cadged a lift back to our van off the driver of a small tour bus who had just brought his group to the falls. This was much preferable to the stinging heat of the tropical sun, especially now that it was even higher in the sky than when we had set out that morning. Back at the van, we packed up and set off to see some more of the National Park.

On our way to Wangi Falls we found a section of scrubland right by the road on fire! Of course, fire is a natural part of the life cycle of the plants around here, so there was no panic or fire engines or such. We just took some pictures and moved on. After a swim at Wangi Falls (where the water was really hot) we drove past the Tolmer Falls, where we had spectacular views over the eucalyptus forest that stretched in all directions to the horizon. Then we headed out of the park and south on the Stuart Highway.

We had our first panic of the trip that evening, when we discovered how unreliable the petrol gauge on the van is. It seemed fine for a long time, then suddenly started dropping at an alarming speed - and we were miles from the next petrol station! We were lucky though and made it to a roadhouse with fuel, so we weren't stranded at the side of the highway, with no mobile phone reception and almost no passing traffic. It was a lesson to me on remoteness, which as a European is not a concept I have much direct experience of.

We took a road off the main highway to the Douglas Daly Hot Springs, which had been recommended to us as a good place to visit by the lady sat next to Rainnie on the plane up from Melbourne. The sun was already down and my second lesson in remoteness started to come out of the bush: wildlife. Luckily for me, Rainnie is incredibly good at spotting kangaroos (and sheep, goats, emus, cows, lizards, snakes and rabbits - but I'm getting ahead of myself) at the side of the road, so we didn't have any collisions, even when the tarmac ran out and the road became not much more than a path beaten into the red earth.

And no sooner had we parked up in the camp ground - a very spartan affair, with no more than a toilet block and some bins - than another huge tropical thunderstorm engulfed us. The ground turned into a lake, as all the rainwater failed to soak in at once, and it looked as though we were in the middle of a mudslide. But soon the storm subsided and maybe an hour later all the water had disappeared. Incredible.

On Thursday morning we went to have a look at the hot springs, and discovered that they are bloody hot! There was no way we could swim in the water, even though the hot spring itself flowed into a (cold) river, because this being dry season the level of the river was far too low to compensate. And, to be honest, even if we had been physically able to swim there, I wouldn't have wanted to because the whole place stank with the sulphurous fumes associated with the spring, and the sandy muddy soil was like glue. On the plus side though, I found a frog in the shower when I was trying to get the mud off my feet.

We left the Douglas Daly Hot Springs and headed to the Edith falls further south. The falls aren't huge but the lake at their foot is enormous - and great for swimming in. We had a picnic there after our swim and then drove to Katherine. It's the first town of any size since Darwin, but it's really not much more than a main drag with some supermarkets, some petrol stations, and a few shops. Thankfully there was a decent coffee shop there, so we had a soy latte and then made our way up to the Katherine Gorge, which lies in Nitmiluk National Park.

The campsite at Katherine Gorge is fantastic, with another marvellous swimming pool like the one outside Darwin. We did our first load of washing there, and made the discovery that Australian desert dirt doesn't really wash out. Ah well, I can just pretend my white teeshirts are deliberately tie-dyed or something... I had bought a tent in Katherine, because it was pretty cramped and too stuffy in the van for me & Rainnie to sleep well, and Rainnie proceeded to use the tent for the rest of the trip (except where we couldn't put it up).

Ah, Australia, Australia, Australia! What a fine place! How I've missed you.

No sooner had we touched down in Sydney's Kingsford Smith airport than an irrepressible grin started to spread across my face at the thought of where I was and what awaited me here. The friendliness of the natives made itself apparent even BEFORE I'd cleared immigration. In fact, I was barely off the plane when customs officials made us line up in single file so they could pass the sniffer dogs along us. It was the affable cry of "Good Boy!" that one of the handlers let out as his hound reached the end of the queue that started my grin. Then the guy whose job it was to tell people which passport control queue to queue in was warm & humorous. The guy at the desk who checked my passport was friendly too. Even the people scanning the luggage were chatty.

So it was no surprise to me at all that the lady who sold me my first Aussie coffee was a hilarious, cheeky chatterbox. And so it went on: the super smiley guy at the Vodafone counter who actually told me the truth about it being cheaper to buy a SIM card in the supermarket, the random guy in the lift down to the trains, the lady behind the train ticket counter, the guy in Kings Cross station who I asked for directions. They were all SO cheerful! And not in that American, seemingly forced way either. I was reminded again and again how genuine Australians' niceness really is.

So anyway, after changing out of my skanky travel clothes at the airport I caught a train into Kings Cross and headed on foot downhill to Woolloomooloo. There I waited in a small park (okay I slept for a bit under a huge gum tree) for Johannes to come home and let me in. As it turns out, I ended up staying with his friend Alan who lives in the same building. That way I could have a room of my own, rather than crashing on the living room floor.

I lad lunch with Johannes at a place up the hill in Potts Point, where we had a super friendly waiter called Stefano. Next I bought a SIM card and contacted everyone I know in Australia to give them my new number, then went back to Alan's to settle in (okay I slept a bit more - well I was a bit jetlagged). That evening I took a taxi with Johannes (with a super friendly driver) to a pub in the south of the city and had a beer with him there (with a super friendly waitress). Then we went to a tiny theatre round the corner (where I met a super friendly South African) to watch a production of As You Like It. We finished our evening with a drink & gelato and then caught the train home.

On Wednesday I had an early start to meet Kate at Circular Quay. I walked across the Botanic Gardens to get there and was amazed first by all the bloody flies and then by all the swallows that were swooping around at knee-height eating said flies hurrah! My meeting with Kate was one of those ones where you're so busy looking everywhere find the person you're meeting that you totally don't see them when they creep up on you!

We walked around to the Marriott hotel on the waterfront for brekky, sharing a delicious portion of eggs benedict (ah! I haven't had them since the last time I was in Oz, I think!). Then we wandered around the city, catching up on all our gossip. I ended up doing all sorts of shopping: for a new camera case in a Crumpler store, for an Aussie Akubra hat in the QVC (okay I didn't actually buy it), for shorts & a cap in the Haymarket.

We had a delicious noodle lunch at my all-time favourite noodle bar near Haymarket. Oh what joy it was to be there again!!!! After the huge food we were super full, so we waddled to the nearby Pumphouse pub for a posh drink, then strolled through Darling Harbour and on into town. We bid each other farewell at Hyde Park, whence I walked down the hill to Woolloomooloo. That evening I had a German dinner at Maggie's with Johannes and Alan and their friends Robert, Mark & Tony. We followed this up with gelato in Potts Point and then headed home.

Thursday was a bit of a housekeepingy nothingy day, with lots of emailing etc. (Yes folks, that's the last time I updated my blog.) I had dinner that evening at Johannes' place with his houseguest Suzanne and his friend Mark who I'd met the night before. Johannes cooked a lovely risotto and we talked about all sorts. It was great! After dinner Mark, Johannes & I headed up the hill to grab some more amazing gelato, and on our long meandering walk back to Woolloomooloo we visited the flat where the latest series of a cult Australian drama programme is being filmed. Mark is the props manager for the filming, so the overnight security guard recognised him and let us in for a look around.

On Friday I did the long walk all the way round Mrs Macquarie's Chair to Circular Quay, then caught a ferry to Parramatta to see what all the fuss is about. (Parramatta doesn't have a very good press amongst Sydneysiders who live in more salubrious parts of the city.) The ferry journey was delightful, taking me from the hustle & bustle of Circular Quay under the famous Sydney Harbour Bridge and then along past all the posh waterfront housing. I was surprised when we started sailing through mangroves, having forgotten how warm Sydney really is.

When we reached Parramatta I walked along a jacaranda-lined path into town and then visited Old Government House, the first seat of the leader of the original colony of New South Wales. To be honest, there's really bugger all else in Parramatta except cheesy dollar shops and scary-looking people, so I took a train back to Sydney and comforted myself with bubble tea in a Chinese place near the station.

I spent the rest of the afternoon just walking all over town. And then, just as I reached home, I saw Johannes & Suzanne leaving together so I caught up with them to ask where they were off to. It turns out that for a short time only there's an art trail through all the little back lanes in the CBD, with art installations at strategic points to make you reconsider your relationship with the city. Thankfully, there's an arty-alternative bar at the last installation where you can grab some arty -alternative cocktails (served in jam jars) and consider the walk.

I had walked past a Japanese noodle bar that caught my fancy, so I headed there for dinner after the walk, then met up with Johannes to go for a few drinks on Oxford Street that evening. We caught up with his friends Robert, Richard & Peter, had a few beers, then walked home.

And so I came very quickly to my last day in Sydney. I just about had time to pack my bags and have a quick breakfast up the hill (at Stefano's place) with Johannes, Suzanne & Mark, and then it was time for me to catch the train back to the airport. Destination: Melbourne!

Greetings, my mostly northern-hemisphere chums, from Down Under! Yes, I've made it all the way round to Australia, where I shall be spending the next couple of months getting hot and sweaty in the southern summer sun.

I just thought I'd write a few words about the week I spent in Thailand, half-way here more or less, and leave the start of my Aussie stories to the next blog. So here goes:

It all started with a series of rather risky flight connections that were all under two hours. The things we do to save money! On Monday I flew from Munich to London Gatwick, from Gatwick to Dubai, from Dubai to Bangkok, and from Bangkok to Phuket. Only the Dubai-Bangkok connection was guaranteed; the rest was all with different airlines! But I got away with it - this time...

