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I think I must be one of the only people in the world that doesn’t love France. I really don’t know what it is but I always feel slightly out of control and end up so stressed worrying about the language and every other thing. I have decided that my future French expeditions will all occur in oh so very sensible Canada. You get the lovely French welcome, Bonjour, but then the switch to English happens instantaneously.

It is really clear why Quebec City needed to be built on a massive fairy tale hill. If you are going to have food that good you must create some way to work it off. Anyone for crepes with mascarpone, lemon curd, white chocolate and pistachio? I had some of the most sublime meals ever.

I do work pretty hard for IIQM and the lovely Bailey, Alex and Yvette took me to dinner at the seriously gorgeous Le Saint-Amour. They have a tradition at the end of each conference where they go somewhere that has a tasting menu. Well, the theory was a tasting menu in Quebec City, but the reality was far from a taste. It was like eating ten full dinners and then when you thought – I am going to pass out if I eat one more thing, the chocolate arrives with the little glass of mint chocolate that you drink through a straw. The food was indescribably beautiful. Most times I would far prefer to eat vegetables than any sort of creature who runs in the Canadian wild but I thought, when you are in a gorgeous French Salon with great company and the reputation of one of Quebec’s finest restaurants you just have to go with it. I still really can’t believe that I ate Canadian Red Deer and hare terrine but do not regret one mouth full.

Carol and I went to the Chateau and sipped on champagne and lovely cocktails. If you are sitting in a fairy castle surrounded by flying geese and old opulence you really do have to behave like princesses. It was lovely. We went on to a beautiful place for dinner – Chez Boulay (a little sister of my ten course extravagance). We did feel quite French dining at 9.30pm but the lovely climb home helped with any feelings of guilt about eating and going straight to bed. I can reassure you we floated up the hill and slept like princesses in our lovely tower.

Montreal might not grab me, but then there is beautiful Quebec City. It is like being in a fairy tale with the stunning Chateau Frontenac making you feel like you stepped straight in to a Disney princess movie. We had checked the GPS and our hotel was only about 2km from the railway station, so of course, what do you do, you walk. What idiot would get a taxi for only a couple of thousand meters –the question is more what idiot would walk 2km straight up a sheer cliff dragging travel weary suitcases? We set off dragging bags and realised our hotel was right at the top of seriously daunting hills. The problem was, that by the time we realised, we were half way up, so we cheerily sang – I think I can I think I can till we get to the top of the hill. There were Jack and Jill moments, where we thought if we let go of these bags for one second we will surely tumble down.

The Hilton was right at the top of Quebec City and had the most amazing views – it would have to be up there as the top hotel in the world for the view. The lovely Yvette from the Institute that I was working for in Canada had organised an executive room so I really was like Rapunzel in the tower in the 21^st floor.

I looked down over the most awesome view of the Chateau, the beautiful Parliament buildings and the Plains of Abraham. The Disney theme continued with my view of the old city walls and the fairy tale gate in to the city.

The only problem of being up, you must come down. Oh the hills of Quebec City. If one ever wanted to do mountain goat training that sure is the city. We walked and walked and walked and I had no issue at all ensuring that the Apple watch was happy that I had done my active steps for the day.

We have become totally accustomed to our Bonjour, Bon soir and Merci beaucoup – so when I do arrive home I will have to bite my tongue and just remember to say simply thanks.

My flight from Australia to New York was so very easy. As always, Carol had lost her bags when she arrived into New York via Boston. She desperately needs to get rid of that case.   I think I should start a Go Fund me page for a new one.

We had the quickest stone bowl in the little Korean café next to the hotel and then climbed in to bed before our train expedition. Oh I do love a good train, and the trip from New York City to Montreal was lovely. The Fall is a bit delayed (who says there is no climate change) so the trees are not completely yellow, orange and red but as we traveled along the Hudson Valley on the Adirondack the scenery was beautiful.

We had a massive day running around Montreal. Managed to fit in a lovely breakfast at my favourite Olive and Gormando and walked in to a film set in lovely Old Montreal. We climbed Mont Royal and didn’t realise at the time that we were in training for Quebec City.

I always have a moment of where am I, who am I in Montreal. You arrive in LA before you leave, Thursday lasts for ever, and then you feel like you have been somehow teleported to Europe. About 60% of the population of Montreal are bilingual and as soon as you arrive the French accents start and you quickly realise you are in the largest French city outside Paris.

Montreal to me is OK but is not somewhere that really grabs me – maybe (highly likely) that I am just odd as I have heard people say how fantastic it is. I can’t quite explain but it doesn’t seem like a warm city to me – and I don’t mean the temperature.

I have had the most fantastic few days in the fabulous city of Barcelona. It reminded me so much of Melbourne – same light, and the passages evocative of the laneways. Great cafes selling all sorts of tapas, and fabulous artisan craftspeople, especially through the beautiful area of El Born. The medieval streets above the old jousting haunts is just fantastic. It is like being caught in a labyrinth, with maze like narrow passages leading every way. As I wandered the streets, the tourists disappeared and I find myself strolling down narrow passages with craftspeople at work – fabulous jewellery, bags and leather intermingled with young men standing around smoking.

