A gay romp with Eva and Adolf at Berchtesgaden

Since setting foot in Berchtesgaden on Monday, we have struggled to get "Springtime for Hitler" out of our heads. When we do, our heads are filled with other songs from The Producers and before we know it we're back at Springtime again. We have sung it, we have listened to it, we have talked about it. Nothing will work. And it's a little awkward when you start randomly singing lyrics such as "don't be stupid, be a smarty. Come and join the Nazi party" out loud at Hitler's mountain retreat.

While Hitler may have taken over the region during the war, the natural beauty of the place does enough to detract your attention from the area's sinister past. Our first outing in Berchtesgaden was a boat trip on Königsee, an emerald lake surround by steep cliffs 5km south of Berchtesgaden. As Matt and and I were the last to buy our tickets and last to get on, we were separated for the first half of the trip. Unfortunately the tour guide only spoke in German and, as I was unable to translate for Matt at the other end of the boat, he stared out the window while the passengers listened and laughed away. From the audiences's reaction, the guide was hilarious. I barely got any of what he said anyway so wouldn't have been much help to Matt.

Halfway along the lake the Captain stopped the boat, walked to the middle, and played the Flüglehorn out of the window towards Echo Rock. With each phrase the captain played it repeated perfectly. It was quite enchanting. We then docked at St Bartholomä, a monastery halfway along the lake and enjoyed a warm drink inside. After a relaxing boat trip back to our car, we then headed up the mountains on our steepest drive yet to stay for the night on a little farm in Oberau, overlooking Berchtesgadenland.

The next morning we woke to a glorious day. The sun was out and it wasn't all that cold. We drove the short distance to Obersalzburg and headed up Mt Kehlstein to Eagle's Nest, Hitler's mountain retreat. Hitler was a big fan of Berchtesgaden and seized a lot of the area for his own use. In Obersalzburg Hitler built the southern headquarters of the NSDAP. It was mostly flattened following the war (only a small part now houses a museum) but Eagle's Nest was left strangely unscathed due to it's minimal association with the dictator. Eagle's Nest, called Kehlsteinhaus in German, was built for Hitler's 50th birthday in 13 months by 3000 men as a gift from the Nazi party for him to entertain dignitaries and relax. Despite all the effort, Hitler is said to have only visited 10 times with most visits lasting only 30 minutes.

The road up is a private access route and can only be done by bus. A few minutes in and it's not hard to see why. It is very steep, very windy and there is nowhere to park at the top. The bus stops right underneath a cliff, on top of which the house sits precariously on the edge. From there we walked through a long, dark and cold stone tunnel and got into an elegant brass clad lift which took us the remaining 124m and delivered us right into the house. It would have been impossible for Hitler's visitors to not be intimidated.

Before going in we set off on a walk further up the mountain. It had been snowing and the wet snow and ice meant it was slow going. Luckily there was a railing for a majority of the way so I clung quite firmly to that. The few from the top was amazing - on one side lay Berchtesgaden, the Königsee and towering German mountain ranges, and on the other Salzburg and the surrounding Austrian towns and fields. We took a few quiet moments to nestle in amongst the snow covered rocks and just sit and be still.

After the cold became too much to bear we headed inside to warm up and feed our grumbling bellies. The house is now home to a restaurant with Hitler's office serving as a store room for the cafeteria. After a while of enjoying the warmth and good food it suddenly dawned on me where we were sitting- I had completely forgotten why this building was built. We had a discussion about whether or not Hitler would have had a portrait of himself above the fireplace.

A short trip back down the mountain saw us returned to our van where we spent some time reading and relaxing with a first class view. From here we popped across the border and drove the short distance to Salzburg.

Before leaving Germany I did a bit of research into some campgrounds we could stay at and settled on the competitively cheap 'Campingplatz Nord-Sam' in the north of the town near the motorway. I directed Matt down the very narrow Samstraße, and we rounded the bend to find the campsite closed, with a makeshift fence across the entrance. A little further down the road there was a truck with a crane on it set up doing repairs to a roof. This truck was blocking the street to the point at which only very small cars could get through. The gap was far too small for us to get through and the street too narrow to do a u-turn in. Not to mention we were now blocking the street ourselves, and cars were queuing up behind us.

I jumped out of the car and signalled to the cars behind us to back up, so Matt could reverse, but they would have had to back up over 500 metres to get us out, and more cars were joining the queue.

At this point a man emerged from the reception hut at the closed campsite, who I begged in English to let us come in and turn around. He reluctantly let us in after seeing our predicament, explaining that demand was so low that he had had to close the campsite on weekdays. Matt performed an 8 point U-turn while the campsite owner directed me to a new site.

We extricated ourselves from Samstraße and arrived just in time to watch the sunset over the city from our spot at the aptly named Panorama Camping.

Bavarian Cities: München, Nürnburg and Regensberg

Rachel: The next morning we woke up to pretty miserables conditions in Munich. Thick cloud had descended on the city and it didn't get above 3 degrees all day. Nevertheless, we rugged up and trudged across the deserted stadium grounds to the train station and headed into the city.

We emerged at Marianplatz in the centre of the city. It is well known for its striking (meaning ugly) gothic style town hall with it's big clock and glockenspiel which plays 3 times a day. We walked the length of the very long mall, picking Matt up a much needed scarf along the way.

By this time we had had enough of the cold so we headed to the Hofbräuhaus, the famous beer hall in Munich. While celebrated as a famous place for Bavarians to gather, enjoy the Oompa bands, drink Hofbräu beer and eat scrumptious food, it also has a dark past of housing many meetings lead by Hitler while the NSDAP (Nazi Party) was still in its infancy.

It didn't take long for these thoughts to disappear as we finally secured a free table (the place was packed when we arrived), bounced away to the traditional Bavarian band and soaked in the jovial atmosphere. We ordered schnitzel, wurst and sauerkraut and washed it down with the establishment's most well known drink - the Hofbräu Original - that comes in a 1L stein. It's not for the faint hearted.

When we finally plucked up the courage to leave the warm and inviting hall we were met with worsening weather conditions outside. We made the decision to call it a day. It was a wise one as it started raining on our walk back from the train station to the car. That, and it was -3 degrees. Not the best sightseeing conditions.

The next day, although feeling a little guilty that we hadn't done Munich justice, we jumped on the autobahn and headed to Nürnberg, known to us as Nuremberg.

Matt: The reason we headed to Nurnberg is that it’s well known for a number of things that happened there between 1933 and 1946. Firstly, and most obviously if you look at a map of Nurnberg, was that it was chosen by Adolf Hitler as the site of the Nazi Party Rally Grounds, or Reichsparteitagsgelände in German. Most footage you’ve ever seen of massive Nazi rallies, with Hitler speaking to seemingly millions of people, or thousands of people in uniform goose-stepping past Hitler was filmed in Nurnberg on the massive 11 square kilometre complex in the South-East of the city. It was here that we headed when we arrived in Nurnberg, to the “Documentation Zentrum” (museum) inside the largest of the buildings built on the site, the Kongresshalle. Modelled after the Colosseum in Rome it was never finished, but is still an imposing structure.

The Documentation centre was an outstanding museum, telling the story of the Nazi’s rise to power out of Bavaria, of the rallies held on the site, of the “Nurnberg laws” which was really the beginning of governmental anti-semitism in Germany, and of the Nurnberg trials held after the war by the allies in which twelve Nazi party leaders were sentenced to death for war crimes and crimes against humanity - the first time that such a trial has taken place.

