iH! eBeck Hrer. Please be warned that I am currently smashed.

Ok. So Wales is beautifual. Those of us who have been all agree. But I think I might have forgotten a bit.

I might also have forgotten about how amusing my childhood friend Julie is, who has brought her amusing Spaniard, Abraham, along for the journey into the long and dark distant past.

We have just spent the last the last few days in the Brecon Beacons having the most fantastic time with Roy and Judith at the Three Cocks (which is also the name of the town on the A430 (or something) between Hay-On-Wye and Brecon. Despite a night of weirdness on the last night, the Three Cocks is an inn you must go to. Nestled within a valley of the Brecons it is a wonderful, foody, home away from home run by an ex-advertising man and his wife. Who, by the way, could cook nearly anyone we know in the cheffing trade under the table.

Jules and Abraham were absolutely delightful and it was like no time had passed since Jules and I last saw each other (which I have calculated as some 17 years). That's the test of how good friends you are, I tell you.

Now I must caveat this blog with the explanation that the 65 year old woman that mans the internet station at the Lancaster (which is where we're staying until we leaves) is regaling me with an over the top story of a Phillipino woman who got picked up by, and married to, an ex-guest of the hotel who looks like Pierce Brosnan. Now she's telling me about some bird who married Carrie Grant. She gets one date and bag of chips and can of coke - I just informed her that by the time her prince comes she will be on a zimmer frame. No point lying - she is 65.

So Damo has been to Pont-y-Pool now - the birth home of his father. I thought Dapto might be a step up - so Norm has done well. I have a few amusing photos of Damo standing astride Nicholas Street.

Update on old lady manning internet station - I am an unusual guest because she wouldn't normally speak to me this way (i.e. giving me solid updates on which guest asked for what and why and wondering why the fuck they would've asked in the first place, and then in the same breath praying that I'm not from the Tourist Board (probably full of bastard Torys)).

Pont-y-Pool is a place in SE Wales which has clearly suffered from a fast Thatcher-ian closure of the coal mines. Perhaps Norm left at just the right time. I'll be honest and say that I didn't feel entirely at ease there, but that's perhaps just that I was a foreigner in their town.... Jules fealt the same. But anyhoo it was indeed very interesting from heredity point of view and Damo would like to spend more time there so it can't have been all bad.

The Beacons on the other hand are utterly beautiful and full of lovely quaint little towns ready to serve you inappropriately large pints of home brewed ale. Which we drank (or in some cases, pinky skulled) quite a few of. Damo, Abraham and Jules weren't shy in showing their skulling prowess. I would've to but for the bastard Spanish Flu I caught that has impeded my drinking fitness in a way embarrassing to my reunion stadards.

Jules of course was very forgiving and pinky skulled her way through a few pints on my behalf. Thank god because otherwise someone wouldn't have been able to tackle Damo on the finer points of idealistic politicism. And other words Jules used because she is a philisophical writer.

It's only because I am currently maggotted after visiting our hotel's bar (where they had half price drinks) and then a little jaunt to OXO Tower (and every bar on the way there from Lancaster) that I haven't mentioned how awesome it was to see Jules and Abraham. Jules was my childhood bestest of friends and it really was a fantastic 'as it was' reunion. And Abraham - despite being Spanish ;) - is a dead-set legend, and cono. It warmed my heart greatly to firstly see a very old friend whom I loved and see that it was like we saw each other yesterday, and that her wonderful partner was the same. And I could practice my bad Spanish on him. Bonus (poor bastard).

Ok I think I have rambled on in a paraletic way enough. We fly out on Thursday night just in time for an arrival at Davey Mac's 40th. Better start hunting for a shocking latex wound tomorrow.

Did I mention that I am blind drunk? Yeah. I just reread my blog and can't remember writing any of it. Happy Davey Mac?

Ciao, Auf Wiedersehn, Good Nacht!
xxx

G'day from Ol' Blighty

It's right to say G'day here. A distinctly large proportion of the population appears to be Aussie. I suspect none of you are surprised to hear that.

We made it out of Espana, with some mixed feelings - on one hand, it was a fun, vibrant and colourful architectural and culinary mecca. On the other hand, there wasn't a whole lot more cured meat I could stomach, not at the price it was being sold at anyway.

