Here's a selection of three dog photos spotted in one day in Copenhagen; one doggie appears to take Visa, but we think only the stuffed ones are really for sale.
James
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Doggies in windows
We understand from Chris that Toby, our dog, is having a great time without us. "Bev and James who?" he is supposed to have said when asked about it. Nevertheless, we are missing him, so we do rather tend to spot dogs as we go.
Here's a selection of three dog photos spotted in one day in Copenhagen; one doggie appears to take Visa, but we think only the stuffed ones are really for sale.
James
Here's a selection of three dog photos spotted in one day in Copenhagen; one doggie appears to take Visa, but we think only the stuffed ones are really for sale.
James
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
MAN Magnets in Munich
We had a great time in Munch, and both enjoyed this first visit to this part of Germany. Bev was, of course, familiar with the other side of the country from previous visits, but it was my first time in Germany at all. When we hit Munich city centre, there was a MAN truck 'show' set up by the company. As Bev said, they were clearly MAN magnets, and it was an interesting odd sidelight to the trip - so with no more ado:
A nice big red MAN truck. And me.
Very carefully arranged badges.
The world's cleanest cement truck?
Shiny.
The backdrop was quite appealing as well.
And there was some lovely historic signwriting on the vehicles too.
Including on this post wagon.
A very old one; note the solid tyres.
And a traction engine. Steam. Mmm.
More soon, but that should keep our truck enthusiasts happy.
James
A nice big red MAN truck. And me.
Very carefully arranged badges.
The world's cleanest cement truck?
Shiny.
The backdrop was quite appealing as well.
And there was some lovely historic signwriting on the vehicles too.
Including on this post wagon.
A very old one; note the solid tyres.
And a traction engine. Steam. Mmm.More soon, but that should keep our truck enthusiasts happy.
James
The Danish 'planes
I've had some requests for more 'aviation content'; so for those allergic to old aeroplanes, you may wish to skip this chapter; others may give it a go, and who knows, you might even find it interesting. Bev did suggest I tell you more too.
Denmark is a country where the two main aircraft collections are in opposite corners. If you went further in either direction - you fall off...
One direction is a place called Skjern, on the far western side of Jutland. If you leave Stanning airport in a westerly direction, there's a lake, a sand spit, and after that, the North Sea and Scotland. Someone decided that this was clearly the best place to gather all the main independent aviation collections in the country, including the Royal Danish Air Force's official collection. It's called the Danmarks Flymuseum. I don't give up easily on an aircraft museum (more on this anon) and so we slogged right across the country (Copenhagen being, basically, the other side) to get there. Ferries, trains and taxis were all involved, at Danish prices.
It was worth it.
The world's only surviving Hawker Danecock was part of the museum's display, and was a core item in the schools tour on the day we were there.
The funny thing about seeing a Danish museum volunteer giving a guided tour, is that's exactly what I do, but more than half a world away at the RAAF Museum at Point Cook. The language is different, but the subject, kids and skills required are essentially the same. They seemed interested, and though I couldn't understand any Danish, the themes subject were clear enough. He was doing a good job.
As well as the Danecock, they also have a wonderful range of Danish designed and built KZ aircraft, including two of their air ambulances. The very friendly museum staff kindly allowed me to cross the ropes and get lots of detail photographs of this and other aircraft for future publications. Cue happy author and (in the camera) some very hot batteries, plus 1,000 or so photos...
Great museum, and, should you find yourself about to fall off Denmark give it a go!
The radar seems to have a 'have a nice day' face. As it's connected to a missile system, maybe it's more like the defence system of Magrathea...
We then headed back, having seen from train windows a remarkable amount of Denmark. This included some of the first thatched houses we'd seen for quite some time, as well as black and white timber frame (below). We were impressed with the train service, the sheer number of Danish teenies travelling on the trains, how quiet and calm it all was (apart from near the teenies) and the convenience of the service.
There will be more...
