Budapest - my favourite city

Budapest was a revelation.

It was the third European destination I visited. Vienna was the first i visited; but it seemed too spic and span.  Budapest had only been free for seven years. It gained its freedom in 1989 with “the velvet revolution” and still had that communist diaspora about it. The free delights of capitalism hadn’t turned it upside down.

The funny thing is that there was nothing physically solid about forty years of communism. You can tell it happened by the gentle backwardness of this place. But nothing Soviet is left. Its all been consigned to a museum and consigned to history. The truth is most liberal and affluent iron curtain cities, it programme of enlightened communism meant a better standard of living for its inhabitants. The transition between old and new has been smoother than any other countries.

Modern history is alive and well in Budapest. There was a sense of great things happening here. Of course I was one of the first. Along with Prague there was a sense of occasion. That we were exploring new territory. The best thing to do is just walk the streets. There is such a sense of history here. The inhabitants have witnessed the invasion and destruction and nearly forty years under the communists.

Budapest is divided into two parts. Buda and Obuda west of the Danube (Duna) and Pest to the east. They are connected by numerous bridges including the famous chain bridge. If you want peace and quiet stay in Buda, but for nightlife and shopping, Pest is best.

Homestays are a good idea and an absolute bargain. Those old ladies at Keleti-pu station holding pictures of accommodation are genuine and very useful. They aren't as sweet as they look.There truth is that you can splash out here. The devalued forint goes along way

One thing that benefited under the communists was public transport. Numerous buses and trams dot the city. The trams in particular are full of old character and rattle along the river shore. There is an underground system consisting of four lines each connecting each other to the overground stations. One of the most interesting is the one on Andrassy Utca where you walk from the roadside straight onto the platform.

But Budapest is full of new experiences

Trabants creaking along, Horos Ter, rattling trams, the ‘Labyrinth, baboons at Budapest zoo, ‘Action’ Bar, the tight lipped attendants in the museum, the gruff hotel attendant with large moustache, Ottoman bathouses, Moskva Ter, St Matyas templedom.....Lion Courtyard... the Cardinal of Budapest...Gellert Hill....oh, and the Magyars...

Bologna - Piazza di Maggiore

 Every city in Italy has it's Piazza.

Some are world famous such as San Marco or San Pietro but each fills a communal need to promenade, relax or be part of the city that they live in. 

One of the most impressive is the Piazza di Maggiore in Bologna. It dates back to the 12th century with its gothic buildings and palaces and from here the ruby colonnaded streets fan out in a great wheel shape. To sit in Piazza di Maggiore is to watch the great show that is living in Italy where academics sit and read newspapers, old men walk up and down, and teenagers talk into mobile phones. And take a look around - no tourists! Just how many cities in Italy can you say that...

The star of the show is Piazza di Maggiore. All roads in Bologna lead to this magnificent piazza and the two main shopping streets Ugo Bassi and Via Rizzoli spoke out from its northern edge. Ugo Bassi is an elegant shopping street enhanced by medieval porticoes (see photo).

Here the shoppers can wander from Benetton to Prada without being exposed to the elements and can concentrate on looking good as they do it. It is not just enough to shop in Bologna but to look good as you shop as well. At the end of Ugo Bassi near where it opens up into the Piazza is a medieval fountain. Water has been gushing into a horsetrough here for 700 years, and as have probably the old men who sit nearby commenting on every passing signoria who struts past.

But as you approach the Piazza your eye will be drawn to the Fontana di Netune (see photo). This baroque masterpiece was erected in 1640 and looks its best when a sunny sky shows it off against the orange buildings behind. It is a dark marble statue of the Sea god with trident who is poised above four seagoddesse's with water gushing from their breasts. It is the focal point of the city and there are always a few teenagers sitting at its base. 

As you continue the Piazza opens up and its size can be appreciated. On the west side is the Palazzo de Enzo which dates from the 14th century and is topped with dark crenellations and a green statue embedded halfway up the wall. On the north side is the incredible Palazzo de Podesta with its porticoes and cafes which spill into the Piazza. Next year Bologna will be one of the European cities of culture (one of ten!)and it was festooned with flags from all the 56 European nations.

Underneath its porticoes is a very useful touristico (tourist information office) and they can sort you out a walking tour of the city or help in any way they can. But the pride of the Piazza has to be the church of St Petronius. Built in the 13th century as principal place of worship for the university and it's dons it is one of the most important buildings in the city. We were lucky to catch the end of a Sunday service and the air of devotion was very contagious. Not brilliantly endowed with statues and frescoes this is a community church rather then a tourist attraction but worth your time nonetheless.

To the right of the church is the start of Via Massimo D'Allegio. This delightful porticoed street was full of fashionable boutiques and shops. In the early morning sun it was bright orange in colour and it was fun to window shop and imagine you can afford the 300,000 lira hand-crafted shoes.

If you follow this round you will come across Piazza Garibaldi. Nearly every street in Bologna is named after a revoloutionary and this one had a white marble statue. Set off against the apricot buildings and sapphire sky - this became my favourite Piazza in Bologna. Under its porticoes is one of the best academic bookshops in Bologna, and its English language section is excellent and can absorb you for hours.

