Monthly Archives: September 2019

I have been overcome with a strong desire to kiss the ground in the last few weeks but last night it was the washing machine. Oh what a totally wonderful sight. After my Irish fuel issues, I eventually got back to London in the middle of the after-work madness. From Gatwick to London, collected the damn bags (wanted to throw them in the Thames) and then the cross-country expedition to Newark and then Lincoln. The first train was one of the lovely new LNER European style trains, the second was the lovely, character filled country single carriage train to Lincoln that rattled endlessly.

Staggered off the train with the damn bags and an easy walk to my totally wonderful new home. Well might be my temporary new home, but I could easily move in permanently tomorrow and I wouldn’t need to buy a single thing. They look after you so well at the University of Lincoln and while it was disappointing to miss Jan and John, the welcome here is almost as good as Ireland. My lovely apartment is huge and beautifully appointed. I am a bit of a fan of Tesco and there is a little Tesco over the road, a sublime washing machine, a lovely stroll to my office, a lovely EA in the office and Netflix – life couldn’t get much better

Well I had the funniest Irish 24 hours. Arrived into Dublin reasonably late in the day and stayed at the lovely Hotel 7 in the centre of the city. Dublin is such a tourist city. There were Americans everywhere and lots of singing of Irish tunes. The Pogues were blaring out of shops and Guinness was running freely. I needed to find some cash as the parking meters only took coins. I must have visited ever single ATM in Dublin before a lovely man explained why they were all out of order. Seems it is a regular occurrence every Sunday night when the machines run out of cash. I climbed back up to the hotel and managed to do an Irish deal to get the precious coins I needed. Of course I had some evil UK currency but I might as well have been trying to pay with rocks.

I strolled out on Monday morning and thought I had walked into some sort of major incident. Well I had, sort of. Boris was in town. I have never ever seen so many men with guns. I stayed well clear and left Dublin headed North again. I got to the airport in plenty of time (thank goodness). I pull up at a brand new fuel station that was self-pay. I put my credit card in and it was rejected. Went through four credit cards all refused. They don’t take cash. I thought it must be the pump. Moved the car to a different spot and then started the whole process again. Still rejected. In desperation I picked up the phone. In the broadest Irish accent ever – ‘oh no luv – we haven’t had time to fix the machines, so they take those foreign cards. The kids have been sick, the wife is tired and I really need to lay off the whiskey’ – Oh I just need to get fuel. He sent me up the road a few miles. By this time I was getting a little angsty about my flight. I found the fuel station, handed over my credit card – oh no – he looked at my card and then the whole Kenny discussion started again. I managed to escape but obviously there was a problem with Easy Jets credit card too – some raving message about no fuel, a flight delay and to have a drink – I literally only understood half of it, the accent was so strong. What a lovely time I had.

My beautiful, temporary little vehicle was turned South. Like a typical Aussie, I planned to see the whole of Ireland in a weekend. I left Limerick and ended up in the main street of Killarney. What a cool place. It looked like a film set from some corny Irish movie, with the main street swung with bunting and Irish pipes blaring. What is clear in Ireland is the people are just fantastic. I have never felt so welcome anywhere. People just talk to you non-stop – standing at the ATM an intense conversation, queuing at the loo, more great conversation, wandering aimlessly,  accosted for half an hour to hear about the relatives in Killarney, Victoria. Made the mistake of saying that I had family in Killarney, Australia who came from the South in Ireland – a three-hour conversation, with everyone on the street pulled into it asking me whether I knew the Murphy’s and every other Irish surname ever known. OMG I made the mistake (when I was asked) and gave my surname  – oh dear they started again. I finally turned the car to the Ring of Kerry after being invited to stay by random people in the street. The drive was lovely. Of course, the Irish weather turned in 5 minutes and I found myself on steep hills completely surrounded by mist. As I stood on ancestral lands my imagination ran wild. I couldn’t see two feet in front of me and then all of a sudden, the sun would break through, with great shards of light. I was totally convinced I could see deannaigh fairy rising from the mounds – I am sure the wee siog were hiding, desperate for a chat.

