The Great Japanese Rooftop Barbeque

With the hot summer nights there is nothing better to an Aussie than a good old-fashioned barbeque. There is something quite primeval about sitting around an open flame with a drink in hand, enjoying a balmy evening while cooking fresh raw meat! At this point I must apologise to my vegetarian friends who will be cringing with contempt as they look forward to their carrot stick lunch. However, whether they like it or not, the barbeque remains one of the most satisfying of culinary experiences that is happily enjoyed by us carnivores. To our surprise, here in Japan the home-style barbeque is generally a pretty rare experience. Not because the Japanese dislike cooked meat, quite the contrary, but simply because most live in apartments that understandably prevent any kind of open air cooking. However, not to be deterred they have invented numerous ways in which the humble barbeque can be enjoyed, one of which is what Jules and I simply refer to as the ‘rooftop barbie’!

In Osaka this event is referred to as a ‘beer garden’ and is so popular that you need to book weeks, if not months, in advance to reserve a spot on top of one of the city’s many high-rise buildings. Once making it to the rooftop, the elevator doors open to what can only be described as an over-scaled ‘simulated backyard’ complete with rows of tables each with mini ‘hibachi style’ barbeques. There is fake grass and the usual temporary seats that you might find at your local backyard function, such as the classic ‘white plastic stackable’ and the ‘strappy fold-out’ variety. Like many of Japans large group eating establishments, it is an all you can eat and drink affair. You are given a set time limit, so patrons are encouraged to get there early in their best barbeque attire to fire up their cooker and enjoy the endless amount of food and drink on offer. With plates in hand, you head around to various ‘stations’ to collect the freshly cut seafood and raw meat. This tends to be quite thinly cut, as is the Japanese preference, so it takes only a couple of minutes before it is cooked. Of course there are many accompaniments available too, including the odd bit of salad if that is your choice, but it is the ritual of cooking meat and seafood in the open air that the locals primarily come to experience, not to mention the many large jugs of beer that inevitably wash it all down.

The atmosphere high above the city rooftops is quite unique, with thousands of fairy lights draped all around, accompanying the more impressive lights of the big city beyond. High on a wall is a projector, beaming out drive-in sized images of the latest local sporting events, however nobody really seems to be watching it as they are more intent upon keeping an eye on their sizzling meat. Once all the barbeques are in full swing, there is a steady cloud of smoke drifting high into the night sky, while there is a ground swell of boisterous conversation that continues to increase with the arrival of yet more jugs of the amber fluid.

Several hours later and at the designated time, the tune ‘Old Lang Syne’ is played from overhead speakers, which is the not so subtle hint that the crowd should eat their last morsel, drink up and leave. Inevitably by this stage of the night the rooftop party is well and truly in full swing and despite being the only ‘gaijins’ (foreigners) at this mammoth communal barbeque, our group has by now struck up a conversation with one of the Japanese groups on the next table who are curious about our origins and have now drunk enough beer to ask. It is all very friendly and indicative of the happy atmosphere of the evening that continues to bring people of all ages back during the summer months. While such venues are temporary and only last for about four months each year, they have in recent years become a roaring success, enabling the locals to experience something that we in Australia tend to take for granted. While it may be a relatively new phenomenon over here, we found the whole experience to be actually very close to the traditional Aussie ‘beer garden’. Indeed through such annual events, barbeque cooking in Japan certainly remains alive and well, adding to Osaka’s reputation for their love of all forms of cooking and of course, good times!

In Search for the Best ‘Vanilla Slice’ Ever!

Over the last few years, friends and family have been under the misguided impression that we have spent our time away from Australia purely sightseeing. I must confess that this is not entirely true, as in fact we have been undertaking some quite serious research by scouring the world to find the perfect ‘Vanilla Slice’! Well, in all fairness to Jules, I have to state that it has been my quest really, as I have tended to eat most of these delicious custard filled slices of heaven in the various places we have visited.

The strange thing is that as I child, I wasn’t particularly fond of this particular cake, which is still colloquially referred to in Australia as a ‘snot block’. They would sell them in the school canteen and more often than not, they would sit in an open tray in a warm room for several hours, attracting the flies and ensuring that the over-yellowed custard filling would stiffen to become a coagulated block of jelly. However, my impression was to dramatically change several years later when what was referred to as ‘Bavarian Slice’ was served to me at a Christmas function in Adelaide. Apart from the name change, it was essentially the same cake, but this time the vanilla custard was smooth and creamy, the puff pastry was crisp yet not too dry and it was topped with a perfect coating of white icing…absolutely delicious! I asked where the cake had come from, but nobody knew anything other than the name, which was assumed had some sort of Germanic connection. I guess that is where the search began and over the next few years, when ever we passed a local bakery we would pop in, in the hope that I might re-discover that delicious custard slice, whatever it’s name might be.

I wouldn’t like to call it a fixation, but this ‘interest’ of mine has seen Jules and I exploring many bakeries from all over Australia and in more recent times worldwide. We have tasted all kinds of variations over the years including different types of custards, consistency of pastry or subtlties of icing and in some cases, the inclusion of jam. Recently we finally made it to the region of Bavaria, not that we came here especially to look for the elusive slice, but it was certainly on my ‘things to do’ list in both Germany and Austria. Here we discovered that what we knew as a ‘Vanilla Slice’ in Australia was referred to in these parts as a ‘Cream Slice’ or a ‘Creme Schnitte’. It turns out that the term ‘Bavarian Slice’ was actually a term given to the slice in England, where it remains as popular as in Australia and as a result of immigration, it may explain why it sometimes goes by that name.

No matter what name the slice goes by, it’s certainly not a pretty cake to eat, with custard oozing out the sides with every bite, eventually leaving you with cream all over your face and sticky hands from the icing. I must admit that I probably indulged in far too many ‘Cream Schnittes’ on our recent trip, but it’s a thankless task and in the name of research somebody has to do it! So at this stage I think I can reveal my current list of the top six standouts in my quest for the perfect ‘Vanilla Slice’…

 1. Dulwich Bakery Adelaide, Australia – This is our favorite local bakery and still delivers the best ‘Vanilla Slice’ in South Australia and possibly the world!

 2. Cafe Hanselmann St Moritz, Switzerland – Here they refer to it as a ‘Vanilla Cream’ and serve the slice with a layer of puff pastry in the centre and a thin layer of jam…very tasty!

 3. Greenhaigh’s Bakery Wigan, United Kingdom – I must admit that I ate a ‘Bavarian Slice’ here a few years ago, but I fondly remember the vanilla custard being deliciously creamy.

 4. Café Diglas Vienna, Austria – Again served with the puff pastry in the middle, allowing the slice to stand particularly tall, with just a hint of jam.

 5. Schatz-Konditorei Salzburg, Austria – They served a nice ‘Cremeschnitte’ that came with an additional layer of regular cream (although quite unnecessary in my opinion) and very creamy custard.

 6. Demel Pastry Shop, Vienna Austria – Once the purveyor of cakes to the Imperial and Royal court of Austria-Hungary, their ‘Crème Schnitte’ still remains fit for a king despite their preference for a dusting of icing sugar rather than sticky icing!

While I can’t say that I have found the best Vanilla slice in the world quite yet, there have been some pretty impressive contenders. Still the memory of that definitive slice tasted over twenty years ago lingers on and with the passing of time, it seems to get better and better. So the search will continue and by all means if you know of any challengers for the title, please let me know, I would love to put them to the test!

Look here for update.