But Piazza di Maggiore and around really comes alive at night. The Bolognese take their 'passeigetta' seriously and dress up in their best clothes. They make a circuit of the Piazza, nodding to friends, and taking a coffee in the cafes while listening to bands playing. You too can join in the performance and take a table under the Palazzo de Podesta. Arm yourself with a cinzano, put on your dark glasses, and - who knows? - you may get away with being an Italian

Bath - Glastonbury - the resting place of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere

"And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England's mountain green? And was the holy Lamb of God? On England's pleasant pastures seen?"

William Blake, 1757-1837

And did these feet in ancient times walk upon the hills of Glastonbury? The feet Blake refers to belong to Jesus Christ. Did our Lord walk the hills of Somerset two thousand years ago?

Well, it is possible. His uncle was Joseph of Arimathea who owned concessions in the nearby tin mines and there is a chance, however slim, of the infant Jesus accompanying his uncle on a trading expedition. He could indeed have visited the tiny village of Glastonbury....

For this ancient town is one of the centres of Christianity in Britain. It it in fact a vortex of many religions - pagan and Christian - and a well of legends and myth's. This is where King Arthur and Queen Guinevere are supposed to have been buried. This was where Joseph of Arimathea struck his staff into the ground and a 'holy thorn' sprung forth and is said to be the final resting place of the holy grail. Glastonbury is immersed in the mythical, even mystical, idea of Engand. Side by side with the ruins of one of the most ancient of Abbey's is a new age town immersed in crystals and spiritual healing. In Glastonbury you can be at one with nature or god, worshipping the earthmother while a neighbour worships at the shrine of St Dunstan or St Bridget. The very air of Glastonbury fizzles with beliefs and spirituality.

Part of this is due to the fact that Glastonbury is so remote. For most of it's history it was an island surrounded by Somerset marshes. King Arthur's remains were mean't to have been brought by boat to Glastonbury Tor which is a massive hill on the outskirts of town and may be the fabled 'Isle of Avalon'. A lone tower surmounts the Tor with sweeping views of the Somerset countryside. In pagan times this would have been a remote island, surrounded by mists, marshes and forests. It is still a devil to get to being twenty miles from Bath and only four from Wells - the best way of reaching it is by car. On public transport this takes some doing. The #173 bus leaves Bath bus station at five minutes past each hour, it takes a further one and a half hours to reach Wells. Buses between Wells and Glastonbury occur every half hour.A £5 bus pass allows unlimited travel in Somerset for the day and is excellent value. It can be seen as a day trip from Bath, but I think it is best to stay overnight - there are a number of cheap hotels and hostels in the town.

Early building goes back to 650AD when the beginnings of a small church appear. St Dunstan enlarged this church and by the Middle Ages this had become the great Benedictine Abbey. Glastonbury was one of the wealthiest Abbeys in England, its last Abbot, Richard Whiting, played a major part in the administration of Renaissance England. This great monastery drew pilgrims from all over the country. The pilgrims found in Glastonbury what they were seeking spiritually and brought with them wealth which was donated to the Abbey. The Abbey grew in strength and prosperity and around the monastery grew up a picturesque town supporting the the monks with local services of every kind.

Domesday came in 1539. Masterminded by Thomas Cromwell 'The dissoloution of the Monasteries' came into being. All those who opposed King Henry VIII's succession as head of the English church were ruthlessly dealt with. When Cromwells commissioners arrived they thieved all the gold plate, and Abbot Richard Whiting stuck to his guns about the Pope being god's representative on earth not the King. Richard Whiting was marched up to Glastonbury Tor then hung and beheaded. The monks were pensioned off and they reduced the mighty Abbey to dust.

Not quite dust...

The ruins of Glastonbury Abbey stand in the middle of the town. Moody and magnificent they are the highlight of a trip to this mysterious town and should be your first port of call when you arrive. It occupies the centre of town in a huge park - the High Street occupies the western part with it's crystal shops and organic restaurants. The northern road is Chilkwell Street which leads to the Tor and Chalice Well, the eastern road is Beare Street and the road which has the entrance on to the south is Magdalene Street. Here you will find the bus stop to Wells and the car-park for visitors. Glastonbury Abbey is open from 9.00am to 6.00pm and costs £3.50 to enter. Allow at least an hour to do the site justice and make sure you pick up a map of this extensive parkland and it's many ruins.

The museum will be your first stop and it is worth it to have a look at the scale model of the Abbey. But it is when you step outside that you get the feel of what it actually looked like. The ruined nave of the Abbey is absolutely massive (see photo) and stretches for 100ft. Crumbling grey stone greets you with walls still a metre thick. All windows, gates and interiors have gone leaving a windswept shell with grass growing on it's cracked roof. Even it's corpse is still impressive with transept walls over 50ft into the air and covered in carved stone tracery. Looking north towards the nave are the great arches supporting the fanned ceiling, now the walls are ragged and battered by the elements.

A small cross stands where grass now grows in the nave. This cross marks the spot where the tomb of Arthur and Guinevere were buried. They were dug up in 1278 and interred by the monks watched over by King Edward I (he of 'Braveheart' fame) but for a thousand years this is where they lay. For many years they were interred under the altar but disappeared during the sacking of the Abbey. I think that is probably the worst of the crimes committed here. It was at this point that I got angry at the vandalism of King Henry VIII - the closest England has ever got to a dictator. A little recompense came later when I found out that he repented this desecration on his deathbed.

