As Kim had a one month break between leaving his job in Singapore and starting his new one in Hong Kong, we decided to take a holiday of one month. We have to wait for him to be in his new job for a year before the next holiday. France was chosen.
The flights to and from Paris were on one of SIA’s A380 aircraft, the first time I had been on one of these. From our location at the front of the upper deck it was not easy to gauge the size of this aeroplane, though from our location, a grand carpeted staircase led down to the suites on the lower deck. An obvious change was in the size of the toilets in our section -much larger than on any other type of aircraft I have been on. Unfortunately, I had the same problem that I had on our flights to and from New York a couple of years ago. The cocoons are just a few inches too short for me, which meant that although I was able to lie flat, I had to try to sleep without putting my feet 
into the recess provided. This was not possible, so I ended both flights with numb toes and feet.
In Paris, we rented a quiet apartment fronting a tree filled courtyard in the Temple/Marais area. This proved comfortable, although neither the TV nor the internet connection worked. Attempts to fix this by the Real Estate Agent’s workers were not successful (we learned that in France repairing things takes time, and folk are relaxed about this). We had only a couple of days in Paris (and one of them was May Day, when all museums and similar were closed). We had never seen Versailles, so one
day was taken up there, and on other days we used the HOHO (Hop On Hop Off) ‘buses to try to familiarise ourselves with the city, to which we have been only once before). Our Melbourne friends, Bob and Di, who were fortuitously in Paris when we were, also took us to a high quality restaurant for lunch. This introduced us to quality French food, with the menu comprising typical French meats of duck, rabbit and veal.
We collected a car from the Gare du Nord, and the drive from there to the highway leading to Bayeux, our first stop, is one that I would prefer not to do again. I drove, with Kim navigating. The car was fitted with GPS, and we had our own Garmin as well, but not being familiar with either one, and in a strange car, driving on the opposite side of the road, I was glad when we left Paris behind. The fact that I 
mistook the cruise control lever for the turning lever didn’t help. Occasionally the car wouldn’t respond to my foot on the accelerator, which upset the drivers of following cars! Bayeux is one of many ancient towns we saw in France. All of them have congested CBDs and a lack of parking. It is famous for the Bayeux Tapestry. This is actually an embroidery, as the coloured threads are sewn into the cloth, not woven. 
This is about 70 metres long (7 or 8 metres are thought to be missing), and depicts the story behind the Battle of Hastings. Edward the Confessor, the king of England who died without issue in 1066, left the throne to William, Duke of Normandy. The King’s brother-in-law, Harold Godwinson, had agreed to this before the King died, but reneged on his death and tried to take the throne. Thus William came to England, defeated (and killed) Harold at the Battle of Hastings, and took the throne. All of this is shown with great clarity and colour. A remarkable achievement.
A tour out of Bayeux was to Mont St. Michel, another of the most visited sites in France (along with Versailles – see above – Chenonceaux and Carcassonne – see below). Mont St. Michel comprises a tiny village (pop.42) at sea level beneath a small mountain, which is crowned by an ancient abbey, long one of the most famous pilgrimage sites in Christendom. Stairs lead upwards to the top of the
Abbey, at 240 feet above sea level. Mont St. Michel is at the end of a Causeway, the parking areas along which are susceptible to the tides. There are signs advising when cars should be shifted from the car parks. These have to be obeyed, as the tides race in at about 20 mph. I rated this place as one of the highlights of our holiday.
Another tour from Bayeux took us to the D-Day beaches. This was a very poignant visit, reminding me very much of Gallipoli. The entire area appears to be hallowed ground, with a number of beautifully maintained cemeteries for the fallen on the Allied side, and a small one for the German side. Offshore can still be seen remains of some of the mulberries used. An interesting place was Pointe du Hoc, 
an idyllic headland which during WW2 housed major gun emplacements. These were overcome by a force of American Rangers who climbed the cliffs. It was also heavily bombed, and there are many craters still evident on the headland.
