30 July 2012 - Bridge of Earn

G again.

28 July we stayed at Mansfield Castle Hotel. Stephen had booked this before leaving NZ, thinking I would be due a wee bit of luxury after travelling for 3 days over one way roads in the extreme north of Scotland. We found the hotel in Tain without too much difficulty – from the gate way it was imposing with 16^th and 17^th century architecture.

As we drove up the sweeping drive we encountered the pot holes that are a feature of all Scottish roads, be they lowlands or highlands, main roads or one way roads. We chuckled and came to a halt in a weedy court yard – nothing daunted, we leapt from our car and up the steps to the entry.

I noticed a pot valiantly growing a couple of small polyanthus alongside a sizeable prickle and beside the imposing doorways a tub of healthy grass!

And so began our Fawlty Towers type experience.

This facility has all the elegance of a bygone age with fascinating features to attract guests. However distant glimmers do not always mean you have struck gold. I did something at the end of our stay I have never done before. I asked for a feed back form. The receptionist who was obviously of European origin had no idea what I meant – then began a translation exercise – I finally received 3 blank A4 pages. She must have worked out I had a lot to say!! True.

Below I have edited what I handed in , addressed to the management.

During our stay we noticed

• Upon entry to our room an over-powering aroma of air freshener. Having located the device we turned it off and the “smell” retreated.
• Upon needing more fresh air I tried to further open the sash window. I found it was resting upon a teacup. Removing the cup the window dropped onto my arm – bruising resulted. There is no way of properly using this window as it won't stay open with out the tea cup.
• Bathroom window also has a broken sash cord and couldn't stay open.
• We slept without ventilation that night.
• There is no room for a second bedside light.
• There is no table to use for reading or writing in the room.
• There was no hot water for shower in the evening or this morning. This despite there being a large bathroom with jacuzzi ( when Stephen tried to use this device despite tepid water the air vent wouldn't open!!! )
• While he was wrestling with the air vent Stephen saw the underside of soap dish over the bath has a build-up of grime and mould!!!
• The appearance of hotel over all is of “shabby elegance”. While the staircase is stunning fittings in the public areas and the antique furniture are immaculate the tartan carpet in the dining room is ill fitting around one edge of the dance area.This is a health and safety risk. As is the large split and jagged edge in the wooden seat of the park bench outside the entry.
• Tiny details these maybe but the following examples indicate a lack of care and attention which in turn reflects on management and staff concern for their guests.
  • on our way to our bedroom we noticed a rent in the lace curtains covering one of the windows in the hall way.
  • The paper on the walls of our bedroom was peeling in places.
  • 2 missing candles from the 6 stem candelabra in the entrance hall
  • When my husband first arrived the receptionist “got lost” taking him to our room
  • Help with our luggage would have been welcome as there is no lift .
  • Towels in the bedroom are well worn and beds covered with air cell blankets – these were a favourite in the 19700s.

Finally the food

• Dinner was adequate, typical of pub-style fare.
• A digestive gap between courses would have been welcome.
• As dining is a la carte advice at the time the menu is offered of availability of dishes is preferable to leaving guests to make their selection then announcing that dishes were finished when orders were being taken.

Breakfast

• Breakfast was from 7.30 – 9.30 am.We arrived just before 9:00. Finally at 9:15 we were asked if we wanted a hot drink. By that time it was evident that there was only 1 dish of fruit left – prunes. The menu described 4 types of fruit.
• There were no croissants or rolls evident – both listed on the menu.I was advised they had finished. Would I like toast?When I said I would prefer a roll the waitress went to ask. No I was told. They had been busy and its the end of the week. They had run out.
• Toast it is. Stephen decided to have a continental style breakfast also. He couldn't face the inevitable “we have run out' We were served 2 pieces of sandwich sliced toast. When I asked it we could have another 2 slices the response was that only the heel of the loaf was available. I declined!

These are a few of the food fusses – I won't go on anymore – picture is pretty clear.

I concluded my rant this : Mansfield Castle and Hotel could offer a unique experience for guests while retaining its cost effective modus vivendi. As it stands currently I cannot recommend friends and acquaintances stay here.

We then travelled on and arrived here in Bridge of Earn on 29^th.

It is a hotel in a pub, south of Perth – we selected it as we are mid way between Arbroath Abbey, Dunfermline, Stirling and Scone. This is called The Last Cast and it is delightful fresh, clean, well appointed accommodation. No windows rattle in the wind, attention to detail is delightful – even a port-a-cot folded up in the wardrobe. I write at a table which folds away – no need to use public areas or the bed! Dinner 100 yards away at the local restaurant was delicious and beautifully presented – with a 25% discount on the bill due to staying at Last Cast. The bed, pillows and duvet all in as new condition - fresh, soft and sweet smelling, hot water on tap day and night, freshly cooked breakfast delivered soon after placing our order – sharp contrast with the tired Mansfield castle and for less than half the price.

Today it is back on the path of Robert The Bruce. Scone first where he was crowned by Isabel Mac Duff – who paid sorely for her endeavours, poor lady. Thence to Arbroath where the Declaration of Arbroath was written and sent to the Pope. A powerfully written document, believed to have been written by Bernard of Kilwinning – a protege of Bruce's and a man of acute acumen and political savvy.

28 July 2012 – Tain

The last 2 days have been fascinating as we drove up the North West coast of Scotland from Skye. The landscape to start with was dramatic with glacial scoured valleys and lakes. Gradually the hills reduced in height, the lakes get more numerous and smaller and the landscape is more and more bare rock covered in places with a thin green layer. The hills are hard rock still scraped clean by the ice layer during the ice age and the only sign of life is where moss has accumulated on ledges forming a layer of soil. It is a magnificent and barren landscape and it is amazing that there has been continual human habitation for 4000 years.

 The remains of the Mcleod's castle

 

A view down one of the inlets we passed

The weather hasn't helped with low cloud and occasional rain hiding the higher hills, but even so it is impressive with the hints of hillsides disappearing up into the clouds. Most of the coastline is steep down to the water with occasional shingle beaches, often covered with seaweed. However across the north coast there are some stunning sandy beaches between the cliffs, one of which is apparently used for international surfing contests in winter. Although it is the middle of summer there is no-one on the beaches and most people are wearing coats.

