Seeing the light in Copenhagen

After about a day and a half at sea we arrived at the picturesque city of Copenhagen in Denmark. We are quite surprised by the warm temperature that greets us (above 30 degrees) as we take the short walk along its Langaline Pier into town. As the sun shines, the centre of the city is buzzing with numerous canal cafes crammed with patrons, while street musicians celebrate the Copenhagen Jazz Festival and add to the happy atmosphere. We walk along the shopping street called Stroget, browsing around the many shops that display wonderful Danish design. We also take some time to inspect the newly renovated Royal Palace for Australia's very own Princess Mary and the future King of course. As Palaces go, it is very livable with some interesting creative touches provided by several leading contemporary Danish artists. Another pleasant surprise is the NY Glyptotek which is a gallery that includes an excellent collection of early Impressionists works and other modern masters. After being inspired by these, I indulge in a bit of sketching while Jules climbs to the top of the Rundetarn for a great view of the city. The tower is one of the tallest and oldest buildings in the city centre and houses a fully functioning observatory. She returns thrilled by the opportunity to actually view the sun through the giant telescope, something that not many of us can say we have done.

Back to where it all began

We arrived back in London and it's like visiting an old friend. The circumstances may have changed but the underlying character of this wonderful city remains the same. After all, it was here that our adventure began over fifteen months ago. It's great to be back yet again, even if it is just for a short while. We hop on the tube with such confidence these days, barely glancing at the underground map as we dart around to familiar spots that leap straight from the monopoly board. It's a busy schedule, as we catch up with family and friends, while the mid year summer sales tempt us to add to our ever increasing luggage weight. We find some time to catch a West End play (Prisoner of Second Avenue with Jeff Goldblum) and we finally visit the Saatchi Gallery (it was closed on our previous visit). All of these pleasantries prevent us thinking too much about what we have left behind in Paris and the challenges that lay ahead. The deception continues as we head to Southampton to board the Queen Victoria for a very indulgent cruise of the Baltic ocean.

Au Revoir Paris

On Saturday night we spent our final evening in Paris. We sat perched on a park bench close to the Eiffel tower sipping champagne in celebration of a truly remarkable year. Tomorrow we would say goodbye to our cosy little apartment and board the Eurostar for London, so we were feeling quite reflective about the many wonderful people we had met and memorable places we had seen during the course of the year. As usual the place was buzzing with tourist excitement that was further heightened by the added ingredient of the world cup being televised on the big screen across the Seine at Trocadero. As we watched the hourly twinkle of lights on the tower and analysed our mixture of emotions, we would be occasionally distracted by the distant raw of the crowd watching the Spain v Paraguay game. At its conclusion the Spanish supporters emerged singing, dancing and waving their red and yellow flags. Clearly they had won! Their noisy celebrations near to where we were sitting signalled it was now time to shoot the last of our photos and take a final lazy stroll back to Rue de Javel. One chapter had ended, but another was about to begin.

A Room with a View

Last Friday was my last day at school. An emotional day that concluded a fantastic and memorable year! It was a great location to work, not the least because for a year I had one of the best views in Paris. Being perched in the high side of the Seine, I never tired of the outlook from the art room that stretched across the rooftops to take in that iconic monument, the Eiffel Tower. It was one spectacular view and in the daily grind of day to day school life (which in many ways is similar the world over), a quick glimpse would continue to remind me just exactly where I was. Although its image is used to such an extent as to become almost a Paris cliché, Jules and I just love it. Not a day has gone by when we haven’t simply stared up in amazement at its perfectly proportioned ‘meccano-like’ form. It’s subtle changing colours at various times of the day and its spectacular night illuminations have remained spellbinding. We have particularly loved running around it early in the morning before the tourists had arrived, feeling that just for that moment it was all ours. It has been our beacon when we were disorientated walking the streets of Paris and a welcoming signpost that always pointed us back towards our little apartment.

In Search of Vincent

Recently Jules and I completed a fascinating journey that had lasted several months, as we followed in the footsteps of the troubled and somewhat misunderstood artist Vincent Van Gogh. It began at his studio in Montmartre, but eventually saw us making our way to the countryside of Provence to stand in the very locations where many of his most famous works were painted. Journeying to the town of Arles, we saw the spot were he once shared a house with Gauguin, which also coincided with the famous ear cutting incident. We visited the hospital where he convalesced, with its beautiful Spanish style courtyard and drank coffee at the café featured in the painting ‘Café Terrace at Night’, with both remaining quite the same as in his time. We ventured to the nearby town of St. Remy where Van Gogh spent a year in the Saint-Paul-de-Mausole-Asylum. We sat in the walled garden where he had spent many an hour and I pulled out my watercolour box to render a quick homage to the moment. The tranquillity, the iris in bloom and the gentle spring light was almost spiritual! The trail soon continued back to the township of St.Remy, which was dotted with sign posts indicating the location of many of his most famous works. The final stage of the journey was completed quite recently with a short train trip from Paris to the town of Auvers sur Oise where Van Gogh spent his final days under the care of Dr. Gachet. He painted many celebrated works in this lovely town and of course his final work, ‘Wheatfield with Crows', with its three paths going in different directions can still be seen in the fields at the edge of the town. Nearby the graves of Van Gogh and his brother Theo can be found, quite humble but carefully maintained. Our journey is now complete and we both feel that we have learned so much more about the artist than just reading a book or viewing his works in a gallery. We saw these places through his eyes and like him became enthused. The beauty of the landscape and simplicity of a way of life that still remains inspirational.