At Bayeux, I became acquainted with Normandy oysters. The largest fleshy ones (No. 3) were most tasty, but at Euros 15 or so for 6, were not cheap.
From Bayeux we drove south to Amboise, in the Loire Valley. This valley is famous for grand chateaus, and we visited two of them, near to Amboise. Chenonceaux, a 16th. Century palace astride the Cher River, is one of the few chateaus in France built for pleasure, rather than for aggrandisement or protection of the owners. Looking at it, I was reminded of the opening lines of the poem by S.T. Coleridge (a few words would have to be changed) :-
"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan,
A stately pleasure-dome decree,
Where Alph, the sacred river ran etc. etc."
The second chateau we visited, Chambord, was much larger than Chenonceaux, very impressive from the view outside the chateau but unlike Chenonceaux, many of its 440 rooms were bare (and many were closed to the public).
From Amboise, we continued south to the Dordogne Valley, where we stayed at Sarlat. The Dordogne Valley is littered with limestone caves full of prehistoric artwork (some only recently discovered).We visited one (Grotte de Rouffignac), where a small train took us into the extremities of the cave, looking at mostly black coloured artwork of animals on the roof as we progressed. Another tour 
from Amboise took us to Beynac, a typical old village in the Dordogne, tumbling down a riverside mountain, on top of which was perched a forbidding, but crumbling, castle. The cuisine in the Dordogne revolves around duck and mushrooms, and virtually every restaurant features duck, and often only duck. When I ordered chicken at one restaurant (having found it in small print buried within the menu) I was looked at askance by the waiter. Tins of foie gras abound in the shops in the town.
Travelling south from Sarlat, we next stopped at Carcassonne. This comprises one of Europe’s largest and best preserved fortified towns (dating back to the 13th. Century), surrounded by the more modern town. Although a major tourist destination, the fortified city does not give the impression of great age (as does, for example, Mont. St. Michel), mostly because of relatively recent renovations. Nonetheless, it was worth visiting.
By now, we were very close to the Mediterranean, and we next stopped at Cap d’Agde. En route there, we looked at the Pont du Gard, part of the famous aqueduct dating from Roman times. The aqueduct (of about 50 kms. or so), which, by dropping one inch in every 350 feet, brought water to the city of Nijmes, which in those days was one of the largest cities in Europe. At the Pont du Gard, the aqueduct crosses a 
canyon on a massive bridge. This is almost perfectly preserved, and is a stunning example of Roman building, At a museum nearby, we learned that Nijmes had a commissioner for water, and he was constantly plagued by local folk siphoning off water without paying for it. Between Pont du Gard and Cap d’Agde, we had our first experience of the mistral, the strong chilling wind from the north which affects this area. There are windsocks along the roads, and we came across one accident, where a van had been blown on its side, unfortunately on top of an overtaking car.
Cap d’Agde is one of Europe’s major naturist settlements, and most of the resort buildings are within a naturist village, which is separated from the surrounding town. The village has a permanent population of naturists, who are mostly retired. There is a large influx of folk from northern Europe, once the summer school holidays start. We stayed at a new apartment on the outskirts of the village. The village 
is self- contained, with supermarkets and other shops, and a wide variety of good restaurants. Clothing is optional throughout, and was also in our apartment complex. An interesting experience observing the naturist cycling in the full glory. Here we enjoyed a bar which reminded me of New Orleans. Oysters were shucked in front of you, and were quite cheap (one small bottle of beer plus 6 oysters for 7 Euros). 
Seafood meals predominated, and we had one meal of memorable loup fish (sea bass).The mistral spoiled the first day, but the remaining two days were fine and hot, and we joined many hundreds of folk on the beach. Many of the folk used walking sticks, and a number were in wheelchairs. Despite this, all appeared happy, and brown all over !
