FLASHBACK #21: Sausages At Midnight

Summer 2002 was swiftly coming to an end. By August, the evenings had already started to get darker while, strangely, the nights got warmer. We spent as many weekends as we could relaxing at the Summer Cottage. The traditional values of Bree's parents became apparent - with work to be done around the cottage, they stopped mid-morning and mid-afternoon for coffee and cake and everyone nearby was expected to attend. Cake? Sure!

The best time was when the sauna was started up in the evenings. Historical evidence shows that Finns were among the first to build wooden saunas more than 2,000 years ago. Today, the sauna is still as popular as ever and the procedure is rather simple: you drink some beer or cider, go into the sauna to sweat a bit, jump into the lake to cool down and wash off the sweat, drink some more beer or cider, go back into the sauna to sweat some more, jump back in the lake etc... You basically repeat this for as long as you want and it is very relaxing indeed.

One evening, Bree's parents went to bed early. It's difficult to explain how wonderful the Finnish Summer is. The evenings in August never get totally dark and, one evening around midnight, we grilled some sausages. I remember us sitting on the deck, eating our boiling-hot sausages while a thin line on the horizon showed what remained of the sunlight. It is funny how small, simple things can turn into lasting memories.

Although it had never been discussed, it seemed that Bree's parents accepted us as a couple. I wasn't the first boyfriend to be introduced to his parents so they knew of their son's sexual orientation. As a conservative family, however, it was just something that wasn't discussed. Part of me felt a little bit uncomfortable that his sexuality hadn't been acknowledge, but without the ability to communicate in Finnish, I certainly wasn't going to discuss the issue.

FLASHBACK #20: Helvetinjärvi And The Cuckoo

Towards the end of Summer 2002, Bree came to visit me on one of his rare visits to Tampere. He came up on the Friday night and we just relaxed. On the Saturday, however, we headed to Helvetinjärvi National Park. I had been reading about some of Finland's National Parks online and suggested that we take a picnic on a trek.

Approximately 60kms north of Tampere, the National Park covers an area of 49 sq.km and was established quite recently in 1982. The Park has attracted visitors since the 1800's and the deep gorges within were formed millions of years ago by faults in the bedrock. Our aim was to find Helvetinkolu, one of the narrowest gorges. We trekked a good twenty-odd kilometres, but never did find it. Obviously, it was too narrow to notice!

However, the weather was gorgeous and, despite the active mosquitoes biting away at our skin, we pressed on. We stopped at a picnic area near the lake and, after a brief lunch, continued along the trail. Before long, Bree told me to be quiet and listen. I couldn't hear anything so I turned up the volume on my hearing device. We waited... After nearly two minutes, standing as still as we could, I heard it. The pleasant, soothing call of a cuckoo. I had never heard a cuckoo before in my entire life and this simple experience actually turned out to be the highlight of the day!

As we headed back towards the car park, we spotted a lake nearby with a beach. It had been a hot, sweaty day in the forest so we went for a dip. It was at this time that I started to develop an appreciation for the lakes in Finland. I will always remember the warm glow of the late afternoon sun on the lovely lake of Helvetinjärvi.

Related Link: http://www.luontoon.fi/page.asp?Section=5418

FLASHBACK #19: What Comes Out Of The Water!

Shortly before or after our trip to Europe in Summer 2002, Bree and I visited his family's Summer Cottage near Lahti; I was a little bit reluctant to go there after my whiffy experience during MidSummer. When we got there, however, I met Bree's mother for the first time. As she speaks no English, Bree was on hand to translate.

The Summer Cottage is nearly 40 years old and in perfect condition, surrounded by dense forest and well maintained lawns and flowers. The cottage is reachable via a 5km dirt track so it really does feel that you miles away from anything. Sitting on Lake Kirkojävi, the cottage is barely visible to outsiders as trees line the lake edge.

Shortly after meeting Bree's Mother, she told us that his Father was in the lake so we headed down to the deck to say hello. An old balding man was swimming in the lake, approaching the deck where were standing. Nothing could have prepared me for when he got out of the lake totally stark naked. He shooked my hand enthusiastically, also unable to speak English. My boyfriend's father, nearly 70 years old, was shaking my hand and he was naked! I hid my embarrassment, but as his father return to the cottage to resume his sauna, I raised my eyebrows at Bree.

