The Castle

Atomium

On our second day in Brussels, we first took the local subway to the Atomium.

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It was built for the World Expo in Brussels in 1958 as the showpiece of the Belgian iron and steel industry.

You can access most of the “balls” via a combination of stairs and escalators with vivid strobe lighting displays.

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Most of the “balls” house a range of displays about the World Expo including scale models of the expo site.

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The former expo site is now home to a sport stadium, convention centre, innovation hub and public parkland.

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The top of the Atomium offers good views back towards Brussels city.

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You can also buy a worthless zero Euro banknote for 2 Euro. 🤔

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The Atomium is around 30 minutes from Brussels CBD by public transport.

Entry’s about AUD30 for Adults and AUD15 for children.

It’s an interesting an unusual attraction worth a visit if you have time, but not one to go out of your way to see.
 
A mini beer and a bubble waffle

After the Atomium we headed back into the city in search of lunch.

The city was busy but not chaotic.

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Through the main restaurant precinct, touts shouted over each other trying to win out business.

But it was Moules, Frites & beer that caught my eye.

I should have known better than to fall for the lunch special.

Mrs H ordered a regular beer (left).

Mine, which came as part of the meal "deal", was barely more than a mouthful and served in a plastic flute (right).

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To make matters worse, the mussels were tiny, but at least there was plenty of them.

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Mrs H had a garden salad with chicken.

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Miss H selected the calzone which was dry and uninspiring.

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Making our way back towards the hotel we discovered that Belgium has taken Japan’s lead in making almost anything available from a vending machine.

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Vending machine steak and champagne anyone?

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Both seemed a little impractical.

Instead we took Miss H to complete her Belgian wish list – a waffle!

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And with that sugar-high our two days in Brussels ended and it was onto the Thalys for the trip to Paris.

What we didn’t know was that we were headed for a city about to be engulfed by race riots.
 
Paris

Both Mrs H and me had visited Paris previously and would have happily skipped it for a new destination.

But Miss H, was very keen to visit and so we planned a two-night stay – just enough to cover the major attractions.

On this trip we’d not taken any notice of the news and were unaware that the night before our train rolled into Paris, police had shot dead a teenager accused of stealing a car.

We arrived to a beefed-up police presence.

Sirens were frequent and heavily armed police moved about in groups of no fewer than four.

Unaware of what was happening in the outer suburbs we set off to our first stop Montparnasse Tower.

It’s a 60-storey office tower with a viewing deck which offers excellent views of Paris, in particular the Eiffel Tower.

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There’s also a good view of Le Louvre and it puts into perspective just how big it is.

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Next stop:

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The Eiffel Tower had changed a bit since our last visit.

It was silver at the time of our last visit and is now bronze.

Apparently, they do this every decade or so and this latest facelift was just being completed in time for the Rugby World Cup and next year’s Olympics.

The other big change since our last visit in 2008 was a noticeable tightening in security.

Beside the security checkpoints are big signs advertising the admission prices.

These give the impression that access to the base of the tower is by paid ticket.

Access to this are is still free, but you do need to clear security.

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The grass areas around the tower – usually filled with people having picnics – were closed off.

No reason was given but perhaps they wanted them in good condition for Rugby World Cup visitors.

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The thought of going up the tower sparked nightmares of our 2008 visit standing in a queue for more than an hour.

But on this trip, once passed security I spotted an opportunity.

There’s two ways up: the lift, or stairs.

The lift is more expensive and had a very long queue.

But the stairs had virtually no queue.

A quick online ticket purchase and we began the climb.

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Being passed by the lift was slightly depressing.

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But reaching the top, were pleased to have skipped the lift queue.


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We took it easy on the climb and the view was worth it.
 
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That Montparnasse building is a blight on the landscape but the views are spectacular! Maybe the extra security also meant the mobs of hawkers and wanderers had been banished.
 
Eiffel Tower views

We were fortunate to have a relatively clear day.

From the top there was a good view back towards Montparnasse Tower.

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The Seine in the foreground and Arc de Triomphe beyond.

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A couple of attempts to get creative with my photography.

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The new coat of bronze paint was still being applied.

Not a job for the feint hearted.

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Views to the South West:

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To the North West:

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Despite not really needing a second visit, it was a pleasant way to spend a few hours.

It also brought Miss H a great deal of joy which was worth the price of admission.
 
Le DeBonnaire

After her success earlier in the trip selecting some excellent places to eat, catering in Paris was assigned to Mrs H.

On our first night she selected a bistro about three blocks from our hotel.

It was a small place with an over-worked owner who seemed slightly stressed about a group booking due later in the evening.

We were seated at a table inside, and offered menus translated to English and water.

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After a few minutes the owner returned to ask if we’d mind change tables.

He'd come to the realisation he needed more space for the group booking.

The poor chap was in a spin, and we obliged.

After ordering, I watched as he rearranged the tables at the back of the restaurant in two neat rows.