We had expected Spain to be the 'cheap leg' of our journey, and therefore spent up with gay abandon in other countries. But oh no. Touristica have made this place positively the most expensive city I have visited (even Damo says he'll retract his review of Zurich as the most expensive). Two beers were costing us about 16 euros on average - that's nearly AUD$30! I could eat pretty cheaply if I ate 3 small pieces of tapas (not three small hot portions of things on plates - 3 little bocadillos, which are sort of like canapes of tasty things on a small slice of pan) which was on average about 6 euros, or nearly AUD$12. But they weren't enough to last more than a few hours when were trotting all around the city en-foote). Our 1 bedroom apartment was the cheapest option for accomodation (save the dreaded bed-bug ridden hostels) at 800 euros for 7 nights. The Espanolas like to sting you for everything, and I'm surprised there's not a tax on crossing the fucking road. No free museums, tours, or art galleries - they all cost 16 euros to get in. Flat charge. Oh except Park Guell, which I must admit was pretty cool.

Yes I would've laid down my life to see the fab buildings and museums we went to. But it shaved $4.5K out of our bank account without blinking an eyelid. Ouch. When I came to Spain (albeit nearly 10 years ago now) it was SUPER cheap. Was I just not paying attention? Or has it gotten a lot more expensive over the years?

Anyway I'd go back - perhaps not to Barcelona, but I really do love Espana with a passion. It's choca-block full of interesting people and things to do. And some of the most mental of artistas have derived their inspiration from it's old religious ways.

Enough about Espana. An uneventful flight from Barcelona has brought us back to the shores of the mother country, and we have been cruising the streets looking for promised knife fights and postcode gangs. Apparently they've set up a 30-strong team of armed personnel (armed with state of the art semi-automatic weaponry, mind) to deal with the latter. Nice!

Yesterday we did the Sezzlechest Cultural Tour for the Mildly Interested. Spitalfield Markets were zany and interesting. Unfortunately it went a bit pear from there... Sezzle we'll give you a full rundown of our tour from there - you'll be amused. Suffice it to say we abandoned the tour when we got to Blackfriars bridge and decided to get changed and reset. We ended up at The Forge in Soho for a delightful dinner and bottle of wine, which set off my cold and flu tablets nicely (yes, Spain has given me a little gift to remember her by) so we stumbled off home all glassy eyed on the tube at midnight. It's the English way innit.

And we'll be doing more of the same tonight, as we are off to meet Damo's friend Amy for drinks. That's drinks right after our Nicky French tour of Pubs of the Norf. Should be out of control.

Tomorrow we are cruising off in our hire car to Wales and the Brecon Beacons for the weekend, where I will also be meeting up with a very old friend Julie, who I was bestest friends with when I was a young teenager. I should imagine there will be much hooting and singing of Mel and Kim songs when we greet.

Love to youse all in 'Strayla from Ol Blighty land xxxx

Hola! ¿Com es tas?

We haven´t died - We have been chillin in Barcelona, drinking and taking in el sol meditereniene. So I don´t know any Catalan and my español is bad - ¿so what?

In short. Damo has killed his love of potatoes, seeing as that´s about all he can eat here. I, on the other hand, can eat any animal I want. And oil. If I want to or not. But the cava is muy bien and the sun is hot, so I don´t care if a 100gm meal equates to a 25kg expansion of my ass.

Today we went to Palau Guell and some fancy pants apartment block on Gracia which I should know the name of but can´t remember because I had two cavas dos momento ago. Yesterday we went to Sagrada Familia (awe inspiring) and Park Guell (quaint and slightly nostalgic). We´ve been here 8 days but for some reason only decided to do a bunch of sight seeing on the last two days of our stay.

It´s certainly been amusing drinking grande cervezas on La Rambla and picking which nationality the hombre´s y chicas are from. I´m sad to leave, but looking forward to food that is not sausage, queso, jamon or aglio olio. Or gazpacho for that matter. How about a food without tomatoi? Impossible para mi!

We will provide you with a better rundown in the future. But for now - adios, for we are about to visit the Dali museu.

Adios!

Da"mo´s bit

Guten Tag, Hola, G´day...

Well.. not much more to say that has not already been said by my beautiful wife.

Our dinner here in Barcelona was incredible, as has been the service from the good people here at ABaC.

We are staying on a street called Tibidabo which allegedly comes from the devil who trying to tempt christ took him to a high place and said "Haec omnia tibi dabo si cadens adoraberis me", loosely translated as "all this I will give you if you fall down and worship me"

I am happy to worship anyone or anything that makes me feel this good!

