Krakow, Poland (day 2)

Our room in the hotel is very nice, but also very warm, and we have no way of controlling the temperature except to open the window, which of course means inviting the sounds of Krakow old town inside 24/7. But it's not so bad. A first night's sleep when you go away is never your best night. So this morning we planned just to walk out a little today to explore the Jewish quarter. But first the buffet breakfast. Forget bacon and eggs. More like scrambled eggs, very nice, smoked sausage, selection of cereals, fruit, yoghurt, breads, cakes, cheese, ham, boiled eggs and salad. Salad for breakfast? No. Giant gherkins? Yes, if you're John. And all washed down with tea or coffee, of if you're brave John Hampton, a beetroot shot.That's a never again then. Something for everyone, that's the main thing. After receiving our fill we readied ourselves to walk down towards the river Wisla stopping off on the way to visit the Old Synagogue.

Erected around 1485 it is one of the oldest synagogues in Poland. Obviously during the world wars Germany stole items from the building. But now it stands defiant. Our visit was both enjoyable and informative. Nearby was the Jewish cemetery, now neglected and overgrown, still poignant. The architecture in the area was interesting, but in a very bad state with missing render and graffiti emblazoned on surfaces all around. We were only a short distance from Krakow centre, but what a contrast.

Back in the old town, despite a hearty breakfast, lunch beckoned. More pasta for John, more soup for Angela. On a stage amongst the market youngsters sang Christmas songs and carols. We bought authentic Turkish delight, just a small bag,  but it is so delicious we will probably return for more. And of course there are still all those meat products to consider. Looks like more walking will be required tomorrow.

This evening we took another walk out to have dinner.

Krakow, Poland

When the alarm sounded at 3am this morning Angela had already been awake at least an hour, in fact, despite us being in bed since just after seven thirty the previous evening she reckoned she'd slept for no more than 2 hours.

Fired by adrenalin, and wanting to allow plenty of time to reach Bournemouth airport, a drive of just over half an hour away, we were all set to leave by 4am. As we drove along the familiar road out of Poole, devoid of traffic at this early nerves set in. The distraction of preparing for Christmas hadn't given Angela, who doesn't like flying, much time to think about boarding an aeroplane. Lack of sleep and the sight of many passengers tucking into full English breakfasts made her feel nauseous. She just wasn't feeling in the zone, unlike those enjoying a pre flight alcoholic beverage before five in the morning. Keen to keep herself occupied she suggest we pass through security whilst it was quiet. Nothing to be worried about there, well not for her. John however caused a bit of a stir, he'd forgotten to remove his mushroom foraging knife from his rucksack and of course it was picked up on the scanner. Everything out of the bag! Despite explaining the purpose of the knife and how much it had cost, would they allow him to keep it. I think we all know the answer to that request. So an envelope and stamps were purchased from WH Smith and the very nice security lady said she would post the package back to our home address on her way home. Could have been worse, John was still fully clothed when we arrived in the departure area! 

As we boarded the Ryanair flight Angela felt a little apprehensive. The internal dimensions of the cabin seemed a little tight and she felt a little claustrophobic. But she'd boarded. Now for the three stages of flying. Take off, she wasn't so keen on. In the air with a little turbulence, not so bad and landing, what a relief. All in all a success. This was a momentous moment! Our travel plans going forward would take us to new horizons.

Now to negotiate the Polish rail system. Tickets bought, we checked with a man on the train we were heading to the right station, and he said he'd  tell us when to get off as he wanted the same stop. All going well so far. Krakow centre was bustling and noisy and once on our own we walked a labyrinth of streets until we arrived at our hotel in the old town. Despite being two hours early to check in, we were allowed into our room. Result.

Despite being exhausted we off loaded our luggage and seemed out an Italian restaurant tucked in a back street. Ordered pizza and non alcoholic lager and settled into our holiday. But after a walk around we decided a lie down for a couple if hours would be a good idea as we'd be venturing out later to the Christmas market which is only a ten minute walk away from the hotel. 

Wrapped up against a cold wind we lost ourselves amongst the many other visitors. Many of whom were English, but also Americans and Japanese. The aroma of mulled wine, laced with vodka, so best avoided, even by wine loving Angela, as being just a little too potent, filled our nostrils. All around meat sizzled on grills. Huge sausages, pork knuckle and ribs. Very tempting. But you have to be wary, the price of them is per 100g, not per piece. Still quite full from lunch Angela bought mushroom soup with pasta in it, and John pasta Bolognese. After reading food was expensive at the market we'd been reeled in, but didn't care. You only pass this way once, best to treat yourself to the full experience. Perhaps Angela will try the mulled wine before we leave. 

Poole, Dorset

With a few hours to kill before setting off to Cherbourg we once again walked along the beach. The pebbles massaged our feet as our eyes scanned the tide line for sea glass. The nearby church bells rung each quarter of an hour, ticking off our time left in France. At three o' clock we decided to begin our final journey. Marge had gotten us this far, and we didn't want to leave it to chance that she'd easily make it to Cherbourg, so we left earlier than was necessary.

Surprisingly, when we arrived at the port there were quite a few vehicles already waiting to check-in. All English. Apart from Bordeaux, we've hardly seen any other English vehicles whilst we'd been in France. The weather was overcast, which we didn't mind. It made it easier to accept we would now be back home in a few hours. Angela made the mistake of checking the weather on the Ile de Re. 19 c and sunny for ten next ten days. Turn around Marge! If only we could. As Marge was directed into place on the car ferry, it was with a heavy heart we accepted our time in France was over.

It had been a different holiday to the one we planned. Marge had tested us. But at the same time, we'd been able to spend over eight weeks in this fantastic country.

Even if we wanted to, we had no time to dwell. At eleven the next morning we had visitors arriving. As for Marge. Once she's been MOT'd, she'll undergo some work that will hopefully be minimal, not too expensive and effective, and we'll be able to report more of her antics to you again shortly.

For now, it's back to miserable, gloomy, cold, damp days and foraging. Yes, it's that time of the year again. Today John managed to fill his basket with hedgehog mushrooms, the first bounty of many this autumn.