Author Archives: Peter Jones

Tiramisu

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There is believe it or not, a World Cup Tiramisu tournament in Treviso each year. Now in its 6th year it has two categories. Original and creative. So, I guess gold medals for two which seems fair.  They say Treviso is the birthplace of the dish. Invented by Alba Campeol in the early 1960’s from her restaurant Le Beccherie. Inspired by a breakfast recipe of egg yolks and sugar (zabaglione) with espresso it was a sort of energizer to start the day. It literally means “pick me up from down” and I often wonder why people prefer to have it as a dessert that is guaranteed to keep you up all night. It’s probably because it’s so simply delicious and in restaurants it’s easy to prepare and store.  So…Best Tiramisu. Better with with alcohol but not mandatory! Egg yolks and sugar folded into whites with marscapone. Savoiardi or lady fingers then soaked with espresso and rum and decorated with grated chocolate. 

It’s one of two desserts I always choose. The other is crème Brûlée. But I would say it prefer the Italian to the French!

METEORA

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I have been to many places in Greece. The Peloponnesus , many of the beautiful islands and of course Athens. We had stayed on Corfu for a few days. As is the case in so many Greek islands, the influence of the Venetians is everywhere.  But we had a ferry to catch and I had never been to Meteora. We drove from Igounamitza. To the hill town of Metzgo. We arrived in Meteora at sunset. It was a beautiful crisp September evening. I couldn’t believe the apparition in the distance. Huge mountains arising from the plains below. Lights on the top. Monasteries. We stayed at a great hotel, ate at a fabulous restaurant with a train whizzing by everything 15 minutes about 10 yards from the table. We woke up to a great day and drove to the principal mountain and climbed for an hour. Reveled in the history, in awe of how they built these monasteries up here, how they maintained this tradition for so long. We continued to Thessaloniki at the end of the day. Tomorrow sightseeing of this second largest city in Greece.  Another day in magical Greece. 

INVALIDES

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I have never been to the museum at the Invalides. I missed it on my travels. Never took the time. A mistake. It was hot yesterday in Paris and I headed off to Napoleon’s tomb but was meeting up with someone at the museum. And then a travel moment. In the heat of the day, in the main courtyard, it became clear that there were dignitaries arriving. A band had assembled. The inner courtyard had been closed. And we raced up to the next level to catch the parade. And what a parade. A presentation of medals. The band played the Marseillaise. And then it was done. I walked back to Napoleons tomb. It was air conditioned so i stayed a while longer. What an indulgent guy. Big place for after life. Pyramid stuff. Beautiful tourist place. Another incredible Paris sight. So many of them. Never tires. Travel Changes lives! 

Acropolis

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Last person in….  Arrived late into Athens. There was a transportation strike so traffic was unbearable. I got to the hotel late, but it was still light and I strolled through the Plaka and decided that as I was here for one night only, I would fast walk to the Acropolis. It was a good climb through the streets of the Plaka and I could see the imposing hill outside of the Acropolis on my left as I kept walking. I eventually arrived by the entrance and then the guy broke the news, We are closed! I pleaded. I just wanted to see the top. I wouldn’t take long. Eventually he caved. If you can buy a ticket, I will let you in. OK. So, I went down to the ticket office just behind the entrance. The ticket office woman was unhelpful. We are closed. Its 6:30. Sorry!

Then I had the brainwave. I NEED A TICKET FOR TOMORROW I SAID. Tomorrow. Oh, fine. She gave me the ticket and I popped back to my guy at the gate. Handed him the tomorrows entrance ticket, he looked at me, smiled and waved me through. The last person in! The Acropolis looked stunning that night. I was lucky to have had a “travel moment.” I watched the soldiers take the flag down during the nightly ritual and climbed back down. Last in. Last out. What a trip!

Crete

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So here is the thing about Greek Islands. They are fabulous. Turquoise waters, fun in the evenings, dining around a horseshoe harbor, dancing to the beat of traditional music, grilled  fish and octopus and Greek salad, Wow, But when you are traveling, there needs often to be something else. Something beyond the hedonism and sun worshipping. That is why Crete is such an interesting place.