Pop Art hits Paris!

Over the past few weeks my year 9 art class have been working productively to build a colourful collection of ‘crawling critters’ with the notion of creating a temporary pop art sculpture in Paris. They had been studying 'public art' and were keen to create their own collaborative art work that would create some attention. Today was the day... the sun was shining and the crowds were heading toward Trocadero to watch France play possibly their final world cup game on the big screen. As they walked the Pont d’lena in front of the Eiffel Tower they were confronted with an army of yellow, blue and red crawling creatures arranged in interesting configurations by the young artists. The crowd reaction was very positive as by passers photographed the activity. The students enjoyed the attention and the sculpture temporarily became a colourful addition to one of the great locations of the world.

Les Puses - Paris

Visited Les Puses on the weekend which is something we had promised ourselves we would do on a previous short visit to Paris and it has come down to the last weeks of living here before we have done it. ‘Les Puces’ is probably the biggest flea market in Europe selling everything from cheap brand rip-offs to expensive antiques. You would think that with hundreds of stalls to look at we would find one unique souvenir of Paris but alas no…lots of junk and the few gems that we did see were quite expensive. Of course weight is always an issue for nomadic adventurers such as ourselves, so that was another factor to be considered. It’s certainly a bustly place, but a bit grotty in parts. As you come up above ground from the metro there are many shady characters thrusting fist loads of sunglasses, hats, lighters or cigarettes in your general direction. When you walk further and escape the tatty market and wander into the tiny alleys, it’s more sane and you can meander around some interesting shops without being hassled. It was made even more pleasant on the day we were there as there were a series of impromptu jazz performances dotted throughout the area, which were brilliant!

Turning Back Time in Troyes

As the coldness of the European winter recedes and warmer weather begins to emerge, Jules and I set our sights on visiting some of the picturesque towns that lie outside of Paris. One such town to the southeast is the historical village of Troyes (pronounced ‘Twah’). Located in the heart of the champagne region, it was a relatively short train trip away (approximately 150 km) and ideal for an overnight stay. As it is regarded as one of the better preserved 16th century towns in France, we were keen to make our way there. Upon our arrival we were immediately struck by the traditional architecture, which was very different than what we had imagined; looking much like the Elizabethan Tudor style of England with its use of exposed wooden structural beams. Clearly the channel between the two countries was no barrier to the development of this building style. Amazingly many of these particular structures date back to the 1500’s and over the years whole streets had been beautifully restored and maintained. Walking through the narrow cobblestone streets of the old town was indeed like stepping back in time and we were amazed at the way its authenticity has been maintained over the years. We were particularly fortunate to secure one of these heritage buildings as our accommodation for the night. Positioned close to a tree lined canal where narrow boats were moored as they had been for hundreds of years, it was an idealic picture. As we continued to wander around the centre of town we came across the ornate Troyes Cathedral, which could be viewed at close quarters from the town square. This is the heart of the old town, which is lined with numerous cafes, bars and restaurants and is a haven for tourists. In the increasing heat of the afternoon, we couldn’t resist sitting under the colourful umbrellas to quench our thirst with a nice cold beer, while taking in this uniquely French outlook. In fact, it was so good that in the evening we returned once again to eat outdoors and enjoy the ambience of the balmy night. Unlike Paris there was a relaxed atmosphere here that appeared to be less rushed by the modern pace of life. The locals were genuinely welcoming and happy to share the unique qualities of their town and countryside. Certainly, with the champagne region at their doorstep they had much to smile about, although for us the town itself was simply enough.

Remembering the Diggers at Villers Bretonneax

One of our goals while in France was to visit the historic region of the Somme to pay our respects to the fallen Australian diggers who lost their lives during World War One. It was a long weekend, so we left Paris by train on Friday to stay at Amiens. After only a few short hours we arrive at this very pleasant city. Everything was very clean and tidy and there was clearly plenty of civic pride evident. In the centre of the city is Notre Dame Cathedral, which is not quite as famous as it’s namesake in Paris, but is statistically larger and in our opinion more impressive. From here we hop into a taxi for the short trip out of town to Villers Bretonneax and dropped off at the Australian War Memorial that sits on the crest of the rolling hills outside the tiny town. On this site many of our young lads lost their lives as they halted the German advance on Amiens. It remains a pilgrimage destination for many Australians, so not surprisingly we start to hear some Australian accents from those wandering through the rows of headstones. We talked to a lovely couple, who had travelled from Queensland and were moved to tears with discovery of the resting place of a great uncle. The memorial is beautifully maintained and despite the ravages of the Second World War (evident by the bullet holes that still remain on the central tower) it stands proudly as a testament to the enduring bond between Australia and France forged through battle. Similarly this is evident in the township itself with several streets named after Australian cities. We even have coffee at Le Cafe Melbourne before visiting the Franco-Australian museum, which is set above the local schoolhouse built from the donations of Australian school children in the post war period. Looking at the old photos of the area after the devastation of war is quite a sobering experience, but the efforts of our soldiers to rebuild this tiny town makes us proud to be Australian. Amongst the many exhibits was a small bible that had been borrowed (possibly for spiritual comfort) from the local church in 1918 and taken back to Australia by a young surviving soldier. In an accompanying letter written many years later the soldier had felt so badly about taking it that he organised to have it sent back. Such is the respect for a town that it is increasingly being recognised for being as historically significant as Gallipoli.

