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This Is My Station

Traveling is like flirting with life. It’s like saying, ‘I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station.’ (Lisa St. Aubin de Teran)

The last of my Belgium photographs…
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One of the most beautiful churches I’ve seen ever. This is Basilica of the Holy Blood in Bruges, Belgium.
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Originally used for flour, Laura says.
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What a coincidence!
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The original Godiva store!
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Jet lagged.image-156
Oh mama!image-157
Haagen-Dazs ice-cream was everywhere in Japan! I bet my Japanese friends and students would love this cafe.

Lakeside Strolls and Gothic Grandeur

How great is Europe? How cool is this? To travel from one country to another in less than an hour, from France to Switzerland, Lausanne desu. PS “desu” is a Japanese word often used at the end of factual sentences and for me, the most memberable part of the public transport announcements. Osaka desu. Tokyo desu. Lausanne desu.
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As for Switzerland, it is clean, luxurious and crazy expensive.
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First on our Lonely Planet list was to visit the Olympic Mueseum. Unfortunately, the entry fee turned out to be a lottle expensive. 18 Swiss Franc, that’s about 25 New Zealand dollars for only three floors – and I’m not even interested in Olympics! So, I took a few pics of the building itself but because the sun had not come out yet, I don’t think they’re that great.Sorry. Next up, the local Wednesday (and Saturday) market:
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Teeny tiny little widdle pumpkins. image-126image-130
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My best street photography picture ever.
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Both Sonia and I agreed these were THE best vegetarian burgers we have ever had ever. From Holy Cow
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Ferry back to France. 50 mere minutes on beautiful Lake Geneva.
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Back in France, cherry sorbet.image-114
For my Bahai followers (and those interested). This is the hotel (now residential apartment) Abdu’l-Bahá stayed at during his travels of Switzerland and the very port her travelled from.
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From Hola to Bonjour

Guys, I’m so confused. One day I’m saying gracias to the supermarket clerk, the next day, arigato. Note to self: merci merci merci pardon.

Today I biked to the local market. I said “bonjour” to an elderly passerby. He said: “bonjour mademoiselle,”(just like the movies) and I died.
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The French market in Thonon reminded me very much of the Riccarton Bush market back home (NZ). Unlike the markets in Spain where the fresh produce were displayed organically in fresh piles, the food here were set out decoratively in nice cartons, on pretty table cloths and alongside authentic ornaments.
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He said: “Hey lady try this olive pesto. It’s very fresh.” Then: “but not as fresh as you!” ???
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Delicious oily beignets mmm!
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Okay, NOW I’m French.
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This picture is for Teck Loh, Andy Banks and my father <3
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Herbs for my mama <3
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And last but not least, flowers for my sister.
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Remnants of a French breakfast :O

Phnom Penh Pics

Before you start scrolling down (hey.. hey! Stop scrolling!) please take a moment to appreciate the alliteration of this post. PPP! Ok, now you may go.
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My favourite were the baby limes on the bottom left corner – so delicious!

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Zoom in if you dare!

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Carrying bags of…human flesh?

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This is not an optical illusion.

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Who knew baby green eggplants existed?

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Asian menu vs Western menu.

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KINGdom of Cambodia

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