The view from the 27th floor

The old Opera House

So the last blog ended with us travelling along the Rhine Valley towards Frankfurt.  We met Tom Wolstencroft, the fourth member of the team, at the station and then immediately made our way towards our German connection.  Claudia is a friend of my mum´s and she works at the Deutschebank HQ in Frankfurt.  As a result, we met her there, after going through a security section that seemed very curious as to why four teenagers with rucksacks were entering one of the most important financial buildings in all of Germany.  I assumed that we would then head off into town, but Claudia invited us to her office on the 27th floor (out of 30) for a lunch there.  It turned out that this floor was where the seven members of the board had their offices, and ALL of them were out on business.  As a result, much to our surprise, we ended up having our lunch at the personal table of one of these seven board members with his view of central Frankfurt.  This was without a doubt the most classy lunch I have ever had.  To top this, members of the bank were actually waiting on us - one turned up with coffee for us on a silver tray.  The contrast between this and cold mushroom sandwiches could not be anymore vast.

Claudia had to work, so after dumping our bags in her car, we got the U-bahn into the centre and had a wander around the shops.  After the relative depravity of camping, I felt I needed to buy a shirt, so we spent an hour or so looking for this, before having a milkshake and heading back towards the town of Oberursel where Claudia lives.  We bought a pizza in for dinner and then headed out into town to a local brewery where there were only two beers, both of which are brewed on site.  I am not a beer connissieur, but the others said it was very good.  Apparently.  That night we stayed on camp/sofa beds - Claudia was worried because she couldn´t find the corks for the airbeds, but the fact that we actually had a roof over our heads was luxurz enough.

The next morning Claudia had left when we got up, so we stayed in bed until late for the first time on the trip.  After a relaxed breakfast and doing some washing we headed off into Frankfurt on the U-bahn/S-bahn.  We went to the Deutschebank canteen with Claudia, this time with guest passes, for another epic lunch.  The canteen had all sorts - curries, local food, fish, rice, soups, salads and all other bits and pieces. For the rest of the day we got our own personal tour of the city.  I have to admit that aside from the Manhattan-esque skyline (the city has the nickname Bankfurt), I didn´t know what was there.  However there were a fair few interesting buildings (the treaty creating country of Germany was signed at the church in the centre of Frankfurt for example).  Being with a local made a real difference - we got to see all the restaurants and bars that we would normally have overlooked.  After spending the day moving around various shops, bars and walking beside the river Main, we headed into ´Sachsenhausen´, which is the trendy old town for a local meal. Some of the local specialities that we tried out included Apple Wine - like strong tasting cider without the fizz, and a VERY mature cheese.

After the meal it was clear that the weather had changed and for the first time on the trip we had wonderfully clear skies.  As a result it made sense to head down to the river to take pictures of the skyline as it got dark.  Apparently every Tuesday night all the local roller skaters come out and we were able to see thousands of them, complete with a police escort going over the main street. Quite bizarre really.  The last place that we went for a drink was O´Reillys bar, an Irish pub, which was significant because both my cousin and Ben´s sister had worked there recently. Ben´s sister as a result was there to serve us.  Small world.  By now it was getting later so we got a lift back to Oberursel and made a few last minute plans for the next section of the adventure - Bavaria.

It seems appropriate for Luxembourg to have a small section of its own on the blog, so while we only spent about 12 hours there, it is worth its own mention.  The Grand Prix finished at about 16.00, but at 19.00 we were still in traffic on the way to the campsite.  That is, it took us 3 hours to travel 11km.  For an indication of how frustrating that is, if we had been in Lewis´ McLaren, he could have got us from Paris to Berlin in that time.  Anyway, once back at the campsite we frantically packed up and tried to get hold of a taxi.  Unfortunately none seemed to be really running, so we got hold of a local man who was ferrying people around for the weekend.  However he was not in business that evening so pointed us towards his friend who would help us out.  To cut a long story short, we ended up hitching to the station in a random local man´s car.  He spoke no english, so we small-talked about the Grand Prix in the most basic of French.