We moved from room to room, reading the exhibits, looking at artefacts and original documents, and watched sections of filmmaker Leni Riefenstahl’s Nazi propaganda film “Triumph of the Will”, from which most of the best-known footage of the Nazi Party rallies comes. As a side-note, Leni Riefenstahl is a very interesting person well worth reading more about - in her propaganda films she invented new techniques in filming that have been used in many, many internationally known films and sporting broadcasts ever since, and yet her involvement in the Nazi Party virtually stopped her from working ever again from the end of the war until her death in 2006. The English magazine The Economist wrote that Triumph of the Will "sealed her reputation as the greatest female filmmaker of the 20th century". All told, we spent over three hours in the museum. It was fascinating, and not just for me….

Rachel: I had a very interesting reaction to the museum, which dramatically changed as we went from room to room following the course of history. Naturally I already knew a fair bit about the war but I always find hearing and reading about it so confronting. I never fail to be shocked by the atrocities that happened. This time however, as we learnt about the rise of the Nazi Party, the increase in Hitler’s popularity, his appointment as Chancellor and his claim as Furher in the first few rooms, I felt anger. Anger like I had never experienced.

In a huff I planted myself on a chair in one of the rooms surrounded by photos and videos of Hitler’s chanting supporters and fumed. I kept asking myself over and over again how all of this was allowed to happen. Why did no one stop it in those early days? Why did these people line the streets, screaming his name? Why could no one foresee what unlimited power could do to a man? Why was there no one to say no, to keep a check on what was happening? Watching and hearing about how people rallied behind their new leader, heralding him as ‘the chosen one’ and the one who would save Germany, made me sick to the stomach.

As we were only in room number 3 of 19 I knew we were in for a long and emotional journey. It was then that Matt sat down beside me and explained how helpless the German people had felt. They had been left damaged and bankrupt from WWI and were hungry for leadership. Hungry for some direction and eager to follow anyone who promised a brighter future. There were no signs of what horrible events were to unfold. Hitler had offered them hope. I can understand how important that is. My anger slowly began to subside and I prepared myself for the rest of our visit.

The next rooms concentrated on the Nurnberg Rallies and the successful propaganda campaigns. Here I felt awe - Hitler and his team would have thrived in the showbiz industry. Following this were the concentration camps and Holocaust. Tears flowed as I read, not for the first time, just how many lives were lost and effected. The visit ended with the Nurnberg trials where we could actually watch the footage of the trials. Here I felt that justice had, in some small way, been done and a relief that people were finally being held accountable for the role they played. Talk about an emotional day!

Matt: After the documentation centre, we took a bike ride around the rally grounds. Most of the infrastructure that was built during the 1930’s was destroyed during the war, blown up by the Allies afterwards or demolished in the years since, but the area most in-tact (after the Kongresshalle) is the Zeppelin Field, where many of the rallies took place. It’s most famous for being the site of Nazi architect Albert Speer’s “Cathedral of Light” - a lighting design technique where hundreds of spotlights are placed around a field and pointed directly upwards to simulate walls of light, creating a massive, imaginary building. If you ever watch Triumph of the Will, you’ll see that the effect is very, very intimidating. Those Nazis sure did know how to make scary happen. The Zeppelin Field is also famous in historical documentaries for footage taken by American troops of them blowing up the massive Swastika built on the roof.

When we arrived at the Zeppelin Field we discovered it looks a lot different to the way it did in the 1930’s. The field itself has been converted into several football pitches (it’s very big) and the road across the front has been converted into the starting line for the annual Norisring motorsport race. People now sit and watch the race on the stands that Hitler and other Nazi officials used to make speeches to the tens of thousands of people who attended the rallies. It’s come a long way since “The Cathedral of Light”.

It was getting dark by the time we left the Zeppelin Field, so we rode back to our car and drove to a campsite at an indoor tennis hall a few kilometres down the road. It was a cold night, but we kept the heater on, and woke up perky and ready to head to Regensberg.

Rachel: A short autobahn trip later and we were pulling into a camping park right on the river in Regensberg. It was Friday morning and we were staying for the weekend to visit Mirja, my friend Marni's host sister in Dachau when my German class went on exchange in 2004. Mirja was also Veri's best friend so I spent a lot of time with her while I was in Germany. Mirja now lives in Regensberg while she is studying medicine.

Matt and I unloaded the bikes and rode for 10 minutes along the Danube river to Mirja's apartment. Mirja then took us on a walking tour of the old city, the majority of which is pedestrian only. It is a beautiful place and the streets were surprisingly busy with many people out and about.

That night we enjoyed a meal in at Mirja's and wonderful conversation. It was so great to catch up and just chat. At around 10:30 we went to ride home and discovered that somebody had stolen the lights on our bikes. We dismissed the idea of taking the dark river route and stuck to the footpaths along well lit streets. Luckily we had brought our rain jackets which block the wind as it was 0 degrees out. I couldn't feel my fingers by the time we got back despite them being protected by my Florentine gloves (which have had quite the workout so far!).

We spent a quiet Saturday morning at the campsite and were visited by Mirja after she finished work at 2. We unhooked the van and drove to Walhalla, a giant Partheon like looking building built by King Ludwig I high on a hill in the middle of nowhere overlooking the Danube. It was such a strange sight and seemed so out of place. We took the opportunity to soak up the sun and sat on the giant steps and chatted for ages.

After munching down another delish home cooked meal at Mirja’s, we headed out for a night on the town in Regensberg. We settled into a cosy table at a bar and chatted with Mirja, one of her housemates and two of her friends. It was pretty much the same as back home, including Jet and many recognisable others blasting through the speakers, except for the growing pile of coats on the coat rack and the sever lack of ‘classy’ girls dressed up in the tiniest dresses they can find. We caught the last bus back to the campsite and, thanks to the cheap cocktails, had a wonderfully deep sleep.

The next day Mirja popped by the campsite again and we drove the van out to Kelheim. There we met up with her boyfriend Matthias (who lives in Kelheim) and we set off on a picturesque 5km walk. Our first stint was an uphill climb to the Befreiungshalle, another colossal monument built by King Ludwig I in the middle of nowhere. From there we hiked through the woods and emerged on the northern side of the Danube. A short boat crossing later for a meagre 1 euro each saw us on the other side at Kloster Weltenberg, Bavaria’s oldest monastery (620AD) and the oldest monastery brewery in the world, operating since 1050. We settled ourselves into a table in the beer garden and had a wonderful lunch. I had roast pork (with crackling!) for the first time in three months and almost died!

Feeling a tad sleepy from the walk, a full tummy and sitting in the warm sun we caught a boat back along the Danube, through a beautiful gorge, and arrived back at Kelheim. There we said goodbye to Mirja and Matthias, and hit the road. We made it to the lakeside town of Prien am Chiemsee and settled down in a free Stellplatz at the local boat club.

And that’s it for our epic post on our time in Bavarian cities.

Bavarian Towns: Sulzemoos, Einsbach and Dachau

Matt: In order to find places to park our motorhome we have been using a series of books which list places that allow motorhomes to park overnight. While in France, Italy, Switzerland and Austria we had books in English, the only book for Germany is in German.

On Sunday as we were heading to Einsbach, we were delighted to find in our book one that was free (kostenlos) and had free electricity (strom). It was a motorhome dealership in nearby Sulzemoos, and on arrival it did as promised and provided free parking and electricity for the night. Many other motorhomers were parked up inside the massive dealership (one of the largest in Germany) and so we parked, plugged in and had a lovely night's sleep.

The next day, after shopping for groceries and running some errands in nearby Dachau (Rachel successfully bought an iPhone SIM card speaking only German to the cashier - it was very impressive), we returned to the dealership to find no one parked there. It was only 2pm, so we assumed nobody else had arrived yet, and proceeded to buy some supplies (including a super warm doona) and exchange a gas bottle at the dealership.