Having lived abroad in the past, Bree knew exaclty where I was coming from. I had just witnessed something you would never see in Britain. I mean, you just don't expect to shake hands with a naked pensioner, do you?! It got me thinking, though. Why are Brits so sensitive about nakedness?

Later that day, Bree and I had a sauna followed by a dip in the ice cold lake. And, yes, we were naked. After all, when in Rome....

FLASHBACK #18: European Adventure (Part 4) - Love & Hate in Berlin & The Final Days

On July 30th, 2002, we departed from Nice via the mountaneous, winding route. Knowing that we were now leaving France behind, I could now form an opinion of it. There's just something about France that doesn't appeal to me. It's not unique, there's nothing special about it and, oh, the people smell and ain't that polite! As we travelled along the hills, I had to admit that I hated france. This conclusion reminded me of an episode of Absolutely Fabulous, aptly named 'France', where Eddy and Patsy as two typical British toursits moan about the place and decide to visit a Vineyard not to taste the wine, but to get drunk on it. The hilarious part of the scene is when, inebriated, they return to their hire car and Eddy declares that 'somebody has stolen the bloody steering wheel!' Hilarious!

Anyway, by the evening, we had amazingly reached the city of Berlin in Germany. I can't remember how we get there, but I do know we were confronted with lot's of traffic jams along the way. We arrived in Berlin after 8pm and the search was on, once more, to find a hotel. We had arrived in Berlin a day earlier than we expected so we would be able to rest for two days. We parked in Potsdamer Platz and I hit the phones, trying to get through to the local tourist board. With no joy, we decided to head into the city centre and start approaching hotels for availability and prices. We found a nice hotel - I can't remember the name of it - but staying there would be quite expensive, UNLESS we could make an internet reservation and come back. What did we do? We got my free company phone, called a friend back in Finland who made the reservation, gave us the reference number and back into the hotel we went! Problem solved! We practically stayed at the four start hotel half price!

The hotel was lovely, very plush and the rooms were spacious, perfect for unloading all of our stuff to see what we had accummulated during the trip! We quickly showered, then strolled around the warm city centre. The rush hour traffic was now dying down and it was a pleasure to take in the place, getting orientated for the next days frantic sightseeting. Having spent an hour or so browsing around some nearby stores, we stopped for some dinner. Althought we had the cash to pay for the lovely Italian food we had, I was quite shocked to learn that they didn't accept Visa cards. This was the third time a place in Germany had refused a Visa card. Funny, isn't it, how Switzerland accepted only Swiss-issued cards and Germany didn't accept Visa cards? After dinner, we strolled around the city once again. By now, the streets were pretty deserted and I remember grabbing Bree's hand in mine. I pulled him towards me and gave him a kiss. He didn't pull away, simply smiling at me. It was a rare moment of affection between two men in a public place and it was then that I felt a huge surge of love for him.

The next day was a very active one. After a hearty breakfast at the hotel, we began with a bus tour where you could hop on and off for 24 hours. Donning headphones giving us a commentary of the city in English, we passed monuments such as Checkpoint Charlie (used to monitor movement between East and West Germany), the colourful cranes at Potzdamer Platz and the Reichstag. We got off the bus at the Jewish Museum and the next few hours would tug at our heart strings! It was a very emotional day, depicting the struggle of the German-Jewish people over 2,000 years. Forced to close in 1938 by the State Police, the museum is now on of the most visited museums in Berlin.

Illustrating the struggle and unfair treatment of the jewish people, you are faced with two corridors named the 'Axis of Exile' and the 'Axis of Holocaust'. The Axis of Exile is a wide corridor with exhibits on the wall, document the lives of the expelled German Jewish communities. One story told of how one lone woman travelled all over the world, changing her nationality in each country in order to 'hide' her Jewish origins. At the end of this corridor depicting such sad experiences lies the 'Garden of Exile'. Comprising of forty-eight square pillar towering twenty feet high on ground that is slanted in two different directions at the same time, the garden imbalances visitors illustrating the imbalance associated with exile, a unsettled feeling of not belonging.