It is the most southern island in the Greek islands and runs parallel to Cyprus and its Italian neighbor Sicily. So, the weather stays warm deep into October. It’s a big Island with vast differences in terrain and full of mountains and gorges and spectacular scenery as you drive around the edges. The interior is high and dramatic and quite green. Mt. Ida is 8,000 feet and full of snow in the winter. You can ski it, but there is no ski infrastructure. For purists only.  

The Samaria Gorge is the largest gorge in Europe, 18 kilometers long and more gorges less imposing close by. There are Venetian harbors and Chania and Rethymnon are sensational seaports. The most beautiful beaches in all of Greece are found on the island. And then there is this ancient city of Knossos near Heraklion that sort of blows you away. 4,000 years old. A Minoan civilization operating around the same time as the Pharaohs in Egypt. This is the bronze age. And a reliably restored and ancient collection of temples and stairways and vases juxtaposed alongside the dreadful new town. But here it is. We arrived late. One hour before closing. No crowds. A few guides hanging around looking for tourists to take them around. And we almost had the place to ourselves. The most ancient city in our western civilization. Minoans. Here we have some semblance of their story before a series of calamities befell them and the Myceneans took over, until they too, were wiped out by an earthquake. The palace is preserved and restored and we owe much to Arthur Evans the English Archaeologist whose statue stands in the grounds of the palace. If you have the time and can avoid the crowds , this is a special visit amidst the intense natural spectacle called Crete.

Stanford’s Bookstore London

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Its tucked away in a modern enclave off Mercer Street in Covent Garden. It once was headquartered on Long Acre but moved just before Covid to its new quarters.  It is without a doubt, the most amazing travel bookstore in the world. Opened by Edward Stanford in 1853, it was primarily a mapmaker’s shop. It opened at the height of colonial exploration and cartography was in great demand. It has the largest collection of maps, globes and maritime charts in the world. It is an amazing place. Adapted to modern times, it survived the onslaught of internet commerce, became a truly international shopping place for all its wares and I have to say, if I had to spend 2 hours in a bookstore every day, this would be the place I would stay.

As a traveler, surrounded by globes, maps, books and guides and knowledgeable people who work there. It’s my favorite place to hang out. Nearest tube is Covent Garden. And one thing is for sure. Guidebooks remain more useful in print than online. They work perfectly. And if you only need a piece of a thick guidebook and can’t carry the whole book with you, tear out the bits you need, peacefully…and save them as a segment for someone else.

God Bless the Queen

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How struck we all were by the display of pageantry and pomp at the funeral of Queen Elizabeth II.  Everyone said the same thing.  The British do this stuff the best. Precision and color on a sad day. Castles and Palaces and people who look similar, slowly trotting behind the funeral car.  People queuing for up to 22 hours to walk past the coffin in Westminster Abbey. Constant coverage on the BBC. Commentators provided background in whispered tones. And then we all were glued. Whether you were a monarchist or a republican. It didn’t matter on that extraordinary day. A peek into royalty, even though the family were a little smudged by drama and scandal, it made it even more fascinating. And then to see a transfer of succession, live on TV. Something we have never witnessed before. The drama of the walk along the Mall from Westminster to Buck House, the procession along the Long walk in Windsor and the absolute precision of every moment. Since 1066, more or less, an uninterrupted monarchy living in a castle and a few stately homes and functioning in what is now a symbolic way, but vital for the people of the UK. Theatre and Royalty. And the most popular icon in the world. The Queen. Now gone. Long live the King.

Car Rental

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Just a snippet of important info if you are renting a car anywhere in Europe. Learn stick shift. The price differentials are staggering. On a recent trip to Crete, the price per day of a regular rental car was 30 Euros. For a stick shift. For automatic. $200.

Bottom line. If you don’t know how, learn or take insurance for full coverage and learn on the fly. After all, when riding stick, once the car takes speed, you are basically in automatic mode and when you come to a traffic light, you can always knock the car into neutral! Just a thought. It will save you 700 Euros a week.