Afterwards, we headed back to our camping spot from the previous night and parked. There was still nobody else there. Assuming it was just a quiet night we grabbed our books and read for a couple of hours.

At 7pm sharp, the motorhome dealership closed and locked the gates. We were locked in, parked in amongst hundreds of motorhomes for sale. Nobody else had arrived and parked for the night. It was just us. The gate hadn't been locked the night before. It was at this point we realised we were in the wrong place.

We nervously watched as the dealership employees drove past us, opened the gate, drove through and locked it again. There was no way we could sneak through without having to have a confusing conversation in German, and try and explain why we were parked inside their private dealership. Rachel's German is good, but not quite up to telling this whole story to a confused and possibly angry motorhome salesman.

We slept fitfully that night, with all the blinds and shutters closed, and using as little light as possible so as not to arouse suspicion. After dark I connected up the power, but it had been switched off.

Just before 7am we woke to find the gate still closed. Soon afterwards we peeked through the window again and saw a man open it, drive in and leave it open.

We made a break for it. Still in pyjamas, we tossed our dishes in the sink, grabbed the electrical cord and started the car. I tried to drive as though I was supposed to be there, like I was following an instruction to move the black motorhome up to the showroom, and drove out the gates.

Nobody followed us. Nobody asked us any questions or looked twice at the black van driving away at 7am. They were probably watching us from inside thinking "Ja, ve got anuzzer one! It is so funny ven zey run avay like zat!"

Rachel: On Tuesday, after finally being freed from our motorhome prison in nearby Sulzemoos, we travelled to Einsbach. In 2004, while studying German in year 11 at school, I lived in the little town of Einsbach near Dachau for one month over Easter. The Hainzinger family were my gracious hosts and I attended school in Dachau with Veri, my host sister. I returned home somewhat heavier (thanks to all those pretzels, Easter eggs, sausages and cheese sandwiches) and an affinity for German beer. Oh and I was a little better at speaking German too. Later in July, Veri came to Australia for one month and the exchange was complete.

When I knew we were travelling to Germany I got in touch with Veri and arranged to catch up. We went to Veri's new flat in Einsbach for breakfast. Despite having been seven years since I last saw her she hadn't changed a bit but we had a lot of catching up to do. In a bizarre consequence, Veri has also finished her law degree (she's just completing her compulsory legal training by working for the State of Bavaria) and even has the exact same car as me.

After a delicious breakfast with her and her boyfriend Ingoll, Veri took Matt and I into Dachau where we wandered about the castle and it's gardens and enjoyed lunch outside in the sun. It was wonderful to be able to chat and relax. We then went back to Veri's and walked to the other side of Einsbach to Veri's parents house. It was quite a surreal experience as everything was EXACTLY the same, including her parents. Even her younger sister who was 9 when I visited and is now 16 looked the same, only taller. Veri's dad is still the mayor of Einsbach and a few of the surrounding villages (including Sulzemoos).

We enjoyed a traditional Bavarian dinner of Weisswurst (white veal sausages) and Leberkase (a meatloaf of liver and cheese), both of which are delicious. We washed it down with some good ol' German beer.

Veri's parents don't speak much English so Matt sat there sipping his drinks (which Veri's father was all too keen to keep refilling) while Veri or I translated for him. He would occasionally tell a story or ask a question in English or even say a few words in German. I was so surprised at how much I could still say and understand considering I haven't spoken it since finishing year 12 six years ago.

We said our goodbyes and drove to Munich where we spent the night in a Stellplatz at Allianz Arena, a big stadium on the outskirts of the city where they let motorhomes stay when there isn't a game on.

Zugspitz and mad King Ludwig.

From sunny warm Venice we travelled to Austria via the Brennan Pass. In the few hours of driving we never left our car and were shocked to be welcomed by chilly 5 degree weather when we finally opened the doors at the border. Talk about a shock to the system!

We settled down for the evening in Hall in Tirol, only 5 minutes from Innsbruck, at a closed caravan park for only €7.50 put into an 'honesty box'. Staying overnight is going to become a lot cheaper now that we have left Italy with Austria and Germany littered with cheap Stellplatz to stay the night in. We've been told that Eastern Europe is the same. This is especially the case now that we are out of the summer season with the caravan parks closing (although they often allow you to stay in their carparks with electricity) and the tourist routes becoming quieter.

After a cold night (I slept in thermals, woolen socks and a beanie) we climbed our way over the picturesque Bavarian Alps and into Germany. Our first stop was the skiing town of Garmish-Partenkirchen, once two towns but joined together by Hitler for the Winter Olympics in 1935. GP is situated right under Zugspitz, Germany's highest mountain. It's name translates to Train Peak and that's literally what it is, you catch a train to the top. In 1928 it took the Germans only two years to build a train line, half of it tunnel, to the Zugspitz Glacier 2588 meters above sea level. A cable car takes you the final distance. It is a remarkable piece of engineering. It's worth reading about in Wikipedia if you're interested.

My grandad visited Zugspitz over 60 years ago and has shown me photos of him at the summit. Ever since this trip was mentioned to him he has recommended that we take the same journey. That was more than enough convincing for me and Matt and I donned our warmest gear and bought two tickets for the hour and 15 minute cog wheel train trip to the top.

The English brochure we got with our tickets was full of such wonderful language and promised such a wonderful time that I have included some excerpts here.

"Bayerische Zugspitzbahn Bergbahn AG and it's staff bid you a heart felt welcome. We hope you'll remain with fond memories of our region and come again. There is so much to do here:
- the Summit Adventure Trail leads you to amazing sights as well as curious, interesting and spectacular experiences.
- the AlpspiX Viewing Platform may leave you feeling elated or with butterflies in your stomach. Either way you're sure to be amazed.
- the Pleasure Adventure Trail is a rewarding experience for all your senses: taste, smell, touch and see at the beautifully designed recreation stops.
- Just imagine going up the mountain at the crack of dawn and enjoying the panorama of majestic peaks in beautiful solitude.
- the diversity of it's different mountain world has always made the Zugspitz region a favorite meeting point for all kinds of mountain enthusiasts in the summer.
- Wank, the panoramic mountain: the Wank is a highly popular mountain where outdoor cinema takes on a whole new meaning. You'll be overwhelmed by the stunning, all round views.
- with an altitude of 2962m, the Zugspitz is Germany's highest mountain. It offers the kind of experience which become enduring memories."

This trip had a lot to live up to! Luckily, the train trip was beautiful. We passed green fields with cows, little Bavarian villages and a sparkling lake of the most exquisite colour. Then the train changed tracks and we began a steep ascent to the top. It was slow going and, I don't know what kind of angle we were on, but it was incredibly hard to stand up without falling over and almost impossible to walk up the aisle.

You disembark the train and emerge from the underground station right onto a GIANT glacier that is covered in snow, several chair lifts and ski runs. Although the ski season hasn't started yet (and skiing is forbidden) there was about as much snow as covers our slopes in the middle of winter back home. After a deliciously filling schnitzel for lunch, we grabbed some of the free toboggans and took a few runs down some slopes. My first go was quite funny, I was overtaken by savvy 5 year olds as I hung on for dear life and tried to work out how to steer.

Once I got the hang of it it was exhilarating, although the steep walk back up the hill was exhausting.

We then caught the short cable car to the summit. Zugspitz is right on the border of Germany and Austria (although the highest point is on German soil) and the top platform straddles both countries, meaning we popped briefly back into Austria. The brochure was right, the experience will become an enduring memory.

