Top 5 most beautiful places in Europe

Dubrovnik. Renaissance city of Ragusa and major rival of the venerable Republic of Venice. Tremendously pretty, it is justifiably Croatia's most visited destination. The sun glints off the broad limestone paving stones of the Plaça, polished smooth by generations of footsteps. Narrow hillside alleys of vines and laundry lead up steep steps between Venetian balconies and shuttered windows to the famous medieval walls.

I am only passing through Dubrovnik, on my way to Sarajevo. I've been here twice now, and I think it's one of the most beautiful places in the world. Having travelled to many places I don't say that lightly. Silver-coloured cliffs surrounding Dubrovnik drop into opaline water. Tall spears of mediterranean cypress tower like shepherds above flocks of bony olive trees on the karst rock.

And somehow Croatia produces stunning women—blonde jaw-droppers who would take the catwalks of Milan by storm, and probably do.

So this inevitably leads me to the following entirely subjective list:

The Solonaut's
TOP FIVE MOST BEAUTIFUL PLACES IN EUROPE

(in no particular order)

Dubrovnik, Croatia
One of the best preserved walled cities in Europe. Maybe the best. Tourism has grown considerably in the last five years, but even amid the summer throngs it is easy to find a quiet bar in a lane, such as Caffe Soul, to drink local fruit brandy to the serenade of a live guitarist or watch an evening performance of a chamber orchestra in the chapel of Saint Saviour.

Oia, Santorini, Greece
Those famous photos of Santorini—white domed chapels with blue crosses and low, square houses barnacled above an azure sea—are taken from Oia. The island bakes in a delicious heat in summer. It is the only place I have ever been tempted to kick back with a beer and a book on a deck chair by the pool to overlook the caldera. I deliberately missed my departure ferry to stay. Pronounced ee-ah, Oia is probably my personal favourite in this list, above Dubrovnik.

Venice, Italy
Go back a thousand years in time. Tall fourteenth-century Gothic buildings usher you between piazze and you walk and walk and walk, down tall lanes, between palaces and churches, over bridges and under arched overhangs, and there isn't a hint of the modern world anywhere. You get a sense of how powerfully wealthy this state once was from the vast and sumptuous collection of paintings in the Doge's Palace—one after another gilt-framed Tintoretto, Titian, Veronese. It's like feasting on too much chocolate.

The Vézère and Dordogne valleys, France
Go in October, in wool coat and scarf weather. Leaves from woods of oak turn brilliant orange, yellow and brown in autumn and flock like starlings in the wind. Chateaux stud the hills and charming villages grace the valleys, such as the riverside La Roque-Gageac, the dramatic cliff-hugging town of Rocamadour, and the magnificent medieval Sarlat-la-Canéda, where I lodged for a week in a 16th-century tower.

Lucerne, Switzerland
In late spring, Lucerne is storybook. Yellow flowers whiffling in green meadows. Shaggy highland cattle clanking cowbells. Bright sun and blue sky. Tall evergreen trees. Snowy mountains. White swans on crystal waters. It's ridiculous.

Europe 2011

The Lead Line is stirring from slumber below deck as Europe returns on the horizon.

This year, beginning in mid-June, the feature country and starting point will be Turkey. After three weeks of horseback trekking, Roman ruins and dental surgery, I'll move onto finding Atlantis in the Greek islands, whitewater rafting in one of the world's deepest canyons in Montenegro, and discovering what there is to discover in Romania and Bulgaria.

The End

And now, the end of the 2009 European odyssey.

I am expecting the inevitable question: “Happy to be home?”  If it has to be yes or no, then it’s no.  I could keep going.  I would love to keep going.  Constant travelling is a little taxing, but I haven’t reached exhaustion.

Nevertheless, it will be a relief not to think about language anymore, to speak fluently and be understood.

All things end.  But this is only the end of the second chapter.  Good travel has three phases: the first is planning, when the possibilities excite and the anticipation builds; the second is execution, the trip itself, when plans come to fruition or lead in unexpected directions.

Now begins the synopsis.  Trawling through nine thousand photographs.  Developing.  Discarding.  Revisiting notes and blog entries, and assembling articles.  Digging out an old brochure to check the name of that church in Portugal, or a receipt to report the cost of a beer in Seville.  And beginning work on my next book of photography.

Over the coming months, as I select and develop my best photos, I will post them online.  Updates to this blog will be less frequent than they have been during the trip, but check back now and again to see what new photos are available.

Language

In major cities, it’s easy to get by with English.  Too easy.  Speaking foreign languages is one of the joys of travel.  Too many English-speaking tourists turn up in Venice or Paris and speak English.  You can't.  That's cheating.  Aussies are as guilty of this as Americans or the Brits.  You’ve got to make an effort.

