Bilbao's Famous Building

We visited lovely San Sebastian in Northern coastal Spain and enjoyed the tapas bar visits just like the locals. But, since we were so close to Bilbao, there was a strong magnetic attraction to drive to visit its world-famous Guggenheim museum. This is one of those cases where architecture puts a city on the world stage, just like Sydney and its Opera House.

And, in this case, the day trip was rewarding. The Guggenheim lived up to its reputation and a promenade through its galleries was a delight.



I have to say, I do find some modern art challenging. I give it respect, but sometimes want to snigger at some of the items on display. Some works appear that they have used little technique to produce and could be done by a good primary school student.

My own criteria is by asking the question, "Could I create or replicate this?". If the answer is "Yes", then I can't help but dismiss the work. But I do try to understand. We have visited London's Tate and many other galleries and there are many excellent works that provoke thought and appeal to my taste. But in the mix are others that makes me wonder that either someone is having a joke on us, or there is a mighty big con-job going on.

The problem with the arts is that there appears to be no criteria for quality. Maybe it’s the scientist in me, but some things in life seem more easily measured. The Olympic motto is Citius, Altius, Fortius, swifter, higher, stronger; each a measurable concept.

With the arts, what criteria are there for quality? Maybe a work is influential, innovative, of historical significance, or perhaps controversial. But influential or controversial, or even shocking is not sufficient to measure quality. Strangely, the controversy surrounding a painting can become part of its allure. Pollock’s Blue Poles is a must-see when it comes to town, if only to see what the fuss was about when it became a symbol of Whitlam government wastefulness.

And is there a rarity value in art? Did Picasso start producing many low-quality works in his later years, cashing in on his fame, because everyone wanted a piece of Picasso?

My own art gallery strategy is to wander through galleries and linger on works that captivate my interest - then enjoy them.


Guggenheim had a temporary exhibition of Indian artist Aanish Kapoor, and some exhibits were very appealing. The visit was memorable for us, and well worth the trip.

I wonder what artists think about the work of their peers. Are they dismissive or do they hold the work of other artists in high esteem? Did Jackson Pollock think of himself as a good artist, like Botticelli or Leonardo would regard their own talents? Were Dali or Warhol just good self-promoters? All have been influential, but perhaps only the modern artists would be described as controversial.

Top Ten Tourist Travel Tips - A list

Planning a travel itinerary involves a compromise between time and desire. We of course want to see so much while travelling, but do realise we have to temper that goal with what is achievable in the time available. Rick Steves' travel guides have been most valuable, but they are paced uncomfortably fast so that travellers following them must see the world pass in a blur. At the other extreme, I am far too impatient to spend my holidays lying on a lounge next to a pool.

Don't we love lists? Well, if not you, at least I do. Lists are always fun to arrange and prioritise some thoughts. And this year we are learning much about travelling. So, with our limited, but growing experience, here are our top ten European car travel tips. Some are not original, but we have adopted them and taken as our own.


1. Take twice as much money as you thought you'd need. Travelling is expensive!! Car travel is cheaper than public with more than two persons. I tell myself to over-ride usual reluctance to spend and just enjoy these once-in-a-lifetime experiences, even if it is costly. Just do it.
2. Carry half as much stuff. Reduce and rewear. Wash out what you have whenever you have a chance.
3. When in small towns, eat as the locals do. Spanish restaurants start serving dinner after 9.30 p.m. The French and Germans? - 8 pm. In Britain, trying to get something to eat after 7.30 means you will go hungry. Some Switzerland places close by 7.00 p.m. I think I am seeing a pattern that the hotter the climate, the later the dinner time.


4. Rest your head on fewer pillows. Cut down on the packing/unpacking and time spent getting acquainted with a new place. Make a base from which to take side trips. We think that 3 days was about right in many places to see the major sights.
5. Enjoy what is near your place. Avoid travel to far-off towns, and consider well if it is worth the trip. Our biggest mistake was to take a side trip to travel all the way from Tours to Bourges to see its famous cathedral, only to find something we could have seen back in Tours. And, to make matters worse, we ran out of time to see the cathedral of Tours anyway. The grass did not look greener that day after hours driving on a hot road.