Sampling the Monaco Lifestyle

While touring the south of France, Jules and I had planned to head over the border to visit one of the smallest countries in the world, Monaco. We were familiar with this place for two main reasons…the much-publicised marriage of Grace Kelly to Prince Rainier and the Monaco Grand Prix, which was annually telecast in Australia in the early hours of the morning. We were also aware that this place was regarded as the playground of the wealthy, who were understandably attracted to the region both for it’s climate and the fact that Monaco has no personal income taxes!

So on a wonderfully sunny day, we hopped on a train from Nice and within half an hour we were there. Emerging from the station we were immediately reminded that it was indeed Grand Prix time, with temporary stands being set up all around the major streets and foreshore. The big race was only one week away and there was plenty of activity to be observed. We immediately decided to walk the racetrack, something we were very familiar with from those telecasts, only to find that what television doesn’t quite convey is the steepness of the terrain. Our admiration of those drivers went up a notch when we saw first hand the narrowness of the streets and the tightness of the curves. We headed past the famed Casino Royale and down the hill toward the coastline and the familiar motorway tunnel that runs parallel. As is tradition at this time of the year in Monaco, they hold a Classic Car Grand Prix as a warm up event for the Formula One race so we were able to walk down toward the pits to watch the owner/drivers preparing for their weekend race. Unlike for the F1’s, the public are quite welcome and despite the fact that we are not at all ‘petrol heads’ we quite enjoyed inspecting their wonderfully expensive toys as if we knew something about racing.

Over at the marina it is similarly busy, with boats from all over the world taking up prime positions. Well, they were not really boats in the normal sense, more like floating mansions; often several stories high and complete with jacuzzi. Each seemed to have a large crew either polishing the brass or hosing down the deck, with many from Australia, judging by their accents. The owners and guests were easy to distinguish by their white trousers, suntans and lavish display of jewelry. This seemed to be quite a common look amongst the ‘beautiful people’ of Monaco and as we walked around, admiring the countless exotic cars, it all seemed disturbingly perfect. There just didn’t seem to be too many ‘everyday’ folk living here, everyone appeared to have either just stepped out of a glossy magazine or off the set of a James Bond movie!

For a broader vantage point, we again headed upward, following a rocky ridge to one of the highest spots in Monaco that provides the best view of the city and marina. Not surprisingly it was the location of the Royal Palace, which is not an overly grand building, but nonetheless had all the usual trappings, including large cannons and immaculately dressed guards complete with sky blue pith helmets. Here the main parade square was lined with traditionally styled colonial buildings that appeared to have been painstakingly restored. Upon closer inspection, there seemed to be a sense of ‘manufactured oldness’ about them that gave the scene an almost theme park quality. Much like many of the local residents, it all looked a little too perfect to be true. Although being quite beautiful in itself, we felt that the area surrounding the Palace didn’t look historically believable. Perhaps, the angles were simply too straight, the windows were too much in alignment or that there wasn’t a crack to be seen! Monaco had turned out to be pretty much what we thought it might be, a very beautiful and picturesque playground for the rich and famous! However, what had really surprised us was our reaction to it. Rather than being envious of their lifestyle, we felt distinctively out of step with it all. It was not just the obvious wealth, but rather the apparent superficial nature of life there. To us it had tended to lack much of the character we had found in many of the towns in France. While Monaco appeared to be perfect, the truth is that the rest of the world isn’t. We had realized that sometimes it is diversity, age and the imperfections of life that create the unfathomable characteristics that make a place unique. It's something that simply can’t be bought.

Time in Toulouse

The airlines are grounded due to the huge volcanic eruption in Iceland, but that won’t affect us, as we are off to Toulouse by train. Toulouse, or to be more specific the nearby town of Albi, is the birth place of the artist Henri Toulouse-Lautrec who has been the topic of many a history lesson in my art classes. Leaving Montparnasse station it only takes us a few hours to arrive at the ‘pink city’ as Toulouse is often referred, due to the frequent use of pale red terracotta brickwork on most of it’s early buildings. One of the most prominent buildings is La Basilique Saint Sernin, which is conveniently opposite our hotel and provides a spectacular view particularly at night when it is lit up like a Christmas tree, which just happens to be similar to it’s shape. There are many other wonderful buildings here that date back to the eleventh and twelfth century. The city itself is a lovely place to wander the narrow lanes that lead to a wide flowing river. There you can see structures such as Pont Neuf and Dome De La Grave, which are very reminiscent of Italy…great for drawing. There is also Foundation Bemburg, which is a fabulous private eclectic collection of art, housed in a beautifully restored residence. Our aim is to eventually get to visit the town of Albi but although we have dodged the plane disruptions we can’t avoid a typically French phenomenon…the train strike! This, compounded with me catching a heavy cold, sees us restricted just to Toulouse, but that is fine as it’s a nice place to just sit in the plaza (or place) and watch the world go by.

