tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60466896050358347512024-03-14T16:01:23.288+11:00Upside Down Chronicles 2Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger181125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-12597763789720158952012-12-07T00:32:00.003+11:002012-12-07T00:32:47.142+11:00New Blog Time! Run out of pictures space again! New blog at <br />
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<a href="http://upsidedownchronicles3.blogspot.com.au/">http://upsidedownchronicles3.blogspot.com.au/</a><br />
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All nice and fresh in time for the New Year, eh? See you over there. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-23096611546987067082012-11-20T18:34:00.003+11:002012-11-20T18:34:51.425+11:00Every girl's idea of Heaven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Muscled man in pink marigolds cleans oven, just before cooking you dinner, while you sit back and sip on Hunter Valley finest Chardonnay. And that's just the start of the evening. <br />
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It's true, girls. Not just some wild kinky fantasy. It actually happens. <br />
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Oh, gloat. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-42752111530333209382012-11-08T13:50:00.001+11:002012-11-10T09:12:25.137+11:00Halloween 2012<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Meow. It’s just not fair that you should miss out on all the fun. Have a look at our thumping good Halloween party last week. Here’s Abiela being Puss In Boots. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Of course, there are very few pictures as usual from any kids’ party, because I’m always far too busy doing stuff and leading games. There are a few pics from the "Wrap the Mummy" game because I could stand back for a few minutes and watch them all wrap each other up in toilet paper – rare respite. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Oh, and here’s Klaus. The wig really pulls the whole thing together, don’t you think? Caused a few gasps when the mums dropped their kids off. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">This is while they were all still gathering up and generally milling to loud music. Isn’t Charlie (the mummy) in the background doing well with his dance moves? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Here’s Coco being wrapped by the smallest kid there. Good mummification, girl! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You can’t see Lara very well here in her Bat Queen outfit, but she’s helping herself to the fare. The mystery of kids... we calculated that just over half a sandwich and a fifth of a pizza per kid for 35 kids should be consumed even if they weren’t on peak eating mode.... SO much left over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have now worked out the following formula</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">f</i> = <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">k</i>/<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">s</i> x <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">t</i>/<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">s</i></strong> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Where <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">f</i> = food, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">k</i>=kids and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">t</i>=time. As the number of sweets increase, both the number of kids and the time elapsed decrease in significance, and food becomes less no matter what the circumstance. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As there aren’t many pics from the party, here are some from the run-up. Coco, Flash and Lara sitting between Charlie and.... I’m so sorry, I forget the skeleton’s name. The decorations were extensive, a whole army of zombies and mummies came out of the closets in Graham Street and took up residence, much to everyone’s delight. My personal favourite may be the witch holding an apple, who cackles hysterically when you push her button, but there were many others, including giant spiders, severed heads, caged ghouls, witches galore, distorting mirrors, vampire hog bats.... We might (possibly) make another ‘Second’ family party of it next week when the kids are back, which might afford a few more opportunities to see everyone’s costumes. They were quite good, I have to say. </span></div>
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Getting into scary mode.... Oh, and <em>always</em> practice frightening faces sitting on the sofa in your wetsuit. </div>
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The pumpkin getting his lobotomy</div>
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"Ooh, how's it going to turn out??" </div>
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Very nicely, thank you. Klaus with Lord Denby (this year's pumpkin's name). It was wonderful to sit back and watch him carve it - no struggling with hard pumpkin for <em>me</em> this year, he just carved through it like butter, in about five minutes. Ah, bliss. </div>
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And here's one of Flash looking pretty on the kitchen table. As they do. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That’s about it for Halloween pictures, I’m afraid. We had a great time at the party but that evening Flash came down with a gastro sort of flu Lara must have brought back on Monday (she was ill off school that day) and by Friday the whole lot of them were throwing up all over the place. Saturday was spent recuperating, and Sunday everyone was back on track (might have some other pics from then, actually... just a few) but in short the only person who was completely unaffected was me. Touch wood. Which must (incidentally) be what my stomach is made of. Anyway, a very happy November to everyone </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-55098028883060290132012-09-19T13:37:00.000+10:002012-09-19T13:37:12.402+10:008th September 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
As Coco was missing from the last post, here she is at the Reptile Park on the 8th, instead. There's a certain degree of Flumpage going on as it was just before lunch and energy levels were at a low ebb at this point.</div>
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The shows at the Reptile Park were pretty crowded. Oh, and if the OBNOXIOUS WHITE HAIRED LADY who wouldn't move back a little from the front of the boundary so a couple of seven year olds could stand in front of her to see the show (she was short and ugly but taller than them, at least), and instead waved her huge telephoto lense about the place in any available gap there was taking rubbishy pics, is reading this: you suck big time and will hopefully be trampled underfoot sometime soon. We were fantasizing later about strapping her into a REALLY high swing and giving her a nice big push - if she wants to be treated like a kid that much she can haev the whole hog, see how she likes it. </div>
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.... Sorry, got a bit carried away. Anyway luckily for Lara she's light and got a lift. Along with Teddy.</div>
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Koalas dripping in their lump-of-sooty-fat way. </div>
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dingos... </div>
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... and petting the tortoise. This one's a domeback, and a spratling at 65 years of age. </div>
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As you can see, it was (again) a beautiful day and we had a great time. Oh my gosh and the picnic.... mmm... barbecued chicken and lovely bread, strawberries, cookies (see below), wine from the Hunter (yum), spreads and cheeses galore, we could barely move afterwards.</div>
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The only unfortunate thing was that there seemed to be a flash tummy bug going round. Abiela wasn't feeling too well and got worse, so we didn't stay too long - and later Kalus came down with the same thing. Luckily, was just a transitory affair. All well by the evening. </div>
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Lara practicing jumping-over-the-ditch..... </div>
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...and then all together.</div>
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Oh yes, reaching for the giant Funnleweb in the Spider emporium. Lovely. </div>
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Coco and Lara stayed in here for ages, absolutely loving the idea of sitting on a fake toilet with fake (huge) redbacks all over it. Couldn't stop giggling for at least 15 minutes. </div>
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In fact, they stayed there for so long that we moved on to the crocodiles (or the frogs, I forget which) so I went back to make sure they knew where we were. I got back and was poo-poohed with a "you're not still counting kids, are you?" Apparently with this number in tow, the rule is a) some degree of attrition is acceptable and b) keep up or be left behind. Bit of a Pirate Code thing going on. Seems to work OK so I guess he knows what he's talking about. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-12564067366212165222012-09-19T06:47:00.000+10:002012-09-19T06:47:09.564+10:007th September 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Ok, as promised, some pics of the little ones. This was back form September 7th (so the computer says). We went to,,, I'm jiggered if I can remember. Ah, I know, up north to Anna Bay. Astonishingly, Klaus and the Kiddies hadn't actually been, and in fact I (with my fantastic sense of geography and direction) think I got Anna Bay confused with Nelson Bay. I was actually aiming at the nice fish and chip shop up there. Well, it was just as well. We had a great time. A bit windy but a beautiful spring day, no-one around, and we stopped at the one and only eatery in Anna Bay where I once again had a bacon and egg roll. (I may remember nothing of roads, location, names, but I remember the greasy spoon cafe on a dingy road that served me a tasty bacon and egg roll over two years ago). </div>
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Here's Lara and Arizona on the beach with a washed-up Port Jackson shark egg case. Delight! </div>
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Windy picninc, with fish and chips and burgers. I kick myself that I missed the bit where the crazy man chased his kids round and round the oval threatening them with a dead fish they found on the grass, yelling 'Mr Fishy, Mr Fishy' or something or the sort. Perhaps Clingons were involved, too. </div>
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Rocky walk along the beach. Arizona is endlessly patient with helping Lara climb over things.</div>
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'King of the Rocks' seat, randomly put there by ... Poseidon, I guess. Great look out to sea. How could one resist? <br />
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Arizona and Lara on the 'seat'</div>
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Fantastic wave-watching spot...</div>
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... more than a little alarming for some...</div>
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...and drenching for those who step too near! </div>
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How Abiela managed to navigate those rocks in flip-flops is a mystery, but it seemed to pose no trouble at all to her. Oh, I should explain (before signing off) that Coco and Flash were at a birthday party, hence the reduced number of kids. With that, I have to go. Nearly 7 am, which is when I have to leave to get Lara to Oosh, and come back on time to get to work. She has her school disco today, school term nearing the end and all sorts of craziness coming up. </div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-28135954334402715702012-09-17T13:42:00.003+10:002012-09-17T13:42:26.538+10:00Update - Yes, it's mid-September<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Now I know the grandparents really want pics of Lara. None on this post because it's just of the weekend gone by, and she's been with Ian... Apologies. Nevertheless it's a lovely stretch of coast that we visited, and even as it is the number of pics have been culled drastically. We went camping up to Hat Head National Park (about three and a bit hours' drive up from Newcastle) for a couple of days. Couldn't be better weather, really - not too hot, beautiful skies (as you'll see), gorgeous bush walks. </div>
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We stayed at Smokey Cape, and here's the lighthouse. This beach is just next to the campground. </div>
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Having reached the place in the afternoon (late start), and after wandering out randomly onto the aforesaid beach, we reckoned there must be a path up to the lighthouse from the beach. </div>
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Possibly there was. What we found was a kangaroo track, which lead us up through the bush, occasionally crawling through the undergrowth. Not exactly wheelchair friendly for the guidebooks. Plenty of kangaroo poo though. I reckoned the roos must surely know where they're going so forged on ahead regardless. Got there eventually. Not before being called Captain Crazy Pom. Here's a view from the top. </div>
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Next day we went for a MASSIVE bush walk, all up from Smokey Cape northwards... my hips are still aching. Stunning spring bush, everything in a myriad shades of green, birds everywhere, glorious green-and-sea smell... what more could one want. </div>
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Some roo tracks on the beach (can't exactly remember which one, this was in the middle of the walk) </div>
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Up at the lighthouse. The roos aren't shy at ALL. </div>
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This is back down at the beach near the campsite, I think. </div>
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Ah, here's the lighthouse. More or less at dawn on Saturday, I think... pics are rather messed out of order, aren't they. Note the picturesque morning mist. It's artistic. </div>
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View towards the beach... </div>
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Klaus at the top of... actually I can't remember. Perhaps it's near the lighthouse. </div>
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Another picturesque bit of sand-motion. Artistic. </div>
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Me wearing a lighthouse on my head. </div>
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Ah, here's the campsite. Very comfy tent. Took TWO duvets so it was snug as anything - most comfortable camping I've ever experienced! </div>
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This was the view from up near the north end, beautiful dragon trees (we think that's what they're called), stunning sea. </div>
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Mr Big Roo saying bye as we leave the campsite on Sunday</div>
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On the way back we stopped at Seal Rocks. Guess what, they have ANOTHER lighthouse there, so of course we climbed up. Truly spectacular rock-stuff in this corner of the world. </div>
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Impressive gorge, sploshing through all the time, on the way up to the lighthouse at Seal Rocks. </div>
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Same place, just with both of us obscuring the nice view. </div>
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Here I think we're obscuring the view from the top of the lighthouse at Seal Rocks. The very top. </div>
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View unobscured.</div>
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Found a place on an almost-island at Seal Rocks that was (more or less) out of the sun AND out of the wind to have our picnic at. Named Pigwig Island. Tuna sandwiches and red wine, plus copious chocolate biscuits - yum. </div>
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View from the summit of Pigwig Island. (That's not its real name, by the way, just that we had a picnic there. Don't actually know what it's called. </div>
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Ok gotta go. Net is really dodgy so I always have to go back to Hatfield Street to load up the pics but I'll try and get some of Lara and the Kiddies in asap ... not today though. Keep your fingers crossed for me getting back on track with this thing!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-51571817808982320382012-07-27T07:06:00.002+10:002012-07-27T07:16:38.869+10:00Was that really June gone?<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">June 11<sup>th</sup>, apparently. That’s how long it’s been. Shucks. Ma’ bad. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Lara came back from what seemed like a very long two weeks at Ian’s with nearly three hundred pictures in her camera, which sparked my hopes but it as it turned out most of them were of fish. No, that’s not as random as it sounds: it was the holidays and he took her down to the Sydney Aquarium, which (naturally) she enjoyed immensely. Came back with<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>plush blue-ringed octopus, which is now duly resident in her bed (a place more crowded than inner-city circles of Bangladesh).</span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Here she is on her bike at the foreshore. Had a very long ride. <span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Still has stabilizers on but at least she’s pedalling now. </span></span><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Had to post this one, for the Camel. New camel outside Newcastle Museum. It's quite startling, actually. Wasn't really expecting it. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", "serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Lara with one of her favourite things in the Museum – the lift-the-car-because-we’re-using-levers trick</span><br />
