The Eternal City

Time for another retrospective travel post. This time we’re off to Rome, the venerated capital of Italy. I first visited this city in September 1990. At the time, I was backpacking through Europe with Dean Keiller, a Victorian sheep farmer. For three months, we used a flexible Eurail Youth Pass to visit 12 countries (and a few more after the ticket expired).

Our journey to Rome began in a rather unorthodox manner. Weeks earlier, Dean had discovered that his cousin was travelling in Italy as a Contiki tour guide. We scheduled our time in Florence to coincide with her arrival in town. Much to our surprise, when Dean caught up with her, she offered to collect us from our campground and take us with her to the Eternal City.

Her bus, filled with fare-paying travellers, duly arrived shortly after breakfast on 15 September. She greeted us with strict instructions regarding a cover story she’d shared with the group. We were Contiki staff tasked with researching facilities for camping-based tours. Once on board, Dean and I gamely played our part, regaling the curious crowd with stories of our detailed research, aka, our Eurail adventures to date.

Dean’s cousin subsequently arranged a complimentary hotel room for our first night in Rome. She reassured us that the hotel regularly offered free rooms to Contiki staff under an annual contract. We then transferred to a local campground located some distance out of town for the remainder of our stay. Thanks to Dean’s cousin, we spent our first full day in Rome visiting Vatican City. She took us with her tour group to the Vatican Museum, where we placed our backpacks in storage and spent the day exploring the museum, St. Peter's Basilica and neighbourhoods north of the Tiber River.

The Vatican Museum was an eye-opener. The artwork and precious items on display were beyond belief. It quickly became apparent how wealthy the Catholic Church had become as century after century passed. Room after room hosted all manner of priceless Renaissance artwork, including The Transfiguration by Raphael, a stunning four-metre-tall masterpiece.

We both loved the spiralling Bramante Staircase. If you look closely, you’ll spot me at the bottom striking a pose. This staircase is a double helix, featuring two staircases that facilitate uninterrupted pedestrian flow. People can ascend via one spiral without meeting people descending on the other. Very clever!

Equally memorable was the Sistine Chapel. Nothing prepares you for the majesty of this fresco-covered sanctuary. Our visit coincided with the final stages of a massive decade-long restoration project that began in 1984. During our visit, the chapel’s altar wall was completely enclosed by scaffolding. The temporary structure was clad with a reproduction of The Last Judgement, the stunning artwork hidden from view. I finally got to see this masterpiece 13 years later when Garry and I visited Rome in 2003.

The chapel’s ceiling was every bit as magnificent as posters and reproductions would have you believe. I couldn’t believe that I was standing there with a kink in my neck, looking up at the Lord’s outstretched hand, the most iconic scene in the Creation of Adam, possibly one of the world’s most recognisable works of art. The three images above were all taken years later, when Garry and I visited.

However, the most memorable moment for me came as Dean and I walked through the gift shop. Dean pointed to a postcard depicting the Creation of Adam, commenting that he’d missed this iconic image. I turned to him and said, “It’s in the middle of the ceiling.” He responded, telling me that he hadn’t looked at the ceiling. He thought the artwork on the walls was the chapel’s focal point.

I was stunned. I marched him back to the exit door, explained to the security guard on duty that he’d failed to look up at the chapel ceiling and insisted that he let him back in to see it. The guard relented. I waited half an hour for Dean to retrace his steps and enjoy the ceiling in all its glory. To this day, I still regale others with the story of my friend who never saw the chapel’s ceiling.

The rest of our afternoon was spent exploring St. Peter's Basilica and the dramatic, collonaded surrounds of Piazza San Pietro. The size and scale of the Basilica were truly breathtaking. However, the opulence of the entire complex beggared belief. I couldn’t fathom how centuries of everyday followers of Christ could reconcile such decadent displays of wealth while they lived harsh and impoverished lives.

We collected our backpacks from the museum cloakroom, paid one last visit to Piazza San Pietro, and then headed 8 km out of town to the local camping ground. We based ourselves here for the next three nights, catching a bus into town every morning and back again late afternoon. We ran into a nun as we were preparing to leave the Vatican. It was her first visit to Rome, having dreamt of this moment her entire life. We invited her to join us for a photo with fellow newbies. That's the image which opens this post.

Like all good tourists, we spent the next few days ticking off one iconic sight after another. This included a visit to the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, and Palatine Hill. I loved Palatine Hill, largely because we got to walk around Circus Maximus, the city’s former chariot racing stadium. Dean and I imagined ourselves as gladiators in the spirit of Charlton Heston in the Oscar-winning movie, Ben-Hur. 