James
Denmark is a country where the two main aircraft collections are in opposite corners. If you went further in either direction - you fall off...
One direction is a place called Skjern, on the far western side of Jutland. If you leave Stanning airport in a westerly direction, there's a lake, a sand spit, and after that, the North Sea and Scotland. Someone decided that this was clearly the best place to gather all the main independent aviation collections in the country, including the Royal Danish Air Force's official collection. It's called the Danmarks Flymuseum. I don't give up easily on an aircraft museum (more on this anon) and so we slogged right across the country (Copenhagen being, basically, the other side) to get there. Ferries, trains and taxis were all involved, at Danish prices.
It was worth it.
The world's only surviving Hawker Danecock was part of the museum's display, and was a core item in the schools tour on the day we were there.
The funny thing about seeing a Danish museum volunteer giving a guided tour, is that's exactly what I do, but more than half a world away at the RAAF Museum at Point Cook. The language is different, but the subject, kids and skills required are essentially the same. They seemed interested, and though I couldn't understand any Danish, the themes subject were clear enough. He was doing a good job.As well as the Danecock, they also have a wonderful range of Danish designed and built KZ aircraft, including two of their air ambulances. The very friendly museum staff kindly allowed me to cross the ropes and get lots of detail photographs of this and other aircraft for future publications. Cue happy author and (in the camera) some very hot batteries, plus 1,000 or so photos...
Great museum, and, should you find yourself about to fall off Denmark give it a go!
The radar seems to have a 'have a nice day' face. As it's connected to a missile system, maybe it's more like the defence system of Magrathea...We then headed back, having seen from train windows a remarkable amount of Denmark. This included some of the first thatched houses we'd seen for quite some time, as well as black and white timber frame (below). We were impressed with the train service, the sheer number of Danish teenies travelling on the trains, how quiet and calm it all was (apart from near the teenies) and the convenience of the service.
There will be more...
James
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Denmark, where the wind comes whistling o’er the planes…
Yes, planes.
We’re in Denmark, that’s rural Denmark, with wide green flat fields, white square fortified church towers with red roofs, efficient trains, and exciting planes. Cute little red and white airplanes; that’s how you know you’re in Denmark.
The Danish Aviation Museum definitely gets my gong for the most isolated air museum I’ve seen. I am sure that James will thrill with stories of the very rare or unique aircraft, but if it were left to me, I would tell you that there are some very cute airplanes in here, of classic clean 1930s design, with red and white flags on the tails. (Now it’s up to James and his friends to set the record straight…..)
While he takes pictures, I’m in the very nice little café, playing on the laptop and eating chocolate. Mmm.
I like Denmark. And not just for the chocolate. (All of the food, even in supermarkets, is incredibly expensive here. – That is, EXCEPT for chocolate, which is half the price we pay in Australia for the good stuff. Tag, danke, thank you, merci, that’s great!) So imagine the divine gustation of orange-studded dark Belgian chocolate as you read on…
We arrived a couple of days ago from Munich, delayed, hot, tired and somewhat flustered. After the excitement of Venice, Paris and Munich, both of us had started to speak of a hankering to get away from the cities to somewhere peaceful. So we declined the hotel in Copenhagen and headed for the tourist information booth at the airport, where we met a lovely woman on staff who immediately perceived what we were after and found us a beautiful historic BandB overlooking a harbour in a small town we hadn’t even heard of.
(The BandB is the white building on the left).
I think it was when I said, “I’m so tired. I need to go somewhere small and peaceful near the sea”, and we got a big smile and an enthusiastic recommendation – "Oh, I’ll send you to the town near the island where my parents live – there’s a lovely new BandB, just opened a week or two ago, it’s beautiful..."
And she was so right, and it was perfect, and she took a lot of trouble, even calling her son to help her find the name and number of the owner so we could book in (the BandB not being properly advertised and up and running yet).
So we spent two quiet days looking at the fishing boats, walking along the sea wall, sleeping and making our own meals in the huge attic kitchen of the BandB.