Away from the shell of the church the great park covers the site of the Abbey where the ruins of cloisters can be seen. The medieval herb garden still stands, although very overgrown. But the best thing is the Abbot's kitchen. This was the only building to survive the desecration and stands alone with a pointed roof. Inside were huge fireplaces and hooks where entire oxen were hung. Monks would live a very freugal diet of bread and wine. The Abbots, however, had time and money to entertain wonderfully. Their ingredients were laid out on a table - barley, vegetables, cheddar cheeses, malt hops and fresh meat and fish. These monks had a simple life but a contented one.

I thought on this as I was leaving. The ruins of the Abbey looked sad and forlorn in the fading light. But they were still powerful, a testament to what man can do another in the name of religion.

Barcelona - Life doesn't get any better then this

Its the sunshine which is the draw in Barcelona.

In summer the city glows. The sunshine heats the city up. The sunshine you can feel on the back of your neck as you wander around the Barri Gotic. It washes over the rooftops and lights up those stallholders on Las Ramblas and those art students coming out of Picasso and Jean Miro. ~Because Barcelona humms with art, From Casa Mila to Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia.

The city itself is spectacular. Spreading out across the medditerranean shores it is hemmed in by mountains to the north and the great port to the south. For the 1992 Olympics (which in my view were the most classy in living memory)the whole city was spruced up and now shines and gleams with modern architecture. But the best things to do are just wander around. The walk down the most famous street in Spain - La Ramblas - is a highlight - and one that you will return to again and again....

Time seems to float by in Barcelona. Just walking and enjoying the streets will fill your days. But it is no Shangri-La. Petty crime is rife and the warnings that you have heard about the Barri Gotic, especially in the Barri Xines, are true. Keep your eyes peeled and your wallet close.

But my best tip to you is the Font Magica. Between 7.30pm -10.30pm in summer, the great fountain underneath the Palau National is lit up and dances and moves to classical music. This is one of the highlights of Spain, in fact, in all of Europe. While we were there they played plenty of crowd pleasers. Star Wars, Gone with the wind were played but the great movement was the opening strains of ‘Sleeping Beauty’. But the big battle is being Freddie Mercury and Montserrat Caballe singing 'Barcelona'

I think the Barcelona public transport system is one of the best in the world. For 150 pesetas (80p/.50) you can ride all around the city on swift, clean underground trains. Buses are excellent and the great hub is the Placa de Catalunya where they fan out (including a useful one to the airport). But for trips out of the city the trains are your best bet. A train station lies under Placa de Catalunya and you can reach Sitges and Tarragona listening to piped classical music as you look out of the window.

Another note, you are in Catalunya now, which is different from the rest of Spain. You will notice the yellow and red flags of Catalunya draped over everything and they have their own history and culture (see later entry on Museo de Catalunya).It's quite a shock after just mastering everything Castilean to suddenly switch to Catalan 

Bangkok - Wat Po - temple of the reclining Buddha

My most vivid memory of sumptuous Wat Po has to be the dragonflies.

They flit around the compound like little buzzing jewels in the heat. You can hear and see them everywhere and for me were one of the reasons why this magnificent temple is one of the highlights of Bangkok. The entire place dazzles with it's tapering prau's and golden buddha statues. When you see the spires and gold leaf of the temple from a distance across the Bangkok skyline, especially when it is lit up at night, you remember why you were inspired to visit Thailand in the first place.

The temple compound predates the city of Bangkok. It's white walls were there when there was nothing of Bangkok but a marshy bend in the river. It dates from the 17th century when it was known as Wat Potaram. Only we foreigners call it the old name - Wat Po - Thai's call it Wat Pha Chetaphon after the name of the road it is situated on. But the most satisfying thing about Wat Po is that it is still an active monastery. Thai monks in their saffron robes and shaved heads are in profusion here and not only is it a religious retreat but a centre of learning. Religious tutors taught novices astrology, history, literature and theology. Wat Po could be considered one of Thailands first universities. On your travels around the Wat you will bump into many of these monks. Many Thai's as children do a little time as monks and to catch a teaching session underneath a banyan tree with elder monks speaking to wide-eyed novices is to catch a little bit of magical Thailand.

 To get there is relatively simple. It is literally a hop, skip and jump from the amazing Grand Palace. When you leave the palace turn left, and left again until you reach Maharaj Road which runs paralell to the river. If you follow the white crenellated walls of the Grand Palace for 200m you will see the spires and praus of the temple. From the river, Tha Thien is the closest waterbus stop, and from Siam Square the fare in a tuk-tuk costs about 50 baht. This is one of the major attractions in Thailand so there are always hawkers, drink-sellars and tuk-tuk drivers buzzing around the entrance which costs 125 baht (£2/$3.50). You will be offered the services of a guide for an extra 100 bahts - this is a good idea because he can tell you about the amazing detail and history of the place. Also, another word of advice stock up on cold water. There is none to be had in there and the humidity and high temperature means dehydration is a real problem.

The compound is massive, over 400 ft long. Most tourists head straight for the temple of the Reclining Buddha which is just to the right of the entrance but there are plenty of other attractions. The gigantic Ubosoth (ordination hall) stands in the centre of the compound and is surrounded by a concentric cloister, and the royal chedi is between this and the entrance. But it is the forest of chedis in the compound that is stunning. There must be about 100 of these, and each one was a round base of inlaid porcelain sweeping up in a bulbous mass to a tapering point (see photo). A pair of 12ft Chinese warrior statues guard the outer entrance to the compound and look almost disneylike with their Fu Manchu moustaches and rich robes (see photo). These are not the only statues in the compound - there are 200 year old statues of farang's (foreigners) with straw hats and oversize features. To add to the attraction huge dragonflies as big as your hand buzz around the chedi's and ornamental shrubs.