It is so nice to move away from La Rambla and the tourist promendade from Plaça de Catalunya in the centre, to the Christopher Columbus Monument at Port Vell. It is clear that security is tight, with police cars blocking entries to La Rambla. Today I have had a great morning at the Titanic exhibition that was really fantastic.

Now about that hotel, the lovely Yurbban Passage was an absolute find. It is brand new and located in El Born, so a lovely neighbourhood. The rooms are incredibly quiet and just lovely minimalist chic. The staff were fabulous, the hotel portable wifi saved me from getting totally lost (such a godsend), and breakfast was seriously yum. The pool on the roof had Barcelona’s best views, and sipping sangria with the view and lovely water for swimming was a bit sublime. Last night I was absolutely stuffed so thought I would have a crappy dinner in the hotel – well gee I was wrong – the most superb dinner of calamari, tomato crunchy something and crema catalana. I found out that the restaurant only opened last week with a Michelin starred chef so I don’t expect the restaurant to be quiet for long. The food was really amazing and amongst the best I have ever eaten.

My flight is delayed two hours, so it will be late when I finally get to London, but thankfully I don’t fly home until Sunday so it will all be OK. I am highly amused by the gutter mouthed British young things all going off about a delayed plane – I was tempted to give the toughen up princess retort but one can only guess what I would get in return.

Well, hard to think up enough superlatives for the genius of Gaudí. I came for the Sagrada Familia and it definitely didn’t disappoint. Antoni Gaudí’s temple to geometry soared upwards with the most fantastic stain glassed window. The light was pouring through and everywhere I looked there were wild shapes of all sizes. About 70% of the temple is finished, but it won’t be complete until 2026. The outside was so bizarre, with stone that looked like it was running down the sides, amazing figurines and the iconography of Gothic and Byzantine ages. I had a great taste of Gaudí with trips to the Casa Vincens, Parc Guell, Colonia Guell, El Drac de Gaudí at Finca Güell, and Casa Batlló and a taste of fabulous tapas at a lovely small café near Basílica Santa Maria del Mar. The weather is totally gorgeous and it is so nice to walk in a t-shirt and swim in the lovely pool of my super cool abode. No Gaudí there just super chic minimalism.

The Hotel Bastille Marais was just perfect. Oh so quiet, with a large comfy bed and copious hot water (once I managed to figure out the taps). The staff on the desk were totally lovely and couldn’t do enough to make my stay an enjoyable one. I do get stressed in France. Not totally sure why, but the language freaks me out. Silly really, as I am ok at reading some French and can generally figure out what most people are saying. I find the Parisian Bistrot terrifying though as I am convinced I will end up feasting on horse. I do feel much safer with the fromage, but then not that different to home really, as not that keen on meat at the best of time.

The location of the Hotel Bastille Marais couldn’t have been better. It was about half way between Republic and Bastille so walkable really to everywhere. Super easy to get to  Gare Du Nord, and a lovely stroll to Gare de Lyon for this morning’s train. Strolling was far preferable to the bikes amongst the traffic – had to close my eyes a few times as young girls without helmets swerved between totally mental drivers.

I have just arrived at Valence Rhone Alpes Sud so I guess it won’t be long until I drop in to Spain. The scenery outside has been beautiful so far. The small villages picture perfect as we have sped across France at 300km an hour.

I can now see the Alps out the window and sitting upstairs on this super comfortable train is just so much more pleasurable than flying. The sun is bright and the train is surrounded by hills. Terracotta roofs, church steeples and the occasional hilltop tower are nestled beneath the peaks that just have a smattering of snow. I have a bossy older French woman sitting in my assigned seat so am playing musical chairs as new people get on. It is OK though, as I get to see a different view out different sides of the train. It is a gorgeous day outside and I just feel so damn lucky to be here.

After my cheese picnic of last night, I woke up feeling positively sluggish. I had Fiona’s list so dragged myself in to the shower and headed off list in hand. After a 30km walk I ended up limping in to the pharmacie in search of something for my shoes as my feet have been completely battered. Today it was hours spent across the 3rd and 4th arrondissements

in Le Marais. I started in Place Des Vosges and wandered for miles and miles and miles. My slow day was about the pace, and the constant stops for a sit in another lovely square. Breakfast/lunch was a beautiful apricot, peach and apple tart from an enticing boulangerie which I savoured in one of Paris’s lovely garden spots. From shoes in rue de Saintonge to jam at La Chambre aux Confitures at 60 Rue Vieille du Temple I followed my sister’s directions.

I cursed the heaviness of my suitcase as the Clementine confiture was stunning, but it needed to stay on the shelf as I have an Easy Jet flight between here and home. I got myself totally lost in Le Marais and must have walked up and down rue de Bretagne, rue de Turenne and rue Vieille du Temple a million times. It was so lovely. Again, I walked for miles to the Boutique Maile, 6 Place de la Madeleine to taste mustard and lusted after the gorgeous copper pans at E. Dehillerin at 18-20, rue Coquilliere.