To get to the station at Trois Ponts was a massive relief - the alternative to hitching had been a 12km route march through the Ardennes with full packs and no guaruntee that we would actually get to the station on time.  Our travel excitement was not to be over yet however, as the Trois Ponts to Luxembourg line was being repaired, so we had to catch a connecting bus for a large amount of the journey.  Eventually however, we arrived in Luxembourg City.  It was a MASSIVE relief - none of us honestly thought we would get there that evening and we envisaged ourselves camping rough in the Ardennes in the rain. I have to say, I don´t think that there have ever been three people so happy to be in Luxembourg.  To top this, the hostel we were staying at was superb - with nice showers, tvs in the rooms and for me in my single room, a double bed.  I would say that that night we had our best night´s sleep of the trip.

Our train for Frankfurt left at 9am the next morning, but Morgie and I didn´t want to miss the chance to explore another city/country so got up at 7am to explore.  Our quick tour of the city probably took in the majority of the sites and it was quite an interesting place - a UNESCO World Heritage site for those of you who know about my obsession with such things.  All of the photos on this post are of the city centre. We got the train on time and then made our way from Luxembourg to Frankfurt, via Trier and Koblenz up the pretty Rhine valley.  Frankfurt however, is a story for another blog.

While technically I am currently in Frankfurt, the last few days have been so exceptionally manic that I thought it best to divide them into three sections.  This, the first, will cover our trip to the Belgian Grand Prix, the second our trip to Luxembourg City and the third to encompass our trip in Frankfurt.  I´m afraid that this is going to be a long one.  Our story starts in Brussels, on D-Day plus 3, where we got up early to do some crucial shopping - for food and fuel for our meals while camping at the GP.  This started badly, as it took us an hour to find a supermarket, but once there we managed to get some fairly substantial meals together - steak and vegetables for that evening and pasta for the next.  Unfortunately we couldn’t find any fuel, but we reassured ourselves that there would be chance to buy that later.

So, for the trainspotters amongst you, we then travelled to the small village of Trois Ponts, via Liege.  The journey was straightforward, but when we arrived we realised that getting to our campsite could well be difficult - the REGION of Trois Ponts contains 2,500 people - the train station was one of the few major buildings, it was raining, and we didn´t quite know where we were going (Daniel had brought a google earth map to navigate by - a great idea in theory, but unfortunately it meant finding directions based upon recognizing the roofs of buildings).  However, we were quite impressed with the region itself - I had assumed that Belgium was flat and featureless, but the Ardennes Forest was actually really spectacular.  Eventually we managed to find a bus station and travelled to the town of Stavelot, from where we walked the remaining 4km to the campsite in the rain.  The site was a standard muddz field full of tents, with the major difference being the wealth of the tent owners.  Never before have I seen Aston Martins and Porsches on a campsite, and never before do I want to see such beautiful machines trying to work their way through the mud.

That night, after putting up our tents and sorting ourselves out, it rained.  Unfortunately we hadn´t found our cooking fuel yet - all our fellow campers were using portable bbqs rather than trangias, so we were left with a whole lot of cold food.  What followed was the most revolting meal of my life (behind perhaps only peanut wraps).  In a desparate bit for food, we raided the vegetable section of our “steak and veg” meal, and ended up with “raw mushroom and pringle sandwiches”.  With the steaks sitting there in our tent, uncookable, a substantial part of me died right there.


Anyway, that is the story of our camping. I shall now condense the story of the two days of the Grand Prix into one section to save this blog going on forever.  The good photos of close ups of drivers were taken by Daniel with his fancy camera by the way.  On Saturday we got the bus to the track (for those that don´t know, the Spa track is widely acknowledged as the most popular track in motor racing) and found a seat on a rocky slope overlooking the track, where we remained perched for all of qualifying.  There were also numerous other races that went on between the Formula One - the GP2 and Porsche cups for example.  Qualifying was exciting - Petrov´s crash in the first lap of Q1 was right in front of us and Fernando Alonso nearly ended up outside of the top 10.  This would have been good as we don´t like Alonso, but unfortunately he managed to pull a good lap out of the bag.  Our seats were very uncomfortable, but we managed to put the thought out of our mind. For the most part.  After qualifying we had a wander through the F1 village, where numerous stalls tried to sell us overpriced merchandise.  Daniel “really needed” his 15 euro keyring.

