Vienna to Barcelona: two-weeks across Europe
- Matthew P G
- 1 hour ago
- 65 min read
October 2025
Backstory
During my time working in Saudi Arabia and Iraq, I travelled through Europe often - it was "nearby" and I was earning good money. That all ended with COVID. I returned to Pennsylvania and stayed with my brother for a time to help him with our fading mother and then moved to the Perry Place Refuge to figure out what I was going to do next. I ended up in Bangladesh working non-stop for three and a half years. In the end, my last trip to Europe had been early January 2020 and I did not return until October 2025.
My goal was to visit a few places I had not yet been (bucket list checks) and to close gaps on my trip across the Eurasian landmass. If all went well, by the end of the trip, I would have travelled from Shanghai, China to A Coruña, Spain overland. However, I was racked with anxiety. I was older and the world had changed a lot post-COVID. For as much as I wanted to do it, I felt very tentative.
After completing the big cruise from New York to LA with my brother [see: Island Princess], I ended up in Los Angeles. I stayed with old friend TFR for almost a week, madly preparing for the trip. I had only bought the plane ticket with no advance hotel reservations. That turned out to be expensive, but then again - I was balking at travelling heavily scripted several months in advance as I usually did. I wasn't sure that was such a good idea due to being burned during COVID when I lost an entire trip (and a lot of money) after the pandemic hit.
T drove me to LAX and I boarded a plane to Dubai.
Highland Park
LAX
Dubai
The trip to Vienna required one detour, Dubai. The reason was two-fold. First and foremost, I wanted to spend time with my very old and dear friend, MWK. I hadn't seen him much during the Bangladesh years (in fact, only once - he was the only friend I visited internationally). However, there was a secondary reason - to change money. Europe has gone largely cashless and changing money in the US before leaving was at a horrible rate. Changing money upon arrival in Europe was only slightly better. In Dubai, rates were excellent and fees were low - it made changing a large amount worthwhile.
I arrived in the evening and we had a long talk and slept.
I woke early and had coffee at Caribou Coffee (Canadian chain). It was my favorite coffee shop in Dubai only because I frequented it for breakfast on all my stopovers. MWK was not a morning person, so I usually woke before him, had my coffee, and checked the news on my own.
After M woke and showered, we walked down the street to a money-changer where I exchanged the necessary amount. We then went for a cheap Dubai shave and haircut ($3). We lunched at Aroos Damascus, our all-time-favorite in the city. M and I shared many good meals there over the years. We noted that the prices had gone up and the portions had shrunk (as is the case worldwide).
After lunch, we took the metro to Mall of the Emirates (I was tired of Dubai Mall even if it provides incredible views of Burj Khalifa). We noted how crowded the metro was - M and I remembered riding after it first opened and the trains ran almost empty. At the time I said to him, "If this continues, it will never succeed." Boy was I wrong - Dubai metro is heavily used now, just not by Emiratis (they float on personal clouds everywhere).
At Mall of the Emirates, we had coffee at Costa (UK chain) overlooking Ski Dubai, one of the region's most ridiculous (yet compelling) attractions. Creating a ski slope in the middle of the desert (complete with penguins for effect) was sheer madness. But, if Dubai had access to cheap energy then, why not?
We returned to the hotel and again, caught up on life with each other. Such times spent with friends is always precious.
The next morning we got up early and M accompanied me to Dubai Airport. There I was directed to do self-check in which ended up being confusing. Nothing worked as it should and I needed assistance. I said to the young man helping me, "I should have just done regular check-in". He replied, "but this is faster" (it wasn't). I felt old and out of touch - I hoped it was not a harbinger for the rest of the trip. It actually was.
I bid M farewell and went to my gate on foot crossing all of T3 - it was a very long walk, but I needed to get my steps in that day anyway.
The flight to Vienna was only half full (it was an A380, too).
Vienna
As per usual in Vienna, immigration was a breeze and the luggage came quickly. I walked toward the train station and noted that the airport ticket sales point was mobbed (it has been every time I have flown to Vienna), so I opted to use the automatic machines near the platforms. After buying my ticket, I saw that the train I planned to take was "cancelled". This did not just affect me, it affected everyone on the platform and, many people were in Vienna for the first time. Although an announcement was made that the train was cancelled, no follow up was made.
Then a very tired-looking train pulled into the station on the platform headed for Vienna. Slowly people got on (including me). I figured it was headed toward town anyway. Everyone was asking everyone else on the train what to do. Finally, after listening to a lot of conversations, I understood it was a local train that would NOT go to the Central Station. We all had to make a change to reach that destination. I followed progress on Google Maps and got off at what seemed like the correct station. I crossed the platform and got on the next arriving train, fingers crossed. Luckily, it all worked out...
I stayed at my usual hotel virtually across from the entrance of the train station. Vienna Hauptbahnhof is a massive transport node for Austria. Trains depart there for destinations all across Central Europe.
At check in one guy working there remembered me (that was very kind of him) because I had stayed so many times in the past. I got set up in the room - then it was time to head into the city. The weather was cool but partly sunny. I had one destination in mind - Mel's Diner. It had been my favorite place for the huge variety of beer on tap as well as some good food in the past. I was happy to find it was still open, but with a name change: Mel's Craft Beer (perhaps "Diner' confused customers).
First, however, I had to buy the ticket for Graz where I would travel the next day. It was surprisingly expensive, but then again, compared to Amtrak it was about the same price. Buying the ticket took all of five minutes.
Finally, I was on my way to the old city center, passing by Karlskirche, the State Opera House, and St Stephan's Cathedral. I felt a twinge of sadness at the opera house - how many times had I promised myself to see see a performance there "some day". Alas, that day still had to wait. The cathedral was filled with visitors and a mass was going on, so the interior was effectively blocked off - there were too many people to enjoy the experience.
I had my usual beer and meat/cheese platter - and savored every bite.
I returned to the hotel via the Hofburg and the museums nearby. Vienna, palaces... just wow. Those buildings were built to impress the masses - mission accomplished. I felt as though the uber-rich of the world have forgotten how to use their wealth to create magnificence. These days, the super rich are only obsessed with amassing more money.
I slept early and long. The following morning I woke up and took coffee at Coffee Fellows, a German cafe brand from Munich. Located in the station, it is a great place to sit and watch the world rushing to and from their trains.
With a few hours left (and leaden skies), I walked to the nearby Belvedere Castle and had a quick walkabout. I love its gardens and its bizarre bare chested female sphinxes in the garden (very weird). Prince Eugen wanted a residence that offered a view over the city like "Canaletto" (he was obsessed with Venice). I am not sure he achieved his aim, but the large landscaped garden in the middle of the city is impressive.
Rain was coming so I quickly returned to the room.
I rested a bit, then checked out and headed toward the station. There I ate a sandwich (it was a long train ride) while I waited for the platform to be announced. Soon it was time to board.
I was on the way to Graz, my first trip to that city.
Vienna to Graz
A two and a half hour journey on a new train with free WiFi. I honestly didn't know what to expect about the journey nor the destination.
The first hour or so revealed largely flat landscape, but then suddenly we started to climb into the mountains. We had to cross the last bit of the Alps to reach Graz on the Semmering Line.
The Semmering Railway, built over 41 km of high mountains between 1848 and 1854, is one of the greatest feats of civil engineering from this pioneering phase of railway building. The high standard of the tunnels, viaducts and other works has ensured the continuous use of the line up to the present day. It runs through a spectacular mountain landscape and there are many fine buildings designed for leisure activities along the way, built when the area was opened up due to the advent of the railway.
The views were spectacular, but as most people know, photos from a moving train carriage are difficult due to - reflections, trees, poles, blur. I decided rather than try to capture the perfect photo, I'd just enjoy the view. I had no idea the ride would be so beautiful - suddenly, the cost of the ticket felt worth it. We passed small towns with oversized grand hotels. Occasionally a modern condo was set amongst the hills (eww). Apparently, that line is the traditional escape for Viennese who want a quick mountain holiday.
Graz
I exited Graz Station and found "Keplerstrasse" where the hotel was located. I noted immediately that Graz was a "bicycle city" and lanes were clearly marked for both pedestrians and cyclists (and people minded the distinction). After a walk that was probably too long, I arrived at my "budget" hotel. My tolerance for "walking to a hotel" was diminishing.
Although I had stayed at budget hotels in the past, this one brought the concept to a new level. It felt incredibly "cheap" (but not dirty or worn out). I didn't even get a room key - just a code to punch in the door. Sheets were changed every third day. However, the room was adequate and the bed, comfy.
I got settled and left for a walkabout (and returned to the station to buy my onward ticket). That is when it hit me - Graz had a lot of foreigners (Arabs). And I mean, noticeably A LOT - like 50% of people on the street? Vienna is international and cosmopolitan, but Graz is "Austrian". I walked through a park and saw groups of young men smoking weed hanging out. I didn't feel "danger", but what I was witnessing did not portend well for Graz.
Honestly, I was unimpressed with what I was walking through - nothing beautiful at all. Was it a mistake to come to the city?
I made it to the train station to find that the next leg to Slovenia was on a "regional train" and was issued a ticket good for 24 hours on "any train", no need for a seat reservation. It was even cheaper than the ticket from Vienna. I wondered what the train would be like...
I walked back to the hotel with a stop at the River Mur and noticed the castle on the hill and the buildings of the old city across the river. It was stunning in the late day light even though clouds were building and rain was coming.
Franciscan Church
Castle Hill and Clock Tower
As I walked back to the hotel, I passed through a restaurant zone. About half of the places would be classified as "pop up" in the US and the variety of food on display was amazing. It was mostly al fresco dining though - it was cold! At least I wouldn't starve.
Night out in Graz
I took a rest; meanwhile, night was falling. In the mood for some good beer, I googled "craft beer" in Graz. I found a place, "Hops", in the old city, and it was only 15 minutes away on foot. It had stopped raining, so I set off into the twilight.