Up on the top floor by the kitchen, there's a deck area, where we were sitting, watching the boats one evening while the next day’s lunch was cooking – hard boiled eggs (the economical option in Denmark!)
While we were there, a fellow guest, a nice cap from Newcastle with a very broad Newcastle accent, bumped into a Danish grandpa in the kitchen, and this is the conversation we overheard from out on the deck:
(You have to do this with accents on both parts, one strong Newcastle UK, one Danish).
- “Hi.”
- “Hej.”
Both men nod and smile.
The Danish grandpa looks at the pot on the stove:
- “Aeg?”
- “Egg.”
- “Ja. Aeg?”
- “Yes, Egg.”
- “Och, Aeg!”
- “Mm, eggs.”
At which point I stuck my head in and more smiling and nodding ensued. I’m not sure who was more difficult to understand: Newcastle or Denmark.
The aegs were nice, though.
***
I’m finding Danish fascinating. As a language it seems incomprehensible (and of course, it mainly is), but when I’m eavesdropping I can hear a lot of similarities with German, and much of the gist of what’s going on makes sense, even if the pronunciation defies me.
Another nice tourist office staff gave me a lesson in pronouncing place names yesterday which was a giggle when she realised I'd got it right... (I have to say, the tourist offices in Denmark are the nicest, most helpful, welcoming and friendly we have met anywhere on this trip or any other I can remember. I’m really, really impressed).
When we took the ferry from Kalundborg to Århus, on the first leg of our trek across Denmark to the aviation museum, we sailed on a ferry that was a heaving mass of schoolkids off for school summer camp. As we awaited embarkation, a very pleasant ferry crew man, a deck traffic crew, got talking to James and was hilarious on the topic.
He reckoned they were carrying all the children from the mainland to the islands and then back again. “Their parents pack them these big suitcases because they think they are going to wash every day! They don’t know the truth – if they put a shilling under the soap, the kids wouldn’t find it by the end of the week…” Another friendly Dane, he let us on the boat through the truck deck and up to get our pick of seats before the school kids washed through the shop like a tidal wave of noise……
And two and a half hour later, we emerged, battered, from a ferry that was a wreck of crumbled biscuits, crisp packets and icecream wrappers.
But to go back to my interest in the language, the school kids were clearly easy to understand: it all goes a bitlike this:
- "oogledee boogledee oggledee"
- "Oggledee boggledee" - TONK!
- "BOG-ledee - OW!"
The physical part is universal. And the teachers; "Erasmus, Symon, SHTOP!" - despite the pronunciation and the amazing names (Erasmus?) - the intent was pretty clear....
***
Tonight we go to Odense. That’s pronounced *sneeze *. Then towards Copenhagen and two nights at Helsingør, the town with the castle that caught the eye of a guy called William Shakespeare, writing some play called Hamlet. (“Omlet, Omlet, ich bin de Papa spooky” – Ask the Laing family).
We’re enjoying our time, we appreciate the friendly and interesting Danes we’ve met, and we’ve coined a new term, which is bøgan. Thankfully, there aren’t many of them in Denmark (although the following family crest is a bit of a concern...) another plus for this lovely place.
Save your sheckels and come to Denmark. Live on bread, apples, and boiled eggs, and take the trains, which run on time. I definitely want to come back already.
Bev
We’re in Denmark, that’s rural Denmark, with wide green flat fields, white square fortified church towers with red roofs, efficient trains, and exciting planes. Cute little red and white airplanes; that’s how you know you’re in Denmark.
The Danish Aviation Museum definitely gets my gong for the most isolated air museum I’ve seen. I am sure that James will thrill with stories of the very rare or unique aircraft, but if it were left to me, I would tell you that there are some very cute airplanes in here, of classic clean 1930s design, with red and white flags on the tails. (Now it’s up to James and his friends to set the record straight…..)
While he takes pictures, I’m in the very nice little café, playing on the laptop and eating chocolate. Mmm.