After slowly chugging back down the mountain, we drove to Füssen. Although also in Germany and not that far from GP, the best way to get there is via Austria. The drive was spectacular. We skirted around the base of mountains on roads lined with trees, the orange, yellow and red autumn leaves glowing in the late afternoon sun.

After a night in Füssen we drove the 5km to Hohenschwangau and joined the throng of cars piling into several large carparks. We were all there for one reason. The story begins like a fairytale.

Once upon a time a crazy man, let's call him King Ludwig II (because that was his name) was the king of Bavaria. He was a romantic at heart so set about designing and building his dream castle high on a rock in the Bavarian Alps. He hired a set designer to design the castle (Kings don't need architects apparently) and in 1869 construction began.

The castle was, in all respects, a little odd and purely for show. Not to mention expensive! The King's bedroom alone took 3 woodcarvers 3 years full-time just to complete. The castle is full of hidden doors which look like walls but surprisingly open to reveal another room. Ludwig was also an avid fan of the composer Richard Wagner and each room is dedicated to one of Wagner's operas with scenes painted on the walls and ceilings (which too were done by set painters). Wagner never set foot in the castle (probably after hearing about the King's stalker ways). The King was also very fond of swans and as such they are everywhere- painted on the walls, crafted into door handles, made into taps and turned into sculptures. The most peculiar aspect of the castle however is the grotto, a manmade cave equipped with a waterfall that leads off from the King's office on the 4th floor. I thinks that enough evidence to suggest that this is no ordinary castle.

When the government got wind of the incredulous expense that Ludwig was going to just to build the castle (he also had another two under construction elsewhere) they declared that they had had enough of the King, his money spending ways and his constant distractions. They sat him down, had him declared mentally ill and removed his powers.

The day after, the King and his doctor took a walk by a lake and never returned. Their bodies were found in shallow water. Whether it was murder or suicide, we shall never know. Needless to say the controversy surrounding the mystery is still discussed today.

Ludwig only spent 117 days in residence in his dream castle. After his death, his family ceased construction of the castle to save money, leaving the castle only one third complete. While the story might not have a fairytale ending for poor old Ludwig, there is a silver lining. Only 6 weeks after his death, the incomplete castle was opened to the public and remains as such to this day. It is because of this that Matt and I were able to visit Neuschwanstein.

Venice

Venice is a city that quite frankly just shouldn't exist. Built on a total of 117 small islands the only ways to get around are via boat or on foot. Needless to say, Venice is 'too good' for our motorhome so we stayed only a 5 minute bus ride away in Mestre on the mainland. The campsite was our favourite yet. It had just been completely renovated and was offering 4 nights for the price of 3 so we happily stayed for 4, leaving us three full days to explore Venice.

After our first bus ride in we queued to buy a 3 day transport ticket for the vaporetto (water bus) which allowed us to catch as many boats as we wanted. We humorously waited in line for over ten minutes while the non-Italian and non-English speaker in front of us tried to convey to the assistant that he wanted his twenty €50 notes changed into two €500 notes. He was very resolute and just wouldn't budge or take back the money which the assistant was holding until he got what he wanted. The young man behind the counter eventually realised what he wanted (which was still a mystery to all of us watching) and we clapped the assistant as the old man walked away, a toothless smile on his face.

Only 5 minutes later as we were heading to a boat I saw the same man emerge from the bank with a giant stack of €50 notes. Roughly €1000 worth I would estimate. Matt and my brain went into overdrive. Our conclusion- he just changed counterfeit €50s for two €500s at the unsuspecting ticket office and then waltzed into the bank and changed the real €500s back into €50s thereby making an easy €1000 profit. By the time we had solved the mystery the man had disappeared into the crowd.

Anyway, our detective stint over, we jumped onto a boat. It is an absolute must to buy an unlimited ticket like this and allows you to easily get around the city and take in the sites. It's amazing how efficient they are. The driver
quickly pulls into the 'bus stop', the assistant loops a rope onto the floating pier, people pile off, more people pile on, the rope is undone and away we go. The whole process couldn't take more than a minute. It's very different to catching boats back home. I suppose it's just a way of life here.

We wouldn't really plan our days. We would just jump on boats and pop off when we felt like it, either rejoining where we got off or walking to somewhere new. In our three days we travelled down the Grand Canal several times, the main waterway which basically cuts Venice in half, and under it's three bridges- the Ferrovia, the Rialto and the Accadamia. Once we did this during the night and it was simply magical to watch the lights shimmer and dance on the water. We also took a day time trip around the outside of Venice which stops at some of the outer islands and gives you some perspective of Venice's size. From the water it all just looks like an elaborate set, painted flats with nothing behind them.

Only by exploring Venice by foot do you truly appreciate what is behind the water front. This is where the magic really starts. I asked Amber if there was anything she would recommend us to do in Venice, having recently been there. She had only one suggestion - just wander around and get lost.

We happily took her advice, ditching our map and just turning down alleys and crossing bridges as we followed our noses. I felt like I was in a movie as we zigzagged our way across the city.

Early on we stumbled on "the most beautiful bookshop in the world", as declared by the cardboard sign out the front. And when we got inside we realised the sign was 100% correct. The place was jam packed with old and new books of every shape and size. We found the English section and set about picking some good reading material which we had been sorely missing. We were met with the most bizarre selection of books. Obviously the good books don't last long and those remaining on the shelves had clearly been there for years, if not decades. Some of our favourite titles included:
- Guinness World Records 2000
- How to Meditate
- The Voyages of Columbus
- How to Teach the Piano
- The First Weeks of Life
- The Bible as History
- Rock Forming Minerals
- Adobe Photoshop Lightroom 2: How To
- Trees of Europe
- The History of the Postal Service in England and Ireland

We set off happily with 5 books, unfortunately none with the titles above. Our new acquisitions pretty much set the tone for our time in Venice. When we had tired of wandering or boating we would settle down in a nice spot and pull out our books. It was wonderful!

Our wandering also took us to more of the popular tourist areas and we spent time in San Marco Piazza chasing the pigeons and gazing upon the church, taking in the view of the city and surrounding islands from the San Marco Belltower, marveling at the intricate masks on sale in every second shop and locally made glass in every other and watching the boats and gondalas weave in and out of each other from Rialto Bridge.

On one of the days we arrived at San Marco Square and realised that we left our camera's memory card at home. At that moment we were very glad to be at one of he world's top tourist attractions, and walked across the square to one of the many camera shops and picked up a replacement for €12.

On another occasion we were window shopping and came across a shop selling elaborately designed and somewhat racist chess sets. Our favorite had English soldiers on the white side and Zulu tribesmen on the black side. In awe of the piece I snapped a pic and was met with a very angry shop woman asking me "Who allow you? Who allow you?". We apologised and hurried away. I figure if you're going to stock blatantly racist products, you can't really get angry at people taking photos of them.

Our three days in Venice were glorious and a great ending to our time in Italy.

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Eating gelato in San Gimignano

We spent Saturday and Sunday night at a quiet Aree di Sosta just under the hilltop town of San Gimignano. We had been feeling a little blergh recently, and not enjoying Italy as much as our previous countries, so decided to just stop for two days and do not much at all in order to recharge our batteries. Thankfully for you, dear reader, that makes for a very short post.

On Saturday we left Florence in the afternoon and took the day to do some chores- washing, cleaning the camper van, shopping and stocking up on toilet chemicals. The not so fancy and normal aspects of a trip like ours. San Gimignano was only half an hour away so it was an easy drive, although a terribly bumpy road.

On Sunday we took advantage of the free shuttle bus that runs directly from the campsite up the hill to the town. This is quite a cool concept when you remember that Aree di Sosta's are council run.