Graz City Hall
I passed by doors that opened into grand courtyards of lovely old buildings. The Innere Stadt (Old Town) was a different world. The river, it seemed, divided Graz into two very different cities. I soon came upon the ornate City Hall illuminated above a central square filled with kiosks selling coffee, wine, beer, and snacks. The scene was amazing - and, everyone there was Austrian. Truly Graz was a "Tale of Two Cities".
Finally, after passing through a narrow alley (like 3 feet across) to an inner "street", I found Hops tucked away in a corner. I was greeted by an affable Irish bartender, Fionn. The place had just opened (it served mostly a late-night crowd). I was made to feel welcome immediately - I loved the dark of the place. Hops had a basement vibe even though it was on the ground floor due to barrel vaulted ceilings of exposed brick. It was a true bar, so I had one pint and a few snacks - no real food was served. I felt tired - it had been a long day. I told Fionn I would certainly return the following day and started the walk back.
I passed by the beautifully lit up Mariahilferkirche and its square (near the hotel). All those small restaurants were filled with customers.
I had a very long sleep - uninterrupted for many hours.
Castle Hill
I awoke the next morning and had a quick coffee and pastry (outdoors!) at a nearby cafe. They had blankets on the tables for customers. Austrians sure were hard-core outdoor diners!
After getting ready and doing a bit of research (even these days the internet is filled with incorrect and confusing information), I decided to take the castle hill funicular to the top, explore, and then return to the old city on foot. A great plan except - the hill tram wasn't open. Even its own website had not changed over to "winter hours" (starting one hour later). Oh well, a short walk down the street were the stairs. I was happy I climbed them - they provided a more varied set of views over the city. The day hadn't even started and I already had my work out!
At the top of the hill, I saw a tower, the remains of the castle/fortress (not much had survived), and a stubby clock "tower" that stood out prominently over the town. I think Americans do not realize how much the Napoleonic Wars changed the face of Europe (physically) - probably as much as World War II. Many "historic" places were purposely destroyed.
By the clock tower I noticed a plaque donated by the "Donauschwaben" - the Germans who had migrated along the Danube River into Slovakia, Hungary, Serbia, Romania, and elsewhere. After World War II they were forcibly removed back to Germany which was largely in ruin. That was one of the mass migrations that has been overlooked by history - it affected millions. Austria took in the lion's share of them. My neighbors growing up had stayed in a refugee camp in Villach, Austria before emigrating.
I descended into the Innere Stadt - "the other Graz".
Old City
The weather was overcast, but I really didn't care. Walking around an old, European city center is always a good time. So well preserved is Graz' Innere Stadt that it has been proclaimed a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The streets range from broad avenues with streetcars to super narrow alleys that seemingly lead nowhere (and are dark and scary). I wandered...
Since 1569!!! What a bakery.
I was impressed by the number of people out and about. I thought about how "dead" American cities are becoming during the day. The place felt "alive".
Coming up on lunch time, I remembered that my favorite coffee shop in Chittagong, Segafredo has a branch in Graz. When I found it, I realized it was more of a coffee shop "wink wink"/ BAR. I took a lot of photos and sent them off to my friends in Chittagong who worked there. "I found a Segafredo that serves alcohol!" (I only wished they had served more food - they almost had no pastry selection, too - very odd!)
Since I couldn't even get a sandwich at Segafredo, I went to the cluster of restaurants near the hotel and sat down at an "ethnic" place. I had some lovely kebabs with salad. When I asked the waiter where everyone working there was from he proudly told me, Macedonia! So I guess I was eating Macedonian food (tasty but not shocking different from other similar food). I ordered some wine and it tasted bad. Since he told me the wine was from his home country, I didn't want to offend him. I sipped it slowly - ha ha ha.
I returned to the room for a brief rest. After years of not walking, I was getting tired a lot more easily.
Graz Landhaus
One thing left downtown that I had overlooked, Graz' most famous building after its city hall - the Landhaus. I set out to see it and then head back to Hops for more beer.
The Grazer Landhaus (Graz Country House) on Herrengasse was built between 1527 and 1531 as the first Renaissance building in the Styrian capital of Graz . Its main wing was constructed from 1557 according to the plans of the architect Domenico dell'Allio . The former seat of the Estates is one of the most important Renaissance buildings in Central Europe. Characteristic features include the ornate arched windows , the airy arcades, and the three-story arcaded courtyard. The Baroque country parlor is now the meeting hall of the Styrian State Parliament , and numerous events take place in the arcaded courtyard.
(Wikipedia)
The building was located on the main street of the old city and although its exterior was imposing, it belied the incredible interior courtyard of the place. Even more amazingly, the building was still in active use by the government!
I explored slowly and exited (on the other side) - what a huge building (especially back when it was built). I strolled downtown until it the bar opened and went back to Fionn by another very narrow alleyway. I had my last beers in Graz.
I turned in early. I had walked more than I did in the last three and a half years!
Leaving Graz
I woke up to leaden skies and cold temps. Although I had a half day, I decided to stay in the hotel. I had seen enough of Graz and felt satisfied. Gone were the days of wanting to squeeze every single moment out of a place.
I ate a nice lunch at a fusion restaurant which served SE Asian/South Asian food (I think?). The most important thing was that it tasted great.
Eventually, I made my way to the station where I waited for the train platform to be posted. The train arrived 30 minutes late. I figured out why later...
The carriage was from Slovenian Railways and was new. The only problem was that its WiFi caused my phone to message me with: "this connection is dangerous". That was OK - three hours without internet was good for me. The train departed on time and filled up at the last minute with school kids.
The border with Slovenia is very close to Graz and the train very nearly emptied at the last stop in Austria. Then the tracks shrunk down to a single set of rails to enter Slovenia. It was almost like both countries didn't want the rail crossing to exist.
Crossing Slovenia
At first, the scenery was much like that around Graz - low, forested hills and a lot of small farms. Then we hit Maribor, an old rust-belt city that has clearly seen better days. When I told Fionn at the bar in Graz I was going to Ljubljana he was excited for me, "you will love it, but don't bother with Maribor - nothing there". Truer words were never spoken.
As we headed west toward the capital, rolling fields opened up around us with the occasional high hill and remnants of a castle (or perhaps a church). The views were exceptionally idyllic. In the distanced, the hazy foothills of the Alps. The best was yet to come.
We finally entered some real "mountains" and started to follow tortuous river valleys that were filled with abandoned factories. It appeared so odd to me that with other flat land available, such places would be chosen for industry, but I assumed the fast flowing rivers provided both electricity and water. The scene was sad, actually - Slovenia needs a big clean up of some of its past.
We arrived at Zidani Most where two rivers meet (one is the Sava that flows down to Belgrade and the Danube). There the tracks split to Ljubljana and Zagreb, Croatia. The station was forlorn - a railyard next to a few defunct factories. The mountains and rapid-flowing rivers were gorgeous.
None of my friends (and few guide books) spoke of the rail journey between Graz and Ljubljana - why? It is spectacular!
We stopped for a long time outside of Ljubljana - we had been on time to that point. We slowly crept into the city. Then the reason was apparent - the station was in the midst of a complete overhaul (including the platforms). We exited the train to the back side of the station and luckily I remembered how to get to the hotel. Thank God for Google Maps! All trains in and out of the capital were delayed due to that construction.
Ljubljana
The hotel was located once again at the extreme limit of "walkable" from the train station - add to that the part of town where it was located was largely residential with few options for food. However, due to the Ljubljana Marathon (which explains why I had such a hard time securing a room), I was lucky to find what I did. In fact, the room was spacious and clean in a semi-hostel setting (I shared a toilet). There were a lot of facilities for people who are hard-core travelers (I am not) and the place received rave reviews. Other than location, I can see why. I liked it a lot.
I was very hungry after the long, delayed train ride and basically, I had only only one option, the oddly named "Das ist Valter" serving up Bosnian food from Sarajevo. I got a grilled meat platter and some salad with beer and quickly filled my stomach's void. I couldn't believe how much I got for how little money compared to Austria! Wow, I was loving Ljubljana already! The place was hopping and the service very friendly.
I took a very long detour on the way back to help my stomach digest all that meat.
I asked the hotel owner (a Chinese guy who immigrated to Slovenia with his family) about traveling to Lake Bled the next day. He also told me about the limited options for morning coffee. Even if I loved the room, the location left a lot to be desired.
I went to bed early. The next day I planned to see Lake Bled.
Lake Bled
The morning was cold and foggy. I found a nice coffee shop (15 minute walk) with a very sweet, young barista from Bosnia. She was so full of energy and conversation! I was just happy for a hot coffee.
I walked to the bus station (in front of the train station) and found a huge queue for tickets. I think everyone in town for the marathon (the following day) was headed out to Bled for a day trip. The wait was not long - I got the tickets and boarded the next bus. There was another huge queue because the bus also stopped at the airport. The storage under the bus filled up and people brought their massive bags on the bus. It was organized chaos. Some people didn't even make it on the bus...
The ride out of the city and into the countryside was unremarkable at first. Slowly the fog burned off and at the airport exit we could see the Julian Alps. Wow! Ljubljana Airport has a beautiful setting. I didn't mind the stop at all.
We exited the highway later for Bled and got into a traffic jam. Everyone it seemed was headed for its famous lake. The weather was sparkling, the temperature warm, and the fall leaves at their peak (and the marathon was in the city). The bus crept into Bled and after getting off, I saw that little Lake Bled was mobbed. I was disappointed, but being crowded in Slovenia is not like Asia. It was packed, but easy to get away from people, too.
I walked around the lake and found the path up to the castle. It was steep but "easy". From there, beautiful views of the mountain lake with its famous "church on an island" could be taken in (with far fewer people). I skipped the castle interior and focused on the nice forest hike (with scenic lookouts) back down to the lake.