I like Denmark. And not just for the chocolate. (All of the food, even in supermarkets, is incredibly expensive here. – That is, EXCEPT for chocolate, which is half the price we pay in Australia for the good stuff. Tag, danke, thank you, merci, that’s great!) So imagine the divine gustation of orange-studded dark Belgian chocolate as you read on…
We arrived a couple of days ago from Munich, delayed, hot, tired and somewhat flustered. After the excitement of Venice, Paris and Munich, both of us had started to speak of a hankering to get away from the cities to somewhere peaceful. So we declined the hotel in Copenhagen and headed for the tourist information booth at the airport, where we met a lovely woman on staff who immediately perceived what we were after and found us a beautiful historic BandB overlooking a harbour in a small town we hadn’t even heard of.
(The BandB is the white building on the left).
I think it was when I said, “I’m so tired. I need to go somewhere small and peaceful near the sea”, and we got a big smile and an enthusiastic recommendation – "Oh, I’ll send you to the town near the island where my parents live – there’s a lovely new BandB, just opened a week or two ago, it’s beautiful..."
And she was so right, and it was perfect, and she took a lot of trouble, even calling her son to help her find the name and number of the owner so we could book in (the BandB not being properly advertised and up and running yet).
So we spent two quiet days looking at the fishing boats, walking along the sea wall, sleeping and making our own meals in the huge attic kitchen of the BandB.
Up on the top floor by the kitchen, there's a deck area, where we were sitting, watching the boats one evening while the next day’s lunch was cooking – hard boiled eggs (the economical option in Denmark!)
While we were there, a fellow guest, a nice cap from Newcastle with a very broad Newcastle accent, bumped into a Danish grandpa in the kitchen, and this is the conversation we overheard from out on the deck:
(You have to do this with accents on both parts, one strong Newcastle UK, one Danish).
- “Hi.”
- “Hej.”
Both men nod and smile.
The Danish grandpa looks at the pot on the stove:
- “Aeg?”
- “Egg.”
- “Ja. Aeg?”
- “Yes, Egg.”
- “Och, Aeg!”
- “Mm, eggs.”
At which point I stuck my head in and more smiling and nodding ensued. I’m not sure who was more difficult to understand: Newcastle or Denmark.
The aegs were nice, though.
***
I’m finding Danish fascinating. As a language it seems incomprehensible (and of course, it mainly is), but when I’m eavesdropping I can hear a lot of similarities with German, and much of the gist of what’s going on makes sense, even if the pronunciation defies me.
Another nice tourist office staff gave me a lesson in pronouncing place names yesterday which was a giggle when she realised I'd got it right... (I have to say, the tourist offices in Denmark are the nicest, most helpful, welcoming and friendly we have met anywhere on this trip or any other I can remember. I’m really, really impressed).
When we took the ferry from Kalundborg to Århus, on the first leg of our trek across Denmark to the aviation museum, we sailed on a ferry that was a heaving mass of schoolkids off for school summer camp. As we awaited embarkation, a very pleasant ferry crew man, a deck traffic crew, got talking to James and was hilarious on the topic.
He reckoned they were carrying all the children from the mainland to the islands and then back again. “Their parents pack them these big suitcases because they think they are going to wash every day! They don’t know the truth – if they put a shilling under the soap, the kids wouldn’t find it by the end of the week…” Another friendly Dane, he let us on the boat through the truck deck and up to get our pick of seats before the school kids washed through the shop like a tidal wave of noise……
And two and a half hour later, we emerged, battered, from a ferry that was a wreck of crumbled biscuits, crisp packets and icecream wrappers.
But to go back to my interest in the language, the school kids were clearly easy to understand: it all goes a bitlike this:
- "oogledee boogledee oggledee"
- "Oggledee boggledee" - TONK!
- "BOG-ledee - OW!"
The physical part is universal. And the teachers; "Erasmus, Symon, SHTOP!" - despite the pronunciation and the amazing names (Erasmus?) - the intent was pretty clear....