This place is truly 5 star and puts every so called 5 star establishment in Australia to shame. We will return... even if it costs us eternal dmanation in hell! Hmmm.. Sacrilicious!

The Swiss Alps were absolutely incredible and I recommend them to everyone. Beck disagrees but I feel assured in declaring Zurich the most expensive city in the world.

Eighteen bucks for a gin and tonic is over the top and it was not even particuarly good. We got our own back the next morning though with some fare evasion on the tram. That´s right... breakin the law overseas. We is international criminals now!! Well ard!

Beck has been quite harsh about Berlin but there were some great things about it. We got the late because of shitty Deautsche Bahn but our cab driver (who spoke german, turkish and russian but very little english) kindly hung around to make sure we were alright when we arrived late at our apartment.

As it turns out we were not alright as we had missed our contact who was going to let us in and our phones were not working. Strange city, late at night with no idea where to go but our friendly cabby was quite happy to use his own phone to ring our contact person and he stayed until she turned up to give us our keys.

He really saved our sorry tourist asses and it made me very happy to see how unexpectedly suprised he was when we slipped him a 20 euro tip. In the end we were all happy!

For the nerds, we visited the Luftwaffe museum and I saw one of the few remaining Komet jet fighters plus a whole load of other incredible historic aircraft such as Fokker triplanes and cold war jets.

If you don´t know why the Komet is unique then google it. They could have changed the outcome of WWII if introduced a year or two earlier than they were, and the Fokker triplane was made famous by a certain German Baron.

We also had a fantastic Michelin Star meal at a place called Rutz, as well as checking out Checkpint Charlie ( the central point of the cold war) as well as the Brandenburg Gate and the Reichstag.

You really could feel the history!

Anyhows, I have a fabulous meal to digest so must fly. Very much looking forward to doing some serious relaxing in Barcelona.

Miss you all back home and hope all is well. Feel free to post some comments so we know you are reading our blogs.

Leila, I hope the Chairman is treating you well.

Enjoy!

Damo. :)

Round Midnight

Hola! We are in Barcelona at ABaC Hotel & Restaurant. For those looking for hospitality perfection, look no further - for we are in 5 star nirvana.

It´s been a fun but slightly hard slog to get to the halfway point in our journey, but now that we are here in our penthouse it hardly seems like we´ve been anywhere else.

Right now I am writing to you from the top floor of Tibido numero uno after a faultless meal as cooked by chef Xavier (who came out from the kitchen to greet us especiale) who has recently won a number of Michelin stars, and no wonder, because Damo and I just had many moments of food in our mouths with eyes rolling orgasmically in our heads.

Who said that 5 star was passe? If you are feeling like your dollar doesn´t go far in this day and age, you need to come here. We arrived two hours early for our check-in, and they didn´t blink an eye. Straight in (with complimentary sparkling water) we have been snuggled in our own private penthouse fluffy cloud here on our own floor. We have 2 jacuzzis in our room (3 if you include the private spa in the basement) and a fantasmagorical deck which has 4 seating areas and a private spa bath overlooking the hills at the north of Barcelona. This is what I always thought 5 stars was about.

The staff are totally invisible and it feels like we have a whole hotel to ourselves. But if you want anything - anything at all - just dial 9. Someone always seems to appear 10 minutes later to exceed your expectations. I love it here and if anyone else deems fit to appear in Barcelona their visit wouldn´t be complete without a stay right here.

I´m not just banging on. There is nothing I can fault. Our room is amazing. The staff are accomodating and extremely friendly. How can you not love a series of water features in your own room and an endless supply of icy cold sparkling water in 30 degree temperatures?

I can´t only harp on about Espana. Part of our trip from Berlin was a ride through part of the Golden Pass, that is, through the Swiss Alps. Frankly I thought they were astounding, and it was one of the best things I have experienced. The Alps are dramatic and tempestuous queens surrounding bright turquoise alpine water, which I don´t think would be fun to swim in regardless of ambient temperature.

Damo and I are very happy to see the ass end of Deutshe Bahn (German rail company), which we have dubbed Schiesse Bahn. Here is a song for you which we made up, based on our experience, which should be sung to the tune of Moscow, Moscow!:

Scheisse Bahn, Scheisse Bahn
If you catch it you´ll be late
It will make you quite irrate
Scheisse Deutsche Bahn
Hey!