In the Footsteps of Vienna's Greats

Arriving in Vienna from Salzburg provided quite a contrast. While Salzburg was small and elegant, Vienna provided grandeur on a large scale. Fortunately we were staying in an apartment that was very close to the city centre so we could easily walk around to take it all in and we would certainly do plenty of that over the next few days! There seemed to be no limit to the ornately decorated palaces and public buildings throughout the city, not to mention the countless statues celebrating its many famous citizens. Vienna is a city that would have easily have rivaled Paris in the era of the ‘Belle-Epoch’ and while it doesn’t quite have a definitive landmark attraction such as the Eiffel Tower or Arche de Triomphe, it has an almost overwhelming array of fine buildings that enable it to rightfully lay claim to being of the most beautiful cities in Europe.

With the Baroque styled buildings supplying the backdrop, the stars of Vienna were the many famous people that lived here in the glory days the city. Like Paris it attracted a veritable who’s who of the arts and progressive thinking during he 19th and 20th century. Freud, Nietzsche and Einstein all chose to reside here, developing powerful ideas that would shape the twentieth century. It was also a centre of the new wave of modernist design with the buildings of Wagner and Hoffman shaping new directions in architecture. Musically, the sound track of the city was then and continues to be Mozart and Strauss, who are both honored with major statues in the city gardens. In fact it is difficult to walk anywhere in the city without bumping into a character wearing period costume and a Mozart style wig accosting you to buy a ticket to one of the nightly musical performances of their works. However, it was pleasing to note that currently Vienna’s most celebrated son is not a writer, designer or musician, but an artist… Gustav Klimt! Posters, souvenirs and images of Klimt seemed to be everywhere, coinciding with the 150th anniversary of his birthday. Jules and I visited a fabulous exhibition at the Leopold Museum that provided a wonderful insight into his life and times through not only his paintings, but also letters, documents and photographs. We followed it up with another exhibition at the Upper Belvedere Palace with its wonderful display of Klimt’s most iconic works, including his most highly commercialized piece ‘The Kiss’, which appears on everything from plates to tea towels. Another major Viennese artist, who now achieves far more recognition these days than he did during his short but eventful life, is Egon Schiele. Schiele’s boldly grotesque and often sexually provocative images were particularly popular with students during my art school days in the 70’s, so it was terrific to see many of his best works close up at the Leopold and Albertina Museums.

Spending much of our time in Vienna visiting its seemingly endless collection of galleries, we particularly took a liking to the ‘Artist Quarter’, with it’s unique combination of galleries (of varying scale and specialisation), combined with outdoor areas filled with cafes and restaurants. On a warm summer evening it is a terrific meeting place with its colourful sculptural lounges providing a place to sit back and relax or to listen to music or the occasional guest speaker. A short walk down the road is the iconic ‘Secessionist’ building, which was designed by Joseph Olbrich in the early 1900’s as a exhibition space for Viennese artists who had rejected the restraints of the traditional art academies. This building had so often been the focal point for many of my art history discussions over the years and it was high on my list of places to see. As anticipated we found the exterior very impressive, however the interior was a little less so, as it had lost most of its original features after rebuilding following extensive bombing during World War II. We also found the addition of a bright yellow platform in the basement gallery to view Klimts ‘Beethoven Frieze’ as simply an unnecessary intrusion. Non the less, Jules was more than compensated by the nearby historic market (The Naschmarkt) which offered an huge range of produce, while for me, there was the added bonus of a regular flea market that is held each each Saturday. During our travels Jules has made an ongoing study of produce markets and rated this one quite highly with its extensive range of culinary delicacies.

It had become increasingly apparent that good food was a high priority for the Viennese and we certainly enjoyed some excellent meals during our visit. One of our favorite spots was at the site of the annual Vienna Town Hall Festival, which screens operas in the summer evening and most other times serves an extensive range of culinary dishes at a bargain prices. Despite being totally outdoors we were most impressed that everything was served on china plates or in glasses, making it a far more eloquent experience than most other festivals of this type. Another indulgence that we particularly enjoyed was visiting Vienna’s long established coffee shops to sample some of their most famous cakes…Apple Strudel, Chocolate Sacher Torte and my personal favorite, the Cream Schnitte. These were once the regular indulgences of the great writers, artists, musicians, designers and intellects of Vienna, who would often take a break from the serious business of changing the world to enjoy the simple pleasure of coffee and cake. Much like this grand city, its good to see that certain things have never really changed!

Enjoying the Sights and Sounds of Salzburg

It was a relatively short trip from Munich to Salzburg by train and within a couple of hours of leaving, Jules and I had slipped over the border into Austria and before not too long were walking around its beautiful cobblestone streets. It is quite a small city, surrounded by the sort of lush green hillsides that made it an ideal setting for the musical blockbuster, ‘The Sound of Music’. At this point I need to mention that ‘The Sound of Music’ was the very first movie I ever saw in a cinema and seeing those beautiful rolling green hills while living in tinder-dry Australia made quite an impact on a 10 year old kid all those years ago. So needless to say, I was already impressed with Austrian countryside even before we had arrived and with blue skies overhead, I wasn’t disappointed as it provided a wonderful backdrop to Salzburg.

Long before Julie Andrews was running around its hillsides, Salzburg was already a major tourist destination, attracting visitors from far and wide. Not just for the beauty of its old town, but in admiration of its most famous citizen … Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. The great composer was born and lived here during his short, but eventful life and even today he still remains the town’s major tourist attraction. Both the house in which he was born and his residence are museums in which you can view the instruments he played, sheet music of his famous compositions, letters he wrote to his beloved wife and even locks of his hair. He was certainly the ‘rock star’ of his generation and like most superstars who die young, there remains an insatiable desire for the public to delve into every aspect of the life of this young prodigy. Mozart recordings continue to sell as well as ever and you can easily catch live performances of his concertos just about any night of the week. The commercialism of Mozart here is certainly something to behold, with what seems like every second restaurant, hotel and coffee shop laying claim to his name, not to mention the countless souvenirs. Here you can buy original Mozart chocolates, perfumes, jewelry and much more, not that I was aware that he had ever digressed into any of these enterprises during his lifetime.

While tourism remains the lifeblood of Salzburg, over the years it has been sensible enough to retain it’s essential character. The Baroque buildings have been strictly preserved (earning it recognition as a UNESCO world heritage site) with most subsequent construction remaining sympathetic with the traditional 17th century architecture. Even the style of street signage is strictly controlled, with businesses restricted to ornate traditional overhead signs that hang above each shop. So if you ever want to see the most elegant ‘McDonalds’ sign in the world, this is the place to view it.

Looming large over the old town is the picturesque Hohensalzburg Castle that dates back to 1077 and that sit high on a nearby ridge. Unlike the invaders from centuries ago, Jules and I were able to venture inside its fortified walls to find a little village preserved as if from a time long gone. From its highest point, the view was magnificent and we could look down upon the timeless streets of Salzburg as well as a majestic landscape that stretched endlessly into the distance. As one of the largest medieval castles in Europe, there was plenty to see as we wandered through the labyrinth of chambers before navigating the steep hike back down to the narrow streets below. That night we walked across the old bridge to have a look at the towns summer screening of popular opera performances (Mozart of course) that are held in the open air of the town square. With the sight of the castle on the hill under lights and the sound of the opera in the air, it all seemed quite surreal, but somehow right. Some places will never change and I guess Salzburg is one of them.

The Perils of Castle Hunting in Bavaria

So captivated were we about the German countryside and the distant sight of the Bavarian Alps that we decided to join a tour heading out of Munich. We thought that there would be nothing better than capturing the scenic splendour of this part of the world while visiting what is often referred to as the most picturesque castle in the world. Neuschwanstein Castle sits high on a rugged mountain out crop in the Bavarian countryside and was built by the reckless spending, eccentric and some might say slightly insane King Ludwig II in the mid nineteenth century. It is now the most photographed castle in the world and provided the inspiration for Walt Disney’s Cinderella castle, which eventually became the signature building for his popular theme park. It turns out that King Ludwig was probably not as ‘loopy’ as first thought, as his castle is now as popular as Disneyland, becoming a consistent money-spinner since his death in 1886. Today, it attracts millions of visitors and is now Germany’s most popular tourist attraction, contributing very nicely to the nations coffers each year.

