We celebrated another beautiful Spring weekend with a trip to Holland to see their tulips at Keukenhof, the world’s largest tulip garden – the Netherland’s answer to the Floriade of Australia.

Adrian and I started our train trip at Brussel-Zuid. Various friends boarded our trains in Brussel-Centraal, Mechelan, and Den Haag, in what Cedric termed a “logistical triumph”. He also warned us that statistically the Brussels-Amsterdam local train was prone to the most delays in Benelux, however we were in luck and we made our connection with minutes to spare. A bus then took us from Leiden to Keukenhof, and we stepped through the front gates of the chateau to a magnificent garden and greeted with the sounds of an old-fashioned automated pipe organ.

In the 15th century, Keukenhof (“Kitchen-gardens“) was originally the site for the herbs and vegetables for Teylingen, held by the Countess Jacqueline of Bavaria, converted into a flower landscape by Jan David Zocher and his son Louis Paul Zocher in 1850, and then first opened as a tulip exhibition in 1949 to promote the Dutch flower export industry.

There are 15 kilometers of walking paths over 52 hectares, and over 7 million flower bulbs hand-planted. They even hire 12 swans for the duration of the opening period, fill their ponds with dutchings, and have a “t Hofje” children’s farm filled with chicks, lambs, calves, and piglets. It was a beautiful day, and even though it was filled with people there was plenty of space for everyone.

I found out afterwards that bridal parties and their photographers get free entry, although it’s unlikely that I would be able to fit into my wedding dress at the moment.

By the afternoon some of our party were feeling a little tuliped out, so we made our way back to Leiden for an afternoon of bar hopping along the canals. We finished up at Annie’s for dinner, sitting on a floating platform and watching the procession of boats filled with party-goers celebrating another fine afternoon of light and warmth.

After an extremely disappointing organised tour, where we spent nine hours in a bus to visit one of the only non-world-heritage listed churches in the Troodos mountains, we cancelled the rest of our tours and decided to take up residence by the beach instead. Even Adrian said that he would prefer sitting by the water rather than in a bus for several hours to see a pile of old rocks.

My next few days began at 5:30 am, where I would wrap a blanket around my shoulders and sit on the balcony to watch the sun rise over the ocean. Then I would wander down to the buffet restaurant for my first breakfast of the day, perhaps some porridge with walnuts, sultanas, and golden syrup. Exhausted by all this activity, I would nap until mid-morning when I would join Adrian and John for breakfast number two, usually some eggs and baked beans, followed by waffles and fresh Cypriot oranges.

We would then amble down to the water’s edge, where I worked my way through The Exception, while the boys argued over America’s history of foreign policy or the relative merits of Obama’s healthcare bill. By lunch time we might have worked up the energy to leave the hotel and amble down the road to find a restaurant for lunch, perhaps kebaps, usually accompanied by a cute couple of kittens begging for scraps.

I would then head back to enjoy nap number two, while John would meet up with new friends and Adrian would bury his head in a newspaper or check-up on the lab back home. After a quick swim, dinner time would soon arrive, and we would again venture out to sample the local cuisine. As the day drew to a close, I would return to our room to again look out at the ocean, temporarily decorated with the twinkling lights of the Israel-bound “Pride North America” oil-rig, with Orion and Sirius standing guard overhead, and fall asleep to the sounds of the waves gentle lapping against the shore.

Today is our last day in the country of Malta, with each morning bringing a new discovery. Adrian and John have been a little suspicious that each day of sightseeing seems to end at 3pm, but I told them that if they left the itinerary to me then I was going to ensure that there was regularly scheduled nap and relaxation time.

The weather has been spotty, but we have been lucky to have sun breaks most days that were warm enough to sit outside and enjoy a few drinks looking out at the sea. One of the highlights of the trip was a private morning tour by uPhotoMalta, where Duncan drove us around to his favourite spots on the island, letting us look out across the bay to Gozo and Comino, as well as some of the more isolated parts of the country. Near the tail end of Malta we stopped off to see Popeye’s Village of Sweet Haven, originally built in 1980 for the movie, and now operating as a theme park and private beach.

It is amazing that we can drive around the whole island in a single day. Even the pizza place near our door proudly proclaims that they deliver to all of Malta. Our uPhoto tour included a stop off in Rabat to try the delicious mush-pea filled Pastizzi pastries in an old hold-in-the-wall, with old men proudly showing off their trapped finches. We then walked across a bridge across an orange-grove filled moat to find ourselves in Mdina, the original capital city that is now a silent walled fortress containing the first cathedral of St John.

We stopped of for lunch at Marsaxlokk fishing village, the two-story buildings a stark contrast to the high rise apartments near our hotel at St Julian’s. All the boats were symbolically coloured with big eyes on their sides to ward off danger.

John even managed to hunt down to Canberrans living in Malta for us. Sam and Adam are taking a break from Oz to work in the Mediterranean for a year or so. We reminisced about Belconnen Bus Interchange and the Pancake Parlour over a few drinks, and then they were even so kind as to take a day off to show us a few more spots around the island. Thanks to their efforts, we were able to walk through the Mnajdra megalithic ‘temple’. This structure, along with the Tarxien, Hagar Qin, Ta’Hagrat and Skorba complexes, are the oldest free-standing stone monuments in the world, with some dated at over 5000 years old.

Nearby the Tarxien complex is the underground Hal Saflieni Hypogeum. To protect the stones from a build-up of carbon dioxide, only 60 visitors are permitted each day. We bought our tickets back in December to guarantee entry, and caught a taxi rather than the more jovial orange bus to ensure that we would arrive on time. It was an astonishing journey back in time, to see these huge underground caverns that had been carved without metal tools, with red ochre patterns still visible on the ceilings.

We have a full house at the moment – me and Adrian, Pepper and Mint, my sister Amy, as well as my mum and her partner Josef.

While mum and Josef were sleeping in, Adrian, Amy, and I got up early to see the Brussels Flower Carpet. Most postcards of Brussels’ Grand Place show it decked out in a magnificent floral display of nearly a million flowers. However, if one was to turn up to the Grand Place on any random day, on would only have a 0.4% chance of seeing it like that, as the Bloementapijt / Tapis de Fleurs is only present for three days every two years.

Happily, today is one of those days. While Adrian complained about the position of the sun in the sky and other such things, we climbed up the stairs of the Town Hall to view the carpet from above. This year the theme celebrates Belgium’s presidency of the EU (even though we haven’t had a government ourselves for months). We spotted the emblem of the city (an iris), the patron saint (the archangel Michael slaying a demon), and the letters “EU” woven into the display. A cute little fountain also spurted out from the centre.

It was a gorgeous morning with a bright blue sky, the sun bring out the colours of the begonias and sparkling in the water. We then celebrated our accomplishments with waffles at the secret Waffle Express hidden under the stairs at Central Station.