Visitors could pay a fee to explore the ruins of former Roman palaces that dominate Palatine Hill. However, as budget-conscious backpackers, Dean and I passed on the opportunity. Garry and I would finally visit this complex years later.  However, we did fork out some hard cash to explore the interior of the Colosseum. Standing in its upper tier, looking down over the exposed undercoft was undoubtedly another one of those unforgettable pinch-me moments.

Likewise, I still recall marvelling at the engineering prowess of the Romans while exploring the Pantheon, and like so many before us, we visited the Trevi Fountain. I can’t recall if we tossed a coin, hoping to return someday. I guess we did, as I ultimately returned 13 years later.  Likewise, we visited the Spanish Steps, climbed Janiculum Hill to enjoy its panoramic view, and wandered the eclectic streets of Trastevere.

On 19 September, Dean and I packed up our tent and headed for the station. Our next destination was Greece. I’d mapped out an ambitious itinerary that would take us to Pompei, then on to the southeast coast of Italy, where we’d board an overnight ferry and visit Corfu, before finally reaching the shores of Greece. You follow these adventures, starting with Pompei, by following this link.

Although I will share one quick anecdote about this marathon journey. The ferry to Corfu was an adventure of its own. The cheapest ticket you could buy gave you a hardback seat on the outdoor deck.  However, the crew allowed passengers to sleep on the deck as they crossed the Adriatic Sea. As a result, Dean and I joined forces with a group of other backpackers, scouted out a secluded, sheltered spot on the open deck, unfurled our foam sleeping mat and spent the night sleeping under the stars. A quick internet search reveals that you can still do this more than 35 years later. I'm surprised EU regulations haven't outlawed this practice years ago.

Firenze

Let’s step back in time again. Florence has always been one of those “must-see” destinations on my bucket list. I finally got to experience this world-renowned epicentre of Renaissance art and culture while backpacking through Europe with my friend Dean in 1990. Florence proved every bit as memorable as we’d hoped.

On 12 September, we leveraged our Eurail pass to secure discounted train tickets that took us across the Italian peninsula from Venice to Florence. After an uneventful journey via Bologna, we reached Florence early afternoon and made our way to a camping ground on the city’s outskirts.

For the next three days, we explored the city’s iconic highlights. This included a mandatory visit to Galleria dell'Accademia, home to Michelangelo’s awe-inspiring statue of David. This imposing 5.2-metre-high marble figure is every bit as spectacular in real life as it is in books and magazines. It’s hard to believe it was carved from a single slab.

The statue is in surprisingly good condition despite spending 369 years standing outdoors in Piazza della Signoria, the seat of civic government in Florence. It was moved indoors in 1873 after fine cracks were discovered in its left leg and foot. Experts attributed them to an unstable foundation, placing uneven stress across its limbs.

David attracts quite a crowd. Despite visiting during the shoulder season, the elegantly domed hall displaying this immortalised biblical figure was constantly abuzz with people. Dean and I waited patiently for some time before capturing the crowd-free images you see above. I’d hate to think what it’s like at the height of Summer.

We later discovered a replica statue of David standing outside Palazzo Vecchio, in Piazza della Signoria. This knockoff was installed in 1910. It was one of several replicas we encountered around the city during our stay.

Our next stop was the Uffizi Gallery, undoubtedly the world’s most famous museum of Renaissance art. We spent more than half a day exploring its iconic courtyard, gilded rooms and hallways, marvelling at one masterpiece after another. Room after room read like a who’s who of Italian Renaissance artists, with works by Giottino, Botticelli, Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael and Titian, plus Rubens and Rembrandt.

Without a doubt, the most memorable work of art was The Birth of Venus, by Sandro Botticelli. I couldn’t believe I was seeing his newly born goddess standing in all her glory with my own eyes. The work is enormous, spanning 2.79 metres, and 1.72 metres high. The giant scallop shell she stands in is almost a metre wide.

I also recall how deeply appreciative I was of my Christian missionary adventures up to that point. Biblical themes dominated much of the artwork on display. As a result, a deep and rich knowledge of the bible and its stories brought many of these pieces to life in a more meaningful way. For example, Caravaggio’s dark and confronting Sacrifice of Isaac was far more compelling, having studied Chapter 22 in the Book of Genesis many times.

