day five - we hit the brick wall at saumur

Approaching the 3,000 kilometres and reaching the limits....The weather and scenery is pleasant enough but not the mood. Away from the autoroutes, the landscape and mansions are superb as I head for Nevers (wasn’t that the town which figured in Hiroshima Mon Amour?).
After Bourges, I pick up the signs for Nantes – but still 300 kilometres away so clearly it’s going to be a very long haul to make in one day.
At Saumur, we pull out of the last autoroute at 15.00 and find immediately a helpful tourist information. A chambre d’hotes with internet connection is our priority – and we find just what we need spiritually as well in the village of Allonnes at Le Grand Logis dthomann@wanadoo.fr
Words can’t do justice to the calm and civility we found with the Thomann family – in a house on the main street which seemed 2 centuries old but which was apparently built be an American lady 80 years earlier. Our room gave on to a patio behind which stretched a large garden full of trees. The sun was shining strongly as we made a fruitless search for a restaurant in the vicinity. Frustrating to go through so many degustations and be unable to imbibe! But a trip to the supermarket boosted the fare we then ate al fresco on the patio – on the table which had just been cleaned from winter ware. And the red Slovenian wine and Italian aqua de vita was shared with the Thomann’s who reciprocated with red Chinon wine and a powerful 1997 home-brewn l’eau de vie. The conversation was good! And the repast so much better than any we could have had in a restaurant.

Day four - the Frejus tunnel and the rhone valley

Despite the fatigue of the previous day, I was up early to catch the magic hill town before it stirred. And to capture some of the sights and angles on camera. Quite amazing that a church with such a long naive can grace the grounds of a hill town!
We were in no hurry to leave – had a leisurely coffee in a cafe which seemed to act more as a cultural centre and hive of village activity.

Then at 10.00 back on the autostrada which became increasingly gloomy and busy as we approached Milan. Thereafter the traffic lessened as we passed Turin and we were almost alone as we headed into the mist-shrouded mountains. Our target was the Frejus tunnel – reached with about 5 previous tunnels of 2-6 kilometre length. The Frejus tunnel is 13.8 km long – and cost a hefty 37 euros!
Then, suddenly, it was the French radio; the end of the banter and the return of serious conversation and music! But French road tolls seem even more expensive. We sailed round Chambery and on to Lyon and the rhone valley. I was aiming for Macon but we came off at Villefranche – where it was really difficult to find accommodation. Best Western offered 80 euros and no breakfast. A nasty room above a pub cost 43. We searched around the station area to no avail – and eventually found a motel-type place just next to the poll booth for 50 euros. What a contrast the room was from the Soave room! The hotel was, however, located in a park – with all the fragrances of the countryside. We dined on bread, tasty Italian salami, Romanian cheese and Soave wine. And then, with a sniff of grappa, to bed!

Day three - through Slovenia, a Trieste encounter and a step back in time

Day three started early – by 08.00 we were on the motorway crossing into Slovenia without actually noticing. Pulled in guiltily 30 kilomtres later to but a vignette to be legit driving on thier roads. Then into Maribo – for a quick drive around - Surprised to find that we were in a euros zone! So some purchases of Slovene wines.
Llyubiana was not a success - we hit it when the civil servants were taking their lunch. And the strong bean soup was too much for our weakened stomachs.
The idea had been to stay at Trieste - but by now the enormity of our journey was beginning to dawn on us - so we decided to press further to Treviso perhaps.
At Trieste we hit pure Italian pantomime - with 2 young men unable to tell us where we cd access the auotostrada. The issue was determined by a leather-jacketed woman who countermanded the male instructions.
Veneto proved to be a longer route than I had imagined. But the becastled skyline suddenly caught our attention at Soave. As we entered its walls, Agroturism advertised itself and was eventually found via a dirtrack which snaked through vineyards and up steep incclines. It was charming but expensive at 65 euros and challenging in its location. So Back to Soave where we found perfection just inside the castle wall.
The inn had apparently been such for centuries – with the large restaurant being the place for the horses. Our room on the first floor was reached via a hallway with massive beam roofing and located next to the old wall fortification which surrounds the town. Its fittings gave a delightful 17th century ambiance – particularly the creaking old oak cupboard. And dinner was tasty and sociable – with a great conversation with dapper Jean Piatro – whose initial friendly advice on the restaurant and whose ubiquity led me to take for the owner - seemed to have been as nomadic as me in his life. Now semi-retired, he spends 3 days doing some sort of work in the town and uses the inn as his base.
And Soave is, of course, where the famous wine comes from – and our English word suave!
Amazingly this village town is not in rough guide!!