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Apparently it was warm enough to paddle! Shivers. Still, nice day. </div>
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Shark attack on beach! </div>
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Always line up your cupcakes on the floor and roar over them. It's the rule. </div>
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I know this is ridiculously short but I think Lara's awake now and I've got a hell of a lot to do today. Laters.</div>
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-92186973040019635542012-06-11T20:57:00.001+10:002012-06-11T21:03:41.979+10:00May catch-up<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">OK, it’s been a hideously, unbelievably long time. Yes, I know you all reckoned I was dead and buried. No, we’re alive and kicking, really. Life has been… fast. No, it’s not an excuse, just a statement. The state of the pictures is such that as at the moment I don’t even have a ‘June’ folder of pics, and it’s already the 11<sup>th</sup>. Here are some random ones from May. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Caves Beach (first time round) digging for Pirate Gold (and yes, isn't it amazing, she found some)</span></div>
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Caves Beach... from above... </div>
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Here's one from when Claudia came round for a weekend and they were starting up the disco downstairs</div>
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I think this was Burwood, with Daddy. The dog is Jackie, Gabby's mum's dog.</div>
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Artistic pictures courtesy of chez Daddy's</div>
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Back with Claudia again... though you couldn't tell. It's really just two manatees in a hot tub</div>
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Speer's Point Park, on the flying fox. No, this one's Claudia. I know, they look similar from a distance</div>
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Ditto, Speeer's point. Don't ask me to remember which weekend this was. Sometime in May. </div>
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Back at Caves Beach, ditto weekend. No, don't know which child this was. </div>
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Well, that's one of each of them, anyway. </div>
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Still digging for Pirate Gold. They went to the supermarket afterwards and spent a good half-hour choosing what sweeties they would buy with the loot afterwards. It seemed almost more thrilling than unearthing the gold. </div>
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Evening at Caves Beach </div>
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Why are they looking up? At Balckbutt? </div>
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Because each one of those tiny blobs is a huge fruit bat. THOUSANDS of them. They're amazing. </div>
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with Klaus's kids in the cubby</div>
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Ditto, with lots of desserts</div>
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ditto, with lots of bouncin gon the trampoline</div>
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Of course, there are more... must download the June ones. Anyway I'll knock off here before it gets stale, keep your fingers crossed for me that I'll be back posting again reasonably regularly. Hope you're all well out there and special big good wishes to the Whale (and hope to catch up with you soon!) but big snogs all round. Generally typographically depicted as 'x x x' </div>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-32723555918364459682012-04-10T09:15:00.001+10:002012-04-10T09:16:46.734+10:00Chocolate CrumbsLara: "Good Friday isn't really <i>good</i>, is it."<br />
Mum: "Oh?"<br />
Lara: "Because that's when Jesus died on the cross."<br />
Mum: "Well I guess so, yes."<br />
Lara: "And then he came back from the dead three days later, on Sunday."<br />
Mum: "Yes, that's what Christians believe. But we aren't Christian."<br />
Lara (decidedly): "No. We're British."<br />
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Don't even go to the whole Easter Bunny thing. Hope you've all been having a good Easter, irrespective of chocolates.<br />
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Our little Easter Egg Hunt was on Saturday, starting at 10 in the morning. Kids came and did Bunny masks craft stuff until everybody was assembled, then we went onto Easter cookie making (I'd prepped the dough, they rolled and cut them out... BOY there were a lot of cookies). Then time for the hunt itself. You should have seen them straining at the door, waiting to be let out - it looked like something from the New Years' Hunt day, all they needed was the red jackets - or perhaps the bark and the wag. Here they are with the eggs.<br />
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We pooled the eggs afterwards and divvied them up, and I think (mostly) evaded egg-envy, which is always a danger with these things. After that there was general loud disco, lights and fogger nonsense downstairs, with balloons and cookies and cake trampled underfoot, so everything went smoothly. Later, some of the parents were in the mood for chat so we sat and I ate FAR too much cheese and had unseasonable bubbly... all pretty pleasant of a Saturday morning. They even helped me tidy up. However in the meantime Lara and the remaining kids holed themselves up in her room and had fun with Lara's camera, hence these pics:<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Honestly can't remember what we did after that. We only finished up at gone 3, anyway. I think there was a lot of tidying up, and some reading and perhaps even some telly. Quiet, satisfied evening. They're not half bad, of occasion. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-25253750990176594982012-03-29T11:46:00.000+11:002012-03-29T11:46:05.941+11:0029th March 2012 (Thursday)Ok that was a bit catatonic. Over a month's break is bad.<br />
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Made effort and took some pics last week when Lara was here (well that's the news that my regulars want, isn't it) so will post now... Wow, either Blogger's improved its photo capabilities immensely or (as usual) it might have been Internet Explorer hampering things previously. This little lot of pics took no time at all, usually they'd take ages. Guess which browser's chucked. Chrome here we come. Anyway where was I.<br />
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Here's Sophie and Lara on Friday with Chicky Baby, the class mascot that Sophie got to take home for the weekend. This whole thing turned into an impromptu mega-playdate/sleepover (much to the kiddie's delight) due to adult work schedules. Spaghetti with meatballs on the lawn (ok, picnic style, not directly on the lawn, I know they're 7 but they're not that bad) followed by romping and craft activities until about 9:30. Then (frankly) more romping until 10:30. Then some silence until 3am, when I found Sophie and Lara with lights blazing and full playsets out, entirely engrossed in some roleplay. Eventually had to separate them to make them get any sleep. They seem to have had a darn good time, though.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Abby and Caitlin (Sophie's sisters) joined us a little later on</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">mega craft activity: space monsters were a great hit. </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Next day (Saturday) Lara decided she wanted to go exploring along Burwood Beach - not only that but to go ALL the way to the end of it from Merewether Baths. For little legs that's a fair way, particularly after her night, but she made it. Here she is with a stone that looks exactly like a chocolate covered biscuit. Honest, it's a stone. </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Later on that day we went to Pete and Aleeta's, and Lara and Neve did puzzles while delicious pizzas were cooked (hats off to the chef, way better than my pizzas). Kids went to the park, had a ball, watched Madagascar after dinner. Can't believe Lara stayed awake until 8:30. </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The next day (Sunday) we took it relatively easy and it was the first day in the week where we didn't have appointments or playdates. Took Lara shopping for eggs for her Easter egg hunt on the 7th, and then she chose her own lunch at the supermarket. Lara's choice was salmon, potato and Chinese broccoli and sauteed red onions. Not bad combo. She's pretty good at food shopping when she wants to be. For the rest of the day we sorted stuff, did homework, chores and catching up. One day a week is a bit of a necessity on that front.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The rest of the week was as busy as the portion with the pictures. Monday she had gym, Tuesday swimming, Wednesday she had a playdate with Neve and Indiah but unfortunately was feeling ill with a tummy ache so we did a lot of sitting down and reading stories and playdoh and things that didn't need a lot of movement. Shortly after they left she was impressively sick, and we both had toast for dinner. Perked up reasonably by the end of the day and next day well enough to go to school. Thursday came bouncing back with her playdate Elyse and they had a fantastic time making (again) the space monsters. With that we're up to Friday again. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This week I know she's had MORE playdates (because I arranged them), Wednesday with Neve and Thursday with Elyse, and certainly yesterday she seemed to have had a great time because I picked her up afterwards (Ian has late lectures on Wednesdays at the moment). Beautiful weather here and it's all blue skies and scudding clouds, temperature at about 20, 21 degrees, pleasant as one could wish for. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Meanwhile I've been pretty busy with my own stuff but have a feeling that's not what people want to hear about. Having considerable trouble fitting everything in, particularly as the old insomnia problem recently raised its bleary head again, leaving me too tired to get up and do things and generally betwixt-and-between. Luckily this seems to be coming to an end. Started subbing to writing comps again after (wait for it, I keep a log so I know this is exact) FIVE MONTHS. Dear god. Anyway, gratifyingly, almost immediately I got one shortlist in some random comp and am ON THE LONGLIST FOR THE FISH! For those of you not in the know about writing comps, this is a big deal. I am, as they say, well chuffed. Of course would be even better if that moved up to the shortlist, but it's great as it is. So sitting here slightly basking and invigorated. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-84361546069787887182012-02-13T06:23:00.004+11:002012-02-13T12:02:00.586+11:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Chaos. Absolute chaos. Lara’s turned seven with a bang.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">As usual, photos from her parties are blurred, ill-constructed and scarce. With about 35 kids swarming about the house like termites on speed, there was absolutely no way I could stand there snapping pics. We all had a jolly good time, though – you’ll just have to take my word for it. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Action shot of the downstairs ... this is inbetween party games. Seems as if they're chair-jousting, but one can never be sure. By this time the house and garden was overrun with them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">small corner of adults huddled up with the cheeses</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The only shot of the cake, I think. It was huge and had a hammerhead on it. The icing turned everyone's tongue blue... including mine. I mean, BRIGHT blue. For quite a while. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Went outside and found them climbing dangerously in the back garden. Lovin' every minute, too. Luckily they all escaped unscathed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I think they were yelling something to the effect of 'We're on an adventure, I'm the king of the castle', from up there, but one can never be sure.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Secondary tug of war. First one was shotless as I was officiating. Officially, the Sharks won - though it was all a bit dubious because the kids all sort of slipped down the rope towards either side ... but the rope itself didn't see to move much. I judged it more on slippage-amount than anything else, probably. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Birthday girl</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the sort of decorations we put up all over the house</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Look in the far right-hand coner. That's her pile of presents. This time I managed to stop her from tearing them open without noting down who brought what - hurrah! Thank you ALL SO MUCH for the incredibly thoughtful gifts... we were sitting there afterwards marvelling and wow-ing, and saying over and over "WHERE did they get it?" and "HOW did they know?" She was absolutley bowled over. It's going to take her the next six months to get through trying them all out. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iAL4M1kO9PE/TzgKoNPfmZI/AAAAAAAABqw/ZCAV-QtHkXM/s1600/P1010600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iAL4M1kO9PE/TzgKoNPfmZI/AAAAAAAABqw/ZCAV-QtHkXM/s320/P1010600.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Specially-taken shot of her cotume. She was a manta ray. I thought she would take the cape off pretty quickly, but it stayed on the whole time. I was quite pleased with this one, because it didn't take long to make, it fitted first time round and it seems it was pretty comfy. Tell you what, I'm glad I got out of making her a goblin shark costume... that would have been something else. (Anyone who doesn't know what a goblin shark looks like, google it. Then reach for the Valium.) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XaMcu2zA8zM/TzgJI_Si78I/AAAAAAAABpg/LPNUHwlt6KE/s1600/P2120015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XaMcu2zA8zM/TzgJI_Si78I/AAAAAAAABpg/LPNUHwlt6KE/s320/P2120015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So there we are, that was the party. The three Radmore girls turned up early (by arrangement) and helped me IMMENSELY in the final stages of prep... you've never seen girls butter bread and scatter green sprinkles that fast in your life. Quite a bit of fallout afterwards, of course, but really not too bad, all things considered. For the first time, I ditched all 'proper' food (sausages count as proper, as well as any trace of fruit) and dished out endless quantities of ice-cream and jelly. Huge success. Interestingly consumption of crisps was down drastically, but popcorn went well. Freezer now full of the remains of Hammerhead Shark cake. Would you believe, I forgot to buy/locate birthday candles, so lit seven huge ones instead - luckily she didn't seem to mind, and there was a huge chorus of Happy Birthday so all was well. Party games were much more difficult to hold together than they were in the hall we rented last year, because the kids dispersed into every corner and it was hard to keep track of them or marshal them together - still, we did a good few and it kept them occupied. Relative hits were Megamouth Stuck In the Mud, Mackerel Hide and Seek and perhaps Musical Sharks. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-7009782461854693432012-02-03T20:00:00.001+11:002012-02-03T20:03:05.499+11:00January 30th-2nd 2012... A Bit Of An Adventure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">We’re back! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">It took us a while, though. Here’s Lara at Marco Polo airport in Venice: she loved the glowing balls outside. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zO1OgGGvuDg/TyuFDRDOp9I/AAAAAAAABjo/iFhu0vBauoA/s1600/P1010363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zO1OgGGvuDg/TyuFDRDOp9I/AAAAAAAABjo/iFhu0vBauoA/s320/P1010363.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Step One: get into the departures lounge and find our first flight is cancelled. Not delayed, cancelled. The only one to be cancelled, too. Oh well. We go to the Turkish Airline booth… and a LONG WHILE later, depart again sans W&W for the Hilton nearby. We’re to board a plane the next morning at 10:30. Here’s the Woofie and Lara being quite incensed. </span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qktwb_g4sCA/TyuFQXWBF7I/AAAAAAAABjw/n3rC0StokAg/s1600/P1010365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qktwb_g4sCA/TyuFQXWBF7I/AAAAAAAABjw/n3rC0StokAg/s320/P1010365.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Step Two: Eat Pizza. Mighty fine it was, too. I ordered a nicoise, thinking it would be ‘light’. Boy, was I wrong. The dish it came in was a family serving bowl. </span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B5MKtI-tUKg/TyuFZpWn3ZI/AAAAAAAABj4/9CWKjrdNq58/s1600/P1010367.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B5MKtI-tUKg/TyuFZpWn3ZI/AAAAAAAABj4/9CWKjrdNq58/s320/P1010367.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Step Three: take the child to the gym and put her on the treadmill. She absolutely loved it: I had to pull her off the machines with some insistence before she did herself an injury, right after a large pizza. </span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IGc6QNMfovs/TyuFjwxldkI/AAAAAAAABkA/mj9FiZ55wtE/s1600/P1010373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IGc6QNMfovs/TyuFjwxldkI/AAAAAAAABkA/mj9FiZ55wtE/s320/P1010373.