Shingle beach at Ardarnoch

Beach near Durness in the North

We arrived in Tain to find our accommodation tending towards Fawlty Towers. It is a country house that has been converted into a hotel and now epitomises “faded elegance”. From the potholes in the long drive, the wooden outdoor furniture sagging and fragile, the carpet frayed at the edges, the window sash cords broken, the spa bath with the air vent jammed shut, the hot water never getting above lukewarm and the sad choice of fading floral wallpaper. However the scale of the building, the magnificent staircase leading up from the lobby and the labyrinth of passages leading to the rooms lend a grand air.

Mansfield Castle Hotel

To top it off we arrived down for breakfast half an hour before the finish time to be told they were out of rolls, croissants, ham and only toast was available. When the toast arrived it was 2 slices of sandwich bread and apparently was the end of the last loaf. Being Sunday they “couldn't run down to the corner store”. It is such a contrast to the high standards and lavish breakfasts that we have experienced to date throughout the trip.

To be fair the building is imposing with elegantly furnished public rooms and beautiful panelling and a large lawn between the gates and the hotel with a fountain and pond. The rooms are spacious and reasonably well finished, but with a little attention to details and a few fixes the hotel would be superb – it is such a shame to see the property downgraded by such second class management.

26 July 2012 - Isle of Skye

Yesterday was the drive up from the Scottish Borders to Skye - very pleasant and again I was struck with the magnificent crags around Glencoe.  Our accommodation was found easily and proved to be a modern house right at the top of the beach with wading birds just outside the window.

Today we toured the island which has a mixture of dramatic hills, shear sea-cliffs and a scattering of settlements over an area of around 200 square miles.  A lot of the land is low grass with low scrub or tussock, but we did come across some forestry.  Generally the land is rocky with a very small soil covering with a few peat bogs.  The roads have been greatly improved over the last few years and this was definitely needed from the examples of the old roads we saw. 

Tomorrow we head north up the west coast.

23 July 2012 - Glenholm


Gillian's Bruce Journey

Today finally arrived – awaited with pleasurable anticipation. We began to explore places where Robert the Bruce aka RB (of the Norman family, de Brus who came to England with William the Conqueror 1066) lived and 'worked'! The day dawned wet, misty but a balmy 16 degrees – great temperature for this time of year we were told but sorry about the rain! We have heard this ' sorry about the weather' several times today from Scots!

Off we went first to Loch Maben castle where Bruce may have been born and certainly where is family had their ancestral home. We found the ruins and plaques which told us that this site was actually built by Edward I in 1300s ( in stone I gather)and then fought over for the next hundred years or so by the English and Scots, each vying to hold this important site. It is a pretty place, on a peninsula that juts out into the lake but... is not the Bruce pile! So we retreated out of the wind and drizzle and mist into the car and drove to the golf course in Lochmaben town where we saw where the Bruces actually had their motte and wooden bailey castle. No sign of any castle now but interesting to see this site. They had come to Lochmaben as, after having been given the Annandale lands and built a castle in Annan by a grateful Willie the Conq - for the support and endeavours of the original de Brus, they were soon flooded and they left to settle in the drier option of Lochmaben. News to me. So once more we left the drizzly site for the dry car and motored down south to Annan. There we went into the museum and found that the castle there had been a motte and bailey affair – of course – and sited by the river. By this time Stephen was becoming immersed in the history and made the connection that from these Bruces probably came the family of his paternal grand mother – Susan Bruce. ( having seen her photo my mother declared she was 'The Beautiful Susan” and decided that Stephen looked just like her!!!) I have been telling him I was sure there was link there ever since I started reading up on RB.... So much tallied in my mind – despite the huge time since 1274 (DOB RB)

Statue of Robert in Lochmaben

OK – from small Annan museum I beat a hasty path to cafe and loo in that order – we had a bite to eat and a coffee. Some amusing anecdotes followed – will only cite the one as to do more could be construed that I am being unkind – which I don't want to be. So – I ordered the soup of the day – was told it was lentil. Good. I like lentil soup. When it arrived I found it to be a yummy, thick soup of potato, carrot, a little cabbage and a few small pieces of ham!!! I am now searching the cottage for a dictionary to check the meaning of lentil before I ask our Scottish hostesses why her delicious lentil soup had no potatoes in it!

Lunch break over we found the car and set off for the Bruce castle site in Annan. Following our instincts we ended up at the docks – in a derelict area surrounded by brick buildings with no roofs – this is not it obviously. Back up then was in order – and soon 2 nice big lads in fluoro coloured vests took my eye. Stephen manfully stopped the vehicle, leapt out and went to ask directions – to save me from the rain he said!!! 

Some time later – after much manly dialogue, while the wind whipped at his trousers and the rain fell, and loud Scottish sounding noises rent the air , Stephen returned smiling smugly and we drove straight to the place. 

Hmmm – a car park and a sports centre occupy the area directly beneath the motte and bailey – pretty impressive height to the area actually. There is a path for people to walk up to where motte and bailey existed – well annotated by a plaque in the car park but it was still dribbling rain and I absconded to the car – requesting Stephen to drive up along beside the path instead. Actually, the whole site is tree clad – which I think is great – so there wouldn't have been much to see. At the far end, where the motte was there is a house – otherwise the site remains as a park.

So where to now? Dumfries! Where our lad stabbed John Comyn and his mate Kilpatrick finished him off – they then took Dumfries castle – by surprise - acting very quickly , and the die was caste for RB. He had no choice – grab the kingship or flee the country.

Further travel on these appallingly surfaced and drained Scottish roads and we were in Dumfries. Following my instinct we found the Greyfriars Kirk that replaced the original abbey. We parked and plodded along the street to the steps of the Kirk – crossed the road and found the plaque on a shop wall that recorded that this was the place RB had stabbed the Red Comyn and that Kilpatrick, had hot footed it saying “I mak siccar' ( I will make sure” ) 

I did know that the abbey and monastery where these events occurred had been removed and a kirk had been built in the area. I also knew that the castle no longer existed. I also knew there was a plaque and where the plaque was situated … However the knowing and the seeing are quite different! 