In hunting down Neuschwanstein, we were playing our small part in boosting the German economy, along with a busload of other visitors, all hoping to get the most picturesque photograph of their European vacation. Alas, we would all be seriously disappointed, because as we approached the mountain range, with the famous castle perched high on the ridge, it looked distinctively different. As we moved closer we could see that the highly recognizable towers were disguised by the scourge of all camera-snapping tourists … scaffolding!! There was a collective sigh from the bus as it became obvious to all on board that the facade was clearly going through some rather extensive renovations. Amazingly, our tour guide had not mentioned this at any stage and as we approached she continued to rattle off a range of facts about the castle in the belief that if it wasn’t mentioned then we wouldn’t notice. In our travels over the years, we have been caught out by the ‘scaffolding phenomenon’ a few times (the Guggenheim Museum and the Sistine Chapel spring to mind) and we are philosophical when it happens; appreciating that these things need to be done at some stage and somebody has to be affected. So after the initial disappointment, we approached in the hope that the location and the view would more than compensate for the loss of the idealic castle scene we had sought.

Arriving at the base of the castle we weren’t quite prepared for the chaos that such a major tourist attraction (scaffolded or otherwise) can create in the Bavarian Alps in the height of summer. If you can imagine narrow roadways and peak hour traffic, combined with horse drawn carriages, double decker buses and pedestrians walking in between them all, you may come close to the scene that awaited us. It seemed that we had truly underestimated the attraction of this iconic landmark and the scale of its commercialism. It did in fact have all the popularity of Disneyland, but without the organization.

While surrounding restaurants were doing a roaring trade at the base of the mountain, waves of tourists were making the 30-minute trek up to pay homage to King Ludwigs ‘folly’. Not surprisingly, at the castle itself, there was just as much mayhem as down below, with countless tour groups waiting to storm the interior, while the rest were jockeying to find the best vantage point to get that elusive photograph. We found that with a little selective cropping of the scaffolding and the hordes of people, we could just about, but somewhat dishonestly, manufacture the type of idealic image so often seen on the tourist brochures that had led us here in the first place.

So Neuschwanstein Castle wasn’t quite as we had expected, but thankfully our bus made two other stops along the way that were far less chaotic and infinitely more enjoyable. The first was Linderhof Palace, which was another one of King Ludwig’s little projects. As palaces go, this one is quite livable, as it is on a modest scale yet provides all the opulence befitting an eccentric king. Ludwig was apparently obsessed with the works of Richard Wagner with much of the Rococo design looking as if it had come straight from one of his mythical operas. The grounds were quite magnificent, with multi-level gardens and a golden fountain that regularly shoots a stream of water several storeys high. The other interesting stop was at the picturesque town of Oberammergau, which is famous for the ‘Passion Play’, which has been performed here every 10 years since 1634. When the story of Christ is re-enacted, pilgrims from all over the world descend upon this quaint little village, but at most other times it is relatively quiet, generating its income mostly from the sale of woodcarving and cuckoo clocks. While Neuschwanstein brought in the big bucks for Germany, it would be places like these that would bring back the most pleasant memories of our trip to the Bavarian Alps, not to mention the most photogenic images.

Following the Shadows of the Third Reich

While Munich today is certainly a very beautiful and vibrant major city, it was far from being that way following the devastation of World War II. With around 70% of the city destroyed, it required many years of rebuilding in order to preserve the major historical buildings. Thankfully this has been done slowly and sensitively, but there are still plenty of reminders of what are referred to as the ‘dark years’ of the Nazi era. While studying Modern European History for my year 12 exams, I subjected myself to the complete BBC series of ‘The World at War’ several times over, until those grainy black and white images of the 1930 and 40’s became almost emblazoned on my brain. Yet for a 17 year old, this remained a very distant time and events that had happened were in a very distant place. So now thirty something years later, it would be interesting for me to visit the actual places that had been so significant in the rise of the infamous ‘Third Reich’.

At this stage I must mention that all this war history is not particularly Jules’ cup of tea. In fact anything war related is strictly banned from television viewing in our household if she is anywhere within earshot. So I was on my own when I joined one of the regular walking tours that focuses upon Hitler and the birth of the Nazi regime in Munich. So along with a small group of aficionados from a wide variety of English speaking countries (including one chap who was so impressed with the tour that this was his third time around), we set out for a few hours to re-live those ‘dark days’ of the 1920’s and 30’s. Our tour guide was Levi, a young American guy who came armed with a folio full of photos and a passion for the pre-war history of this city. As we walked to the various sites, he would relate many detailed stories of the emerging regime with its anti-semetic doctrines and strange but charismatic leader. We visited several locations where Hitler made many of his early speeches (such as the Old Marienplatz Town Hall and Hofbräuhaus), relived the events of the ‘Beer Hall Putsch’ and walked around the public squares where large Nazi rallies were later held (Odeonsplatz and Königsplatz). The tour culminated at the Nazi Headquarters building, which remarkably still exists today as a music academy, minus the eagle swastika that used to hang prominently at its entrance. The marble interior remains much as it was when SS officers with knee high boots marched up and down the grand central staircase leading to Hilters office on the first floor.

For many years I taught an art history unit on ‘Art and Politics’ where a significant aspect of the course examined the role of art within the Nazi propaganda machine. One building that had a significant role was ‘The House of German Art’, which was the first architectural commission completed after Hitler obtained political power and became notorious for showcasing works that were in-keeping with Nazi ideology. This is yet another building that somehow remained unscathed following allied bombing and appears much as it was when Hitler opened it in the grand entrance in 1937 with a scathing speech that denounced ‘modernism’. Today it is still used as an art gallery, but its administration now works actively to promote the type of art that had been initially banned then eventually mocked in the infamous ‘Degenerate Art’ exhibition, which was held in a ramshackled gallery just around the corner. It is seventy-five years since these events and clearly enough time had passed for an exhibition to be held entitled ‘History in Conflict’. The display looked back at the buildings chequered past that saw it initially celebrated as a high temple of Germanic culture until by the end of the war it was reduced to being used by American forces as an officers mess where basketball was played in its galleries.

In visiting the historical sites of the Third Reich, it was inevitable and certainly necessary to take a trip to Dacchau concentration camp, about half an hour outside of Munich. For this trip Jules had agreed to join me, which I particularly appreciated as I knew it was going to be a very somber place. Yet we both felt that it had to be experienced and in some way it would allow us to pay homage to the thousands of poor souls who had ended their days there. Clearly many others felt the same way as we joined numerous nationalities that respectfully walked through the iron gates emblazoned with the hollow words ‘Arbeit Macht Frei’ (work brings freedom). As we walked around, we were encouraged to see so many German citizens seeking to learn more about events that have become so emblazoned upon the conscience of the whole country. This was certainly a place for much reflection and contemplation about the depths of human brutality.

Today it is at times difficult for a visitor to Munich to imagine the tumultuous events that happened here less than a century ago. It is such a vibrant and prosperous city, but events occurred here within living memory that not only shaped Munich but much of the western world. For me, the visit placed much of my historical knowledge in some sort of context. I began to recognise the places I had seen in old photographs and somehow those grainy black and white ‘World at War’ films I had watched as a kid back in Australia seemed just a little more real.

Summer Days in Munich

As we traveled across the border from Verona to Munich, the sun shined brightly through windows of our train. The landscape was lush and green and perched on the hillside alpine style homes became increasingly apparent. The steep roofs and large piles of chopped firewood suggested that it wasn’t always this way in these parts, with a snow-covered landscape probably being a much more familiar outlook. For now the skies were blue, it was summer and our first introduction to Germany looked particularly picturesque.