I arrived at my final destination, Phuket, on Tuesday afternoon. I was met at the airport by my friend Andrew, who I'd last seen - fittingly enough - on my last day in Australia, just as I left to go back to Europe back in '05. Andrew & Chris were kind enough to invite me to stay with them in their gorgeous house on Phuket island, where they now live.

The weather was a bit grey and wet - but it was HOT HOT HOT! Such a change from the wintry stuff I'd left behind me in Munich. But then again, we're practically on the equator here so it's no surprise that it's tropical and steamy.

After a very welcome shower & a quick swim in their pool, Andrew & I went to pick up Chris from his work in Phuket City, where he lectures to students who are learning to be TEFL English teachers. From there we drove to the Phuket Brewery, a restaurant and bar with its own brews which is housed in a building that looks like a ship. I didn't dare try their Weissbier or their Dunkel, but their Pilsner was very refreshing.

The food at the Phuket Brewery was delicious! Oh how I love Thai food! I had a spicy squid salad that after the first mouthful I thought might defeat me it was so chilified. But in fact it was just that I managed somehow to get a huge piece of chili on the very first forkload. From there on in, once I'd regained sensation in my tongue, the salad was spicy but delicious.

My first full day, Wednesday, was very relaxed. I had some fruit for breakfast, did a spot of emailing, and then basically lounged by the pool. We drove Chris into work at lunchtime, stopping briefly to pick up some super tasty pockets of chili pork and vegetables wrapped in fresh rice paper, then Andrew took me to the Lighthouse restaurant at Chalong bay. This is where most of the dive boats leave from, and it's very much a working port, with hundreds of boats bobbing in the clear turquoise waters.

After lunch, we drove south to Rawai, the area in the bottom lefthand corner of Phuket, to see the beautiful beach at Rawai bay. Then we went inland to Wat Chalong. This temple is not very old, but it's quite a big complex altogether, with all the ingredients of a buddhist place of worship: temples, a bell tower, a huge urn for incense burning, gardens, palaces, and a little market.

That evening we picked up Chris from work and drove across the island, past the "honking temple" (where people toot their horns as they drive past for good luck), through Patong on the west coast and up to Surin beach, to one of their favourite beach bars. The plan was to have cocktails and watch the sun go down, but alas it was raining! So we just had a quick beer or two and then headed to dinner at a restaurant called Black Cat which is owned and run by a Frenchman and his Thai wife - whose name really is "Miao"!

Thursday was similarly relaxed to Wednesday, with a morning of fruit, pool and sun lounger, a light lunch at home, and another sightseeing drive courtesy of Andrew. This time we went down the west coast to the Karon Viewpoint, from which you have a huge view back up the coast over Kata and Karon beaches. Then we stopped for a quick drink at Ao Sane beach, a tiny little beach with just one drinks shack and a handful of bathers.

From there we drove along Rawai bay again and then up to the Big Buddha, currently being built up on the second-tallest hill on the island. Standing at his enormous feet, you get fantastic views over the whole of the east coast, from Phuket City down across Chalong and all the way to Laem Phromthep, Phuket's southernmost point. And, most excitingly of all, we saw a troupe of macaques feeding in the trees around the base of the Buddha platform!

From the Big Buddha we drove to pick up Chris, then headed to the beach bar at Hat Bang Tao, in the middle of Bang Tao bay, near where the enormous Laguna Phuket hotel & aparment complex has been built around the flooded tin mines which are now indeed lagoons. This evening, it was sunny so we actually got to see the sunset - hooray! Once it was dark, we headed home for gin & tonics and a spot of dinner.

Friday was once again relaxed in the morning. For lunch the three of us went to an expat pub at Tinlay Place. In the absence of any Thai food, but craving another chili fix, I had a chicken jalfrezi from the Indian section of the menu. It was good! After lunch, we spent the afternoon at Nai Thon beach on the northwest coast. The water was like a hot bath! Every now and then there were some enormous waves, but by and large it was calm and restful. I walked quite a way up and down the beach as well as swimming in those delightful waters. A real beach treat!

After a couple of hours there we drove home, had showers, then headed back out for sundowners at Layan beach, north of Bang Thao. At last I had a sunset straight into the Andaman sea! But the sun's timing was impeccable: less than ten minutes later, a huge rainstorm rushed down from the north and obliterated the entire view out to sea. It was so wet, we hesitated to leave the safety of the beach bar to go back to the car, but a very kind waitress took up a sun shade and escorted us across to where the car was parked.

We drove through pouring rain and along invisible roads to the airport to pick up my mate Matthias, who was starting a two-week holiday of his own in Thailand by catching up with me for the weekend. But by the time he was through immigration and had his bags, the rain had died off. We headed home to get Matthias showered & changed after his long flight from Munich through Singapore, then back out for dinner at Black Cat.

Saturday was a truly unrelaxed, hectic day! Poor Matthias, barely arrived from Europe, and I was making him get up at six thirty. But I had good reason: I'd organised a day's diving for us both. Chris' Thai friend Cam is a freelance tour guide and travel operator, and he had assisted me in sorting out some diving. He also chauffeured us to Chalong to catch our boat.

We dived with South Siam Divers, one of the biggest outfits on the island. The boat took us to three dive sites: Koh Dok Mai (where we saw ghost pipefish and nudibranchs); the King Cruiser wreck (which boasts Phuket's most famous toilets); and lastly Shark Point (which lived up to its name, because we saw not one but TWO leopard sharks!!).

It was a strenuous day - even for me, rested as I was from lots of lazy days, but especially for Matthias, who had only had about three hours' sleep. Cam picked us up and took us home, where we could have a little rest before heading out for the night: Chris & Andrew were taking us into Patong, that den of sin & vice...

The trip there was already exciting. We drove part of the way, then grabbed a tuk tuk into Patong. Our first stop was for dinner at Yo Yo, which has fabulous food and very friendly staff. Then we took a walk along Bangla road, where all sorts of people get up to all sorts of things - made all the more intriguing this weekend by there being 3,000 American marines on shore leave!

There was really nothing at all attractive about Bangla road or its inhabitants, so after gawping for a short while at all the drunk tourists and all the cheap prostitutes we headed for drinks behind the Paradise Hotel at Time bar (where we met the owners Dan & Jessica, friends of Chris & Andrew). We finished the evening with a halloween-themed ladyboy show at Boat Bar. It was quite disturbing to see ugly men dressed as pretty women disguised as hideous undead!

Sunday was blissfully relaxed. In fact, I didn't wake up until after 1pm! We lazed the rest of the afternoon away by the pool, and then went for sundowners and dinner at Laypang restaurant on Laypang beach in the middle of Bang Thao bay. This is Chris & Andrew's favourite restaurant, and it' easy to understand why. The location is idyllic, with tables on a raised platform stretching out into the inviting sands. The food is delicious and keenly priced. And the cocktails were the best I'd had all week - and cheap too!

Having missed the Vegetarian festival by one day (so I was spared the sight of priests in trance shoving pokers through their cheeks and then carrying baskets of fruit on either end), and being set to miss the Loi Krathong festival (where people honour the water spirit by the light of the full moon), I was most pleased when we spied lantern-sellers making their way down the beach! It meant I could take part at least in the build-up to Loi Krathong and send up a lantern (and a wish) into the night sky. My lantern was given extra oomph by having a tail made of sparklers attached to it, which made it look like a slow-motion space rocket as it rose up up and away.

After a delightful dinner, we headed home for a few more drinks and a midnight dip in the pool. What a lovely day!

And then it was Monday, my last day in Thailand. I got packed, had a final swim, and then headed to the airport with Cam to catch my AirAsia flight back to Bangkok. There I transferred my luggage to Emirates, cleared immigration and set out on the final outward leg of my journey - to Australia!

The countdown to Australia has started...

What does one do in one's last week in Munich for a couple of months? Well, in my case the answer is panic. In as panicked a way as I'm capable of, which isn't really that panicked really. But nonetheless, I'm getting a serious case of Reisefieber, as they say here. My thoughts are turning more and more to distant lands.

But there are still a few things to do, like sort out my flat so that my flat-sitter can move in. And of course meet up with friends who I won't be seeing for a while. Breakfast with Christian, lunch with Thomas, dinner with Paul, a final choir rehearsal, cocktails with my EPO girls.

Not to mention sorting out the increasingly complex saga of the new bathroom in the flat in the UK. Argh! It's bad enough when you've got that sort of thing to do on your doorstep. Somehow, arranging for plumbers to go round and give you quotes is a tad trickier when you're sitting in the wrong country.

*****

It's tomorrow now, and I've got to mention a little happening from when I was in Bamberg with Justin, Sam & the girls which isn't in my ever-so-cursory blog of that week but which I remembered last night in the pub after a fantastic concert of a cappella modern classical music by a choir called Collegium Vocale - check them out at http://www.collegium-vocale-muenchen.de/ - with a few members of my choir. Erm, where was I? Oh yes, the story in Bamberg:

Well, I wrote that we had to drive the wrong way down a one-way street at the behest of a slightly irate - and armed - policeman. Well, as we were inching down the bendy road, fearing a head-on collision at any moment, an old lady who was sweeping her hallway emerged and started totally having a go at us for going the wrong way down her street! But I told her that a policeman had told us to do it, and her whole demeanour changed suddenly from one of affronted-regulations to one of cowering-before-authority. It was most amusing!