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On the cross-trainer... </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XKUEPmc_td8/TyuFvDzc0gI/AAAAAAAABkI/Vd1QKEdzr8o/s1600/P1010378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XKUEPmc_td8/TyuFvDzc0gI/AAAAAAAABkI/Vd1QKEdzr8o/s320/P1010378.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">... and later, in our very comfy bed, tucked in with Berkshire and Marvin. Unfortunately I slept very little, despite the fluffy pillows and warm duvet - which wasn't the best way to start (or re-start) a trip of considerable duration. Lara did much better, luckily. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d6jeZn1frKg/TyuF40Qoh1I/AAAAAAAABkQ/owJGIV6ztv4/s1600/P1010382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d6jeZn1frKg/TyuF40Qoh1I/AAAAAAAABkQ/owJGIV6ztv4/s320/P1010382.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pleased! For some reason she was dead keen on riding on the mini-bus that took us to the airport. What a smirk. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-25aeXx3nDc8/TyuGAwDrGUI/AAAAAAAABkY/DgfqRPYjMsU/s1600/P1010384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-25aeXx3nDc8/TyuGAwDrGUI/AAAAAAAABkY/DgfqRPYjMsU/s320/P1010384.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Displeased! Turkish Airlines kept us waiting for hours again in the morning because they still hadn't found us the replacement flights. We hung around for at least two hours, probably more. At last, it came through - and we were at the gate at this point but Lara had simply had enough. And the trip hadn't even started, technically. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BRplf9sfqdA/TyuGKKlds4I/AAAAAAAABkg/OtivC_PGFBc/s1600/P1010385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BRplf9sfqdA/TyuGKKlds4I/AAAAAAAABkg/OtivC_PGFBc/s320/P1010385.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I don't know what had happened. Must have been shocking. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N0WOGpzqFp0/TyuGUYGwEaI/AAAAAAAABko/yi-N5BHMQjA/s1600/P1010386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N0WOGpzqFp0/TyuGUYGwEaI/AAAAAAAABko/yi-N5BHMQjA/s320/P1010386.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finally, starting out from Venice. Little Grey Riding Wolf is delighted, and Lara's eating shark jellies. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a1CUJpecNyM/TyuGe8V6v6I/AAAAAAAABkw/dxEHErQrF9I/s1600/P1010389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a1CUJpecNyM/TyuGe8V6v6I/AAAAAAAABkw/dxEHErQrF9I/s320/P1010389.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Flying over Serbia, just south of Belgrade, and waving to Aunti Pie (off-screen). Jolly snowy down there. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6_Pb-82Usd0/TyuGwEczKMI/AAAAAAAABlA/n5-EHI6N1eo/s1600/P1010390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6_Pb-82Usd0/TyuGwEczKMI/AAAAAAAABlA/n5-EHI6N1eo/s320/P1010390.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Istanbul airport. This is why all the flights were in such trouble. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oYzhh58PN2Y/TyuG1EMLYiI/AAAAAAAABlI/q8bRliXMquo/s1600/P1010398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oYzhh58PN2Y/TyuG1EMLYiI/AAAAAAAABlI/q8bRliXMquo/s320/P1010398.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The delights of cacti. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzERlTzz99o/TyuG64pWnaI/AAAAAAAABlQ/nAprVWvEpBA/s1600/P1010403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzERlTzz99o/TyuG64pWnaI/AAAAAAAABlQ/nAprVWvEpBA/s320/P1010403.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">After our rescheduling, it turned out that we had over 10 hours in Istanbul. Initially this seemed like a bit of a bind, but turns out they let you out and about in Turkey quite easily, as long as you buy a visa for 15 euros apiece. So we did, and hit the town. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Here’s Lara on the tram. Again, something must have been exceedingly surprising.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QOPdSlbA4Mw/TyuG_SraVoI/AAAAAAAABlY/lU7rRGHkAcQ/s1600/P1010405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QOPdSlbA4Mw/TyuG_SraVoI/AAAAAAAABlY/lU7rRGHkAcQ/s320/P1010405.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">All the mosques were called 'Puppungs'. 'Ohh, it's another Puppung!' It's Lara's appelation but frankly I don't think I'd do any better. I have no idea which one this was, except that it was along the tram-line in from the airport. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KBySQENHE-A/TyuHLbi4p-I/AAAAAAAABlg/xxHlI1m1-kU/s1600/P1010408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KBySQENHE-A/TyuHLbi4p-I/AAAAAAAABlg/xxHlI1m1-kU/s320/P1010408.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5ZwG-gysktw/TyuHTxIoU_I/AAAAAAAABlo/-uovf0IU4ms/s1600/P1010412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5ZwG-gysktw/TyuHTxIoU_I/AAAAAAAABlo/-uovf0IU4ms/s320/P1010412.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lara going mad in the snow</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k8XrF5kze6Y/TyuHdz1qjuI/AAAAAAAABlw/8UmEPgzGj_Y/s1600/P1010414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k8XrF5kze6Y/TyuHdz1qjuI/AAAAAAAABlw/8UmEPgzGj_Y/s320/P1010414.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sultanahmet. You wouldn't <em>believe</em> how slippery polished marble is in the snow. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jMuzG1nL108/TyuHnSQTmnI/AAAAAAAABl4/Z1Zi0C0pWOs/s1600/P1010418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jMuzG1nL108/TyuHnSQTmnI/AAAAAAAABl4/Z1Zi0C0pWOs/s320/P1010418.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Inside Sultanahmet. We only just made it: got a quick peek before they chucked us out for prayers. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-utLcZvgTQBU/TyuHyeqxe6I/AAAAAAAABmA/FoX2wF84KI0/s1600/P1010421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-utLcZvgTQBU/TyuHyeqxe6I/AAAAAAAABmA/FoX2wF84KI0/s320/P1010421.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ePZPRMlOK5Y/TyuH8AIBe7I/AAAAAAAABmI/R5q7LqA3FDA/s1600/P1010425.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ePZPRMlOK5Y/TyuH8AIBe7I/AAAAAAAABmI/R5q7LqA3FDA/s320/P1010425.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Barely got to take this one as was busy being accosted by the first of many little men trying to sell me carpets. I guess they could have had no idea what a dead loss I am on that front. For some reason the offer of 'carpets' always seems to come together with 'tea', which sounds both oddly British and puzzlingly insidious, a bit like 'come up for a coffee.' </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fKVNnuCxm80/TyuIIjYvg_I/AAAAAAAABmQ/SimuZBGamGo/s1600/P1010427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fKVNnuCxm80/TyuIIjYvg_I/AAAAAAAABmQ/SimuZBGamGo/s320/P1010427.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Talking of 'little', I noticed (with some surprise) how very short everyone seems to be in Istanbul. The trams were crowded as a tin of pilchards, but I had an almost uninterrupted line of sight way above the heads of most people. Even Lara came up to practically chest-height for the average Turkish person. Suddenly felt as if I had been afflicted by gigantism. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eZykKuesZPg/TyuISo7nKiI/AAAAAAAABmY/F26t3XPU2tI/s1600/P1010429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eZykKuesZPg/TyuISo7nKiI/AAAAAAAABmY/F26t3XPU2tI/s320/P1010429.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0ATTOGU_GCY/TyuIb4dGFVI/AAAAAAAABmg/_Yw-nuP71iw/s1600/P1010430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0ATTOGU_GCY/TyuIb4dGFVI/AAAAAAAABmg/_Yw-nuP71iw/s320/P1010430.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hagia Sofia... at last! But alas, closed! We missed the opening time... had the flight not been late, we would have seen it. It closes at 4 in the winter, and this was about 4:30. Oh well, perhaps in another 20 years I'll get to go back. I've wanted to see the inside for so long. Well, here's the outside, at least - and surely it must be rare to see it under quite so much snow. That counts, doesn't it? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CsYRrXle8fY/TyuInbtLHnI/AAAAAAAABmo/5sdKy57J608/s1600/P1010431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CsYRrXle8fY/TyuInbtLHnI/AAAAAAAABmo/5sdKy57J608/s320/P1010431.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lovely even from the outside, through a blizzard.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-opJbwW4Es4A/TyuIy2ofiuI/AAAAAAAABmw/v0K45tEQI6I/s1600/P1010433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-opJbwW4Es4A/TyuIy2ofiuI/AAAAAAAABmw/v0K45tEQI6I/s320/P1010433.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was surprised when the tourist information guy at the airport said I should go and see the cisterns, but reckoned it was too strange a thing to make up so we nipped in. Boy, I see what he was talking about. 'Course, he didn't mention they were built by Constantine and then Justinian. Going to see 'a cistern' just doesn't sound ... impressive.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W88jCvelMuk/TyuI83_SbiI/AAAAAAAABm4/tcRBquDZBB8/s1600/P1010437.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W88jCvelMuk/TyuI83_SbiI/AAAAAAAABm4/tcRBquDZBB8/s320/P1010437.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Strange upside-down Medusa. No-one knows what the hell is going on here, it seems. There are two of these, this one upside down and the other on its side. I reckon they were 'avin' a larf. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ekIw1yQVxsI/TyuJG6z8_vI/AAAAAAAABnA/2t2YZSJkuMk/s1600/P1010447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ekIw1yQVxsI/TyuJG6z8_vI/AAAAAAAABnA/2t2YZSJkuMk/s320/P1010447.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There are copious amounts of fish down there. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ibOQ37MASvw/TyuJQe3b2AI/AAAAAAAABnI/qI44SSOMrb8/s1600/P1010451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ibOQ37MASvw/TyuJQe3b2AI/AAAAAAAABnI/qI44SSOMrb8/s320/P1010451.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pCEO606d_Uk/TyuJZYAvy4I/AAAAAAAABnQ/6h1E0FPukRw/s1600/P1010454.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pCEO606d_Uk/TyuJZYAvy4I/AAAAAAAABnQ/6h1E0FPukRw/s320/P1010454.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Was snowing even more heavily when we got out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UBD-EcE1bt4/TyuJi_OFarI/AAAAAAAABnY/iDUQZC_U1Gg/s1600/P1010456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UBD-EcE1bt4/TyuJi_OFarI/AAAAAAAABnY/iDUQZC_U1Gg/s320/P1010456.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">At the covered bazzar. 64 streets and about 3,000 shops. no wonder we got ever-so-slightly lost in there. Endless entertainment and browsing. Lara chose a toy camel for her keepsake: named him Humph. You'll see him later.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Et2mI6kjXo/TyuJvADFj2I/AAAAAAAABng/93LTJl5eMts/s1600/P1010458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Et2mI6kjXo/TyuJvADFj2I/AAAAAAAABng/93LTJl5eMts/s320/P1010458.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4X1rvsRsamw/TyuJ3q_ZN7I/AAAAAAAABno/PgvoS4s-A4g/s1600/P1010465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4X1rvsRsamw/TyuJ3q_ZN7I/AAAAAAAABno/PgvoS4s-A4g/s320/P1010465.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No idea why she looks so guilty. She was actually being quite good. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FrUeQcruqy4/TyuKBO3FcuI/AAAAAAAABnw/_WjXg-53W-E/s1600/P1010464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FrUeQcruqy4/TyuKBO3FcuI/AAAAAAAABnw/_WjXg-53W-E/s320/P1010464.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fCaTnWvYqeI/TyuKKDwgICI/AAAAAAAABn4/YQ-p5zb3JTs/s1600/P1010467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fCaTnWvYqeI/TyuKKDwgICI/AAAAAAAABn4/YQ-p5zb3JTs/s320/P1010467.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Pomegranates in the snow, looking like delicately frosted monkey brains. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oBmoQhrcaKQ/TyuKTI6ibnI/AAAAAAAABoA/7KcDEDNh4_o/s1600/P1010470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oBmoQhrcaKQ/TyuKTI6ibnI/AAAAAAAABoA/7KcDEDNh4_o/s320/P1010470.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">By about 7 p.m. it was well and truly dark and exceeding cold, so we were glad to get back to the airport. What a fortuitous cancellation, though: without it, we wouldn't have got to see any of all that. Guess what Lara had at the airport for dinner? Yup, pizza. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ax2uDIL1I8Y/TyuK1kzp3KI/AAAAAAAABoI/-oeVLKMblHI/s1600/P1010472.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ax2uDIL1I8Y/TyuK1kzp3KI/AAAAAAAABoI/-oeVLKMblHI/s320/P1010472.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We bought some Turkish Delight from the market - delicious! Also some stunning concoction of pistachios crowded indecently into a near-solid jelly mass of pomegranate juice and sugar. Oh, yum. OH, yes. 'I'll have what she's having.' Here's Lara peering into the sweetie bag and deciding which one she'll have. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t-eVgK7rHyY/TyuLONpcYfI/AAAAAAAABoQ/CUE6uVedEdQ/s1600/P1010473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t-eVgK7rHyY/TyuLONpcYfI/AAAAAAAABoQ/CUE6uVedEdQ/s320/P1010473.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ah, Humph. Isn't he hadsome. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FcVgRrvz8Po/TyuLXd-l4SI/AAAAAAAABoY/5Lq_G24zoAQ/s1600/P1010479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FcVgRrvz8Po/TyuLXd-l4SI/AAAAAAAABoY/5Lq_G24zoAQ/s320/P1010479.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UAF7LS91Qcs/TyuLcHeAT8I/AAAAAAAABog/QnDtu2-jPY8/s1600/P1010483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UAF7LS91Qcs/TyuLcHeAT8I/AAAAAAAABog/QnDtu2-jPY8/s320/P1010483.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Istanbul airport... again. Even snowier. We waited for about two hours on the runway, but eventually took off after de-icing. Mind you, it meant that we had almost no wait at the next stop, and besides, Lara slept through it all so it didn't reall matter. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I9LIbLkuaMA/TyuLnbccAmI/AAAAAAAABoo/wPqVaZlLtyY/s1600/P1010504.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I9LIbLkuaMA/TyuLnbccAmI/AAAAAAAABoo/wPqVaZlLtyY/s320/P1010504.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Can't remember what it was but something was hilarious. In the bus to the plane. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4a9fKusMw1c/TyuLy54jPXI/AAAAAAAABow/BZI5YpeKlKQ/s1600/P1010505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4a9fKusMw1c/TyuLy54jPXI/AAAAAAAABow/BZI5YpeKlKQ/s320/P1010505.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Jaws eating Lara's breakfast scrambled eggs. This is towards the end of the 12-hour flight from Istanbul to Singapore.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QDO_o3yP80E/TyuL8ybXRII/AAAAAAAABo4/1jru9bGOAPI/s1600/P1010506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QDO_o3yP80E/TyuL8ybXRII/AAAAAAAABo4/1jru9bGOAPI/s320/P1010506.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">'OMG that shark, how could he, he left no eggs for me!' </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aWsT6HAPBxI/TyuMCjf2HYI/AAAAAAAABpA/NFS48L_m-WY/s1600/P1010522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aWsT6HAPBxI/TyuMCjf2HYI/AAAAAAAABpA/NFS48L_m-WY/s320/P1010522.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Coming in to Singapore</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FdcG-Z-x6s4/TyuMKe9HUnI/AAAAAAAABpI/XxBs9PkGrpg/s1600/P1010530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FdcG-Z-x6s4/TyuMKe9HUnI/AAAAAAAABpI/XxBs9PkGrpg/s320/P1010530.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">A bit of a merry chase ensued, around Singapore Changi airport. Where to get the boarding passes from? They hadn’t been able to print them out initially, and people kept sending me to different counters and there was either no-one thre or they redirected me… In the end they got printed and we finally found out that it wasn’t Lufthansa (as on the ticket they’d printed out at Marco Polo) but Singapore Airlines. Huh! First thought: what a ****ing HUGE plane! Never been on one of those things before. One of the airbuses with a top floor that’s bigger than most jumbo jets. It was great, much better than Qantas. The staff never seemed to stop floating round, handing out endless drinks, checking everyone was OK, giving meals to children specially early so that they could be sure to choose what dish they liked best, and possibly get a head start on their sleep… marvellous. Love the uniforms, too – the girls’ ones, that is. The men got a bit left out on the glamour factor there. There was more legroom than any Economy flight I can remember this side of puberty (economy flight? How redundant is that, what other flight do I ever take?) and the food was frankly delicious. Whatever the ‘dragon salad’ (to celebrate the Year of the Dragon) was, boy, they can make more of that any day, far as I’m concerned. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Still, it was a jolly long flight, and we were already tired. Lara had slept almost all the way on the 12-hour one, but this leg was less of a success somnolence-wise. We were ready to get off by the time we landed. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Here's Lara with her kiddy freebie, Kung-Fu Panda, the hand puppet. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EYPznXM9NhU/TyuMRdeD6SI/AAAAAAAABpQ/R-xA3KymGYg/s1600/P1010532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EYPznXM9NhU/TyuMRdeD6SI/AAAAAAAABpQ/R-xA3KymGYg/s320/P1010532.