Equally memorable was Duomo di Firenze, the striking candy-striped Cathedral of Florence, which dominates the old city’s skyline. Its construction, started in 1296, was finally completed when its eye-catching, red-tiled dome was installed in 1436. I found the concept of a multi-generational construction project utterly fascinating. It’s hard to conceive of this kind of enduring commitment given how swiftly most modern structures are built. Wandering through its unbelievably ornate interior, you quickly appreciate why it took more than a century to build.

We made the most of our time at the Duomo by buying tickets to climb its massive dome. To reach a compact outdoor balcony atop the dome, we had to climb a leg-numbing 463 steps. However, the route to the top is amazing. It takes you to an internal balcony offering a head-spinning view across the central nave, and then up to a breathtaking 360-degree panoramic view of Florence. That’s me at the top of the dome in the image that opens this post. If you look carefully, you’ll see Giotto's Bell Tower (Campanile) in the background.

Nearby, in the Basilica di Santa Croce (another church with an equally ornate neo-Gothic white marble exterior), we stumbled upon the tomb of Galileo Galilei and the unbelievably elaborate tomb of Michelangelo. Both tombs are shown above. It was mind-blowing to find myself standing before the final resting place of these historical giants. Even more so, considering we’d just witnessed Michelangelo’s unforgettable statue of David. We also spotted the tomb of Machiavelli, one of Italy’s more pragmatic historical figures.

Ponte Vecchio was equally fascinating. It’s known best for the Vasari Corridor, a secret 16th-century passageway that runs along the top of the bridge, linking Palazzo Vecchio with the Palazzo Pitti. It was designed to allow Duke Cosimo I de' Medici, the city-state’s ruler, to move undisturbed between both palaces. The secret corridor also passes through the Uffizi. Dean and I passed on the opportunity to walk it from the Uffizi to the south bank of the Arno River. The experience cost extra money, which we decided was better spent on other things. Although the view of the bridge from inside the Uffizi was a decent compromise.

No trip to Florence is complete without crossing the River Arno and climbing the hill of San Miniato to Piazzale Michelangelo (Michelangelo Square). This broad terrace offered an unforgettable panoramic view, plus another replica statue of David. The view is iconic, with easy-to-spot landmarks like the Duomo, River Arno, and Ponte Vecchio. Looking out across a sea of red terracotta roofs was another one of those pinch-me moments.

On 15 September, Dean and I packed up our tent, ready to move on to Rome. However, the transport we organised was rather unorthodox. Weeks earlier, Dean had discovered that his cousin was travelling in Northern Italy. At the time, she was a Contiki tour guide and was escorting a group from Florence to Rome. She offered to collect us from the campground and take us with her to the Eternal City.

Her bus, filled with fare-paying travellers, duly arrived shortly after breakfast. She greeted us with strict instructions on a cover story she’d shared with the group. We were Contiki staff tasked with researching facilities for a camping-based tour of Italy. Once on board, Dean and I gamely played our part, regaling the curious crowd with stories of our detailed research, aka, our Eurail adventures to date.

Dean’s cousin subsequently arranged a complimentary hotel room for our first night in Rome, followed by a subsidised tour of the Vatican Museum the following day. My brief stint as a Contiki researcher certainly had its merits! 

Learn more about our adventure in Rome here.

Venice for the first time

Venice is a magical place. There’s something about this aquatic city that instantly captivates every first-time visitor. It's like walking into a fairy tale. Elegant Byzantine marble facades greet you at every turn. Picturesque cobblestone pavements and gracefully arched bridges tempt you down shaded lanes and along water-side paths. As for its iconic canals, they churn with vessels of all descriptions in constant motion. Venice is simultaneously static, timeless and alive.

I visited this former mercantile city-state for the first time while backpacking through Europe in 1990. At the time, I was travelling with Dean Keiller, a Victorian sheep farmer, on a Eurail Youth pass. We arrived in Venice in the late afternoon on 7 September after travelling from Munich via the Brenner Pass.

For five days, we stayed at a campground in Fusina, a coastal town on the edge of the Venetian Lagoon. It was by far the cheapest option, with a nearby ferry wharf providing quick and easy access to Venice. Every morning, we took the ferry to Zattere, where we disembarked onto Rio Terà Foscarini, a street leading directly to Ponte dell'Accademia, one of three bridges crossing the Grand Canal.