San Gimignano is quite a striking town. Perched on top of a hill, it once had 71 towers rising high into the sky but these days only 14 remain. I can imagine it would have looked much like an ancient version of New York. These days it is heavily focused on tourism (Lonely Planet says it's the best Tuscsn town to visit) with a constant stream of busloads of people tramping up and down the tiny streets. The locals have risen to the occassion and the streets are lined with galleries, souvenir shops, restaurants and specialty stores and the squares full of markets. We spent a few good hours wandering around the town, buying some Tuscan pottery, eating gelato (at the shop of the 2006/7 and 2008/9 World Gelato Champions), and being hassled by a 12 year old talking to us about Oxfam in his best attempt at English.

The rain from two days earlier had brought with it a cool change and it has been remarkably colder ever since the downpour. Our time in San Gimignano was our coldest yet. We've even had to resort to turning on our gas heating system for the first time (which we didn't even do in the Alps) and busting out the thermals to keep us toasty warm at night.

That evening back at our campsite we watched as a van pulled in next to us. It too was a McRent Campervan and the exact same make and model as ours, only a different colour. I looked at the numberplate and saw that it too was from Friedberg, the town where we had picked up ours. We watched as a young red head got out of the passenger seat (I kid you not) and helped the driver reverse into the spot - "you're crooked", she said in an unmistakable accent. "They're Australian!" Matt and I exclaimed in unison.

We popped out to say hello and learnt that our new neighbours, Kirrilly and Steven, were from the Northern Beaches of Sydney, had picked up their van from Friedberg a few days after us and were travelling for 3 months. We stood around chatting about the motorhome lifestyle, where we'd been and where we going and exchanged stories about our adventures. They have had a few issues with their van (flat tyre but no tool to get the spare down, a water tank that leaks into the cab and an accident that tore off the wing mirror) which makes me think how blessed we've been that we've had no problems.

Three hours of standing outside talking later, we realised it was now alomost 9pm, dark, cold and that nobody had eaten. We retreated to our respective vans for dinner and, at their invitation, popped over to 'their place' for some UNO and more chatting. Being in thier van was a very twilight zone experience. It was EXACTLY like ours, much like being in identical apartments, just with different shoes under the table and a different bed spread. These are the first people we have properly talked to in person since the UK, other than each other of course, and it was great! We didn't leave til after midnight (how's that for an early night Paul!).

The next day we lazed around the campsite, said goodbye to our new friends, and hit the road. Destination: Venice. See, told you it would be short.

Florence

Florence, or Firenze in Italian, was our next destination after Rome. Thanks to the lovely J.K Rowling I just couldn't stop thinking about centaurs every time we passed a sign showing us the way on the motorway.

Just like in Rome and like Venice to come, we had to fork out a hefty sum in order to stay at a caravan park close to the city instead of a much cheaper Aree di Sosta. Well, hefty when you have a motorhome, cheap compared to accommodation. Matt and I have discovered we much prefer the simpler (and cheaper) option and find we enjoy our time more when we are staying in secluded rural spots with fewer luxuries and people. That said, our campsite was a great place to spend three nights and a perfect base from which to explore the city. It is set in a heritage listed olive grove perched high on a hill next to Piazalle Michelangelo and offers amazing views of the city. Everyday we would enjoy a morning coffee at the site's cafe and watch the city below while we planned our day.

Our two days spent in Florence itself were very laid back and mainly revolved around eating and walking off what we had eaten. Oh and a view arty things too. We would stop at Piazalle Michelangelo on the way in to admire the panoramic views of the city, which were strangely different every time we passed, and the bronze copy of Michelangelo's David. From there it was a steep descent down to the banks of the Arno River. At the end of the day we would drag our feet and full tummies up the same steps and pause once again to take in the sight of the sprawling city below with it's iconic Duomo standing guard at the centre.

On Thursday our wandering took us first across the Ponte Vecchio, one of only three bridges in the world to have shops on either side. If you didn't know what it was you could possibly emerge on the other side unaware that you had just crossed water. Built in 1345 it originally housed blacksmiths and butchers who would throw their waste into the river, but since the 16th century it has been lined with jewellers in an attempt to clean up the city. It apparently worked and the crooked and crumbling buildings are still dominated by the fancy wares. When the Germans were retreating from Italy in 1944 this is the only bridge they left unscathed as thankfully they recognised its historical importance.

We continued on and found ourselves in the Piazza Della Signoria, a large and vibrant public square off the Palazzo Vecchio (the city palace). Standing guard at the palace entrance is the city's second copy of David, a marble version, standing in the exact place the original David stood for hundreds of years. It was moved to the purpose built Accademia after the weather and a bench thrown out the palace window by the Medici family left the poor hero a little worse for wear, the latter knocking off his arm. The square also houses numerous other well known sculptures and it was a delightful place to sit, enjoy a scrumptious lunch and watch the world pass us by.

Next on our list was the city's main attraction: the Duomo. With it's distinct pink, white and green marble exterior and its enormous dome, the church makes for an impressive sight. It's impossible to take a decent photo as the church is way too big for the square it is squeezed into, much like the effect the Italian food is having on our ability to fit into our jeans. There was a heavy haze sitting over the city affecting visibility so we thought we would postpone going up the dome and see what the following day would bring.

I must admit, all the churches we have visited are starting to blend into each other, save for the striking Sagrada Familia, and it is becoming more difficult to be impressed. I don't think there are too many churches left on our itinerary though. We seem to have ticked off all the big ones: Westminster Abbey, St Paul's Cathedral, Salisbury Cathedral, Yorkminster, Notre Dame, Sagrada Familiar, St Peter's Basilica and now Florence's Duomo.

Matt and I were very much enjoying our day of simple sight seeing so continued to meander through the city, strolling next through the bustling tightly packed San Lorenzo markets, which boasts dozens of stores selling Italian leather goods. I picked up a pair of gloves after successfully haggling for a better price. After an afternoon treat of gelato we headed back to camp for a quiet evening.

On Friday we woke to the sound of rain for only the second time on our trip. Not bad odds really. After chatting to the Aspinalls and Joey back at home, we waited for a lull in the rain and headed to reception to buy some bus tickets into town. As luck would have it, it was Florence's turn for a transport strike so we unwillingly trudged into town, our spirits dampened somewhat.

First on our list that day was a lunch of fine Italian food. That morning my sisters had been quite insistent that we go to 'Cafe ZaZa' and try their fettucini in a creamy truffle sauce. I mentioned the slight problem of me being gluten intolerant and suddenly Amber's entire face filled the screen, "I cried Rachel, I actually cried that's how good it is" she protested. Pushing Amber out of the way Melanie added flippantly, "it doesn't matter if it makes you sick. It's worth it!!" And who said my sisters weren't dramatic!

Scared of the punishment of reneging on my promise of trying the pasta we settled ourself into a seat at the cosy cafe, glad to be inside out of the cold wind. With slight hesitation and a concerned look from Matt, I ordered as my sisters had insisted. I then proceeded to eat a bowl of pasta, my first in 20 months. In my sisters' defence it was delicious and possibly the best pasta I've had (though that could also be explained by having been deprived of one of my favourite dishes for so long). It was such a simple dish and the amount of creamy truffle sauce was the perfect amount for the home made fresh fettucini. Too little would have meant dry and chewy mouthfuls, too much would have been overbearingly rich and dominated the meal. It was perfect. The most amazing this is it did not make me feel sick or cause any side effects at all. It's settled, I'm moving to Italy.