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The queue at customs in Sydney was, of course, interminable. Ok, well 45 minutes long, to be precise. Packed like the bottom of a wine-press at harvest time. After some confusion at the baggage carousel, I found out that not only had we missed the luggage coming out (we were so long in the queue they’d been and gone) but our cases had never even arrived. So we got a reference number and trotted off to the trains. Again, fortuitous. I’d been dreading the thought of lugging those things through Sydney, and hey presto I didn’t have to. Someone’s going to deliver them to our door tomorrow afternoon instead. How much more civilised it that? I guess they still hadn’t found the third case when I last spoke to them but I’m sure they will. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">By this time we were both well and truly whacked. I had to spend a good five minutes waking Lara up to get off the train at Broadmeadow. She was an absolute zombie. A quick taxi ride and… home! Bliss. Ian had bought us milk, bread, biscuits and currant buns, so we could have tea and buns immediately. Only we didn’t quite… first of all I ran a huge bath and we washed and scrubbed until the grime of the last couple of days was quite gone. Then we had tea and buns. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Lara watched telly while I unpacked our hand luggage and went around opening all the windows (it’s still terribly musty even now). I came back to find her slumped and asleep. Woke her up, the which she took with remarkably good grace. Here she is, woken but still slumped. As she put it, ‘I think I can’t walk any more. I’m walkless.’ </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Dy1gJyVOE/TyuMaBzK52I/AAAAAAAABpY/2cx40lTBHNs/s1600/P1010536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h_Dy1gJyVOE/TyuMaBzK52I/AAAAAAAABpY/2cx40lTBHNs/s320/P1010536.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Ian came round at about 5:30 or so, and stayed playing and being updated on the latest for a couple of hours. In the end Lara went to bed at gone 8, which is incredible, considering. Seems there was no jet lag at all. I thought I’d fall into bed immediately she went, too – but no, got caught up in doing ‘stuff’ and didn’t retire until midnight. Woke up again at 6 and seem none the worse for it… not sure what’s going on. I wonder what was in that dragon salad. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-20563862770783164502012-01-30T00:20:00.001+11:002012-02-03T17:52:24.181+11:00January 21st 2012 - Back in Venice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8JC7vGJXG_s/TyTpep-2EdI/AAAAAAAABeg/8X4CIXmOaLM/s1600/P1000772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8JC7vGJXG_s/TyTpep-2EdI/AAAAAAAABeg/8X4CIXmOaLM/s320/P1000772.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Finally! A ride on a gondola! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Yes, it's a gondola. Perhaps not the 'proper' tourist ones, but still the form, method of propulsion and everything else is the same. They're on the little Tragetto that takes one from one side of the canal to the other at 50 cents a pop. Lara was delighted. The gondoleer appeared to be quietly amused, too. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8JC7vGJXG_s/TyTpep-2EdI/AAAAAAAABeg/8X4CIXmOaLM/s1600/P1000772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k_bk_H2lIbo/TyTp1C_R35I/AAAAAAAABeo/cNz5CJORQyw/s1600/P1000752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k_bk_H2lIbo/TyTp1C_R35I/AAAAAAAABeo/cNz5CJORQyw/s320/P1000752.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">Furthermore, guess how many gondolas she spotted on THIS excursion to Venice? Let's put it into perspective. We looked it up, and there are about 400-odd gondolas registered and working in Venice. Lara spotted 204. She is truly obsessed. We spent most of the time indoors, how she managed to cover so much ground is a mystery. In acknowledgement, I (voluntarily, mind you) bought her the tackiest tourist piece of **** you've clapped eyes on in a long time, to her intense delight. A plastic gondola, brightly painted, that rocks back and forth to solar power. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The difference between the Tragetto and the 'regular' barks did not go unnoticed. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">"The gondola we went in didn't have red cushions." </div><div class="MsoNormal">"No, that's right. Ours was just a little ride." </div><div class="MsoNormal">"Do the ones with the red cushions go on long rides?" </div><div class="MsoNormal">"Yes, they generally go much further." </div><div class="MsoNormal">"Will we go on a gondola with red cushions?" </div><div class="MsoNormal">"When you're bigger and have an Italian lover, he can take you on a gondola with red cushions." </div><div class="MsoNormal">"A what?" </div><div class="MsoNormal">"You can have a boyfriend who'll take you on a gondola ride." </div><div class="MsoNormal">(Lara Thinks) </div><div class="MsoNormal">"Whaley, when I'm bigger I can have a ride in a gondola with red cushions with an Italian boyfriend, and go for a loooong ride."</div><div class="MsoNormal">(Mother Hesitates) </div><div class="MsoNormal">"You know, strictly speaking, you don't <i>have </i>to have an Italian boyfriend to take a ride in a gondola. It was a little bit of a joke." </div><div class="MsoNormal">"Oh. " (Pause) "It will be a long ride, though?" </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">... Sorry, bit of a digression. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SQ3PNbsYCY4/TyTqOgq5BSI/AAAAAAAABew/xytroaF7_lc/s1600/P1000763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SQ3PNbsYCY4/TyTqOgq5BSI/AAAAAAAABew/xytroaF7_lc/s320/P1000763.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">We actually spent most of the time indoors, this time. The main object of the visit was the Academia. Have to say, the Littles did remarkably well. We were in there for about three hours, and she was looking at the paintings pretty much throughout - and I mean really <i>looking</i>. Mind you, it is a fantastic place, pf course. If you're going to learn about painters, it's not a bad venue to start. She got very good at spotting the following people: </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><ul style="margin-top: 0cm;" type="disc"><li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;">John the Baptist (or John the Bactrian, as she kept calling him - probably on account of his habitual dishevelled appearance)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- Dude with the long hair, hairy clothes, and quite often a sheep. </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;">St Peter - Old dude with the keys </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;">St Paul - Old dude with a sword and book </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;">St Jerome - skinny old dude usually writing something, with a sorry-looking lion curled up at his feet </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;">(Of course) Mary and Jesus. Either 'baby' Jesus or it's going to be on the cross, or off the cross. As she put it, 'why are there so many pictures of Jesus on the cross?' Well, one does wonder. I tried to explain that they reckoned it was an important part of the story, so they kept painting it. Couldn't help thinking she would rather they had done a few more pictures of gondolas, instead. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;">'Annunciation' (still having trouble remembering that word, usually does get as far as the 'An' ) Dopey-looking lady, big angel, lily, pigeon. </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;">St George - Dude in armour, usually with something that doesn't look remotely like a dragon. </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt;">And rather surprisingly, God. There were a number of Gods either in the paintings and even one stuck on the ceiling. She didn't mind the Gods but thought the inevitable putti and cherubs circling about like overfed maggots were really not necessary at all... and I have to say I agree. The ones with just the heads stuck onto wings are the worst. </li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J6mp6WvLfh4/TyTqlzWIkuI/AAAAAAAABe4/f5amvxKt9GM/s1600/P1000771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J6mp6WvLfh4/TyTqlzWIkuI/AAAAAAAABe4/f5amvxKt9GM/s320/P1000771.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">There was an vast amount of Lorenzo Lotto, whom she got quite familiar with. He ended up being called 'the Piggy guy' because the first painting she say by him was a small picture of two exceedingly ugly women, which she expressed a violent dislike to. However, he improved considerably upon acquaintance and she was not averse to a good number of other of his other pieces. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-phFWfXWoMlc/TyTrAppJ0WI/AAAAAAAABfA/0kdhpd3Jr7o/s1600/P1000777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-phFWfXWoMlc/TyTrAppJ0WI/AAAAAAAABfA/0kdhpd3Jr7o/s320/P1000777.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">There was also a huge amount of Tintoretto. He was reasonably approved of for several reasons. The first painting she saw by him had LOADS of animals and I think was called something like God Creating the Animals. Secondly, his predilection for positioning people at odd angles and shooting them in from the corners of the canvass made for interesting spectating. There was a hell of a lot of St Mark about the place. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">... Just realised you probably don't want to hear quite so much about a six-year-old's views on the Academia. Anyway, we had a jolly good time. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"> Counting gondolas from the ferry </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lbzZ9bB-OCg/TyTrYAdiFiI/AAAAAAAABfI/RWS-ycpkxyE/s1600/P1000778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lbzZ9bB-OCg/TyTrYAdiFiI/AAAAAAAABfI/RWS-ycpkxyE/s320/P1000778.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Bridge of sighs</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eKKJKPXvoDw/TyTryBI9v9I/AAAAAAAABfQ/bpWNk4meIUQ/s1600/P1000780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eKKJKPXvoDw/TyTryBI9v9I/AAAAAAAABfQ/bpWNk4meIUQ/s320/P1000780.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZsndY8V2P58/TyTsMEX7C_I/AAAAAAAABfY/HkE-tfzfsJg/s1600/P1000782.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZsndY8V2P58/TyTsMEX7C_I/AAAAAAAABfY/HkE-tfzfsJg/s320/P1000782.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yF-3yjnTPAM/TyTsj5fHKfI/AAAAAAAABfg/pKRK6WDRBAw/s1600/P1000785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yF-3yjnTPAM/TyTsj5fHKfI/AAAAAAAABfg/pKRK6WDRBAw/s320/P1000785.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TGdVMZmD2-c/TyTs79lHRLI/AAAAAAAABfo/WOGPk8um7-s/s1600/P1000791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TGdVMZmD2-c/TyTs79lHRLI/AAAAAAAABfo/WOGPk8um7-s/s320/P1000791.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Girl Pigeon, and Tower. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nrIYzmPeiLE/TyTtVAKxFYI/AAAAAAAABfw/lyUEbpWCZCQ/s1600/P1000808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nrIYzmPeiLE/TyTtVAKxFYI/AAAAAAAABfw/lyUEbpWCZCQ/s320/P1000808.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
At about this point Lara was deemed a tourist attraction and a random Chinese guy insisted on having his picture taken with her.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DSFN4HBdzPY/TyTtrUdPCnI/AAAAAAAABf4/XorJaPXZ4X0/s1600/P1000812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DSFN4HBdzPY/TyTtrUdPCnI/AAAAAAAABf4/XorJaPXZ4X0/s320/P1000812.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YNGoy5ug-ro/TyVEceSVjMI/AAAAAAAABjQ/13_NnbCb5eo/s1600/P1000755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YNGoy5ug-ro/TyVEceSVjMI/AAAAAAAABjQ/13_NnbCb5eo/s320/P1000755.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Whale found a great pizza take-out for lunch. Added excitement when pigeons joined in. Afterwards there was even hot chocolate and brioche. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LT0ualrM2X4/TyVEz4P4LBI/AAAAAAAABjY/PGsSydeH-B0/s1600/P1000759.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LT0ualrM2X4/TyVEz4P4LBI/AAAAAAAABjY/PGsSydeH-B0/s320/P1000759.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Just a passing sign I though was rather amusing. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yhU3X7dLo74/TyVFJxo8m7I/AAAAAAAABjg/OXvGdLs84Nk/s1600/P1000761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yhU3X7dLo74/TyVFJxo8m7I/AAAAAAAABjg/OXvGdLs84Nk/s320/P1000761.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zFuUhaj0csc/TyTuC9O6hZI/AAAAAAAABgA/yvZhzSYZn-c/s1600/P1000830.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zFuUhaj0csc/TyTuC9O6hZI/AAAAAAAABgA/yvZhzSYZn-c/s320/P1000830.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Whale and Lara on the way home in the train. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hcBXTer8_VI/TyTuZEJ33iI/AAAAAAAABgI/mvefjvlUwYY/s1600/P1000834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hcBXTer8_VI/TyTuZEJ33iI/AAAAAAAABgI/mvefjvlUwYY/s320/P1000834.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f0fm3RNKy1g/TyTuvHuesDI/AAAAAAAABgQ/T79TLcFD0m0/s1600/P1000832.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f0fm3RNKy1g/TyTuvHuesDI/AAAAAAAABgQ/T79TLcFD0m0/s320/P1000832.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-76177217536727045942012-01-29T19:48:00.000+11:002012-01-29T19:48:37.340+11:0028th January 2012 - Sharks and Confetti<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Am_Ea-GbwAw/TyT2Ko-ljKI/AAAAAAAABgY/ATxWen76lQ4/s1600/P1010194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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</style> <![endif]--> </a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Yesterday, there was MORE hot chocolate and spritz in the square. This edition of the chocolate was quite the custardy-est to date, and it was entirely appropriate to eat it with a spoon. Neither was the degree of chocolate-encrusted-ness at all surprising afterwards. A table napkin simply wouldn't do the trick. She had to be taken to the bathroom and hosed down afterwards. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Am_Ea-GbwAw/TyT2Ko-ljKI/AAAAAAAABgY/ATxWen76lQ4/s1600/P1010194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Am_Ea-GbwAw/TyT2Ko-ljKI/AAAAAAAABgY/ATxWen76lQ4/s320/P1010194.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">There was MORE riding on horses. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was was an adventure with goblin shark (of course) where goblin shark had lost his ball in a magical storm and Lara and the horse had to go and find it. They did so on the top of the castle that goblin shark lived in, and along with it they found a nice troll, who played ball with them. Then they all went back to the carousel. The end. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JriJW-rK5VI/TyT2kRxo9DI/AAAAAAAABgg/Hb5TyFojdTM/s1600/P1010180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JriJW-rK5VI/TyT2kRxo9DI/AAAAAAAABgg/Hb5TyFojdTM/s320/P1010180.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">Carnival is ever-closer (unfortunately we'll just miss it, I've wanted to see the Venice carnival for decades) and confetti littered Piazza del Signori. Lara streamed her 'kite' all the way home. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2TxA6hsKY_c/TyT29AX7n0I/AAAAAAAABgo/BuFVaIhQwyE/s1600/P1010201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2TxA6hsKY_c/TyT29AX7n0I/AAAAAAAABgo/BuFVaIhQwyE/s320/P1010201.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KKPGdJeMDTU/TyT3VfBRUAI/AAAAAAAABgw/cXk_5cw57hI/s1600/P1010198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KKPGdJeMDTU/TyT3VfBRUAI/AAAAAAAABgw/cXk_5cw57hI/s320/P1010198.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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</style> <![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB;">Apologies for the colour setting on this day's pics, by the way. I'd set the exposure right down to minimum for the glaring snow of the mountains, and hadn't changed it. It was actually a beautiful bright day, not overcast as it seems</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"> </span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UO9Sh3JUZeU/TyT3rwLZNXI/AAAAAAAABg4/XhCdSoyqSpQ/s1600/P1010212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UO9Sh3JUZeU/TyT3rwLZNXI/AAAAAAAABg4/XhCdSoyqSpQ/s320/P1010212.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YpEaaeNtARE/TyT4HE218OI/AAAAAAAABhA/np3wFInpT7o/s1600/P1010213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YpEaaeNtARE/TyT4HE218OI/AAAAAAAABhA/np3wFInpT7o/s320/P1010213.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T6aZw0FF-9c/TyT4fFP73CI/AAAAAAAABhI/72SLmaLhBcU/s1600/P1010214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T6aZw0FF-9c/TyT4fFP73CI/AAAAAAAABhI/72SLmaLhBcU/s320/P1010214.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">Kite races along the walls</div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">Campari does terrible things to knees. We stopped off at the playground on the way back, and somehow I found myself chasing the Littles round and up and through the equipment, to hysterical shrieks. Crawling through wooden apparatus designed for 10 year olds, in dress and tights at the age of 40 means you come away with dusty knees and a slight hint of bruising. </div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">After a stupendous lunch, with more cheeses than I can remember to count, salami so delicate and tender it was almost like carpacio, and copious salad, Lara had a shark party. As usual, she invented lots of shark games. At one point we had to close our eyes while she hid stuff in a pile of toys, and the Whale took it rather too seriously. Getting very close to his afternoon snooze time. </div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">At the end of the party we had to throw the toys in the air and shout 'Hurrah!'. So we did. </div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">After the shark party, the Whale went to bed and the rest of us went to the playground and to buy more shark jellies respectively. Did I tell you about the shark jellies? I think I did. What a coup. We've not got more than enough to last us until customs in Australia. I wonder if we'll end up declaring them again - last time it was jelly babies. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ah, now here we have something quite extrodinary. We stopped by at the Mino's after the park. One of the things she happened to talk about was her porcelain collection. This is a cup dating from about the late 1800's, which belonged to her grandmother, I think she said. See the thing across the top of the cup? Guess what it's there for. Go on, guess. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-llo7ukBsXHs/TyT6R9Bt8wI/AAAAAAAABhw/-DBFS_D8fec/s1600/P1010229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-llo7ukBsXHs/TyT6R9Bt8wI/AAAAAAAABhw/-DBFS_D8fec/s320/P1010229.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">It's for MOUSTACHES. To keep them out of the tea. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Told you, Late 1800s. Fantastic. </div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oujhouN7MRs/TyT7TLNVmRI/AAAAAAAABiI/8kqYLlre69E/s1600/P1010234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oujhouN7MRs/TyT7TLNVmRI/AAAAAAAABiI/8kqYLlre69E/s320/P1010234.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">In the evening, it was the Markets restaurant. MMM. Gosh, it was good. Lara had swordfish. Here she is, being a swordfish. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DD8gvirhqGE/TyT8VAmbGEI/AAAAAAAABig/PxlPfxTC3YA/s1600/P1010263.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DD8gvirhqGE/TyT8VAmbGEI/AAAAAAAABig/PxlPfxTC3YA/s320/P1010263.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I had snails - fantastic. (Lara did try them but didn't like it. Still, kudos for trying.) How I'm managing to stuff so much in is a mystery. In the words of Scooby Doo, 'stop, stop, when the buttons pop.' They also served the best Zucotto I can remember tasting. Another nice touch was that they had a huge array of cooked vegetables laid out in one corner, and you just helped yourself to what you wanted. Things like roasted peppers and aubergines and baked leeks and radiccio.... Did I mention we enjoyed ourselves? </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQBG7bUXiow/TyT8sriN7_I/AAAAAAAABio/5R7NpXt5e0k/s1600/P1010267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQBG7bUXiow/TyT8sriN7_I/AAAAAAAABio/5R7NpXt5e0k/s320/P1010267.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">Jaws was getting up to all sorts of naughtiness at table.... </div><br />