Walking out from the station, the streets were bustling and we instantly sensed the German economic prosperity that we had heard so much about despite the recent problems with the struggling European currency. It may have been the warm summer weather, but people seemed happy and relaxed, the outdoor cafes were full, the roads were full of late model Mercedes, Audis and BMW’s and the shops appeared to be doing a roaring trade. The devastation of Munich following World War II appeared to be a very distant memory and it was now the most economically buoyant city in the most economically buoyant country in the EU. It was not too long before Jules and I had joined the masses who were leisurely strolling through the picturesque boulevard of Marienplatz, which seems to be the central meeting place from which other major retails areas of Munich are linked. It is dominated by the gothic town hall, which is humorously translates into German as the ‘Rathaus’. This ornately decorated building is the focal point for many visitors; not only for the information centre it provides, but for the regular chiming of bells accompanied by dancing figures below the clock. To be honest this really isn’t our thing, but we were somewhat amused by the amount of people who flocked into the square each day to stand in the hot sun to witness the wooden marionettes doing their regular turn.

We were of course much more interested in visiting ‘Viktualienmarkt’, which is the place to find all things gastronomic. There was certainly a great atmosphere here with plenty of wonderful produce for sale, which could be sampled to the accompaniment of the various ‘umpa-pa’ bands that seemed to be scattered around the open-air market. In the centre was a leafy green canopy of trees where hundreds of people sat on packed tables enjoying cold meats and the obligatory German sausage. Naturally enough this was being washed down with bucket sized glasses of cold beer. This wasn’t totally surprising as we were well aware of Germany’s reputation for beer consumption to the point that it could almost be regarded as part of the staple diet, which is enjoyed daily and in enormous quantities. We were amazed to find that the amber liquid was generally the same price as bottled water and with two complimentary bottles placed in our hotel fridge daily, an afternoon pint quickly became an easy habit for us to slip into. Of course the crowning achievement of Munich’s beer drinking prowess remains the annual ‘Oktoberfest’, attracting millions of visitors and generating a fortune for the local economy. We caught a glimpse of the tents being set up for this year’s event and couldn’t quite believe the sheer scale of the festivities. Spanning over several acres, we were proudly told that over 7 million litres of beer would be drunk here, fueling raucous singing and dancing over the 18 days of the event.

As the days passed, there were many things that we liked about Munich and we could well understand why it had been voted one of the most livable cities in world. As legacy of its days as an Olympic host city, it has a fabulous underground rail network as well as numerous tramlines that weave their way around the busy streets. Despite the wartime bombing, there are still many wonderful buildings and palaces that were originally built by its big spending monarchy. There is a fabulous array of art galleries and an extensive range of parks and gardens that provide a cool and quiet haven from the noise and heat of the big city.

Probably the most impressive is the ‘English Garden’ that spans over 900 acres (one of the worlds largest urban parks) and features a number of impressive buildings and monuments. On a hot summers day, Jules and I took refuge in this lush green oasis only to find thousands of ‘Münchners’ (citizens of Munich) had exactly the same idea. The most popular spot with the younger crowd was the fast flowing river that made its way through the park. Jumping in here could see you traveling several kilometers down stream very quickly, but oddly enough that’s what seemed to be the main attraction. We watched plenty of kids bobbing happily along with the current, only to make the long trek back by foot to do it all over again. An equally popular pastime was river surfing! This was something we had never seen before, but it was extremely popular with wetsuit-donned surfers who queued patiently for their 30 second turn. It seems that at some stage it was realised that near one of the bridges, the rapidly flowing water became compressed resulting in the formation of a small but sustained wave. No sooner than this was discovered that a surfboard was thrown in and a popular pastime was born. Munich was full of such surprises and having the opportunity to spend a few glorious summer days in this impressive city was certainly the best way for us to see it.

A Night at the Opera in Verona

The mention of the town of Verona conjures up a range of Shakespearian images based around one of ‘The Bards’ most famous productions, ‘Romeo and Juliet’. Certainly it’s pretty hard not to miss the connection when you visit this pretty northern Italian town with its continued tourist geared references. Of course, there remains continued speculation as to whether William Shakespeare actually visited the town all those years ago, but he used it as the setting for his tragic play and that seems to be enough.

There is of course the famed Juliet balcony in the centre of town that, from what we can gather, has absolutely nothing to do with anything Shakespearian but rather it seems to be an idyllic stone balcony that roughly matches the public’s image of what might be the perfect setting for the lovers’ famed soliloquy. Much hype is placed around this particular location with the heavily graffitied walls at the entrance, suggesting that floods of couples have previously made their way here in order to pledge their enduring love. Even the lovelorn seem to have been catered for, with a post box provided in which they can post messages to ‘Juliet’, seeking advice of the heart. Much like a letter to Santa Claus, I’m not quite sure where these letters actually go or who answers them, but there appeared to be plenty of people regularly pinning their hopes on the consolatory words she provides.

Of course, Verona has much more to offer, not the least being it’s wonderful medieval architecture that in many cases has been cleaned and restored (very little graffiti here). During our stay we spent many hours simply walking around the backstreets, taking photographs and imagining what life must have been like when these buildings were originally built. In the end, Jules acclaimed it as one of the most picturesque Italian cities we had visited, which is particularly high praise indeed as she has quite an extensive list of favourites. With many ‘osterias’ and ‘trattorias’ to be found in the narrow streets, there was also plenty of opportunities for us to sample local food and wine, as well as the popular ‘Spritz’ (prosecco and Aperol with a slice of orange), which seemed to be the aperitif of choice amongst the locals.

The particular weekend we were in Verona, we were lucky enough to experience one of its most popular attractions, the summer opera season. This is held open air in the ancient Roman coliseum in the centre of town. The crumbling structure is impressive enough, but as a setting for some of the world’s greatest opera productions, it is enough to bring droves of opera buffs from far and wide to experience the event in its truly unique setting. Jules was organized as usual and managed to secure our tickets for the Egyptian spectacle of ‘Aida’, directed and conducted by the legendary Placido Domingo. This would be our first experience of live opera and it would be difficult to imagine a more fitting location for our baptism. As expected, the production was truly remarkable visual spectacular, although to be honest, we weren’t too sure what was actually happening most of the time. What we did begin to realise after a while that the production was very, very long (almost 4 hours) and our powers of endurance was certainly going to be tested. Sitting high in the arena, on the same tiered stone steps that toga wearing citizens had once watched gladiators in action centuries ago, it began to eventually take its toll and well after midnight we hobbled out of the arena like a couple of old cowboys, satisfied by what we had experienced, but somewhat worse for wear. While we headed straight back to our room for a well earned rest on our delightfully soft bed, seasoned opera buffs (clearly in the more expensive padded seats) were heading out for their evening (or very early morning) meal and to no doubt recount the wonderful performance they had witnessed well into the early hours of a new day.

Verona would be our final town on this trip to Italy and it had certainly delivered on all fronts. The sights, the language, the food, the vino, the people … all bellisimo! As a taxi driver once reminded us, it isn’t all perfect, but overall it’s pretty good! Our stay had again reminded us what a wonderfully diverse country Italy is and why it continues to have such appeal for those of us from different cultures. No doubt this trip has continued to fuel Jules’ desire to become an officially adopted Italian and we'll take away plenty of great memories, let alone countless photos to continually remind us of our extraordinary experiences of ‘la dolce vita in bella Italia’!