Along the Axis of Holocaust, heartbreaking stories line the corridors. Exhibits contain possessions of Jews who endured the Holocaust. Among the item are a grammar school autograph book, the drawings and love letters of couples torn apart by deportation and letters from a mother who was trapped in Berlin. At the end of the corridor is the 'Holocaust Tower', a bare, narrow unheated chamber that rises as high as the building itself. Silent and unlit, except for a small hole high up, the Tower depicts the Jewish person's ability to hear the world with the individuals rights to participate removed. Two people at a time are allowed in the Tower for 90 seconds. I left the tower and shed a tear - the whole museum is an emotional experience and the Tower personifies the experience. Even though it sounds depressing, I recommend a trip to the museum. If anything, the museum teaches us how stable our lives are and you leave the place with a sense of gratefulness.

After our visit to the museum, we waited for the bus and continued the bus tour. The bus took us around the whole city which, considering it was literally levelled just sixty years ago, has made a lot of progress. Through this progress, you sense how the Germans, despite the cruel intentions of their wicked and twisted leader, are determined to move on.

Later on, we ended up in a department store, not far from the hotel. After a bit of shopping, we headed back to the hotel and decided to enjoy a swim and a sauna in the hotel. It was great to just relax for a change, with no rush to visit somewhere or track down something. After the swim, we looked through the photos taken so far during our trip. We had seen and done sooo much and it was nice to look at photos, many of which reminded us of things we had already consigned to the deepest parts of our memory.

The rest of the evening was a bit of a blur. Bree and I got into a fight and, just outside the hotel, he walked in one direction and I walked in the other. I was so pissed off, but determined to enjoy my evening so off I went. I ended up in a gay bard called 'Tom's'. I ordered my usual Bacardi and Coke and got talking to this English guy who sat down next to me. He started chatting away, relieved to find someone who spoke English. Within a minute, he had told me everything: he was English, had been living in Berlin for six months and hated it like hell. I turned to him, smiled and listened intently. I was in a gay bar for no good reason. I didn't want to meet anyone, yet this guy worse his heart on his sleeve, asking my advice. I told him to go back home, that Germany and France are two countries that I would never live in. The two nations are too dominant for us, I explained. We must have been sitting together nearly an hour when the guy said that the conversation we had was the best one he had had in six months. I told him to go home, that life is too short to live that way. He nodded. The guy wasn't hitting on me, that much was clear. He looked genuinely unhappy.

I didn't get back to the hotel until 4am the next morning. I remember singing to myself as I navigated my way through the streets. I wasn't drunk and I certainly wasn't lost - I was feeling blue, unhappy that Bree and I had fought. When I got into the hotel room, I made every effort to be quiet so that I didn't disturb Bree. I don't like bad feeling or animosity so, lying on my side, I part my arms around him, spooning tightly. He grabbed my arm and I knew then that everything would be okay. I slept.

When we woke up the next morning, we discussed our argument. It had been about a political disagreement over the Jews, a stupid thing to argue about. We agreed that we should not discuss politics anymore and the issue was handled. Over breakfast, we planned our day. We would visit the Reichstag (which was very impressive), visit what remained of the Berlin Wall (which stretched 155km and separated West from Soviet-occupied East Germany) and the Berlin Bears.



The Berlin Bears consists of a circle of 'United Buddy Bears', a symbol of tolerance and peaceful co-existence among nations. Each of the participating 125 countries has designed a bear that tells something about its home country. The collection of unique bears is located next to Brandenburg Gate, very close to the Berlin Wall. We were lucky to see this collection as the pieces were to be auctioned off in aid of UNICEF later in 2002.

In the afternoon, we checked out of the hotel and it was back in the car as we sped towards Rostok on the North coast of Germany. To cut a long story short (this story is getting long now, isn't it?!), we caught the SuperFast Ferry from Rostok which would take us to Hanko, the same dock where I had first arrived in Finland the previous November. The cruise lasted nearly 24 hours and when we were onboard, there was a sense of calm. There was nowhere to rush to. We had nearly a day on board to just chill, relax, read, chat, sleep, whatever! Bliss!

The evening went quickly with a meal in the only - and bloody expensive - restaurant on board. There was nothing else to do on this vessel so we remained in the restaurant for as long as we could, taking time to enjoy our last dinner on holiday. It was an early night for us (where could we go, after all?!).