Stepping into Cezanne’s studio

Arriving in Aix en Provence, Jules and I are immediately struck by the beauty of this southern French township. It has all of the things you imagine a French provincial village might have …classic architecture, stately fountains and quaint cobblestone laneways. In short, it’s a pretty nice place to live! With that in mind, it is not totally surprising that the great Post-Impressionist painter Paul Cezanne (who was born here in 1839) chose to live and work here throughout his life. The building that housed his original studio can be found in the centre of town, although little evidence remains except a small plaque on the wall. However, his final studio still remains and can be viewed pretty much in its original state. The studio was built 1901, once his status as an important Modernist had been established. Cezanne chose a nice patch of land, high on a hillside overlooking the little township, while also catching the distant view of Mont Sainte Victoire (the subject of many his paintings). After a short walk out of town and up the hill, we found it hidden away amongst the suburbs, which have long since engulfed the area. This is so different to the early photos that we later view, when Cezanne’s studio stood very much alone amongst olive fields. As we enter the gates we are suddenly transformed back to Cezanne’s time, stepping into his rambling garden, which was very much loved by the artist. The studio stands as it did in his day and is a relatively modest two storey stone building. Following Cezanne’s death, it was locked away for many years and so today remains very much as it was toward the end of his life. We make our way up the stairs to the studio itself and notice Cezanne’s bowler hat and coat still hanging in the same place the master artist had left them over a hundred years ago. Large north facing studio windows allow natural light to flood into the room, which is filled with familiar objects, so often seen in Cezanne’s later still-life paintings. Today, the masterpieces are gone…tucked away safely in national galleries around the world. While the studio itself, now quite sparse and humble in appearance, still remains a significant place as it was witness to the birth of many great works. It is also a room that attracted many famous visitors. Some of them prominent artists of the day such as Matisse and Picasso, but also in later years less anticipated figures such as the likes of Marilyn Monroe. Even today and despite the many thousands of visitors, the studio has a particularly calm and tranquil feel and on a warm summers day it is not to difficult to imagine how Cezanne became so inspired. The colours and the clear air remain, as does the special charm of southern France and in particular, Aix en Provence.

Stepping into the World of Gaudi

The most unique and original architect of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries was not an American, Frenchman or Italian, but rather a Spaniard called Antonio Gaudi. To be precise, he was a Catalonian (a citizen of Northern Spain), which is a fact that you are often reminded about when walking around Barcelona. In any case, he was a remarkable designer, both in the creativity of his vision and the scale of his endeavors. Having studied many of his buildings as a significant part of my Art History course, I was finally going to see them for myself, while Jules was going to be introduced to him for the very first time.

The great thing about Barcelona is that many of its most famous attractions are within walking distance from the city centre, so on a fine sunny day we began our pilgrimage to Gaudi’s most famous domestic dwellings. ‘Casa Batilo’ is a remodeled apartment building that must have astounded its owners when it was completed at the beginning of the twentieth century. The locals affectionately refer to it as ‘the house of bones’ because of its organic nature, resulting in window structures and balcony forms taking on an almost skeletal quality. It is an amazing combination of colourful mosaic, flowing lines and ornate ceramic shapes, that are interwoven into what can only be described as a wonderful piece of ‘fantasy architecture’. However, the building that really saw Gaudi recognized as one of the new breed of art nouveau modernists can be found close by and its called ‘Casa Mila’. It is a much larger building than Casa Batilo and reflected the ongoing development of Gaudi’s organic style, combined effectively with the use of stone and wrought iron. There is not a straight line to be seen in this building and it is crowned with a rooftop of the most amazing chimney designs that you’re ever likely to see.

The intricate and fantastic nature of Gaudi’s designs often resulted in some quite extended building times. Such was the case with the large garden complex of ‘Guell Park’ that took fourteen years to complete. Despite being a little out from the town centre, Jules and I found that it was well worth tracking down, as not only was it a wonderfully imaginative example of Gaudi designs, but it also provided some of the best views of Barcelona. As we entered, people were lining up to be photographed next to the amazing mosaic dragon fountain that welcomes you before making the climb up the grand stairs. There is a nice atmosphere with guitarists playing and lots of kids on school excursions clearly excited to be there. We take a rambling trail to the upper level, passing through grotto-like structures as we go, to eventually rest on the multi-coloured mosaic seats to admire the view. This is certainly one of the most unique and pleasurable parks we have ever visited and we can well understand the time taken to build it.

Yet its construction time pales into insignificance compared to Gaudi’s greatest achievement, ‘Sagrada Familia’, the basilica church that dominates the Barcelona skyline. When building commenced in 1882, even Gaudi couldn’t have imagined that it would have remained incomplete to this day. Such is the detail and intricacy of Gaudi’s planning that despite steady ongoing construction for over a century, it is still anticipated that it will not be fully finished until 2026. As you can imagine, it is a church like no other and not surprisingly it has already been granted world heritage status despite remaining incomplete. What I particularly liked about it was the many whimsical features that could be seen at closer viewing. From the fruit bowl mosaic spires, to the turtles carrying the weight of its enormous columns, such decorative features tend to lighten the tone of the buildings sombre religious mood, reinforced by the countless chiseled statues that surround it. Each time the scaffolding is removed it reveals yet more aspects of Gaudi’s fertile imagination and the scope of his vision for this Barcelona icon.

Gaudi justifiably remains one of Barcelona’s favourite sons. His designs are unique to this day and like no other, his buildings have put an undeniable stamp on this city. While his designs are not to everyone’s taste, they remain totally individual and for anyone interested in design and architecture, his works are certainly a must see. Stepping into a Gaudi design is like entering into another world and it is difficult to imagine how such expressive designs could ever be built today.

Brilliant Barcelona!