*****

Right, I'm having to unplug my PC now and pack it away. (Of course, by the time I actually publish this post, I'll already be somewhere exciting and tropical, but let's stick with the present tense just for the narrative immediacy of it, shall we?) Tara for now!

It feels like I haven't stopped living la vida loca in MONTHS!! But, then again, looking back at my diary since July, it's TRUE!!!

So it was strangely pleasant to have a few days of nothing much, at home in Munich. I had a few lunch & dinner appointments, and I also had the stress of trying to sort out some plumbing problems in my flat in the UK, but mostly I was able to just chill out and start getting ready for the next phase of my adventures in November. In the suddenly freezing cold - even snowy - weather, I wasn't up for much more than that in any case.

There was one more excitement in store for me, however: a weekend in Cracow with Béné. Ladies & gentlemen, I HAD A NEW COUNTRY!!!!!! Having never been to Poland, I was very excited about this trip.

We drove to Memmingen airport (ludicrously referred to as "Munich West" - although, the actual Munich airport is also really quite far from town) and flew from there to Katowice in Silesia. From there we got the bus transfer to Kraków, which took 90 minutes - as long as the flight, in other words.

Once we'd arrived in Cracow we walked through the historic Old Town, taking in some of the sights but mostly just hoping the rain wouldn't get any heavier. Our hotel was in Kazimierz, the old Jewish quarter of the city, just south of the Old Town and east of the Wawel castle. After checking in we headed out to look for a restaurant.

There were lots of restaurants and bars in the area, but they all seemed very empty. In the end we plumped for a place specialising in pierogi, small dumplings with a variety of fillings. We had a portion of lamb & rosemary, a portion of liver & bacon, and a portion of plums & cinnamon. Tasty! Following that, we had a couple of drinks in a bar and then headed back to the hotel.

Sunday was a full day, with lots of sightseeing and - thankfully - no rain. We walked up to the Wawel castle, and from there on into the Old Town, visiting church after church. So many of them were full of worshippers! The Poles take their religion seriously. The church of St Mary on the main square is fabulous.

We were a bit thirsty after all that sightseeing, so we found a funky bar with newspaper clippings all over the walls and had a beer. Then we went to a splendid restaurant called Miód Malina for a delicious lunch of Polish specialities. I had bigos, a kind of meat & cabbage stew. Yum! After a couple of schnapses (I had a DIVINE sliwowica or plum schnaps) and a portion of plum dumplings just like the ones you get in Austria, we headed to the tourist info office and joined a tour group to the salt mines at Wieliczka.

The mines were fascinating! Some 350m deep, although tourists only go down half that far, they have been worked since the middle ages and only recently stopped producing salt. There is cavern after cavern down there, many decorated with salt sculptures, salt altars, and even a whole salt church, with every bit of it carved out of the walls of the cavern. Well worth a visit!

When we got back to Kraków, it was already dark. We decided to attend a concert of chamber music in the church of St Peter & St Paul. The pianist was technically excellent but he lacked expression. Actually, what he lacked was warmth of spirit. Pity. The string quintet were also impressive. But by the end of the concert we were both FREEZING!

We rushed across the Old Town to a restaurant called Chlopskie Jadlo, recommended by Aleks and warmed ourselves over piles of hearty food: bread smeared with lard and sour cream & chives; a warming sour cream & potato soup; smoked mackerel in a creamy apple & onion sauce; roast pork with prunes; turkey pieces in a creamy mushroom sauce. Funnily enough, we didn't have space for a dessert! But then again, my hot beer with fruit compote in it was sort of desserty...

Suitably warmed, we made our way back through town at a more leisurely pace. I took lots of atmospheric photos. It felt really quite Christmassy. I can imagine Kraków being a great place to do Xmas markets - provided you're wearing your thermals.

On Monday we did lots more sightseeing. We took in Kazimierz, visiting the Old Synagogue which is now a museum. Then a few churches - just for a change! Then we found ourselves on the bank of the Vistula river. And - shock horror - the sun was out! We took our climatic cue and hopped on board a floating bar for a cheeky lunchtime beer with views onto the Wawel castle. By the time we'd finished our beers, the sun was gone again. But no matter: we'd needed our sunglasses after all!

Just by our bar was the take-off and landing platform for a tethered hot-air balloon that affords views over the whole city. Neither Béné nor I had ever been in a balloon, so we jumped at the chance. I have to admit, it was a whole lot scarier than I thought it would be! I had a few visions of the cable snapping and us drifting off into the wild grey yonder, or of the balloon collapsing and us hurtling back to the ground. But mostly I tried to take my mind off these thoughts by enjoying the view - and shivering in the icy wind.

Back on terra firma, we walked past Wawel and into the Old Town from the other side. We headed to a Georgian restaurant for a late lunch of khatchapuri, or cheesy bread with roast vegetables and chicken, and a bottle of just-about-not-too-sweet Georgian red wine. After the meal we continued our meanderings through the Old Town, exploring the northern end a bit more. Churches, some churches, and a few churches. Oh, and a theatre!

After some more scenic nighttime photos, we wound up in a cellar bar and, following the waitress' advice, drank some lemon curaçao shooters. Not quite sure why now, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Then we headed back to the hotel for a quick freshen-up before finding a bite to eat nearby and one last drink before turning in.

And suddenly it was Tuesday morning and time for us to leave. The weather decided to be sad at our departure and it was rainy and nasty for the short walk to the tram stop. The tram was packed solid, but we were only in it for about eight minutes. And at the bus station we found our minibus quickly. An hour and a half later we were at the airport, with a few hours to wait.

The weather cleared up somewhere over Austria, and I had a fabulous view of the Alps as we came in south of Munich to land at Memmingen. Sunny & almost warm! That made it a lot easier to be home again after a fab weekend with Béné.

I thought of a fantastic way to avoid being depressed at the end of the excitements of Oktoberfest: go on a huge trip around the whole of Germany for a week!

On Monday morning, Lorna & I travelled together to Munich airport. She flew back to Düsseldorf, whilst I flew up to Berlin. I was met at Tegel airport by Chris, my good friend from Canberra who I haven't seen since I was living in Australia.

We had a lovely day, catching up on news and gossip. I met Chris' friends who he was in Berlin with for the weekend (who, incidentally, were kind enough to let me stay in the flat they had rented for their visit just near Nollendorfplatz).

It was so cold! After the gorgeous weather of the Oktoberfest fortnight, it was a real shock to the system to have to wear a hat & gloves. Luckily, I'd brought them with me. And luckily also, it didn't rain or anything silly like that. But talk about sudden arrival of winter!

We had lunch in KDW, the huge department store in West Berlin that was such a symbol of capitalist decadence during the Cold War. Then we went for a long walk all through the city, ending up at the Hackescher Markt. There I introduced Chris to onion cake & Federweißer.

That evening, we met up with his friends again at the television tower on Alexanderplatz. We were going to go up, but we would have had to wait an hour, so we decided instead to grab a bite to eat in a huge but nonetheless perfectly acceptable Italian place just by the Rotes Rathaus.

After that, we headed out for a few drinks in the vicinity of the flat. I have to admit, I was a little disappointed that there was so little going on. Okay, it was a Monday night and it was cold, but come on, this is Berlin for Christ's sake!

On Tuesday morning Chris had to dash to the airport early to catch a plane to the UK. I had a few more hours before my flight to Düsseldorf, so I had a brunch with Chris' mates and then made my way out to the airport. In Düsseldorf I caught the bus to Lorna's place and met here just coming in from work. We had a quick chat and a drinkie, then headed out to meet the rest of the E.ON UK crew.

I was soooooo excited to see so many people I hadn't seen in years!! Claire was there, René was there, Eva was there. And of course I saw Lorna, Phil, Charlotte, and Ali, as well as Annika who I'd met in Munich a few years ago. What a lovely evening!!

Wednesday was my day for travelling to Bonn. I was met at the station by my friend Andreas, and after dumping my stuff back at his we headed into town for an evening's stroll through the centre. We ended up at an Indian restaurant, had a few drinks at the studenty indy bar next door, then called it a night. And we got back to Andreas' flat just in time: the mother of all thunderstorms came over and gave a spectacular light & sound show about ten seconds after we walked through the front door.

After breakfast on Thursday, we headed through the centre of town and out to the south, to where all the German parliament buildings were located until the decision to move everything to Berlin after unification. From there, we worked our way slowly north, through the posh fin-de-siècle suburbs to the southwest of town (where we stopped for lunch) and on past the university into town. After a walk through the middle, we stopped to admire the view up the Rhine before grabbing a coffee in a classic grannies' coffee house. Then I had to go to the station already! Not fair!

But it was fair really, because it meant I could have dinner with Lorna & Annika, then a drink with those two lovely ladies plus Phil. And of course a cheeky nightcap at Lorna's before turning in and getting ready for the next leg of my big journey.

Because on Friday I caught the train to Leipzig. It was a journey of almost six hours right across the heart of Germany, industrial cities giving way to fields, countryside, forests, small towns, more fields, more down-at-heel towns, and finally the city of Leipzig. I was met at the station by Dietmar & Dirk, my hosts for the weekend. I hadn't seen them in a good few years, so it was lovely to catch up with them again!