To read this plaque meant edging in amongst lots of people waiting for their bus and having a good old natter with their friends, a quiet smoke and a not so quiet scream at a stroppy child - as buses and cars went about their usual 21^st century business. Not quite the moment in the abbey, looking at the alter where the deed had been committed that I had anticipated. Message being … don't rely too much on the comprehension strategy of visualisation. I shall be sharing this one with my colleagues when I return!

Plaque in Dumfries, behind a bus stop and on the wall of a discount shop

What a day – not quite as I expected but – as always we have seen and learnt so much more than we thought we knew.

I now have a schema for where the events occurred. I also have an image of these very flat, lush borderlands – so close to the sea and obviously so desirable to the English .

This shire of Dumfries is from where our Caldwell family left to go to Northern Ireland when William and Mary of Orange were on the throne. It is good to have seen this land and it is a very good land if somewhat wet!

So – with a knowledge now of where we lived I am ready to move on to the highlands.

15 July 2012 - Prague

I see this has appeared out of sequence - not a big issue.

Today we took a tour of the city starting at Wencelaus Square, though it's hardly a square being a wide boulevard 1km long and it's outside the Old City. The old part of town is divided into 4 regions - Old Town, New Town, Lesser Town and Castle Town, the last 2 on the south side of the river.  Each town had its own square and town hall and there was also a Jewish Town Hall in the Old Town. The tour went through all 4 with a walk through the castle.

In Castle Town all the palaces and houses of the nobility were nationalized in 1918 during the formation of the republic and are still in state ownership being used as government offices.  We detected a degree of resignation in our guides tone when talking about the current administration - e.g. a stadium that has been closed for 10 years for some reason that has never been divulged.  Any mention of communism was bitter.  A statue made up of people reducing in substance to illustrate the effect of communism was pointed out.

A statue on the effects of communism on the population

The castle itself is in great condition, being used as the seat of government, hence there are no interesting old nooks and crannies or ornate rooms full of old stuff.  It feels more like a series of 19th century office blocks with sentries at the gates.  We watched the changing of the guard at one gate - the usual marionette style of movement with goose stepping soldiers.

At least the sentries are allowed sun glasses.

22 July 2012 – Glenholm

I'm writing this looking out the window at a bleak view up the valley with clouds hanging down over the tops of the hills and the wind whipping waves across the rye grass field next to the cottage.

To catch up, the German town of Gorlitz was delightful with 3 squares lined with old buildings and an old tower all in spruce condition. The matching town on the other bank of the river in Poland (they had been the same town before WWII) was dowdy and less well kept.

The main square in Gorlitz

Once we left Gorlitz we headed onto the autobahn for an overnight stay at Fulda (chosen as it was in easy distance of Frankfurt airport). The hotel we had booked there, the Knussknacker, had a theme of toy soldiers – based on the Nutcracker story. There were peanuts in a dish in the bedroom and dishes of nuts with various type of nutcrackers scattered around the bar and lounge, and the public rooms had arrays of the toy soldiers on every available ledge and window sill, almost every one unique in size, expression and/or attachments – carrying bugles, staffs, drums.....

The autobahn is an interesting experience – driving at 150kph in the slow lane while the occasional car zips past at 200+. It is amazing how fast these speedsters appear in the mirror while you are passing a truck.

Anyway we spent the next day returning the car, flying to Edinburgh and driving down to our accommodation at Glenholm. This is a remote valley in Peebleshire which is the ancestral home of my branch of the Bertrams and we had found a cottage to rent for a few days while looking at the family gravestones, etc. We arrived around 7:00 to find the cottage is part of a group of buildings making up the Glenholm Centre, a wildlife project and tearooms based around the old school and right next to the Glenholm graveyard. The centre is on Cardon farm with 1000 acres along both sides of the valley. Deciding to find something to eat we headed to the nearest town to find that the Bistro kitchen had closed for the night. A quick trip across country to the next town at Biggar, via a road that had given G willies on the way down due to the narrowness and deep puddles stretching across the width, found us a good restaurant in one of the pubs. Heading back around 9:30 it was still very light.

The next day was spent looking around the graveyard, driving up to the end of the valley, finding the church at Stobo and identifying the graves of my great-great-great-grandfather, his son and his wife which are directly outside the church door.

The family gravestones at Stobo

The first mentioned ancestor had been the head gamekeeper at the local estate and had the job of supervising the construction of Stobo Castle, an imposing country house, around 1800. We headed up to the castle which has been turned into an exclusive health resort and parked among the Porsches and Jaguars. Rolling up to reception in our tatty travelling clothes we asked if we could have a look around – no problem they said, as long as we didn't take photos inside. The entrance is very imposing with double staircases heading up and down and all beautifully decorated on a grand scale. We wandered down towards the back of the house among swarms of young women wearing uniform fluffy white bathrobes that seemed to migrate en-masse in every direction. The staff were immaculately turned out and the whole atmosphere was quite surreal. It was almost like a gathering of some druidical clan. We quickly retreated outside and took photos of the house and the immaculate grounds. The front lawn even had an H marked in a different coloured grass to mark the helipad.

Stobo Castle

We then spent a day heading west to Renfrewshire to catch up with the Dunlop family traces. A start was made in Neilston to find the first cotton mill built in Scotland by James Dunlop & Sons, but the locals had no idea of the history of the area, though there was a community centre set up by 3 women to bring the community together through information sharing which did have a map of the area. With the information gathered and a few good guesses we found the mill site including the mill pond, but the mill itself seems to be have been demolished and turned into a pleasant housing estate.

We carried on to the town of Dunlop. On the way I saw a castellated tower that I recognised as the Caldwell Tower which had been the subject of an extreme make-over project on TV. As Gillian is a Caldwell we headed over to see if we could get a better view of the tower and immediately came across the Caldwell Golf Club and Caldwell Lodge – a pleasant surprise for G to make an accidental homecoming.

Caldwell Tower

At Dunlop (my mother's maiden name) we spent some time searching for the (possibly) ancestral home of Dunlop House without luck. Stopping at the Dunlop Kirk we wandered around the graveyard and found a few Dunlop graves and also a Caldwell or two.