One of the places that continued to be mentioned as a place we must visit was the Spanish city of Barcelona. From Paris it’s an overnight run by train, which we boarded with much anticipation at 8.00pm. Being quite an old train, the sleeper could have been a little more comfortable, but we eventually arrive safely in Barcelona at 8.30 am. Despite its size the city was relatively quiet and an over night down pour had left the streets glistening as the sun broke through for a new day. This was considerably different from the grey skies and cold days we had only yesterday left behind in Paris.

 We walked to our hotel, which was nicely positioned on the most popular street in town, Las Ramblas. From here we would later enjoy all of the daily action of this wide and leafy boulevard, with its numerous souvenir stalls and plenty of street performers (well, if you can call standing like a statue a performance). These interesting characters seemed to be positioned every few metres and came in all forms … everything from Edward Scissorhands through to a man disguised as a human pot plant! Each seemed to have a steady stream of tourists eager to have their photograph taken alongside them, for a small donation of course. In any case, it all seemed to add to the relaxed and happy nature of Las Ramblas, which made it such an inviting place and with Sangria in hand, it was certainly a great place for us to soak up the atmosphere of this bustling city.

As with most cities we visit, Jules is always keen to seek out the best places for food and it wasn’t too long before we found ourselves in the local market (Mercat de La Boqueria) with its delicious assortment of fresh produce, much of which would find its way into the many surrounding tapas bars, which we also thought was our culinary duty to explore. Back on the streets, we marveled at the range of interesting architecture that can be experienced around every corner. Of course the famous Gaudi buildings are legendary, but there are also some wonderful architectural delights that reveal the cities diverse architectural past. We were amazed to discover that Barcelona has its very own Arc de Triomf, which is far less formal than the one in Paris, but no less impressive. A favorite area was Barri Gotic, which is the centre of the old city of Barcelona and is a wonderful labyrinth of narrow cobblestone streets and tall medieval buildings. This is the Gothic quarter of the city with plenty of charm and character. On one of the days we were there, a cool wind was sweeping through so we headed to the nearby Placa Reial, which would provide a warm and sheltered haven. The square is like a little piece of paradise with it’s palm trees and ornate street lamps, all surrounded by a beautiful arched façade … simply a perfect place to sit in one of the cafés, sip a coffee and sketch, which is exactly what we did!

Over the years, Barcelona has been the venue for some notable world events. The 1992 Summer Olympics certainly provided the city with a number of modern structures and stadiums as well as a wonderfully clean and efficient underground train system. This enabled us to move easily around the city and we even went as far a field as to visit Montserrat in the rugged mountains surrounding Barcelona. Earlier events such as the World Exposition of 1923 had also created a number of significant landmarks. From Placa Espanya we ventured passed two large and distinctive towers to view what remains from the event. For me, the Barcelona Pavilion by Mies Van Der Rohe was a building I had really wanted to see and it certainly didn’t disappoint. The building was originally part of the German section of the exhibition and represented new modernist (led by the Bauhaus) developments in architecture. Over 80 years after the event, it still remains one of the world’s greatest and most influential buildings with it attention to minimalism and stylistic purity. While the Spanish Pavilion is far more traditional, it still exists and was designed to represent regional styles of the period. Today it provides an important centre for local arts and crafts, with many practitioners working directly on sight and we particularly enjoyed wandering around and viewing the artists at work in their studio and picking up the odd piece.

Our time in Barcelona passed so quickly and we could well understand why so many people had recommended this city to us. The local Catalonians had been so welcoming and despite it’s size, we had found it to be a very relaxed metropolis, with so much to offer … and we had only begun to scratch the surface! It remains one of our favorite cities and our voices are certainly added to the chorus of people who continue to sing its praises.

Lighting up the streets of Valletta

Flying into the tiny island of Malta, I am immediately struck with it’s similarity to Greece with it’s rocky dry landscape and white classically styled houses that can be seen perched on the largely treeless hillside. This is not totally surprising because although there are greater geographic connections to Sicilian Italy, there are also strong historic and cultural links to Greece. However, that is where it ends, as the islanders remain proudly Maltese, forged from an eclectic collection of influences that also includes North Africa and colonial Britain. As a result of more recent historical connections, English has joined Maltese as the dominant languages spoken throughout the island, which subsequently attracts hordes of sun seeking visitors from the UK each year. This has been terrific for the local economy, but tourism has come at a price. Over time it has transformed sleepy fishing villages such as St. Julian’s into garish centres for nightlife, with countless clubs, bars, casinos and restaurants lining the narrow streets. While this further enhances the attraction of the island to the young crowd, for me the nearby capital of Valletta remains a far more appealing place to explore, with its wonderfully stylish Baroque and Neo-classical architecture. Being a world heritage site, it is justifiably a beautiful and historic city; despite the every increasing demands of tourism that is constantly threatening to change it’s character (with three times more visitors to the island each year than actual residents). The fortress and waterfront area of the city is particularly attractive with views of the harbour that can be admired while eating delicious Mediterranean cuisine at the numerous cafes and restaurants that line the docks. However, the old town remains the most appealing, with its grand buildings and historic laneways of residences that overhang the streets with their ornate wooden balconies.

As the sun set on a brisk November night in Malta (well outside the regular tourist season), music could be heard in the distance as bands began to rally in the streets to join an annual parade that would celebrated the Christmas lights being switched on. This was quite a unique experience for a visitor, as within no time at all local folk had emerged from their houses to line the route and follow the parade. The music and enthusiasm of the crowd swept everyone along. They clapped and cheered enthusiastically as they walked through an impressive pathway of lights that were strung overhead leading toward the centre of town. The normally quiet streets of Valetta had suddenly been transformed into a celebration of light, music and Maltese tradition, set against some pretty unique architecture…quite special!