At the far end of the lake, the views were even more spectacular. I did not climb to the top of the most famous viewpoint because I was already tired. I had seen so many good views of the lake already - I was content. I ate a nice lunch of hearty goulash with some great Slovenian sparkling wine - all overlooking the lake. I rested my very weary legs, too.
After reaching town and the bus station, I found another mass of people. Yet again, the bus could not accommodate everyone and I was lucky to board. We finally made it back to Ljubljana (I admit to sleeping on the bus). I had crossed a huge item off my travel bucket list!
The bus station was near a craft brewery I wanted to try. Actually, I would have preferred to go the following day (Sunday), but many places in Slovenia are closed on Sundays. If I wanted to go - it had to be then and there. The bartender was a super friendly guy who explained a lot about the history of beer production in Slovenia to me. The beer was excellent.
I honestly wished I could have stayed on, but I knew if I drank more, I might not make it back to the hotel (due to tiredness, not drunkenness). At least I tasted an original beer!
I returned to the hotel and relaxed - it was busy, too. I believe every single room in Ljubljana was filled that night.
Old City
I woke to a crisp, cold Fall morning. After coffee with the enthusiastic Bosnian barista at the nearby coffee shop, I set forth. I was told that Sunday would be very quiet in the old city - except, of course, the Ljubljana Marathon was on! I made sure to arrive long after it started.
Most European historic centers used to be walled and there is usually a very dramatic demarcation between "old and new" (also incredibly strict laws prevent any changes to historic buildings). Ljubljana's old town is long and narrow on two sides of the Ljubljanica River. Rather than a starting suddenly, the city's old town fades in gradually. I have to admit to some disappointment at first, but that soon vanished.
A traveler knows when they are in Ljubljana's old town for sure at the Dragon Bridge. It is not particularly old, but it is one of the most famous photo ops in the city.
From the bridge, the castle can be seen with its funicular railway (it is new and I can't help but think they copied Graz). On the other side of the river is the Central Market which (on weekdays) houses a huge open-air market along with restaurants. That day, it was empty but also was close to the starting point for the marathon. In fact, due to the fact that the marathon's track had to be kept open for runners, it was barricaded - with only a few places open to cross over. Needless to say, walking around became a challenge.
Walking frustrations aside, Ljubljana's long, old streets punctuated by small squares were lovely.
Prešernov trg (the official center of the city)
I reached the end of the old town and found the path to the castle. Thankfully, the castle is partly free to enter and partly ticket-based (for interior exhibits). The courtyard has a restaurant (it was packed) and the ramparts give excellent views over the city. The horizon was cloudy, but in better weather the Alps are apparently visible. The castle is not that amazing compared to others in Europe, but it is user-friendly, which I appreciated.
I was getting hungry, so I took the funicular down to the Central Market (otherwise, it was a very long walk). I found a wine shop that I had noticed earlier with a sign board showing a spiral captioned "you will drink wine". I applauded their sense of humor so I entered. The interior, the food (local cheeses), and the wine were excellent. Add Slovenia to my wine list, please!
Fully relaxed and happy, I decided to walk to the train station and buy my onward ticket. I would return to old town for aperitivo.
Luckily, there was no queue at the station and I easily purchased my onward ticket to Italy. Once again, due to train work, I would have to change to a bus for the last 30 minutes of the journey. Sigh....
After some relaxing back in the hotel room, I ventured out again on a different path and found another wine shop. Twice in one day? Hell, yes. I was on vacation. I went for charcuterie with a local variety of Pinot Grigio.
I strolled along the river as the sun was setting. It was cold, but the riverside cafes were filled with diners. Europeans in general have a much higher tolerance for outdoor dining than Americans. I was happy to see so many people milling around and reflected once again on how dead American cities had become post-COVID.
I will also note that Ljubljana has completely embraced food delivery. The city is a awash in scooter drivers picking up and delivering meals. I hoped their outdoor food culture would not be impacted.
I returned to the room - it was cold, and I was still in "temperature shock" after living in the tropics for three and a half years. I had seen Slovenia - a long time goal.
The next day I would be going to Italy.
Ljubljana to Trieste
Although I liked my hotel in Ljubljana (except the shared toilet), it had a check out policy of 10am. After morning coffee (where my favorite barista was not on duty), I got everything ready and exited into the morning cold. Foul weather was moving in. Traveling is a lot like homelessness (except with more money).
I located a local coffee roaster, enjoyed a second breakfast, and relaxed inside the very busy cafe. The coffee was excellent (I knew I was getting close to Italy). After warming up, I continued to the city's largest park, Tivoli, nearby. The park had on its Fall colors and was lovely. It surrounds a small hill in town (forested) and holds a number of meadows and playing fields as well as an elegant old house (palace, actually - quite small). The residents are lucky to have such a beautiful and well-cared for park.
It was cold...
I returned to the city center to find lunch and ended up at a tourist place that had "local food". If by local they meant "Central European", then, yes, that is what they served. They also brewed their own beer. I will not say the food was bad - it was OK (but the beer was not that great) - I expected a little bit more. After ingesting a local sausage, potatoes, and sauerkraut, I felt full enough for the long train ride coming up.
Back to the hotel, I collected my bags and headed to the station with NO place to wait for the train. I sat outside - at least there was free internet (and free air-conditioning - still cold). Thirty minutes before departure the train (very new) pulled into the station. A lot of people got on early. We were waiting for the delayed connecting train from Vienna. It arrived (very late) with just a five minute window to transfer. At least we left on time.
The winding route toward Italy was scenic, but the hills were lower than the ride to Ljubljana from the east. Not only was it cloudy, but the rail line was lined with trees for the most part making taking photos mostly impossible. I still recommend the ride - even if the highway is faster, the train provides glimpses into small towns along the way.
Not long before the last stop a screeching alarm went off. Fire! All I could think was "a power bank?" As it turns out, it went off by itself. We had to sit there with it blaring about about 15 minutes (a very long time). Finally, they shut it down and we continued. I didn't mind the delay, just the noise.
We arrived in Sežana, the last town in Slovenia. Apparently only six months earlier the train continued to Trieste (according to Georgetown friend and world-traveler, DB). The Slovenian Railways said it was due to track work in Italy. A large number of us headed for the nice bus in front of a tiny station. Boarding was completed in less than 10 minutes (a lot people had bags - and it was raining).
The bus entered Italy in less than five minutes!
The bus passed through the tiny town of Villa Opicina which is a bilingual Italo-Slovene place. It looked like a pleasant place to visit with more time in Trieste (which I didn't have) - maybe it is like Bolzano for this part of Italy (half Italian, half Slavic - rather than German).
Then the bus turned a corner and there was a collective gasp - very far below us lay Trieste. Wow! It almost reminded me of descending the escarpment in Abha, Saudi Arabia. Nothing in Sežana or Villa Opicina indicated their altitude. The views down to the port city (it is huge) were breathtaking even in the cloudy gloom. In the harbor, a massive cruise ship - one of Royal Caribbean's largest - dwarfed the pier. The ship even looked big from a distance. That view entering Trieste must be one of the greatest city entries in all of Europe. I wished we could have stopped the bus to enjoy it.
The bus driver, however, was on a schedule and as per most Italian drivers was trying to make it to our destination as quickly as possible (even on a rain-slick mountain road with a dizzying drop off). I was happy when we reached the city.
The next hotel was just a short walk from the bus/train station. I checked into a grand old hotel on a square - wow. It was everything the last hotel was not (and I had my own bathroom). Breakfast was even included! After getting settled, I had to return to the train station to buy my onward ticket (to France). That was fast and easy (and expensive).
I ordered a wonderful "Trieste Club Sandwich" at a restaurant around the corner from the hotel. It was so "fusion" I just had to try it - and, of course, it was delicious. Why? Italians know how to make sandwiches. Actually vegetarian, the sandwich consisted of grilled eggplant and zucchini with roasted red peppers and lovely melted cheese on typical American style white bread. It was amazing.... (with a glass of white wine). I forgot how much I missed food in Italy.
I went out for a walk (the rain had stopped) and saw Trieste's own, stubby Grand Canal.
It was built between 1754 and 1756 by the Venetian Matteo Pirona, further digging the main collector of the salt pans, when these were buried to allow the urban development of the city outside its walls. It was built so that boats could come directly to the city center to unload their goods. In its initial conformation, the canal was longer than it is today, reaching as far as the church of Sant'Antonio. The terminal part of the canal was buried in 1934, with rubble resulting from the demolition of the old city, thus obtaining the current Piazza Sant'Antonio. In the burial it is said that a small torpedo boat, moored there in failure and abandoned since the end of the war, was also buried, although from the photographs of the time, depicting the burial works, no hull can be seen.
(Wikipedia)
The canal these days it a lovely leftover from a bygone era. It is lined with restaurants and ends at a nice square holding a Serbian Orthodox Church and a very atypical neoclassical church, San' Antonio. In spite of the chill and damp weather, people were still dining outside (under umbrellas). Die hard al fresco, but why?
I returned to the hotel and crashed. It had been a long travel day. One big problem loomed, the next day's weather forecast was rain - all day.
Trieste
For the first time on the trip, I was facing serious rain. In fact, it rained literally all day on my only day to walk around Trieste. I was a trooper and faced it. In the morning, when the rain died down - I ventured out. Unfortunately, the rain came back in waves...
First stop was the Roman Amphitheatre. How could Trieste be a proper Italian city without one? It is right in the center of the city and in the 1920's and 30's, more recent homes were remove to excavate the site properly.
A lot of Trieste is built into the hills - flat land is actually scarce. I passed by an imposing church on a hill.
Church of Santa Maria Maggiore
I returned to the waterfront and its lovely promenade. In good weather, it must be great to stroll and look out over the sea and the hills above the city. For me, it was just damp and rainy.
Monumento per la Liberazione
Trieste's single most important monument and square is the famous Piazza Unità d'Italia, the Unity of Italy Square. It is the iconic landmark of Trieste and on my visit had a copy of the submersible, "Trieste" which first explored the Mariana Trench, on display. The square is huge in a city that is starved for flat space in which to build. That adds to how impressive the square feels.