The next day at sea was sunny and warm, despite the vessel's dash across the Baltic Sea. While Bree laid on the solid chairs on-deck, I updated my notes on the trip, sorry that the hours of our holiday were coming to a close. We finally arrived in Finland at 6pm and then began the two hour drive towards Helsinki. The mood between us over the last couple of days had been tense. Looking back, it wasn't for any good reason. We had spent the two weeks together, every moment of everyday. In hindsight, it's amazing that we didn't kill eachother considering we had known eachother little more than three months and, prior to the trip, had only seen eachother during weekends.

When we finally arrived in Helsinki, it didn't take long to unload the car. I way amazed that we survived on so little clothing considering we had travelled more than 7,000 kms! What a fantastic trip it was!

FLASHBACK #18: European Adventure (Part 3) - The Cote D'Azur

A mazingly, on the morning of Wednesday, 24th July, 2002, we managed to drag ourselves out of bed before the breakfast service ended at 10am. My eyes felt tight, my head heavy. When we left the hotel to check out the local area, I was amazed by how humid it was. Althought we were in the Mediterranean, part of me had expected that the sea would provide a cool breeze every now and then, but no. We strolled along the sea front, towards the Old Town which was buzzing with people. The Old Town was packed with loads of tourists shops selling anything from beachwear to French arts and crafts.

We headed to the promenade and noticed the Chateau which towered over the cliff. Ascending the many steps, we looked back and enjoyed the views of the Cote D'Azur. In the distance, you could see Nice Airport, its runway clearly visible, the heat emanating from it on this rather hot day. I contemplated a visit to the enticing beach, but I had burnt myself the previous day in Zermatt. Zermatt itself was now becoming yet another memory and it was hard to believe we had only been there the previous day.

I headed back to the hotel about 3pm, napping until 7pm. After that, we headed out for some dinner. By reputation, the Old Town is the place to be in the evenings so, donning smart clothes, we headed in that direction. When we arrived, there was an outdoor evening market in full swing, street performers entertaining the crowds. We found a place that sold Italian food and parked out butts! Good food, a bottle of Rose, nice climate, upbeat atmosphere and a welcome change of scenery. What more could anybody want? I was just glad that we had finally reached out final destination!

The next day, we headed towards Monaco, stopping at a place called Cap Ferrat on the way. We paid a visit to the Villa Ile de France, recommended by a friend of Bree's. The Villa is decorated with the treasures of the baronness Beatrice Ephrussi de Rothschild (1862-1934) who, inspired by her travels, created seven gardens designed around several themes, celebrating Spanish, Florentine and Japanese styles and also featuring a Rose Garden. The place has stunning gardens, from which you are afforded wonderful views along the Cote.


After lunch, we headed to Monaco, the home of the world renowned Grimaldi Family (Monaco's own royal family). The Prinicipality is littered with amazingly plush hotels, its harbour featuring luxurious yachts of immense size. We took a walk along the harbour, ending up outside the infamous Monte Carlo Casino. When we left Monaco late in the afternoon, we filled up the car with petrol before listening to some music by Madison Avenue. The scenery blended in well with the groovy beat and we pulled into a car park next to a very enticing beach where we spent a couple of hours swimming in the warm sea and enjoying the remains of the day's sun.

The next day, we visited Antibes and Cannes. The town of Antibes sits right on the sea, a town of worn terracotta. One of its star attractions is the Picasso Museum at the Chateau Grimaldi which we paid a relatively cheap entry fee to enter. Pablo Picasso spent of portion of his career on the shores of the English Rivierra. He worked at the Chateau during the Autumn of 1946 and, four months later, donated 181 drawings and paintings to the town of Antibes. I am no lover of art, but sometimes it's nice to just visit these places so that your mind has an opportunity to focus on a painting or sculpture and 'see' something different. It was nice to enter the cool interior of the museum and, fortunately, it wasn't that busy. After our visit, we drove to neighbouring Cannes, home to the internationally recognised Cannes Film Festival.