 At the back of the Wat is a massage school. For 50 baht old Thai women will lay on hands while you stretch out on mats. But it was the southern side of the Bot which interested me as they led into the cloisters leading to the Ordination hall. The cloisters themselves contained long glass cases of priceless statues of the Buddha rescued from Ayutthaya or Sukhothai. Each was seated in a cross-legged fashion, 4ft high and covered in gold leaf - they wore beatific expressions, coiled hair and were dressed in the red robes of the monks around them. There must have been about forty of them in one cloister. As I did wander around the compound I bumped into numerous peaceful monks who still in quiet contemplation adding to the tranquility of the place. What we forget is that these monasteries are holy residences in Bangkok, tourists are wandering around the monks workplace, home and place of worship.

I got an idea of this as I approached the 100ft high Ordination hall where a low chanting was emanating. I removed my boots and stepped over the temple threshold, and careful not to show the soles of my feet to the Lord Buddha (a big no-no in Thailand), sat down at the back. A number of robed monks were sitting on a dais acknowledging a chant from an old monk on a rostrum. High above was a golden Buddha atop a dais of gilt which contrasted with the decor of the temple which was bright scarlet. I sat cross-legged for ten minutes until the last monk left and lapped up the contemplatative atmosphere and the sheer exoticness of it all.

 But the star of the show is the 'Temple of the Reclining Buddha' which is on all the tour bus itineries. The viharn containing this stands near the entrance and is over 70ft long. Inside a 50ft long statue of the Buddha sleeping on his side with his arm under his head. He is covered in shiny gold from his curled head to his mother-of-pearl feet and is lit by oil lamps. For a few baht you can drop forty small coins into forty bowls and the giant golden titan may grant you a wish.

There is no doubt that Wat Po is one of the great sights of Bangkok and I rate it above the Grand Palace. You get a sense that you are intruding on something here, that holy life goes on around you and that you have to fit into it. If you are willing to do so - to take off your boots and enjoy the chanting and holy air - then Wat Po will be your most rewarding experience in Bangkok.

Athens - Piraeus - ferries to the islands

Athens, for all its attractions, is also one of the biggest travel fulcrums in the world.

From here tourists head off in a dozen directions. The famous islands seem to be the most popular destination and many visitors roll off the airplane, spend a day gawping at the Acropolis, then head straight for the ferries. From Piraeus you can reach the Dodecanese, the Sporades, Rhodes, Crete and even Israel and Egypt. Every traveller in the world does the Greek ferries at one point. They are part of world mythology. For many people the sunshine and sand of the myriad of islands is a lure as strong as the 'song of Circe'. And most pass through the memorable port of Piraeus.

And this is a port of the old school. Greece is all about experiences and in this age of the modern airplane it is one of the few places in the world where you can partake of a "voyage" such those which went on before the age of jet travel. You can experience the mooring rope being thrown off, the last passengers making a dash for the gangplank and that feeling of excitement in the pit of your stomach that an adventure has just started.Of course it is not all about the glamour of travelling by ship. Piraeus is a big grimy port handling millions of passengers. The peak rush hour happens very early in the morning (when the ships leave) and late in the afternoon (when the ships come in). In between it's a bustling suburb which still gets its living from the sea. 

Practicalities

So you want to get to the islands?

There are ticket agents galore around the METRO station and along the quayside. But the last thing you want is to be stuck in the queue for a ticket while your ship gets ready to raise anchor. I recommend buying a ticket the day before. There are numerous travel agencies in central Athens especially around Omonia Square. But be careful - I bought one to Mykonos the day I arrived, and when I doublechecked the Polish ticket agent sold me a ship departing from Patras over 40 miles from Athens - so I had to go back and change it. Ticket prices start at about 20 euros to the Cyclades and up to 60 euros for as far away as Crete and Rhodes. Also, if you can, try and book a seat. The advantages of this will become obvious later in this journal.

OK, you are clutching your little ticket. How do I get to the boats from Central Athens. Athens' new spiffy METRO, polished in time for the 2004 Olympics, will whisk you there from Omonia, Akropolis or Syntagma. The journey takes about half an hour and the ticket is about 6 euros. There are two "rush hours" from Piraeus, early morning and late evening, and both create quite a crush in the METRO carriages. Taxis to Piraeus from Omonia/Syntagma only cost about 8 euros.

When you get there most of the crowds will be heading in the same direction as you. Head out the side entrance and to the south of here the great ships, hundreds of feet high, loom out of the darkness. Whatever you do - go by the ferry company name. If you are lucky you may have "Blue Star" or "Minoan" lit up in neon letters making things easier. The ships to the Cyclades are directly across from the METRO station. But the Argo-Saronic ships are further along the port and the direct ships to Crete are a five minute walk away. Separating the METRO station from the water is a busy road called Akti Kalimasioti - part of the refurbishment of Piraeus means there is an escalator/footbridge connecting with the other side.

The Ferries

So you have found your ship and patiently queue to be let on. Firstly, they make you stow your luggage in the hold. No one is allowed their luggage up on deck with them. Therefore your luggage will be put in a pile with hundreds of others, make sure you remember exactly where you stowed it so as to avoid any embarrassing panics when you disembark. I didn't - and I am still under the psychotherapist.