I then stopped in the middle of a one lane road to ask a passer-by directions to the house which were given rapidly as the traffic was building up in both directions. We still didn't get it right and stopped again to ask a couple who were walking past. They spent some time insisting that as I had Dunlop connections, however tenuous, I had come HOME and were also able to give us more info about the house which has been under renovation for years into exclusive apartments with a hiatus due to the economic conditions. Previously it had been owned by the local council and used as a home for the handicapped. We carried on to find the imposing gates and gatehouse of the estate and carried on up the drive through pleasant countryside for a kilometre and came round a corner to find an amazingly imposing 4 storey mansion standing in apparent isolation. There are construction barriers around the house and the windows are boarded up with plywood, but the exterior is in fine condition and made Gillian exclaim “I want to own this!”. We walked around the outside and peered into one room. The interior has been gutted, but there is still the remains of a fine fireplace.

Dunlop House

We also had been told of a local farm that produces cheese under the Dunlop brand. We found the farm a few miles down the raod and sampled the cheeses – all delicious. We ended up buying a “nearly mature” cheddar (traditional Ayrshire Dunlop), a “Crowdie” (a slighty crumbly cream cheese with a pleasant flavour and a round of “Aiket”, similar to camembert. A good amount of cheese for only £7 (=$NZ14) which I regarded as an exceptionally cheap price.

Today we attended church at the Stobo Kirk and then had lunch with the minister and his wife. He had a history of the parish and I was able to find a couple of references to the Bertram family, the first being in relation to a change of land ownership in 1541 in Rachan, just down the road.

Before church I walked up the road from the cottage to have a close look at the local golf course named Pitch and Putt. This is a project of the farm owner who personally mows the greens and occasionally the fairways which are hewn out of the long grass that covers the valley floor. The main limitation seems to be the lack of parking as the road is a single lane and there is only off-road space for 3 cars at the links. The hazards are challenging – a wide stream, several deep ditches, areas of rough that would hide a ball for eternity and greens that are minute and irregular in slope. Great fun.

Gillian found a gravestone in the graveyard beside the cottage which refers to 4 people, 3 of them Bertrams, that we have no records for. They died between 1858-1913 and don't fit the dates or history we know about, but I suspect that there were several branches of the family in the area so it is not surprising.

The weather apparently had been very wet prior to our arrival in Scotland with flooded pasture and a lot of water on the roads, but the last few days has generally been dry and mild (“Brass monkey weather” says G from under a heavy long coat and thermal underwear).

21 July 2012 - Glenholm

GillieB here

We left Prague and the Hotel Rott reluctantly. I highly recommend this very well appointed and reasonably priced hotel. It is perfectly situated for the old town and very quiet and extremely comfortable. Staff are very pleasant and helpful and speak English fluently – causing me to feel very humble.

We were chauffeur driven to the Hilton hotel underground car park, collected car and drove up into posh hotel car park. Typed in Gorlitz in Germany into GPS – no luck! So we headed into hotel reception where a young woman said it was actually in Poland ( we knew the town was divided in two by river Neisse ) and gave us spelling for the city in Polish – still no luck when we entered it into GPS. OK – what now? We didn't have a map of Germany!!! Back to see the hotel concierge this time – lovely young Polish man who knew the town and he gave us a small map of Ceska and located Zittau on it – which is near the Polish border an in the area near where we knew Gorlitz to be. He knew the town as Gorlitz and gave us advice re route to take. We entered Zittau in to GPS along with some stern words to the stupid woman who lives inside the device and why doesn't she keep up with border changes etc...and off we finally went.

Most of the way we were on the European Route and it was a lovely drive through countryside that went from rolling terrain with stands of trees to more hills and valleys and woods became denser. We went off at one point to have a drive through some villages. Taking the Hanichem off ramp we headed for Rossau – a charming village and carried on down into a valley toward the settlement of Kriebethal. As we made our ascent up a steep hill, which was clad in dense picturesque foliage and slender trunked trees ,and rounded a bend there was a beautiful castle nestled on the side of the hill! It is called the Krebstein Castle and is obviously a well known, well visited tourist site. Parties of school children were being taken through the site as well as a lot of other people wandering through and around.We popped into a charming café for a coffee in the village on the top of the hill.

After that it was back to the autobahn. Once we arrived at Zittau the signs to Gorlitz were easily followed and we found our accommodation easily using a goggle map Stephen had printed off. Piccobella Pension! We had a large room on ground levels so took the opportunity later in the day to pull out and repack to avoid excess baggage cost from Frankfurt!

Before the battle of the baggage though we walked up into the town of Gorlitz to an information centre. Our quest was to get directions to Stalag VII A. A prisoner of war camp where my father was interred from 1944 – 45, having been transferred from Italian POW camp when Italy 'changed sides”. The woman we spoke to and her colleague knew of the site and we bought a map of German and Polish Gorltiz. They identified the site – known mostly because of the Olivier Messian music centre.

Off we went in our Peugot . The area they had identified was clearly not correct – being a suburb of housing and some recreational areas. It is at this point I would like to thank Terry Crandle and his partner Karen for the advice and information they gave us before we left NZ. Terry's dad , John and others, were instrumental in gathering photos, materials , poetry and accounts of life in the Stalag VIII A camp written by internees. This involved carrying these documents on the forced march in 1945. This was a gruelling and inhumane imperative by the Third Reich.

There are accounts of conditions and what the men endured – the recounting and reading of these accounts is always edited by the author for the sake of their audience – the reality is always much harsher. Once in London John Crandle and other ex prisoners compiled and organised the publishing of a book called 'Interlude'. Men had previously signed up for and bought copies while in the Stalag – lists were compiled and in due course copies were sent out to these men. One of these men was my father – Joseph Ernst Caldwell – known in the army as 'Snow'. He was extremely fair headed. Fair minded too apparently as he was the quarter master for his barrack . I say apparently as he died when I was 2 years of age. My mother took good care of this document and now it is mine.

So – armed with my precious copy of Interlude and the information from Terry and Karen I was sure we needed to head out into the country side. This we did. This first road we took was obviously not the right one though we did find the German equivalent of 'allotments' ! OK – back to the round about and take the main road – bingo! In short order we found the site. 