Piazza Unità d'Italia
I continued into "Cavana", the old section of the city with narrow streets and beautiful piazzas. Essentially, it is the "old" city and is filled with many restaurants and cafes. All the usual outdoor dining was closed due to the weather.
Palazzo Accademia di Commercio e Nautica, Piazza Hortis
I came back to the room and dried off. In the next rain pause, I went out for pizza to an American-style place (conceptually) that served pizza by the slice. Many places in Italy only serve the whole pie. I ate a delicious calzone and felt satisfied that I was finally eating "real Italian food".
The rain had slacked off and I explored the train station to have a look at the platforms and how to access them (Trieste Station was under renovation). My train the next day was in the morning and I wanted to know ahead of time what to expect.
Upon exiting, the rain was light and I made another try to explore downtown. It wasn't far away.
I crossed the Grand Canal once again closer to the sea - it truly was scenic.
Near the stock market one street gave a lovely view into the hills surrounding the city. Similar to Genoa, much of Trieste climbs the surrounding hills.
Heading back to the room, I discovered the Seventh of September Street which is a tree-lined pedestrian way lined with restaurants. In good weather, it must be one of the best places to eat in the city. At the base of the street stands this amazing fountain.
Fontana del Giano Bifronte
The rain intensified and I waited on that restaurant street under a large umbrella for a long time. When it lessened, I struck out toward my next destination, the Court of Trieste (which I could see from the hotel room). I passed a gelato shop and ducked in. I had not yet had an ice cream since I arrived - scandalous! That was fortuitous - right after, it poured.
The rain continued for some time. I felt happy to be dry (relatively), but also frustrated that I wasn't catching any break with the weather. It literally rained all day.
When it let up - I went out to try to see the famous courthouse and it promptly started to rain heavily once more. I could not get a decent photo of the building and beat a hasty retreat to the hotel. I got wet (but not soaked). I needed to relax (and my feet were wet - yuck)
After a couple of hours, it was aperitivo time and the man on duty at reception recommended Harry's Bar across the piazza from the hotel. It was a good recommendation for a typical Italian cafe/bar. I drank some Pinot Grigio and ate snacks. I joked with the server about being served "cheese puffs" - such unhealthy American food. She laughed a lot.
Luckily, the rain wasn't bad when I was ready to leave. I quickly returned to the hotel - I wanted to see more of the city at night, but I was too damp already. I needed to be as dry as possible for the journey the next morning.
I called it an early evening - the next day after breakfast I was taking two long train rides that would land me in France.
Trieste to Lyon
I thought the ticket to Lyon was expensive, but then again I was traveling on two high-speed rail segments across the whole of Northern Italy and into France. In sum, it was not a bad deal, but unfortunately - the weather remained mostly bad and the views from the window were not good throughout.
As we left Trieste the train actually hugs the coastline - it was probably the best part of the trip.
The train crossed Italy's amazing Po Valley northern plain. For a country I associate with mountains, it is easy to forget that it has a huge flat portion (which grows most of the food and holds most of the industry). At the center of it all lies Milan.
We flashed by Verona and Peschiera del Garda and I fondly remembered my trips there. The Alps should have been visible, but the weather was too overcast. Most of the scenery was either industrial or agricultural - not much to see.
We arrived in Mussolini's lasting gift to Italy, Milano Centrale - a station I love (for its architecture) and hate (for its crowds and hassle). I had almost two hours transit there, so I grabbed a bite (not many choices on the platform side) and then people watched. The station WiFi was marked by my phone as "dangerous" (ha!) I had to admit that over the years of traveling there, things had improved.
With a flood of bad memories from New York Penn Station, I found myself in a crowd staring at the departure board with only minutes left (destination Paris) and waiting for the platform to be posted. It appeared only five minutes before and there was a mad dash to the train. I did not appreciate the "developing world" style boarding, yet the train actually left almost on time (a delay due to the boarding process). Yes, some things about Italy never seem to change.
My seat was occupied by a young French guy who wanted to sit with his family. I gladly changed - why make someone unhappy? Then I discovered I was seated with two "babushka"-types who had to have been some of the worst travel companions ever. They talked loudly, watched their phones on high volume, ate slovenly (and they were very properly dressed), and constantly requested my help to do things because the whole "train experience" seemed to baffle them. I am pretty sure they were from Iran based on their phone text script and the sound of their language. At one point I just wanted to shout, "Can you just sit there for five minutes and be silent and not move?" Even the young French girl across from me rolled her eyes at them - so it was not Matt having an "old man moment" himself. How do such people survive in this world?
Poor traveling companions aside, after Torino (for which I wished I had budgeted time), the train soon entered the Alps. The Italians had done a lot of track realignment and tunnel building for high speed rail. That meant that much of the journey was in the dark. Also, the poor weather mostly obscured the views - I was disappointed, but since I had a great crossing in Austria, I decided not to feel greedy. It was very smooth going - like Japan.
We entered one last long tunnel and popped out into France where everything slowed down. The French had done very little on their side to accommodate the new fast trains (perhaps it is still a project yet to be completed). Our progress was SLOW and the sun had set so it was dark. I only had my Iranian companions to annoy me on what I thought was going to be a more spectacular journey. It felt like the train crept to Lyon.
We arrived 10 minutes late into the MASSIVE and modern Lyon-Part Dieu station. Luckily, my hotel was right out the door. I checked in and crashed.
It had been a long day. I was back in France after nearly a decade.
Lyon
Walking across town
The old city was far enough for me to consider public transportation, but in the end, I walked. The best way to know a city is on foot, so I set off down the completely unremarkable Rue Paul Bert which took me almost halfway there. As I walked away from the modern La Part Dieu section of town (Lyon's new business center based around the TGV station), I disappointingly found the city completely bland. Finally, at the end of the street where it merged with the lovely tree-lined Cours Gambetta, Lyon started to look a little more "French".
I turned onto that street and soon had a first view of the white basilica on Fourvière hill above the old city. Wow! That immediately changed my image of Lyon. I crossed the bridge onto the long peninsula created where the Saône and Rhône Rivers meet (which holds the Lyon's City Center). I took in the beautiful views on both sides. It was incredibly scenic.
Further on, the massive Place Bellecour holds an equestrian statue of Louis XIV. He would have approved. There I stopped at the tourist office and asked for their recommendations for a one-day tour of the city. A nice guide informed me that seeing the Old City and the City Center would be quite a lot in one day (and she was right!). I left to cross the next bridge and enter the original settlement of the city (by the Romans, of course).
Crossing the Saône the views of the hill overlooking the narrow strip of land that holds Vieux Lyon were glorious. I was excited to explore (thankfully, it was a brilliantly clear, Fall day).
Old City/Fourvière
At first I explored the Cathedral (it was right there after the bridge). The square in front was empty in the morning and the surrounding restaurants were setting up for lunch.
Basilica of Notre Dame on the hill and Cathedral of St John the Baptist below
St. John the Baptist
I figured I would take the funicular to the top of the hill rather than walk (saving time and energy). I entered to find a sign saying it was under maintenance. Why didn't the Tourist Office inform me? I set off to to find the path to the top. It made for a good work out and provided some nice views over the city. The horizon was cloudy - I wondered if the Alps were visible on a clear day (apparently, yes).
First stop, the Roman Amphitheatre (it required a ticket and it was closed - too early) - I had to settle for the nearby view.
An exceptional site, the theater area includes the large theater and the odeon, listed as Historical Monuments in 1905. These two buildings, located side by side, formed a unique set in the Roman world. Transformed into quarries in late Antiquity, they had almost disappeared from the landscape. They were updated and partially rebuilt during the first half of the twentieth century.
...
...known as the "large theater", to differentiate it from the odeon, the building is set into the slope of the hill. It is the oldest theater in Roman Gaul and is also one of the largest (108 meters in diameter), along with the theaters of Vienne and Autun. Originally, there were only two levels of tiered seats for about 5,000 spectators. Later, it was modified: the stage was rebuilt, and a third level of seats was added, enlarging capacity to 10,000 spectators. Plays were presented there, most often comedies, accompanied by dances.
Théâtre Gallo Romain
The main attraction was, of course, the dazzling white La Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière. It is the symbol of the city and visible from many neighborhoods.
The low pressure system that brought all the rain to Trieste was being pushed away by some very strong winds (the remains of an Atlantic hurricane). To say the top of the hill was windy was an understatement. I had to take off my hat so it wouldn't blow away.
The views across the city were splendid - La Part Dieu and my hotel looked so nearby (and small). The basilica itself was a brilliant white in the sun.
Basilica
La Part Dieu (my hotel area)
I passed on entering the church - time was limited. I wanted to walk down a different path to the old city, but it was also closed for maintenance! Then I saw people going down into the funicular station (right in front of the basilica). Huh? As it turns out, there are TWO funicular lines and only one was closed. I gladly paid two euros to get quickly back down to the old city below.
Funicular (part of public transport)
Down in the Old City I wandered and read the signboards for the daily lunch specials. There were so many choices! I decided to go with a slightly expensive place because the day before I had eaten very little. I landed at a lovely restaurant with a wonderful "mistress of the house" who did a great job of making everyone feel at home. The south of France is so friendly.
She navigated my menu choice (I almost ordered tripe!) and when it came time for wine, I wanted a half-carafe. She showed me different bottle sizes and I picked the one I thought was "half". I was actually two-thirds. Yikes! That was OK though - I wasn't in a rush. It was a red Côtes du Rhône, one of my usual French "go to" wines anyway.
The restaurant experience was amazing. I enjoyed watching the lunch rush come and go as much as the meal. I ended up getting a traditional Lyonnaise sausage with steamed potatoes and vegetables in a brown sauce. Truth be told - the Lyonnais need to travel east to learn to make sausage (ha!). It tasted very bland, but I still enjoyed it. I took a full hour to eat lunch (unheard of when I travel) and felt a little tipsy afterward.