Cannes looked very similar to Nice, a nice long promenade stretching a length of beach, posh villas gracing the seatfront. We parked the car and strolled along the beach, eventually reaching the venue of the Cannes Film Festival. Walking around to the front of the venue, we noticed that the red carpet was there. Bree couldn't resist a pose and, yes, we took photos! Otherwise, Cannes wasn't overly impressive. When we returned to the car, I suggested we drive back along the way we came and see if we could find a nice beach to enjoy some of the sun. We did indeed find a nice beach, one littered with lots of noisy French families. After taking a dip in the warm sea, we enjoyed the contents of our pre-prepared picnic. By now, we were both starting to look a little bit pink, but we remained on the beach as the sun dipped, once more, towards the horizon.

When we got back to our hotel that night, we decided to track down a gay bar to be around people like ourselves. Having done some research on the internet, I found a bar about 2kms away so after a nice dinner in the centre of town (I had developed a penchant for Mozarella Salad during this trip), we walked off our dinner as we headed west. We eventually found the place and were disappointed - it was expensive to get in and buy drinks, the venue itself looked like it was the cheapest place you could possibly rent and the music was absolutely awful. That wasn't to mention the mob of french guys who had overdosed on garlic AND had forgotten to put on deodorant. Uuurggghhhh!

The night hadn't been a late one and when we woke up on the Saturday morning, we had the energy for yet another day of sightseeing. Our plan for the day was to visit the Palace of the Grimaldi's in Monaco. Seeing Monaco for the second time, I had to wonder what all the drama is about the place. Yes, it's full of rich bitches and lovely houses and awesome yachts. Yes, it's got a beautiful casino and enjoys advantageous tax breaks, but I venture this question: are the people who live here any happier than those who live in neighbouring France or Italy?

We left Monaco, venturing even further east towards Italy. Without our passports, we drove straight through the checkpoint to a place just 10km inside Italy, called Menton. I had always had an intention to sample Italian Pizza one day and, on this day, I had that chance. Yes, the pizza does taste different and, just like everyone says, it is much better and tastes 'more' than the usual varieties were are used to. Next time you go to Pizza Hut, remember this blog entry because what you're eating is completely and utter fodder! After our late lunch, we walked to a nearby market square. There were a number of trees where locals had gathered beneath to shield themselves from the sun. We browsed around the stores, eventually coming across an off license. We left the off-license with five bottles of booze, including Chivaz Whisky and Bacardi, all for less than ‚¬50! What a bargain, I thought! Once again, the day had flown by and we headed back to Nice. The traffic was heavy as motorists spilled into Nice on this wonderfully warm Saturday summernight.

Back in our hotel room, we took turns to shower and I poured us an ice cold Bacardi & Coke. We got out the map and marked all the places where we had been to. What a fantastic trip it had been and it was far from over! Until now, I had never even visited mainland Europe apart from my move to Finland. It was Saturday evening and we decided to do some evening souvenir shopping. With the huge volume of touristic t-shirts on sale, we decided to see who could buy the wackiest t-shirt for the other. As we shopped, I noticed two guys kiss each other on the other side of the street as one of them entered a buildng through a door with a neon sign above it. Taking a closer look, it materialised that this was a gay club barely 100 metres from our hotel and that we had walked 2 miles just the night before to visit what seemed, after extensive searching on the internet, to be the only gay bar in Nice!

Later in the evening, having taken our souvenirs back to the nearby hotel, we paid a visit to the club. Instantly more modern than the hell hole we had visited the night before, the same whiffs of BO and garlic filled the air as we danced to some pretty cool sounds. What is it about the French and the Spanish, refusing to use deodorant? And why can't the French tone it down on the garlic? It ain't smart and it certainly ain't attractive! We stayed at the club a few hours, taking this opportunity on our holiday to enjoy a drink and have a dance.

When I woke up on the Sunday, I was starting to feel tired from the trip. We had been so active, seeing different things all the time and the heat in France continued. I was slightly burnt by this time during the trip so we made an effort to do some indoor stuff. We drove to Grasse, perfume capital of the world, a countryside town nestling inbetween Cannes and St. Tropez. Queen Victoria vacationed here many times and Napoleon himself is known to have paid a visit. Perfume has been made in Grasse since the 16th Century so we decided to pay a visit to Fragonard, one of France's oldest perfumers. I am by no means a big fan of perfumes, or even aftershave for that matter, but it was amazing to see how much science was involved in the production of scents. Leafy hills tower above the town of Grasse and, after a wonder through it's quaint old town of 17th and 18th Century buildings, we were back in the car (which took us a while to find, as we got lost!) and on our way to St. Tropez.