I had a marvellous weekend with them, which started that very evening: 20 years ago to the day, the big peace marches started that ultimately brought down the Communist government of East Germany and led to unification. It was a very moving experience to walk, candle in hand, with 100,000 other people along the very route that people had taken back then. This time, instead of tanks and riot police, the marchers were accompanied by art installations and footage of the original marches beamed massively onto the sides of buildings.

I can't stress enough how amazing it was to be there. I remember, 20 years earlier as a schoolboy in England, seeing the marches on television and thinking "this is history in the making". And now here I was, reliving those moments on the very soil where they took place, and surrounded by people who had lived through those incredible times. Overwhelming.

On Saturday, after a lazy morning and a generous breakfast, Dietmar & Dirk took me all through Leipzig to see the whole city, including the view from the top of the tallest tower in town. The weather was so-so, but the rain held off for most of the day. Leipzig today bears almost no resemblance to the weary, dreary, post-Communist conurbation that I visited back in 1993. Many many buildings - but still not all - have been restored to their pre-War glory and the city shines in renewed urban pride.

That evening, we went for dinner with four friends of Dietmar's that were also visiting that weekend. Ralf and Dirk were also staying at Dietmar's place; luckily there's plenty of room for guests in his flat! After dinner we all went on to the BärenStolz party, where I got to meet some of Dietmar & Dirk's other friends & acquaintances. We stayed there until around two o'clock, then caught the night tram back home. A good night was had by all.

On Sunday, Dietmar laid on another sumptuous breakfast, then Ralf & Dirk carried on up to Rostock (where they were spending a week's holiday). The three of us went into town and had a quick coffee at the station, and then *sniff* it was time for me to leave. I just made it onto my train to Munich in time! As the train pulled away, I waved goodbye to Dietmar & Dirk, truly the hosts with the most.

Just because I was back in Munich didn't mean the fun was at an end. Quite the opposite in fact! Because just one day after getting back from Paris, I was due to climb up the roof of the Olympic Stadium with Christian. We got there in the early evening, the sun already a dark yellow but still a way off from setting, and joined the group. There were ten of us intrepid climber types.

First stop was a room to watch a half-hour video of the history of the Olympic Park - with original 1970s backing music. I could barely resist the urge to jump up and disco dance. Then we got our safety harnesses and ropes and headed back outside to the roof. The sun was orange but still visible.

And so we climbed up the steep initial section and on to the slightly shallower main curve of the edge of the roof. The plastic panels are riveted to lengths of rubber and connected to spans of thick wire, such that the whole roof is suspended from essentially one metal string! Crazy. The views from up the top were delightful, especially as the sun was now turning deep ochres and reds and setting the roof ablaze with crepuscular crimsons.

After the final steep descent we could remove our safety gear and amble back through the grounds of the Olympic Park, stopping off to look in on the swimmers in the Olympic pool before heading to the Italian place just off Rosenheimer Platz called Il Cavaliere for a well-earned dinner.

A few lunch appointments later, and suddenly there it was: Oktoberfest 2009!!

I had a fair few visitors this year. First up were Jamie & Claire, over from London. They flew in on Friday lunchtime. We had a few bevvies, did a spot of dirndl shopping (Claire wanted a new one, just so she had a choice of dirndls over the weekend, while Jamie needed braces for his Lederhosen) and then had a few more bevvies, ending up at my very very favourite Vietnamese restaurant, Mama, with Lorna (who had flown in from Düsseldorf that evening). We met this crazy Russian Afghan dude in an Oktoberfest-esque talking-to-strangers-on-your-table way.

And so the opening day of Oktoberfest was upon us. We took it easy in the morning, and got down to the Wiesn just as the cannon were firing their midday salute and the Anstich took place (that's where the mayor of Munich officially taps the first keg of Oktoberfest beer). We were very lucky, because Bénédicte and her parents were already at the Wiesn and managed to secure us some places in the beer garden of the Fischer Vroni tent. We shoehorned ourselves in among the revellers and stayed the rest of the day, getting progressively more merry. Ah, Oktoberfest!

Sunday was a bit messy thanks to the previous day's excesses. We managed to crawl out of the house and grab some lunch at the Paulaner on Maistraße; we couldn't face the shrieking masses on the Wiesn itself. From there we had a few quiet ones at Moro and then had a bite to eat in the Fraunhofer, where I introduced Jamie & Claire to the joys of Federweißer, or this year's fresh white wine. And then we stumbled back to my place, sated.

On Monday morning there was just time for a farewell breakfast of Weißwurst and Weißbier at the Nockherberg beer garden before Jamie & Claire had to head to the airport. I had approximately ten minutes to be sad though, because I hot-footed it back to the Wiesn to meet up with Béné and her French crowd (her parents & their friend Isabelle, her friend Chrystèle & parents & husband Olivier) in the Hacker Festzelt. Béné had booked a lunchtime table, and we had lots of fun eating & drinking & making merry. But after the weekend I'd had, I decided to call it a day when we had to vacate our table at four o'clock. My liver will love me for it.

Barely three days later, I was back at the Oktoberfest with Béné, this time for an evening session in Café Kaiserschmarrn, organised by InterNations. 'A tent with no beer?' I thought to myself in horror, but it turned out to be good fun. The live band were excellent, the cocktails plentiful and the chat with random international strangers entertaining.

On the Friday Christian & I went to the cinema to watch the new Pixar film "Up" in 3D. I'd never seen a 3D film before, and I was very excited to see how good it was. And the answer is: excellent! I thoroughly enjoyed the 3D-ness of it all - and the film is fantastic to boot. I can highly recommend it.

The next day we made the most of the lovely autumn weather by going for a bike ride along the Isar, all the way down to the WaldWirtschaft beer garden, where we met Veronika for a drink or two. She lives close by. I hadn't seen her in ages & ages! Later that evening, Christian & I had dinner with Michaela, Lisa & Claire at Cooperativa in the Glockenbachviertel. I do like the stark décor in there. And the food is tasty too!

On Sunday I had an all-afternoon choir rehearsal. It was tragic to have to sit indoors on such a golden autumn day! But at least the hard work was rewarded in the evening when Uli & Heidrun invited me, Martin & Bernd back to theirs for onion cake and Federweißer. A very pleasant evening was had by all.

The second week of the Oktoberfest saw me back there again and again. First on Monday with Dieter & Harry for a quick litre in the Fischer Vroni, then later the same evening in the Hofbräu tent with Béné, Marie-Laure & a huge crowd of EPO people.

Midweek I had time to spend an afternoon & evening with my nephews, to have breakfast in town with Holger, to research some jobs at the unemployment office with Dieter, to accompany Béné to the vet (her cat Guimauve was gravely ill, but has made a good recovery hurra!) and to have dinner with Christian at Mama.

Then the final weekend of Oktoberfest was upon me. I had the pleasure of hosting Charlotte & Ali, who flew down from Düsseldorf. I met them on Friday morning in town and took them back to mine for a cheese feast. That was followed by some more dirndl shopping (Charlotte indulged, Ali held herself back, and I bought a new check shirt) and then we headed straight to the Wiesn.

This weekend was totally different from last, mainly because Ali was up for going on loads of rides. So it wasn't just drinking; there was also some walking about and some screaming! We did the pitch-black indoor roller-coaster, drank shots, went on the bumper cars, and then settled in the beer garden of the Hofbräu tent, before sneaking in to the Ochsenbraterei for a few cheeky ones in the warm. Then we did the crazy-glasses-makes-it-hard-to-negotiate-the-obstacles thing, and finally the huge Olympic roller-coaster with five loopings. Aaaaargh!

On Saturday we met up with Michaela, the boys & Christian in a beer garden in Perlach - just to make sure we weren't on the Wiesn the WHOLE weekend... After a lovely few hours sitting in the sun that were rounded off by some super ice creams at Pfanzeltplatz, I took the girls back to the Oktoberfest.

First off we went on the big wheel, then we headed to the beer garden of the Bräurosl and eventually found a spot to stand - around a wheelie bin! We were met later on that evening by Matthias. The four of us ended up back on the bumper cars, and then Matthias & I both did the crazy helter-skelter ride that has a mad super-high-speed rubber conveyor belt to get you up to the start of the ride.

Hitherto I'd only ever watched people try - and fail - to get up the conveyor bit, having to be grabbed ignominiously by the attendants and dragged up to the helter-skelter. I'd never even considered having a go myself! But there I was, drunk & up for it. And, shock horror, I DIDN'T fall over! Result!!

The last day of Oktoberfest saw us back there for lunch in the Käfer tent with Béné, her cousin & husband, and Aleks from Berlin (who I hadn't seen since her birthday in May). The food was delicious, the beer was flowing, and the sun was streaming down even hotter than it had been all fortnight. Truly spectacular Wiesn weather.

After lunch, we headed to the Hacker Festzelt to join Michaela, who was there with Kate and her visitors from Wales. I don't know quite how she did it, but Aleks managed to smuggle us right in to the already full and officially impregnable tent. It never ceases to amaze me what blonde hair, big tits & a self-confident smile can achieve!

Argh! Charlotte & Ali had to leave! I accompanied them back to mine and saw them onto the tram. Lorna & Tomasz met us at my place, and so I headed straight back to the Wiesn with them to carry on where I'd left off. We managed finally to get back in to the Hacker (thanks to Aleks' interventions from inside) and had a wonderful evening of it with much singing, dancing - and drinking. Oktoberfest 2009: ten out of ten!!