The meal completed, I wanted to explore the city center, so I walked to a bridge that would take me past the main monuments. On the way, I found a lovely statue in front of the Palais de Justice. It is of a man carrying himself - very thought provoking.
Inaugurated in 2013 on the esplanade which links the Quai Romain-Rolland to the footbridge of the Palais-de-Justice, The Weight of Oneself , or Le Poids de soi , is the work of two Scandinavian artists, Michael Elmgreen and Ingar Dragset. For this commission, the duo chose to depict a man holding another, inanimate man in his arms. One might wonder if this is a representation of a heroic act, if the two protagonists knew each other... But as we get closer, we can see that their faces seem to have the same features. Are they, then, one and the same person? While each person is free to interpret them for themselves, their location suggests a metaphor for individual responsibility toward oneself, but also toward others and society. The man then carries his double in his arms, both the savior of his existence and his own burden.
Les Pods de Soi (The Weight of Oneself) and the Palais de Justice footbridge
Center City
Crossing the Saône, the neighborhood of Les Chartreux looked perfect against the clear Fall sky.
Les Chartreux
I came upon the grand Place des Terreaux which holds the city hall. Lyon City Hall might be the best I have seen in Europe... seriously. Not only is it beautiful, but it has just enough gilt to make it dazzle in the sun. The building literally took my breath away. The whole experience reminded me how much of Europe wanted to copy France when it was at its peak - and for good reason.
In the middle of the square stands a huge fountain that is equally amazing - it is simply called the Fountaine Bartholdi (from the same guy who brought us the Statue of Liberty). Again - just wow. In fact, one of the most stunning views was from the courtyard of the Museum of Fine Arts.
Place des Terreaux (City Hall)
Bartholdi Fountain from the Art Museum
Continued wandering took me past a lovely gothic church, the stock exchange, and the opera house. Lyon continued to impress me. Only the opera house looked a little odd because of a strangely-shaped modern, vaulted roof addition. It wasn't horrible, but I wondered what the original looked like.
Stock Exchange
Finally, I returned to the hotel passing the original La Part Dieu Railway Station - La Gare des Brotteaux. Now filled with restaurants, it is only semi-open to the public. I was disappointed not to find an easy way to peek inside.
I then took a long needed rest. Once again it was a long walk.
Westfield Mall
Westfield La Part-Dieu: Europe’s biggest urban shopping centre and the go-to destination in the Rhône-Alpes region. Since it opened in 1975, it has been continuously developed, improved, and expanded with a series of successful modifications.
I noted the Westfield Mall across from the train station in the morning and thought I would have a look around in the early evening. The sky had again clouded over anyway and I didn't feel like getting rained on. I had enjoyed a gloriously sunny day. I did not want to tempt fate.
The place was mobbed. For anyone who thinks "mall culture" is dead, they need to visit Westfield Lyon. But then again, that is the ONLY mall for literally hundreds of kilometers around. It is unique, not "one of many".
In the mall, as I walked around, I looked at the face of Lyon. I realized that the city was extreme diverse. "French people" (as in Gallic people) were less than 50%. I thought, "Is this the future of France?" With a plummeting birth rate, France (like the US) needs immigration to survive. Vienna had appeared "international" in its historic center because so many humanitarian organizations are headquartered there. Graz has many immigrants, but they all are concentrated in one part of the city. Lyon looked to be fully integrated - all kinds of people were everywhere in the city. A complete mixture of humanity.
Was this not only France's future, but also Europe's?
I came back to the hotel to relax. Another train ride at noon the following day - Nîmes awaited.
Lyon to Nîmes
The train to Lyon wasn't until noon, so there was time for a final walkabout in Lyon. The weather was not cooperative at all. Although I almost didn't need my jacket the day before, with that morning's leaden skies, it felt "cold". A reasonable walk from the station is the city's premier park, Parc de la Tête d'Or. The grounds are beautifully landscaped in an English style (it is in France, after all, which excels in garden design). The place is huge, built on former wetlands adjacent to the Rhône River. The name, "Golden Head" refers to a supposed buried treasure somewhere in the area from centuries before.
The changing leaves in the park were nice, but in the cold, damp air I was interested in getting my daily steps in more than anything else. Nonetheless, the Lyonnais are fortunate to have such a great place to refresh themselves near the city center.
I returned to find the main station in chaos (of course it would be when I needed to depart from it). Due to a stalled train in the station, some local trains were cancelled and most others, operating with a delay. The crowd was massive - I hoped it would improve by the time I returned a few hours later. Meanwhile, I thought I'd pick up a sandwich for the road. Unfortunately, the queues to buy food were enormous and the selections expensive and nearly cleaned out. I would just have a late lunch in Nîmes.
By the time I returned to the station, the crowds had thinned (a bit), but the issue remained. The platform was posted for the train, which luckily originated in Lyon. After it pulled in, I found my seat and settled in - I was a little excited, too. It was my first official TGV ride. We left about 10 minutes late and the train literally crawled out of Lyon (where was the "grande vitesse"?). Only later when we reached the dedicated high speed rails did the train increase to full speed (wow). Unlike the AVE of Spain, the Shinkansen of Japan, or the Freccarossia of Italy - there were no screens showing progress and speed. I felt a little disappointed.
Most of the scenery along the way was flat and agricultural, but as we headed south, some large mountain outcrops appeared that were striking with sheer cliffs rising from the plains. I had no idea France held such landscapes - they were not foothills of the Alps, but their own geological features - yet more things I never heard of.
The best part of the ride (said brutally ironically) was that one of my travelling mates in a seating configuration of four passengers at "table", was a woman who was "conducted" to her seat by an SNCF employee, carrying a variety of purses and bags. She was a repeat of the Iranian women of the trip from Italy - why me? Not only was she oblivious to how much inconvenience she caused everyone near her with all her bags (and her refusal to place even one in a luggage rack), but she actually requested one man to change his seat so she would feel more comfortable. Like the two women on the train a few days earlier, I wondered how she survived life in such a state of cluelessness. She talked nonstop (except for a few moments when she went to the dining car).
So THAT was my first TGV ride (which was also expensive).
The train zoomed out from under the clouds covering Lyon and we arrived to a sunny (and much warmer) Nîmes.
Nîmes
Lunch
While valiantly ignoring the nonstop chat of the woman across from me, I made use of the free (and good) WiFi onboard to check restaurants near the hotel. One received outstanding reviews and it was literally a few steps out the hotel door. After I check in at a hotel across from the station, I immediately left to eat.
I found the place at the tale end of lunch. No English was spoken - no problem. The biggest frustration was trying to read the menu which was exactly like lipstick on a mirror from a horror movie. I had a hard time making it out. Finally, I made my choice and the incredibly kind bartender/waiter came to take my order. My top two choices were sold out (it was just after the lunch rush), so I ended up getting couscous - their specialty.
The food came out speedily and the pasta, soup, and meat were all served separately (it made sense since there were a variety of couscous on the menu, including vegetarian). I loaded my plate and dug in. I will not say it was bad - it wasn't. I was just incredibly bland. Suddenly, all those reviews seemed "fake" (likely done by friends). No matter, though - I was hungry.
Meanwhile, it turned out to be a local place and I liked watching the interaction between everyone there who seemed to know each other. Perhaps being a regular improved the taste? I paid (too much - it was supposed to be cheap) and went back to the room.
The weather was sunny and warm. I could have worn shorts! (I didn't). Nîmes beckoned.
The old city
Nîmes is one of those European cities that is ancient, old, and classic all at once, yet incredibly compact. I exited the front of the train station to the lovely Avenue Feuchères - a long, tree-lined pedestrian street flanked by 19th century buildings. It was purposely created to take travelers from the then new train station into the center of the city and its Roman ruins.
Avenue Feuchères
The avenue leads to the magnificent Fountaine Pradier with the scupture of a woman who represents the classical history of the city. Upon reaching the fountain, a visitor first lays eyes on the city's crown jewel, the Roman Arena.
After walking around the arena, I entered the rabbit warren of narrow streets with pocket squares - the hallmark of any medieval European city. I had seen Roman Nîmes, it was time to see the version of the city from 1500 years later. The old city is still occupied and the ground floors of the buildings are awash in bars, cafes, and restaurants. In my mind I whispered, "this is what I came to see in Europe". It felt very much like Spain or Italy.
Place du Marché
I recalled Nîmes' other "main attraction", the Roman La Maison Carrée (lit. the "square house" because by the Middle Ages making something so precisely square was considered an achievement). In my mind, it was something of an "also ran". I popped out of a small alley into a large square to see a beautifully preserved Roman temple.
The Maison Carrée is probably the best-preserved Roman temple in the world. Built in the early years of the 1st century, it was dedicated to the cult of the imperial family. Inspired by the temples of Apollo and Mars Ultor in Rome, the Maison Carrée impresses by the harmony of its proportions and the majesty that emanates from this exceptional monument. In Roman times, it was located to the south of the forum, a vast public space that formed the heart of the city.
I just walked around it - slackjawed.
I returned to the hotel via the cathedral (very small and not noteworthy) and the city hall (very historic). My mind was still swimming from everything else I saw in the city.
Aperitivo
Upon discovering that I had missed the station ticket office's opening hours (only until 5pm - how was that possible?), I returned to the city center to see the monuments lit up at night.
I found a cafe on the huge square around the old temple - it was filled with locals, not tourists. I can't even imagine having a complete Roman temple as something "normal" in my hometown. With a couple of glasses of red and some "frites", I gazed at history and felt like it was probably one of the best locations for aperitivo - ever.
The walk back took me by the arena which was also illuminated - again, wow.
Little Nîmes exceeded all my expectations, and most significantly - it was the place I was going to spend the most time on the whole journey!
Avignon
Sur le pont d'Avignon
l'on y danse, l'on y danse.
Sur le pont d'Avignon
l'on y danse tous en rond.