Walking the Porticos of Bologna

Following a short train trip from Milan (approx 1 hour), we arrived in Bologna. Jules had particularly chosen this town as she had read of its reputation as one of the major food centres of Italy and the chance to experience the best of local dining and produce was simply too hard to ignore. To be honest, in the end it didn’t really live up to all the hype, as tends to happen with most of these things. Sure, there were some terrific food and produce shops, with a wide array of cheese and meats, but no less impressive than the offerings of our very own Central Market back in Adelaide. Likewise on the restaurant front, the meals were enjoyable and certainly cheap, but really no better than we had experienced throughout other locations in Italy. However, Bologna did have one major asset in its favor that we hadn’t considered and that was its ‘authenticity’. Unlike most of the provincial cities we had visited, it appeared largely unaffected by tourism and therefore provided a very genuine Italian experience. There were far less foreign accents to be heard and the older parts of town generally lacked the polish and presentation of the more visited destinations. Sadly, there was far too much graffiti for our liking, which often defaced the towns beautiful and unique historical buildings. Yet looking through all that, we felt that there was certainly a uniqueness about Bologna that had strangely not been fully capitalized by its own citizens.

It quickly became apparent that the most unique feature of Bologna was its architecture and particularly its street level porticos that are said to stretch out some 38 kilometres in and around the city. These arched covered walkways were largely built in the middle ages to sensibly protect its citizens from the natural elements as they made their way around. Most of the porticos are beautifully constructed, often with marble flooring and elaborately painted ceilings. With the light streaming in, they would often appear like a scene from a De Chirico painting, while at other times they had an endless quality that perfectly demonstrated the converging lines of perspective drawing. Such was the case during the long walk we undertook to San Luca Basilica. We began by catching a bus to the site of one of the entrances of the ancient wall that had originally surrounded the city centuries ago. From here we wandered along an extensive stretch of porticos that slowly made their way upward into the foothills. With over 600 archways to pass through, strangely the walk had a remarkable similarity to our climb through the Tori Gates in Japan. While the designs were completely different, the scale and endless nature of the arches was in many ways similar. Eventually we took the final steps at the end to reveal a beautiful terracotta coloured church overlooking the city, which incidentally appeared to spread far wider than we had previously thought.

Throughout our stay, we found the Bolognians to be particularly friendly folk; they were happy to go out of their way with help and advise, as if surprised that we had chosen to visit there town rather than more popular destinations. Another surprising quality we discovered was their love of cinema, apparently buying the largest number of movie tickets per head of population in Italy. They hold a number of film festivals throughout the year, with the most popular being the Sotto le Stelle del Cinema, which is held in the summer months in the open-air of the Maggiore Piazza. After dinner one night, we thought we’d take a ‘passagiata’ (an evening stroll) to the piazza to see what was happening. Being a free event, it was absolutely packed, but there was a terrific atmosphere as people were settling in for the evening with a cold glass of vino or a melting gelato in hand. With the huge screen set against a backdrop of buildings from the middle age, I can’t think of a better setting for watching a movie on a warm summers night. Amazingly the movie (‘The Kings Speech’ that particular night) was in English with Italian subtitles, as apparently the film aficionados prefer their films to be presented in their original language.

The next day we woke to another sun drenched day and to find a huge open-air market had set up close to our hotel. Spreading out far and wide, it effectively doubled the already large collection of shops in the central business district and local residents were already up early searching out bargains. If you were looking for cheap shoes, clothing, leather goods or electronics, this was certainly the place to be. Indeed, Bologna generally seemed to be a very affordable city to live, which no doubt suits the large student population who live here. The city has the notoriety of being the location of the one of the oldest universities in the world (University of Bologna, founded in 1088), which further adds to its somewhat understated history. As we continued to discover, there was much about Bologna that could be further promoted to enhance the city and attract more visitors. However, the question is whether that is what is actually wanted or in the end, whether it will ultimately change the cities truly authentic character.

Logos and Leonardo

Back to Milan for the second time in two weeks, Jules and I were hoping to gain a bit more of an insight into what makes this city tick. We were interested in its sense of ‘style’ that appears to have become so ingrained into the culture and character of the city. Certainly Milan has a reputation as an art and design capital, with a myriad of festivals held each year (i.e. Milan Design Week, Milan Furniture Festival, Milan Fashion Week, Milan Biennale to name just a few) that continue to attract interest throughout the world. This is a city that encourages creativity and has more recently inspired the likes of Giorgio Armani, Guccio Gucci, Miuccia Prada, Nina Ricci, Gianni Versace … and the list goes on and on. On the streets we could gauge that here art is more than just aesthetics but a serious business with countless high end designer shops competing for the attention of the style conscious Milanese. For them it appeared that it was all about the ‘brand’ and having the right product connections was as important as breathing.

While Jules and I also undertook our own retail research, we did find time to visit the Triennale Design Museum, which is regarded as Milan’s most significant cultural institution showcasing aspects of its modern design history. While it was interesting, we felt that it didn’t totally capture the full dimension of this city’s creative achievement. For us, this could be seen better by simply looking through the logo branded shop windows of which there are plenty!

As we walked to the Triennale, we passed through the Sforza Castle, which is a 14th century reminder of Milan’s historical past. This magnificent structure is made even more famous due to some of the ceiling decorations by Italy’s greatest artist and designer, Leonardo da Vinci. The Milanese are particularly proud of the influence of the city upon the career of Leonardo, with the ‘great man’ establishing a strong connection with the city by basing himself here for 17 years (1482-1499) and then returning again several years later (1504-1508). He is honored in Piazza Della Scala with an impressive statue by Pietro Magni (1872) that overlooks the world-renowned opera theatre, La Scala. However, Leonardo’s most significant monument would have to be the fresco he painted in the refectory of the Santa Maria della Grazie …’The Last Supper’. Regarded as the most reproduced religious image ever, it is such a popular attraction that today you need to book well in advance in order to view it. Thankfully, Jules did just that as we turned up at our appointed time only to witness a number of disappointed tourists being turned away. Having a ticket however doesn’t mean that you are immediately free to walk in; there are a series of waiting areas that each group (around 25 people) must work their way through before finally proceeding to the 15 minute viewing. Following much anticipation, the glass doors finally slid open and we entered a relatively small room that was sparse and dimly lit. On the far wall under soft light was the iconic fresco, which on first sight stunned our small group into silence, as it must do for virtually every group when they see it for the first time. It is fortunate that the fresco actually still exists at all, after being bombed to near destruction during World War II; yet somehow it survived and it’s restoration has remained an ongoing project ever since. The latest was completed in 1999 and saw years of over-painting being taken back to reveal Leonardo’s original brushwork. The result is less colourful, but with its inconsistencies in condition, it somehow makes the piece far more authentic, revealing the experimentation of early fresco techniques. It is was certainly no less impressive and as we sat on the simple wooden benches, there was a quiet reverence for both the religious subject matter and for the skill of the artist who depicted it.

While our stay in Milan was short, we managed to gain just a small glimpse of its impressive art and design history, both from the past and present. Similar to Paris, there is a certain confidence in this city and it’s citizens based upon a well-established foundation of creative achievement. It is certainly dirty, loud and gritty, which is in stark contrast to the polished and refined items that are produced here. Like the bright red Ferrari’s that are built just outside the city, it continues to provide the world with many of the unmistakable tokens of success and provides the setting from which great designs are launched.

On Board the Bernina Express to St.Moritz

Part of the fun of sitting out on our balcony overlooking Lake Como is watching the various activities of the lake … ferries of different shapes and sizes, small motorboats, seaplanes and occasionally traditional Italian rowing boats (in which two oarsmen stand as they row). While the lake is a watery stage for a myriad of activities, the backdrop to all this is the magnificent mountain range of the Alps which straddle the border between Italy and Switzerland. In anticipation of even more spectacular scenery, Jules and I were keen to explore them further by heading toward the border and hopping on the Bernina Express that heads towards St. Moritz.

We boarded the weekly tour bus that leaves from Menaggio to find that many other tourists (mostly Brits) had a similar idea, particularly as the weather forecast promised a clear and sunny day in the Alps. These sort of group tours are not normally our type of thing, but for economy of time and the opportunity to travel on one of the highest (over 2000 metres above sea level) and most picturesque railway journeys of the world, we were prepared to be herded along.