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eating the last castagnolo... typical shark..<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y9-wsx0uNRY/TyT9XPo70LI/AAAAAAAABi4/QFM38bJVg5c/s1600/P1010275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y9-wsx0uNRY/TyT9XPo70LI/AAAAAAAABi4/QFM38bJVg5c/s320/P1010275.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
swimming in the deep <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4l6NG3R_KJE/TyT9tnOymoI/AAAAAAAABjA/P8aiK5AYhgM/s1600/P1010277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4l6NG3R_KJE/TyT9tnOymoI/AAAAAAAABjA/P8aiK5AYhgM/s320/P1010277.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
W&W with the owner - they're regulars here, of course.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zc1uBW7gieM/TyT-EYKbeYI/AAAAAAAABjI/v_VI1OT1cuQ/s1600/P1010282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zc1uBW7gieM/TyT-EYKbeYI/AAAAAAAABjI/v_VI1OT1cuQ/s320/P1010282.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Absolutely marvellous. Lara went to bed at 10:30, which has to be a record. Have you noticed her front tooth is finally coming out? Hope it fills up that gap relatively soon, she could really use some more gnashers.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-85821946102682726112012-01-29T17:33:00.000+11:002012-01-29T17:33:53.365+11:00January 22nd 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Pm1_x7dyic/TyTk0284ecI/AAAAAAAABd4/ukZik-0TARw/s1600/P1000851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Pm1_x7dyic/TyTk0284ecI/AAAAAAAABd4/ukZik-0TARw/s320/P1000851.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">We've been engaging in collage activity on a moderate to heavy scale. What are ALL the collages about? Yep, you guessed. Sharks, sea creatures, deep sea animals. The one they're engaged in here is a deep-sea collage. We were also busy planning Lara's party on the 12th... Thinking up shark games, finding suitable music, etc. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RGxEAor-rhE/TyTlP_4yHWI/AAAAAAAABeA/xwJKbWhlMeI/s1600/P1000852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RGxEAor-rhE/TyTlP_4yHWI/AAAAAAAABeA/xwJKbWhlMeI/s320/P1000852.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">22nd must have been a relatively quiet day... you'll see why when you see the post from the 21st. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'd imagine it involved quite a lot of playground, card games, drawing and cutting, helicopter flying, campari spritz, and rolling about. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bnwEp8PPivk/TyTlllXd1BI/AAAAAAAABeI/8NPl3jg42vg/s1600/P1000853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bnwEp8PPivk/TyTlllXd1BI/AAAAAAAABeI/8NPl3jg42vg/s320/P1000853.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</style> <![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">In the evening, I went out with Alessandra, Gianmarco and Iole. Simply lovely. Chat, eat, chat, drink. Took camera but forgot all about it until we got back home, so this photo's from just outside the flats. They're all so fantastic. It's been wonderful to see them again and catch up. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NdUu_bfBqsw/TyTmSa8p-lI/AAAAAAAABeY/2xsvLzVgRQk/s1600/P1000858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NdUu_bfBqsw/TyTmSa8p-lI/AAAAAAAABeY/2xsvLzVgRQk/s320/P1000858.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-20800059177091147482012-01-29T17:05:00.000+11:002012-01-29T17:05:56.951+11:00January 23rd 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ehIy33d2wIs/TyQ3rtlc0uI/AAAAAAAABb4/O0-m7aHCOQ8/s1600/P1000880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ehIy33d2wIs/TyQ3rtlc0uI/AAAAAAAABb4/O0-m7aHCOQ8/s320/P1000880.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">On the 23rd, we went to Castelfranco. About 40 minutes' drive from Treviso. We arrived armed with stale bread for ducks: Castelfranco on a Monday morning needs ducks to spice it up. Initially the ones we found were disappointingly replete and spurned our offerings, but eventually we found four that were satisfyingly hungry. Lara named them 'Near He and Near She, and Far He and Far She' as there were two pairs, duck and drake each, one swimming closer to the bank than the other pair. She found the names incredibly amusing and yelled them out each time whichever one of them it was got a bit of bread. Ah, the joys of being six. Well actually it was quite amusing to see even if you were forty. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uOrAEHmj6Hk/TyQ46nvxatI/AAAAAAAABcA/fFpQU8IRcAk/s1600/P1000875.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uOrAEHmj6Hk/TyQ46nvxatI/AAAAAAAABcA/fFpQU8IRcAk/s320/P1000875.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">Here's Lara being unavailable behind the Whale and in front of the walls, </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UyVrTw1DOHk/TyQ5W6cqW3I/AAAAAAAABcI/5dvvKevfXEo/s1600/P1000868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UyVrTw1DOHk/TyQ5W6cqW3I/AAAAAAAABcI/5dvvKevfXEo/s320/P1000868.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">and here's the lion on the clock tower. I hope you appreciate this one as I nearly got run over in the process of taking it. OK that's an exaggeration. I was a tad ... incautious. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v0ZkGP1D6W0/TyQ5sfQ3kWI/AAAAAAAABcQ/GxXWABPZAmY/s1600/P1000862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v0ZkGP1D6W0/TyQ5sfQ3kWI/AAAAAAAABcQ/GxXWABPZAmY/s320/P1000862.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4elymWIwn_M/TyQ6Bc0yWRI/AAAAAAAABcY/PHlzTK_feyg/s1600/P1000863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4elymWIwn_M/TyQ6Bc0yWRI/AAAAAAAABcY/PHlzTK_feyg/s320/P1000863.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Ah, now the geese were quite a different matter. Highly voluble and more eager than was strictly healthy for my fingers, as usual. If there's a bird around, you can trust me to end up with fingers in its beak. Lara was much more sensible in feeding them.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r_Uwt4ucvWc/TyQ6aieecvI/AAAAAAAABcg/6d51wPIVX74/s1600/P1000866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-r_Uwt4ucvWc/TyQ6aieecvI/AAAAAAAABcg/6d51wPIVX74/s320/P1000866.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">We tried to have a look at the cathedral but, just like the last time we came, it was shut. After lunch we wandered back, and hey presto it was open - at an hour it shouldn't have been, too. Upon moseying in with considerable eagerness, we found it was open in preparation for a funeral - with the result that we couldn't see the famous painting by Giorgone in there, but still, we saw the church, which is also nice. That's not the main thing, though. On the way out, we saw the notice for the person whose funeral it was. Some magnificently sprightly lady of 103!!! There was a picture of her and she looked great. ONE HUNDRED AND THREE, as my knees are nobbly. Then just yesterday there was a snippet on the news that (something like) 170,000 Italians are centogenarians. I tell you what, that Mediterranean diet must work wonders. What's even better, is that they don't stint on their wine rations, either. Full steam ahead for me, I'd say.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then there was LUNCH. Noontime, in a quiet medieval city, and one simply gets the urge to dine on tripe in broth. I didn't resist it. Reckoned it would be a jolly long time before I got the chance to try tripe in broth, so carpe diem - or carpe tripe. For those that are curious, it was much less of an extreme flavour than you might expect. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rather highly seasoned, simply in salt and pepper, and the tripe itself had the consistency of croutons that haven't melted in the soup yet - and somehow don't quite disintegrate. Fairly mild, relatively interesting. </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Eg92MY1Bf0/TyQ6xyWkFmI/AAAAAAAABco/4EcbnhW0hTU/s1600/P1000871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Eg92MY1Bf0/TyQ6xyWkFmI/AAAAAAAABco/4EcbnhW0hTU/s320/P1000871.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">However, the LITTLES had a pork chop. A pork chop about as big as her head. It came a little later than mine or the Whale's items, and the waitress put it down in front of her with a 'buon apetito' and left with a supressed giggle at the expression of shock on Lara's face at the scale of the task ahead. By the time she cleared the plate away, the shock was on the face of the waitress and Lara was barely moving from pork-induced coma. See this here? Honest, we didn't give her any wine. Just pork.She even managed to have a canolo afterwards.. or at least part of one. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c8THPgvxm3Y/TyQ7iV0Co7I/AAAAAAAABc4/3JkE9BQ-Yr4/s1600/P1000879.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c8THPgvxm3Y/TyQ7iV0Co7I/AAAAAAAABc4/3JkE9BQ-Yr4/s320/P1000879.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
In the car on the way home. Playing with sharks, of course. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1angyXCj7gY/TyQ76XX0vaI/AAAAAAAABdA/bQoosu8QwO0/s1600/P1000886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1angyXCj7gY/TyQ76XX0vaI/AAAAAAAABdA/bQoosu8QwO0/s320/P1000886.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Later that day, we went to pay a visit to Iole and Aurora at their place. Kids played, we chatted. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h9pGcY4HWMc/TyQ8QxXug_I/AAAAAAAABdI/FcKkvtwCG4g/s1600/P1000899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h9pGcY4HWMc/TyQ8QxXug_I/AAAAAAAABdI/FcKkvtwCG4g/s320/P1000899.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
... Chatted, and played with cats. They have two cats and one dog. Heaven. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bJEK_nYhG4Y/TyQ8mLrC89I/AAAAAAAABdQ/QXhJWCpK4RE/s1600/P1000893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bJEK_nYhG4Y/TyQ8mLrC89I/AAAAAAAABdQ/QXhJWCpK4RE/s320/P1000893.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Still later, the Marchesin family came over for an hour, and kids played, we chatted. On this occasion, Filippo and Lara just disappeared off into our bedroom and we saw no heard hide nor hair of them. Filippo speaks English so communication wasn't an issue, it seems. Here's a photo that I took, but perhaps the self-timer ones we found later on Lara's camera tell us more about what they were actually up to.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Unef7sZHYo/TyQ8_IkkmgI/AAAAAAAABdY/c_VDqH9uoQ4/s1600/P1000915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3Unef7sZHYo/TyQ8_IkkmgI/AAAAAAAABdY/c_VDqH9uoQ4/s320/P1000915.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Self-timer specials.... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ywytZsJe900/TyQ9U2w11CI/AAAAAAAABdg/C3nrhIUXpn0/s1600/P1000905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ywytZsJe900/TyQ9U2w11CI/AAAAAAAABdg/C3nrhIUXpn0/s320/P1000905.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ApW56XzPeMo/TyQ9pwo2JCI/AAAAAAAABdo/TX68re4Q14g/s1600/P1000906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ApW56XzPeMo/TyQ9pwo2JCI/AAAAAAAABdo/TX68re4Q14g/s320/P1000906.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GV1CaRXaF9k/TyQ-AfJgRKI/AAAAAAAABdw/gQ1kIjn80ds/s1600/P1000910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GV1CaRXaF9k/TyQ-AfJgRKI/AAAAAAAABdw/gQ1kIjn80ds/s320/P1000910.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-17778099669669021192012-01-28T21:45:00.001+11:002012-01-29T17:14:56.113+11:00January 24th 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1bVgrohKFhg/TyPLKT3kX1I/AAAAAAAABbo/Lo4o-fjI-5M/s1600/P1000935.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1bVgrohKFhg/TyPLKT3kX1I/AAAAAAAABbo/Lo4o-fjI-5M/s320/P1000935.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UwOmOAUdOMo/TyPKd1yIs0I/AAAAAAAABbY/Lx9x5eVqgjY/s1600/P1000917.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="MsoNormal">Treviso on the Twenty Fourth had a distinctly horsey flavour. No, not literally - even though we're in Italy. In the morning, we went to the market, passing the goats on the island. (Here's Non surveying them. So engrossed that she refused point blank to look away even for a second at the camera.)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UwOmOAUdOMo/TyPKd1yIs0I/AAAAAAAABbY/Lx9x5eVqgjY/s1600/P1000917.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UwOmOAUdOMo/TyPKd1yIs0I/AAAAAAAABbY/Lx9x5eVqgjY/s320/P1000917.JPG" width="240" /></a> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">The ostensible reason for the visit to the market was to get some flowers for the Mino - which we did. The Non chose a bunch of yellow tulips. In the meantime I'd spotted several stalls of interest, so the Whale chivalrously took the Non to the playground, with the purchased flowers, and let me stay behind and poke my nose into here, there and everywhere at a pace of leisure unknown to parent kind. My, I had fun. By the time I came to the playground they'd long gone. I got home to find them snuggled up in front of the computer, having been to the Mino's already. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Later, we made another excursion to purchase a ball - duly found. It was at a toyshop, and we spent rather longer ogling various items than was strictly necessary but luckily came out mostly unscathed. Next door was a shop that also happened to sell Proseco, so ... well. Not only that, but just outside it was a horsey ride, for which (for once) I actually forked out 50 cents. She was ecstatic. Apparently the horse in question is called Gallops, and "they went on an adventure, and they were in the US and there was postman Whale Shark, and they were going to catch the other postman, after they found three pieces of krill, and they caught the other postman in the end. Then they lived happily ever after, and came back to the carousel. The end." All these 'adventures' are fuelled by her Magic Pony Carousel books, of course. They lend carousel rides another whole dimension. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E5b97xFsKC8/TyPKIEzQ9EI/AAAAAAAABbQ/DJgk1UMZcEo/s1600/P1000921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E5b97xFsKC8/TyPKIEzQ9EI/AAAAAAAABbQ/DJgk1UMZcEo/s320/P1000921.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Still later, I took Lara out to the square - actually they dropped us there on the way back and we just walked back. The object was... the carousel! Oh yeah. As per last time, she rode on 'Flowers'. Ok, here's the adventure they had. "We had pizza, and after that we had apple crumble, and after crumble, we had FIVE hours of telly, and then we had a crocodile shark's favourite book which was 'The Travelling Crocodile Shark". Then we said bye see you again on the last day in Italy. And then Flowers took us back to the carousel." (I shall have to tell you about the other adventure she had with the crocodile shark on another occasion.) </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We had a lovely walk back home, not only because it was a beautiful evening and we were both in a good mood, BUT we had the amazing luck to find... (wait for it) SHARK JELLIES. A stall selling coconut mushrooms and shark jellies. After a carousel ride. Lara was in heaven. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PvooT4rL0Rk/TyPLhc9P1KI/AAAAAAAABbw/eqnR1mqzwWo/s1600/P1000928.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PvooT4rL0Rk/TyPLhc9P1KI/AAAAAAAABbw/eqnR1mqzwWo/s320/P1000928.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UwOmOAUdOMo/TyPKd1yIs0I/AAAAAAAABbY/Lx9x5eVqgjY/s1600/P1000917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>Just to cap off the horse-theme, here's the Cavalino sign. (For those not in the know, it's a rather nice eatery.) </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5kdXR8pNhU0/TyPKyRBOlqI/AAAAAAAABbg/F3TmiULpojU/s1600/P1000934.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5kdXR8pNhU0/TyPKyRBOlqI/AAAAAAAABbg/F3TmiULpojU/s320/P1000934.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">In the evening, Iole and Alessandra came over for dinner. We put Lara to bed and had a great curry the Woof cooked. It must have been a good evening because I can barely remember what happened, just a pleasant haze of spices, chicken and conviviality. Oh, and Alessandra had gone mad and (literally) bought all the fritelle in the baker's shop, something like a kilo of them. In case you don't know (I didn't until now) fritelle are special for Carnival time, and are tiny eggy donuts with no holes in them but added raisins. I ate more than could conceivably have been acceptable from a health standpoint. Than there was whisky. No wonder it's all hazy. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1bVgrohKFhg/TyPLKT3kX1I/AAAAAAAABbo/Lo4o-fjI-5M/s1600/P1000935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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</a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-67026951154330063252012-01-28T19:34:00.005+11:002012-01-28T19:42:00.514+11:00January 25th 2012 - Cibiana, the Dolomites<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our day in the mountains actually started with (you guessed it) a visit to the playground. In Treviso. Having purchased a ball the day before, there were all sorts of games to be played, many involving rolling and tossing said ball through complicated routes along the playframes. It also involved Throw the Ball High. Some football (with hightly dubious rules) and quite a bit of Catch. As well as the usual slides and swings. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YsPwSJ_4zts/TyOTvQftJTI/AAAAAAAABXY/zKNvDWcaz2w/s320/P1000939.JPG" width="240" /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NAjNT2otb4A/TyOUHE9B3qI/AAAAAAAABXg/Ua4wUiaTsnw/s1600/P1000937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NAjNT2otb4A/TyOUHE9B3qI/AAAAAAAABXg/Ua4wUiaTsnw/s320/P1000937.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
