Trier

Trier is also a somewhat obscure city, situated near the German border with Luxembourg. It however dates back to Roman times and the Porta Nigra is a reminder of its origins. It was 2000 years old in 1984. Unwittingly I seemed to have chosen destinations with hidden connections. Like the time I went to Cuba and then to the Canaries immediately after. It turned out that many Cubans had come from the Canaries, and also many Canarians are Cubans who left the country after the revolution and set up cigar manufacturing in the Canaries, no less. But I digress; that belongs to another blog.

I woke rather early and wondered if there was any breakfast served. I didn't think so and so it was, this hostel was a self-service place. I took some cereal from the communal food area and some milk from the common area in the fridge and made do with that. There was another occupant in the kitchen, a very plump cat called Neeza. Obviously she was very good at wheedling food from people; there was a note on the fridge reading: Please do not feed Neeza.

I decided to wait until the office opened to pay for my lodging. Also there was an Internet terminal. They were very nice people in the hostel office. Then I walked to the shopping centre next to the bus terminus and looked through the electrical supermarket and ended up buying a CD by Paolo Fresu and Richard Galliano. I'm not sure now why I didn't go sightseeing right away. Maybe I just got distracted after having not been much of a consumer for weeks.

The Porta Nigra was living up to its name. It looked like it needed a really good scrub. Of course that can't be done, it's world heritage, dirt and all.

The city streets and buildings are neat, in marked contrast to Italy. There were many schoolchildren wandering around, probably on excursion. Also many older tourists. There was a market underway in the square.

I saw a stall with cherries for 6€ a kilo. That was more than I used to pay down south, but these were a different variety, very plump and inviting so I bought ½ kilo.

A touch of colour on a slightly gray day.

This is one face of Trier Cathedral (Dom).

By this time I needed lunch so I walked back to the station where I had seen a kebap shop. Turkish shops are good places to get a cheap meal in Germany. After that an apricot danish from a pastry shop a couple of doors away.

I bought some food at the Kaufland in the shopping centre. Boy they sure do have a lot of cheap wines. Just shows the great buying power of large supermarket chains. Then I took the food back to the hostel where I ate half the cherries (yum!) and saved the other half.

In the afternoon I ventured out again, visiting different streets.

This Apotheke building took my fancy.

One thing puzzled me and that was how to visit towns downstream on the Mosel. The trains didn't go to Berncastel-Kues or Traban-Trarbach. At the tourist office they gave me the timetable of bus line 333. But this was only between the towns of Neumagen and B-K. At the hostel, they printed for me the timetable for another section. Finally I got onto the Internet and looked at the regional transport timetables and understood. Like the blind men and the elephant, they had each given me part of the answer. The bus route is in 4 sections. The Mosel is sinous and its valley deep, so the trains do not reach the smaller towns, only bus services do. It looked like if I wanted to go to the hostel at Traban-Trarbach, I should take the train to Bulay and then backtrack by bus.

At about 1830 I woke from my nap feeling peckish so I started cooking dinner. I was having corned beef with hash potatoes and an omlette. There were a couple of girls in the kitchen making ravioli who sounded like they might be Quebecois. Poor girls, I must have made the kitchen stink of beef. I made too much so I packed the leftovers in foil. I surreptitiously gave a couple of morsels to Neeza.

As I was cooking, it started raining heavily. The weather forecast on the TV said more rain was expected. Well that put paid to my idea of an evening stroll in the city, despite it being still light at 2200. Nothing for it but to read a book and write in the diary, then go to bed.

Korčula

That c with a háček is not unlike the English ch, and that's why I was very tempted to correct the tourist who read the čokolada on the label and asked for a scoop of cokolada ice cream in Ljubijana. But that's later.

Korčula is alleged to be the birthplace of Marco Polo, but that debate is not settled.

On the ferry I met Diana and Laurie, an Ozzie couple from Margaret River who were also disembarking at Korčula. They had driven down from Zagreb and were now travelling up the coast. We lunched together in the town and then started our search for lodging. I took one B&B that was closer to town that they had passed up because I wanted to be within walking distance of dinner later. This is the view looking back toward the town. Note again the crystal clear water.

In the middle of my afternoon siesta, Diana and Laurie called by my place to say that they had arranged for a hire car tomorrow to sightsee the island and would I care to join them? Of course, if you'll let me pay a third of the costs, accepting with alacrity. They can also drop me off at the end of the day in Lumbarda, a village a few km outside of Korčula Town, where I have decided to spend a couple of days.

This feral cat was worried I might want some of its dinner. I was actually quite far away, this was a telephoto shot. And the fish was wrapped in an Italian newspaper, wonder how that happened.

There is actually a restaurant inside this remnant of a tower, but I settled for one inside the old town. The tall blonde Croatian waitress laughed at me when I finally plonked myself down at one of her tables. "I saw you walk past a few times," she said. True, there were many choices and I am fussy. I had mussels with chips. It's magical, eating by candlelight in the street on this breezy evening. I'm sure the other diners in the old town felt the same way. In fact I must have been so diverted that I neglected to take any photos of the old town that evening.