Sign at the entrance to the Stalag VIIIA site.

Memorial at the camp

The site was laid out as Terry had described –a central track with side tracks leading off it. The track / road is covered with some gravel but big stones protrude regularly and there had been some rain so there were many large puddles across the surface of the road. This is not a well drained site – more about that later.

At the entrance to the camp there is a large memorial. There is also a plaque where there is a plan of the site – annotated to show where kitchens, latrines, barracks, chapel, library etc were situated. As we walked the road there were plaques that further described each site in a variety of languages. Today trees have made the left hand side of the road their home – they are slender, tall trees and winds whisper or whip ( according to the weather) through their branches. The ground, uneven because of remnants of drains and barracks / building foundations, is covered with grass – some ferns grow here and there. On the right ,as we walked through the camp, the ground is covered by lower growing scrub and wild flowers abound. This is more uneven ground. The buildings have been demolished – within the last 20 years – but it is possible still to find the foundations should you brave the prickly and non prickly under growth.

Around the middle of the camp we reached the plaque that commentated the centre where Olivier Messian completed and performed for the first time his “ Ode to the end of time”. Turning 180 degrees and looking out over the scrub I knew I had found the site of my father's barrack. Grateful thanks to Terry again.

This was a moment in time for me.

I saw pieces of red brick – sun dried brick – that I knew had been used to build the barracks. No full bricks from my father's barrack are left so – knowing this was where his barrack had been I popped the fragment into my pocket. ( now well scrubbed and in my luggage – hopefully to come home with us)

I knew my father loved violets. He often gave bunches of them to my mother. While we were in the town of Gorlitz I bought an African violet plant ( no violets available and they wouldn't survive) and carried it to Stalag VIII A . The area where my father's barracks had been was now scrub land so I decided to plant the violets opposite the site, beside the rusty memorial to Olivier Messian amongst the trees. Having clearing a small area of the grass that grew there I had nothing with which to dig a hole so – taking a long stick that was lying on the ground – I began to break the surface of the earth. That took a little effort but then, to my surprise, soon my stick sank easily down into the earth. OK – the reason for all the ditches between the barracks became immediately clear. The camp site is/was a bog!!

Violets planted by Gillian

Once I had I planted the violet I sought pieces of bricks from the barracks that were around to surround it. I then sunk the digging stick I had used beside the violets. I hope the violet plant survives – I guess the chances of that in the soggy soil are limited – and I will never know. However I am grateful that my father did survive this Stalag ( so is Stephen apparently!!) and also the previous PoW camps where he had been held captive in Italy. He he did not describe these camps much to my mother and there is only one reference to them in one of his letters that I have. I do know though from my reading that Italian camps were horrific – second only to the Japanese.In the inscription at the front of Interlude he described Stalag VIII A as his best time in captivity. Having read the book and the accounts of the camp I shudder!

As we went we were reading plaques. When the road made a division to the south I told Stephen I would like to go down it to the Russian prisoners grave yard. A wee discussion ensued about the location of this site.

Finally I persuaded him and we tramped on and soon found the cemetery. The Russians were imprisoned away from the other prisoners, little food provided and the ground around their 'shelters' was bare earth as they had eaten all the grass. 16,000 men are buried in this cemetery!!! Interlude recounts endeavours by the NZers, Australians and Brits to send contents of their Red Cross food parcels through to them – mostly thwarted by the guards .

As I walked into the cemetery a prickle of goose bumps ran up my spine and a shudder – Stephen had no such sensation. It is a beautiful place but not a happy place and I was glad to leave it.

The memorial in the Russian cemetary

Back to the main track again, with much to think about – we walked to the outskirts of the camp. As we had been walking we were already aware that there were still fence posts evident beyond the scrub. Now - arriving at the edge of the camp we gasped. There, standing sombrely as sentinels of the past, remain the posts that held the wires that interred my father along with thousands of other young men in the prime of their life. Young men caged as wild animals – that is probably how their potential was seen.

Remains of the camp fence

We walked on – we saw more of the first and second line defences. The fence posts are evocative and affected us both.

As Stephen explored these and worked out camp perimeters I went into a small crumbling building that was obviously related to administration – no roof but walls with some tiling remained. Tiles!! In a POW camp!?

We walked back through the camp – wondering how 10,000 plus men could have been confined never mind live for so long in such a small area.

I have no idea how to end this account - All I can say is at a personal level to my father is ' thank you for all you endured and for managing to survive and return home intact – in all senses of the word'.

14 July 2012 - Prague

Today we spent mooching around the Old Town.  Prague has been a real surprise to me - English spoken everywhere, real character in the buildings, interesting little alleyways everywhere and a real sense of life.  Crowds of tourists flow through the area over cobbled streets, shops selling crystal glassware alongside tatty fridge magnets, street markets with fresh fruit beside pashminas.  Crowds gather every hour in front of the Astrological Clock in the Town Square to watch as a skeleton (Death) rings his bell as the twelve apostles appear in windows above the clock and a trumpeter sounds a fanfare before the clock sounds the hour.  Many of the buildings in the area have elaborate plasterwork or murals in a distinctive monochrome style.

I went to get some cash in the local currency - the ATM gave me the cash in 2 notes, a 2000k and a 1000k.  It looks ridiculous to hand over a note with 3 zeroes on it to buy an icecream!  (1000k is around $NZD60)

We started across the Old Town Square past stalls selling pancakes straight off the griddle, ham sliced of legs rotating over charcoal braziers and all sorts of sausages.  There was stall grilling bread wrapped around wooden forms over a bed of charcoal, then dipped in sugar and cinnamon.

 Stall grilling bread rolls

We headed for the church with spires overlooking the square which appeared to be in the next street behind a row of houses.  We walked down a likely road only to arrive at the back of the church - the west and north faces have houses butting up to the church walls and even the entrance to the church is through a passage under houses into a very small square in front of the main door.

The Church of Our Lady Before Tyn from the Town Square

The "Before Tyn" part of the church name refers to the yard the church was built on - it replaced a church which was "After Tyn".