The image opening this post was our first sighting of a canal in Venice. We literally walked around a corner from Calle Larga Nani, a side street off Rio Terà Foscarini, and stumbled upon this truly iconic view of the Cannaregio Canal. This is exactly what Venice is like. Around every corner lies something unexpected that either inspires or delights. The photo above shows the Grand Canal at sunset. Just another of the numerous Instagram moments we experienced.

According to the guidebooks, Venice comprises 116 islands, 177 canals, and 423 bridges. Dean and I filled our time exploring as many as we could, walking from one end of the city to the other. Along the way, we took in all manner of traditional tourist highlights, including the elegant white marble arch of the Rialto Bridge and the majestic Piazza San Marco, also known as St Mark's Square. Like all good tourists, we visited St. Mark's Basilica, the city’s famous 12th-century cathedral, admired its pilfered bronze Byzantine horses and ventured up its landmark red brick bell tower.

Getting into the bell tower required some planning. Our first attempt was thwarted by a queue stretching out the door and through the plaza. We decided to beat the crowd and returned first thing the following morning to purchase a midday tour ticket. As you can see above, the view was well worth the effort. The red-tiled roofs were breathtaking, as was the unobstructed view of Basilica Santa Maria della Salute with its stunning white marble dome.

We both loved Basilica Santa Maria della Salute. It’s a baroque-style church with a unique octagonal design decorated with 12 works by Titian. You’re also treated to a spectacular view of the Grand Canal, St Mark's Square and the island of San Giorgio Maggiore from Fondamenta Salute, a promenade that marks the start of the Grand Canal.

As penny-pinching backpackers, we decided against taking one of the gondola rides relentlessly touted to passing tourists. Instead, we spent our days catching the city’s vaporetti, or public ferry boats, which traverse its canals like buses on a city street. A Vaporetto literally took you anywhere you wanted to go. As a result, we visited Arsenale di Venezia, the city’s Byzantine shipyard; Murano, the island of glass-blowing artisans; and Lido, the barrier island that protects the lagoon.

Venice was a surprisingly expensive location. We discovered this very early on after retracing our steps one afternoon to grab lunch at a quaint restaurant we’d spotted earlier in the day. It was a tiny, hole-in-the-wall venue with concertina doors opening onto a cantilevered canal-side balcony. However, waterside dining does not come cheap. We took one look at the menu posted outside and decided a local pizzeria would do just fine.

The experience of retracing our steps was eye-opening. Dean and I had spotted this restaurant mid-morning while wandering its lanes and canal-side paths. An hour or so later, we decided it would be the perfect lunch venue. I then retraced our steps, lane by lane, from memory until we reached the spot where we’d originally seen the restaurant.

Dean was flabbergasted that I could recall every twist and turn of our walking route. Until that moment, I’d never appreciated that this was a unique skill. I naturally assumed anyone could do what I had just done. Sadly, my short-term memory is no longer as sharp, and so this navigational talent now eludes me. What is it they say about youth being wasted on the young?

As a once-powerful city-state, Venice is filled with all manner of ornate and imposing churches. Dean and I visited plenty of them, marvelling at their decadence and ostentatious excess. However, every so often, a venue would surprise us. San Giorgio Maggiore Church was one of them. Its grand white marble façade hints at decorative overkill inside. 

However, the interior, while grand and imposing, is relatively minimalist in nature. I loved it. The photos above were taken when Garry and I visited the church with Garry’s parents in April 2007. Every other image posted here comes from my Kodak-era photo album.

After five days of pounding the pavement in Venice, Dean and I packed up our pup tent and headed west. We caught a local train to Florence on 12 September, ready to kick off our next backpacking adventure, which included an impromptu gig as a fake Contiki Tour inspector. I reveal all in this next post.

Pompeii and Pisa

It's retrospective post time again. Back in 1990, a Eurail Youth pass was an incredibly inexpensive and effective means of travel. Overnight trains, including sleeper trains, were common, and trains linked major cities with surprisingly high frequency. As a result, you could reach almost any European location with a railway station with ease and schedule your travel to maximise the ground you covered without compromise.

Dean Keiller and I used a 15-day flexi pass to explore Europe in the Summer of 1990. You could use these days whenever you wished on almost any train within three months. The pass also included conditions that offered incredible flexibility. For example, you could board a train in the evening to another city, and only the following day would count as a ticketed travel day. I don’t recall the details, but I imagine this flexibility was limited to trains departing after a certain time.

Likewise, you could get off a train at an intermediary stop and spend time sightseeing before continuing to your destination. The only caveat was that you had to arrive before midnight to avoid using a second day on your Eurail pass.

