Ozbus11 "Down Under via All Over"

Bleary eyed and headachey from a 4am packing session, pulled up to Embankment in London to meet Ozbus crew and passengers. There was a pretty motley crew standing by Cleopatra's needle as I walked up with my 70 liter backpack plus Eastpak day sack. Trying to spot official Ozbus members for some sort of registration of arrival it was hard to make out who was family waving off relatives and who were passengers. Some were chatty, some were quiet – at 7am it was too early for me to make with the small talk. A quick hello to Phil, our leader for the mammoth 92 day bus journey to Sydney and the traditional family photo with parentals before we bunged our bags into the hold of the coach and set off.

Rolling away from Westminster, Phil made a quick introduction before letting us settle in. But whilst sitting at the back, listening to Phil what should I hear but a kerfuffel from another passenger apparently looking for 'Christine' and franticly looking out of the coach window onto the pavement. It was only Jo Thompson who was travelling with us writing about a midlife crisis Ozbus journey for The Telegraph. I could tell it was going to be an interesting ride. Whilst we let scenes of London roll past us, Phil played us a nice little tune for us. Little did we know how Billy Joel's 'We didn't start the fire' would become our signature tune for the start of the day.

We made a 10am Dover to Calais crossing having made the port in good time. Most of the bus was still pretty quiet with the only exchange between passengers going on with whoever was sitting around Jo. Our first bit of drama was had at Dover port when Jo's name was called over the loudspeaker having left her wallet at a Cafe. The crossing though, went smoothly and it was straight forward driving over the Belgium lowlands to Brugge. We arrived about 4pm and after settling into our hostel rooms, met in the bar for a cycle tour of the city with a celebratory beer after in the oldest pub. Absolutely loved Brugge. Everyone travels by bike and has the quaintest architecture. Some say it isn't somewhere you visit twice owing to it's size but I found myself saying - I'll come back here.

Brugge was only a stopover and the next morning it was a bright and breezy 8.15am start to head to St Goar in the Rhine Valley. I'd like to say that it was at this point that we all started to get to know each other but having been on board with everyone for just a week I feel as if I've always sort of known them. Among the 26 passengers there are 2 Aussies, 2 Irish lasses, a Frenchman, a Norwegian, 2 Germans, a Scots lady, a Canadian, 16 English people and a Kiwi tour leader. A suitably varied bunch ranging in age from the youngest of 18 to two 70 year olds. There are 3 couples, those who have left families behind, those taking career breaks and the familiar young backpacker. The variation in life status only fuels my story-telling spirit but others I think were hoping for a few more youngens traveling.

Arriving in St Goar mid-afternoonish, we sauntered around town for a couple of hours taking in views of the river, the big cuckoo clock and a couple of beers in the sub groups that we attached ourselves to. Luckily this bunch traveling don't seem to be forming cliques though there is a bit of seat hogging going on in the coach. We were staying on a campsite that night but not in actual tents. With the group split into girls, boys and optional caravan upgrade for couples, we were directed to a fairly interesting camping barn set up. It was top and bottom bed platforms with two mattresses laid side by side, fairly loosely divided into cabins. The evening saw us enjoy a traditional dinner of Schnitzel (beat up meat to tenderize) cooked by the wonderfully charismatic owner of the campsite. After dinner we were treated to regional wine tasting hosted by the owner when it became clear that perhaps his charisma was due to a bit too much wine tasting of his own.

Ozbus left St Goar in early morning low valley cloud to make our way to Prague. It was only day 3 and we experienced our first border, albeit a tame one, and money change. I'd heard a lot of Prague and it being the center of true Bohemia from friends but arriving at the city late afternoon, I wasn't overly impressed. Hoping for that to change, Ozbus debarked into the biggest hostel we had stayed in yet. One with it's own currency apparently as we were told that the only way to purchase food and drink was to load our key cards with money only to find out later that they did accept cash at the bar. Most of us stayed in that evening to enjoy the traditional 'pizza' in the hostel Restaurant.

Day 4 was our first free day of non-travel. I nearly missed the optional morning coach trip into the historic center due to a sort of barrage of emails from my parents. Having made it into town, the morning was spent wandering from site to site. In the main square there is an astrological clock that strikes and puts on a sort of show for a tourist crowd. Amongst the many shops and cafes there was one recommended to us for a spectacular terrace. The U Prince was indeed lovely with suitably lovely price tags. As we drunk our valuable small glasses of fizzy drinks we watched a bride and groom pose for their wedding photos in a trellised corner overlooking the rooftops of Prague. It was beautiful and I promised myself that when I have something nice like expendable income, I will come back and stay in that hotel.

Otherwise Prague did not leave a lasting impression on me. We had a good group dinner, good value apart from my Risotto that seemed to be just undercooked rice with a lot of secret sauce. Perhaps I had too many expectations from years of looking forward to be immersed in my spiritual home of true bohemianism. Before long we were off again, this time a short ride away to Vienna. We arrived there around 4pm and after a short walk to our hostel, those of us who wanted to, met for an excursion to the oldest fairground in Europe. Apparently scenes from the The Third Man and Bond have been filmed there. The rides weren't exactly cheap but you didn't have to buy any tokens and the park was fairly quiet no queing - hurrah.

After purging myself on a few classics and one official really scary one, I was tired and went straight to bed after a free 'thanks for staying with us' beer back at the hostel. Out of all the hostels we've stayed at so far, Wombat's in Vienna has provided the best breakfast. There's nothing like a varied choice for breakfast. Our free day here involved a few of us walking round town before deciding what to do. Another girl and I spotted the Leopold Museum which had Klimt and other Art Nouveau artists on display which we headed to late on in the morning. In the Museums Quarter which was where the museum was located, we had a bite to eat and made our way round the exhibition. Towards the end however, I rushed through a few as I wanted to head back to the hostel to make myself look decent for an evening of traditional classical entertainment in a small Opera house. By decent I mean, non- "I've been wearing the same clothes for a good two years now" and slap a bit of the ol' make-up on that I carry with me for such occasions.

That evening was interesting but the free glass of champagne that swayed me to sign up really did taste – free. The Vienna Orchestra that was performing a selection of favourites from Mozart and Straus were very pro with traditional Vienna dress on. We were treated to a few Opera scenes also along with a ballet duo who didn't seem that fussed about their performances. But you know, doing that twice a night maybe nearly every night, who would? And for this reason there was a part of me that wished I was sipping good champagne in a good dress, watching performers really get into the art that they were expressing. I would recommend the night for sure, but I think it was tainted a little with the aspect of tourism. Vienna as a whole though had a very fine effect on me and I can see myself wanting to explore the city in greater detail in years to come.

The next morning I barely managed to fit all my first washed clothes back into my bag before rushing down to the coach for an 8.30 departure. We were on our way to Bratislava only about an hour away and down the River Danube for morning coffee. Here was another quaint little snapshot of a historical town center that had an atmosphere about it that I found appealing. Another town to add to the list. But only an hour was had here before were all back on the bus again, heading for a 'real' border.