Up on deck there is no doubt the ferries have improved from the creaking rust buckets of yesteryear but these cash-cows still try to cram in as many people as possible. Every conceivable space will be full of people - families will grab tables, backgammon sets will be brought out and people set up camp in the passageways. That is why it is important to prebook seats. The reserved area has aircraft style seats with good views outside the windows. There are restaurants and coffee bars aboard the ferries but most serve snack food, not a sit down meal. Many passengers bring their own provisions.

But if you can spend as much time as you can on the upper deck. The views can be stupendous - we had the great white bulk of the 'Oriana' cruiseliner pass us by as we left Piraeus. And Piraeus itself looks impressive at night with all the buildings lit up in the darkness.. But best of all are the islands as you pass by. Before you reach your destination you are likely to stop at a minimum of two. And as amusing as the mad scramble of motorbikes and tourists up the gangplank is - nothing quite beats the sight of the islands themselves with their starkly barren brown cliffs, Mediterranean architecture, wheeling gulls, and medieval fishing villages -all washed in golden Aegean sunlight.

Truly a special part of the world

Arusha - exploring Lake Manyara NP

Ooooohhh...that felt good.

You could see an elephant think this as he rubbed his backside against a scratching post.

The scratching post was a simple tree trunk in the forest. It was obviously a favourite place of a small herd we encountered that included mother and baby. A young tusker was a big attraction and was throwing dust over his grey back. Elephants are so watchable – they are always interacting with each other. But all of Lake Manyara National Park has been good. I like the way it is a small corridor of land squeezed between the 300ft escarpment and the soda lake. Streams run down from the cliffs and hot springs burst from the ground and run all the way to the lake. There are volcanic forces at work in East Africa and nowhere is it more evident than in Lake Manyara.

It’s reachable through the Maasai tourist town of Mwo wa Mbu at the foot of the escarpment. The entrance is at the western end of town and you know you are there due to gigantic baobab trees covered in the guano of pelicans and storks. Entrance is high $35 per person plus 10,000 schillings per vehicle. The forest begins almost immediately and I thoroughly recommend the visitors centre which allows you to wander the forest on a number of cane walkways. The visitors centre explains how water is important to the park and has a few interesting exhibits. I didn’t know the John Wayne action film "Hatari" was filmed here in the fifties.

Then we drove along the forest trail. What makes Manyara different is that it is not like most game parks with wide open spaces as it is mostly forest. Underground springs mean abundant vegetation – sausage trees, acacia scrub, banana trees, open meadows and baobab trees looking "Gothic" against the sky. This same vegetation began to move next to us and a Sykes monkey was looking at us from the branches. You like monkeys? Manyara is bursting with them. It has the biggest population of baboons in the world. These began to emerge from the forest and looked like they were travelling in armies. Dozens at a time would cross the track. Babies clung to their mother’s undersides, teenagers would stop and watch you and older baboons – the big males –would take their time to show who was boss.

Then the park turned Elysian.

The park at this point opens up in green meadows and bubbling brooks. It was a favourite with elephants who appeared next to the track. Their huge grey bulks tearing up the green grass. We all gasped as we entered a glade babbled down surrounded by green vegetation. There with his back to us was a huge elephant with a leathery back. He saw us but continued sucking up water with his trunk and squirting it into his mouth. Our guide, George, got very excited at seeing a rare Bushbuck on the other bank. To see this tiny antelope with its small horns and delicate build wait patiently to drink was a real thrill.

The elephant itself took an interest in us – knowing that we were no threat he came up to 1ft of the van and watched us with his beady eye. Nothing beats the thrill of getting close to really big game. 

Alice Springs - We of the Never Never

One of the most memorable things about my trip to Australia was being woken up by dingoes.

They howled with the dawn light! After a freezing cold night in the outback the howling sounded terrible. It was the way a wolf howls. You can imagine them out there in the bush, stretching with the new day and announcing their presence to the world. Our guide says they are harmless and just hang around the campsite. But it is a most unnerving sound when you are struggling to wake up after a hard night under the stars.

I wouldn't have missed my tour out of Alice Springs to Uluru, Kings Canyon, and The Olgas for the world. I truly got a sense of the vast scale and harshness of the Northern Territory. The Red Centre of the continent is what can only be described as historically rich and scenically spectacular, and harbours the kind of landscapes that you came to especially to Australia to see. It also is one of the harshest, most forbidding places on the planet. Summer temperatures regularly reach 45 degrees C and don't drop down to 30 degrees C at night. This is a place where water is scarce, the plant and animal life hardy, and the people as tough and unbending as the landscape around them. There is a sense of real wilderness out here, real hardship. Water is precious and as valuable as the opals that come from the red ground. Where mistakes in this wilderness can lead to death and the sight of another human being is as rare and as welcome as you can get.

Desert practicalities 

Alice Springs is in the centre of the driest continent on earth.

Before setting off, we got a lecture on how to look after oneself in the desert. The first thing is water. It was drummed into us that we must drink 2 litres of water an hour. Dehydration is a real problem, especially in the 35 degree C baking heat. There was an incident the week before with a Japanese tourist not taking any water up with her when climbing Ayers Rock. She had to be brought down by helicopter. We were also told to wear strong sunblock and a hat. The sun is a real menace, and it goes some way to keeping the flies off. Also strong boots - there are snakes out there amongst the spinifex

Travel between Alice Springs and Ayers Rock

Let's get one thing straight: Ayers Rock/Uluru is over 400 miles from Alice Springs.