I made good use of this flexibility several times. For example, we got off the train between Stockholm and Copenhagen to explore Gothenburg, and again between Copenhagen and Munich, where we spent several hours exploring Hamburg. However, my scheduling skills came to the fore while traversing the length of Italy.

First, on 19 September, we squeezed in a half-day exploring the buried city of Pompeii while travelling to Brindisi to catch an overnight ferry to Corfu. Then, upon returning to Brindisi, on 25 September, we stopped for several hours in Pisa while en route to Zurich. I timed our stopovers to perfection. Dean and I later agreed that we’d had ample time for everything we’d wanted to see in each location.

Pompeii was fascinating. As we all know, the city was buried under metres of volcanic ash and pumice during the eruption of nearby Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD. Its deadly covering preserved the city for the next two millennia until a major excavation in the 1950s. Pompeii was a wealthy town containing up to 20,000 residents at the time it was destroyed. As a result, its ruins offer a unique snapshot of Roman life at the very moment it was buried.

To get ourselves oriented, Dean and I walked Via dell'Abbondanza, the main street in Pompeii, marvelling at its truncated marble pillars and abandoned buildings. A visitor’s map helped us locate many of the paved thoroughfares’ popular attractions, including preserved mosaic tile floors and walls decorated by frescoes in some of the wealthiest homes.  The streetscape above was sourced from the web.

The final image of Dean above was taken in the Basilica, a covered complex that acted as the local law court, and possibly a mercantile trading exchange. It sits on the edge of the city's expansive Roman Forum piazza. According to archaeologists, the Basilica was a hive of activity with large numbers of people bustling about their daily business. Evidence of this is visible in the hundreds of examples of graffiti, including some particularly vulgar expressions, scratched onto its walls. 

Without a doubt, a highlight for both of us was the remains of residents who'd been buried by the ash. I’d heard so much about these uniquely preserved bodies. Curiously, these crude statue-like figures aren’t actual bodies. They’re plaster reproductions created by filling cavities left in the hardened ash long after the original corpse has decayed. 

I was surprised by how few victims were on display, only three or four at best. Likewise, their condition was equally disappointing. We stumbled across them without any fanfare, stored in a rather dusty building housing all manner of artefacts, including rows of clay amphorae. In the decades since, if online images are accurate, the archaeological park has dramatically improved the quality of these exhibits.

The Amphitheatre of Pompeii was also particularly memorable. It is one of the oldest surviving Roman amphitheatres in the ancient world. It once seated 20,000 spectators. Unlike many earlier stadiums, it was built entirely of stone, rather than timber. The amphitheatre was first partially excavated in 1748. It was later completely excavated between 1813 and 1816. 

However, even today, much of its tiered seating remains partially overgrown by soil, shrubs and grass. As a result, you feel like you’re an explorer stumbling across an ancient ruin for the first time. Interestingly, much of the vegetation we saw has been excavated in more recent years.  I count myself lucky enough to have seen it in a more atmospheric state. The first image shown above was taken by me, the second was pulled from the Internet.

Our return journey via Pisa proved equally memorable. This time we caught an overnight train to Florence, before transferring early morning onto a local train bound for Pisa. Like all good tourists, we disembarked at the main train station and made our way across the Arno River to Piazza del Duomo.  The walk along Via Rome takes about half an hour. For the most part, it’s a fairly unremarkable walk until you reach the Duomo.  I still recall how excited we were upon entering the piazza and seeing the Leaning Tower of Pisa for the first time. Its collonaded white marble facade looks exactly as it does in all those iconic photographs.

We were equally stunned by the carefully manicured lawn surrounding the piazza's three main buildings. Elsewhere in Europe, the entrance to a church was typically marked by a paved plaza. However, on this occasion, the vivid green expanse that greeted us was the perfect foil for these dazzling white buildings.

However, we didn't climb the famous bell tower. It had been closed to the public nine months earlier as a major engineering project designed to stabilise the structure and prevent its collapse got underway. According to Wikipedia, more than a decade was spent carefully removing 38 cubic metres of soil from underneath its higher end. The tower's tilt was ultimately reduced by 45 centimetres. The tower eventually reopened to the public in December 2001 and was declared stable for another 300 years.