through Hungary on day 2

End of day 5 – with 3,100 kilometres on the clock and another 300 kilometres probably between Saumur and Josselin.
The second day was very enjoyable, sunny driving in the quiet, rural southern redoubts of Hungary – with a brief foray into hilly Austro-Hungarian Pecs (we missed the minaret). A storm was brewing (in more senses than one!) as we nosed into Nagykanisza.
Difficult to sense any accomodation - a promised tourist bureau never materialised and we cruised around for about half an hour before we found an excellent large room in a central hotel which gave the sense of having been a Ministry in austro-hungarian days. I found a pizzeria which offered very tasty local Cesar wine (particularly the white - Riesling). Worth buying!!

journeys

Ten hours – for a 600 kilometre journey from Romania’s capital to one of its most western city. That is, I suppose, a pretty good measure of how bad Romanian roads and road management are. First the 100 kilometre stretch of its only “Motorway” – although it’s difficult to use that term of a badly constructed 2-lane construct. Then wasting at least an hour in making 2 wrong turns at Pitesti – where M-way signs make no mention of Timisoara or Arad. The maps offer no help in working out what might be the best route – east to the Danube and the iron gorge which I vaguely remember from a journey 15 years ago or north through Hunedoara county. We compromise and take a middle route.
At least twice we are required to make very dangerous U-turns – and the spectacular road north from Trg Jiu starts with a stretch so pot-holed the traffic is reduced to a 10 kmh crawl. Other roads, we are warned, are worse!
Roads and road management, it seems to me, say a lot about a country’s spirit and administrative capacity. Think of Hitler’s autobahns, And Germanic discipline at the traffic lights. In Baku, I suggested that the utter contempt shown for pedestrians was an important index for their public admin system. Of course, while it was true that the sharing of responsibilities for Baku’s road system between 4 agencies did make action difficult, there does have to be the intent – which was missing in Baku’s plutocratic environment! Romania’s current President was Transport Minister – albeit briefly before he ran and won Bucharest City as a better stepping stone to real power. He minces no words – but I haven’t heard him talk about the scandal of his country’s transport system.

And, while we’re on the subject of travel, let me mention another internet discovery - hidden-europe

keeping traditions alive

Had a nice time visiting the Carturesti bookshop yesterday – which spreads over about 7 floors and offers delightful varieties of tea and sweets. Emerged with about 12 books - many about Bucharest. It may be a city I profess to hate – but, amongst the aggression of the traffic and monstrosities of both Ceacescu and post-modernity, are so many glimpses of superb architecture from another world. Hats off to Arcub (the Arch association) which has produced a 3rd edition of their Bucharest – architecture and modernity, an annotated guide which offers a very friendly guide to the best of the buildings in the city. 344 of them to be precise! At another level, there is the flamboyant The Romanian National Style – produced with the support of the Administration of the National Cultural Fund. It’s beautifully produced with glorious detail – often in full-page spreads. And all for less than 10 euros!
In Romanian language only is historian Adrian Majuru’s Bucuresti- diurn si nocturn – a collection of stories about people. He is one of the few who has tried to kick up a fuss about the neglect of the old buildings here.
Moving to modern times, Magda Carneci and Dan Hayon offer Bucuresti – a collection of smells – which captures, in whimsical black and white pictures, the sights a sharp-eyed walker can glimpse in the city. Amazingly, I also picked up Bucharest 2010 – survival guide for expats – which is a very useful collection of addresses and recommendations. I didn’t think the city was a place for ex-pats!
Romanian food also figured on the purchase list – I would recommend very highly the English version of Romanian dishes, wines and customs by Radu Anton Roman. A lovely collection of recipes, regional commentary and black and white pics of old Romania. A gem – worth every euro of its 15 euro price. More prosaic is A Taste of Transylvania produced by Maureen Carnell for the Hospice movement here.

My real finds I have kept to the last – first a small notebook for 2010 for craftsman and craftsmanship produced by a non-profit association dedicated to keeping alive the old building crafts. Exactly what I had been asking for while we were redoing our old house – and having the schite tiles put on the roof. Apart from the illustrations, there are lists of the masters of the various crafts (stove builders, blacksmiths etc) with their telephone numbers. Some of the names are amazing – mesteri de cuptoare; mesteri in impletituri; chirpicar; caramidar; stufar. The association website is www.ahiterra.ro
And, finally, a book about Italian cooking – but not any book – Beaneaters and bread soup – portraits and recipes from Tuscany by Lori de Mori and Jason Lowe. This must be one of the most beautiful books ever – both in its concept, language, pictures and layout. It is a real celebration not only of the simple, old cooking – but of the individual craftsmen in Tuscany who keep the tradition alive.