I had the most fabulous sleep in the lovely Crowne Plaza in stunning bushland a few minutes from Belfast Centre. I must have been tired as woke up this morning with all of the lights on and children’s television blaring Bob the Builder.  The Titanic Museum was simply amazing. One would never go there unless prepared for flashing lights and heaps of all sorts of virtual reality, but it was awesome. I loved the ground floor of the museum that was made of glass with the wreck of the Titanic below. Every wall was projecting the sea and the wreck, and I did actually feel like I was in Titanic’s watery grave.

From the Belfast docks to one of the most beautiful coastal drives in the world was super easy. The Causeway Coastal drive took a couple of hours, but past some of the most stunning scenery ever. The cliffs, views of Scotland, and the fishing villages were simply beautiful. I had stood in Colonsay and seen Ireland, but today, the stunning clear weather meant I could almost touch Scotland.  It was so surprisingly close. The basalt columns in Country Antrim were impressive, but completely overrun by tourists. It was worth the drive for the stunning coastal views, but the millions of people and the exceptionally touristy visitors centre in the home of the giants made me determined to visit in winter when the masses have cleared out.

The drive back along the highway was pretty quick and I turned the lovely car South. I didn’t realise that I had entered a different country until the road signs changed to km. I skirted around Belfast and Dublin and sang my way through Tipperary. Tonight, I am sitting in the fantastic Absolute Hotel in Limerick and have just had the most absolutely fantastic dinner. It came with a beautifully shaped bowl of goodness knows what. A quick poke made me realise. Of course, I am in Ireland. A great big bowl of absolutely fantastic mashed potatoes washed down with a very good G&T.

Work has been pretty frenetic, so I escaped for the weekend aboard a super cheap Easy Jet flight to my ancestral home.

The Premier Inn Hubs are my very favourite hotels and I always stay in Goodge Street. On my return from the not so gorgeous city of Stoke on Trent, Goodge Street was fully booked. I found a great Hub tucked in behind Kings Cross and I think the location is just perfect. I am totally over carrying suitcases so dumped the bags, packed knickers and a toothbrush, and dressed like a bag lady for my Irish runaway. Of course, running down the road to Kings Cross there is not another person in sight except one very dapper suave looking gentleman who I immediately recognised and thought OMG. Toby from Lincoln greeted me warmly and it will be lovely to see him next week, where the Chanel lipstick might need to come out to make up for the Kings Cross vagrant look.

My flight into Belfast was pragmatic as I was keen to see the Giant’s Causeway before Boris stuffs up the border. I expected Belfast airport to be quite big and busy but as we landed, the little sheds made me quickly re calibrate my head.

I handed over my license to the lovely Irish lilted young man at the car hire desk. With the gift of the Irish silver tongue, he explained my little treat. My car hire was super cheap but when I turned toward the stunning Titanic Museum on the docks in Belfast it was a lovely brand new, never driven red Merc that was in my possession. I seriously won’t want to give it back.

There is something about London that always makes me feel that I am at home. After my quick trip through Paris to pick up jam for Fiona, the speedy sojourn through the tunnel really helped my head. The more the altitude dropped, the better I felt. As always, the quick trip from Paris to London was just lovely and it was very civilised sitting on the hurtling train munching on delicious quiche, washed down with a beautiful rosy French wine. I was super excited to walk off into the mad rush of London. It really is one of my favourite cities in the world. I had delicious dinner with the gorgeous Sarah at Aqua Shard and yep, London is still one of my favourite cities in the world.