After lunch, we set off for the W&W's retreat in the mountains. Here's the countryside getting hillier.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">"**** me, I've finally turned into an angler fish!"</div><br />
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Actually, she was just caught in the middle of taking a deep breath before counting the 'seconds' (again, in the loosest sense) it took to go through one of the many tunnels we went through. I think the longest was about 3.8 km long. What with copious tunnels and monolithic bridges boring right through or spanning the mountains, the roads are truly an impressive feat of engineering round here.<br />
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The first of many walks. Lara rapidly developed an obsession about climbing the various peaks she could see. In the backgroud here is Antilao. For this one she was told, no, you can't go up there unless you're an expert climber, it's too dangerous. We spent the necxt two days listening to how she was going to become an expert climber, and use her ice axe, and come back and climb Antilao. I dunno, possibly when she's ... eight.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Who's the leader?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6ri0gcu5Gsk/TyOWEl7VdEI/AAAAAAAABYI/zM9hzt9222g/s1600/P1000953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6ri0gcu5Gsk/TyOWEl7VdEI/AAAAAAAABYI/zM9hzt9222g/s320/P1000953.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
Ah, yes, this was the snowman we found - which Lara said 'is a little bit scary.' We didn't enquire too deeply about why it... ahem... he... was scary. Oh well, this is Italy, after all.<br />
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Alan being offered a bit of 'snow cake'. Whether he wants it or not. <br />
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There's a spring and a pipe on this mountain walk, too. This one was frozen solid, though. It was great weather while we were there but still jolly nippy. It had been minus 17 a few days before.<br />
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The gigantic building below is an Austrian cattle shed from about 1850. Don't ask me. <br />
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See those two houses in front? See the roof just peeking behind the back one, like a shadow? That one's the W&W's block. <br />
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They have such a great view I can't imagine they'll be hanging many pictures up on the walls. Sunset, from the sitting room. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">An evening card game.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DFlDEfKU-yk/TyOZpRatGxI/AAAAAAAABZQ/-3wzKhQU9Y0/s1600/P1000973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DFlDEfKU-yk/TyOZpRatGxI/AAAAAAAABZQ/-3wzKhQU9Y0/s320/P1000973.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Another Lara self-timer special, with her favourite toy. Alan. <br />
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"Dear god, I ordered Quatro Stagioni and they've brought me Siciliana. One can't get the staff any more. The youth of today...." Actually, I was telling her a 'horror story' about a 'little girl' who happened to be eating a delicious pizza, when her unscrupulous mother distracted her and somehow the pizza kept disappearing. Same with the strudle and the biscuits that followed. It elicited raucous but slightly nervous laughter from her.<br />
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Looking up whale sharks and gulper eels, as usual. For her 'Oceans' party, the costume she'd really like me to make her is a goblin shark. You may not know what a goblin shark looks like. It's ugly in the way only truly deep-sea creatures can manage. Not only that but it has a huge, pointed snout. If I made her that she's poke someone's eye out each time she turned round. I think I've got my work cut out for me.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vw7c6zDZmxQ/TyOa-dq9brI/AAAAAAAABZw/oxPoz-7f4A0/s1600/P1000982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vw7c6zDZmxQ/TyOa-dq9brI/AAAAAAAABZw/oxPoz-7f4A0/s320/P1000982.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-80220334580159419392012-01-28T17:01:00.003+11:002012-01-28T18:35:47.812+11:00OMG they switched my Campari for an Aperol - Jan 26th '12<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uYHIXt6imIk/TyLq2bmohbI/AAAAAAAABU4/l_FvXOu0jqg/s1600/P1010046+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uYHIXt6imIk/TyLq2bmohbI/AAAAAAAABU4/l_FvXOu0jqg/s320/P1010046+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Now, I seem to have uploaded an awful lot of pics from the local bar on the 26th. You really mustn't get the impression that we spend all our time in bars of an early afternoon. ... Right??<br />
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No, no, the glazed expression's got absolutely nothing to do with the Campari Spritz - look, the child's got it too, and she's on hot chocolate. There were some marvellous characters who came in and out of the bar, including a fat man of about 25 who sat slumped at a chair indulging in snuff (when did you last see someone taking snuff?), the Old Man of the Woods who shuffled in in boots that looked three sizes too big for him, a knitted hat that must have been pre-WW1 and a countenance craggy as the Dolomites all packaged up into a 5 foot 3 bundle of joy; and the bartender who seemed to be unable to keep more clothing on than a a remarkably thin black T shirt which showed off his tattoos nicely... as you can see <i>we </i>were all still in our coats. Mind you I guess if someone was to wear a tight black T shirt there could be worse people - I noticed that even the Littles was strangely glued to a bar seat facing him initially, and subsequently declared her hot chocolate was The Best I've Ever Had. Or perhaps it was just his obsession with monkeys.<br />
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One of the Non's specials - the photo that is. I've taken to carrying her camera around instead of mine, because it's so much less cumbersome - but in any case she took this one and I think it's rather artistic. A six-year-old's table view.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Inadvertent Poirot impression</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uSRNW3JEOPs/TyLsqt_CsHI/AAAAAAAABVg/X0y9PdMHukc/s1600/P1010027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uSRNW3JEOPs/TyLsqt_CsHI/AAAAAAAABVg/X0y9PdMHukc/s320/P1010027.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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Now, our REAL purpose on this walk was to see some of the ubandant artwork on the external house walls all around the village of Cibiana. Seems they've gone mad on murals, and highly interesting it is too. Indeed, why <i>not </i>paint your house with pictures rather than Dulux? The one underneath was entitled 'the letter from abroad', I think. <br />
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This one got sponsored by the European Union, the Whale said. <br />
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'Parently this one's famous, but keeps falling down. Depicts a battle involving valleys and Venetians. And ambushes. Don't ask me the details.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Beehives at rest. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JeX5yddC3Kg/TyLxdJXjv-I/AAAAAAAABXI/nvdBd3SPm9o/s1600/P1010018+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JeX5yddC3Kg/TyLxdJXjv-I/AAAAAAAABXI/nvdBd3SPm9o/s320/P1010018+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yqcOwQgwSws/TyLwa-i1aVI/AAAAAAAABWw/OyON0IXEkDE/s1600/P1000991.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">'Good god, it's a mountain. Who would have expected it.' </a><br />
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<img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yqcOwQgwSws/TyLwa-i1aVI/AAAAAAAABWw/OyON0IXEkDE/s320/P1000991.JPG" width="320" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NJIDT5tsbY8/TyLxIGeN-QI/AAAAAAAABXA/GVGEvfFAi6A/s1600/P1010015+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">Now THAT's expert wood stacking. </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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Well, there we are. Either we were walking about picturesque villages under skies that denied any knowledge of ever having even seen a cloud, let alone associate with one, or we rolled the Littles in the snow, or we sat indoors and had cheese and wine while Lara looked at goblin sharks and deep sea gulper eels on the net. In the evening we played Rummikubs... for the record on the 25th the Whale trounced the girls and on the 26th he lost disgracefully. Not that anyone cackled 'revenge!' on the second night... of course.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">I particularly liked this one </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bxanZZTJxQI/TyOgd0WEEzI/AAAAAAAABaQ/DZ_2byo2C18/s1600/P1010070+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bxanZZTJxQI/TyOgd0WEEzI/AAAAAAAABaQ/DZ_2byo2C18/s320/P1010070+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
A strangely cat-infested house. They hung around the place like fat, hairy vultures. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Looking remarkably coy next to Mr Snowman </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rHLqGHolFyM/TyOhJvMfNUI/AAAAAAAABag/k05koDAIKm0/s1600/P1010080+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rHLqGHolFyM/TyOhJvMfNUI/AAAAAAAABag/k05koDAIKm0/s320/P1010080+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"> 'I can touch the ceiling over our bed!' </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2MdDwl297N8/TyOi5Wud9VI/AAAAAAAABbI/DAyR8WLYLJ4/s1600/P1010096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2MdDwl297N8/TyOi5Wud9VI/AAAAAAAABbI/DAyR8WLYLJ4/s320/P1010096.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-5076908731947533512012-01-28T04:55:00.000+11:002012-01-28T04:55:48.910+11:00January 27th 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
Antilao - or 'Auntie Lau' the gigantic Chinese relation who is also the largest mountain in the Dolomites, from the W&W's sitting room window, at about 7:30 this morning.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nnCx-MjtO_s/TyLU9MRDNiI/AAAAAAAABS4/9t8WnYENdsc/s1600/P1010105.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nnCx-MjtO_s/TyLU9MRDNiI/AAAAAAAABS4/9t8WnYENdsc/s320/P1010105.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kLa1zguIhrs/TyLVShASUHI/AAAAAAAABTA/F21URdfUj0g/s1600/P1010100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <span style="color: black;"> </span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;">Lara WITH Auntie Lau in the background, in her PJs, a bit earlier. (Let's say 7 ish). It was jolly nippy on the balcony. (And I can't get the underline off here and I'm not going to bother or question.) </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"> </span> <u><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kLa1zguIhrs/TyLVShASUHI/AAAAAAAABTA/F21URdfUj0g/s320/P1010100.JPG" style="color: black;" width="320" /></u><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nnCx-MjtO_s/TyLU9MRDNiI/AAAAAAAABS4/9t8WnYENdsc/s1600/P1010105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
Lara considerably later, with her 'ice pick' .. no, sorry, 'ice axe'. Not sure how long we were rolling about in the snow for but probably a couple of hours.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9jthH74zNYk/TyLVtR4diBI/AAAAAAAABTI/fDS4HFNIGfQ/s1600/P1010113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9jthH74zNYk/TyLVtR4diBI/AAAAAAAABTI/fDS4HFNIGfQ/s320/P1010113.JPG" width="240" /></a></div> Climbing 'Shark Mountain' (aka the pile of snow heaped off the carpark) .. over, and over again.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U3rbzhhmBAU/TyLWEl1dGNI/AAAAAAAABTQ/qUSxKgSKc7Q/s1600/P1010122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U3rbzhhmBAU/TyLWEl1dGNI/AAAAAAAABTQ/qUSxKgSKc7Q/s320/P1010122.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Lara at the summit of Shark Mountain. <br />
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Here follow a number of pics from the W&W's most excellent flat, for those that are interested. I know they posted a few measly ones before but they really don't do the place justice. Neither do these, of course, but it's just lovely. Here's the kitchen (I have a flair for pointing out the obvious)<br />
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Here's Whaley trying to check his shares in the odd second the Non give him, in the sitting room. It's at an L shape tangent to the kitchen.<br />
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Here's our bedroom, on the same floor as the kitchen etc <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and here's the W&W's room, also on the same floor</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3dWyDpVjvos/TyLYWeX0neI/AAAAAAAABT4/VDR39w8iAcA/s1600/P1010150.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3dWyDpVjvos/TyLYWeX0neI/AAAAAAAABT4/VDR39w8iAcA/s320/P1010150.JPG" width="240" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">self-timer effort from the Non - she's mad keen on them... </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i6wGE4-psNI/TyLaaBjCPgI/AAAAAAAABUo/SQkwY9_TAI4/s1600/P1010147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i6wGE4-psNI/TyLaaBjCPgI/AAAAAAAABUo/SQkwY9_TAI4/s320/P1010147.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EzpO0dYRbx4/TyLa03USu-I/AAAAAAAABUw/jzp6UOorgQQ/s1600/P1010149.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EzpO0dYRbx4/TyLa03USu-I/AAAAAAAABUw/jzp6UOorgQQ/s320/P1010149.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>This is the study, upstairs. There's another larger bedroom upstairs with en-suit bathroom, but I'll leave off the photos for the benefit of any readers who are non-family members... besides, it's entirely empty. Nice, though. Just take my word for it. <br />
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There's also a cavernous garage underneath, with extra storage cubby holes. <br />
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Taken fromt he car on the way back to Treviso. Look closely and you'll see that it's a frozen waterfall.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Lara eats tic tacs. Only orange, though. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yyUsnkQ6SBw/TyLaGGEc33I/AAAAAAAABUg/SeF6uTwZGC0/s1600/P1010159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yyUsnkQ6SBw/TyLaGGEc33I/AAAAAAAABUg/SeF6uTwZGC0/s320/P1010159.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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... And so we came back. Without ever having managed to post about being there. I have to say, I rather gave up the ghost on posting because of the internet connection at the mountains... It's a bit like the little girl with the curl, sometimes it's just dandy and then it's all kaput and if you're loading pics into blogger it's a nightmare. We were there for two nights and had an absolute blast, Lara was in heaven. Well, in snow, more accurately. In any case, I'll just keep posting backwards until I get back to stuff I've told you about... .I think I've taken about 300 pics since the last post so heavens help me.<br />