The night of qualifying they had a guest speaker in the campsite marquee.  His name was Perry McCarthy (I had never heard of him either), however he was introduced as “black Stig” - you know, the one that got killed off on Top Gear on HMS Invincible.  He spoke really well actually about all sorts.  At one stage he raced in Formula One, though a quick look on wikipedia reveals he never actually completed a race. Fail.

Petrov. Worst qualifying lap ever.

The next day was race day and we decided to sit in the same seats - the view was really good from there, but this time we came better prepared with something to sit on.  The crowds were a lot bigger today so we got to our seats 4 hours before the race began.  There were things going on though - the GP2 and GP3 races for instance, which were followed by the drivers´ parade, where the F1 drivers were driven around on the backs of classic cars, waving regally.  The race itself was made very interesting by the rapid changes in weather - from bright sunshine to torrential rain several times over the 2 hours.  Of course, for those who watched the race, there was massive dissapointment when Vettel kamikazed Jenson, eliminating any possibility of a McLaren one-two, but Hamilton drove superbly (bar giving us a heart attack as he overshot a corner into the gravel pit).

After the race, we headed for the exit as soon as possible, needing to get a train to Luxembourg.  I have decided however that this section of the trip deserves a post to itself.

Lewis Hamilton. Win

Vettel with a puncture. Gutted.

Woke up to the sounds of rain from the hold of our boat.  Started to pack our stuff, but then the power went (and with it the lights in our cabin), so the packing ended up being 90% guesswork.   Our cabin may well be still full of our kit.  We have the essentials (passport/train ticket/grand prix ticket/ductape) so don’t worry mum and dad.  Ate as much free food as possible at breakfast (travel tip #1), before having a look at the replica Dutch trade ship that was moored nearby.  This was cheap and fairly interesting - the highlight was Morgie dislodging a replica cannon and trying to straighten it.  He seems to be unable to not touch EVERYTHING when in a museum.  As he reads this he says he likes to “get his money’s worth”. Ha.

From there we picked our bags up from the hostel, handed our keys in and headed to Amsterdam station in the torrential rain.  While this was a short journey, we learnt travel tip #2: don’t wear a poncho with a rucksack.  I now have only shreds of a waterproof remaining.  The train journey was fairly painless, though it was clear that our rucksacks were not appreciated by our fellow travellers.  The ticket conductor complimented the three of us for having filled in our Interrail pass correctly - apparently everyone fails on their first journey.  Ahhh yeah.

Arrived in Brussels at half 2 and headed to the town centre for lunch.  Found a little cafe off Grand Place for a sandwich, chips and beer.  The meal was made more interesting by a man in a Peugout driving straight through a bollard.  The combination of EVERYONE in all the cafes staring, and the metal bollard rolling slowly but loudly across the square was well worth watching.  The poor man had actually wedged his car on the bollard and had to lift it up.  My sense of politeness stopped Morgie from taking a picture for the blog.  After lunch I had my first Belgian chocolate.  A lot of it.

The hostel was very pleasant and though we had booked a dormitory, we had it to ourselves for our one night stay.  It is located just off the main shopping street and after we had dropped our bags off, we started a vague tour of all the sites.  Starting with the Grand Place (which is epic - far more impressive than anything in Amsterdam, it has to be said), we walked to the Mannekin Pis (a statue of a small cupid having a pee - the worst tourist attraction I have seen in my life and yet somehow an integral part of Belgian culture).  Daniel and Morgie then had a waffle, the latter eating it with the majority of his face.

A whistle stop tour of the rest of she sites followed - the Palais de Justice (covered in scaffold - fail), several cathedrals, the Royal Palace, the Brussels Gardens and a column with a famous Belgian guy on top.  This took 2 hours and I think that we actually managed to take in most of the city in the short time that we have here - we leave tomorrow for the Grand Prix.  As a result, our evening has been mostly spent making final arrangements for the weekend - apparently it is set to rain heavily, which is good for the TV spectator, but not great for us in our tents and torn ponchos.  For all of those who are watching the Grand Prix (can a family member of mine please record both qualifying AND raceday), I shall be wearing the scraps of a bright red poncho while waving a massive Union Flag, Daniel will be wearing his bright orange McLaren top OVER his waterproof, and Morgie will be bearing the Union Flag that we will tattoo to his torso this evening.  Subject to change.