Naturally, we took an obligatory image of us diligently propping up the bell tower.  That's the image of me which opens this post. Dean and I also took time to explore the neighbouring cathedral and the baptistry. The piazza was largely crowd-free thanks to some rather damp and overcast weather. While it was great to experience Pisa without the crowds, we never did see the famous white marble facades glistening in the sunlight. I'd finally see them on a sunny day, almost two decades later.

One final observation. It took some careful planning to get to Pisa. We initially caught a long-distance train from Brindisi to Bologna, then transferred onto a regional train to Florence, before transferring a final time onto a local train bound for Pisa. Once our sightseeing was done, we retraced our steps to Bologna and rejoined the long-distance train to Zurich. Remember that all of this was planned while we were on the road in an era before the Internet or personal computing devices. Instead, we used nothing more than a printed DL-sized timetable book, a folded map, a notebook and a pen.

With Pisa ticked off our bucket list, it was back onto the train for a journey back through the Alps to Zurich. Follow this link to learn more about our time in Switzerland.

When in Rome

Here’s more about the vacation in Rome that Garry and I enjoyed in 2003. You’ll recall that our first full day in the City of Seven Hills involved a lengthy walking tour of its central districts. On the following day, we focused our attention on the Vatican City. This included visiting its acclaimed Vatican Museum, the Basilica of St Peters, and the colonnaded expanse of Piazza San Pietro. 

As all good tourists do, we explored all of the Vatican’s most popular sights including Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling, the spiraling Bramante Staircase, Madonna della Pietà and the crusader-plundered Egyptian obelisk in the heart of Piazza San Pietro. Naturally, I raced down the Bramante Staircase for a classic “look at me” photo opportunity.

Our visit to the Sistine Chapel was my second. I’d seen it previously while backpacking in Europe in 1990. However, at the time, a fresco of The Last Judgment which fills the chapel’s west wall was hidden by a canvas shroud as it underwent restoration. During this second visit, I finally saw Michelangelo’s spectacular fresco in all its glory. 

It was well worth the wait (and undoubtedly was a far better experience post-restoration). Likewise, the majesty of the chapel’s iconic “Creation of Adam” ceiling left us in awe. Gazing up at one of the world's most replicated religious paintings really is one of those “pinch me” moments. The photo above simply doesn’t do it justice.

However, our most memorable moment of the day happened while soaking up the view at Piazza San Pietro.  As we stood under its curving colonnade, one of Rome's notoriously ubiquitous pigeons chose that moment to dump a load on my head.  I swore like a drunken sailor, and as I did, turned to find a sweet old nun bearing witness to my colourful expletives.

Our final day in Rome saw us exploring the Coloseum from top to bottom and weaving our way through the Roman Forum's extensive ruins. I'd missed some of these ruins during my first visit as a backpacker and thus was able to cross more off my tourist bucket list. Highlights included the bowels of the imposing Flavian Palace and the dusky bowl of Circus Maximus forever immortalised by Charlton Heston's spectacular chariot race in the 1959 movie, Ben Hur. 

We also took an excursion across town to climb the Spanish Steps. This sweeping symmetrical staircase, considered Rome's traditional meeting place, was immortalised by Audrey Hepburn in the 1953 movie, Roman Holiday. Although it's somewhat ironic that these days local authorities do everything they can to dissuade people from lingering on the stairs. Sitting on them currently attracts a 400 euro fine.

We rounded off the day with another visit to the Trevi Fountain. I’d like to note that, for the record, we tossed a coin into its midst to ensure we’d return someday. However, twenty years on, our wish has yet to be fulfilled. 

Our European holiday finished with a five-day stopover in Singapore. Here I spent time working before finally returning to Sydney.  We flew in on 18 July, did the tourist thing over a weekend, and then flew out again on 23 July. 

While I worked Garry made himself comfortable by the pool at the Merchant Court Hotel in Clarke Quay.  He also joined me and Text 100's Singapore staff on Tuesday evening for a traditional Black Pepper and Chilli Crab feast. The team took us to one of its favourite crab venues, Jumbo Seafood in the East Coast Seafood Centre, where I've dined many times over the years.

However, it was my antics that once again created the stopover's most memorable moment. During our Singapore Airlines red-eye to Singapore, I took a sleeping pill with dinner to help me sleep. However, I timed its consumption poorly.  By the time dessert arrived, I was struggling to stay awake. Then, much to Garry's amusement, while eating my ice cream, I passed out mid-spoonful.

Who'd have guessed that our humble Italian vacation would kick off another two decades of globe-trotting adventures? In the years since we’ve stepped foot on every continent while visiting almost 70 countries along the way.