Friday morning was another fine day, so Martin & I decided to walk up the cliffs next to the beach at Les Petites-Dalles. Up at the top it was very windy, and we had magnificent views along the shore in both directions. There were loads of blackberries up on the top too, and they tasted uniquely salty-sweet thanks to the sea spray.

After lunch at Geneviève's our coach took us to St Martin de Boscherville, a tiny town with a huge church confusingly called St George de Boscherville. This church is the last Romanesque church to be constructed in France - in fact, the finishing touches were already Gothic with pointy arches. It's 1000 years old, built at the time of William the Conqueror, and its incredibly vivid primitive carved decoration seems otherworldly in its difficulty of interpretation for our modern eyes. A fascinating building, with beautiful gardens set around and behind it.

The parish laid on a sumptuous buffet dinner for us (and yes, I ate more than my fair share of cheese - again), and then it was sunset and time for our concert in the marvellous church. The concert went very well, but sadly someone broke in to the parish hall where all our luggage was stored and stole money from a dozen people's wallets. Argh!

The mood in the coach back to Geneviève's was dark as a result, but hearts were warmed that evening through the liberal application of wine & pommeau, the local drink that is a blend of cider & calvados, as well as by a hilarious rendition of classic German cabaret numbers by Klaus, ably accompanied by Stefan on the suitably out-of-tune old piano.

On Saturday we headed into Fécamp, where Geneviève had arranged with her favourite restaurateur for us to have a delicious set menu of fish & seafood. Yum! I popped in to the Benedictine monastery that is home to Bénédictine, the liqueur, to buy a bottle of the sweet stuff. Then a few of us wandered down to the beach. It was bracing but still sunny.

That evening, we gave our final full concert in the abbey church up on the hill. This church is actually a bit longer than Notre Dame in Paris, thanks to regular extensions that were paid for by the huge number of pilgrims who came to see its precious relics. The concert went extremely well, and everyone was in such a good mood afterwards that we partied well into the night back at Geneviève's, with the last of us finally turning in around thee o'clock.

The late night made Sunday morning hard work. Added to which, we had to pack our bags and say goodbye to Les Petites-Dalles, because straight after our appearance in the regular service of the Abbey Church of Fécamp we had to jump in our coach and head back to Paris. The service went well, despite the lung-chokingly huge clouds of incense that were wafted all over the altar and into our faces!

The bus journey back to Paris was uneventful, with a few stops to let people out at Rouen (Christoph was catching a train home from there) and Charles de Gaulle (where most people got out). Back at Kellermann - oh yes, a few hardy souls were staying another night in Paris, me included - we dropped our bags and went straight out for a coffee. There Martin bade us farewell and headed for his train.

I headed out on my own for a bite to eat. I hadn't had any mussels the whole time I was in Normandy! So I made up for that by eating a huge bucketload of moules marinières in a Belgian beer restaurant near the Gare du Nord. And then I met up with Glenn, an American chap I'd met last year when I was in Paris with Johannes from Sydney, for a couple of drinks and a chinwag. It was a very pleasant evening!

On Monday I decided to do a bit of culture, so I went into the Centre Pompidou and soaked up some lovely 19th and 20th century paintings. Plus, from the top floor of that crazy building, I could enjoy the view of Sacré Coeur up on its hill and all the way round through La Défense, the Eiffel Tower and Les Invalides to the Tour Montparnasse. Ah, Paris!

The week I had with my choir, the Markus Chor München, in Paris & Normandy was FANTASTIC! I have to say, it was so much better than I was expecting it to be. We were exceptionally lucky with the weather - not a drop of rain fell on us, in fact quite the opposite: there were a few sun-burned faces by the end of the week.

There were negative aspects: the shitty hotel in Paris, the theft of money out of people's wallets during one concert in Normandy. But even these downers pale into insignificance compared with the wonderful time we all had of it. And the concerts just got better and better! By the end of the week, we were sounding very fine indeed. Lucky inhabitants of Fécamp.

And now I'll revert to my customary chronological rendering of events. Now where were we?

Ah yes, it's Sunday afternoon, and I've just hauled my cheese-laden arse from Champagne to Paris in a train. I was met off my train at Gare de l'Est by Christoph & Martin, my two best tenor friends in the choir. They had just got in on separate trains themselves. Together we made our way out to the CISP Kellermann, a cross between a youth hostel and a gulag out at Place d'Italie in the southeast.

We were in the Kellermann because it was the only reasonably-priced establishment that could accommodate the whole choir - all 50 of us including hangers-on. I think, overall, we would've been better off scattered across several hotels. The only real benefit of being all together was that we could get on our bus to Normandy without delay. But be that as it may, we were all together. And our first group experience was the buffet dinner. Average is too kind a word.

Thankfully, we could quickly put thoughts of mediocre dining behind us, when Martin suggested to a few of us that we go to the Tour Montparnasse to enjoy the nighttime view across Paris. And golly gosh is it a stunning panorama! The Eiffel Tower sparkling, Notre Dame aglow, the Seine a dark finger drawn across the tableau, and all the imperial majesty of the city laid out before you.

We headed back to Place d'Italie for a nightcap and then turned in. I was in a three-bed room with Christoph & Martin. Dismal is too kind a word. The third bed was slung above the other two, and there wasn't a single hook anywhere in the whole room to hang a coat on! The bathing cubicle was a 1960s style bubble of plastic containing toilet, sink & shower all in one. I'm reminded of being in a Zorb in New Zealand; I had about as much room in there too.

The one highlight of the Kellermann was that they had very good croissants at breakfast. But you were only allowed one, dammit!!

On Monday I went with Martin, Anja & her boyfriend Erwin to the Père Lachaise cemetery. We quickly found Jim Morrison but struggled to locate most other graves. The exceptions were Chopin, Edith Piaf and Oscar Wilde, all three of which were very popular with dead-people-visitors. In general, the cemetery was very pleasant: it's huge, for one thing, and quite hilly, so it's a nice place to amble round. At first I was reminded of the cemetery in Buenos Aires where Evita is buried, but Père Lachaise is more restful than that one.

After the cemetery, we had a bite to eat. Anja headed back to the hotel but the three of us went on a bit of a bus adventure round northern Paris, ending up near the Opéra for another coffee. Martin & I left Erwin there and we to our first rehearsal in the church known as Les Billettes in the rue des Archives, just behind the Hôtel de Ville. It's tucked away behind high walls in an area full of bars, so the last thing you're expecting is an oasis of peace, but it is - and it boasts Paris' only original mediaeval cloisters. Plus it's got a reasonable acoustic too.

That evening, Martin & I bought some cheese & wine before heading off to join the rest of the group for a trip on a Bateaux Mouches. The views were lovely! After the boat trip a few of us headed up to the Arc de Triomphe and then back to the hotel.

On Tuesday - yet another gloriously hot day - Martin, Christoph & I found some breakfast together, and then Martin & I went to the Catacombs. There are lots & lots & LOTS of dead people there. Skulls, thigh bones, all tastefully arranged into stacks. A bit mad really.

After a late lunch we went our separate ways. I headed to the Institut du Monde Arabe, where I took in the museum and an obscenely expensive glass of tea on the rooftop terrace. The view of Notre Dame and the whole heart of the city was spectacular though.

Tuesday evening we had our first concert, in Les Billettes. It went reasonably well, so afterwards we traipsed off for a celebratory dinner down near the Seine. Everywhere was chocabloc, but I managed to negotiate a space for ten people in a pleasant brasserie with a nice terrace. I treated myself to some fois gras. Sorry, geese of the world, but your force-fed organs are SO tasty!

On Wednesday morning we left Kellermann in a big bus and headed north. Our first stop was Giverny, to visit Monet's house and his marvellous gardens, complete with water lilies. The weather threatened to turn a bit shite, and we feared the worst for our time in Normandy, but in the end it stayed dry. After Giverny, we stopped in Rouen for lunch. Christoph ordered a salad and it came with a bonus: an enormous huge wriggly caterpillar!!

After some sightseeing around Rouen - beautifully restored to its mediaeval half-timbered splendour after being pulverised by the Allies in the War - we headed off again, this time to our "home" for the rest of the week. Geneviève, a member of our choir, has a summer home in the tiny seaside resort town of Les Petites-Dalles, just up from Fécamp, and fully 28 of us were able to stay as her guests!

The others were in a few hotels in Fécamp. Unlucky for them: because Geneviève and her husband Paul were insanely good hosts. We had delicious hot meals, a sumptuous breakfast spread, wines galore, and - most importantly - we were all able to eat our own bodyweight in CHEESE!!! Yay!! Just when I was getting withdrawal symptoms after Champagne.

On Thursday our coach took us to Etretat, where we walked along the cliffs and enjoyed the stunning views of the pinnacle rocks & the beaches & the hillsides. We ate our picnics (provided by Geneviève, of course) and then the coach took us to Honfleur, just over the Seine from Le Havre. What a pretty little town!

Back at Les Petites-Dalles, we took our places for dinner (I mixed it up and sat on a table without a single other tenor!) and then tucked in to yet another delicious dinner. I don't know how she managed to prepare SO MUCH food - and serve it all up in one go. Thankfully, the kitchen was big enough for whole work teams of volunteers to clear up after the meals. And then it was time for a constitutional stroll down along the beach with Christoph & Martin. Ah, how the sea air revives!