Then we tried to find the Jewish quarter which turns out to have largely been rebuilt 1890-1913, but there are still 6 synagogues, of which we found 4 and the old cemetery.  Many of the buildings in this area are modelled on Paris and there is even a small version of the Eiffel Tower (the Petrin Observation Tower - 60m) in parkland on the other side of the river.

 Synagogue at the Jewish cemetery

The Vltava River is slow, quite brown and crowded with boats, large and small, jockeying to get into the right position to view the Charles Bridge.  The bridge itself appears unexceptional except for the statues of saints lining both sides and the historical links - the bridge was the only dry crossing of the river for a long time and gave Prague economic importance and a pitched battle was fought on the bridge to protect the city from the invading Swedes in 1648.

Gate house for the Charles Bridge - the statue on the right is of Charles IV

There's a curious myth about the bridge - a statue of St John of Nepomuk who was martyred by being thrown off the bridge at the behest of King Wencelaus.  He is always shown as having 5 stars around his head as apparently these appeared when he was martyred.  Anyway there is a tradition that if you touch the five stars inset into the bridge close to the statue with five fingers of one hand then you will return to Prague.  However tourists seem to think that this involved touching the brass relief under the statue and this has a well polished area from the constant touching.  The other polished brass in town is the penis of a statue of a boy in the castle which shines out in relation to the rest of the statue which is almost black - the tourist come into the courtyard, smirk, then have their photos taken caressing that part of the statue.  In fact the statue was erected to epitomise the innocence of youth!

13 July - Prague

Our day began, Friday the 13^th, travelling from Vienna to Prague. We were sent down what our GPS calls the optimised route – over half of the journey being on what is called the 'European' Road. This meant we were able to see and enjoy the landscape as it changed. Travelling north easterly direction the hillside went from gently undulating to more hilly and the stands of trees increased as cropping disappeared. Then it was time to cross the border into Ceska – no one around who was interested in our entry so we motored on. No sooner were we in Ceska than we passed a large outlet selling huge and small animals -tigers / lions/ camels, gorillas etc ( inanimate of course) and before we could blink another shop with row upon row of garden animals, gnomes etc! Across the road were casinos ( plural) and lots of gaudily posted signage for things we couldn't read. Some time later we left the route and did another of our ' let's take this road and see what we can find” routines. We drove through a village, road becoming narrower and bumpier and through leafy tunnels until we came out into another even smaller village where there was the mill pond. We had noticed that the settlements we had been passing for a while now had these mill pond arrangements – no sign of a mill or mill remnants though. We took photos of this site – quite different architecture and surrounding gardens than in Austria and leapt back into car as it was quite cold – around 12 degrees.

Czech farming village

What we did notice as we moved from Austria to Ceska is the way the farming changed – cropping still very strongly in evidence but fields are considerably larger in Ceska and stands of crops cover

more land e.g. the strips of different crops are much wider than in Austria. Also cattle and sheep graze outside more often than in Austria, although not in the numbers we have in NZ.

OK – soon came the end of sedate driving for now. We were on a motor way – 3 lanes each way and as usual all over Europe large trucks thunder on regardless of who might be in their way – indicating a shift into the second lane as they start to move into said lane with no concerns about who might already be in that place at that time.I am not yet used to these trucks or for travelling in a small seed pod of a vehicle at 130 kms and being passed by cars going more than that. Needless to say we arrived quickly in Prague once we were on that motorway aka 'time machine”. A fascinating drive into this very prosperous city. Our GPS took us to our hotel – what a hotel! We were driven to underground parking for our car ( and back) and liveried door man took our luggage up. All very svelte and extreme attention to detail.  [Stephen - Through some good luck the hotel turned out to be located in the heart of the old city - absolutely amazing atmosphere.]

Square outside the hotel in Prague

Yesterday's blog came to an abrupt end as Stephen came in from his cash searching expedition to whisk me outside into the squares and streets around the hotel. I will leave Stephen to recount the buildings near us and our walks around the old city – just to say that we were excited by all we saw – shops selling gorgeous goods. We found ourselves looking lustfully at crystal – lust increased when we translated the krona into NZ$s! The food stalls had us salivating at 5pm – dinner this night at hotel restaurant we had decided – the buildings so beautiful, so diverse and so surprising with little ally ways leading to such unexpected sites and shops. I am sure , if you have visited Prague, you will know exactly what I mean. Back to dinner at the hotel – very posh. I changed out of my travel creased skirts and top – feeling a bit of a scruff. My soup was amazing, potato and truffle mmmmmmm – I will have to buy a recipe book. I have decided this trip will live in our memories for lots of reasons – by no means least for the wonderful food we have eaten everywhere. Waistline increases but I actually don't care at the moment - time to meat sensibly in NZ

The prices are reasonable in Prague – we had heard this was an expensive city but it seems quite reasonable.

That was all we could manage for the day so it was fall asleep time in this comfy bed!

12 July - Vienna

Me again – GillieB . We began the day in the hotel restaurant, mulling over the possibilities for the day – weather being warm and fine. With Austrian breakfast and Chris's laptop – Christopher has very kindly lent us his – we decided that attractive as the Monet to Picasso exhibition was we would need some time to do it justice and the countryside beckoned.  So we jumped into our car and headed into the Wachau valley – 40km long we were informed and a UNESCO designated 'pretty place'.  The drive was picturesque. Austria is patterned with cropping – extensive fields sown with wheat / sun flowers / maize and or corn . In the midst of these acres of crops are large stands of trees – in large clumps or rows or alongside the 'local roads” and autobahns. Countryside went from flat or gently undulating to small hills and valleys as we approached the Wachua.We drove beside the town of Melk, crossed the Danube ( Donau) and drove through the small settlement of Emmersdorf – up into much higher country via delicious windy roads with great surfaces ( unlike those of one of the motor ways to Prague we encountered the next day!) – going through a small settlement called Hain and thence St Georgen with delicious houses and farm yards all built in a quite typical style we were recognising as Austrian and came down to the Donau again via a tiny road the width of our car at about 45 degrees. Stephen got very excited and lots of 'Wows' were expleted!!. Entering Emmersdof again we then headed back up into the hilly stuff and drove revelling in the views and passing more flower bedecked villages and onion domed churches until reaching Maria Lach we we had to stop. So many features of which made us ooh and ahh! The information booth – sitting in the village centre had a wonderful, free, map for trampers of the local walks. Great! We seized that with alacrity and made of with it, GillieB telling Stephen what was what in the region for the rest of the drive. Our conversation went something like...”Oh Stephen , look at that tower over in that village!It's an onion tower that's had a baby – i.e. reproduced a smaller onion on top” “Where, what tower?” “ Oh, sorry, it's gone now!” ( He won't let me drive!!!”) 