It's a long way. The prospect of flying in, seeing "the rock", and flying out again within a short space of time is an unrealistic one. It can be done. Emu Tours famously do a tour that gets you to "the Rock" and back to Alice in a day. This, of course, means 8 hours on the road and only an hour and a half at the monolith. Alternatively, you can fly direct from any major Australian city into Ayers Rock airport (which also has direct flights from Tokyo and Osaka). You can combine this with a stay at the Yulara resort (see below) for luxury in sight of "the rock" itself. But this is generally for tourists who are quite happy to pay for high prices.

The majority of tourists either use Alice as a base or join one of the 2- to 5-day tours, which stretch out into the outback taking in Kata Tijuca and Kings Canyon. It is possible to do this with a degree of luxury, but you must remember you are in the heart of the hardest, driest continent on earth. Relief in air-conditioning and protection from the flies isn't always an option. And what better way of getting close to the Australian outback than taking a camping trip. They are usually taken by knowledgeable guides who know all the history, botany, and legends of the aboriginal lands surrounding sacred Uluru, and the experience of sleeping in the desert under the stars is one which will stay with you for a long time.

Camping in the Outback

I picked WayOutBack tours (www.wayoutback.com.au). This had the reputation for small parties of tourists and the advantage of using 4-wheel-drive vehicles to get to places where other tourists can't. My tour was for 2 nights/3 days and cost A$388 (£200). We travelled hundreds of kilometres each day and slept at campsites. There were no frills and we were expected to pitch in, from doing the washing up to rustling spare wood from the roadside for the campfire each night. Our guide, Carolyn, was excellent, a fountain of knowledge about the local area. She would brook no nonsense - each one of us had a duty to perform, whether it was get the fire started, unpack the "swag bags," or put the "billycan" on the fire. Our "swag bags" were arranged around the fire, and we fitted sleeping bags inside these. Most useful, as the temperature plummeted to 0 degrees C at night.

The Yulara Resort

Of course, it doesn't have to be done as penny-pinching as a budget camping tour. Tour companies offer luxury accommodation at TheYulara resort, which stands in the shadow of the famous Ayers Rock. Uluru will hove into view as you drive along the Lassetter Highway, and this resort has won awards for its consideration for the environment. Not one of the ochre-coloured buildings is above gum tree height, and most of the hotels are disguised and spread over 30 acres. The cheapest beds are in the hostel for $50, and it rises to $1350 a night for Longitude 131,whose super-luxury tents are hidden amongst the dunes.

Buses do run from Alice Springs direct to the resort. And all accommodation should really be booked in advance via Ayers Rock Resort, which is based in Sydney (reservations@voyages.com.au). The central part of the resort is Shopping Square, a sort of terracotta area with sail awnings to keep off the sun. It's a good place for practicalities, such as digital camera batteries, camping utilities and a supermarket. The restaurants, however, are uniformly expensive. Although I can recommend Geckos, which had wood-fired pizzas for about $15.

Kings Creek Station Campground

I feel I have to mention this because to me this exemplified the Dead Red Heart of Australia. Kings Creek Station was our last camping stop before heading back to "Alice." It was a working station about 30 miles from Kings Canyon (Watarrka NP) and the nearest cheap accommodation. I have to say that, with the exception of the Pantanal in Brazil, this is the remotest place I have ever stayed in. First of all, it is a working camel station. There are so many wild camels in the area that they round them up using helicopters and shunt them off to the city to be sold overseas. Though some I suspect don't get that far, camel burgers are available at the restaurant.

You can experience the work firsthand with helicopter flights over the outback and quad-biking (www.kingscreekstation.com.au).You can hire their cabins for about $55 a night, which includes breakfast. We were using their campsite to "swag" down for the night, which was situated in a sandy clearing with views of the George Gill range. There was a table, barbecue, washbasin, and campfire. A little way off was an open-air shower that needed to be kept going with a wood burner. It was open to the elements - all I can say is, I hope there weren't any camels watching.

Vienna - the Risenrad and fairground at Praterstern

Along with Berlin and London, Vienna was one of the epicentres of the espionage world. It's proximity to Hungary and the Iron Curtain provided a fertile breeding ground for spies, defectors and black marketeers. This was the atmosphere that Graham Green captured perfectly in his classic book "The Third Man". 

The Viennse tourism industry has embraced the movie (recently voted the best British film of all time)and you can now visit the locations and even visit the stinky sewers of Vienna once a week. But, the most famous of the locations is situated in the Prater Park - the giant Riesenrad/Ferris Wheel - which has become a symbol of Vienna. The Volksprater itself is worth a trip out of central Vienna in itself as it provides a welcome break from all that history and gives you a chance to see the Viennese let their hair down and enjoy themselves.

Spy versus spy has always gone on in Vienna. Franz Josef kept a secret police as well as a vast set of informers. But it was only in the Second World war that it really took off as a spy capital. When the Soviets finally took Vienna in 1945 they occupied the city for five years. Under the terms of the German surrender the city was to be divided between the four occupying powers - French, American, Soviet and British - just like Berlin. T

he Aldstadt was to be patrolled between all four and there was much intrigue and suspicion as each security force watched the other. And provided the perfect setting for Graham Greene to set his novel amongst the shadows and rubble of occupied Vienna. Carol Reed's film (with its memorable zither music)is now just as much part of Vienna as the Hofburg or Lippizzaner horses and you can still see the locations. Orson Welles makes his first entrance as Harry Lime from a doorway in Herrengasse, his fake funeral was shot in the Ziefriedhof cemetery and the famous "cuckoo clock speech" (never has Switzerland been more maligned) took place in a carriage in the Ferris wheel at the Prater Park with Joseph Cotten.