***
Tonight we go to Odense. That’s pronounced *sneeze *
We’re enjoying our time, we appreciate the friendly and interesting Danes we’ve met, and we’ve coined a new term, which is bøgan. Thankfully, there aren’t many of them in Denmark (although the following family crest is a bit of a concern...) another plus for this lovely place.
Save your sheckels and come to Denmark. Live on bread, apples, and boiled eggs, and take the trains, which run on time. I definitely want to come back already.
Bev
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Good things in Germany
Guten Tag, my little pumpkins, the B and J travel show is in Germany, and there are very many good things to enjoy....
A random list of good things in Germany:
It’s been a very brief 3-day visit to Munich, but a most enjoyable one. We came here specifically, on James’ request, because of the enormous Deutsches Museum, the technical museum for the nation, three halls of which are based in Munich, two halls (museums in their own right) elsewhere.
It’s the biggest conglomeration of technical museu-ology in the world. Munich also happened to be one of the hubs out of which we could pick up our round-the-world flight again (it conformed to all the criteria including obscure rules about airlines and total mileage – dull but important). And so here we are.
Yesterday, we looked around the Deutsches Museum, Munich city branch, which is a bloody huge place, with halls of boats, aircraft, paper-making, printing, ceramics, and even a hall for mechanical toys! We had a lovely day there while the rain chucked itself all over Munich – sight-seeing yesterday would have required a boat (or perhaps a submarine?!)
James got a little overheated in the aircraft hall, while I wandered cheerfully through rooms of ceramic kilns, printing presses, glass furnaces, toys, pottery, models and displays, artefacts and art shows.
It was mainly deserted in places and most relaxing – I borrowed James’ beloved moleskin notebook and sat on the floor, drawing objects that took my eye. What fun!
The exhibits mainly follow a pattern, which includes a bit of didactic history illustrated with objects – so for example you see some pre-Egyptian pottery, and then one or two objects describe the evolution of pottery techniques, through Greek red-figure ware, with panels showing how it was done, to Bavarian urns and beer steins, and models of people working kilns, factories and painting workshops.
They even had a great series of ‘how it’s made’ porcelain figures, with each piece (arm, leg, head, body) encased in its mould, then the pieces being assembled, then the under-fired version, the first painting, and finally....
Voila! ‘Your porcelain shepherdess in an unlikely pose is ready for your purchase, Sir.’
I could have spent many rainy days puzzling over the captions (some in English), and looking at the displays, with many a stop to gaze out the windows over the pepper-pot rooftops of the town, the rain and the river.
The highlight? The toy section. Hundreds of examples of toys, building blocks, meccano, and lego-like construction kits, some activated by solar lamps, some with turn handles, many in their original, faded and battered boxes. The best were the advertisements and posters in the cabinet with the toys.
I loved the design and the irony.....
(would Hans really be handing the toy to Karl in such a polite fashion? I think the real picture would have been more along the lines of; “TONK! Gimme that Karl – WAAA!”
… and the colours and typefaces.
(I hung out in this gallery for quite some time.)
Then last night, we strolled up to the university, which is just a step from our hotel and all around this area (there was a lecture going on in the room directly opposite our hotel, most amusing), and we found an excellent grad-student style pub, relaxed chatter and good food, with a waitress who smiled widely, wracked her brains and wished us a very nice weekend as we left. Very hubsch, and a friendly place.
It’s been great to visit, even if briefly, and I will be sad to leave.
But there's cherry strudel to look forward to next time we return....
Bev
A random list of good things in Germany:
- Apple cake
- Mechanical toys
- Old trucks and vans
- Buildings with pale pink or yellow facades – with white plaster decorations or fresco’d geometric patterns
- A clean, quiet, efficient public transport system (oh yes, hallelujah, hooray)
- An amazing sewing shop - the (Kauf)Haus of Sinne! (you translate that one....)