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Today we did work in the morning (gave her a special holiday yesterday), then had a peculiar skype conversation with Ian because we seemed to have neither mic nor video on our end but we could see and hear him just fine, so he and the Non talked and I typed - sort of interpreted. Interestingly, I noticed I instantly came across the same problem I had when nearly-simultaneously interpreting Japanese/English .... had to stop myself from typing out what Ian was saying as well. Must be the same part of the brain or something, turning sound and meaning into another sort of meaning - or sound. Seems the tendency is just to turn into a regurgitating machine, spewing out information regardless of where it's going. Huh. and I call myself a writer.<br />
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Lara and I spent the morning in the snow just by the house. Had two exhausting games of football (with ice blocks as footballs) where the best of 10 goals won (damn, she won both times). We did throwing contests of various sorts, she climbed 'mountains', she made a peculiar sort of 'museum' of random blocks of snow and ice which were apparently 'the head of a T rex, the head of a Frog, a chair, an ice axe, a snow card...' (??? don't ask me, I don't make these things up). After that, a luch of eggs, cheese and strudle of exquisitely fresh, piquant and tasty nature respectively, and off we went back to Treviso. Ahem... I was the only one to fall asleep in the car. I blame the football.<br />
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The cheeses were 'Rustico' and 'Puzzone'. Ahhhh.... mmmm.... Plus eggplant in oil. What can one say. Dammit, I love cheese. <br />
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</a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-78604466695502682652012-01-19T18:10:00.000+11:002012-01-19T18:10:46.640+11:00New Year's Eve 2011 Belgrade<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PJHSft6832Y/TxerAAnjwYI/AAAAAAAABQI/pAi9UpZm0-U/s1600/IMG_0553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PJHSft6832Y/TxerAAnjwYI/AAAAAAAABQI/pAi9UpZm0-U/s320/IMG_0553.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Missed out on posting these at the time - catch-up. Lara and Leo above. We had a busy New Year's Eve in Belgrade: morning activities were skating:<br />
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Some nearby amusement centre with... stuff. Here's Lara (and Leo in the background) on a car ride...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-84bs4lbsJ6s/TxevvvMN-FI/AAAAAAAABRI/d6oPtpyAaks/s1600/P1000388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-84bs4lbsJ6s/TxevvvMN-FI/AAAAAAAABRI/d6oPtpyAaks/s320/P1000388.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Another car ride... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xourQy5uqww/TxewfRaoozI/AAAAAAAABRY/nofByx0wUt4/s1600/P1000396.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xourQy5uqww/TxewfRaoozI/AAAAAAAABRY/nofByx0wUt4/s320/P1000396.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Does Nea know something about this horse that no-one else does?? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NVtM1noCEFc/Txew22lO0aI/AAAAAAAABRg/UXPyXZvVmFw/s1600/P1000400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NVtM1noCEFc/Txew22lO0aI/AAAAAAAABRg/UXPyXZvVmFw/s320/P1000400.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">More amusement </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o433lFZsfio/TxexOepXaEI/AAAAAAAABRo/V3B2dbceVMY/s1600/P1000401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-o433lFZsfio/TxexOepXaEI/AAAAAAAABRo/V3B2dbceVMY/s320/P1000401.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Then setting off rockets in a field. Whizzz.. bang! I've got some excellent videos of Lara being a rocket, must try and get those up...<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Pie in her kitchen, today with masses of cabbage and noodles </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_4L6Pyu5E6U/TxeyUUGbtuI/AAAAAAAABSA/QqVoJWt0UpA/s1600/P1000423.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_4L6Pyu5E6U/TxeyUUGbtuI/AAAAAAAABSA/QqVoJWt0UpA/s320/P1000423.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Kids play Wii while waiting for dinner </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yrUL528ILEw/Txey7lugJdI/AAAAAAAABSI/8oz8a7tb2w0/s1600/P1000424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yrUL528ILEw/Txey7lugJdI/AAAAAAAABSI/8oz8a7tb2w0/s320/P1000424.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Random vegetable assortment on our bed</div><br />
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Leo can't wait for Toshikoshi Soba! (Year-bridge noodles - traditional. I think it was my first time to have them: delicious!) <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Nea ready, too! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R3W6MRISlN4/TxeznO3EZ3I/AAAAAAAABSY/zoEJlqRLUlA/s1600/P1000428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R3W6MRISlN4/TxeznO3EZ3I/AAAAAAAABSY/zoEJlqRLUlA/s320/P1000428.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Time for woolfing! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-siOV0mDYKj0/Txez8xOprQI/AAAAAAAABSg/aRK3wQhDQRk/s1600/P1000431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-siOV0mDYKj0/Txez8xOprQI/AAAAAAAABSg/aRK3wQhDQRk/s320/P1000431.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">One of Lara's self-timer specials, on her own camera </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tHsG6HKaYso/Txe0pigyY_I/AAAAAAAABSw/B-eZFBXD5Qc/s1600/P1000446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tHsG6HKaYso/Txe0pigyY_I/AAAAAAAABSw/B-eZFBXD5Qc/s320/P1000446.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Fireworks and sparklers after dinner (and jumping) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-juZifh67J0Y/TxesLihq7PI/AAAAAAAABQg/U5QLJ3BvZCY/s1600/IMG_0533.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-juZifh67J0Y/TxesLihq7PI/AAAAAAAABQg/U5QLJ3BvZCY/s320/IMG_0533.JPG" width="213" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5A93fb-Y318/TxesaLrG6OI/AAAAAAAABQo/qWhodVgUtyg/s1600/IMG_0535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5A93fb-Y318/TxesaLrG6OI/AAAAAAAABQo/qWhodVgUtyg/s320/IMG_0535.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jx_MyJ7HFIU/TxesrGvFY2I/AAAAAAAABQw/nW5E3n9MsLY/s1600/IMG_0530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jx_MyJ7HFIU/TxesrGvFY2I/AAAAAAAABQw/nW5E3n9MsLY/s320/IMG_0530.JPG" width="213" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l29hO5x3hCc/TxetCZCtqXI/AAAAAAAABQ4/X8u0lHViF1w/s1600/IMG_0529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l29hO5x3hCc/TxetCZCtqXI/AAAAAAAABQ4/X8u0lHViF1w/s320/IMG_0529.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-49128259711902771922012-01-19T04:06:00.001+11:002012-01-19T04:11:07.096+11:00January 18th 2012 (Wednesday)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--XFmTMESvS4/Txb1jWAAk-I/AAAAAAAABPQ/kc0YLJE7wLU/s1600/P1150004.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div><div class="MsoNormal">"Why is Venice so wobbly?" </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Question of the day recently, regarding the chronic subsidence problem the above mentioned city suffers from. Well, is it called subsidence when the substrate you're subsiding into is water? Don't know. When you get 'that sinking feeling' and all your marble floors go wonky by several feet. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I've logged on to catch up a bit but things aren't going too well for me, frankly. In a small way. Woke up this morning to find someone had lined my gullet with broken glass bottles and pounded limbs and chest with a meat-tenderiser. Or in other words, I have a cold. The not-so-mysterious-stomach-pain-on-the-left-side-that's-almost-certainly-a-regrowing-cyst is raising its bumpiness to irritating proportions. So I took a shower, and whacked elbow onto decorative tap with such force (just on the joiny bit) that it still won't grip properly at the end of the am - what are those things called, hands. After five cups of tea and some strong drugs things were looking up, and the early afternoon wasn't so painful. After lunch, fell asleep and (serve me right for laziness) woke up with broken glass again. Took more drugs and tea, and refilled my hot-water bottle for the stomach - during the course of which it back-flowed suddenly and spilled copious amounts of scalding water all over my hand. Currently that's top on the list of aches and pains, despite running under cold water for an unreasonable amount of time. After this, decided to sit quietly at the computer and update stuff, and promptly turned the machine off instead of opening a browser. In the words of Miss Cecily Cardew, 'the weather still continues charming.' </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Despite this supposed litany of mishaps it's all been rather quiet and pleasant. Took walk along to town, and had some nice woollen jumper-dresses and pretty earrings bought for me - thank you Woof and Whale. Littles played in the playground (of course) and afterwards was entertained by making collages, playing with her helicopter and generally molesting her grandparents. I am pampered and allowed to do whatever I please, it seems. What's a bit of scalding here and there under these circumstances. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here are some pics from Sunday, when Alessandra and the Mino came over the lunch. Mino's doing the 'running mouse' trick with a whale - naturally. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SNS0oTg1u78/Txb1VXdEDPI/AAAAAAAABPI/QIH8pNBTD_c/s1600/P1150001.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SNS0oTg1u78/Txb1VXdEDPI/AAAAAAAABPI/QIH8pNBTD_c/s320/P1150001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--XFmTMESvS4/Txb1jWAAk-I/AAAAAAAABPQ/kc0YLJE7wLU/s1600/P1150004.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--XFmTMESvS4/Txb1jWAAk-I/AAAAAAAABPQ/kc0YLJE7wLU/s320/P1150004.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here's Lara with Mr Love, back in Zagreb on the last night. Bit of a treat for her. I took him out of her bed after a couple of hours and wasn't sure who was noisier, her snoring or his purring. He tried mightily to resist but eventually let go of the pillow and was evicted. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">More cats, in the morning. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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Just in case there weren't enough pics from the park, here's Maksimir on the 8th January (back in Zagreb, too). Boy, those see-saws were hard on the arse. I thought it wasn't too bad the first day, but we came back the next day and I was required as ballast again... ooh, **** me but I need more padding before I can enjoy sitting on a log and bounce up and down repeatedly, or indeed, avoid lasting bruises.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzXcrqmWlTg/Txb3hhLHvKI/AAAAAAAABPo/dUQxnpVsZlQ/s1600/17-Lara+and+Vesna-014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzXcrqmWlTg/Txb3hhLHvKI/AAAAAAAABPo/dUQxnpVsZlQ/s320/17-Lara+and+Vesna-014.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here we are on the 12th, doing a visit to the family grave. Probably ended up being more fun than it ought to be as Lara chose some remarkably pretty flowers and we sloshed some whisky over the slab for Baka. Mmm the smell of Ardberg in the morning... I could quite happily have taken a swig myself but there wasn't much in the bottle. Ah well, quasi-voodoo-rights take precedence, I guess. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"> </span> </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WFX9XCPbksU/Txb3-2YKQaI/AAAAAAAABP4/lDMdLplJE7g/s1600/36-P1090086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WFX9XCPbksU/Txb3-2YKQaI/AAAAAAAABP4/lDMdLplJE7g/s320/36-P1090086.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4gweDR2AVSU/Txb4VZNTo1I/AAAAAAAABQA/O3yVBREHV2o/s1600/38-P1090088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4gweDR2AVSU/Txb4VZNTo1I/AAAAAAAABQA/O3yVBREHV2o/s320/38-P1090088.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">Afterwards we barged our way into Debbie's to say hi - poor thing was practically surprised in the shower but was welcoming as ever. Tried to catch up a bit on the last 20 years, and nearly cricked neck looking up at her youngest son Eric who also happened to be there and who's now apparently 8 foot 2 or something and I'm not sure I've seen at all, even when he was a baby. OK no, he's not really a giant but it's an impressive increase on Twinkle in the Eye height. </span></div><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">Last night Valeria came and picked me up for a spritz and some exceedingly tasty nibbles in the evening. It was lovely to chat and catch up a bit - who knows when we'll get the opportunity again. Things seem to be going well for them, at any rate, and she was looking and being lovely as always, so how can one but return with a smile.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-75561523250743720742012-01-18T05:16:00.001+11:002012-01-19T02:54:09.823+11:0016th January 2011 (Monday)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">GUESS what WE found, in the middle of <st1:city><st1:place>Venice</st1:place></st1:city>. A playground! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qmjGZOA72dU/TxWNlXzqPcI/AAAAAAAABLE/c-GC2lbzt5I/s1600/P1160014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qmjGZOA72dU/TxWNlXzqPcI/AAAAAAAABLE/c-GC2lbzt5I/s320/P1160014.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XrqdWm8r7Y4/TxWN6dLOmRI/AAAAAAAABLM/sX_XDiqpEBA/s1600/P1160012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XrqdWm8r7Y4/TxWN6dLOmRI/AAAAAAAABLM/sX_XDiqpEBA/s320/P1160012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Yes, that's right. Yesterday we had a day in <st1:city><st1:place>Venice</st1:place></st1:city>. Here are Lara and the Whale doing morning reading on the train on my Kindle. Some peculiar story it was too, a random thing I downloaded... wish we had more Magic Pony Carousel editions, you know where you are with those.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7uNkSviNDH8/TxWOWXEu_tI/AAAAAAAABLc/MrYf8proaYc/s1600/P1160007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7uNkSviNDH8/TxWOWXEu_tI/AAAAAAAABLc/MrYf8proaYc/s320/P1160007.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Isn't this a lovely gardeny thing, again, in the middle of <st1:city><st1:place>Venice</st1:place></st1:city>?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uAsccK-ypws/TxWOjg_HpiI/AAAAAAAABLk/QCpKnYTThOM/s1600/P1160015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uAsccK-ypws/TxWOjg_HpiI/AAAAAAAABLk/QCpKnYTThOM/s320/P1160015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X7z2ANyeJ04/TxWO48wfmkI/AAAAAAAABLs/mwwovLYBPZw/s1600/P1000615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X7z2ANyeJ04/TxWO48wfmkI/AAAAAAAABLs/mwwovLYBPZw/s320/P1000615.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">The day's explorations started, as usual, with knocking on the lids of wells. What the fascination is I still don't understand, but there we are. You knock on the lid, and yell 'Hellooo, is there anyone in there??' repeatedly. To the consternation of passing tourists. Mind you, it does appear that I'm emerging from a well in the pic above, so perhaps the supposition isn't as erroneous as might seem at first.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a4r_NbKdf64/TxWOI1bC8QI/AAAAAAAABLU/cTO979kXnzM/s1600/P1160010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a4r_NbKdf64/TxWOI1bC8QI/AAAAAAAABLU/cTO979kXnzM/s320/P1160010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Just a pretty pic of some canal.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eiP5twLvr7Q/TxWPRqxvB-I/AAAAAAAABL0/Yo3MauFGxrw/s1600/P1000620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eiP5twLvr7Q/TxWPRqxvB-I/AAAAAAAABL0/Yo3MauFGxrw/s320/P1000620.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Ah, now here they are, sitting on the steps of the church of the Misericordia (I think that's what it was) eating chocolate croissants and donuts. The Whale regaled us with an anecdote about the place, which I shall share. Said that it used to be a church, and has lots of frescos all over the place. Then (this being <st1:city><st1:place>Venice</st1:place></st1:city>) the powers that be decided to turn it into a gym. So people went to their aerobics classes, went to the showers and came out into a space still fresco-covered. Eventually it became run-down and, it seems, dangerous, so it was simply shut down. Now we just eat pastries on the steps. Only in <st1:city><st1:place>Venice</st1:place></st1:city>.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ah, now here they are, spotting the very first gondola. Lara decided to count the number of gondolas she saw, and became quite obsessed with the project throughout the day. I'll be running a (totally non-prize-giving) guessing-game as to just how many gondolas the Non managed to spot. Answer at the end of the blog.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0AJAQoqEWso/TxWQDx617LI/AAAAAAAABME/EHBLICrRw4U/s1600/P1000628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0AJAQoqEWso/TxWQDx617LI/AAAAAAAABME/EHBLICrRw4U/s320/P1000628.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here she is at her favourite occupation of lighting a candle in what I believe was the <st1:place><st1:placetype>church</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename>St Crisostomo</st1:placename></st1:place>. May have been that, or something else - some name that sounded like Christopher spelled by someone who'd been at the communion wine with considerably too much gusto. All the other pics are just the usual grainy things that one ends up with in dark churches pointing a non-flashing camera at murky paintings - none the less it was an interesting church. The Non, however, was most impressed by a massive 10 Euro candle which someone had lit, and stood about three feet high. They must have had a mega-wish.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ebFcxDPkxE/TxWQxCacxII/AAAAAAAABMU/HmUVQH0kFO4/s1600/P1000632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ebFcxDPkxE/TxWQxCacxII/AAAAAAAABMU/HmUVQH0kFO4/s320/P1000632.