Crossing the Alps into Zurich

After several days of enjoying the delights of Montreux, we are off to Zurich, following the ‘Golden Pass’ railway journey through the picturesque Swiss Alps. What a scenic delight … it’s like being a part of a giant model railway with its picture perfect landscape that has not a blade of grass out of place. As we peer out the window, we see stunning mountains dotted with Swiss Chalet’s and perfectly groomed cows complete with shiny brass bells hanging around their necks.

Eventually the spectacular landscape begins to give way to the familiar sights of a big city as we change trains at a town called Wiessman then head toward Zurich. Of course the city of Zurich is now a major European metropolis, but the centre of the old town hints of how it might have been several centuries ago. It’s now one of the best locations for shopping and indulging in a wide range of culinary sensations. It’s here we taste some traditional Swiss fondue for the first time and later lunch at the Odeon Bar, which was once the favorite haunt of famous figures such as Lenin, Mussolini and James Joyce. We both really enjoyed the atmosphere of Zurich, reminding us of Melbourne with its network of trams that take you all around the city. However, for the best view of Zurich we boarded the funicular to the ‘Polyterraisse’, which is an open air courtyard adjoining the university. From here we admire the old town and it’s winding river surrounded by its classic architecture. Returning to ground level, I head off to ‘The Kunsthaus’ (art gallery) while Jules can’t resist the shopping at the’Bahnhofstrasse’, which is said to provide over a kilometer of ‘retail therapy’. The lovely thing about Zurich is that it is all so compact and after a short walk I am enjoying a wonderful exhibition of Seurat drawings … it’s all very inspirational!

Just when I think that Zurich can’t get any better, Jules provides the ‘piece de resistance’ by organising tickets to the 50th anniversary concert of Miles Davis’ classic jazz LP ‘Kind of Blue’ (our all time favorite record). The celebration of this album nicely coincides with my own 50th birthday, so the timing is just perfect! Headed by the legendary drummer Jimmy Cobb who is the last of the remaining members of the Miles’ 1959 band, it is a rare treat to hear indeed. He had carefully selected the musicians, which includes Wallace Roney, who was the only trumpeter to be personally mentored by Miles Davis until his death in 1991. Needless to say it was a simply fantastic concert … certainly the best jazz performance I have ever seen!

Apart from some slightly grey weather, our time in Zurich had been perfect! We found it to be a city with so much to offer. It had clearly adapted well with the times and had somehow managed to strike a happy balance between it’s historical past and the needs of a modern urban city. In more ways than one it will always remain one of our most memorable, not only as a destination, but also the journey getting there.

Inspirations from Montreux

Although never having visited Montreux before, it was a place that I had long heard about. This was not through travel books or TV documentaries but through music. First it was through the lyrics of 70’s group ‘Deep Purple’ who sung about it in the rock anthem ‘Smoke on the Water’ and later through the countless jazz recordings from concerts at the famed Montreux Jazz Festival. It was a mysterious place of which I had no visual images in my head that I could draw upon. So when the train from Geneva pulled into the station, both Jules and I were amazed at the sheer beauty of the surrounding area.

We had arrived in autumn and the leaves had turned a brilliant range of shades from bright yellow to deep red, adding to a stunning vista looking out toward the lake and rugged snow capped mountains beyond. It was now the end of the tourist season and the town itself was somewhat quiet. The famed Jazz festival (one of the largest in the world) had come and gone for another year (July) and many of the hotels, including ours were relatively empty. Although I would have dearly loved to have attended the festival itself, in many ways this was possibly the best time to see the quiet side of Montreux; not only for the stunning leaves, but simply to enjoy the place much as locals do throughout the year. It is truly a beautiful place with crisp clean air and as you look around you can well understand why many notables such as Noel Coward, Dame Joan Sutherland and Freddie Mercury chose to make their home here. In fact, as we walked alongside the mirror-like lake, we come across a life size statue in tribute to the ‘Queen’ front man, posed in full performance mode, such was the regard they had for him in this picturesque town. Further along the lakefront is the famed convention centre with a small park that contains numerous tributes to the many jazz artists who have performed here since it began in 1967. The great Miles Davis played here no less than eight times, as did other legends such as Ella Fitzgerald, Bill Evans, Dizzy Gillespie and Les McCann.

Back at the eastern end of the lake is one of the most picturesque castles that you could ever hope to see. Chillon Castle looks as if it’s an apparition directly out of a fairy tale. Jutting out from the shoreline and positioned almost in the lake itself, this 12th century chateau is quite something to behold, with its wonderful medieval spires of varying heights. Jules and I donned an ipod head set and spent ages just wandering around the labyrinth of rooms and passageways, learning about its fascinating history. The noted English poet Lord Byron had done a similar thing back in the early 1800’s and in the dungeon we found the pillar on which he had carved his name. The castle and indeed the dungeon itself would provide inspiration for one of his most celebrated works, ‘The Prisoner of Chillon’ (1816). During his travels around Lake Geneva, Byron was accompanied by the writer Mary Shelley who was likely to have also found inspiration here for her classic novel ‘Frankenstein’ (1818).

Like many others who have visited Montreux, we both felt that this was a very special place and could well understand how it had energized so many artists, musicians and writers. As we sat on a bench eating our Swiss ice-cream, there was little to be done than to just take it all in.

