It seems I have been posting some of the posts from our present travel blog to here. If you're interested at all to see the pics and read aal of the entries from the travels, (though I mut admit to wondering why), you can crusie over to http://msvandmrp2011.posterous.com/ to check it out. :)

In keeping with the ambience, (and cost), of the Bremmer, breakfast was quite special with for the first time in Germany real bacon plus the usual rolls, (we'll miss them) etc all in a quite stately dining room. Finally it was time to pack and head back to Lahnstein to return the bikes. As luck would have it we were not sure which of the two routes out of town we should take when two locals happened upon us. The one on a bike suggested one road whilst the other pedestrian thought the second was best. Bemused but without understanding we listened to their discussion before they both agreed that the cyclist could guide us across the river and then direct us on our way which he duly did.

Once again though the weather intervened as we got within 2km of Lothar's place and we had to seek shelter from a pretty strident shower. This soon passed and we rode into Lothar's backyard. Finding Lothar upstairs cleaning out his lodgings we completed the transfer back of the bikes and the repacking of our cases before bidding him farewell and heading for the station. No sooner had we hopped on the train for the two station trip back to Koblenz than the ticket inspector came by. Fortunately this time we had had time to purchase a ticket and we were fine.

When we had booked out from the Hotel Bremmer we had enquired about the trains to our next destination, Cologne-Bonn airport. We were told there was a direct train from Koblenz which we duly decided to take. As a result, and given Ms V was enduring some sniffles and was generally a bit on the fluey side we decided to hang around the station for the hour or so to the train. Heading up to the platform however there were two trains at the station and no attendants to help us decipher the train board. With a minute to spare we finally hopped on board the one which looked like it was going in our direction and which most of the folk with cases were heading for.

An elderly gent sitting across from Ms V indicated it was not a good idea for Mr P to put the big bag in the luggage rack but wasn't able to help us with where the train was heading to. Mr P however caught the eye of a younger chap across from him and asked if we were going past Cologne airport. Quickly consulting his phone he was able to show us yes we were on the correct train. As we approached the airport the elderly chap indicated that this was our stop for which we thanked him, at which he broke into a broad smile.

The airport itself is very new though also rather soul-less being all glass steel and concrete. Though a large terminal it doesn't service the major carriers instead being the home of a seemingly endless number of low-cost and regional airlines. Because of this the eating facilities were relatively sparse, we ended up opting for the Hungry Jacks equivalent Burger King for our evening meal.

Finally it was checkin time and we joined the queue at the two desks. As we were flying Easyjet we knew that they were very particular about luggage and had packed accordingly. Unfortunately one member of a group of students in line ahead of us had two pieces of carry-on luggage. The fussing about how to accommodate his bag in another members luggage was taking forever until the checkin man waved us all forward. Heading through Customs we realized that we were not going to be able to take the bottle of wine we had in the carry-on luggage on to the airplane and so it transpired. The quite apologetic security attendant said we still had time to go back through screening to drink the bottle or failing that we would have to drop it in the bin. The bin was the reluctant option taken.

Heading through migration one of the officers was perplexed that we didn't have a German entry stamp when his colleague reminded him that entering via train from other EU countries don't require passport endorsements. Waiting in the lounge we noted that most of others on the flight chose to stand rather than sit in the seats. Some 40 minutes before the flight, (and even before our plane had landed), the passengers who were standing began to queue followed not long afterwards by the announcement of our boarding beginning. Easyjet as with some other low cost airlines don't allocate seats so getting seats is a first come first served basis. As luck would have it our flight was not full though once we did get on board, the flight attendants did encourage passengers towards the back of the plane.

The flight itself was relatively uneventful and we soon landed in Edinburgh. For once being a non-European passport holder was an advantage as we found ourselves in a queue of three passing through immigration control in a matter of minutes. Having collected our luggage we entered the arrival lounge to be greeted by Michelle who drove us back to her great little unit in Dundee and bed.