I know I have blogged everyday, but that has been due to the rapid movement between cities thus far - the next blog will probably be about the Grand Prix at the start of next week.  I hope you can wait till then - I certainly can’t! (haaa)

COLES

Yesterday’s kind of counts as a “we have landed safely” entry.  Today was our first full day, and our only full day in Amsterdam.  After speaking with an Australian couple about who was going to win the Ashes at the hostel, we packed down at just gone midnight this morning.  In the knowledge that if we didn’t get up and go, we would probably faff the morning away, we left the hostel just before 10.  We were provided with a continental breakfast which I had forgotten about and wasn’t bad.

Greetings,

So here we are, in Amsterdam and this is our first blog (or I could say, clog).  We flew out in the mid afternoon, which took a ridiculous amount of time as there appeared to be major storms in Europe.  Apparently only one of Amsterdam’s five runways was functioning, so we spent a lot of time at Luton. Capital of culture.  It was fairly straightforward getting into the city centre from the airport, but in our first day of the trip nervousness we nearly ended up on a train to Eindhoven.  Luckily we realised our mistake and got to the right platform.  The central Amsterdam station had labelled its southern exit ‘north’ which threw us a bit but eventually we made our way to the hostel (not without the massive stress of me dropping both my interrail and Grand Prix tickets, with a combined cost of half a grand, and only Morgie’s quick footwork stopping them from blowing into a canal).  We also got completely drenched as the storm that had been brewing broke.


Our hostel is in fact, a boat which is very cool.  As a result, our rooms (cabin) are very small, but in an amusing way that gives good anecdotes.  Luckly, as I write this it has calmed down a bit weather-wise, as I can’t imagine many worse places to ride a storm out than on a boat.


The plans for the evening were scuppered a bit by rain, but we have been out and eaten a whole lot of pizza and are now back at the hostel bar, speaking to other travellers.  First impressions of Amsterdam, having walked through a fair few streets searching for food, is that it is quite distinctive, but that there is a real blatant sordid side which I personally find pretty uncomfortable.  Each to their own.

Over and out
Coles

Hello and welcome.

This, is the blog for mine (Alex Coles), Daniel Hankin’s and a cast of other friends’ interrail trip around Europe.  As somebody with a severe attention to detail, I have been writing diaries of my holidays for years.  Given the more adventurous nature of this particular trip and the fact that it has seemingly gained outside interest, I thought I would update my chosen medium to the 21st century.  This is a challenge for me, because my standard style is to dryly recount the facts of the trip as the only person who is likely to read said account is me in twenty years’ time.  I will therefore endeavour to keep the posts as interesting and as readable as possible for you.

Having said that, this first post is a bit of a non post.  Daniel is currently in Sri Lanka and in my holiday boredom I have Microsoft Exceled the trip to death.  Every minute is now accounted for.  Actually thinking about it, this is an ideal place to outline the trip in its entirety.  The plan is thus:

24th to 26th Aug  -  Amsterdam, Holland
26th to 27th Aug  -  Brussels, Belgium
27th to 29th Aug  -  Spa Grand Prix, Belgium
29th to 1st Sept   -  Frankfurt, Germany
1st to 3rd Sept     -  Munich, Germany
3rd to 5th Sept     -  Berchtesgaten, Germany
5th to 6th Sept     -  Salzburg, Austria
6th to 8th Sept     -  Vienna, Austria
8th to 10th Sept   -  Bratislava, Slovalkia
10th to 12th Sept -  Budapest, Hungary
12th to 14th Sept -  Llubljana, Slovenia
14th to 16th Sept -  Venice, Italy.

According to Google Earth, the trip is 1500 miles as the crow flies.  I started writing today because it dawned on me that in a fortnight we shall be in Amsterdam, which is actually a very exciting thought.  For now though, it is a case of sitting tight and waiting for results day to pass by.  See you in Holland.