Not long after, one of his staff arrived at work.

She set about moving things around at the back of the restaurant and the tables ended up back where they started, but with a few extra chairs crammed in.

A quiet but animated discussion followed and then the third round of furniture removals was underway.

Mrs H had chosen well - dinner and a show!

For starter we shared the seashell knife seared planch.

This was not something I’d seen on a menu before.

It was like an elongated mussel served in its shell.

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We also had the breaded flakes soft-boiled egg on lettuce cream bacon.

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For mains, Miss H was back for another burger.

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Mrs H selected the gnocchi.

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While I went for what turned out to be an underwhelming steak.

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We skipped dessert and as we waited for the bill, we watched the spectacular finale of the show.

The large group arrived and promptly began rearranging the tables, much to the horror of the restaurant owner.
 
A city under siege

Next morning, we slept in and then opted for a leisurely breakfast at the hotel.

On large TVs in the restaurant a continuous news channel broadcast alarming pictures.

Overnight images included burning cars and shop fronts.

There were people throwing rocks, sticks and anything not locked down at police.

Lines of police with shields marched forward, backed up by armoured vans firing water cannon.

Though I speak no French, it was immediately clear Paris was a city under siege.

As if on cue, several police cars raced past the hotel, sirens blaring.

I checked several news sites in English and they all reported the trouble was in the outer suburbs.

I drew no attention to the TV and kept things low-key with the family.

But a decision had to be made.

Miss H was still keen to see Le Louvre.

The Louvre website indicated they were still open.

We hadn’t pre-booked tickets and Miss H had been warned I was keeping the Paris itinerary flexible.

I made the call that we’d proceed with the day as planned.

But every step of the way I was planning our escape route.
 
That Montparnasse building is a blight on the landscape but the views are spectacular! Maybe the extra security also meant the mobs of hawkers and wanderers had been banished.
When we stayed at Paris Hilton the concierge recommended going to the Montparnasse Tower as it was the one place in Paris that you could not see the Montparnasse Tower. Plus we enjoyed a nice dinner there with our waiter being a slightly homesick Australian.
 
Le Louvre

To reach Le Louvre we took the subway.

The streets of Paris seemed calm.

Leaving the subway station I spotted this take-away which offered “original French tacos” 🤷‍♂️

Presumably owned by an Irishman.

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Back above ground, there was still no sign of trouble as we passed some of the landmarks near Le Louvre

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We entered through the courtyard to the rear of the museum taking in the architecture and lack of water in all the fountains.

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In the archway between the two courtyards, a busker on a violin was playing the French classic Smoke on the Water.

On the other side, we were greeted by the iconic glass pyramids.

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At this point my outstanding planning skills were again on show.

You see, our days in Paris were Wednesday, Thursday & Friday.

According to Le Louvre website, Wednesday and Friday are the days with fewest crowds, while Thursday is generally the busiest.

What better way to spend a Thursday morning than standing around with four thousand new friends.

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Considering what was happening elsewhere I the city, security was cursory at best.

Having visited Le Louvre previously, both Halliday parents were happy to sit this one out.

But Miss H was exceptionally keen to see several famous works.

Once inside, we headed for the ticket booth and it was decided we would divide and conquer.

To her great credit Mrs H offered to take the hit.

This meant I could find a seat in the café to pass the time with a coffee and some people watching.

This was as close as the girls could get to the Mona Lisa.

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After a little over three hours, they returned.

Miss H was beaming and excitedly rattled off all the famous artworks she’d seen.

In contrast, Mrs H looked defeated and downtrodden.

She was overdue for a coffee and had sore feet.

There was only one logical solution.

Keep walking.
 
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Luxembourg Gardens & Arc de Triomphe

Jardin du Luxembourg (Luxembourg Gardens) was about a 20-minute walk.

Surely a marriage-saving coffee could be found along the way?

Heading South, we first crossed the Seine.

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Then through a caffeine-free local market.

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Luxembourg gardens are expansive and well kept.

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They wrap around Luxembourg Palace which was previously the royal residence and now houses the French senate.

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It was slightly surreal that a mix of locals and tourists were enjoying the summer sun with not a worry of the riots raging across town.

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From Luxembourg Gardens we took the subway to the Arc de Triomphe.

This was the farthest we’d been from central Paris and the police presence was intense.

Far greater than on our previous visit some years earlier.

Heavily armed with machine guns, they prowled the Arc and toward the Champs-Elysees in squads of a dozen or more.

We briefly walked around the base of the Arc, checking it off Miss H's to-do list.

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But I was beginning to feel uneasy - and not just about Mrs H not yet having found an acceptable coffee.

We considered walking along the Champs-Elysees before making our way back to the hotel.

We opted to head directly back to the hotel and later learned that all we would have seen were expensive shops being boarded up.
 
Le Limousin and a quick getaway

Back in the vicinity of our hotel things seemed more calm.