After a very hearty breakfast, including for the first time the option of cooked eggs, we packed and set off in some rather foggy conditions. Quite a contrast to the heat of the day before, the fog soon began to drift away to reveal the vineyards across the river and the barges already making their way too. Not far along the path we came across a reminder of Roman times in the form of an old road marker. Further along again we came to one of many shrines, though this has been the most prominent so far. Built into the cliff-face in a little grotto was a statue of the virgin Mary and underneath was a small shelf on which were candle stubs and some fruit. Nearby was an apple tree on which were lots of large semi ripe fruit, all just out of human reach. Scattered on the ground underneath were the ones that had dropped off. Amongst the broken or rotting ones we found one whole apple which went into our saddle bags for later.

We soon happened on another of the constants of our trip so far, the little tractors that all of the farmers use. This time it was towing one of the grape harvesting trailers laden with grapes freshly picked ready to take back to the winery. As we learnt later thought the valley is full of large wineries, there are also large numbers of family owned ones as well. In these cases the wine is made in what would otherwise pass as garages or sheds adjacent to the houses. We also saw the first of the picking crews clambering up and down the slopes on which the vines were planted.

Next we came upon the first of the Mosel locks we were to see. In this case two barges were jammed in quite tightly as the water poured in to raise them the 10 or so metres to the next river level. Along the path too are dotted reminders of how the wine industry has dominated the region down the centuries such as a couple of wooden grape presses.

By now the sun was well and truly over the ridges and the day had begun to heat up again. Rounding the ridge at Trittenhiem we came across one of the loops in the Mosell where it turns back on itself. A little further on we came upon one of a number of sundials that are installed along the cliff faces. Next it was on to the little village of Neumagen-Dhron, "Germany's oldest wine town". The village has been a veritable paradise for archeologists revealing a wine history going back to Roman times. A reproduction of a relief sculpture showing a Roman wine boat is exhibited in the main street across the road from the cafe where we enjoyed a lunch and some respite from the sun.

Mercifully the next part of the ride was in dappled shade as we rode through the village of Piesport and past a reproduction of a Roman era winepress. The whole complex was very extensive and though the explanations were all in German, the pictures were sufficient for us to work out roughly the process used and the ingenuity required to set up the press. Once again we crossed the river, looking back at another stunning vista which was hard to do justice even with panorama apps on the phone.

As we rode on the weather got even hotter so we were more than happy when we came upon a long downhill stretch when we shaded completely by the surrounding hills. The temperature drop was amazing and there were actually a couple of spots where the roadway was wet and we passed other riders donning jackets and the like. Soon though we were back in the sun and riding on into Bernkastel-Kues a twin town separated by the river but now joined by a bridge.

As we rode in Bernkastel we could tell by the buses and river traffic that this was no ordinary village even though it was around 4:00pm. Dismounting because of the crowds we made our way up through the throngs to look for somewhere to stay for the evening. As Mr P was not enjoying dodging the pedestrian traffic Ms V grabbed the first hotel we could find. As it turned out, despite the sloping floor in our room this was a great choice and we were soon showered and out on the street too wandering amongst all of the stunning architecture, grabbing an ice-cream and generally soaking up the atmosphere.

Soon it was time to eat proper so we began checking the menus displayed outside the eateries around. As usual our very limited German was letting us down in deciding what was going to be interesting so Ms V was very happy when she found a restaurant with English translations. She was less happy though when she enquired as to the availability of a table to be told there were none even though there clearly were. Wandering on we came to a small establishment that displayed on the wall the Michelin Emblem. Thinking it just too hard we meandered further down into town but without any luck in regard to working our menu offerings.

Soon we were back outside our original choice where a couple sitting outside beckoned us over. They said in perfect english that they were soon leaving and we could take their table if we liked. We then had a great conversation for five or so minutes before they paid their bill and left us. A few minutes later the waitress came back and we asked if we could order to which she replied that the kitchen was closed and we would not be served. Slightly bemused we left again and headed back up the hill to the Michelin Restaurant where we enjoyed a very hearty meal the star of which was the dessert platter and the young waiter who enjoyed our attempts at using our German dictionary app to praise his work.