The Lounge chair 

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Maybe I am in the minority. The beach thing. I love what Italians call the stabilimenti.  The organized beach structures that are scattered along the Italian coastline. Complete with chairs, changing cabins, showers and umbrellas.  Originating in Tuscany in the early 19th century, they were conceived as a health retreat that protected privacy and became a fad along the coast lines. Rimini, Lido Venezia, all would be scooped up by the summer stabilimenti. Once the bikini was invented in 1946 and Italy shook off its fascist past, they became almost iconic as part of the furniture of the Italian coast line.

Italian politics 

Spiaggia libera or stabilimento?  Nowadays the  price per month of an umbrella and two beds on a beach in Italy is around $1000. And you own them temporarily.                                              

You are allocated a spot, and no matter what, if you have paid, that spot is yours until the lease runs out! Recently a bill in parliament was debated concerning the seizure of prime spots in the stabilimento. The early towel placers seizing prime location and disappearing until later in the day. Talk of a stabilimeto policing was discussed. Now, in a world where we have a good share of complications in general, it seems absolutely wonderful to imagine that this is being discussed in Italy while the country is perilously close to a return to Mussolini politics! Although in the end, it doesn’t matter. Its Italy. Nothing will really change. Except the government. 20 different prime ministers over 75 years! Ah. Italia!

Brighton

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“Ever since I was a young boy, I played the silver ball…” The Who

I love Brighton. I went to university there. I used to go on day trips when I was young, and even walked to Brighton with a few of my mates when I guess we had nothing better to do. 50 miles. Through the night. Stopped at every pub until they closed on us. Ah. The folies of youth. So, here I was on the London Brighton train for a college reunion of sorts. The train journey from Victoria takes 1 hour. Memories of youth as we sped across the English countryside enroute to the sea. I took a cab to the Hotel du Vin. Recommended as it’s in the “Lanes” and central to everything you need. We took the train out to Falmer, wandered around the university campus, rekindled memories of what I could barely remember and then headed back to the fun of Brighton proper.

Brighton became famous in the late 18 century as a vacation spot for the Prince regent, later George IV. Architect John Nash built the famous Brighton Pavilion in in the early 19th century just for him…decadent to say the least. Towards the end of the 19th century, the two famous Victorian piers were erected. Although the west Pier was “wiped out” in a storm. It has a metal skeletal frame and is preserved out in the sea for a potential future project. The Palace Pier, with its iconic fun, fair, roller coaster and slide still remains. I think the Santa Monica pier is modeled on it.

Brighton is famous for its labyrinthian lanes with shops and restaurants inside the tiny world of narrow alleyways that spill onto the seafront. Brighton is often called London by the sea. It has the buzz of a cool neighborhood in London, but with the super advantage of a sea front and a mix of traditional and modern scattered by the boat houses along the lower front. Sushi and jellied eels! Beyond Brighton, much to see. Lewes and Rottingdean stand out. I love the buzz of the place. If I lived in England, I think I would consider living in Brighton. But that’s another story. Another day!

Hotel du Vin Brighton

Summer in Rome

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I have been coming to Rome for nearly half a century. Following the same route into town. Turn left onto the Aventine, drive along the perimeter of the Palatine, Circus Maximus below, right past the Bocca de Verita, past the Teatro Marcello on the left, slow down by the stairs of the Cordonata and the majestic entrance to the Campidoglio where Castor and Pollux stand guard, around to the Grand whiteness of the Vittorio Emanuel building and the Piazza Venezia and you have covered 2000 years of history.  And I always smile at the thought on my mind.  It never gets old. The days are too hot, for sure. Blistering sun attacking the faithful tourists who struggle over those ancient cobbled stones. Trailing behind their guides and translators. Armed with headsets and hats to ward of the suns venomous rays. Desperate for that water fountain, the grateful residual remains of roman ingenuity and baroque decoration or the shade of a statue that has been providing cover for 5 hundred years. And it all seems so hot and impossible and then the sun breaks and evening time settles in, and the colors start their magical transformation. And then you realize that the show has just begun.