The Magnificence of Versailles

One of the great things about visiting or indeed living in Paris is the opportunity to access some of the most beautiful public buildings imaginable. Many of which are surrounded with a wealth of historical, architectural and cultural significance. With that in mind, none could be regarded as any more significant in France than Versailles. This was the stunningly opulent palace built by Louis X1V and would eventually become a central location in the story of the French revolution. Sitting just a short train ride outside of Paris, it is easily accessible and well worth the journey. Our first encounter with the grand building was when we trekked to see it with ‘Fat Tire Bike Tours’, who conduct regular trips by rail. After a short train journey, we unload the bikes and then we were off to the local market to pick up the mandatory supplies of cheese, bread and wine before our leisurely ride through the town and onward to the Palace of Versailles. We entered the vast grounds from a rear entrance and were immediately struck by the scale and beauty of the gardens. We then pedalled along the ‘Grand Lake’ to take up a picnic spot at the far end, looking back toward the grand palace. This was apparently a favourite location of Marie Antoinette who would often picnic here. You can certainly see why, with it’s vast view of the magnificently wide canal that was once the setting for numerous nautical spectacles. Along the banks are row upon row of box shaped trees that heighten the perspective and leads the eye toward the palace. This style of tree pruning represented the sixteenth century ideology of the mastery of man over nature, but causes much debate between Jules and myself…I tend to like them and Jules does not, preferring trees to remain in their natural shape! Nonetheless, it is fair to say that Versailles certainly makes a bold statement about ‘the haves and the have nots’ in France, a fact that would eventually spark a sweeping revolution throughout the country. This is further reinforced when walking around the palace itself, with rooms such as the famed ‘Hall of Mirrors’ providing an insight into the sheer wealth and indulgence of the monarchy of the day. Yet despite it’s chequered past, the French remain immensely proud of Versailles and regard it as a high point of their artistic and cultural history. This was particularly evident later in the year when we were invited by some French friends to their home near Versailles for Sunday lunch. At the conclusion of our meal, they kindly offered to take us a short distance to the palace for a late afternoon stroll. We actually entered near ‘The Petit Trianon’, which was Marie Antoinette’s private chateau that sits close to her own little village where she could enjoy simple rural indulgences away from the grandeur and formality of Versailles. By the time we arrived the tourists were beginning to leave and we could enjoy the grounds and the magnificence of her salmon coloured chateaux quite alone. It was very different than other areas within Versailles, with its slightly more modest scale and sense of seclusion. Apparently the Queen spared no cost in designing it to her own distinctive taste that tended to favour a more ‘English’ style of architecture and garden. It is still a very grand affair, but far more appealing than the 'big house'. As the sun began to set on a beautiful clear winters day, the scene was amazingly beautiful. We could sense our friends patriotic pride, but they didn’t say a lot…they didn’t have to! It certainly was a memorable moment for us and as we walked around the grounds, in the footsteps of Marie Antoinette, we both recognised that it is places like Versailles that make France such special place to visit.

Lingering at the Louvre

For an Art teacher, there is simply no other place to experience some of the most wonderful and iconic artworks of the past than in Paris. There are just so many great galleries, but of course one immediately springs to mind … ‘The Louvre’ (or the Musée du Louvre to give its official title). With our friend Daryl in town, it was high on his list of places to visit and although Jules and I had been before, we had truly only begun to scratch the surface of its vast collection of fine art. This former royal palace that hugs the right bank of the Seine is a lavishly ornate 16th century building that houses one of the largest collections of fine art and antiquities in the world.

Walking through Tuileries Garden late in the afternoon, we couldn’t help but be impressed by the grandeur of its architecture that domininates the Parisian streetscape. Yet in more recent times, it is the modern glass pyramid entrance (designed by I.M.Pei in 2002) that has certainly become the most recognizable external feature of the museum. Despite its initial controversy for not being in keeping with the renaissance style of the building, it is now claimed that since its construction, annual attendance to the Louvre has actually doubled. Its notoriety was further enhanced in 2003 when it emerged as a significant element of the ‘Da Vinci Code’ book and subsequent movie. This has further added to the huge number of tours that seem to centre around the Louvre on a daily basis. In fact, if you’re not careful it’s quite easy to be trampled by bikes, Segway vehicles and tourist groups led by flag carrying guides who constantly pass in and out of the area. If all this can be avoided, it’s possible to admire a most impressive view of the city directly through the Place de Concorde, along the Champs-Élysées toward the Arch de Triomphe and beyond…quite something!

Upon entering the Louvre by heading down through the glass pyramid, we were faced with the big decision of what to view. There is just so much to see that an initial plan of attack seemed the best way to make use of our limited time, as you could quite literally spend days in the museum and not see it all. The works on show in the Louvre cover everything from the cultures of Egypt, Greece and Rome through to the great works of pre and post Revolutionary France and beyond. Yet there is one particular piece of Italian renaissance painting that dominates the entire collection of 35,000 works, although in comparison to many pieces on show, it is a relatively diminutive piece of 77 x 53cm. Leonardo Da Vinci’s ‘Mona Lisa’ is the one they all come to see and crowds of two or three deep can be seen around the work at any given time. While it’s debatable whether the hype behind the piece matches the reality, it was certainly nice to see it up close, although I was equally impressed with other nearby works by Leonardo that seemed to get very little attention. Another popular piece was Greece’s most famous sculpture, ‘Venus Di Milo’ which is probably more famous for her lack of arms than the artist who created it (believed to be Alexandros of Antioch). It is possibly one of the most parodied artworks ever and as a result, has become a favorite of the general public. We ended up spending much of our time looking at the enormous paintings (both in scale and number) from the 19th century French revolutionary period, which included the ‘Coronation of Napoleon’ (1807) by David, which is a massive 5.2 x9.7 metres in size. However, I particularly enjoyed Delacroix’s smaller but more iconic work of ‘Liberty Leading the People’ (1830), which is believed to have provided the inspiration for Victor Hugo’s classic novel Le Miserables.

