City Guides Redeemed

It's not like we owe anything to Madrid, exactly. I mean, we both pay our taxes (or will do in Theo's case when the Spanish system finds time to sign him up), we both contribute our euros to the city's economy in various ways, we integrate with the locals and we are both providing a much-demanded service, English lessons. So why did I feel like I needed to apologise for showing the city in a less-than-entirely favourable light after receiving our first guests from home? I did indeed apologise to my mother and godmother, who bore the brunt of our (unintentionally) rather sparse hospitality on that occasion. It's a bit more difficult to say sorry to a city. Where do you start? With the mayor, perhaps?

In our defence, Theo and I couldn't really help the fact that we were working for much of the duration of our first guests' sojourn - their stay was during the week and like most people, that's when we're busy earning our crust. And it was just bad luck that the same week caught both of us in a state of illness and attendant tiredness, crotchetyness and low energy levels.

I suppose, having been living in the city for six-or-so weeks by then, we should have been able to offer more inspiring suggestions for outings and certainly should have had a few special bars and restaurants up our sleeves. But much of our time since arriving in Madrid had been spent working, recovering from working, sorting out the necessary bureaucracy and being ill. Thus, our tour guiding was at best, somewhat patchy. And that's putting it mildly.

Our one attempt to show our guests a bit of the "real" Madrid went spectacularly wrong when our short stroll to the trendy and accessible La Latina area took a wrong turn and became a hike through the mean streets of Lavapies. The latter is a fairly popular area with those seeking an authentic city expererience, but isn't really the right place to take your respected (or even disrespected) elders for a nice glass of sherry. Something about the skulking groups of shifty-eyed, baseball-capped young men hovering in the semi-deserted alleys, I think.

The wonderful San Gines chocolateria, with its cups of thick, dark, sweet nectar and stacks of churros helped improve our guests' impressions of Madrid a little, but I fear by then, the city had rather lost its shine. A shame. Madrid, as I have mentioned before, is not as pretty, impressive or antiquitous as other Spanish cities, but it has a lot to offer in terms of culture and buzz. As salesmen, we were simply inadequate to the task of showing it off at its best (especially as I am a woman).

So it was with relief as well as delight that we observed our two most recent guests fall in love both with Madrid and its people (natives and extranjeros). They chose the "puente" for their visit - a Thursday public holiday which leads many to take Friday off as well (puente is Spanish for bridge) so consequently, Theo and I were far more available to offer company, as well as food and lodgings (our previous guests had stayed in a hotel, which was definitely a better option for them - as elders and betters, I don't think the sofa and foam-mattress on the lounge floor would have been acceptable). Also, we were both in rude health and spirits AND we'd had a chance to make a few finds when it came to places where we could take visitors, so we were able to play host with a lot more confidence. Various of our Madrid pals, as well as a visiting phalanx of Valencianos, came up trumps with an exuberant, nattery Anglo-Spanish mix of open-armed welcome, which helped show Madrid in its warmest, most sparkly light. To cap it all, both our friends were hit on by members of the opposite sex - and nothing beats a good flirtation for making some top-notch holiday memories.

In summary, you win some, you lose some. In this case, it's one-all. Madrid, I hope you accept the apology.

The Luxembourg Lergy

Actually, we hadn't planned on visiting Luxembourg at all. Theo had been there before and wasn't too worried about going back, but suggested we might as well call in as we were in the area and as I had never set foot in the third Low Country I agreed. After all, no harm in completing the trilogy of Benelux lands, a mini European hat-trick to pop in the portfolio. A few hours wandering around Luxembourg City, one night's stay and a trip back through the Ardennes to the Netherlands ought to do it.

But my innards had other ideas. On our last night at the Grimbergen campsite near Brussels (much nicer than the name suggests, although it brings back painful memories in some respects) I was suddenly struck down by a urine infection. To spare the more squeamish I won't go into the details, but it was deeply unpleasant. Theo was alarmed and wondered if I should be taken to hospital, but by morning I'd managed a few hours sleep and although I wasn't 100% in the pink again, most of the uncomfortable symptoms of the previous night seemed to have cleared up. We set off, as planned, for Luxembourg.