I do find the massive Parisian train stations totally confusing and got completely disoriented in Les Halles. I am not a fan of Starbucks but have never felt so pleased to see a Starbucks for a café latte. I had a lovely chat to a gorgeous young woman who kept apologising for her English – there was one very clear fact – her English was 500% better than my French. I staggered on to the train to Gare de Lyon. I was keen to make sure I knew exactly where I have to start my Spanish adventure. My boots are now filled with gel insoles but I think even those will provide little relief – my poor feet have been trashed with 100s of km of UK and Parisian streets.

I just loved my oh so quick train trip across the UK, in the tunnel and then the French countryside. I had done the trip in the dark and the heavy snow but had never done it in brilliant sunshine and it was totally fabulous. I arrived in to Gare Du Nord and changed to line 5 and a quick trip to Breguet-Sabin station. The tree lined street of Boulevard Richard Lenoir is so lovely and it was fantastic to watch people of all ages playing boules in the sand. Of course, being Paris, everyone not a child had a glass of red wine in hand.

I had a long walk through the Marais and a wander through Marché des Enfants Rouges, the oldest covered market in Paris. There was no sight of enfants clothed in rouge but plenty of stylish Parisians lunching on Moroccan fare. I had a massive walk down Boulevard Beaumarchais, through the Bastille and down Boulevard Henry IV. I strolled the edge of the Seine past Notre Dame and down to Du Louvre.

What really struck me was the enormous police and army presence since I was last here. I did feel slightly anxious a few times at the massive machine guns carried by the men in camouflage attire.

The jardin des Tuileries were as beautiful as ever but I was rather pleased to see the metro at Concorde. I caught the train back and called in to the Franprix for baguette, my favourite Roquefort cheese, and wine for my bed top picnic. I watched French TV and was highly entertained by a doco on Wills and Kate – couldn’t understand most of it but sat and nibbled away. I think I must have passed out as the tele was till blaring when I woke at 1am – of course, spent the rest of the night swearing about eating so much cheese – but oh I do love it.

After I left Cambridge, I had a cross country trek to Keele. The lovely Gemma drove me to Nottingham and I then trained it from Nottingham to Derby and then changed to the train to Stoke on Trent. The cabbie got me to Jan and John’s quite quickly and there were copious amounts of tea ready. Jan and John are always the most fantastic hosts and the usual welcome mat was out. Their house is lovely and huge so it could be filled up with sister wives. Grace was also staying, so poor John had a harem of Aussie women. We kept laughing about Big Love and giggled as we all went our different ways and then returned to John in the evening. The highlight one evening was the hedgehog that Reggie found for the sister wives amusement.

Jan and John are so lucky to be living on campus and as we walked down past Keele Hall and through the woodlands it was like a scene from Pride and Prejudice. I really expected Mr Darcy to emerge from the lake. Again, it was busy, but I loved spending a few days with the sister wives and John. I had great meetings at Keele, and Sue, Head of School, was totally lovely and I expect to be back there soon.

The train from Stoke to London Euston is super quick. John delivered me at the station and made sure I knew where I had to be. The only downside has been that I lost my damn glasses somewhere and had to buy a cheap pair of magnifiers. I have been experiencing awful travel sickness and I do wonder whether it is something to do with the glasses – but can’t see without them so just have to sip lemon and ginger tea and put up with it.

Euston to the lovely Pullman Hotel was a really short walk, and it was so nice to sit quietly and feast on Scottish salmon before falling in to bed. I knew I had to be up to catch the train to Paris from St Pancras so of course tossed and turned all night.

How cool is it that I was whisked from St Pancras to Gare Du Nord so quickly – from the Pullman in London to the lovely Hotel Bastille Marais in under three hours is a bit surreal.

I had a totally fabulous work day with Karen. We sorted the journals, Banff, and made a good start on solving the ills of the world. Lunch at the Tate was lovely and we walked, talked, walked, talked and talked some more. By the time I hugged Karen goodbye at Euston, we were as the Brits say, completely knackered.

I worked in bed for a while, as have had three PhDs to examine while I have been here, but then headed to platform 9 and ¾ for my train to Hogwarts. Well almost – Cambridge has that Hogwarts feel about it.

My time in Cambridge was completely packed so really had little time to do much but work. I caught up with the lovely Sarah, and good British fish and chips at the pub on Monday night was a real highlight.

I was lucky to stay in the very swish Cohen Court at Churchill College. Cohen Court has a Grand Design feel to it and has won British architectural awards. The architectural websites state that it was designed to ‘pay homage to the “picturesque Brutalism” of the original 1960s campus architecture’. Wikipedia tells me that Brutalism comes from the French notion of raw, and I guess there is something raw about the brown brick and concrete that is Churchill. There was nothing brutal about the lovely lined timber box around a treed central courtyard that was my home for a few days.

I did manage to fit in a late night soiree at my favourite, The Eagle. The Eagle is Cambridge’s oldest pub and pretty amazing to sit sipping wine in a pub that dates back to 1667. The graffiti done by World War 2 airmen is still intact on the ceiling and we had a lovely night drinking far too much wine and then staggering to find a cab past the oh so quiet King’s – pretty incredible I think that people have been doing the same stagger for 350 years.