The traffic towards St. Tropez was quite something - I guess people wanted to head to the famed beaches on this rather hot Sunday. Despite the hype surrounding St. Tropez as a magnet for trendy jetsetters, I have to say that the place is overrated. And my opinion of the place was not enhanced when, having laid face down for a period of time on the sandy beach, I lifted an arm to find it smothered - and stinking - of dog shit! Yikes! Who would have thought of such a thing happening in St. Tropez?! We remained on the beach, tucking into some fruit we had bought with us, watching the sun go down behind some nearby hills. When it was time to pack up, we started the long drive back to Nice. It took about and hour and a half before to get back as motorists clogged up the popular roads once more.

We got back to Nice after 9pm and took McDonalds (oh, so common!) back to our hotel room. Greasy from the sun cream and glowing from all the sun exposure, neither of us could be bothered to dress up. Instead, we downed our burgers and went out, still in our shorts, for an ice cream and a wander around Nice's surprisingly busy city centre. Nice is a nice city, but much busier than I expected it to be. Like Italian cities, the town is mobbed with cars, the air filled every now and then with the noisy drone of a distant moped! We got into bed early that night.

Today would be our last morning in Nice... After breakfast, we headed into the Old Town once more. While Bree checked out the craft stores, I assumed the role of photographer, capturing the charm of the old time. After a few hours, we headed back to the hotel, checked out and loaded our car in the nearby multi story car park. Our stay on the French Rivierra had been quite an expensive one, but some memories are worth paying for. After all, there's no such thing as a free lunch!

FLASHBACK #18: European Adventure (Part 2) - Germany, Austria, Lichtenstein, Switzerland, France

We woke up at 9am, suprisingly alert. After a fortifying breakfast of cereal, ham, cheese, sausages and bacon, we left Hamburg at 11am. As it was raining heavily, we gave a quick tour around Hamburg a miss, rejoining the E45 and heading towards Stutgart via Hanover. In a matter of minutes, we were on the infamous Autobahn and, here, the basic rule is drive as fast as you like! We zoomed along at 210km/hr which felt like some kind of hyperspeed! With the roof of the car down, the heat of the sun was barely detectable as we drove at speed, the cool air engulfing the interior of the car. I remember at one point, I had opened the large map a little bit too much and the gusts of wind completely covered me with the maps. It was actually quite funny as I battled to get the maps off me and back in their original form! The E45 was flanked with sprawling farmlands and beautiful villages.

The day's final destination was a place called Fussen, a small town in the South of Germany, just a few kilometres from the Austrian border. In Bavaria, the town's main feature is the beautiful Neuschwanstein Castle which feature in the 1968 musical 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang'. Until this day, I hadn't realised how big Germany is and the number of foreign cars zooming down the autobahn was testimony of its popularity. We cruised along Country Route Number 7 and, after much meandering through farmland and quaint villages, I noticed something in the distance. Something solid and white, resting in the hills. It was the Castle. It was the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Castle! Bree was rather amused by my excitement, but I explained again and again that it was the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang castle!

In the town, we found a hotel with a rather spacious twim room and a bathtub! Lovely! We dumped our stuff and traipsed through the deserted town hoping to find somewhere to serve us a meal at this hour. We found an Italian and had a wonderful meal, followed by a walk around the town.

After breakfast the next day, we headed straight to the ticket office at the base of the castle. After an arduous 40 minute trek up the well-paved path leading to the castle, a queue for people requiring the tour in English began to form. Our tour guide was a young German girl who spoke perfect English. She explained that building of the castle started in 1869, at the request of King Ludwig II of Bavaria. He was dethroned on June 8th, 1886, on the grounds of supposed insanity. A second attempt to arrest him was successful on June 12th. However, on the 13th day, his body and the body of his doctor were found in a lake. Suicide? Murder? Assassination? The mystery was never solved. The rooms in the castle were grand and majestic. The weather was fantastically bright and, after the tour, we headed towards a suspension bridge which offered amazing views of the castle.