I had a few days in Munich before my next trip, believe it or not, so I managed to squeeze in a few drinks with the Kloster crew on the Monday night, a lunch date on the roof of an Augustiner brewery with Bénédicte and Tobias from the EPO, a dinner date in Augsburg with my friends Matthias & Stefan, an afternoon visit to my nephews for a spot of Wii-ing, elevensies in a cute café in town with my friend Jürgen, and a cheese & wine party at my place with Bénédicte, Christian & Karin.

And then it was time to jump on ANOTHER plane! France, here I come!

From Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris, I had to take a train to Champagne. It's a good job I had plenty of time before the train set off though, because I had a classic piece of Frenchness to experience before I could get on. It goes like this:

I'd pre-booked my train ticket on the SNCF website, where I had been informed that some non-French credit cards don't immediately work in the French ticket dispensing machines. The answer to this problem was, apparently, to type in the booking reference number into the machine, and all would go well. So, on arrival, I queued at the nearest ticket machine, and some 10 minutes later got to the front. I swiped my card, typed in the reference, and was then told that I couldn't proceed! Argh!

So I had to find a human. I headed for the ticket office, where I was greeted by an enormous queue that snaked all the way back out of the office and into the station plaza. Even though there were twelve ticket desks, only TWO of them were actually manned. Argh! Some half an hour later, I finally reached an employee, gave him my card and my reference number, and all was well.

In passing, I mentioned to him that it was a pity the ticket machines don't accept non-French credit cards even though they're supposed to. His response was gold: with a world-weary shrug of the shoulders, he blew out a puff of air, tilted his head in fraternal sympathy and said, "c'est la France"!

But, as I said, luckily I had a couple of hours before the train left. So I even still had time to find a sandwich and a bottle of Orangina before my TGV pulled in. I jumped on, sat down, and watched France whoosh past my window at an extraordinary rate of knots. Sunsets at high speed are somehow even more restful on the eye.

I was met at Champagne-Ardenne station by Sébastien, who I hadn't seen in years & years! The last time I saw his wife Aurélie, he had been stationed in Côte d'Ivoire with the French army. Now he's back, in charge of a unit of dog-handling soldiers that do bomb sniffing and perform other tasks where dogs are advantageous. He drove us to Châlons, where he is now living (and stationed, it being a big garrison town). He & Aurélie and their son Mayeul have a flat slap bang in the middle of town, a stone's throw from the town hall and directly opposite a UNESCO World Heritage church, the Eglise de Notre Dame-en-Vaux. Not bad!

We spent the rest of the weekend eating, drinking and being merry. I ate my own bodyweight in cheese - again! - and tasted many regional specialities, including champagne (duh!) and tarte aux mirabelles. Because it was mirabelle season, and everyone knows that the best mirabelles (small yellow plums) grow in eastern France. In fact, I was so taken with Aurélie's mirabelle tart that I begged her to show me how to make it. Which she did. So I did. And it was good!

It just so happened that my visit coincided with the Foire de Châlons, France's biggest agricultural show. Séb took me there on Saturday, after we had been round town buying cheese and looking at the lovely old buildings of Châlons. At the Foire we tasted Quebecois beers, Austrian ice wine, and Dutch ale, as well as marvelling at the hugeness of modern farm equipment.

There was just time on Sunday to go and have a look in the UNESCO church before I had to catch a train to Paris, to join up with the rest of the members of my Munich church choir - because we were ON TOUR for a week!! More about that in my next instalment...

I don't think I was even properly dry from the huge thunderstorm yet, but already I had to jump into an aeroplane for my next exciting adventure: Denmark!

I flew via Amsterdam Schiphol, which gave me a chance to pick up important Dutch items like stroopwafels and delicious goat's cheese. And then suddenly I was at Billund airport, being met off the plane by Rasmus' parents Josef & Ingrid as well as his kids, Johan & Marie. I really wasn't expecting such an enormous welcoming party! We caught up on years'-worth of gossip and sang songs all the way to Guldenmuld, just outside Skanderborg, which is the name of the commune where Rasmus & Lene live.

Now, when you say "commune" to me, it conjures up images of long-haired hippies, tie-dye clothes, marijuana and lice. But in fact Danish communes are altogether different. It's more like a housing estate without garden fences, with an added community centre. It just so happens that the community centre is the dining room for everyone in the commune: each grown-up has to cook for everyone two evenings a month, which gives you around 28 evenings a month where you don't have to worry about sorting out dinner for you or your kids.

Dinner on my arrival day, however, was cancelled so we could get on with setting the room up for the following day's wedding reception. I put myself at Rasmus & Lene's disposal and spent the rest of the evening on a variety of jobs, including moving furniture, lugging crates of drinks about, and setting up long trestle tables. It was thirsty work, but luckily Rasmus had already plumbed in the beer kegs (complete with compressor and chiller unit), so we could carry out periodic tastings!

Saturday was not the best weather-wise - but hey, we were in Denmark, not on the Côte d'Azur. Thankfully the rain stayed away for most of the time we were still setting up (laying tables, getting marquees up, inflating the bouncy castle, fetching extra cutlery from a neighbouring commune) and for the actual wedding itself, which took place in a delightful little old church up the road. And then, back at Guldenmuld, the fun began! Lots and lots and LOTS to eat & drink, and lots of people I hadn't seen for years to catch up with: Jesper, Bjarne, Erik, Rolf. And lots of new people to talk to too!

Things hotted up in the evening, as the dancing began and the beer & wine flowed freer than ever. I was amused by the Danish tradition of cutting the ends of the groom's socks off after the first dance. It was a group participation event, with all the guys having to hold him up in the air while the girls did the deed on his feet. I just love Danes!

Sunday was altogether a quieter day - especially as we had to get up really early to roll up the bouncy castle and bring it back to the hire place in the next village. About all I could manage was to watch kids' videos with Johan & Marie. It's surprising how much I could understand, although of course it helps that I've seen Lilo & Stitch and Kung Fu Panda before. Great films, both of them!

And then, just as I was getting acclimatised to the damp windy weather, it was time for me to pack my bags. Rasmus, Lene & the kids took me back to Billund airport (which was a very kind thing for a newlywed couple to do, I thought!) and then I flew back through Amsterdam to Munich. I felt pleasantly calm after the excitement of the weekend and the chance to talk with Rasmus about life, the universe & everything.

It hardly seems fair to write such a brief account of my fab week with Justin & Sam & Grace & Maisie on the road in Bavaria, but then again it's not fair to have waited this long to write about it at all! So, hold on to your hats:

Nuremberg - sausages, sun, steep hills, cool old buildings, harrowing coverage of Nazism in the Rally Ground museum, and praise from the guide of our tour of the old city dungeon for my translation skills (she really shouldn't have claimed to be able to do the tour in English, but luckily I was there to save the day).

Bamberg - the archetypal mediaeval city with insanely narrow roads, made all the more insane by it being the first day of the Sandkerwa, Bamberg's biggest festival. I haven't driven straight through thronging crowds of people since Fallas in Valencia back in '94 - and then it was a wide boulevard, whereas this time Justin had to avoid mediaeval house walls as well as drunkards! What a fine hotel we stayed in though - after being directed the wrong way down one-way streets by an irate policeman. And aaaah, the smoky local Schlenkerla beer: it tastes like Murphy's mixed with bacon!

Würzburg - scary bed & breakfast guy, worrying weather (but it got better again), delicious wines, delightful old town, exquisite royal residence, fine castle up on a hill. Pity Sam fell over and did herself a serious mischief on the gravel path.

The villages & towns of the Romantic Road - each one prettier than the last: Bad Mergentheim, Weikersheim, Creglingen, Rothenburg, Dinkelsbühl, Nördlingen, Donauwörth, Schongau, Füssen. I never had any idea that north and west of Munich was so lovely!

Our hotel in Austria - behind the first hill over the border, up from the Lechfall waterfall, and round the corner into Pinswang. Goodness gracious the divine food!! Garlic soup, schnitzels, all super tasty. And an idyllic setting to match the wow factor of Neuschwanstein Castle the next day.

On the way back to Munich we stopped at Tutzing on the Starnberger lake and ate a tremendous Steckerlfisch, which is a huge smoked mackerel.

And then two day trips from Munich. The first was to Tegernsee where we swam at Rottach-Egern and did the boat tour before settling in at the brewery. The second was to the monastery and brewery at Andechs, followed by a swim in the Ammersee lake.

All this travelling in hot hot summer sun, which showed Bavaria at its finest. Except for the monster thunderstorm at Tegernsee, which we had to run through to get back to the railway station. I haven't got that wet in rain for I don't know how long!

So I was actually in Munich for a change! It had been a while, so I felt the need to reconnect with people here. I met up with Michaela, the boys, Rosanne & her son Alex (who were over from the UK) for fab Chinese food in Pasing on Monday lunchtime. I met with Christian & the Kloster crew for fab German food on Monday evening. I met with Rudi for fab Italian food just round the corner from me on Tuesday evening. I met with Bénédicte for fab French food in Schwabing on Wednesday evening. I met Judith for coffee in town on Thursday.

And then it was the weekend, and suddenly it was Visitor Season! Ali flew in from Düsseldorf for a night to make the most of the Munich summer - yes, it had finally turned hot. We walked all through town, along the Isar, and out to the Flaucher beergarden, before heading back into town to visit the Hans-Sachs-Straße festival, where I ran into (among others) Rudi & Jürgen, Holger, Jens & Doris, Marko, and Petar & Fadil. Then Ali & I rushed out to Bogenhausen to meet Christian for sushi at Sushi Cent. Oh how I love that place!!