Tummies satisfied we headed next to the Accademia to see Michelangelo's original David. Sculpted from a single block of marble discarded in the Duomo's courtyard, Michelangelo has indeed created a masterpiece. Towering 6 meters high, David is a vision of strength, power and innocence. The attention to detail is like no other sculpture we have seen (and we've seen a lot!) and he must be viewed from all sides to be truly appreciated. Such simple things as the protruding veins in his hands, the tendon at the back of his bent knee, and the muscles in his raised shoulder bring David to life.

It is forbidden to take photos of the statue, even with the flash off. While they argue that this is "to preserve the statue", Matt is convinced it's so you buy photos from the gift shop- "he sat outside for hundreds of years and now he's in a carefully controlled room. I think photos are fine," Matt commented. Standing watch in the room was an evil woman who would pounce on people yelling "no photos!" as loudly as she could, the ferocity of which would cause everyone to stop and stare and the guilty party to sheepishly apologise and put the camera away. Often they hadn't realised you couldn't take photos as the sign is quite hidden - most likely by the Nazi guard so she can have the pleasure of informing innocent people herself. This women was so dedicated to her job that if she suspected someone had taken a sneaky pic and they denied it, she would demand to see their last picture and ask them to leave if they had lied. I wasn't far off with my Nazi reference.

Matt and I, (I don't know whether you're aware of this, but we're badasses) managed to successfully take several photos without being detected. I had the camera casually hanging around my next resting on my stomach (none of this looking through the view finder business) and, when I thought the angle was correct, I would just click the button and cough to disguise the sound while Matt kept watch. It felt like we were blowing spitballs behind the teacher's back. We waltzed through the gift shop, untempted by the paraphernalia, while tourists handed over their euros to purchase a lasting memory of their visit.

The rain continued to fall and, not convinced a climb of the Duomo would be worth it in the rain, we ate more gelato and headed home for another early night. We're not that upset we missed the Duomo as we've enjoyed great views of the city everyday and climbed St Peter's Basilica dome not that long ago. Plus my poor legs can probably do without the 463 step climb. We'll put it on the 'next time' list.

By the next morning the rain had stopped. The haze across the city had lifted and Florence appeared even more spectacular in the valley below.
We said goodbye to the pleasant town and headed half an hour south to San Gimignano for a few quiet days in the Tuscan sun...

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Driving and parking the motorhome

A video of two of the more interesting roads we've driven on and of us parking the motorhome. We know you all have short attention spans so it's in fast motion.

Our map so far

A map of our path so far. We just tipped over 8,500 km.

View Europe - our path in a larger map

Ancient Rome

After our draining day at the Vatican, we expected to have an equally busy and frantic experience exploring Rome's ancient sites. Thankfully we were pleasantly surprised and had a stress free day in the old city.

With the transport system back to normal we easily made our way into the city and emerged at Colosseo Station. As the name suggests, we were close to the Colosseum and were shocked to see it towering right across the road from the station entrance. Talk about a great first impression! After a short and shady queue (although once again there were dozens of people offering deals where we could skip the queue) we had our tickets and audio guides and were ready to step back in time.

Everything about this stadium is fascinating. Built in 80BC the fact that it has survived for 2000 years speaks volumes about the Romans knowledge and perfection of construction. The architect, who to this day remains unknown, thought of everything, from tiered hierarchy seating, movable awnings to protect spectators from sun and rain, an elaborate system of pulleys and trap doors to move set pieces and a service ramp to quickly dispose of the deceased.

Although it is in a significant state of ruin, thanks to looting after it fell into disuse (some marble was even removed to build St Peter's Basilica) and the effect of two centuries of braving the weather, it is not difficult to fill in the pieces and imagine the stadium in all it's glory. In its hey day the stand was packed with a 40,000 to 70,000 strong crowd (it's capacity is still debated) ranging from the Emperor to the lowest servant, who were all there free of charge to be entertained. It played host to a range of events from Gladiator battles, where death was a high possibility, to live animal hunts, featuring lions, tigers and complicated sets. For the spectators, the more blood the better.

After a decent time spent wandering around and marvelling at this site we stepped out of our time capsule and back into reality to enjoy a typical Italian lunch across the road.

The afternoon that followed was one of the best times we have had in Italy, mainly because it involved just wandering around at our own pace and absorbing the best Rome has to offer.

We started with a stroll through the very dramatic and evocative ruins of the Palentino and the Roman Forum. The hot sun was beating down quite ferociously so we found a shady spot on the side of a hill to take it all in. Luckily there is not shortage of places to sit- fallen pillars, marble blocks and collapsed walls make for great seats. From here we could see no less than 4 ruined temples, what was left of the Roman Forum, ancient statue lined streets and the remnants of buildings.

We let our imagination take over, recreating the streets and buildings in our minds, which was quite easy thanks to Assassins Creed. This is quite surprising to hear me say, but at that moment I wished we had access to a PlayStation so we could scale the buildings, jump from roof to roof and kill some of those pesky Borgia Guards. What has Matt done to me?

After a quick tram ride and a brief walk we found ourselves in Piazza Navona, a shady square surrounded by bustling restaurants and filled with markets. We grabbed some gelato, found a seat and just absorbed our surroundings. It was remarkably relaxing.

Full of gelatoey goodness, we wound our way through the narrow streets and came face to face with the Pantheon and its unmistakable facade. You could walk right in without queueing and, thanks to it's circular interior, you could see everything by sitting in the one spot. It, like the Colosseum, was built over 2000 years ago, but is in perfect condition and is still used today, as it has been in constant use since being taken over by the Catholic Church. Its most eye catching feature is the domed roof with its uncovered oculus which lets in water when it rains and allows the sun the stream in on sunny days like the one we had.

Our next stop was the Trevi Fountain which dominates the square it is found in, making it impossible to capture it in one photo. It is already a small place but the hundreds of people who were packed into the place made for a very claustrophobic experience. Grabbing a coin each, Matt and I threw them into the fountain, an act (if legend is to be believed) which means we will return to Rome one day. The money is collected every day and given to charity.

Our final destination for the day was the Spanish Steps. The sun was setting, lighting the city on fire, and Matt blinded himself taking photos of the the city's skyline and St Peter's Basilica. It was the perfect end to a wonderful day, though Matt's eyes would disagree.

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Vatican City

Vatican City is a deceptively large place. The world's smallest country takes a lot more effort to visit than its 0.44 km 2 area indicates.

Rome, however is deceptively small. The former capital of the western world is not a sprawling megalopolis, but a quaint town of 3 million people. Surprisingly, it’s significantly dwarfed by London, Paris, Barcelona and even Milan to the North. Subsequently, it has only two metro lines, neither of which run particularly close to the Vatican or our campsite.

So we set off to catch the bus (a bad move). Anticipating a light walking day, Rachel wore strappy sandals and I wore jeans (two bad moves). Italy is notorious for strikes, and it was the Roman transport industry’s turn, so catching the bus was made more complicated. (I’m writing this in Florence, where there is another transport strike today)

This strike was not a complete system shutdown, but meant that the buses would be running much less frequently. Fortunately our bus arrived promptly, and we caught it to Cipro-Musei Vaticani station. This name is a bit of a misnomer because the station is over a kilometre away from the Museum.

Once we arrived at the city walls (we weren’t sure where we were going so we followed a German tour group) we discovered that there was no way of crossing the city inside the walls, and the only way to get our museum tickets from the ticket office near St. Peter’s Square was to walk half-way around the star-shaped perimeter of the city.

Lonely Planet had warned us to watch out for pickpockets and fake tour guides offering to help us “cut the queue” around the Vatican and Colosseum, and it was a sound warning. Lots of people with strong American accents were very keen to help us jump the long queue. As we’d already paid for our tickets at the campsite, it was easy to avoid the temptation.