We returned to Fussen by car, sent postcards home and stopped for a quick lunch. As we attempted to leave the area, we repeatedly got lost, as we didn't have a detailed enough map. In our frustration, dialogue seized completely and we ended up having our first argument! He thought he was right and I thought I was right! The atmosphere was charged for a while, but we both conceded that the maps just weren't detailed enough. Before long, having gone through an area of roadworks, we drove along some meandering mountain roads and, by doing so, were in the Austrian Tyrol.

We progressed along the E60, eventually reaching the 14km/long Arlberg Tunnel. When we reached the end of the tunnel, which seemed to feel like forever, the sunlight hit the back of our eyes and sunglasses were needed. Shortly after, we passed the exit for Klosters, where members of the British Royal Family usually go skiing. Stopping at a service area, we had a quick snack then continued along the E60, before entering Lichtenstein, about 8pm.

We passed masses of villages adorning traditional houses and ornate churches with slim, slender bell towers! Despite the constant pong of manure, the landscape conjured images of the musical, 'The Sound of Music'. Bree told me that the Hauge, which houses the European Court, was nearby. I was amazed that such a structure was built in the middle of such farmland. I questioned the validity of his statement to which he pointed out the rapidly approaching sign which read: 'Haag, 4km'. That's Haag, not Hauge, I said. He laughed, convinced that he had me fooled for a minute.

As we began our descent, you could hear the rush of a river nearby. At the bottom, the same river raged with the clearest water I had ever seen. We spent many hours in this kind of dream world, surrounded by nature. While Bree did all the driving, I was constantly pointing to things, exclaiming 'look at that!'. We saw signs for a place called Zermatt, where Bree's parents visited many years ago and decided to stop for a while and stretch our legs. Since Zermatt was a park-and-ride area, we had to abandon our car and take a fifteen minute taxi ride into the town. Dominated by the peak of Matterhorn (4,478m), Zermatt is a 'dead end' in a valley that sits just 10km from the Italian border.

As we strolled through the centre of town, we noticed what resembled some kind of terminal. We checked it out and discovered that you could take a train up to a place called Gornergrat (3,130m). It was expensive, but we did it anyway. At Gornergrat, we took loads of photos, chilled by the fresh air of the Pennine Alps. The region where we were now contained 29 mountains, nine of which feature in the list of the highest ten in Europe. I bet it was really cold in Zermatt at night and how is it that, in July, this much snow remains during the peak of the European Summer?

About 4pm, we were on our way again, back in the car and travelling through the Rhone area. We saw the signs for Evian which sits on the southern side of Lake Geneva, our destination for today's stop before heading to Nice. We were driving alongside the southern of the croissant-shaped lake when I suddenly suggested that we stop and swim in it! It was hot, we had been in the car for most of the day and it was nearly 6pm. Our swim in the lake was one of those moments where you just wanted to relax for a while and absorb as much of the view as possible. Lake Geneva is the largest freshwater lake in Western Europe, with Germany on one side and France on the other.

We grabbed a quick ice cream in a nearby outdoor cafe before continuing our drive. The fantastic weather showed no sign of wandering off - temperatures had been in the mid-20's and, so far, I have managed to avoid getting sunburnt. The traffic got quite busy as we braved the last of the rush hour traffic, but before long we were in France and Nice was 300kms away. Oh, shit, I thought! It was already nearly midnight and we had another 300kms to cover.

The journey to Nice is something I will never repeat. With no direct highway to Nice, you are forced to use a combination of dangerous mountain roads with very little - or no - lighting and non-stop toll roads. France seems to love taxing it's motorists every ten kilometres. Criminal, I thought! At times, the roads were very narrow and, in the blackness of the night, moonlight was the only source of light. I couldn't sleep, wouldn't even dare to sleep. About 2am, we were alerted by what seemed to be like someone walking down the middle of the dark road. Nearby was a car and what looked like a body on the road. I remember my heart starting to pound wildly, fearing that we had stumbled onto a scene we shouldn't have. Had someone been run over in this isolated area? A tall, lanky guy blocked the way, waving his arms in the air as he approached our vehicle. I told Bree to be careful as it might be some decoy, some plot, some crazed madman on the loose. Have I seen too many movies?! The guy started rambling in rapid French. We explained we spoke English and, in broken English, he explained that he run over a wild pig which, until he was sure was dead, he could not approach in case it attacked him. We slowly drove past the 'body' and saw what seemed like an over-sized dog quivering its late minutes away. Poor thing!