With Mrs H on a winning run selecting where we’d dine she was once again delegated decision making duties.

She chose another French bistro, Le Limousin.

This was a down to earth place serving comfort food – just what we needed.

Filet de poulet for me.

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Alfredo for Miss H.

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While Mrs H selected the Entrecote grille.

From French, I believe this translates to very tiny steak.

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Mrs H also managed another venue with entertainment.

Behind the counter was a trapdoor which opened to a storage area below the restaurant.

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For the duration of our meal it remained open with staff using the register care-free.

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There's no way Aussie WHS would allow it.

Next morning we learned the riots had indeed spread to central Paris.

We made our way to Gare de Lyon and boarded our train to Switzerland.

And we were out of there at top speed…

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Interlaken

Following a four-hour train ride we arrived in Interlaken and walked to our Airbnb.

Two blocks from Interlaken West station and near a large supermarket, it was a convenient choice.

The wrap around balcony offered views of the alps and hundreds of paragliders who launch themselves off the mountains each day.

From the rear balcony:

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Front balcony:

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From the street outside our apartment:

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It was an overcast and drizzly afternoon so we settled for a walk through town.

Interlaken is nestled between Lake Brienz and Lake Thun.

The river that link the two lakes winds it way through the town.

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It may have been summer, but after checking the water, it definitely wasn't warm enough for swimming.

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On the way back to the apartment we stocked up at the supermarket.

In unfamiliar supermarkets I always look for a product I know and use that as a barometer of prices across the store.

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That’s almost AUD7 for a small bottle of ginger beer.

Surely a mistake, so I checked another familiar product.

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AUD28.

Sadly they wouldn't price match the Dan Murphy price I showed them on my phone.

The grocery shop was not cheap.
 
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Sigriswil Panoramabruke (panorama bridge)

A tourist tax is included in the cost of accommodation in Interlaken, but it entitles all guests to an Interlaken Guest Card.

The card allows "free" use of public transport and discounts at major attractions.

On our first full day we flashed our guest cards and headed off on the bus along the northern side of Lake Thun to our first stop Sigriswil.

It’s a small village set on the side of a steep mountain.

On one side of town the mountain drops away into a deep gorge.

A 340 metre long suspension bridge spans the tree-lined canyon.

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At first, Mrs H refused to cross.

A fear of heights, combined with a very gentle sway in the bridge, both had to be overcome.

She dug her heels in deeper than the foundations that support the structure.

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We watched someone ride a pushbike across.

As the rider wobbled from side-to-side I assured Mrs H that he was coming home from a long night at the pub and the bridge had nothing to do with him being unsteady.

She didn't buy it.

Next I told her that I'd only bought one-way tickets.

If she refused to cross, the family would be split up, she would miss the rest of the day's adventures and have to find her own way back into town.

She didn't buy that either.

I needed a far bigger incentive.

Time with her loving family wasn't going to cut it.

I took a final shot with the biggest incentive I could think of...

"Look, there's a place just over there that does amazing coffee. It was on the internet, it must be true."

Mrs H leapt onto the bridge and began marching across as if her life depended on it.

Miss H looked at me with scorn.

It was the kind of look a parent gives a child when they're caught telling lies.

I shrugged.

"She's crossing isn't she?"

We were fortunate to have a mostly clear day and from the bridge took in stunning views across lake Thun to the Alps on the other side.

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On the other side of the bridge we found houses built into the side of a steep hill.

These people are fortunate to have magnificent views year-round.

But what they don't seem to have is a local coffee shop.

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We continued on a graded path and over the next ridge.

In need of a caffeine miracle, the sight of a small mountain chalet up ahead gave me hope.

It was a spectacular spot for Mrs H's morning coffee hit.

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Just don't believe everything you read on the internet that was made up on the spot - the coffee was dreadful.
 
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Gunten

After taking in the view for a while I offered Mrs H a choice.

We could go back over the bridge, or have a second coffee and wait for the next bus which wasn't for an hour.

Decision made, we headed back to the bridge for second crossing.

From there we made our way down the mountain to the lakeside town of Gunten.

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It’s a pretty spot with a small café outside the hotel.

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It’s one of a handful of towns on the lake served by the local ferry.

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We skipped the ferry and hopped back on the bus to head to our next stop, St Beatus-Hohlen.
 
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These days it’s home to a range of exhibitions.
I highly recommend the World Press exhibition at De Nieuwe Kerk. I went there with Seat Son in 2016 and it left a lasting impression on me - 2 photos in particular. One of a Ukrainian man who was shot dead in the Crimea action in 2014 - just walking to work, wearing a bike helmet. The other of a worker in forced labour in China making those red velvet flocked Christmas ornaments you can buy for about 50c each - no PPE except goggles and the photo showed how clogged the filter was on the fan in the corner of the room - raising the question of the worker’s lungs. These photos haunt me to this day. Depending on the age of Miss H, some parental guidance might be in order, but it was a compelling exhibition.
 

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