Village pump in Hofamt

We meandered along the quiet road, up hills and down hills marvelling at the cropping. I am very impressed by the intelligence of the sunflower flower . They turn their faces, without exception, toward whence comes the sun! Sometimes that means we see their faces as we blast on by, burning diesel fumes for them to breathe. Other times they have their heads turned determinedly away in sun worshipping attitudes. Lovely! Oh – and the sun flowers we have seen in Austria / France and Cheska are much small versions of our NZ sunflowers . I conjecture this may be due to them being bred in more ancient soils and thence more knowledgeable about the expenditure of effort to grow the leafy greeny plant thing in ratio to the seeds produced in relation to bangs for your buck ratio or, dare I say it, genetic modification. Same for the wheat and maize plants.

Back to the journey. We carried on wandering along the small , narrow road until coming back to the Donau at Spitz. Stephen ground to a halt at this point – as he had spied a wine cellar with tasting. Lovely, light white and rose were acquired and on we went to Durnstein – also on the river. We parked and climbed up through narrow paths to this town – very old and atmospheric. 1193. That Richard Lion heart was up to his usual military antics and this time was caught, incarcerated by one Leopold I of the district. There he stayed until rescued by his besotted mother – Eleanor of Aquitaine (sp?) who ransomed this driven son of hers. Not much left of the ancient stuff but fascinating for GB and Stephen enjoyed the views, bless him!!! We had lunch in the modern area of the town, near the river. Stephen enjoyed his traditional Frankfurter with dark, solid brown bread. I am still reminiscing about my crème suppe – zucchini! Wow – I am sure I will never be able to replicate this dish. Light – creamy and with such a zucchini enhanced flavour. The French are wonderful cooks. The Italians just as amazing – the Austrian food – less press but truly amazing flavours – just a different style. I haven't managed to acquire an Austrian recipe book but google is a wonderful thing.

OK – back beside the Donau we travelled back to Vienna – more sites and things to think about en route and then Vienna at rush hour and with road works!!! Jut like NZ! More time to take in the buildings and people ( did a lot of that the night before in Vienna while we ate dinner. )

Interruption: Not sure if we have said but there a a lot of women – and I expect men also – of Muslim tradition in Vienna and Salzburg. Many fully burka-ed and others in long robes with head scarfs, Some with head scarves with very sexy tops, bottoms and shoes. All women whether burka–ed or otherwise were texting and talking on cell phones at all times.

Ok – we ate at Martins again that night ( having gone in search unsuccessfully of other eating houses with appeal) – this time I was disappointed with the meat dish but Stephen in paradise with his pasta dish. No worries as I grazed with enthusiasm on my potato salad and green salad – I do have to suss out the ingredients for the dressing they use on sauerkraut and potato salad.

11 July 2012 – Vienna

Stephen back as author.  We're having a few technical issues so have lost use of our smart phone and a few delays to blog - my apologies if anyone cares...

Today we started with delving into the underground to head into town. I wish that Auckland could learn some basic lessons on how to run a public transport system. Buy a ticket, validate it once and after that just walk on and off all forms of transport. Loading is fast and the trams can stop in the middle of traffic flows without causing a major holdup. The underground took 8 minutes for 6 stops.

We walked around to the State Opera House and were immediately beseiged with hawkers trying to sell tickets to any one of a number of dubious concerts. In July in Vienna it is hot and so all sensible people leave the city and head out, including the opera companies and orchestras leaving a motley bunch of wanna bees – at least that is my impression. Even the Spanish Riding School takes the horses out of the city.

We found the guy handling the tickets for the city tour we had chosen and were loaded onto a “transit bus”. In fact this was turned into the tour bus when we arrived at the bus station with an endless stream of mini-buses dropping more people to load on our bus. I thought we were fairly full when we left the Opera House, but at least the same number managed to squeeze on at the station. The tour started with a tour around the city ring road – really the boundary of the old city which was turned into a triumphal boulevard by some emperor. This is impressive in its foresight providing a really good traffic flow around the centre which is largely pedestrian. Many of the cities important buildings have been positioned around the ring interspersed with large pleasant parks. Then it was off to the Schloss Schonbrunn, one of the Habsburg summer palaces around the city, built on a large park which is now well inside the city limits. The palace apparently has 1441 rooms, but I'm not sure who counted them. We had the quick run through of about 30 of them including the very impressive ballroom and the fake Empress's bedroom (she never actually slept there, but used it to receive state guests). The embroidery and gold leaf on the imperial bed were spectacular.

Once back on the bus after a 30 break we left without all the group – there was no sympathy from the guide towards those who had failed to find their way back at the correct time or couldn't recognise the bus (which returned to a different place). Back to the Opera House where we ambled into the centre of town past many cafes stuck in the middle of the pedestrian only streets to look at St Stephens Cathedral - an ornate but gloomy church undergoing serious cleaning work.

Pedestrian street in the middle of Vienna

We spent a time people watching while eating an unexciting apple strudel in a pavement cafe. Gillian remarked on the body shape contrast of the young women here compared to France and Italy – definitely a heavier build to go with the heavier style of food.

In the evening we went back into town to another pavement cafe for a light dinner.

10 July 2012 - Vienna

We left our comfy hotel in Salzburg and made a fairly quick trip to Vienna. On the way I suggested to Stephen that we leave the tree lined autobahn and detour into the surrounding countryside. With no idea of wheat was around us we did that and found ourselves in a small village called Rutzmoos!!! such a picturesque village – see photo – houses quite typical of what we expected to see with Swiss influence.

Another village ran into Rutzmooz, by the name of Alm. There we saw sites that our guide in Salzburg had described – parents build family home with attached upstairs barn for cattle fodder and downstairs barn for wintering animals . . around their home they build other such establishments for their children to live in with their family in turn – designed to cope with work load on the land – we saw old houses like this with new versions around them so this appears to be a tradition that continues today! 