To reach the Prater from central Vienna take a tram or U-bahn to Praterstern. The tram can be caught from Schwedenplatz and the advantage of this is that you can clank through the district of Leopoldstadt on its way. The old jewish district is charming with its apartment blocks and old shops. But the area at Praterstern with its tram terminus and U-bahn station is more human then the Aldstadt. You can see the ebb and flow of human life here and is much more gritty with tabaks, bierkellers and kebab shops.

The Risenrad will be seen looming over the surrounding buildings and is the first attraction you will come to when you enter the Volksprater (amusement park). The wheel itself is colossal (65ft high) and costs 80 Austrian schillings (£4/$6.50). There is always a queue and once you have boarded the carriages it takes twenty minutes to clank it's way around. The carriages themselves are 19th century and give expansive views of Vienna all the way to the Wienerwald. 

From this height you can see that the Prater is on an island between the Donau (Danube) and its canal that touches the Aldstadt. From its maximum height you can see all the way to Schonbrunn and its mustard yellow palace. Most tourists are here to recreate the Carol Reed movie. But I remember the Riesenrad from another movie - the James Bond film "The Living Daylights". Now where is that dinner jacket when I need it...

The Volksprater is at its best at night. There the lights, atmosphere and music come together to make a fun place for the Viennese. During the 19th Century it was very fashionable, the royalty and commoner frequenting its attractions. Now the most impressive thing is its size - it is like a miniature city of amusements with tree lined avenues, water-fountains and uncountable bierkellers. 

Back in its heyday crowds used to throng the place and there was an attraction called Lilliputstadt - an entire village populated by midgets. You can get a taste of this mode of thought by the Lilliputbahn, a miniature steam railway which travels around the park. But the Prater's charm is in its traditional attractions such as wurlitzers, dodgem-cars, helter-skelters, rollercoasters,spinning rides, ghost-trains, shooting galleries and a very sad merry-go-round that uses carriages pulled by real miniature horses.

Time slips away in the Volksprater and you will find yourself sitting in a bierkeller, munching on a bratwurst, clutching a stein of bier and watching the world go by. It is without doubt one of the most fun sights in Vienna

Venice - how to eat like a Venetian

At the Trattoria San Remo I was shown how to properly eat Italian sphegetti.

The proprietress showed me how to fluff it up so that the meat, tomato sauce and pasta are mixed together. Then you twist it around your fork ready for eating and wash it down with a good house wine. 

This little trattoria was one of the gems of Venice. And we wondered each night how we managed to find it as it was tucked away under the hundreds of bridges on one of the hundreds of canals north of the Bacino di Orseolo. For 33,000 lira we would have spaghetti Bolognese, fresh salad, bread and garlic oil. Or the seafood - what is the point in coming to Venice and not trying the seafood? Lobster and squid were very expensive but the "frito misto" - seafood fry-up was a bargain at 40,000 lira. It was so good I can taste it even now.

Part of the Venice experience is dining on a canalside restaurant. This experience does not come cheap as the restaurants pray on the tourist trade and have high prices. A general rule of thumb is that the more spectacular the location the higher the prices. If you choose a restaurant overlooking the Rialto bridge or the Grande Canale then it will be more expensive then a little trattoria tucked away in eastern Castello. After a while you will wonder how can the locals afford to eat here?

Venice is a city for the rich, there's no denying that, but people do live here and certainly don't go to the restaurants every night. They have the 'Bacari's' to cater for them. These are bars/tabacci's/cafes where they can pick up a pachito or pizza at a reasonable price. If you are a canny tourist you can spot the good Bacari and join the locals for their mid-day Bellini for half the price of the restaurants.

For there is a rule in Venice which says picnic's are forbidden (I broke this unintentionally) therefore tourists are forced to frequent the thousands of overpriced restaurants which line the Mercerie or Rialto Bridge. There is no real nightlife in Venice, certainly not comparable to Bologna or Milan, so in the evenings the tourists wander around Piazza San Marco, have something to eat then go to bed. There is only one disco in the city - 'Casanova' on the Lista di Spagna (which we didn't try) so most of the locals can in the car and go to Mestre or Lido di Jesolo. Venice is left to the tourists at night - imagine it, thousands and thousands of tourists gazing into each others eyes across restaurant tables. It's enough to make you want to jump in the canal

Tuscany - Pisa - The most famous tower in the world

Florentine proverb: "Meglio un morto a casa che un Pisano al'uschio!" ("Better a death in the family than a Pisan at the door!")

Pisan reply: "E che Dio to contenda!" ("And may god grant your wish!")

At midnight on a weekday, when most of Europe is tucked up in bed, Pisa comes alive down by the river.The students from the famous university sit on the river walls - hundreds of them - chatting, drinking, and flirting till the early hours. It is of course the famous Italian passoggiata, and in this town of ancient academia, its participants are young people who study at one of the most important universities in the world. But then students can stay up to all hours - they can miss lectures in the morning. It's the rest of Pisa that needs its sleep.