6. Beware of trying to make transport connections that are tightly scheduled. This will guarantee to increase the stress levels when you are worrying if you will arrive on time. The travel times predicted by ViaMichellin or Google Maps consistently underestimate the actual driving time. Their estimations may be calculated by travelling at the maximum speed limits. Well, skimming along at 130 km/hr is quite a scary experience, especially on winding mountain roads. Then there are the slow trucks, caravans, wheelchairs (yes, we crawled behind a man on a wheelchair for a few km) and traffic jams that mean that getting to the next city for lunch is simply impossible. Add in a lunch and toilet break, and a supposedly 3 hour trip turns into 4½ all too easily.
7. Carry toilet paper in France. Not much fun to find out too late - twice! Enough said.
8. Don't expect the women in the group to be ready early. Mission impossible. Allow two hours to depart.

9. Try and buy local foods. Buying baguettes and fillers such as cheese and salami is much cheaper than packaged rolls. Anne also has a small steel thermos which has saved a fortune in hot drinks.
10. Lastly, if someone asks, "Can you tell me what is the best thing to do when travelling to Switzerland on a budget?", the answer is, "Don't go!". Yes, tongue-in-cheek, but we had a wonderful time there in the Lautebrunnen valley. The views are stunning - and free!

To get into the spirit of each country, we play local music on the ipod while driving. Whether it's a stereotypical accordion playing in France, or oompah in Germany, it is all fun and rather charming.

Italy: Dean Martin singing Volare or That's Amore (I can't believe I was playing my dad's music!) and Andrea Bocelli's opera.
Germany: Bouncing along to the catchy Chicken Dance Polka, 1000km Bis Zum Meer by Luxuslärm, and Nena's catchy 99 Luftballoons.
In Bayeux we listened to Bonnie Tyler's Lost in France and Edith Piaf's soulful songs.
Spain: Freddie Mercury belting out Barcelona is hard to beat, and Sarah Brightman and friend singing Amigo Para Sempre adds some spice.

So, this travelling is enlightening and we are slowly learning how to do it better.

Treading in the Footsteps of the Famous

There is something that appeals about walking in the footsteps of the famous. Somehow it is inspiring to tread the same streets walked by historical figures and try to feel their presence and try to think of the place as they would have found it.

In April we stayed in a house a mere 20 metres from the side door of Santa Croce church. We saw people queue to enter each day as we headed off to other parts of town. After 3 days, we discovered what they were visiting. Buried here are many Italian luminaries, including Michelangelo, Galileo, Marconi (radio inventor), poet Dante, philosopher Machiavelli, and Rossini (composer). And to think we almost missed it!

We have:
• walked in Florence, where Michaelangelo spent his childhood,
• strolled around Newton’s Cambridge, where he investigated light during the Great Plague years,
• wandered through Mozart’s birthplace,
• sat in Burns' rustic cottage,
• visited Stratford, the family home of playwright Shakespeare.

While visiting such places, one thought I have is: What would this person think about the effect they have had on the world? Would they be impressed with historical developments that they somehow triggered? Would they approve?

So, this week was our time to visit Arles in Provence, where Van Gogh spent the years 1888-9 and painted local scenes. It was in this town that his psychiatric condition worsened, and when he cut off his ear, it concerned local residents so much that they sought to have him certified in the local mental institution.

Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.


Today, one can take a guided walk around Arles to view the scenes of many of his paintings during this prolific time. His Starry Night over the Rhone was set here, as was his famous bridge paintings and recognisable self-portraits. One can still see the wheat fields and sunflowers in full bloom and think of his painting of scenes like these.

Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.


In the centre of old town is the Forum Place which Van Gogh painted. We dined at the Van Gogh restaurant, which today is painted in the bright yellow colours of yesteryear. The only thing missing from this enjoyable event was Don Maclean softly singing in the background.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Unfortunately, Van Gogh’s art is not found in Arles, but mostly displayed in distant Netherlands. That will have to wait a few weeks until after we travel Germany.
(p.s. My Sunflower photo has been Van Gogh-ed)

Gaudi's work is not ABC

There is a story of a traveller on an organised tour who was carefully taking notes of each place on the itinerary. The tour guide noticed that occasionally the traveller would simply record 'ABC'. When asked as to the coded meaning, the traveller replied, 'Another Bloody Church'.


Cathedrals are designed to be big... impressive... awesome. And they succeed. Designed to inspire, they are a credit to the commitment of past societies, many small, which built such amazing edificies. Most took many generations to complete and almost every city has one in a prime position. The architecture is impressive with similar designs to allow tall buildings to stay upright ... for centuries.