As we were finishing up we heard the sounds of a German Band striking up just down the street. Paying our bill we wandered down to where a wine tent had been set up for which the band was entertainment. Mr P navigated his way through the crowd to grab a couple of glasses of the local product which incidentally is very good and very cheaply priced. 4-5 Euro will get a very good wine though you must like Reisling from dry to very sweet. Having enjoyed the last couple of numbers from the band we made our way the short distance to our hotel and bed.

Today we decided to give the hotel breakfast a miss, instead heading to the Paterisserie at the end of our street. With a ham and cheese baguette and ham and cheese toastie in hand we headed over to Republique Square to eat our food. It was interesting to see that the camping tents that had been set up the day before had been taken down, though the homeless folk who had most likely used them were seated on some other of the seats around the square.

Having enjoyed our treats we made our way back into the Metro to go across town again to visit the Jardin de Reuilly rooftop gardens. Upon coming back out of the Metro we found ourselves, not for the first time, slightly confused about where we were. Having consulted a number of maps we headed off in one direction only to find five minutes later were were heading in the diametrically opposite direction. Retracing our steps and heading in the correct direction we found ourselves in the midst of a market strip. With a range of stalls not dissimilar to the Queen Vic Market it filled both sides of a street. The range of fruit was pretty impressive and we grabbed a punnet of strawberries to enjoy later in the day.

The major difference were the meat and fish stalls with the range of fish options identified not only by type but also by region. While the oysters were large, the mussels in particular were very small, nothing like the ones from home or indeed even the ones on sale in Holland. The meat stalls had all manner of different cuts including pig's trotters and other pieces which would be regarded as offal in Australia. The stalls also had a range of large cooking apparatus with warmed cooked meats also on offer.

Once we reached the end of the street we grabbed the first of our water bottle top-ups from the tap at the back of another of the public toilets dotted around the city. Just across the road from the garden entrance Mr P noticed a small car with an extension lead protruding from where the petrol cap might have been. The lead led to a streetside power box which indicated it was a top-up station for electric cars.

Walking through the gate leading to the garden we then mounted steps up to the beginning of the garden strip. Immediately we were struck by how quickly the sounds of the street disappeared. Walking further along the garden strip, the path periodically passed through between buildings, seemingly carving chunks out of the middle of the buildings. The layout and plantings within the garden also constantly changed providing yet another oasis within an otherwise busy city. Along with so many others, we stopped for a drink before making our way to the end of the garden.

Next it was on to the canal for our boat ride. Whilst waiting we enjoyed a baguette and terrine lunch on the canal bank in the shade again using the Dirk bags to keep us dry. Finally it was time to hop on the boat and head off upstream. Almost immediately we entered a long tunnel that went under the Bastille square and the Juillet Column. At regular intervals were vents that also allowed light to enter the tunnel. In addition along the walls were lights that threw rainbow like patterns on the tunnel walls. This we were told was an installation created by a Japanese artist.

Out of the tunnel we then cruised leisurely through a series of locks and past a couple of swing bridges as we heard the story of the canals and some of the buildings along its length down the ages. For some time the canals were vital as both a means of trade and transport as well as water supply. In more recent times the waterway was less useful and was in danger of being completely covered over. Local residents protested this fate however and now the canal is now marketed to users of pleasure craft. The water contained in most of the basins are now used as a major grey water supply for toilets and gardens.

Some two lazy hours later we docked alongside an arts and science centre built on what was once an industrial complex. Once again using the Metro we headed back to Republique and another supermarket salad. Before heading to the shop though we dropped in at the little church just up the street from our hotel. A quick Skype call to Cafe Oz confirmed that the Grand Final was to be broadcast live on big screens though they weren't taking bookings. This meant that we would have to rise at 5:30am to get to the bar by the 6:15 opening time. An early night ensued.