The story of the young orphaned girl who lived with her grandfather high in the Alps near Chur was my very favourite as a child. Whilst much criticism has been directed at Spyri, the last time I visited the Alps I thought of Heidi the whole time, and this time was no different. I did an epic train trip from Venice. From 0 m above sea level I trained to Milano and then up the side of the Italian lakes to Tirano. From Tirano, I went to the highest railway crossing in Europe, reaching a height of 2,253m before I dropped slightly into St Moritz. Whilst the Bernina Express, and the UNESCO world heritage railway were absolutely stunning, by the time I got to St Moritz I had a shocking case of vertigo so changed my plans slightly and stayed put for a couple of days. I think the climb up Heidi’s mountains, albeit in a stunning train, and dehydration, literally did my head in. I stayed holed up at the very lovely Grand Hotel Des Bains Kempinski St. Moritz. It was lovely to have a hotel holiday, but I did rather wish everything would stop moving. Switzerland is so damn expensive. A bottle of water was more expensive than a good bottle of wine at home, even at the supermarket, and I decided that if I didn’t move myself, I could end up bankrupt.

The trip across Switzerland on the Glacier Express was lovely, but after another nine hours of Heidi’s height I crawled into bed in the lovely Hotel Bellerive with the mighty Matterhorn out the window and the whole room moving. I really did feel like I was a dizzy character on a chocolate box lid, with the Swiss chalets as far as I could see from my lovely balcony.

Our boat sailed right around the Mediterranean and you hardly felt it moving. Fiona and I had been cruising as kids and I did expect to have the same bit of sea sickness – seriously though, the thing hardly moved. It was so beautiful sailing along past islands and then at other times, seeing the sea as far as you could look. The sunsets were impossible to describe. I have been to Dubrovnik before and enjoyed my visit again. We sat and had beautiful lunch overlooking Kings Landing but gave up on climbing walls as the sun really was relentless. By the time we docked in Slovenia we were well and truly in holiday mode and just went for a little amble and then back onto the boat for a swim.

Coming into Venice was quite a sight. I had heard about the problems with boats on the Grand Canal, but our captain behaved and delivered us to the Venetian cruise terminal. The total organisation on the boat continued with our disembarkation and our trip to our lovely Airbnb, on one of the maze waterways of Venezia, was just lovely. The tourists weren’t quite so lovely, so note to self – do not ever visit Venezia in August.

I had thought a day at sea would be boring, but that was the best bit of being on a ship. I really could have quite happily stayed on board for the whole trip. Each morning the buses were lined up early and people streamed off for the various shore excursions. When the masses had departed, it was so lovely to have a leisurely breaky, a latte in the nice coffee shop, and then stroll off the ship when we were ready. Our day at sea was probably my favourite day. Probably made even more favourite by a fantastic massage with the most incredible view of the sea. It was so nice just to sit on deck, swim, and wander up to the very top of the ship to sing along to Abba in the dark at the open-air cinema as we sailed along the Greek coastline.

Our day in Argostoli was beautiful. I hate swimming in the sea as I am convinced some deadly sea creature will come up out of the sand and eat me. Swimming in the warm, clearest water I have ever seen changed my view of the salty depths. It was so beautiful. The only issue was that I needed to close my eyes as the whole of Italy and Greece were on holidays and the wall to wall cabanas, and millions of suntanned bodies, again felt like a total assault on the senses.

The restaurants on board were fantastic and the staff were equally as good. I am astounded how they managed to produce such beautiful meals, with so many people on board, but night after night the meals just kept getting better. The bars had the most fantastic entertainment and it was so nice to stroll down, listen to some great music, eat delicious food, and then fall into bed with the waves crashing.

Valetta in Malta was by far my favourite stop. I had never thought about Malta as a holiday destination, but it was so fantastic. The fortification of Valletta made me think I was caught up in an Indiana Jones movie. As we climbed in a lift to scale the massive sandstone walls, I expected to see some sort of Arabian bazaar – it had that feel about it. Once we entered the city though, it was stunningly Baroque, although looking across to Daenerys Mdina I did expect to see dragons flying the skies. I didn’t go on a cruise to see the places we visited, rather, the plan was to sit around reading in the sun without having to drag suitcases around. The little taster of Malta has put it firmly on my ‘will return’ list.