Summer Paris

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It’s the light. The summer sun hanging above the incredible array of places and monuments that are iconic. Paris is a masterpiece. Standing at the Carousel and looking down through the arches to la Defense, you capture the beauty of this place. The Tuileries in their dusty measured landscape detail, the surprises at the Luxembourg gardens as every day Paris gets on with its leisure life of tennis and running and Petanque.   In between sitting in the chairs that are scattered around for people with less sporty aspirations. And in the summer when the light remains until after11 pm it is simply magical. I have been coming here for many years. Every time it remains intoxicating. A perfectly laid out city. Not jumbled but precision layout thanks to monsieur Haussmann. And then the sights. One on top of the other. The Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, the Invalids, the Louvre the Musee d’Orsay and of course the Eiffel Tower. Glittering like a sparkler every hour. From the top of Montmartre, the city is a show unto itself. It’s good for the soul. 

Gare du Nord ☹ Charles de Gaulle ☹

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It has to be strange to have the most beautiful city in the world accolade.  Unquestionably Paris.  And yet the most dreadful welcome hubs. Charles de Gaulle airport and Gare du Nord. Planes and trains. Why do they do it to us. Not a city in the European stratosphere has such bad opening acts. And that’s important. I would love to feel blown away at the beginning. The station or airport. I think of Heathrow and St. Pancras.  Fabulous and cities unto themselves.  The city of Paris is the goal scorer. Incredible and breathtaking. At evening light or in the harsh light of the day. Its stunning!  But it would be lovely to jump off the train at the Gare du Nord and feel…. wow.  Instead of Help!  To try to feel positive about Charles de Gaulle instead of wondering where the gate is and why am I in the wrong bit of the terminal. Come on Paris. Let’s be as sensational at the beginning as you are once the game kicks in!

Covid Thoughts

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After Covid there has been a massive resurgence in travel. Some figures give 2022 fourth quarter as higher than 2019 fourth quarter.  Some issues have developed.  Demand is outstripping supply everywhere. Hotels, airlines, staff restaurants etc. etc.  There is a shortage of everything and people who have been locked down are racing to get out.  Cities are full, planes are running at 100 % plus capacity, and if there was a year with cancellations and delays to outdo this one I have never seen it.

Hey. It’s great to travel again. Great to be back. But it’s going to take time.  Some of the vital services we need for travel, the bus drivers and restaurant staff, the museum personnel etc.  have simply not reappeared.  Covid presented different lifestyle opportunities.  Remote work became a competitor for some jobs.  Staying at home became a viable way to make money and some of the jobs we took for granted will never quite recover their staff.  In our field, travel is particularly affected. But we need to discover. To wander and wonder again.  To breathe the air of those ancient cities once more.

Airports look ragged at the moment. Train stations too. It’s going to take time to bring the waters up to meet these pent-up demands.  But.. hey. I was surprised when they checked my vaccine card at the Eurostar enroute to France and it made me think. We have just come out of a 2-year suspension of life. Each moment we experience from the end of Covid is a moment of wonder.  

Margate

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I haven’t been back to Margate since I was a kid.  Mum and dad would diligently save all their money so that we could have a 2-week holiday every year. Nothing fancy.  A train journey of about 4 hours to the Thanet Coast and a small room in Margate at a guesthouse.  We had to clear out for the day no matter the weather. Rain and cool weather. It didn’t matter. We would take our pack of macs to the beach and boil the water for some tea.

So. Here I am. Nearly a half century later. It was a sunny day. Very hot. and I decided to take a day trip from St. Pancras to the seaside and revisit Margate. My childhood holiday town. The journey was now about an hour and a half and from the station I was able to walk to the town. From a distance it looked vaguely familiar. A sweep of sandy beach. Tide was up. An ugly building that was my focal point called Dreamland, an amusement park that occupied our evenings and the pier in the distance. I walked the town. It was crowded and not quite what I remembered. The beach was full of windbreakers and deck chairs and people. Lots of people and  it was high tide.  Not much room to move. I walked to the old pier. Had some jellied eels and cockles with vinegar and wandered through  the old town and visited the Turner Museum. A change from  the rapture of heaving bodies on the beach. The tide needed to go out!! I thought of memories of holidays and was grateful that I came down.. Margate. Did it. I think it’s a memory better left undone.