On Sunday morning it was still hot & sunny, so Ali & I went for a walk around my neighbourhood in search of a nice café. Bizarrely, they were all shut. But then we spotted a Peruvian tapas bar literally round my corner and stopped for fruit juice. It was most strange to be lying on sun loungers in the street, with fake plastic palm trees for shade!

Our juice break didn't last long, though, because Justin & Sam & their girls Grace & Maisie soon arrived in their hire car from Munich airport. We met them, brought their bags up to mine, and headed straight out to the Nockherberg beergarden for some traditional Bavarian afternoon sun. Christian joined us, then Ali had to leave to catch her flight back to Düsseldorf. I saw her onto the tram, then headed back to the others.

Later we all headed back to mine for Federweißer - this year's not-quite-ready white wine that is basically fermenting grape juice; the longer you keep it in your fridge, the more alcoholic it gets - and then had a bite to eat at an Italian round the corner to soak up the headache juice we'd just consumed at mine.

Monday saw Justin, Sam, the girls & I head into Munich for a spot of sightseeing, shopping & lunch (at the Augustiner place in the pedestrian zone). Later in the afternoon we headed to the Kloster and had dinner with our usual Kloster crew. Tuesday was similarly relaxed, with breakfast at mine followed by a trip into town, followed by a swim at Schyrenbad down by the river, followed by dinner at Wassermann. That evening Christian jump-started the hire car (bloody battery was dead!), which calmed Justin's nerves somewhat.

And then on Wednesday began a crazy week of trans-Bavarian road tripping! Justin & Sam kindly invited me along for the ride, since I had time on my hands (unemployment has benefits). We headed all over the place to loads of places that I hadn't been to before or hadn't been to for years. And I'll write about it all very soon...

Did I mention that I totally got checked out by a Hollywood star while I was sitting having an icecream in New York? No, really!! The only other explanation is that he thought he knew me; he stared right at me for much more time than is necessary to decide whether or not someone's going to hassle you for an autograph (which I SO wouldn't, by the way). I feel compelled not to mention his name, for fear of some crazy US-style libel action, but suffice to say that despite his "long-term girlfriend and child" alibi, the eyes of this particular actor, famous from Six Feet Under, were all OVER me that sunny afternoon in the West Village.

So yes, I was in New York, and I'd met up with Charlotte & Sarah, who were over from Dusseldorf for a spot of shopping, for a bite to eat at a French brasserie in the meatpacking district. And then we fancied dessert sitting at a pavement café, which obligingly presented itself soon after we started walking into the West Village. And there was Said Actor, sitting at the next table! He wandered off after a bit, but then five minutes later came back the way and totally checked me out! I was abashed and looked away, then thought "sod it" and looked back again, and he was STILL checking me out!!

After lunch the girls & I had a bit of a walk around through Washington Square Park before stopping for a coffee. Then it was time for them to head to the airport. I carried on walking, then headed out to Brooklyn and walked back to Manhattan over the Brooklyn Bridge - which apparently is only sitting on one of its feet, the other having been built in a swamp where they never actually found a bottom! Then I walked across to the Hudson River side and walked slowly up towards Christopher Street Pier, enjoying the setting sun.

Rich & Paul met me in a bar on Christopher Street for a drink, and then we went along to a great little Italian place nearby and ate some delicious pasta. Then we headed across to Jersey and enjoyed the view of nighttime Manhattan from Hoboken. Wow! All the skyscrapers lit up and just sitting there being gorgeous!

On Tuesday I got the bus in from Teaneck across the George Washington Bridge and then took the Subway to the Upper West Side, where I found myself a yummy falafel restaurant for lunch. Then I walked into Central Park, passing through Strawberry Fields, the garden named in memory of John Lennon, who was shot just outside the park there. I did a spot of sunbathing on a big rock in a hilly little glade in the middle of the park. Ah, what luxury! It was too easy to forgeet that I was lying slap-bang in the middle of a sprawling urban metropolis.

My next stop was the American Museum of Natural History, which was full of exhibits but also full of people. The new annex built just next door is fab though, with two building-sized displays: one is designed to literally walk you through the history of the universe since the Big Bang, with the last 15cm or so corresponding to the time man has been on earth; the other uses the huge spherical cinema at the centre of the annex as a point of reference for a journey through scale, i.e. if the huge sphere is the universe then this pebble is our galaxy, or if the huge sphere is a molecule of hydrogen then this marble is an electron. Both exhibits were very cool!

I took the Subway and the bus back out to Dan's place in Queen's that night. Dan was a bit knackered from his hectic doctoring work at the hospital, so we just had a bite to eat in a delicious South Indian restaurant round the corner and then watched a DVD. Well, I did; Dan went to bed half way through! It was possibly the direst superhero movie I've ever endured: Watchmen. Oh My God. Every now and then there's a good bit, but mostly it's just clichés and dialogue off the back of a cereal packet. And it's SO LONG!!! Never again.

On Wednesday I met up with Bezi from Munich and her cousin. It's crazy: you fly a quarter of the way round the world, then keep meeting up with people from home! I love it though, because it makes me feel all that much more jetsetty. Anyway, we met at the Museum of Modern Art and spent the whole lunchtime & afternoon there. There's just SO MUCH cool stuff to see there!! Around each corner is a world-famous picture, and around each other corner is some cool thing you've never seen before. I totally love that museum.

We cooled our arted-out heads with a cocktail at their fabulously exclusive hotel just off Central Park and then I got a bus back to Jersey. Rich kindly picked me up from the bus terminal and took me home, where we had dinner with Paul and Rich's friend Dean who was in town on business. Once again, the jacuzzi was a life-saver for my achy feet. Tourism is so much more civilised when one is staying with Rich!

And then, suddenly, my last day was upon me. Rich took me to a proper Jersey Italian pizza place, and I learned that Jersey is a huge mozzarella (or muzzarella, as they call it locally) production centre as well as being a garden state with orchards galore and more fresh produce than you can shake a muddy stick at.

After lunch, I finally succumbed to the lure of shopping in cheap-dollar-land. It all started because Maggi asked me to bring her some sweets that you can only get in America. But once the floodgates were opened I shopped like it was going out of fashion. That naughty Rich kept asking me what I need, and I kept answering "well I really don't need anything, I mean, the only thing I could buy would be..." and that sentence ended variously with "jeans" or "winter boots" or "maybe a shirt" or "some snacks" or "agave syrup". Good job I brought two bags to check in!

The flight back to Munich was uneventful. I arrived on Friday morning and just had time to unpack, wash, and repack, before flying on to Hannover to visit Maggi & Jens for the weekend. Our first stop was an Australian pub, where we drank cider and ate barramundi with friends of theirs.

On Saturday we drove to the Marienburg, a nearby castle. The woman doing the guided tour was quite possibly the most boring person alive - if indeed she is alive. She had the craziest monotone, only it wasn't a monotone because now and then she would inject a burst of enthusiasm - but for the wrong things! One example among many, many, many: "and HERE we are standing in front of some WOODen DOORS" - no, she didn't say anything ABOUT the wooden doors, she just stated that that's what they were.

It was super duper hot that afternoon, so we just sat in their garden and ate Greek snacks. Later in the evening Maggi drove me into town in her Mini (Jens was feeling really ill and went to bed), so we could go to the Maschseefest. It's a beer & sausages festival on the lake shore of the Maschsee, the lake right in the middle of town that WWII bomber pilots used basically as a big arrow pointing at the Old Town.

We met up with my mate Holger, who happened to be up from Munich this weekend too, visiting his parents, and he taught me how to drink Lütje Lage, which is a special local beer that you have to hold between finger and thumb whilst simultaneously balancing a glass of schnapps on the top edge of the glass with another finger, and then drink both together without pouring it all down your front or up your nose. I took to it like an alcoholic fish to vodka - all the locals were impressed at how dry my teeshirt remained!

Maggi & I finished the night with a cocktail in a rooftop beach bar. What a way to improve a city-centre multi-storey car park!

On Sunday the three of us took Bubble, their uncommonly huge American bulldog, for a walk in the forest. It was again a lovely day, and the destination of the walk was an observation tower. Sadly the view from the top was very hazy, but Jens & I had a good view of Maggi waiting down below with Bubble. And then, after a very very relaxing weekend which had consisted mostly of eating, drinking, and dozing in the sun, they took me back to the airport and I flew back to Munich.

Time to write a few more words, I think. Basically because I'll be off again for another week as of tomorrow afternoon, this time to France with my choir for a couple of concerts in churches in Paris and Normandy. Should be great! But more about that probably in about three months' time, when I finally get around to writing about September...

Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, just back from a scorcher in Rome. Well, I had about 18 hours to do a load of washing etc. and get my bags packed for my next trip, this time to New York. (It's sickening I know, but I really am jealous of MYSELF sometimes, with all that jetsetting!) Rich & Paul kindly agreed to put me up again in their house in New Jersey, like last year in May.

But the trip was altogether different this time. I had more time to play with - nine days instead of six - and more people to catch up with too: Dan has now moved to Queens to work as a doctor in a hospital there; Charlotte & Sarah were over from Dusseldorf for a long weekend of shopping; and Bezi was over for a few days with her cousin who had just been in Canada.