Travelling by coach toward to the northern end of Lake Como, we pass through the little lakeside town of Dongo and are reminded by our tour guide that this was the location for the dramatic capture of Benito Mussolini and his mistress toward the end of World War II. Heading for the neutral Swiss border and with the Alps in sight, ‘il Duce’ must have thought that he was just about safe, until partisans stumbled upon him and swiftly delivered their vengeful justice. In thankfully more peaceful times, this area is now one of Italy’s major wine regions with vineyards stretching high into the slopes of the nearby hills. Arriving at the border town of Tirano, there was time to view the elaborate Basilica of the Madonna, which is said to have been the site of an apparition of the Virgin Mary in the 16th century and continues to attract pilgrims each year in search of divine miracles. However, what is more significant to us is that it is here that we get our first glimpse of the Bernina Express, which literally cuts through the centre of the town.

We cross the Swiss border and in order to save some time, board the train in Poschiavo to begin a slow winding accent toward Bernina Diavolezza. This is a spectacular run that sees us traveling over viaducts toward the extraordinary Bernina Pass with its snow capped peaks, milky blue lakes and ancient glacier. Not surprisingly, the pass and the railway line that threads its way through it are listed as UNESCO world heritage sites and even in summer it is a remarkable landscape that had both ourselves and the Brits continually snapping our cameras. The time passed quickly and we were soon back on the bus for the final run into St.Moritz, a place that has long been regarded as a winter playground of the rich and famous. While the town provided some nice scenic outlooks, a pretty alpine lake and of course the end point for the legendary Cresta Run (a three quarter of a mile toboggan racing track), we felt that as a town it was somewhat of an anti-climax. Similar to cities like Monaco, there is artificiality and a manicured nature to such places that make them somewhat cold and impersonal. As we were warned, the shopping was outrageously expensive and the best we could manage was a vanilla custard slice (quite delicious, I must say) and an ice-cream (not a patch on Italian gelato). No doubt St.Moritz is a winter wonderland when the snow falls and you’re cashed up for the season, but for now, we were just happy to head back to Italy.

On our return however, we had an unexpected surprise when we crossed over the Italian border and made a brief stop in Chiavenna. Nestled in a mountainous valley, this beautiful medieval village exuded all the charm that we have come to expect when venturing outside the major tourists spots. Narrow laneways, picturesque buildings and piazzas complete with water fountains, which can all be summed up in one simple word ... ‘character’! Running through the heart of the town was a rocky stream that flowed with icy clear water of melted snow from the mountains above, which was spanned by an ancient arched bridge. As we looked down, a local man who clearly sensed that we were visitors, came alongside and began to throw bread into the stream, encouraging excitable trout to the surface. Not to be out done, Jules reached into her bag to bring out a bag of dried bread sticks and did the same. At that point we both wished that we had more time to spend in Chiavenna rather than in St. Moritz. While we had thoroughly enjoyed the trip, in particular the wonderful scenery of the Bernina Pass, it had again reminded us about which side of the border we preferred and for us this time there was no simply comparison.

Living the Life on Lake Como

Heading north out of Milan by rail was much like leaving (or entering for that matter) any other big European city, plenty of grime and plenty of graffiti. There was certainly no indication of the breathtaking beauty that we were about to experience just one hour away at Lake Como. However, upon reaching the end of the line in the town of Como, we knew that we were in for something special when we walked out of the station to see the great lake stretched out before us like an endless blue runway.

Jules had been planning our visit here for months in advance, scouring the internet for the perfect holiday rental that would provide the unique combination of a truly authentic Italian experience combined with all of the necessary holiday comforts and conveniences. She thought that she had found such a place in Argegno, a slightly lesser known tourist town than Bellagio, Menaggio or Varenna, but with the important common feature of being right on the waters edge. It also had one other added attraction for Jules and that was being the neighboring town of Laglio, which any celebrity watcher knows is where George Clooney chooses to spend his summer vacations (Jules would continue to live in hope of a chance meeting throughout our stay). While George was nowhere in sight as we passed through on the bus, what did become apparent as we weaved around the coastline was the increasingly stunning lakeside views. As we headed closer to our destination, an American girl lent over to ask whether the next stop was in fact Argegno. She went on to explain that her and her two friends had traveled up from Milan for the day just for a swim in the pristine waters and with much of the lake having limited public access, they had read that this was one of the few spots they might be able to wade in. We all hopped off the bus heading in different directions; for them it was the water and for us, the hills. We actually saw the girls later in the afternoon and it seemed that they had indeed fulfilled their mission and with dripping hair they were about to begin their long trip back to Milan. We on the other hand, would be spending a much longer time here (two weeks in fact) in a house only a stones throw from the waters edge and with majestic views of the alpine peaks beyond. It would be from our balcony overlooking the lake that we would recite our regular mantra… ‘how good is this?’… several times a day!

It wasn’t too long before we were exploring the numerous lakeside towns using the regular ferries that ply these waters. For those in a hurry, there was the ‘servizio rapido’ (hydrofoil) service, but for the rest of us, with time on our hands, the regular ‘slow ferry’ would move at a pace that allowed us to do some sunbathing between taking regular photographs of the ever-changing scenery. This surely was the best way to take in the scale and beauty of Lake Como and its surrounding towns; each with it’s classic window-shuttered buildings, painted in umpteen shades of terracotta. Clinging onto the steep mountain slopes, these closely stacked buildings were generally simple and rustic, separated by narrow laneways, providing a romanticism that is unique to Italy. Jules and I would spend many an hour analyzing and dissecting the qualities of each town while sitting in the local cafes and restaurants. I must admit that gazing at unbelievable views and eating Italian dishes with a glass of vino or cold beer was a pretty nice way to spend an afternoon. Not surprisingly, it soon became our regular pastime as we tried to determine the most picturesque town. After much deliberation we eventually awarded that honor to Varenna, as much for its serenity (due to the lack of cars) as the quintessential charm of its old town.

Despite our regular journeys around the lake, at the end of the day we were always happy to return to Argegno. We had not seen a better view of Lake Como than from our very own balcony, unless of course you discounted the outlook from Pigra. This is a small town that sits on top of the mountains above Argegno and by boarding a tiny cable car, you can stand on a summit almost 1000 metres high. The aerial view from here was pretty special indeed and provided us with yet another reminder of the sheer scale of the lake and overlapping mountain ranges that continued endlessly through to Switzerland. Back in the village, Jules was increasingly making herself known to the locals. Most mornings she would head off to visit the lady in the grocery store, the baker and her friendly fruit and veg man, who were all very welcoming. They would encourage her to use Italian language, while providing just enough English to act as a safety net if she couldn’t quite find the words. She would return with bags of delicious goodies and fuelled with inspiration to cook. As she loaded her ingredients into the fridge, she would look at me and say with a smile … ‘I could get used to this!’

The view from our balcony!

24 Hours in Milan

Following a two and half hour train journey from Venice, we arrive in Milan around midday on a warm Sunday afternoon. As we dragged our suitcases out of the train station, we find a somewhat different outlook than the picture perfect spot we had just left a few hours earlier. The city is very quiet and the buildings appear dull and grey from years exposure to car fumes. The shutters of the shops are rolled down exposing endless panels of ugly graffiti that appear to have been there for years. Our immediate introduction to Milan is seedy and uninviting and with a few shady looking characters wandering around, we are keen to keep moving toward our more centrally located hotel. Thankfully as we get closer the to the centre of the city, the scene slowly begins to improve, with more signs of life and the place looks distinctly cleaner and safer. By the time we reach the hotel, we can see some shops open, street cafes and a leafy park in the distance, while the occasional tram is now bustling down the main road. We had read mixed opinions about Milan and at this stage our opinion too was mixed; perhaps in 24 hours we would know better!