Not long after the incident with the wild pig, we approached a very remote town whose centrepiece seemed to be some kind of candle-lit medieval castle, an enticing image to stimulate our tired minds! Eventually, we left the confines of this madly constructed mountain road. To cut a long story short, we arrived in Nice about 3.30am. Only then did Bree declare that he had no idea where the hotel was. He didn't even have a map. All he had was the address of the hotel. I went nuts! Having got lost a few times, we finally arrived at our hotel about 4am! The hotel, the Best Western Hotel de la Flores, was right in the centre and our week in the French Rivierra was to be full of new experiences.

FLASHBACK #18: European Adventure (Part 1) - Sweden, Denmark, Germany

Towards the end of July, 2002, Bree and I took a trip. It wasn't just any old trip. Over a period of 14 days, we drove 7,000 kilometres around the following countries in Europe: Sweden, Denmark, Germany, Austria, Lichtenstein, Switzerland, France, Monaco and Italy. It was midday on Friday, 19th July, when I left work early and headed straight to Helsinki. We packed as much as we could into Bree's teeny weeny sports car and visited some friends of his in Turku before boarding the cruise ship that would transport us to Stockholm overnight.

During the sumptuous onboard buffet dinner onboard Silja Opera, there were two memorable experiences. One was when, while dishing up our food at the buffet line, a Swedish woman approached me, enquiring about my Cochlear Implant. She held her two year old son in her arms who was also wearing a bionic ear. We briefly compared experiences and I gave her some advice before Bree and I continued around the other buffet tables laden with delicious dishes. As we returned to our table, we started gossiping like couples do. Bree told me that the woman next to us was Russian and, after a while talking about Russians generally, the Russian woman took the opportunity to inform us that she was an English teacher. Yikes! Thank god we hadn't discussed anything too sensitive!



We docked the next morning at 7am and retrieved the car from the car deck. The streets of Stockholm were deserted on this sunny Saturday morning and, as we drove through the city which Bree had lived in for a year, I saw some similarities between Helsinki and Stockholm. So, we were in Sweden, the land that gave us ABBA, Volvo, Saab and Ikea. We made the most of the day in Stockholm, wandering around Gamla Stan (the old town) with the royal palaces and government nearby, and visiting the Vasa Museum, housing the restored wreckage of what was once considered to the mightiest warship in the world. In 1628, the Vasa's maiden voyage ended in tragedy, sinking just minutes after it's launch. The wreckage was recovered in 1961, after 333 years on the seabed.

We left Stockholm just after lunch, bound for Copenhagen some 600kms away! By 6pm, we were on the ferry, leaving Helsinborg on Sweden's west coast and cruising towards Helsingors on Denmark's east coast. After the short crossing, we were back in the car and on our way to Copenhagen. Birthplace of Hans Christian Anderrson, we had just enough time for a quick dinner in Copenhagen's Latin Quarter before tracking down an effigy of Anderrson's creation, The Little Mermaid. She sits there, alone, in Copenhagen's bay, away from the crowds, admired by passers-by!

Back in the car at 9.30pm, we navigated our way out of the largest city of the Nordic Countries. We eventually found the E20 and headed to Odense, 150kms to the west. In the meantime, I dozed off, but Bree woke me up as we crossed the huge bridge, known as the Great Belt Bridge. The largest project in Danish History, the bridge stretches nearly 7kms and, as we cruised 250m above the sea, the last remnants of sunlight left the horizon.

By midnight, we were at the German border. Our passports were not requested and we proceeded along the E45, bound for Hamburg. 150kms later, we came to a hotel just outside Hamburg. We decided to stay there overnight, finally getting into bed after 3am. I was amazed at how much had been seen and done on the first full day of our trip - we had seen Sweden and Denmark and were now in Germany! We had left Denmark, a country famous for its Lego, and were now in a country famous for mass car production, beer and autobahns. And it would be these very autobahns that would take us a long way very quickly the next day!