After a walk of over a kilometre we arrived at St Peter’s Square. It was astonishing. While it was smaller than I expected from seeing it on TV and in movies, it seemed quiet and empty. It’s probably the only square on the Italian peninsular without any shops, apartments or street vendors on the sides, just Bernini’s columns on each side, two fountains, an obelisk and the enormous St Peter’s Basilica towering above. This gives you the impression that you’re almost alone in the square. It’s very peaceful. The only thing that hints at how many people can fit in the square was thousands of chairs still set up for the previous day’s Papal message. Every Sunday at noon, Pope Benedict XVI gives a message in the square. From the amount of chairs still set out (a group of men were cleaning them up as we watched) I’m guessing the message is pretty popular.

After a moment in the square, we crossed the border back into Italy to the ticket office.

At 11am sharp we followed a lady from the ticket office in a group of around 50 people for a kilometre back to the museum entrance. The large group and the population of street vendors on the way meant that we got to the entrance at 11:30. By this stage our feet already hurt. (Damn those strappy sandals)

Inside the foyer of the museum it was pandemonium. Tour groups were so packed in that they were overlapping, so many people were trying to bustle through the ticket gates that you couldn't see them, and so many people were pushing onto the single escalator that it broke.

After walking up a 4 story wheelchair ramp (the escalator was closed by the time we got to it), we had arrived.

The organisation of the Vatican City is such that one of the major draw cards, the Sistine Chapel, is not part of the Basilica but part of the museum. Subsequently, anybody who wants to see the Chapel has to go through the museum first. The Chapel is almost the last thing before the exit.

I think the best way to describe the Vatican Museum is to point out that it occupies a quarter of a country. It’s huge. It’s probably the largest collection of unlabelled sculptures, tapestries and frescoes in the world. The audio guide is adequate, but the map provided is not. This means that you’re often left listening to an audio commentary on a room that you can’t find.

Lonely Planet has a suggested itinerary for the museum, but in practice there seems to be little choice as to which way you go. The layout is essentially a series of long corridors that you go through in succession to get to the Sistine Chapel. Subsequently, any time you stop to admire an artwork, you’re almost stampeded by a tour group headed straight for the main attraction. There’s nowhere to sit or eat for most of the museum, and nowhere to go to the bathroom until the very end.

Three hours later, tired, grumpy and sore, we were at the door of the Sistine Chapel.

The Chapel is indescribable, but I’ll try anyway. The floorspace (poor thing, nobody ever talks about the floor of the Sistine Chapel) is about as wide as a basketball court and a little longer than one. The structure is more like a large barn than a church, and the light is dim, due to the small windows. The building is relatively bland, really, as you can see when you look at it from the outside, so it’s no surprise that the Pope was keen on having it decorated.

I imagine the moment that the Pope asked Michelangelo to paint the ceiling was a lot like the moment Antoni Gaudi was hired to design the Sagrada Familiar in Barcelona - he had no idea what he was getting himself in for.

Michelangelo worked for many years, primarily on his own, to paint the Pope’s Chapel (as it’s sometimes known). The Pope must have found it quite frustrating to come down there for a quiet prayer and find it full of scaffolding with Michelangelo clambering around up the top.

It’s strange to look up at some of the world’s most recognisable artworks all on the same surface. The ‘Creation of Adam’ is the centrepiece of Michelangelo’s miraculous comic strip detailing the Book of Genesis, from the creation of the earth to the great flood and Noah’s Ark via the Garden of Eden and the Original Sin.

Years after finishing the ceiling, Michelangelo returned to paint ‘The Last Judgement’ above the altar. In the process he blocked up several windows and painted over other people’s paintings. It’s probably the most beautiful, intricate and terrifying image I’ve ever seen. It depicts Christ (with a body very similar to Adam in ‘Creation of Adam’, drawing the righteous up to heaven with one hand and casting the sinners down to hell with the other. Michelangelo included a self portrait in this image, as the flayed skin of a dead man on the way to hell. He had some issues methinks…

The room was full. It’s hard to estimate how many people were in there, because it was difficult to move, but it was certainly far more than the three guards left there to keep the peace could handle. A sign on the door demands silence and no photos, but neither instruction was being followed. Everyone (including us) was taking photos, and talking as loud as they wanted. At one point, one of the guards, sick of shushing everyone, decided to start a kindergarten-teacher-style clap pattern to shut the crowd up. I was very tempted to repeat his pattern after a beat, but restrained myself.

We stayed a while, but not nearly long enough to look at the detail of either the ceiling or ‘The Last Judgement’. Perhaps we’ll be back some day, and the crowd will be smaller, and we’ll be wearing better shoes. It’s also not easy looking up at the ceiling for any long period of time. Rachel’s solution is for everyone to have a nice lie down and look at the ceiling. We left the museum at 3:30pm after resisting the urge to pick up a Pope action figure in the gift shop.

We were keen on climbing St Peter’s Basilica dome, which shuts at 5pm in October, so we trudged as fast as we could, once again, outside the city walls, to St Peter’s Square.

The Square was bathed in mid-afternoon light, which streamed through the fountains and made the water splashing down the tiers look like crystals. It was entrancing, and a beautiful sight as we made our way through Basilica security (I think they were checking for antimatter).

Inside the Basilica, we joined another queue for the dome. By this time our feet were aching (damn cobblestones), and the hot Roman sun was making me seriously regret wearing heavy jeans. The queue was 40 minutes long. There were no chairs to sit on, or even hand rails to lean on. At 4:45, we caught the lift to the base of the dome, and made our way up the 320 steps to the top.

Climbing a dome is rather an odd experience. The walls of the stairway gradually get more and more curved until you realise you have to use your hands to keep yourself from falling against the inside wall.

At the summit, we saw Rome. European cities are very different to Australian or American ones. While we equate a big capital city with skyscrapers and neon signs, European cities are much flatter. St Peter’s Basilica towers above all the buildings around it, and the only buildings you can’t see over are the ones on hills. It’s the same in London, Paris, and Barcelona. While from the Empire State Building it’s hard to see Central Park, from St Peter’s you can see the Colosseum, the domes of all the city’s churches and sprawling parkland on almost all sides.

While we were up there, I’m pretty sure I saw Bill Gates. He was speaking German the whole time I was stalking him, and using an iPhone, but I’m pretty sure it was just an elaborate disguise.

We climbed back down the dome and into the Basilica. It’s a lot like the museum. Enormous and impressive, but with nowhere to sit. To give you an idea of the size of the world’s second largest church, there was a mass going on with several hundred people in the congregation - and they were hard to find in amongst the cavernous chapels and transepts. If not for the singing, it’s possible you wouldn’t notice they were there. The church can seat 60,000 people.

Tired, sore and desperate for a sit down, we left the church at 6pm and headed back to the spot where we got off the bus. We crossed the road, hoping to get catch it in the opposite direction, and couldn't find the bus stop. Once we found a bus stop, we discovered that our bus didn’t stop there. This is one of the many disadvantages of buses when compared to trams or trains… train lines, tram tracks and overhead power lines are rather easier to find than a tiny number on a sign.

An hour later we were sitting on the ground under a bridge 2 kilometres away from where we got off the bus that morning next to a bus stop sign with the right number on it, but of course it was a transport strike, and the buses weren’t running to their normal schedule.

It was at this point we decided we were staying in proper countries from now on.

A hazy lake and a leaning tower

Our first experience of an Italian road, other than the motorway, was on Thursday on the winding narrow path that follows the western shore of Lake Como. Calling it a path is even generous. It is such a crazy drive that it is the location for the opening scene of Quantum of Solace where James Bond is involved in a thrilling car chase. We often had to stop or reverse to allow an oncoming car to pass and were stuck for quite some time behind a large truck while a few other oncoming trucks squeezed past us. Unlike Bond's Aston Martin, our trusty van remained unscathed.