My thanks to Valentin Mandache and his great blog (Historic Houses of Romania) for the photograph which graces this entry. I didn't have such a picture and surfed to find one. I'm delighted to havefound such a blog.
http://historo.wordpress.com/2010/04/03/imposing-neo-romanian-style-house/

free schools?

Blogs will be rare over the next few weeks – so let me leave you with this picture of one of the views from our balcony. It was almost 2 years ago we bought our first digital camera - but only yesterday I saw fit to insert the software for the transfer of pictures to the laptop. I failed the first time - but succeeded after de-installing. I felt quite proud of myself!
The Guardian has a discussion about the idea floated in the Conservative manifesto to allow parents to set up schools – or rather to undertake a procurement process to select an organisation to run a school for them. Participants included a Swede who belongs to a private company which runs about 30 such schools in Sweden.
The manifesto commitment (regardless of its merits) raises two issues about the policy-making process in UK. Raising important ideas in this way – in the last few weeks before an election – hardly seems the best way to obtain robust and effective policies. Secondly, it’s another example of the continuing temptation of ideas and practice being parachuted into systems for sheer novelty affect – rather than emerging from a careful assessment and development of present systems. In 2002 Ross McKibbin had a powerful critique of English educational policy-making in the London Review of Books -
For those wanting to know more about the Swedish system (admittedly from a Conservative Think-Tank) see
I mentioned Jo Epstein yesterday. Here’s an interview -
Have just come across the marvellous wikigallery of paintings – the best I’ve yet encountered. A larger range of paintings than any other site I know; thematically connected; and, of course, giving the possibility of uploading your own suggestions. So its now duly inserted on the links at the right hand of this page. I came across it thanks to a reference in today’s Sunday Herald to the Scottish painter Sir James Guthrie (born apparently in my hometown!) who belonged to the painting school known as the Glasgow Boys.
I have a great passion for the Bulgarian landscape painters for the first half of the 20th century - who are simply not known outside of their country. So today I uploaded one of Mario Zhekov's paintings (which I have already used a couple of times on the blog)

A treatise on our present discontents

Today’s literary discovery – thanks to one of my favourite websites - - is an essayist called Joseph Epstein who muses about the approach of death in a very elegant yet simple essay - Symphony of a lifetime - . And some civilised reactions from readers
I googled him but found only one of his 19 books - On Friendship – which looks delightful. Amazon has a few – and I have put a couple of his collections of essays on writers in my basket.

The day has dawned bright – but still chilly. No signs here of the volcanic ash (from an Iceland volcano) which has grounded half of Europe’s planes. Political leaders are stuck all over the place – Angela Merkel having to drop into Lisbon (shades of Candide) on her way back from the States; the Portugese President in Prague; the Swedish PM apparently ruling the country by twitter in another airport! John Cleese makes a 3,500 euros taxi journey. The UK running out of fruit. Shows you the vulnerability of our systems these days.

Tony Judt’s ILL fares the Land – a treatise on our present discontents is a stunning essay by one of our best historians on how far western societies have fallen in the last 30 years in the pursuit of efficiency. Doom and gloom books are ten a penny these days – full of ecological disasters, commercial greed, academic simpletons and political pygmies. Prescriptions are rather more rare (Will Hutton and David Korton are exceptions). Probably only a historian can give us this sort of perspective on how the model of “social democracy” which seemed to have emerged a stunning victor in the ideological struggle of the 20th century so quickly was consigned, in its turn, to the waste basket. And with what catastrophic results. Of course, we have heard the story of neo-liberalism and its legacy many times before. But, generally, from journalists, economists or campaigners in a fairly strident manner. Judt suggests the story is a bit more complicated – with the new left having to shoulder considerable blame for its stress in the 1960s on “rights”. However legitimate the claims of individuals and the importance of their rights, emphasising these carries an unavoidable cost; the decline of a shared sense of purpose. Gated communities are the result.
The book’s language is simple to the point of elegance – probably because his debilitating illness required it to be transcribed from his spoken word. But the words (and chapter headings and sub-headings) reflect the vast range of his reading and knowledge. This is a very rare book in which a highly intelligent and sensitive historian takes stock of what he has learned in his life - in an effort to give the younger generation both a memory and some hope.
I was initially disappointed at the smallness of the book – but its contents and message and the format given to it by the publisher make it a book to treasure and consult for a long time to come.