Our plan is to meet with our son Dave and his fiancé Cara in Milan then travel one-hour north by train to Lake Como to enjoy some time together in a lakeside house that Jules had managed to organize months before our arrival in Italy. As we are all leaving the next morning, we plan to spend the afternoon and evening catching up while exploring what downtown Milan has to offer. We immediately head toward Piazza Del Duomo, which is the most significant of the cities tourist spots and is dominated by the enormous and highly elaborate Milan Cathedral. Unlike the buildings near the railway station, everything in the square appears to have been recently cleaned, with only the spires of the cathedral and the equestrian statue of King Victor Immanuel II undergoing the final touches of renovation. You really have to pay credit to the Italians, they really know how to build a public square and this is certainly one of their most impressive, both in its scale and overwhelming attention to architectural detail. It has been over a year since seeing Dave and Cara so this is the perfect spot to sit in one of the many cafes that surround the piazza to enjoy a cool drink and exchange news while marveling at the sheer grandeur of our surroundings.

Before too long, we can’t resist the opportunity to explore the nearby Museo Del Novecento (The Museum of Contemporary Art), not just for its fine collection of modern art, but also for the spectacular elevated views it provides overlooking the Duomo. From here you can clearly see the Galleria Victor Emanuele II Arcade (clearly he was very popular in Milan) and we are particularly keen to venture through the formidable entrance into what must be one of the most beautiful under cover shopping malls in the world. Built in the mid 1800’s, the Italians again demonstrated their sense of design, style and ingenuity by building an enormous arched glass and wrought iron roof that is both functional and elegant. The Galleria is filled with all of the major designer brands, confirming Milan’s reputation of one of the great design and fashion capitals of the world. Towards the centre of the arcade, the floor mosaic reveals the Turin coat of arms and following Jules’ suggestion, we spin on it three times for good luck, as is the popular
tradition.

If Venice was all about tourism, Milan  appeared to be more about business (even on a Sunday afternoon), but as we headed back toward the hotel, there seemed to be some quite obvious divides between the various strata within its society. While designer shops spread out far and wide from the central galleria, with plenty of ‘beautiful’ people frequenting them, there also appears to be an equal number of those battling to buy into this glamorous world. I guess it isn't unlike many of the big cities of the world that we have visited over the years, but having just arrived from idyllic, egalitarian Venice, it seemed all the more obvious.

In the evening Milan’s apparent indifference to tourism certainly worked in our favor as we enjoyed our best meal in Italy so far, at a small alfresco restaurant in a laneway not far from our hotel. We had so often been under whelmed with the meals we had eaten in the more obvious tourist spots (as if just being there was enough without expecting the good authentic food too), so we were pleased to finally enjoy a truly Italian meal with a contemporary twist. Around the corner there was an authentic wood oven pizza restaurant with people queuing out the door, but that would have to wait for another time. Tomorrow we would leave the big city streets of Milan and head for the solitude of the Lakes, only to return in two weeks time when we can explore here further. Within the space of 24 hours we had arrived and departed, only just beginning to scratch the surface of this ‘gritty’ and somewhat contrasting city…there was still much to see and we would be back!

In Search of Venetian Art

While the city of Venice has traditionally provided wonderful subject matter for artists throughout the centuries, it also shares the distinction (with Florence) as being a major centre for Italian renaissance. In those days, it’s buoyant trading economy provided much needed support for artists that enabled painters, sculptors, glassmakers, ceramicists, woodworkers and lace makers to make a comfortable living. Today there are several major galleries and museums, while there still remains hundreds of smaller studios/galleries to be viewed. To this end, Jules and I tended to spend most of the daylight hours wandering the canals and laneways searching them out.

If you are into renaissance art and architecture, there is plenty to see with the Academia Gallery (that includes Leonardo Da Vinci’s famous drawing of ‘Vitruvian Man‘), Scoula Grande di San Rocco, Doges Palace and more. However, our tastes tend to lean to the more modern so we begun our tour with Ca’ Pesaro - International gallery of Modern Art, which features many notable works from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The birth of modernism is certainly not lost in this beautiful city and with the Museo Correr hosting a major touring exhibition of the works of Gustav Klimt, that just had to be viewed. The exhibition would also provide a nice introduction to Viennese Secessionist art that we were set to fully experience in a few weeks time.

However, the most impressive collection of modernist works to be found in Venice were certainly on display in the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, which is situated in the former home of this art collector, bohemian and socialite. While I knew a little bit about Solomon Guggenheim (her uncle) and had visited the Guggenheim museum in New York, I did not know too much about this extraordinary lady and the amazing collection of modern art she amassed in Europe during her lifetime. While many private collections often include minor work by significant artists, we were amazed at the quality of her collection that included many major works from the who’s who of twentieth century art. Jules and I realty enjoyed wandering around the rooms in which she had lived, which was brought to life even more vividly by photos taken of her in these very spaces back in the day. As we sat on her patio facing the Grand Canal, we thought what a life she must have led in the company of some of the greatest artists of the time in one of the most beautiful cities of the world.

For the really contemporary stuff we just had to visit Palazzo Grassi and Punta Della Dogana. These galleries were situated in different parts of Venice, but they appeared intrinsically linked by their representation of the very latest in conceptual art. We viewed a very thought provoking show by Urs Fischer at the Palazzo Grazzi and a variety of other challenging pieces (although less to our taste) in the Punta Della Dogana (which has a Japanese connection with the building being recently redesigned by noted architect Tadeo Ando). With the Venice Biennale established in 1895, this city has built a strong reputation over the years as arguably the most significant forum for innovative art held in the world. Today, with representatives from over 30 countries establishing their own ‘art pavilions’, it continues to attract the worlds leading contemporary artists and of course, thousands of art lovers every second year in celebration of the visual arts. For your work to be represented here is to know that you have truly made it in the art world!

While the big galleries were outstanding, many of the smaller ones also impressed us and we could sense that a real art community existed here which would be the envy of most other cities. As we wandered around the picturesque laneways and canals, Jules and I could quite easily imagine ourselves eking out an existence in a tiny studio in Dorsoduro (the arty part of town); living on pasta and wine and being inspired daily by these wonderful surroundings, as artists have done here for centuries.

The Magic of Venice

After two previous trips to Italy, which we had thoroughly enjoyed, Jules and I finally made it to Venice. We had interestingly heard so many mixed reactions to this tourist hot spot over the years with previous visitors criticising such things as it’s commercialism, packed streets, the rip off prices, the graffiti, smelly canals and even the run down conditions of its buildings. So with some degree of apprehension, we arrived by boat into this unique and historic city, only to be immediately ‘blown away’ by so many wonderfully clichéd sights! As we would discover, all of the things they had spoken about seemed to be absolutely true, but this was Venice after all and in the height of summer it was just a stunning place to be and all could be forgiven!

Wisely, Jules had organized accommodation in a small hotel in the Dorsoduro district, which is noted for its university and large student population, but more importantly it was a nice distance from the tourist trappings of the St. Marco area. From here we could easily walk over to the wooden Academie Bridge for one of the most picturesque city walks that you could ever hope to experience. As we strolled to the central square, we were frequently tempted to stop at the numerous Murano glass shops, galleries or gelati vendors that lined the route. However, the thing which stopped us in our tracks the most was simply the scenery … Bellisimo!! As we passed over quaint canal bridges, there always seemed to be a scene worthy of the best glossy coffee table book that just had to be photographed. Craning our necks in all directions, it was hard not to look like a tourist, but thankfully with thousands of others doing exactly the same thing we didn’t appear entirely out of place.