Lake Como is shaped like an upside down Y and its shores are dotted with villages. We chose Domaso, a town near the very top, as our resting spot for the night. While Lonely Planet describes the lake as a must see for its natural beauty, a walk along the foreshore left us a little disappointed. The bright sun washed everything out and the mountains, which should have been visible rising steeply around the lake, were obscured by a thick white haze.

The next morning we drove down the eastern side of the lake which was a much more pleasant trip, thanks to the dual carriageway. It was a big day of driving and after passing through Milan and Genova we were once again traveling along the Mediterranean. We pulled off at Pisa and headed straight to the coast and a new Aire (called Aree de Sostas in Italy) at Marina di Pisa.

Although it was 5pm it was still quite hot so, after going through the routine of setting up our home for the night (which we can now practically do with our eyes closed) we jumped on our bikes and rode to the beach for our first swim in the refreshing waters of the Mediterranean. The setting sun cast a gold and pink glow over the steep white stone beach and although picture perfect, proved very difficult to walk on with bare feet. We shuffled our way, one painful step at a time, into the sea. Time seemed to stop still.

The next morning we got away early and were standing in Piazza del Duomo in Pisa by 10am. In front of us loomed three large structures- the Cathedral, the Baptistery and the Tower. Pisa would be a very different place if this third structure didn't exist and the buzzing crowd around us would be virtually non-existent. I am of course referring to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. And boy is the name apt!

It was a glorious day for a visit. The three white pieces of architectural beauty were enhanced by the vivid blue cloudless sky and the sparkling green grass and seemed to leap out at you no matter what angle you looked at them from. Everywhere around us people were positioning themselves for the classic "holding up the tower" photo. Not wanting to be an outcast I joined in. Matt on the other hand had his photo taken pushing it down. He always was a bit of a rebel.

From here we had another big drive down the coast to Rome, taking a few sightseeing detours along the way. Although not far away from Pisa, we decided we'll see Florence on the way back up to break up the drive to Venice.

So here we are in Rome at a great and huge campsite on one of the main roads into the city- Via Aurelia. This place also is kind of like a hostel and has heaps of dormitories on the other side of the park. Needless to say the place is packed with young Aussies, Germans and school groups. The campsite also has great facilities such as a pool, supermarket, restaurant, bar, club (for all those cool kids out there), an information desk selling tickets to everything and providing advice, free and frustrating wifi and a bus stop into town right at the gate.

On Sunday we had a rest day after a few big days of driving and just hung around the campsite swimming, catching up on news back home and reading up on the truckload of things to do in Rome. The saying is quite stupid really. Rome couldn't possibly have been built in one day. To suggest otherwise is ludicrous.

Switzerland in 5 days

Our experience of Switzerland, a small country of 7.8 million people, is of towering mountains, serene lakes mountains and scenic views. We also found it incredibly, incredibly expensive so we limited our stay to 5 days. It is ranked the third most expensive country to live in in the world and third best for quality of life. Apparently money does buy you happiness here.

As it is not a member of the EU, its currency is the Swiss Franc although everywhere we have been, including a restaurant, camp ground and camping supply store, have taken our Euros meaning we didn't even need to withdraw any local currency.

After spending Saturday night in a campsite right on Lake Geneva, on Sunday we parked our car by the lake 4km from the city, hopped on our bikes and rode along the (flat!) bike track around the lake, past parkland and marinas, towards the city.

On the way we passed the Geneva Fountain, which shoots water at a speed of 200km/hr 135m into the air. At any one time there is 7000L of water in the air. It originally operated to release pressure from the hydroelectric dam but now it is purely decorative.

We made it to the city centre and, much to our surprise, it was completely dead and deserted. All the shops (soooooooooooo many watch shops), including many restaurants, were closed. Not even souvenir shops or a corner store were open. Apparently nothing happens in Geneva on a Sunday. It did however make for great cycling conditions and we could easily ride around on the main roads and tram tracks and over bridges with no worries, only having to stop for cars on a few occasions. After a good cycling tour of this strange city we made our way back round the lake to our campsite and enjoyed an afternoon of ping pong and relaxing in chairs by the water as the sun set.

The next morning, Monday, we set out on a mission to majorly stock up on food. We had tried the day before but even the supermarkets were closed on the Sunday. None of the shops we came across could accommodate our van to park and, before we knew it, we were crossing the border back into France. Here we were spoilt for choice and we chose a large Carrefour to stock up on supplies. Upon entering Switzerland again border control asked where we'd come from. "We were in Geneva this morning but just drove to France to shop..." I casually stated.

We skirted around the northern side of the lake and settled down late in the afternoon at a delightful Aire in St Leonards, a quaint town situated in the Rhone Valley between Sierre and Sion. Nestled between houses this spot had everything we could hope for: shady trees, electricity, toilets, a beautiful picnic area for us to enjoy happy hour and a first class view of the vine covered steep mountains.

St Leonards is also home to Europe's largest underground lake, Lac Souterrain, and on Tuesday morning we walked the 100m to the entrance and took a half hour boat ride into the dark depths of the cave. The guide amazingly gave the tour in French, German and English and would have happily have added Italian if required. The lake was only discovered relatively recently when a not uncommon earthquake (they have 4 or 5 a week in Switzerland under 2.5 on the richter scale) opened up the entrance. The main message of the tour was to "think about the water" and the impact that climate change is having on the glaciers and the environment in Switzerland. Switzerland itself has reduced it's impact on the Earth and is run by 60% water power and 40% nuclear power and operates trams and electric trolley buses in it's largest cities.

The rest of the day saw us continue up the Rhone Valley as we headed to Luzern. We had opted for the scenic route, as opposed to the motorways and tunnels that plough through the mountains, and wound our way through some spectacular scenery. This was a motorbikers heaven and streams of them would zip past us as we zigzagged up and down the sides of mountains, often right on the edge with little or no barrier. Matt's driving was superb! Alpine villages were dotted along the route and the air rang with the ding donging of the cow bells as they munched away on the grass.

Soon enough, after several stops to take in the view along the way, we found ourself following the shore of Lake Luzern as we made our way to the city. Matt was keen to visit as Nanna often talks about how much she enjoyed her time in Luzern when she was there many years ago. We settled into a campsite on the lake and stayed for two nights.

On Wednesday Matt and I split up for the very first time on our trip. I stayed back at the campsite to read and take it easy as I wasn't feeling 100% and Matt, after much insisting by me that I would be fine on my own, went to the Switzerland Transport Museum next to the campsite. He came back with a huge grin on his face and immediately began retelling what he had seen, with accompanying photos and videos of course. Matt's going to write about his visit but hasn't yet so he'll add it here later.

That afternoon Matt and I hopped on our bikes and rode, once again, around a flat lake to the city. There we visited the Dying Lion of Luzern, walked across the flower covered Chapel Bridge, wandered down the cobbled streets of the old city and watched life pass us by in a cafe by the river. We've noticed that the mountains and lakes are rather hazy, especially in Switzerland, so sadly the mountains surrounding Lake Luzern were mostly invisible.

Thursday morning we set off and travelled south towards Italy. Crossing even the smallest part of Switzerland involves crossing mountains however this time we opted for the easy way out, using motorways and an epic 19km tunnel to spit us out on the other side. Before we knew it we were at border control. Cars everywhere in their lanes were being stopped and questioned but, as no one approached us in our special motorhome lane, we continued driving, hoping no sirens would follow us.

So now we are in Italy: the land of crazy drivers and food Rachel can't eat.