From Cap d’Agde we turned westwards to Arles, on the Rhone. This city is notable as a place where Vincent Van Gogh lived and painted for a while, and throughout the city there are small monuments in the shape of easels, showing where Van Gogh actually completed particular paintings (eg one shows where he painted “Starry Night over the Rhone”). At a museum here, we learned that the mistral was often so bad that Van Gogh sometimes had to kneel on his canvases in order to paint on them, and at other times had to lash his canvases to a lamp post before he could paint). Arles dates from Roman times, and as a consequence has a number of Roman monuments – eg an 
arena which had a seating capacity of 20,000 – Colosseum in Rome 40,000, El Djemm in Tunisia 30,000. Many of these Roman sites are undergoing restoration. The food in Arles had elements of North African cuisine, and we enjoyed this type of food each night we were there. A side trip from Arles was to Les Baux, an ancient fortified village perched on a mountain.
From Arles it was over 400 kms to our last stop, in Chamonix. The highways in France make for quick travel. Speed limit is 130 kmph, and most are four lane. Diesel cars predominate (the appropriate fuel costs about 1.5 Euros per litre). Ours was also, but it had long legs on the highway.
Chamonix was a highlight of our holiday. A ski-ing village in the French Alps, it nestles beneath Europe’s highest mountain – Mont Blanc, at 4800 metres. Quite close to Mont Blanc is the Aiguille du Midi, a needle like peak . At about 3800 metres, the top of this peak can be reached by gondola from Chamonix. The top of the peak has been extensively tunnelled to include restaurants, souvenir shops, and viewing 
terraces. Quite remarkable, and well worth the visit, although many of the exposed terraces still had snow on them, and the wind blew strongly at the time of our visit. From Aiguille du Midi, another small gondola goes about 5 kms. or so (without any solid pylons along the way) to Heilbronner Point, the Italian border station. The French/Italian border slices through this station, where it is possible to 
stand with one foot in each country). Last Christmas we were in the Andes at 4200 metres, approximately the same height as we were at Chamonix. The major difference is that in the Andes we were only about half way up the range, whereas at Chamonix we were virtually at the top. Nonetheless the sight of the Alps stretching away in the distance was stunning.
In Chamonix, we rented an apartment with a terrace directly facing Aiguille du Midi, and it was warm enough to sit on our terrace in the evening and have a beer, whilst looking at this superb view. The cuisine in Chamonix is distinctive, featuring potatos and melted cheese (“tartiflettes”). It is difficult to find a dish without any cheese in it.
A side trip took us to Annecy, a nearby lakefront city (an old portion and a new portion), with a strong educational element.
From Chamonix to Paris was over 600 kms., but given the high quality of French highways, took us only 6 hours of driving time. This is to the outskirts of Paris, but the last 25 kms. From there to the Airport (where we stayed), with me driving and Kim navigating, was not something I would want to do again.
In all, a pleasant holiday, France being more attractive than I thought it would be. Easy to drive through, good food, good wine, but with the beer being only average quality. Not expensive, with most of our hotels being around 150 Euros a night. The evening meals were in line with what we would pay in Singapore.
About 150 kms from the southern tip of Tierra del Fuego is the Beagle Channel. This is the second sea route between the two oceans, but is narrow and not easily navigable. The southern most point of Tierra del Fuego is Cape Horn, which fronts Drake Passage. This is the third sea route between the two oceans, and at Cape Horn, stretches 600 kms or so to the Antarctic continent. From the time of its discovery in the 16
Strait was the main route used by commercial shipping, particularly in the transport of goods across North America before railways were established. As a consequence, the port of Punta Arenas (Chile), halfway along the Magellan Strait, became important for provisioning, coaling etc. However, the opening of the Panama Canal and the establishment of railways in North America lessened the usefulness of Punta Arenas, and it has now faded. 
Located on the Beagle channel is Ushuaia (pron. oos-why-a), in Argentina. This city promotes itself as the southern most city in the world (at 55 degrees south latitude). It probably is, although there are some small settlements nearby slightly further south (eg Puerto Williams, Chile), but these are not cities.