Of course the magnet that draws the people from throughout the world is St. Mark’s Square and at any given time there appears to be thousands of tourists milling around admiring what is arguably the most picturesque piazza in Italy. The sight of the Basilica, Bell Tower and Doges Palace are familiar images that have provided the subject matter for literally thousands of memorable paintings. It seems that at some stage, just about every artist of note has visited Venice over the centuries and found inspiration from this truly unique place.

One of the most unexpected features of Venice that we had not anticipated was its quietness. In a place that relies entirely on its countless waterways for transportation, there is a peacefulness that has long been forgotten in our car dominated cities. No noisy engines, beeping horns or screeching tires, no smog, no traffic lights, just walking or boating … simply wonderful! There was something so intrinsically appealing in sitting at the waters edge, watching the boats (of all shapes and sizes) move leisurely up and down the Grand Canal. Of course, the famed Gondolas still provided the most romantic way to slowly navigate the narrow canals and remain as popular as ever.

On a summer night Venice really comes into its own, with countless piazzas and laneways filled with outdoor bars and restaurants with just the sounds of good conversation, laughter and the clinking of glasses and cutlery. On one of the days we were there, the university graduation ceremony was held, so that evening was particularly celebratory. Yet on any given night we found the atmosphere equally as happy and relaxed. As we walked out of a local jazz club on our final night, Jules and I reflected back on the appeal of Venice. Sure, in the height of summer we had seen it in its best possible light, but despite its age and obvious trappings of tourism, it still provided a special piece of magic that for us as seasoned travelers was quite unexpected.

Buying a Japanese House

Living on the outskirts of Osaka, our residential area continues to expand with blocks of land being quickly snapped up and new buildings appearing just months later. Not surprisingly, a ‘housing display park’ has been established within walking distance of our apartment that shows popular styles from many of the leading builders. Not that we’re in the market for buying a new home, but Jules and I couldn’t resist the temptation to pop in and pretend as if we were.

Upon entering, we were initially struck by the sheer size of the gated complex, with some 55 fully furnished homes on display. Unlike display houses in Australia that might have consisted of possibly 6 homes, this was in fact a small neigbourhood that required a street map in order for us to make our way around. As we looked down the roads, we could see some of the typical features of Japanese selling…the use of strange inflated cartoon like characters, which in this case were emerging from several of the first floor balconies. We’re still not quite sure how this approach is supposed to encourage you to buy a house, but we can only assume that if the display is interesting enough to entice small children, perhaps the parents will quickly follow. With an average Japanese house costing anything between 9 -16 million Yen (approx. A$110,000 – 195,000) this is no small purchase and that is assuming that the customer has already invested into a block of land, which is generally more expensive than the actual house itself (despite often being only slightly larger than a postage stamp). So every little incentive is used (including even a lottery draw for small prizes at one house we viewed) to encourage you to take those first tentative steps toward house ownership by simply walking through the doors to view the sample home. Each of the sales staff are particularly attentive (even more so than usual), often standing at the front door with an inviting smile and encouraging you to enter. Leaving our shoes at the door (as is tradition) we were provided with slippers then the mandatory house plan, while the assistant politely followed at a discreet distance behind, eager to answer questions or generally sell the merit of the design (sadly much of the sales ‘patter’ was wasted on us).

The interesting thing that we have learnt about new build housing in Japan is that each home is only expected to last 25 – 30 years and that just like buying a new car, houses depreciate rather than appreciate in value as they get older. It is the land that holds its value, while houses will be eventually demolished to make way for the next generation of design. However for most people, buying a house remains a one off purchase and much effort is made to ensure that it will fulfill the families current and future needs. Despite their small building footprint, most houses pack quite a lot into the design and with many buildings standing three stories tall, there is a surprising amount of space. We found that the Japanese genkan (the entry way where shoes are removed) were now wide and inviting areas, while many homes still found space to incorporate the traditional ‘tatami room’, although often designed with a slightly modern twist. We were pleased that the ‘wet room’ approach to the shower/bathroom had been retained, as this is a concept that Jules and I have increasingly grown to appreciate. Thankfully, ‘futon’ style sleeping and squat toilets appear to have become relics of the past! There is now clear evidence that the Japanese are seeking modernity in their homes with greater emphasis upon kitchen (which Jules loved) and the entertainment areas (which I loved), while the emergence of a new space called the ‘communication centre’ reflected the growing amount of time spent on the computer. We were amazed at the amount of designs we viewed that were clearly influenced by the prairie style of Frank Lloyd Wright, with their use of woodwork, stone and cantilever style roofing. This is quite ironic as the great American designer cited traditional Japanese architecture as his only genuine influence upon his own style during the early 1900’s. Somehow this approach to design had now become totally reversed with one of the salesmen proudly pointing out the reproduction lighting and panel work, the originals of which we had seen only last year when visiting one of Wrights greatest homes, ‘Fallingwater’.

After spending several enjoyable hours at the ‘housing display park’, we left not only with a bag of brochures, but also with a new appreciation for modern Japanese housing. We weren’t buying into the Japanese dream just yet, but as always with this type of experience, it was fun imagining what living in these homes might actually be like. So it was back to the apartment for us, but the next time we walk by a new build home, at least we will have some understanding about the interior design behind the front door and what it takes to buy a Japanese house.

Temple of a Thousand Buddhas

As mentioned previously, Buddhism still remains a mystery to both Jules and myself. Yet, since we have lived here, we’ve developed a healthy respect for its traditions and rituals as well as the various art forms that seek to represent it. As a cultural influence, it is so deeply embedded into the grain of Japanese life that its presence can be felt everywhere as we move around the country. Temples abound, each filled with sacred objects and diverse representations from the Buddhist faith. While many look very similar, we occasionally come across something that is quite unique. Such was the case with the Sanjusangendo Temple in Kyoto, which surprised us in terms of both its scale and visual impact.

This 12th century ‘long building’ is in itself quite monumental, but it is the interior that provides the surprise. It houses the most amazing assemblages of life-sized Buddha statues that are carefully arranged in 10 rows of 100. Covered in gold leaf, each are positioned in a standing pose and while they are said to be identical, the hand-made nature of each figure provides some nice subtle variations to their facial features. Directly in the centre of the mass of statues is a large gold Buddha and interspersed along the full length of the figures are 28 fierce looking guardian deities (supernatural beings).

As it is a sacred place, Jules and I removed our shoes to enter the wooden structure that has seen few changes over the centuries. As we rounded the corner the sight of the seemingly endless line of golden statues created quite an impact. The scale and order of the formation was impressive with each row rising up a level as it moved back. Naturally we had the camera at the ready, but were dashed at the last minute by a large threatening sign forbidding any images from being taken (not usually the case in Japan). We wondered whether this was a religious thing or the custodians simply protecting their commercial asset? Possibly the latter, as it seemed that religious propriety didn’t quite apply to the souvenir shop next door.

While we strolled the long walk passed all of the figures, we were amazed at the sculptural detail, which we learned was all completed by a most respected artist called Tankai (1173-1256), who apparently worked into his 80’s to complete the mammoth task. Quite an achievement and it is not at all surprising that this temple is now regarded as one of the National Treasure of Japan.

As we reached the southern end of the hall and prepared to undertake the long walk back, we learn that the building has yet another facet to it’s long history. In the 17th century, samurai began assembling at the Sanjusangendo Temple to practice their archery skills; this eventually led to an annual tournament called the ‘Tōshiya’. The contest continues to this day and is held in the west verandah of the temple where archers shoot arrows the full length of the 118 metre long hall. Originally these were flaming arrows, so its testament to the accuracy of the archers over the past 250 years that the wooden structure wasn’t accidentally burnt down. It was fascinating to view some of it’s history through the traditional woodcuts that hung on it’s walls, as we both marveled at how such a building could some how still exist after all these years.

With no photos allowed, this is an image of an old postcard (copyright free)