And if you come to Tuscany, you must visit Pisa. Apart from its world-famous tower, it is a beautiful city with barely a modern building amongst its twisting medieval streets. Butter-coloured stone crowns the facades of churches, cobbles cover elegant piazzas, arcades hide good shopping, and the town buzzes with the sound of tourists and students. It feels strange to look around at day-trip Pisa and to realise it was once a major power. Pisa was also the final destination for the western end of the Silk Road from China. It was a little battler of a city. It held the strategic islands of Corsica, Sardinia, and Mallorca, and, in turn, came to dominate the Mediterranean. But there were two other predatory cities that were growing into aggressive powers, Venice and Genoa, and they became, all three, bitter rivals. In 1284 Pisa was defeated in battle by the Genoese. The town remained wealthy, but it plummeted in power and had to submit to a succession of overlords like Genoa, Milan, and Florence. Pisa still had its moments. In the 16th century, for 15 years, this little city held off the combined might of Florence and France. And this is not counting all of its artistic achievements.

And in its layout, it does resemble Florence but without the crowds. It contains the major airport for Tuscany, Galileo, which has frequent buses into town that stop outside the stazione. In fact, the stazione is the true hub of Pisa. There are direct trains to the airport from the station every half an hour, but the big draw is Florence only 1 hour away. The return fare for Florence from Pisa is €8. Yes, I’ll say that again, 8€! It’s just £6.00 or $8.00, and trains leave every half an hour. Keep an eye on the timetables that are pasted onto the walls of the stazione, as there is quite a difference between the fast trains and those that stop at each station. And another tip is to make sure you activate your ticket in one of the machines dotted around the station. Failure to do this results in a nasty fine.

 Outside the stazione is the taxi rank and bus port. From here buses can be taken to Viarreggio, Lucca, and the Torre del Largo. But most tourists, clutching their little guidebooks, cross the road and head north to find The Field of Miracles. The street that stretches from the stazione to the south bank of the Arno is the Corso Italiano, a pedestrianised narrow thoroughfare that houses the best boutiques and cafés in Pisa. In fact, all human life traverses this street: students on their way to lectures, preoccupied academics on bicycles, expensively dressed women, and trendy teenagers wearing the latest label. Italians spend more of their salaries on clothes then any other European country, and it can be seen as they move around town. As we traversed, our Italian friends would periodically stop, ostensibly to look at clothes in the window, but we caught them looking at themselves.

Finally, the Corso Italiano opens out into a piazza bordering the river Arno. Here Pisa becomes epic with the wide green river stretching in either direction. The stone banks look the same as they did in medieval times, with three bridges crossing the wide river. On either bank of the Arno are some truly beautiful buildings, most of them coloured tangerine or the light brown so specific to Tuscany, their terracotta roofs sloping down, shielding shuttered windows and balconies. Romanesque churches loomed above the rooftops, and lambrettas buzzed across the Ponte di Mezzo spanning the Arno. It is when you cross this bridge that Pisa seems to work its magic. Directly across is the Piazza Garibaldi. An arcaded building in streaked green marble overlooks the cobbled piazza that contains a statue of Garibaldi himself. I thoroughly recommend thegelataria in the northwest corner - their pistachio ice cream is delicious.

From there things get confusing. The Field of Miracles is not in a straight line from the stazione; it is situated away to the northwest, as the streets of Pisa do not lead there directly. From the Piazza Garibaldi the Borgo Stretto heads northwards; after travelling along this for 10 minutes you must take a left along Via Ulisse Dini into the beautiful Piazza Cavaolari. From there take the narrow street Via dei Mille further northwest and hopefully connect up with Via Santa Maria and the Leaning Tower. You will be in the same predicament as hundreds of equally confused tourists, so my advice is to follow the herd - they may know where they are going.

 The shops are a major attraction - many of them situated in lovely arcades resembling that other stunning Italian University town, Bologna. And there are some truly beautiful set-pieces, i.e. Piazza de Cavaolari, which is one of the administrative centers of the university and is stunning (see photo). The university building is called Scuola Normale Superiore and has a set of stone steps leading up to a marble facade with shuttered windows. And between these windows is incredible ornate tracery, pictures of angels, and emblems with little marble busts perched in niches. The building was Napoleon Bonaparte’s idea. You need to pass special exams to get in and keep a high rating during the course. Another statue stands in the centre of this Piazza, this time with a drinking fountain. There are so many little exquisite piazzas in Pisa (although I must admit there is a lot of graffiti, some of it very political). One of my favorites was Piazza Dante Aligheri down by the river. The noble university building overlooked a tiny green square surrounded by palm trees.

I have a friend, Dr. Nicola Pavese, who works in London but keeps his apartment going in Pisa. And for 4 days in June, we stayed in his apartment outside the city walls on the Via Mossa (or Via Tosser as another friend called it - sorry, English joke), and from there we spread out to explore Tuscany. We were lucky enough to be shown about by his friends, and on the first night, slightly tired from the budget flight, we were taken out in a convertible sports car and spun along the cobbled streets. There we got our first snapshots of Pisa: the light reflected in the dark river, the studentpasseigetta in Piazza Garibaldi, and the famous leaning tower glowing in the darkness.

Once in a while there is a poll in the European Union: "If you were not your own nationality, which other nationality would you be?" Italian always wins; isn’t that funny?