- Pubs, particularly grad student places with cheap, good food and a convivial atmosphere
- Sausages
- and.... not to be confused.... sausage dogs with wavy tails and friendly faces.
It’s been a very brief 3-day visit to Munich, but a most enjoyable one. We came here specifically, on James’ request, because of the enormous Deutsches Museum, the technical museum for the nation, three halls of which are based in Munich, two halls (museums in their own right) elsewhere.It’s the biggest conglomeration of technical museu-ology in the world. Munich also happened to be one of the hubs out of which we could pick up our round-the-world flight again (it conformed to all the criteria including obscure rules about airlines and total mileage – dull but important). And so here we are.
Yesterday, we looked around the Deutsches Museum, Munich city branch, which is a bloody huge place, with halls of boats, aircraft, paper-making, printing, ceramics, and even a hall for mechanical toys! We had a lovely day there while the rain chucked itself all over Munich – sight-seeing yesterday would have required a boat (or perhaps a submarine?!)
James got a little overheated in the aircraft hall, while I wandered cheerfully through rooms of ceramic kilns, printing presses, glass furnaces, toys, pottery, models and displays, artefacts and art shows.
It was mainly deserted in places and most relaxing – I borrowed James’ beloved moleskin notebook and sat on the floor, drawing objects that took my eye. What fun!
The exhibits mainly follow a pattern, which includes a bit of didactic history illustrated with objects – so for example you see some pre-Egyptian pottery, and then one or two objects describe the evolution of pottery techniques, through Greek red-figure ware, with panels showing how it was done, to Bavarian urns and beer steins, and models of people working kilns, factories and painting workshops.
They even had a great series of ‘how it’s made’ porcelain figures, with each piece (arm, leg, head, body) encased in its mould, then the pieces being assembled, then the under-fired version, the first painting, and finally....
Voila! ‘Your porcelain shepherdess in an unlikely pose is ready for your purchase, Sir.’
I could have spent many rainy days puzzling over the captions (some in English), and looking at the displays, with many a stop to gaze out the windows over the pepper-pot rooftops of the town, the rain and the river.
The highlight? The toy section. Hundreds of examples of toys, building blocks, meccano, and lego-like construction kits, some activated by solar lamps, some with turn handles, many in their original, faded and battered boxes. The best were the advertisements and posters in the cabinet with the toys.
I loved the design and the irony.....
(would Hans really be handing the toy to Karl in such a polite fashion? I think the real picture would have been more along the lines of; “TONK! Gimme that Karl – WAAA!”
… and the colours and typefaces.
(I hung out in this gallery for quite some time.)
Then last night, we strolled up to the university, which is just a step from our hotel and all around this area (there was a lecture going on in the room directly opposite our hotel, most amusing), and we found an excellent grad-student style pub, relaxed chatter and good food, with a waitress who smiled widely, wracked her brains and wished us a very nice weekend as we left. Very hubsch, and a friendly place.
It’s been great to visit, even if briefly, and I will be sad to leave.
But there's cherry strudel to look forward to next time we return....
Bev
Thursday, June 5, 2008
A Glass Lion in a Church of Reason
Tuesday, 3rd June was a great day in Paris. We first went to the Musée des Arts et Metiers, which was, currently free, putting it ahead of most museums we’ve visited so far, and uncrowded, putting it significantly ahead of the Louvre which was a zoo.
This museum includes a great range of items, some choice examples of which are shown below. (-And it's in an ex-Abbey church, an added bonus!)
One top one was a life-size model of a lion being attacked by a snake, and with a fly on its flank, all made as a demonstration of the possibilities of spun glass. Some company placement!
Sundials? For weaklings. What we want is a sundial which fires a miniature cannon at the correct hour. Telling the time...
This little item is a mechanical marionette which played for Marie Antoinette. She may have had a rebuild or two, but she's still got her head.
And there were several very old aircraft. This is Adler's steam powered aircraft - it flew, briefly, and crashed. The engine is a work of art...