While there were some late 19th century works that hinted of the birth of the ‘Belle Epoche’ (the ‘Beautiful Era’ from 1890 -1914), the Louvre essentially continues to display the ‘Royal Collection’ and earlier works. Most of its 20th century pieces moved to Musée d'Orsay in 1986 and such was the vastness of it’s collection that today it still seems endless. It is certainly one of those places that you can explore again and again and never really quite see it all.

' Liberty Leading the People' by David

The Pompidou … Gallery of the People!

One of the great joys of living in Paris is having some of the world’s most famous art museums at your doorstep. Of course the Louvre and Musee de Orsay are justifiably the most popular amongst the tourists, but no less impressive is the Pompidou Centre and after several visits, it still remains one of my favorites. This was not entirely anticipated, as, like many Parisians who viewed this centre of contemporary art with initial suspicion, I was also a little wary of this strange industrial structure that had inexplicably landed in the 4th arrondissement in the 1970’s like something from outer space.

It must have been quite a shock when the designs for this highly anticipated building were initially revealed to the French public. Not only were the winners of the international design competition foreign (Italian architects Renzo Piano and Gianfranco Franchini, and Richard Rogers from Britain), but also the design they proposed was such a radical departure from any other building in Paris as to totally alienate itself from all historical ties to the city. Not since the building of the Eiffel Tower in 1889 would a structure cause such consternation and derision, yet the ‘Beaubourg’ as it was known at the time, would continue to be built, championed the country’s president, Georges Pompidou. The result was a radically complex multi-level form that effectively would see the traditional notion of a building literally turned inside out. With its exposed structural skeleton combined with a spaghetti-like maze of multi-coloured electrical and air-conditioning ducts, it appeared to be the ultimate celebration of function over aesthetics. While I still can’t honestly say that it is one of my favorite pieces of architecture, it’s significance as a post-modernist icon has to be acknowledged. Despite initial public criticisms, it proceeded to change our perception of public architecture. Although Modernism had done little to change many of the elitist notions of what an art gallery might be, the design of the Pompidou Centre had successfully signaled a new egalitarian approach to the arts that can be clearly seen today.

The first time Jules and I visited, we were immediately struck by how the building was squeezed within the traditional period buildings of the neighborhood. Surprisingly, there are few surrounding grassed areas, but rather paved spaces that could be adapted for a range of public uses. When we were there, we were amazed to find dozens of young people scribbling on the ground with chalk. Clearly this was some sort of organized event, but it was difficult to see exactly what was being achieved. Nonetheless, there was much laughter and enjoyment from the simple indulgence of making colourful marks in a prominent public space on a warm Sunday afternoon. Similarly the nearby Stravinsky Fountain (designed by Jean Tinguely) was another colourful reminder of the fun and relaxed nature of the area that surrounds the Pompidou Centre. This is a youthful space that encourages spontaneous art in all its forms; be it artists, musicians, jugglers, mime acts or dancers … they all seem to congregate around this Parisian landmark.

Traveling our way upward through the Perspex domed escalator that is attached to the outside of the Pompidou, we are provided with wonderful views across the suburbs of Paris … a bonus! We head straight to the third level (the highest point) to inspect a major exhibition of the work of Alexander Calder and as we step into a wide open area, we are immediately struck by the contrast of the minimalist interior to the visual chaos of the buildings exterior cladding. In the gallery it seems, the buildings architecture takes a back seat to the importance of the art itself and despite the large crowds, there seemed to be a distinct sense of light and space. It was simply one of the nicest places to view art and over the next few months we would visit several times to attend major exhibitions by Kandinsky and Freud, as well as continuing to examine it’s impressive permanent collection.

The architects of the Pompidou Centre were originally given the brief to create a building that would promote the popular notion of artistic, social and cultural exchange and to that end, they certainly achieved their goals. While it created much controversy in its day, the building and its surrounding spaces are now a welcome haven for all forms of popular culture and as a result, is constantly alive with activity. While the Louvre and the many other galleries and museums of Paris tend to celebrate the past in a more academic and austere manner, the Pompidou provides a youthful approach to the arts that is somehow quite irresistable. This was particularly reinforced as we took the escalator downward after our visit and looked to where we had earlier seen kids marking the pavement with chalks. Their task was now almost complete and we were both quite stunned by the colourful floor mural that had collectively been created throughout the afternoon. While it was more than likely that this enormous work of art would be washed away with the next shower of rain, they had clearly valued the experience of making art in this collaborative way. Indeed it is doubtful whether such an activity would have been undertaken anywhere else in Paris other than here. The Pompidou is truly a place in which both permanent and transient art forms are equally valued as legitimate artifacts of a creative culture. It remains ‘a gallery of the people’ and much like its architecture it is influenced by the contemporary rather than the conventions of the past.