15th century traditional song
Avignon in my mind was two things: a famous bridge and the city to which the French tried to "hijack" the papacy. It was only a 30-minute ride from Nîmes, so it made for a logical day trip. As per my train luck, the train was delayed.
The station is located on the edge of the old city. My first surprise was realizing that Avignon is a walled city with its walls mostly intact (except where modern streets poke through)
The wall was opened in the 19th century to create the "modern" boulevard, Cours Jean Jaurès into the city center directly from the station. That made it "easy" to reach the Place d'Horloge, the main square. The square is filled with cafes and includes the city hall and opera house. It was also filled with people.
Hôtel de Ville
However, seeing a lovely old square in an old French city is not that noteworthy. Just around the corner from the square was another massive square with a palace/cathedral complex perched on a great stone outcrop - the Palace of the Popes. I honestly felt overwhelmed. Little Avignon held a massive fortress/palace!
The Avignon Papacy was the period from 1309 to 1376 during which seven successive popes resided in Avignon (at the time within the Kingdom of Arles, part of the Holy Roman Empire, now part of France) rather than in Rome. The situation arose from the conflict between the papacy and the French crown, culminating in the death of Pope Boniface VIII after his arrest and maltreatment by agents of Philip IV of France. Following the subsequent death of Pope Benedict XI, Philip pressured a deadlocked conclave to elect the Archbishop of Bordeaux as pope Clement V in 1305. Clement refused to move to Rome, and in 1309 he moved his court to the papal enclave at Avignon, where it remained for the next 67 years. This absence from Rome is sometimes referred to as the "Babylonian captivity" of the Papacy.
(Wikipedia)
It is worth noting that the French tried once again to bring the Pope back to Avignon after the papacy returned to Rome which led to "competing popes" for several decades. (I did learn all of that at university - I think).
Nonetheless, the massive scale of the palace is simply jaw-dropping. Avignon had completely blown me away.
Of course, the real reason people visit Avignon is because of the song...
There is a bridge (now only half remains) across the River Rhône where traditional dances (under the bridge not on it) have been held since the 15th century. It is THE tourist attraction of Avignon and there isn't much to see other than the river and a nice view back over the rock that holds the palace.
I felt satisfied - my expectations were met. Like Pisa where people did selfies holding up the tower, in Avignon visitors took videos dancing on the bridge. I think a compilation of those dances would make for great viewing. For some reason those selfie-videos were not as ridiculous to me as the photos tourists were taking in Pisa.
I walked down under the bridge to get the view from the water's edge (not easy - it is mostly grown up and very swampy). The river was running high after a lot of rain.
Two main sights of Avignon - check. It was time for lunch
After a fabulous (and expensive) lunch in a place that was "out of the way", it was time to wander.
I returned to the great square in front of the palace (I didn't have time to enter - I was already in sensory overload - I could not have processed the interior). The cathedral next to the palace was open and I climbed the stairs to have a look and take in the views over the large square below.
The cathedral was old and beautiful, but far less ornate than I expected it might be.
After leaving the Papal Square I wandered the maze of old city streets (with my phone as a guide) until I reached the famous Rue de Teinturiers.
The river Sorgue was diverted in the Middle Ages to form several canals. One of them, the Canal de Vaucluse, runs today along the rue des Teinturiers before joining the Rhône river by Avignon's walled city. The initial purpose was for drainage. But, when textile makers set up shop in Avignon, they soon realised the benefits of a ready water supply and made a beeline for this area. Indeed, the rue des Teinturiers translates roughly as "Dyers' Street". In the 15th century, wool and silk were manufactured here. Later, in the 17th and 18th centuries, colourful, typically provençal cotton textiles were produced intensively in Avignon after they had been banned elsewhere in France. Inspired by designs from India, they were known as les indiennes.
(Wikipedia)
Several working water wheels still churn along the tree-lined street. The place was pleasant to be sure and a worthy detour.
After the "dyer's street" I wandered aimlessly seeing historic building after historic building. Avignon needs several days at least with a guide just to cover all the history. I believe it is one of the most "history-packed" small cities I have visited in Europe.
With tired feet (I was not even sure how many kilometers I had walked), I boarded the on-time train to Nîmes (which also arrived on time - rare on this trip).
After a short rest at the hotel, I ventured out into the early evening to look for a place to have a glass of red overlooking the arena. I was successful. Maybe not quite as good as the location next to the temple, I was not complaining. Nîmes has no shortage of good backdrops for restaurants and bars!
I called it a night and slept early (even getting an extra hour because Europe was changing its clocks). I had another big day ahead of me the next day.
Carcassonne
Perhaps a decade ago photos of the citadel of Carcassonne started to appear on the internet. I was impressed. Although I didn't feel like I knew all of the places to visit in France, it was surprising that something so spectacular flew under my radar for so long. I relegated it to "bucket list" and "someday". Nîmes was as close as I was going to get to the place (two hours by train), and there were frequent connections with trains between Marseille and Bordeaux. I took the plunge and bought the ticket (shockingly expensive and not even a "fast" train).
I was going to Carcassonne - I tried to manage expectations.
On a very bizarre weather day, I exited the station. Since Fall is often "all seasons at once", I should not have been surprised. When the wind died down and the sun was out, it felt even a little "hot" walking. When the sky clouded over (totally) and the wind blew, the cold cut through me. The strange thing was the sky would be completely dark and 30 minutes later, it was cheery blue. And then - back to dark!
When I exited the station, I immediately crossed a bridge with a canal lock beneath it. The "Midi Canal" passes through Carcassonne connecting Sète on the Mediterranean and Bordeaux on the Atlantic. What a feat of engineering! There were short tours by boat on the canal, but I was citadel-bound.
The Canal du Midi is a 240 km (150 mi) long canal in Southern France (le Midi). Originally named the Canal Royal en Languedoc and renamed by French revolutionaries to Canal du Midi in 1789, the canal is considered one of the greatest construction works of the 17th century.
(Wikipedia)
I followed a narrow main street filled with shops (closed, it was Sunday morning) to the main square of the lower town. The square was blissfully empty and the sun was out. It looked so very "French".
Place de Carnot
Just a few steps on was the last standing gate from when the lower town was a walled city.
Portail des Jacobins
A short walk took me to the "old bridge" (pedestrian) where I got the first view of the city on the hill - wow!
I followed the tourist crowd around the base of the hill to a path that slowly climbed the side of the small mountain. Finally we reached the main entrance, the Gate of Narbonne. Inside the walls is a perfectly preserved medieval village. It was like entering Harry Potter's Diagon Alley (just as crowded, too)
As it was Sunday, the cathedral would only be open after services, so I wandered the town (surprisingly large). Apparently people still live there, but it looks more like a collection of cafes/restaurants/museums/gift shops.
The cathedral is small, but the interior is stunning with amazing stained glass.
Finding a place to eat at a reasonable price that was not already "reserved" (lots of tour groups) was surprisingly difficult. I thought I might have the traditional cassoulet, but any place I inquired was already fully booked (or outrageously expensive).
Cassoulet is a rich stew originating in southern France. The food writer Elizabeth David described it as "that sumptuous amalgamation of haricot beans, sausage, pork, mutton and preserved goose, aromatically spiced with garlic and herbs". It originated in the town of Castelnaudary in the Aude department in the Occitanie region. Variants of the dish are local to other towns and cities in the Aude.
(Wikipedia)
I enjoyed a very tasty sandwich on a baguette!
Then I was on a mission - to find the place that gives the classic view over the citadel (that I had seen in photos). The walk led me out into vineyards that started directly behind the castle hill. The scenery was breathtaking, but alas - the location of the views of the old city from afar was not easily found. I loved the detour through the grapevines, though!
Finally, it was time to go. The sun had come out on occasion and lit up the place, but overall it was windy and cold (and it was mobbed).
I exited via a different door and walked back down to the city through a park on the river. The walk was peaceful and quiet (but still not providing any good views). I felt happy to have crossed an item off the bucket list.
Back down in La Bastide (the lower town) I walked around the more "modern" (17th-18th century) buildings. The place was pleasant, but my feet were tired. I found a nice cafe on the Place du Carnot which I had passed earlier and treated myself to a hot coffee and pastry.
After recovering, I realized I still had time, so I went back to check on the canal boat tours. I had just missed one that would have fit my schedule. The following one returned too late for me to catch the return train.
I wandered down the canal (beautiful) until it clouded over definitively and walking became too cold.
I decided to wait it out in the station (about an hour) and just watch the flow of humanity. I was tired, but satisfied.
All in all it had been a good day and I focused on the parts that I enjoyed. The ride back to Nîmes was uneventful (and on time!).
I slept very well.
Montpellier
The day was clear and I was looking forward to the short train ride to Montpellier (a city I knew nothing about except that Vermont's capital has the same name - minus one "l"). When I arrived at the train station, something was wrong - the queue at the ticket office was huge. The past two days there had been none.
Then I looked at the departure board - "due to an act of vandalism all high speed trains on the southwest line are experiencing extreme delays and/or cancellations". Ugh. The domino effect across the system was already evident. Maybe it would be a full day in Nîmes for me.
Around lunch time, the line thinned and I still had time to get to Montpellier and back in daylight hours. I just bought the ticket in time for a noon train only to have it delayed by all the TGVs sitting in the station waiting to take "the old line".
France, like the US, was moving ahead at light speed in development - and at the same time, not ready for it. The entire rail system for a large portion of the country was down because of one cable... A very large, yet fragile system collapsed due to something minor. That thought sent chills down my spine.
After arriving in the station (much like a New York Penn Station arrival - underground), I found my way "into the light". In the main hall, the new station roof was modern, bright, and airy belying the dark platforms below. I exited into sunshine and a street of lovely buildings lined with palm trees.
Rue de Maguelone
Montpellier's most famous location is the Place de la Comédie - a collection of theatres and mid-19th century buildings created on top of the old city fortifications and near the St. Roch railway station. I was awestruck at how beautiful it was - and the place was full of people, too! Why would anyone have to go to Paris, when they could experience similar in much-easier-to-deal-with Montpellier?