Yeah. If you come to Germany you should try to avoid Deutsche Bahn. It sucks. Never on time, and any directions are in sporadic English, if any English at all (much like ze Germans generally, who like to roll their eyes every time you ask if they speak your rotten language and not their precious Deutsche as though they hardly ever get to speak it what with all the bastard foreigners expecting them to speak English while they´re propping up their god-forsaken economy).

But back to the Swiss Alps. On our way to the Alps we stayed in Zurich, and a quaint hotel called Hotel Europe. Switzerland is beautiful and Damo and I have already planned another journey just through Die Shwiez. Bordering Italy, it is predictably full of Italians, who I mentioned in another blog, are making a fair play for world domination through their crafty culinary arts. And so predictably I ate a very fine spaghetti vongole and drank some very fine Prosecco thank you very much.

Our trip through the Swiss Alps went from Luzern to Interlaken. Oh how I wished for a cow bell from every station. But alas we needed to get back to Zurich where we caught an overnight train to Barcelona. Unsuprisingly we drank way to much near (note, not at) an Oktoberfest in the Zurich Hauptbahnhof and so the train journey was a bit special. I don´t think some of the things I experienced in the shared toilet are for public consumption.

But we´re here now, and I have had a wonderful few relaxing hours here at ABaC. We will give you another Barcelona update once we have left our little heaven I´m sure.

Buenas Noches!!
xxxx

You are now leaving the American Border...

Having found a more user friendly cafe (but alas, no more user-friendly keyboards for English speakers, so forgive any strange spellings, lack of apostrophes or random oumlaus) I intend to put all the alcohol I just consumed to good use and bang on a bit about Berlin.

This evening Damo mused that all the westernised countries he has been to have the same feel, and by that I think he meant the people and their ways. I can see his point - we are all watching the same TV shows, spending our daily lives with foreigners, eating Italian food (those I-ties sure are making a good show of culinary world domination!) and drinking coca cola. To this end, we arent that different, save the ubiquitous language differences. And even on that front I can see parallels, doubtless due to frenchy-fresian origins of English.

But to notice only the people would be to miss every other point of difference - and for me particularly architecture is what lends a city its unique feel. Berlin is unpretentious and still has a feint friction between socialist and democratic leanings. Despite nearly 20 years passing since the wall came down, there is a certain tension between old and new and this is only highlighted by the busy reconstruction across all of Berlin.

There is indeed a good deal of juxtaposition within architecture, food, cultures and class. East bumps against west and the only cushion is the Tiergarten (which, by the way, beats any inner-city park Ive ever seen). The mood is buoyant despite significant city debt thanks to some impressive mismanagement of welfare. And I suspect that Berlin is almost entirely riding the coat-tails of its tourist dollar right now...

Public protesting is now legalised and a good old afternoon protest is rather popular. Weve seen one every day, but because our German is so bad we have no idea what they are about. I think one was anti-nuke... and the other one looked like something about elections. Finger on the pulse eh?

Food. Oh the food. If I lived here Id be the size of a house because I would only eat bread. Tasty, tasty bread in all its forms - brezel, croissant, pumperknickel, etc etc etc. Also you can imagine that Germans like their meat (fleische) and so Ive taken it upon myself to try all kinds of cured items including sampling multiple currywurst, which is effectively a tasty carb bomb of slop atop a wurst sausage. YUM and kicks ass with bier.

Right Im going to intervene in Damos surfing the net for how to get to the Luftwasse museum. Otherwise he will start making plane and bomb noises which are apparently some form of language that men can communicate in, but not with their wives, who just roll their eyes and wish for another bottle of Dom Perignon.

Cheuss!

Ich bin eine Berliner!

We are here in Berlin. What an interesting place! It is unpretentious and pretty, and its hard to believe it has such a war torn history.

Weirdly its rather similar to Melbourne. There is much delicious food and weird, tucked away little bars. Really it deserves a better rundown than Im going to give it right now - but I am in some dodgy little internet cafe where I only have 15 minutes and most of that time has been spent working out how to navigate the weird German keyboard.

Last night we had dinner in a vegetarian restaurant that really wouldve given Becasse a run for its money. Over 10 restaurants here have been awarded Michelin stars here this year - culinarily speaking its not here to muck around. We are off to one of the newest and best known - Weinbar Rutz, which is conveniently right near our flat. Will try and get another blog (at a better cafe) then.

Wish you were all here enjoying the faintly socialist leanings with us!