Ah! New York! It's just too good, it really is. City, nightlife, people, sights, country, rivers, seaside, islands, drinks, views, food, culture, international flair: it's the city that's got it all. Plus, Rich had a few days off work to spend with me, which was really great because I always love to visit a place with a local rather than have to rely on a guide book. So I got to see a broad spectrum of what NYC has to offer.

My first evening was a quiet one at home with Rich & Paul, reacquainting myself with their decadent hot tub in the back garden as well as with Rich's culinary prowess. The next day, after slightly iffy jetlaggy sleep, we went into Manhattan for lunch and a wander round. Initially we thought we might pick up tickets for a Broadway show, but just as we joined the monster queue for last-minute seats the mother of all downpours came!

I haven't seen rain like it in I don't know how long. It was tropical and crazy. (Rich reminded me how far south NY actually is, which explains how it is that they get their weather from the Caribbean.) It was raining so hard, the parts that were sheltered by our umbrellas were soaked through by the drops bouncing off the floor. We held fast for a minute but then decided to screw the tickets and head for some shelter, whereupon I came face to face - or rather, face to hat - with a recent New York phenomenon, the Naked Cowboy. YouTube him, it's mad!

No, he's not naked - at least, not in a European sense: he wears a white ten-gallon-hat, white knickers, white cowboy boots and a white guitar. But for an American he's pretty naked! And now he's standing for mayor of New York City. He was strumming gently whilst standing next to a table with flyers and info about his campaign. Which was handily under cover, hence our proximity until the worst of the rain had past.

From Times Square we jumped in the Subway and headed to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where we had a quick mad dash round for an hour before they closed. It's great! A bit like the British Museum, with bits of everything, including a whole Egyptian temple complex, whole frescoed Roman villa rooms, picture galleries, statues, and a fabulous exhibition of art from the National Museum of Iraq that had been buried to protect it from the atrocities of recent times.

After chucking-out time at the museum we had a lovely walk through some of Central Park back into Downtown, then headed back across the Hudson River to New Jersey for dinner at a sushi place near Rich & Paul's. After all that walking and weather-beating, I was most ready for a bedtime hot tub visit!

The next day Rich was kind enough to drive me out of the city and a little way upstate. We headed for the town of Beacon, and more precisely to a converted biscuit factory that now houses the Dia: museum of modern art. It's a huge huge huge space devoted to 20th-century works that by their nature are difficult to display in normal galleries. For instance, the enormous iron sculptures of Richard Serra have their own wing here, as do a giant series of Dan Flavin flourescent tube installations. There's also stacks of Warhol, Beuys, and other important artists.

I have a little confession to make at this point: I found a large proportion of the art on display to be utter shite. But I delighted in the whole shiteness of it all!! As I strolled from gallery to gallery, I marvelled at how well-off human society has become that it can devote time, money & energy to such pointless exercises in artistic masturbation. It really does make me ever so happy in my heart to think that mabye one day war will be forgotten and differing opinions on abstract bits of plastic/wire/cardboard will constitute mankind's major source of confrontation.

So you can imagine my elation when, from time to time, I found a piece I actually found arresting as well as self-important! There were works by Louise Bourgeois, John Chamberlain and Sol LeWitt that I really quite liked. And the extension that's been built on the waterfront of the Hudson River was also most pleasant, especially when we got to watch a guy taking his windsurfboard out onto the water, and to see him gradually get smaller and smaller as he headed out into the middle of the river.

Back in New Jersey, we met up with Paul outside his office and then headed for dinner at a Colombian restaurant. The food was tasty but most importantly HUGE! I had a grilled whole red snapper with avocado and fried banana that would have fed a family of four in the UK. The piles of food on the tables of those around us (who were almost without exception Latinos; we were the only white guys in the place) were eye-wateringly generous too.

Amusingly, the waitress couldn't understand a word I said because of my accent. When she asked what I wanted to drink and I said "a glass of water" her faced clouded over and then she turned to Rich & Paul asking "what does he want?". To which they replied "a glayass of waaaaahaterrrrrr". To which she said "oh okay". Two nations divided by a common language.

On Friday Rich & I drove out to Fire Island, that wonderful retreat from the hubbub of the city. Although this time, in contrast to last year, there was plenty of hubbub on the island too! Well, it was midsummer after all, and the weather was supposed to be hot & sunny again after the lashings of rain that had fallen across New York in recent weeks. We had a very relaxing time, walking on the beach, having drinks with friends of Rich, and bodysurfing on the big waves that were rolling in from the Atlantic.

Paul joined us on Saturday afternoon and that evening we had a big barbecue party on the verandah of some friends of theirs, where I got to chat with a Dutch lady and not be the only European on the block. Then on Sunday Rich & Paul dropped me off in Queens at Dan's house, where I had a great reunion with him before setting off with him & his girlfriend to a kosher Turkish restaurant. An Israeli waiter there had some very unsavoury views about Muslims which I expect he only shared with me because he thought I was Jewish.

Right, I'm going to leave it there for now. We can't have you getting eye fatigue from reading an overlong blog now, can we!

Cor blimey, I'm getting very behind on my quirky but sometimes hopefully amusing narration of the publishable bits of my life! Where were me? Ah yes, Rome:

Well, Rome is a fab place - but I needn't write that here! It was hot hot hot all the while we were there, which made a blessed change from the dreary summer in Munich. Our first foray into the city (after breakfast in our deliciously central hotel) was past the Castell Sant'Angelo and over the Tiber into the windy narrow roads of the heart of the city.

From there we wound slowly hither and thither through Piazza Navona, past innumerable churches, soaking up the atmosphere (and the sun). We stopped for a quick coffee before entering the Pantheon - ah! what a building! And I love the fact that today's technology is not in a position even to explain, let alone replicate, this temple's peerless concrete monster of a roof. Hats off to the Romans of yore!

There was lots more sightseeing (past the Trevi Fountain, to the Spanish Steps, over the Piazza del Popolo) and some dangling of our weary feet in refreshing fountains before we had our first gelato of the weekend. Oh My God!! I wasn't sure how good an idea it was to have ruby grapefruit ice cream, but I ordered it anyway and it was DIVINE!!!

For dinner we headed out to Trastevere to find a nice little place, and ended up in an okay little place with unexceptional food. We made up for this slight downer by having coffees and Duff Beer (of Simpsons fame - what an inspired piece of marketing) and watching people go by. Then it was a quick walk up and down the Tiber to get nighttime photos of St Peter's and finally a bus back to our hotel.

Day Two was much the same as Day One really, only with different churches and the huge added bonus of meeting up with Chris & Kate (they left the girls with Michaela at the beach). Together we wandered past the Colosseum, along the Forum and up the Vittorio Emanuele monument before diving into the old town again for a second Pantheon stop and other delights.

We parted ways in the late afternoon and Christian & I had dinner in Trastevere a second time, this time in a delicious restaurant with pleasant conversation with an American lady at the next table who was reasonably high up in Barack Obama's election campaign in Florida. She bemoaned the numbskulledness of her compatriots at another nearby table (a gaggle of girls, one of whom it seemed had mastered the dark art of simultaneously eating pizza and talking shite).

Day Three (Sunday) we reserved for the beach, taking the local train out as far as it went and then jumping on a bus to cover the stretch down the coast to Torvaianica, where Michaela, Chris and the others were all staying. We met up with them at their hotel and then went to Michaela's friend Tony's house for lunch (it was Tony's birthday party the night before that had led Michaela to choose to come to Rome this week in the first place).

That afternoon we messed around in the sea with Chris and the kids, playing piggy in the middle with the frisbee that Chris had brought along. It was scorching hot, and the water was the perfect temperature. Sadly though, it was not very pleasant-tasting; I'm not sure I'd rush back to that beach for water quality...

The journey back into town took an age, because it seemed half of Rome was on the same narrow road and what had taken us half an hour in the morning now took more like two hours. This was doubly annoying as I had arranged to catch up with my mate Nikos and his girlfriend for dinner in town. They ended up eating alone but we had a drink with them instead and it was lovely to see a new part of Rome (near the pyramid) with a couple of "locals" as guides.

Our last day was dedicated to the Vatican Museum. I had handily pre-booked tickets, so we didn't have to join the monster queue that was already stretching around two corners when we got there at nine o'clock. What a marvellous museum!! As if Rome wasn't chocabloc with art and history already, here was a distillation of over two thousand years of human creativity, with countless world-famous objets.

Primus inter pares (if you'll pardon the slip into Latin - well, it IS the Vatican after all!) is of course the Sistine Chapel, but I was particularly taken with the Etruscan art gallery - not least because it was a little off the beaten track and hence refreshingly uncrowded. Also unforgettable were some of the sculptures (the Laocoön springs immediately to mind).

And, in a deft piece of museum design, we were able to avoid total art fatigue by virtue of there being a café right before you get to the Sistine Chapel! I think the majesty of that space would have been wasted on me, had I not had a cheeky espresso macchiato and a cornetto (that's a croissant to you and me - and there was me thinking it was just a kind of ice cream!) just beforehand.

After about four hours of solid museum-going, it was time to bid Rome farewell. We headed back to the main station and thence to the airport, where one last treat awaited us: pizza! It seems hard to believe, but we hadn't actually had any pizza yet all the time we were in Rome. Okay, so it was a fast-food joint, nestled between a café and a Burger King. But this was ITALIAN fast food, and the pizza was so much better than most (but not all) of the offerings this side of the Alps.

So, all in all, another TOP weekend!