I ate lunch along the Esplanade de Charles de Gaulle which is just off the Place de la Comédie. A lovely pedestrian street with a park adjacent to it, it is lined with outdoor cafes. Lunch felt so "French" - like I was on the Champs-Élysées of Paris, how I imagined it would be rather than the reality (not so nice).
Right behind the esplanade is the maze of streets that is old Montpellier. Like Avignon, I thought - how did I not know about this?
I wandered the old city eventually finding its main square, Place des Martyrs-de-la-Résistance with its typically beautiful city hall. Most of the square was ripped up for renovation unfortunately.
I continued wandering the streets - Montpellier's old town was fully intact and huge!
Rue Saint Come
Saint Roch Church
Eventually, I found the cathedral with its very unique entry - unlike anything else I had seen in Europe. I cannot say I liked it, but I appreciated that it was different. Even when a person loves something (like, for example, gothic cathedrals), it can all get "samey". I appreciated the unique character of the place.
A must-see: the porch, an imposing canopy supported by huge circular piers 4.55m in diameter that once bore the coat of arms of Urban V, a student and teacher in Montpellier, then appointed bishop before being elected pope in Avignon (1362).
Finally I reached the other side of the old city, and its Promenade du Peyrou complete with a small Arc de Triomphe and a grand avenue carved through the old city right to the main square (kind of a shame). The park sits high above the city and provides incredible views along with another equestrian statue of Louis XIV. 17th century France and its orderly rows of trees and landscaped gardens lie just outside of the old town.
It was getting late and I had to cross the old city to get to the train. The day's delay had cost me some time, and given the lovely (but windy) weather, I could have easily roamed a bit more or sat for a coffee somewhere. However, given the gravity of the situation with the rail lines, I was lucky to have made it at all. The return train was actually on time!
Montpellier had exceeded all my expectations.
Nîmes (night)
Back in Nîmes it was still sunny (and warm) and I looked forward to aperitivo in town. I had missed the day before due to the late arrival from Carcassonne. Unfortunately, it was Monday night and nearly every cafe was closed. I found one open (without outdoor seating) near the arena and ducked in for a couple glasses of red.
It turns out that the bar, Le Prolé de Nîmes, is a beloved place in the city (since 1908) famous for its convivial atmosphere and cheap drinks. The young bartender was extremely friendly and took time to explain all the (cheap) wine possibilities by the glass.
I sipped on the wine and noted people of all ages there (as it was one of the few places open).
It had been a very good day even if the start was rough.
Sète
I must admit to hitting the wall before the trip to Sète. I had loved Avignon, Carcassonne, and Montpellier and was afraid of pushing my luck - especially with a place of which I had never heard (and the pass-through on the train to Carcassonne did not impress me either). The weather was forecast to be amazing - why should I leave Nîmes?
Thank God I did.
I arrived in Sète and exited into what the French say is their version of Venice. Since so many places claim to be "the Venice of XX", my expectations were low. However, right out of the station is a bridge crossing a canal lined with 19th century buildings and colorful moored boats. The street straight ahead was a lovely tree-lined avenue.
The green Victor Hugo Avenue opens onto a lovely square in front of the city's opera house. That was unexpected - clearly Sète had money (an understatement). How had I never heard of this place? As I found out later, even cruise ships stop there on occasion.
Sète Station
Ave. Victor Hugo
It appeared that everyone not only has a boat, but likely a view of the water.
Lunch time was coming on and I crossed over into the main part of the city. The old city was literally built up the side of the small Mt. Saint-Clair. There I found the Place Aristide Briand with a metal sculpture of an octopus! Nearby the restaurants were opening up for lunch and I saw a place was serving "Octopus in red sauce over potatoes" - I took that as a sign and ordered it. Yum!
Place Aristide Briand
To walk off lunch I climbed the streets above the town which were filled with small (and likely expensive) homes. In fact, the mountain was absolutely covered in them! Surprisingly, it still kept a green appearance (thank God). The walk was steep, but "easy" (on a sidewalk). There were occasional stops with panoramic views of town or the Mediterranean. The weather was fabulously warm and clear.
The GNV ferry was just arriving - I had no idea there was a ferry from this part of France to Tangier, Morocco!
From the top of the hill, the views over the lagoons in this part of France, the sea, and the town below were amazing. Just behind the viewpoint was a small chapel. It had been an exhausting but rewarding walk. I decided to return via more direct stairs - there I met many people on the way up. I am not sure I could have handled all those stairs and felt happy to have taken the road.
Chapel of Notre-Dame-de-la-Salette
Back down on the canals, with time left before my return, I slowed life down and had a coffee to watch the people and boats go by. Sète was too beautiful not to stop and soak it all in for a while.
With the remaining time on my hands, I walked back toward the station and made a short detour to an old fishing neighborhood facing the lagoon. The route passed under two drawbridges for both cars and trains. The one for the trains included the high speed line. I wondered how a raised bridge messed with that schedule? (perhaps no worry - even the TGV in France is late all the time).
At a place called La Pointe Courte I found some more restaurants and immediately wished I had eaten there rather than in town (which was expensive). On a little peninsula was a "real" fishing village with simple homes and a jumble of boats, nets, and "shacks". It felt very genuine compared to the wealthy city just beyond the bridges.
Next time - I will eat there.
I rested my weary feet on the ride back to Nîmes. I had walked a lot! Once again, I am happy I forced myself to go somewhere when I was tired and unsure. Sète truly is an amazing place.
Aperitivo in Nîmes
Although in France I should have had more wine, I wanted to try a craft beer pub not far from the hotel. As it turned out the place was convivial and the bartender very friendly. I enjoyed "Nim'Ale" - one of their own.
The bartender did not speak English, but as he was not a "kid" (as almost all the servers had been in the city) I wanted to ask him about jeans. Why?
Most Americans assume jeans are American (and they are), but the fabric is absolutely not. The fabric was from Nîmes (originally) - "de Nîmes" = denim. I asked if he knew about that history and he said proudly "of course, there is an entire exhibition in the local museum about it". Wow! The city not only has an ancient pedigree, but it gave birth to a fabric that people wear all over the world!
I had another full day in Nîmes the following day, but rain was in the forecast and it was a travel day as well. Near sunset I was to head for Spain.
Nîmes to Girona
One more train ride and I would be in Spain, the last country of the trip. Due to the fact that SNCF proved itself extremely unreliable, I didn't want to take any chances on making a connection. The only direct train available from Nîmes to Girona left in the late afternoon making for a 9pm arrival. I hated arriving so late - if the train were delayed, all the worse.
Thus, I had an entire day to kill - and it rained, all day.
At least the hotel room was mine until noon, so I spent time relaxing and listening to some music (and reorganizing my bag which had shifted from mostly clean to mostly dirty clothes). I checked out, stowed my suitcase at reception, and went for a simple lunch. Still many hours to kill...
I badly needed a shave. One plus side of all the Arabs who have migrated to France over the years is good (and relatively cheap - for Europe) barbers. I got myself all cleaned up before heading to Spain. It felt wonderful. My last shave in Dubai was a fraction of the price, but I didn't care.
The rain intensified and I ended up in the hotel lobby for the remaining hours on my phone researching Girona, Spain. After all, I needed to find a good breakfast and decent places to eat.
Finally, the train came (late - only 20 minutes) and I found my seat: no strange companions as with my last two high-speed trips. It was night and there was nothing to see along the way except the huge white cross atop Mt. Saint-Clair, Sète. After reaching Perpignan and the usual long wait before crossing a border (waiting for approval), the train got on the Spanish/French-built high speed rails through the Pyrenees. The train was "à grande vitesse" the rest of the journey as we zoomed under the mountains and into Spain. To be fair, the train made up the delay and we arrived on time (thank God).
Arrival in Girona was confusing (it is not a big city) and I soon understood why. A totally new (subterranean) station had been constructed only for high speed rail. We exited: up and up and up. When I finally emerged, I had to walk across a plaza and through the old station to exit. The high speed station was amazing, but completely over-the-top for such a small place. Did Girona expect hundreds of high speed trains coming over from France? Why didn't they just improve Girona Station with a few new platforms? The investment appeared to be incredible overkill (and wasteful).
Luckily, the hotel was a very short walk from the station and soon I was in the room (and ready to sleep). It had been a very dull day, but an anxious one - mostly worried that the train would be on time (or even cancelled). I had come to mistrust SNCF.
Finally, I would get to explore Girona - a place I had wanted to see for years.
Girona
The day I arrived and that evening, it had rained in Girona. The following day was brilliant sunshine and the air felt crisp and fresh - like it had been cleaned. After breakfast at a cafe near the hotel (shockingly cheap after France), I set out for the old city.
I passed by an old hospital that had been converted into public space as an event venue. I was immediately impressed with Girona's embrace of its past and wanting to use it (not just "museum" it) into the future. I crossed the River Onyer (which had very little water - kind of worrying) and set out to see the old city walls.
the walls
The walls of Girona date back to Roman times, but what exist today are mostly from the Medieval period (still old). The city created a walkway so visitors can follow the walls up the hills to a high point and back down. The best part of walking the walls was the views they provide.
Along the way I passed an old church and was treated to exceptional views of the cathedral and the Anglican Basilica in the morning light.
Monestir de Sant Pere de Galligants
As I finished up with the walls I passed a mural just before the river. It reminded me how much I loved Spain for such kinds of art.
narrow streets
The Barri Vell (old city), enclosed by the walls on three sides and the river in front, is a mass of narrow streets. The houses on the river back onto it providing the "fourth wall" to defend the city. The old city is connected to the new city across the river mostly by narrow footbridges that enter the city via narrow archways.