But the effort does become draining, and the language barrier is isolating.  Spaniards are reticent to speak anything other than Spanish, and in provincial Andalucía you won’t get much else.  Luckily, my basis in French gets me by with Spanish, and it is probably my favourite language to try to speak.

In Bruges, English is so widely spoken it could be considered a second language after their Flemish Dutch (the national language of French is equally well-spoken, though pride is at stake due to wars with France).

Portugal and England share the oldest alliance in history, and English is widespread in urban areas of Portugal.  It is sporadic in rural areas.  The elderly, urban or rural, don't speak it at all.

My biggest surprise was Croatia, which easily has the most widespread English of all the countries I toured.  It is taught to children in school from young, and the standard is high.  This was a bit of a relief, because I have no knowledge of any Slavic language.  I was out of luck when I found that just over the border in Montenegro, English is not spoken at all, and I had to depend on my Croatian phrase book (for sensitive cultural and political reasons, Croatian, Montenegrin and Serbian are all officially different languages, but linguistically they are close dialects of the same language).

When I reached France, it was with a mixture of comfort and trepidation.  I actually speak a little bit of French, so I could have simple conversations.  But I also know enough grammar to know I’m getting my conjugation wrong or that I don’t know which participle to use.

The winter jacket is out

In one day, the Adriatic coast went from Indian summer to early winter.  Eight degrees has fallen from the thermometer and the wind has taken off a couple more.  Though the rain has moved on, the temperature hasn't climbed above 14°C in three days, and considering that I'm only going north now, I better get used to it.  All of Europe is under an Arctic chill.

Europe Reprise

On August 21st, I'm returning to Europe. They've been notified.

After surrendering your soul for ten years, you get three months of long service leave because time is money. I'll be spending that time in Portugal, Croatia, and France via Venice, Bruges, Montenegro, the castles on the German Rhine, and the rusto-majestic home of flamenco, Andalucía. To the right, you'll find a link to a map of my travels.

You'll be either well-informed by this blog or bored by the egoistic conceit of the idea. This blog is all about me. And things that happen to me. I find that fascinating.

As well as trying to keep this blog regular, I'll be writing travel articles freelance and shooting pictures for my next book. I'll try to post a few here.

I've been planning this trip for six months. Planning is part of the trip. It's practical daydreaming. Having attended writing workshops, photography workshops, and language classes, it might also be said that I have a small obsession with being prepared.

Next: the real thing.

Summer in Europe

Mai Li and I have generated a low pressure system that is being reported by the weather bureau as the centre of rain in Europe. Elsewhere is experiencing 40°C weather. So, when we arrived in Hallstatt it was raining, and while we were there it rained, and when we left it deemed to rain. We caught the ferry across the lake and boarded the train at the little unmanned station, bound for Vienna in transit to Budapest. We headed south because I wanted to go via the historic Semmering Railway, though this would take longer and require more changes, but like a giant board game we reached a sign that read Bad Aussee and we had to turn back. It seems there was track maintenance and this little town was as far as we could get, so we headed north, the faster and boring way to Vienna. I looked at the map of the Austrian rail network. Perhaps it was better than finding ourselves in Rottenegg.

When we got to Vienna it rained. Mai Li's $6 umbrella snapped in the wind and cut open three of her fingers.

We spent just that afternoon and night in Vienna since our destination was Budapest, where we arrived the following day.

In the rain.

The Plan.

All plans go to plan. This is ours.


View Larger Map

Click on the placemarks in the map above for more detail.

09 July: Fly to Kuala Lumpur for 18-hour layover.
10 July: Arrive Prague, Czech Republic.
14 July: Cezky Krumlov, Czech Republic.
17 July: Salzburg, Austria.
20 July: Hallstatt, Austria.
22 July: Transit Vienna, Austria, en route to Budapest.
23 July: Budapest, Hungary.
26 July: Transit to Prague.
27 July: Fly from Prague to Malaysia.
28 July: Arrive Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.
05 August: Angkor Watt ancient temple complex, Siem Reap, Cambodia.
09 August: Arrive Sydney.

Europe...

On Wednesday, 04 April, in a couple of days, Mai Li and I will fly to Madrid via Heathrow and our trip through through Europe will unfold, undoubtedly in every direction other than those carefully planned in the last two months. We will spend the first day doing our zombie impressions through the streets of Madrid after 28 or so hours of travel time in economy class before collapsing into our hotel bed as late as we can hold out. The following day we may take a day trip by bus to Segovia or Toledo, and the day after we will head to Andalusia for a week, starting with the Semana Santa celebrations in Seville.

Click on the image of Europe and you can see circled in red all the major points along our planned route. You can see our itinerary by clicking here.