The development of the flying buttress was a design feature discovered by the master builders of the middle ages. Masonry has excellent compression properties, but little tensile strength. Medieval architects did not have steel to reinforce their buildings, and the flying buttress allowed the distribution of forces to the ground without tension. The Romans discovered the arch and medieval builders used this architectural development to construct their magnificent edifices. These designs allowed the buildings to be light and have sunlight enter through intricate stained glass windows. These are colourful, even if one needs binoculars to see the details.

Unfortunately, one of the signs of tiring is the feeling that we have seen another bloody church, and they begin to appear similar. Which they do. And although I have enjoyed seeing them in their settings, there is that sameness that has crept into our visits.

That was ... until Barcelona.

The Sagrada Familia is a massive structure by any benchmark. It is loud and ostentatious and it appears as if the designer aimed to out-do all competition in cathedral building.

It has a great wow-factor that brings out a reaction from all who enter. Before I visited, I thought the exterior was loud and unnecessarily excessive. Why have one tall spire, when eighteen will do the job better? Twelve for the apostles, four evangelists, Mary and the yet to be built tallest one for Jesus. It is just .. too much.

Gaudi designed his buildings in the modernista style, and this one has it all. He developed a way to remove the time-tested flying buttress, and his ideas use natural elements seen during his childhood in rural Spain.

The massive columns have been transformed into tall trees, and one looks up into a forest canopy.


We walked through a giant construction site and witnessed the building of an engineering marvel. Architects are attempting to maintain integrity with Gaudi's original design, but can now use modern materials. And like the medieval cathedrals, this one has taken so far over a century to complete. It may be finished in 20 years if all augurs well. In one poignant moment, I watched an elderly engineer being guided through the construction site by younger colleagues. They supported him as they walked down the almost-completed transept, turned him around to look up, and all marvelled at the project they were honoured to be building.


Described as God's architect by some, Gaudi's cathedral will not please everyone. But it certainly impressed me. Those stained glass windows blend the colour spectrum in ways I have never seen before. And it was magnificent. Gaudi's work has influenced many, from Gehry to Dr. Seuss. If you don't believe me, go and look up the making of The Grinch movie.

I didn't want to leave and had another look around. When a guide asked me what I thought at the end of my visit, my answer was, 'After this, I can never enjoy another cathedral again'.

I have been impressed so often this year, but the visit to Gaudi's cathedral was indeed a highlight. Wow!!

Mountain Fever

This week it is Summer time in the Alps, although the photos seem to say otherwise. We are spending a few days in Chamonix, then will cross the border into Switzerland to trek the picturesque Bernese Oberland area around Lauterbrunnen.

This week is a quieter respite from the busy cultural visits of Europe's cities. Well, at least it was planned to be quieter. Up at 5.30 a.m. to beat the crowds, we crammed into a gondola to climb to a giddying 3800 metres at Aiguille du Midi. Most of the others aboard were equipped with hiking boots with crampons, ropes, and snow clothing, and we considered if we were under-prepared. The gondola rose to a height where one is affected by altitude and climbing stairs makes the heart beat much faster than expected; a warning sign to take it easy up there.

There we were, above the clouds and looking down on the beauty of the snow-capped mountain peaks around the Chamonix valley. The views are spectacular when sitting on top of this alpine world just perfect for panoramic shots. Some visitors take the gondola across the next valley to Italy.
We had planned to take a randonnée (Notice the French accent?) around the valley rim and hike in the lower reaches, with wonderful views of the valley and peaks. The hike was to see the famous Mer de Glace (Sea of ice) glacier and take the return train from Le Montenvers back to Chamonix.

The steep valley sides have been scoured with ice and snow over millennia, leaving behind boulders and rocks strewn across the path. There are warnings of dangerous rock falls instructing hikers to avoid lingering at the most dangerous spots.


There is a well visited restaurant built next to the glacier. On the station wall is a photograph showing the Mer de Glace in 1910, with a great expanse of ice passing the restaurant and down the valley. The striking thing about the photo is comparing it to today's view of an ice-free, rocky U-shaped valley. The front of this retreating ice flow has now moved one kilometre back up the valley, and like most retreating European glaciers, provides further evidence of global warming. Maybe it's best to see these magnificent structures before humans never see them again.