Austrian farm

Suddenly Stephen had to throw out the anchor as I had spied 2 , two humped camels seated in a small field quietly ruminating and enjoying the view over pasture and woods! Thence followed spirited debate between the Berties senior re the purpose of these animals in this situation.

 Camels in Austria???

No answers made sense so on we went.

Having arrived, checked into our hotel, in the outskirts of Vienna, we spent time , between cold showers to combat high temperature with associated lassitude, working out what we would do next. Decision finally made we ventured forth to buy cheap travel pass for 48 hours at the underground station ( across the road! How convenient and how clever of Stephen to book us in to such a site)Thence on wards to Schonbrunn Palace – up the road quite a bit on tram 10. Maria Theresia, hubby and 16 kids ( one of whom was Marie Antoinette)lived there sometimes – spreading themselves around Austria in the many and various palaces they owned. We intended to stroll through the vast gardens but before we could do that we were drawn but the sound of a brass band playing beside the imposing staircase to the palace's front door. We trundled up staircase and hung over the railings to watch, listen to ,applauded and sing along as the band from the Netherlands played a large range of music – classical, a medley of folk music for children around the world and then – to our delight excerpts from Queen! How the audience ( and we) loved that! So many items evoked memories of a special time for our family. The musicians played and role played at the same time - The crowd would not let them stop – the Dutch conductor responded to the mood of the crowd. The encore was enthusiastically received then conductor bade us all farewell – go home please – so they could have their photos taken. 

As I said – these incidental moments are truly highlights. 

We then wandered through gardens that were largely arboreal – cunningly laid out to trick those keen to explore. Flowers are laid out in lawns in fascinating patterns but not in beds as is common. Rather the flowers grow in the lawn – carefully tended so grass does not intrude amongst the flowers. Grass is kept low so the flowers stand higher. Does that make sense?

Schloss Schonbrunn from the gardens

Once our tummies stared to rumble at the same time as lightening began to do its thing so we found our number 10 tram again and whizzed back to hotel / restaurant Mataushenk – or something like that. And wouldn't you know it! The 3 nights we are here the restaurant is closed for a holiday!!!

So – with instructions from our host we ventured forth with brollies into rain – lovely and cooling as it was still very hot- to Martin's Bier Garten. Great Austrian food – always huge amounts. Completely stonkered – as my grand parents used to say – and with Stephen with somewhat soggy knickers as we ate outside under umbrellas and he insisted he was fine on the outer edge!!! - we tramped back to our beds. Finally had to shut double glazed windows as traffic noises were considerable. Ah! Peace at last. Double glazing over here is great sound proofing. Nonetheless it was a hot night and as there is no air conditioning in Austria yet ( again, info from our sound of music guide – she was great source of info sleep au naturale was in order. Oh dear – back to NZ temps will be a shock – never mind. Scotland will prepare us!

9 July 2012 - Salzburg

 The fortress over looking Salzburg

Salzburg old town streets

Gillian has decided that she would like to add her voice to the blog so I've handed over to her.

It's GillieB here – Stephen is tad tired so I am doing the bloggie thing . We spent yesterday in Salzburg – near the centre in quite a modern hotel. Staff all have excellent English – they told us it was necessary as Salzburg is a tourist town – and certainly we saw a wide range of ethnicities as we walked the streets. We did lots of the walking of the streets!! ( mostly after we arrived on the 8^th July) and saw all sorts of sights – many of which made more sense after the tour we did with the 'Sound of Music' today– don't cringe folks. It was a good decision as we were given lots of the local history of sites we passed . This was because of the exceptional guide for our trip – one Naomi, who had a well developed sense of humour and a fine sense of drama and knowledge of local history. I am continually aware of the need for schema -aka coat hangers – to make sense of what we see. The trip took in lots of Salzburg, important places and sites where the movie was shot and then we were taken out into the countryside. We enjoyed the anecdotes – cited by our guide, as offered by the caste ( many when they were the children in the movie) when they returned as adults and confessed to all sorts of naughtinesses during the filming. We stopped at many villages and lakes en route – with lake Mondsee – (moon) being the last. This happened to be the site of the church where Maria married her captain in the movie -what and amazing church. We are continually amazed by the artistry and opulence and skill of churches in Europe – this church had all this. 

 

The tour gave an excellent overview of Salzburg – we were interviewed by a German doctorate student en route for reasoning for going on the tour!!!!!

 Stephen in front of a palace that was used as a set in th eSound of Music

The ultimate tacky souvineer- a Yodelling Marmot

We ate at a restaurant called 'Die Alter Fuch'; ( The other Fox ) but would Stephen stop his conjecturing!!!! Lovely Austrian food – so yumm but so heavy in the tum. We staggered up the road back to our hotel.

Moment for reflection : As we travel I find moments magic and spiritual in the most unexpected places –an example of which being the church in Diano San Pietro. We were immersed in Ligurian countryside – wandering around, identifying the details of local life as described by Annie Hawes - when we happened on the local church, bonging and banging the hour and half hour to keep us on track. OK – we locate ( eventually) the access into the parish church ( each village has a church with a bell that chimes the hours and half hour – just as Annie recounted, each village has their own time keeping – never the same - so the bells ring for some time around the valley!! Wonderful!!)So – we wander into what we are expecting to be a dark, damp crumbling one time place of worship. How wrong could we have been – we gasp in awe and wonder as around and above us we are surrounded by a huge sanctuary and knave – embellished with the most exquisite artistry – the quality of the painting thereof can only have endured through the preservation and loving care and sacrifices made by the local parish and people .

 Interior of church - the outside was dreary and crumbling

The peace and presence in this place of worship is tangible and very precious. This is not something I expect or seek in all or every chapel / cathedral etc we explore. San Pietro came as a gift – and so I say thank you! A similar experience in the church outside Fontaine Bleu – in the Loire. After the stark spendour of the abbey we entered into the still quiet calm of a place for worship that has existred for hundreds of years.

As so often on our journey we find the unexpected where we we least expect it and it is of course the most exciting part of each day!