The city itself has a few grand buildings and some pleasant squares, but its old ramparts and tree-filled surrounds are probably Luxembourg's most interesting features. Most of the shops were closed and the streets around the city centre were virtually traffic-free, which made us wonder if we'd got our days mixed up and it wasn't Friday at all. In fact, it was the feast of the Ascension and a public holiday, which helpfully meant all parking was free.

The Kockelscheuer campsite where we pitched up, despite having sparkling facilities, was the cheapest official place we had yet stayed on. A pair of French travellers, who invited us back to their fantastic lorry conversion for aperos, told us the comparatively high wages and low cost of living made it an excellent place for a working sojourn. They were funding their itinerant lifestyle (complete with two dogs) by working in one of the local bars.

That night, urgent and feverish bladder-emptying had me tumbling out of Sheena every two hours and in the morning my back was aching and I was passing blood. This time when Theo suggested a visit to hospital, I acquiesced.

As Theo pointed out to buoy me up, it was interesting to sample another aspect of Luxembourg culture - its health service. Generally, I would prefer to sample a country's culture by sipping a drop of its local tipple from a hospitable cafe than providing a drop of my own urine in the city hospital, but Theo had a point.

Despite the inevitable wait to be seen, the hospital had an air of calm, courteous efficiency and like most Luxembourgers, the staff were multi-lingual. I was assessed first by a nurse, then a doctor, had some blood taken for a test and was eventually told I had developed a fairly serious kidney infection and was prescribed some strong antibiotics, which I would have to take for the next three weeks.

My prescription cost an eye-watering 60 Euros, but the helpful pharmacist told me I could get most of the money back via EU health agreements and even wrote down the address of the place where I should go.

So, bearing in mind the doctor's instructions that I should return if I got worse over the next 48 hours, Theo and I returned to Camping Kockelscheuer, requested a pitch near La Sanitaire and settled down for some convalescence. At least it's meant I've finally finished A Suitable Boy. And I'm feeling a whole lot better too. But next time I have to do any water sampling in Luxembourg, I would rather it was in the spa.

famously friendly

Switzerland is famous for many things. We tried to list them to keep us amused as we sat in what was rather amazingly our first serious traffic jam on our now 3 month long trip as we queued to go through the San Gotthard Tunnel: cheese, yodelling, William Tell, chocolate, raclette, clocks, army knives, neutrality, banks, mountains, winter sports, the Matterhorn, fondue, lakes, Heidi and so on.

What really should be added to this list is friendliness. We were quite unprepared for just how friendly and welcoming the Swiss people are. From the couple who offered us the use of their stove on the Luzern campsite to the couple of Swiss lads who challenged us to game of tablefußball on the streets of Zurich. One lovely lady, Lucia, not only helped us solve the puzzle of the Swiss bus ticket system, but explained about the little lake boats we were entitled to use with our travel cards, how we could watch a free live broadcast of Carmen from the Opera House and where we could hear some Persian pop music. And this was all before we got to Bettina's flat!

I first met Bettina in a campsite in Liechtenstein 8 years ago when I was inter-railing around Europe. We got drunk on Schnapps and she had to help me get back to my tent! Now Kate and I have called in on her and her German boyfriend Peter in their gorgeous apartment (flat wouldn't do it justice) in the pretty Swiss spa town of Baden. Their hospitality has been overwhelming: raclette and wine, a comfortable double bed, laundry services and the best guided tour of a town we've had since Seville. It was the least we could do to buy them lunch. After which, we dropped in on Bettina's lovely mum for coffee and kuchen and she completed our good impressions of Swiss hospitality by presenting us with Swiss souvenir candles and serviettes to take with us in the van. Truly delightful people.