The unimpressive looking item in the middle is Galileo's telescope. Proof positive it's not the tools, but the user that counts...
Unbeatable, and mentioned by Greg from his last visit (and well spotted Sean, have a warm fuzzy feeling) is Bleriot's original aircraft that he flew the Channel with. Getting up on the gantry was a wobbly vertiginous experience, not enjoyed by many (I hated it more than any flight I've been on) but then, looking at this aircraft that Louis got lost midway in a cloud, gave me a sense of proportion about it all. Brave man, and a bit of a hero. And he had a leg in plaster!
We then went onto the Musée d'Orsay: the Louvre's collection from 1848(ish) to the early 20th century, so it's got 'the good stuff' [according to James! - Ed.] and is light on: a) Jesus & his mum (JDK TM) and has smaller b) crowds and is c) in an old railway station - score.
Oxford's Sheldonian is surrounded by statues known by some as 'the history of beards'. This appeared to be a French version...
A stunning model of the Paris Opera. We couldn't find the coin slot to get the fat lady to sing, but otherwise it was perfect...
Art class was never like this when I was studying...
[... Oh, except for the kids not paying attention in the back - Ed.]
And then some random Paris moments to wrap up. London's Tube iconography is hard to beat, but the Metro's about there, I think.
What, why?
DINNER!
[Cop an eyeful of those Tarts! Snarf, Snarf, smmmfff. - B]
And dinner window shopping...
We managed to have dinner with our friends Eileen and Greg from Toronto, and the waiter kindly took a picture on Eileen's camera (pic stolen from her...) - of himself - then of us!
And a final flag foto from me...
Cheers,
James (with added bits by Bev)
This museum includes a great range of items, some choice examples of which are shown below. (-And it's in an ex-Abbey church, an added bonus!)
One top one was a life-size model of a lion being attacked by a snake, and with a fly on its flank, all made as a demonstration of the possibilities of spun glass. Some company placement!
Sundials? For weaklings. What we want is a sundial which fires a miniature cannon at the correct hour. Telling the time...
This little item is a mechanical marionette which played for Marie Antoinette. She may have had a rebuild or two, but she's still got her head.
And there were several very old aircraft. This is Adler's steam powered aircraft - it flew, briefly, and crashed. The engine is a work of art...
The unimpressive looking item in the middle is Galileo's telescope. Proof positive it's not the tools, but the user that counts...
Unbeatable, and mentioned by Greg from his last visit (and well spotted Sean, have a warm fuzzy feeling) is Bleriot's original aircraft that he flew the Channel with. Getting up on the gantry was a wobbly vertiginous experience, not enjoyed by many (I hated it more than any flight I've been on) but then, looking at this aircraft that Louis got lost midway in a cloud, gave me a sense of proportion about it all. Brave man, and a bit of a hero. And he had a leg in plaster!
We then went onto the Musée d'Orsay: the Louvre's collection from 1848(ish) to the early 20th century, so it's got 'the good stuff' [according to James! - Ed.] and is light on: a) Jesus & his mum (JDK TM) and has smaller b) crowds and is c) in an old railway station - score.
Oxford's Sheldonian is surrounded by statues known by some as 'the history of beards'. This appeared to be a French version...
A stunning model of the Paris Opera. We couldn't find the coin slot to get the fat lady to sing, but otherwise it was perfect...
Art class was never like this when I was studying...
[... Oh, except for the kids not paying attention in the back - Ed.]
And then some random Paris moments to wrap up. London's Tube iconography is hard to beat, but the Metro's about there, I think.
What, why?
DINNER!
[Cop an eyeful of those Tarts! Snarf, Snarf, smmmfff. - B]
And dinner window shopping...
We managed to have dinner with our friends Eileen and Greg from Toronto, and the waiter kindly took a picture on Eileen's camera (pic stolen from her...) - of himself - then of us!
And a final flag foto from me...
Cheers,
James (with added bits by Bev)
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