Back again for our breakfast croissant, compote and baguette, albeit a little bit later today, one of us was dismayed to find the bread portion halved and without the white option of the day before. Again necessity triumphed and we ate our portions before heading off to perform another necessary task. As Ms V was having trouble with footwear in the hot conditions a bandaid or two was needed. Fortunately a pharmacy is on just about every street and with the illuminated green cross sign that flashes all manner of messages including temperature, date and time, are not hard to find

Another of the Miche recommendations of her time in Paris was a neat little perfumery which was just near the Paris Opera house. Having located first the Opera we then quickly found the perfume house only to find it besieged by two tour groups. Holding back a bit we managed to see the sights and smell the smells before a very obliging sales assistant gave us a great crash course in perfume making. A couple of purchases later we made our way out to yet another 27C day.

Given the heat, quiet contemplative places were the order of the day so we headed back to the Seine and Notre Dame. Along the way we went to check out the location of an Aussie theme pub which was supposed to be showing the AFL grand final in a couple of days. Having entered Rue St Denis at the very opposite end to the one we needed to we walked its whole length only to find the pub didn't open for another four hours. At least we knew where it was and had confirmed they were going to show the game.

Though we had both been to Notre Dame in the past we were more than pleased to be able to escape the heat and spend time inside marveling at the stained glass and other religious paraphernalia including an example of the large candelabra that used to be used to light the church. Leaving the larger of the two River Seine islands we crossed over to the smaller to the strains of a violin player. A chance to make a panoramic movie set to music was one not be missed and a suitable contribution was made to his upturned case afterwards. As suggested by Lonely Planet, we indulged ourselves in a double scoop of iced delights from Bethuillion? before enjoying the quiet no rush street filled with art, book and other esoteric shops before stopping by at our second church of the day. Visiting the Chapel of St Louis was made on the suggestion of our friend Christine and what a nice contrast it made to the crowded pomp and grandeur of Notre Dame.

Crossing back to the 'mainland' again we headed to one of the city's canals to make a booking for a canal tour that Ms V had read about and wanted to do. Arriving at the tour booking office we were amazed to see a large number of Jewish folks complete with skullcaps etc assembled near the canal edge. Having made our booking enquiries we walked the steps up to the Bastille Square as even more Jewish folk streamed down onto the canal edge. We never did find out what the occasion was however the people, men, women and children, were certainly dressed for something special.

Bastille Square was just like any of the busy Paris intersections except that in the centre it had a pillar topped with a gold statue. The Juillet Column was erected in 1830 and contains the names of martyrs of the revolution. Having grabbed a pic and filled our water bottle for the third time for the day, we caught the Metro again to Republique and a stop at the local small supermarket for some takeaway salad and beer for dinner.

How many times have you stayed in a hotel or the like and looked at the bed and pondered on the strip of often dark coloured cloth draped across the toe end of the bed. I find it something of an annoyance, usually pulling it out of the way as I prefer to be able to move around in the bed. Tonight though I think I inadvertently revealed to myself the reason for the strip, (it's probably got a name too). Reclining on the bed to watch a little television I found my shoes which I had lazily not removed, resting right in the middle of the strip. Hmm now I know.

On our walks along the beach we regularly find fish and fish parts washed up. Sometimes the fish parts are the remnants of fish caught by fishermen. Others like this leatherjacket have met with a less definitive demise

I've just recently downloaded a new app, Doodlecam which enables you to add effects to both still images and movies as you capture them. Today I had a chance to give it a try in the image capture mode at least as I journeyed home on the train. I decided to add a bit extra with StripDesigner to add some extra texture, what do you think?

Though it's said that at any time throughout the year, somewhere on the Australian continent you can find one variety of our floral emblem, the wattle in bloom, it's only at this time of the year that our part of the country begins to experience anew the glory of the green and gold.

Checking through the local paper yesterday Vicki noticed an article about tours through the nearby Pt Lonsdale lighthouse. Having visited lighthouse interstate we thought it only appropriate to checkout our local as it were. Looking up at the climb ahead was not as pleasing as looking back over the 121 steps taken to reach the top.