Bonus Find:
Girona is a city that is steeped in history and culture. Girona has quite a few bridges but the most famous of them all is this one, built by Gustave Eiffel's company before embarking on the construction of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. The Iron Bridge, Pont de les Peixateries Velles, or Pont de Eiffel as it is known is famous for its red color and use of metal. It was built by Eiffel's company in 1876 and connects the heart of the old city with the new city.
Pont de las Peixateries Velles
lunch
I was ready for one of my favorite things in Spain, "menu del dia". Either it is not popular in Girona or Spain has changed. In the La Plaça de la Independència on the "new" side of town in a square filled with cafes - none were offering a lunch special. Everyone, however, had tapas (for lunch?). Those places were not catering only to tourists either.
Eventually I had a nice set meal of calamari, fries, and salad overlooking the square.
Had my favorite meal gone the way of the dodo?
churches
After eating I crossed back into the old city to explore its narrow streets (some of which were in permanent shadow). First stops were the two main churches of town - the Anglican Basilica and the Cathedral. Their entry fees were exorbitant - I passed. I was enjoying exploring the old streets anyway.
cathedral
Craft Beer
Post lunch walk, I had a deserved rest at the hotel and caught up with things I hate like paying the credit card (Europe had become so expensive). The trip was drawing to a close (as was the month) and such things cannot be avoided.
It was time for aperitivo and I went to find a highly recommended craft beer place. I looked forward to it especially after finding that nice bar in Nîmes.
I still can't believe how crushingly disappointing the establishment was. On the new side of the city in a modern building inside the equivalent of a strip mall was a place that people gave rave reviews on the internet. The "bar" was in a rectangular space, nearly bare except for some taps at the end of the room and a few refrigerators with beer (quite a selection). There was very little seating and no food.
I did sit down for one good local beer, but the atmosphere was zero. Yet again, reviews from the internet can be incredibly misleading. Get a bunch of friends to write rave reviews I guess? I was shocked no one had given it a bad review - not one! With all the great places to eat and drink in Spain, I would have never chosen it.
I ended up getting a sandwich from a local bakery and calling it a night. Not every aperitivo can be fantastic, but I felt disappointed. Spain had rarely let me down and that experience was just terrible.
The next day was the last full day of the journey. What to do? Travel or just rest?
Day Two
I planned two days in Girona, one for the city and one for a possible day trip. Given the weather was good and all the best day trips were an hour each way on a bus, I decided to enjoy the city for another day and roam around its old streets.
After breakfast, I had a second coffee at Espresso Mafia in the old city. It came highly recommended online as they roast their own beans. That was immediately obvious from the taste. I sat down to a coffee under an old archway and watched Girona wake up. No free WiFi at the cafe, but I wasn't surprised. Very few places offered free internet as they had on past visits to Spain.
I walked back to the hotel and asked the young receptionist about some of the changes I noticed post-COVID. Yes, there were far fewer "menu del dia" than in the past and restaurants were less generous with food and drink. And, yes, few places gave free WiFi compared to pre-COVID. Mainly, she told me that the economy had been so bleak businesses could no longer afford things as per previous practices. I felt happy to have done most of my travels in Spain in the "good times".
Lunch was at a vegan craft beer place. At first I thought it was a strange combo, but then I realized that beer is vegan, so it wasn't such a strange pairing after all. The place DID offer a menu del dia with one beer included. Both the beer (local) and the food were excellent. The service was good - I felt at peace.
I took some time then as I wandered to process all I had seen - I had definitely reached sensory overload. I also had to think about the following day - Barcelona. I am not a big fan of the city (I don't hate it either). I was going to take the fast train and then the metro. I loathe taking my bags on the metro, but it was just for a few stops.
It seemed everything was in order for the next big leg of the trip.
Girona to Barcelona
The morning started cloudy and overcast. I had my usual breakfast and prepared myself. It was going to be a challenging day ahead navigating Barcelona Sants Station and then taking the metro (the station was always crazy busy). At least the train came on time.
The start of the journey was mostly through tunnels, but they gave way to landscape. Even though the scenery was occasionally lovely, the lighting in the train car made taking photos nearly impossible. One thing I noted was how green the journey was - almost like traveling in northern Spain in Asturias. A lot of people lived there, too - the route passed village after village.
The train arrived and I found my way to the metro where buying a ticket was a hassle and completely different from what was explained in detail on the official Barcelona Tourist Information website. I managed it - I just didn't appreciate how obtuse the process was. Metro systems are never made for tourists - New York City's is far worse to use as a first-timer.
Then I had a very long walk with multiple flights of stairs to the L3 line (with a bag and no escalators). I was just wishing it was over. At least the metro wasn't crowded because it was a public holiday (All Saints Day). I made it to Drassanes Station and exited at the lower end of Barcelona's famous La Rambla. I was nearly there.
Barcelona
At Drassanes Metro Station I took a deep breath - I only had a short walk left. In front of me stood the venerable old buildings of the Port of Barcelona, Spain's most important. Before Barcelona was "in", it was still a hugely important commercial and navy port and the old government buildings from a different age remain clustered there.
Spanish Navy Headquarters
Military Government Building
Former Customs House
End of the line
I walked toward the ferry terminal which serves both normal ferries departing across the Mediterranean and the behemoth cruise ships (with multiple terminals). A convenient bus makes regular rounds to take passengers to the pier.
I met another American guy who was (like many retirees) a "frequent cruiser". He noted, however, that "things keep changing" (which is true). We really didn't know what to expect. After a short ride, we arrived at the "Helix" terminal to an apparent mass of people. 4000 plus were getting on the ship!
I had done it! Now it was time to relax.
Sun Princess
Afterthoughts
My goal of connecting the dots on all my travels through Europe was fulfilled. In that way, my journey was a great success. In actuality, the only part I had to travel was between Innsbruck, Austria and Bolzano, Italy - but that didn't fit into the larger plan easily (plus it was already getting cold and both of those towns would have been frigid). Another long-held goal of mine was to visit Slovenia, so it made more sense to travel from Vienna to Ljubljana and onto Trieste by train (and the weather would be slightly warmer).
Vienna is my long-time favorite city. It is shockingly expensive after COVID, but I still love it there. I wanted to visit Graz because I had already traveled across most of Austria during my European journeys and it was the only major city I hadn't passed through. The old city center was definitely a highlight. I can safely say I have "done" Austria now.
The trip to Ljubljana was surprisingly enjoyable and I was amazed by the variety of landscapes in such a small country. I would definitely return and highly recommend it to others. Lake Bled was super-touristy but still fantastic and old Ljubljana was enchanting (Graz was better, but having the river flow through the old city in Ljubljana is unique). Slovenia holds mountains and lakes to explore (which might now be for people younger than me). My timing was terrible in that my short stay coincided with one of the city's biggest events - its marathon.
I liked Trieste even in the rain. As one of my ex-colleagues pointed out, "Italians love Trieste because it is so non-Italian". The city is one of those places in Europe where cultures come together. In this case it was Venice and the Habsburg Empire. It feels like a German city historically controlled by Italians and Slavs but now populated with Italians who drink beer and love sausage and potatoes. What a mix. I would definitely return. And the arrival via road from Opicina is undoubtedly one of the most dramatic in all of Europe.
I had no conception of Lyon before going - the city impressed me repeatedly. It is big and filled with "big city culture", and it is also shockingly expensive. I wished I had made more time for France pre-COVID. I believe I missed the boat on that. The old city of Lyon and its 18th-19th century center are definitely worth visiting.
Nîmes is everything a tourist would want from a European city in a small package: great Roman ruins, a medieval center, a grand 19th century avenue, and a central train station connected to several wonderful towns nearby (Avignon, Montpellier, and Sète). I loved Nîmes and the day trips were all amazing (especially Avignon - just wow).
Carcassonne should have been visited in more than one day. It lived up to my expectations and more. The entry via the Porte de Narbonne into its medieval city is nothing short of entering a Harry Potter film set. The weather could have cooperated more, but at least it didn't rain. After Lake Bled, it was my second big "tick" of places I always wanted to visit. I think an overnight would have made for a less frantic visit.
Girona was definitely Spanish (Catalan) and although filled with French tourists (Spain is half the price of France), it is nothing like Trieste - no cultural mixing going on. In fact, Girona is very much Catalan to the point that some places are sign posted in Catalan only. It reminded me of Quebec and French. Girona is sometimes hard to navigate because of that. Nonetheless, its old city, ancient walls, and houses lining the river are picturesque. No other place in Spain has anything similar. I was happy I stayed there instead of Barcelona.
In sum, Europe has changed a lot post-COVID. It is far more cashless and "app dependent". Although for residents it is likely easy, for tourists - not as much. Who wants to install an app and register (with a credit card) to use something just one time? I always was faced with a crisis of small money. It is difficult to change money and request small bills. Using a 100 euro note is difficult outside of an official transaction (like at the railway station). The experience was very "developing country". In Indonesia and Bangladesh I always told people that small bills had a greater value than larger ones because no one could break a large bill. Europe sadly has become that way, too.
Another problem appeared to be a once orderly Europe starting to break down. Trains were chronically late, things were broken and not repaired, and most importantly the mood of most people appeared somber - most notably in Spain (where I was used meeting far happier people). I was glad to do the trip, but I am not so sure I want to rush back. I always said, "I want to see Europe before it's gone". Well, I think I did that and it has already reached the tipping point. The Europe I learned about in high school and university is slowly disappearing.
I have now traveled as follows (by train or ferry):
Tokyo to Osaka; Osaka to Shanghai; Shanghai to Beijing; Beijing to Moscow; Moscow to Kyiv; Kyiv to Warsaw; Warsaw to Berlin; Berlin to Dresden; Dresden to Prague; Prague to Brno; Brno to Vienna; Vienna to Ljubljana; Ljubljana to Trieste; Trieste to Milan to Lyon; Lyon to Barcelona; Barcelona to Zaragoza; Zaragoza to Burgos; Burgos to Valladolid to León; León to A Coruña.
Completing that goal only became important later in life when I realized how close I was to doing it. I have indeed been lucky to have achieved it.
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