We arrived in Ushuaia from Barriloche, further north in Argentina’s Lake district, using an ancient MD-11 operated by the national airline. Ushuaia now has a population of around 60,000. It is highly dependent on tourism, but in order to keep the population stable or increasing, the Government has arranged for electronic assembly companies to be established there , all paying higher than normal wages. There are minor agricultural activities near the city, in the form of large haciendas estates running sheep. Given the quality of the grass, these haciendas do not have a large carrying capacity. Tierra del Fuego was inhabited by aboriginal tribes. Around Ushuaia, the Yamana tribe lived. This was a highly primitive tribe, wearing few or no clothes (keeping warm by rubbing fats from penguins and sea lions on their bodies). They had no permanent settlements, moving constantly in their search for food – they ate penguins, mussels and sea lions, as well as edible berries. They moved around in canoes, and reportedly adult males and females could not stand erect, as their legs and knees became dysfunctional because of the constant kneeling in their canoes. The settlers brought diseases with them, and the Yamana had no resistance to these. Hence, within 2 years of the arrival of settlers, the Yamana had virtually died out, leaving little or no trace of their culture. 
Ushuaia is reasonably modern, with a downtown stretching along the Beagle Channel, and suburbs marching up a mountain range in rows of streets with small colourful houses in assorted and odd architectural styles. The mountain range ends in jagged snow covered peaks about 2500 metres high. 
(at present, a lighthouse keeper, his wife, and two small children live there. The appointment of lighthouse keeper is for twelve months, and volunteers are involved). There is a small shop attached to the quarters, this selling T-shirts and other souvenirs. A second walkway leads to the highest point on the Cape, where there is a monument meant to represent an albatross. By having my photo taken under this monument, a long held ambition of mine was
achieved. The walkway to the monument crosses an unprotected part of the plateau, and here the wind was so violent that some elderly folk had to be assisted (me included), otherwise they would have been blown off the walkway, which again, had no handrails. The outlook south from the Cape over the Drake Passage is grim, to say the least. Clutching a pole and standing in cold screaming winds which freeze any unprotected skin, I could see nothing but a violent grey sea, with immense swells to the horizon (and presumably beyond this all the way to Antarctica). No vessels anywhere. 
Although the landing on Cape Horn was the undoubted highlight of the holiday, we were glad to return to the ship, to join fellow passengers for a hearty breakfast. A few of the passengers regretted their hearty breakfasts later. The ship moved out into the Drake Passage, where it was for more than 2 hours, before moving again to calmer waters. We had been warned that “there can be some movement” in the 
I thought this was an understatement ! The ship’s log showed that swells were 12 metres high, and the wind force (into which the ship was driving) was 100 knots. Some of the swells were enough to stop the vessel in its tracks. The movement of the ship was sufficient for cups and saucers to slide off tables, and in rooms (including ours), everything on shelves also fell off . Walking was very difficult although there were handrails in all passageways. In the lounge room, where 
many people were enjoying morning tea, there was chaos, and even the ship’s Xmas tree was swinging like a church bell and had to be secured to a wall. The crowd of morning tea drinkers quickly thinned as people rushed off to their rooms, and sea sick bags were distributed. I had no problems, but Kim retired to his bed to sleep, since there was nothing else to do and in the hope that this might alleviate nausea - surprisingly this worked. 
sparse flora as exist in southern Tierra Del Fuego can be seen. Amongst the berries is the barberry (El Calafate), which if eaten ensures that the person eating it will return to Patagonia. I ate some, but probably won’t last long enough to make the return journey ! 
was a stunning sight. The glacier is approached by Zodiac boat, and close to it, there is unfortunately the overpowering smell of bird waste, from myriad birds which nest on the sheer cliffs of the fjord. The Piloto glacier is blue, this being caused by minerals in its the water, and we were told that the blue colour is the only colour that the human eye can discern, there being other colours the human eye cannot see. This glacier is now noticeably smaller than it once was, and our stay at it was punctuated by violent cracking sounds, as chunks fell off it. A stunning sight (which of course could only be viewed from the Zodiac).