Auf Weidersehn (pet)!!

Oh Hamsterdam

Damo got back his bag and we left the land of wooden seated toilets that don't flush properly bound for Hamster town. Only to arrive at a ground-staff-free Schipol Airport where our luggage got stuck on some conveyer somwhere.

You can imagine that Damo was intensely impressed. We had to climb into the luggage conveyer and fish our bags out ourselves. Eventually some stoner worked out that the conveyer had stopped and switched it back on. Cab ride was a bit of an adventure (and cost 50EUR) but lets not continue to harp on about bad shit.

Amsterdam has worked its medieval majik on us and we are having a jolly good time indeed. Our houseboat is awesome (you can see it at http://www.houseboathotel.nl/accommodation_amsterdam/houseboat_b040/) and the owner says it's 'ok to make big party'. Sure thing! We have given ourselves some good crotch burn cruising around on rusty old bikes, and have been enjoying a LOT of good wines, cheeses and restaurants.

We have caught up with our old friends Timo and Marita a few times and they've shown us great hospitality and taken us to some awesome restaurants. So far we haven't had a single shit meal in Amsterdam. We've been to a great Mexican place just around the corner from our house where I ate tamales the size of our houseboat - Damo had a very tasty Chimuchunga - and drank enough strawberry and banana margeritas to topple a small rhinocerous.

Damo and I have been amusing Timo and Marita with Australianisms and really bad pronounciations of Dutch words. Yesterday Timo and Marita drove us out of town to Da Hoge Velowa which is a big ass park in the centre of the Netherlands where we saw wild deer and rode around on bicycles (10km - good for extra crotch burn) and generally took in a lot of fresh air and the ubiquitous smell of pig shit. Of course neither of us could say the name of the park so we've just come up with a pronounciation that smacks of big snorty spits on a flocked wallpaper.

Last night we went to T&Ms place for a cracking glass of dry cider then off to an Ethiopian restaurant called Abysinnia for an enormous tasty African meal, which officially goes onto my list of all-time great meals. Basically a massive plate of curries and condiments which you scoop up in fermented pancakes with your hands. Side of multiple banana beers - lekker! And so gezellig!

We are officially halfway through our Amsterdam leg and I frankly look forward to less crotch burn. I doubt any cycling will be done in the Faterland - but you never know.

Righto - off to Vondelpark (Vogong Park) to drink a fancy french wine straight from the bottle. And get more crotch burn.

xxx

Smell the History - Tales of Honeymoon Hell

AAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!! Singapore Airlines best airline of the skies eh? Well if not recording your seat preferences, diet preferences and losing your luggage is good service, then I'll eat my hat.

Arrived at Heathrow at 7:40pm. Managed to get through customes by 8:50pm. Waited at baggage pick-up for 1 hour before having where-with-all to work out that baggage wasn't coming.

Yes, poor Damo has copped it big-time. He didn't get to eat anything worth speaking of on the flight over and has been wearing the same clothes now for 59.3 hours. He smells delightful. We've just been informed that his luggage will arrive at 4pm tomorrow - the same time as our flight to Amsterdam. So we've had to cancel and rebook that and cancel our celebratory degustation at Joel Rubuchon tonight (lest we be frowned upon by Sloanies for wearing sneakers in a Michelin starred restaurant).

All is not entirely lost, however. We have now consumed multiple cocktails in our hotel which we have dubbed Fawlty Towers (Farty Owls). Although it is beautiful and the food and drinks are rather splendid thank you very much it is run by Frenchies who haven't learned that the customer is always right. So we've black-banned room service (but not the bar).

Actually for those who come to Londonia frequently, I would recommend a visit. I had steak tartare last night and it was DELICIOUS (surprisingly) and Damo's vego tomato gnocchi was also excellent. The wines are also really REALLY GOOD. I should know - I've sampled quite a few of them now.

We did a big trot from Kensington Gardens, through Green Square, Buckingham Palace, Houses of Parliament (vive le union revolution!!), Number 10, Nelson's stick and the flying rats, Picadilly Circus. Sampled some fine Jerk Chicken and warm, flat ales. Off to Brick Lane for a drunken curry tonight. So woes are all tempered with a ubiquitous whirlwind tour of the main British landmarks.

Next time we post it will be from Bonging On land. Home of cakes, pancakes and cheese. Mmmm. I'm gonna get me a pair of clogs.