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">We attempted an abortive visit round the Jewish quarter, but missed the hourly tour of the synagogue by a few minutes and got in a general tizzy up and down the steps of the museum, so decided to go and pay Calle dela Bissa a visit instead. The Whale, of course, had mozarella in carozza - I tried an arancino and also ended up eating the Non's polpetto, so was pretty sunk for the rest of the day. Lara herself drank a hot chocolate, with consummate dignity despite the moustache.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">More spotting of gondolas.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v829foifadM/TxWRgobBo5I/AAAAAAAABMk/yzphesHo4eo/s1600/P1000639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v829foifadM/TxWRgobBo5I/AAAAAAAABMk/yzphesHo4eo/s320/P1000639.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Then, of course, there had to be a ride on the stone lions in St Mark's, which the Whale ogled Venini next door. Traditions, traditions.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v11NsiwzrC0/TxWR6UAnxTI/AAAAAAAABMs/w9n8oDgGDGI/s1600/P1000641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v11NsiwzrC0/TxWR6UAnxTI/AAAAAAAABMs/w9n8oDgGDGI/s320/P1000641.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">No pics from the inside of St Mark's, of course. I handed Lara my binoculars so she could see the mosaics better - or so I thought until I took a closer look at what she was doing. Holding them the wrong way round and giggling quietly to herself at the resulting tiny ceiling. What was a stunner, though, was the INSANE ... well, I don't know what to call it, jewel sticker-album of the Dodge, I guess. I'd never seen it before, and didn't know what to expect. Came round the back of the altar and was practically slapped in the face by the merciless glare of gold plate and brick-load of precious stones. I wonder if I could find a pic of it somewhere and paste it here just so you can see what I'm talking about... Ah, here we are . Palla d'oro. Mind you, you really can't see any of the rocks (and I mean, rocks) that are all over the damn thing. ****ing gobsmacking. Which I'm sure was the intention. As the Whale said, divert the odd Crusade, pilfer for a thousand years or so and that's what you get.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img src="https://encrypted-tbn3.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRFs4RlGM5OgXHubbazJelhDhlwjOVS6x1T-0W9XG0mnIZWPUa8" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Afterwards, Lara discovered another tradition outside. Pigeons! Ah, joy, we had some pastry left over. Weren't the pigeons glad, and wasn't Lara mesmerised!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KsUTpWNjNag/TxWST_fVNzI/AAAAAAAABM0/KaYcjBXGfYE/s1600/P1000652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KsUTpWNjNag/TxWST_fVNzI/AAAAAAAABM0/KaYcjBXGfYE/s320/P1000652.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Learned an interesting thing about this bell-tower. Fell down completely in 1902. There's a picture of a black-and-white square with a mega pile of rubble and no tower. Been rebuilt since then, obviously. One would never know, would one.</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v1LEsgFCgEY/TxWSs49EHkI/AAAAAAAABM8/6lIKguIjxvM/s1600/P1000663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v1LEsgFCgEY/TxWSs49EHkI/AAAAAAAABM8/6lIKguIjxvM/s320/P1000663.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here's Lara 'touching the nail'. You have to walk down a certain stretch of alcove without anyone crossing your path and touch the nail to to be 'lucky'. Place was deserted at the time so she had no trouble. I tried as well, but was told I was disqualified because I walked too quickly: you have to do it at a normal walking pace. My protests that that's my normal walking pace fell on deaf (and frozen) ears.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G8WW-2uSlLw/TxWTDPr0ZfI/AAAAAAAABNE/neExaX67NYc/s1600/P1000664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G8WW-2uSlLw/TxWTDPr0ZfI/AAAAAAAABNE/neExaX67NYc/s320/P1000664.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What do you think the gondola count was up to by this time?</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fx-z6v2OxjA/TxWTqQ1g9_I/AAAAAAAABNM/gHwYOTTdqGA/s1600/P1000665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fx-z6v2OxjA/TxWTqQ1g9_I/AAAAAAAABNM/gHwYOTTdqGA/s320/P1000665.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mowaHzHSCdM/TxWUApXGHCI/AAAAAAAABNU/XsFS5EuPhpc/s1600/P1000666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mowaHzHSCdM/TxWUApXGHCI/AAAAAAAABNU/XsFS5EuPhpc/s320/P1000666.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Here's a rather refreshing church, I think it was Mr Barbaro. Instead of going through the charade of having images of Christ and the saints made, he just converted a church into a private mausoleum for himself. Stuck life-size carvings of himself and his whole family (which numbered many) all over the facade, and for good measure also posted up reliefs of all the places he'd had military victories over around the bottom.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-533R7Yg0Rus/TxWUV0fLCpI/AAAAAAAABNc/eAAQsZiVFYA/s1600/P1000667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-533R7Yg0Rus/TxWUV0fLCpI/AAAAAAAABNc/eAAQsZiVFYA/s320/P1000667.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ok, this might seem like an uninspiring photo, but look at the building at the end of it. This is the only church in <st1:city style="text-align: left;"><st1:place>Venice</st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left;"> that's built (partially) on a bridge. Now here's the anecdote. For many years, the altar was situated right on the bridge. The congregation was greatly perturbed that while serious devotions were going on <i>over </i>the bridge, less devotionally minded were doing unspeakable things in gondolas <i>under </i>the bridge. Eventually, the altar was moved. Interestingly, I noted that no-one even considered the possibility of stopping the gondolas or their occupants from 'indulging' under the bridge. This is </span><st1:country-region style="text-align: left;"><st1:place>Italy</st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left;">, after all. Can't be stopped, not for heaven or earth.</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xkoddX9BGBY/TxWUuAKOMcI/AAAAAAAABNk/04jRr4hOHns/s1600/P1000668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xkoddX9BGBY/TxWUuAKOMcI/AAAAAAAABNk/04jRr4hOHns/s320/P1000668.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Just a nice pic of the <st1:place style="text-align: left;">Grand Canal</st1:place>.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What's the gondola count NOW?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OpU1aJkgzMI/TxWVceQEjOI/AAAAAAAABN0/jRANV0n7XA4/s1600/P1000675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OpU1aJkgzMI/TxWVceQEjOI/AAAAAAAABN0/jRANV0n7XA4/s320/P1000675.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YQpDkkc6YeE/TxWV1iX2-BI/AAAAAAAABN8/2AlqSkoUt4w/s1600/P1000676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YQpDkkc6YeE/TxWV1iX2-BI/AAAAAAAABN8/2AlqSkoUt4w/s320/P1000676.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">An another one - this one from the 19th century!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pG4_5AJXzVU/TxWWLy1pGJI/AAAAAAAABOE/0Hy-VKlwgvg/s1600/P1000679.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pG4_5AJXzVU/TxWWLy1pGJI/AAAAAAAABOE/0Hy-VKlwgvg/s320/P1000679.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Last stop was the Ca' Rezzonico. Not, I have to say, Lara's favourite, though entirely splendid. The argument that she wasn't going to get the opportunity to traipse round a <st1:place>Venetia</st1:place> palace in a while didn't seem to hold water with her. No pics from here again (no cameras), and there were many marvellous paintings crammed into every nook and cranny - but we did notice one painter - Pietro Longhi - who frankly ... well. Firstly he appears to have had only one model, for both male and female, old and young, as all the people look exactly the same. Secondly, that one model bore a remarkable resemblance to a potato. A whole room full of 'em. 'Strodinary.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Today's caption competition...</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OSIbywH5SPs/TxWWjWEvM0I/AAAAAAAABOM/C3V3wGyL1GU/s1600/P1000680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OSIbywH5SPs/TxWWjWEvM0I/AAAAAAAABOM/C3V3wGyL1GU/s320/P1000680.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qDcohJwMMC4/TxWW52nbIaI/AAAAAAAABOU/tuIXx9VxxGE/s1600/P1000685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qDcohJwMMC4/TxWW52nbIaI/AAAAAAAABOU/tuIXx9VxxGE/s320/P1000685.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">View of <st1:city><st1:place>Venice</st1:place></st1:city> from a room in Ca'Rezzonico .. note the gardens to the right, that'll be important in a moment...</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VuSO0Cw9KxU/TxWXTcTzaoI/AAAAAAAABOc/08vEC8_mT8E/s1600/P1000686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VuSO0Cw9KxU/TxWXTcTzaoI/AAAAAAAABOc/08vEC8_mT8E/s320/P1000686.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">YES! In the grounds of a PALACE in the middle of <st1:city style="text-align: left;"><st1:place>Venice</st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left;">, what do we find?? A PLAYGROUND!</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dWibb51yY_s/TxWXpqOYzVI/AAAAAAAABOk/YffSYZgrPmk/s1600/P1000693.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dWibb51yY_s/TxWXpqOYzVI/AAAAAAAABOk/YffSYZgrPmk/s320/P1000693.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ihZfT3TIqsg/TxWX_-GBk5I/AAAAAAAABOs/2nWhF-uy3_E/s1600/P1000690.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ihZfT3TIqsg/TxWX_-GBk5I/AAAAAAAABOs/2nWhF-uy3_E/s320/P1000690.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-smsPQAvFYv0/TxWaztBK2JI/AAAAAAAABO0/zBagKVt3FFY/s1600/P1000699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-smsPQAvFYv0/TxWaztBK2JI/AAAAAAAABO0/zBagKVt3FFY/s320/P1000699.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Towards the end of the day, just near the train station before heading home. The newest bridge in <st1:city style="text-align: left;"><st1:place>Venice</st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: left;">.</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cn8o7eor9iI/TxWbJnbYxrI/AAAAAAAABO8/00p7LadYyms/s1600/P1000701.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cn8o7eor9iI/TxWbJnbYxrI/AAAAAAAABO8/00p7LadYyms/s320/P1000701.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Now I really must get ready because I'm meant to be picked up in a few minutes for a spritz... wish me luck, as I do intend to come back in one piece!<br />
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..And yes, thank you for the reminder - was too hasty yesterday and forgot to put in the all-important gondola count. The total was... (drumroll) 146! </div><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-16533429990185948352012-01-15T06:04:00.000+11:002012-01-15T06:04:13.194+11:00Saturday 14th January 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Our endless tour of the playgrounds of <st1:place>Europe</st1:place> continues. That's not another way of saying 'entertainment centre'... I do mean, playgrounds. Slides and swings. Today, <st1:place><st1:city>Treviso</st1:city>, <st1:country-region>Italy</st1:country-region></st1:place>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3sefoLOnDXg/TxG7ujltPKI/AAAAAAAABJw/YnSrd5cuah0/s1600/P1140029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3sefoLOnDXg/TxG7ujltPKI/AAAAAAAABJw/YnSrd5cuah0/s320/P1140029.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Our first full day in <st1:city><st1:place>Treviso</st1:place></st1:city> - yesterday was spent to a surprising extent on the 'road' (tracks, road, whatever) from <st1:city><st1:place>Zagreb</st1:place></st1:city>. The visit to the parks was only after a pretty full morning of work, tantrum, and then a 'Whale Party', which included Alessandra, who was over (<st1:place>Mino</st1:place> wasn't up to Pin the Tail on the Whale). I believe I won the Whale Relay (name types of whale until you can't think of any more) but Lara won a surprising number of the others. There was Musical Whales, Pass the Whale, Tossing the Whale, Whale Sing and Swim, and Whale Hide and Seek, to name but a few. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">After a fair spate in the park (not that any of us nearly fell asleep on a bark bench or two, what with the buttery caress of the sun and incurable laziness) we visited one of the many local establishments skilled in procurement of beverages, hot and cold. Adults had spritz (which was remarkably intoxicating at that unseasonable hour - well I blame it on the hour, not on alcohol content, of course) and Child had a hot chocolate thick as custard, which slipped down with almost as much ease as the other drinks. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RYTh_XovyEY/TxG8cVEHYWI/AAAAAAAABKA/VbGEt1EypEg/s1600/P1140037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RYTh_XovyEY/TxG8cVEHYWI/AAAAAAAABKA/VbGEt1EypEg/s320/P1140037.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Always engage in a leaf-fight when having an afternoon drink. It helps the digestion of accompanying crisps. </div><br />
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</div> Look carefully at this picture and you'll see that Lara's in the middle of throwing a paper aeroplane. She was doing this all the way home: meant it took so long to get back I was nearly sober by the time we arrived. OK, that's an exaggeration. No-where near sober.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">First morning over Treviso. I mean, first morning for us. First morning in Treviso makes it sounds almost Biblical. </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">We came back to irresistible scrambled eggs and smoked salmon, and an even less resistible selection of cheeses. If I don't put some weight on here there's no hope for me. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Of course, there's FRIDAY 13th, which was our travelling day - much to the Woofie's horror. The bus from </span><st1:city style="font-size: medium;"><st1:place><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Zagreb</span></st1:place></st1:city><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> left at </span><st1:time hour="8" minute="0" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">8am</span></st1:time><span style="font-size: 12pt;">: not all that early, really, by our recent standards. Here's Lara on the bus. It </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">was judged even superior to the train. She is becoming quite a seasoned traveller.</span></div></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2c6AdvjX-gQ/TxG9cRukcaI/AAAAAAAABKg/3sKWgJjyYQ4/s1600/P1130007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2c6AdvjX-gQ/TxG9cRukcaI/AAAAAAAABKg/3sKWgJjyYQ4/s320/P1130007.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">The Woofie and Whaley met us at Padova, which is where the bus stopped closest to <st1:city><st1:place>Treviso</st1:place></st1:city>. Poor things had not been able to drive because of the combined effects of Fog, Lack of Parking and Confusing Padova, so they'd already spent ages either waiting on platforms or changing trains and had missed out on seeing the Scrovenni Chapel by the time we saw them. However, the train trip back was a hoot, if slightly slow. Sorry, can't resist posting this one... Woofie's expression is actually because of a train passing ours but it's almost impossible not to think of several alternative captions. </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Back at home, among other entertainment there was a stack of presents for us, including a hat for the Littles in the shape of a husky, which she is delighted with. Well, I think it's a husky, others consider it might be either a cat or a skunk. Unbelievably, she also received a remote-controlled helicopter. 'Unbelievable' because this precise item was a late addition to her Christmas wish-list which Santa hadn't been able to fulfil. She is shockingly adept at piloting it, despite warnings on the packet that it's not for children under the age of 14. </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9fdUQm0_Hfw/TxHG3fDO8DI/AAAAAAAABKw/ud9RyBPSH3Y/s1600/P1140017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9fdUQm0_Hfw/TxHG3fDO8DI/AAAAAAAABKw/ud9RyBPSH3Y/s320/P1140017.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Spot Lara, 'Perfectly Hidden.' </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Must go now, dinner time. Shucks!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046689605035834751.post-4295174105252140822012-01-13T03:04:00.000+11:002012-01-13T03:04:01.871+11:001st January 2012 - from Belgrade Zoo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fmLHuXXIQIU/Tw7_EWSbLuI/AAAAAAAABH4/3b_7co57Ih8/s1600/IMG_0662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" kba="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fmLHuXXIQIU/Tw7_EWSbLuI/AAAAAAAABH4/3b_7co57Ih8/s320/IMG_0662.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9av20BsbVYw/Tw7-UE48HMI/AAAAAAAABHg/Ll3BSA_Mqt4/s1600/IMG_0622.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" kba="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9av20BsbVYw/Tw7-UE48HMI/AAAAAAAABHg/Ll3BSA_Mqt4/s320/IMG_0622.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fmLHuXXIQIU/Tw7_EWSbLuI/AAAAAAAABH4/3b_7co57Ih8/s1600/IMG_0662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iMttoiYfXCA/Tw7_PLOZ-LI/AAAAAAAABIA/H5Q52J9v2Q4/s1600/P1010007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" kba="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iMttoiYfXCA/Tw7_PLOZ-LI/AAAAAAAABIA/H5Q52J9v2Q4/s320/P1010007.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lara's impression of a Little Owl</div><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0