In Bruges

I'll admit that our decision to go to Bruges was based on loving the film In Bruges. Partly because it was cheap and convenient on the Eurostar, but mainly it was because of the film. However, we didn't encounter any Irish hitmen. Our trip did include the following:

I took a lot of photographs of the picturesque views, especially the canals.

We did a brewery tour and drank a lot of Belgian beer.


We went to a free music festival, where the audience seemed to consist mainly of glum clowns




I drank an "interesting" coconut beer from a coconut bowl.

Honeymarooned

Should I pretend I am writing this from an overcrowded airport, where we have been camped out for days, suffering boredom only interupted by assaulting airline staff, rioting with other passengers and crying for the television cameras?

Our "stranded" overseas experience has been vastly different from what I'm seeing on the television here and what my family are telling me is being shown back in the UK. We extended our stay in the apartment we had rented until the next people were arriving and today we have moved into a hotel. Not a hotel I would have normally picked, but it is cheap and clean, I'm writing this from the desk in the bedroom, there is a pool and gym and there is a "pillow menu" in case the standard pillows don't meet requirements. So I don't feel I can complain too much.

At the moment we are paying for it ourselves and there is no guarantee that we will be able to claim any of it back. By the time we get back, I will have had a month off work (until last year, I'd never taken two weeks holiday before) so will likely face a nightmare when I get back in. But still I'm enjoying myself.

City of Angels (and Roads)

It made a change to go somewhere that we didn't fall in love with and want to live. Most of the other places we've been in recent years (Cornwall, west coast of Scotland, New Forest, San Francisco, even Madeira) have looked like great places to live and we've started to look at property prices and job opportunities with vague ideas of how plausible it would be to move there. That didn't happen with Los Angeles.

I was glad I went and I enjoyed my time there, but for once I didn't wish I lived there rather than London.

My abiding impression of LA is of roads, lots of big roads. As a non-driver a place that is so reliant having a car was always going to have its work cut out to win me over, but I thought it would have something more to it. There didn't seem to be a real heart to the place, rather lots of districts with their own character, connected by big roads.

Hollywood Boulevard reached surreal levels of tackiness, but there wasn't really much there unless you wanted your photograph taken with a Marilyn look-abit-alike or one of the three spidermen.

Sunset Strip with its infamous bars was a bit grittier (lots of hair and tattoos), but it didn't live up to its mythical status. Any last thoughts about River Phoenix's death being a rock n roll way to go were dispelled by the reality of the Viper Rooms being a dive at the side of a big road (if the drugs hadn't finished him off then the traffic probably would have).

I attempted to recreate "In Search of a Midnight Kiss" by walking around the downtown area looking at the disused and unloved theatres. The older parts of downtown had some beautiful buildings, but they were disgracefully neglected and now home to assorted shops selling assorted tat. The newer parts were impressive, I quite liked the Blade Runner skyline and the Walt Disney Concert Hall is stunning. But there wasn't really much there (plenty of roads though).

I still want to move to San Francisco though.

Some thoughts on Flying

I actually quite like flying. I find the take-off and landing exciting. It is the in-between parts that I find difficult.

People will go to sleep in airports with an abandon that you don't see anywhere else. They will lie down on the floor, in the middle of the day, fully clothed, with their belongings left unattended and sleep. It doesn't happen anywhere else.

Airline food is invariably awful, but I love the ritual of it. The little trays, with the plastic cutlery, the antipation of opening up the dishes. It is a feast in miniature with more courses than I'd normally have (the main, the salad, the dessert, the cheese) - although in small and often inedible. The worst I had was a risotto served with side order of rice salad and on the outward flight the woman next to me had a pasta dish accompanied by a pasta salad.

Air hostesses are nowhere near as glamorous as they were in the Sixties.

Out of Office message

I will be away now until after Easter. Off to California.

The heat and superficiality of LA.
The fog and crippling hills of San Francisco.

I can't wait.

Hen Dos and Don'ts

Hello. Apologies for the silence. I've been preoccupied with something and didn't feel like talking, even to myself on the internet, but I'm coaxing myself out of it and thought I'd post the overdue hen report. Actually there isn't really much to report, but I should write something.

The T-Shirt
At 6am in Newcastle airport, wearing a t-shirt printed with the slogan "Hen Do" was actually pretty subtle. There were girls in tutus, a large party dressed in what I hope was meant to be bad taste and several stags in silly garb. We also had to wear it for our "big" night out on the Saturday. Again, it was pretty tasteful compared with the hens in bondage, the stags as superheros and the cowgirls.

The Accommodation
It really wasn't as bad as my sister had feared, except (and this is probably a pretty big except) there was an overwhelming smell in the corridors that I can only describe as chemical fish. We never quite managed to work out what it was or where it was coming from, except it wasn't so bad on the day that the cleaners didn't come round, so we thought they might be using some fish-based detergent.

The Pool
Before I went I was on an excercising binge and it continued well into the first day of the trip when I swam loads and tried to start an aqua aerobics class in the pool. My plans to get up early for morning swim were scuppered not by too much alcohol, but by the policy of locking the gates to the pool until 10am.

There really wasn't any scandal or gossip. There weren't any fallings out although by the time I came home I was looking forward to some time to myself. I'm off on another one this weekend though, this time to York.

Vive España (Part 2)

Tomorrow I’m off to Spain. Not to congratulate the team in person on their football win, but for my sister’s hen do.

Our destination isn’t Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, Seville or any other place that I’d have welcome the chance to go to. Our destination is the Costa del Sol.

Months ago when it was being planned, my sister’s opening line about it was “Now I know this won’t be your kind of thing but…” Of course, I was always going to go, although jokingly I did say that I couldn’t guarantee that I would enjoy myself.

I was looking forward to it (you’ll notice the use of the past tense here). A few days in the sun with my sisters (and a few complete strangers) sounded quite nice. Even on the Costa del Sol, I should be able to have sangria and tapas.

Then last week, my sister informs me that she has had some t-shirts printed with “D’s Hen Do 2008” and mine has the word “Bridesmaid” on the back. I questioned the need for the year on the t-shirt as it implied that it might be an annual event but they had already gone to print. Apparently we are all wearing our t-shirts on the journey. “At least you won’t get lost”, smirked the OH.

The Streets of...

I'm back from San Francisco. I loved it. England seems very cold and flat in comparision.


I wondered if there were would be enough for us to do over a week but it really wasn't long enough and despite a packed schedule, I'm sure there is so much we didn't manage to do and I'd definitely go back - tomorrow if I didn't have to work!

As it was our first visit, we did a lot of tourist sites, which has resulted in the obligatory cliched photographs:




Cable Car turning around
My new favourite mode of transport. Yes, its expensive, slow and chilly, but I loved it.












Lombard Street
Really who thought it would be a good idea to build a city where there were so many hills? My feet still haven't recovered.









Alcatraz
I feared it would be tacky but it wasn't. It was fascinating. As its now a national park, they were keen to stress that there was more to the island than the infamous prison, but that is still what most people wanted to know about.






City Lights Book Store
The shop associated with The Beats. We stopped by and bought a few books, despite the OH's mutterings that Jack Kerouac was the most over-rated writer ever.











Haight Ashbury Sign
It had to be done, even though the old Sixties hangout is dominated by shops selling tat.









Coit Tower
An exhausting walk uphill and up stairs to reach the tower, which apparently gave the best views in the city. But with so many high points, the view weren't really that much better than from anywhere else and after the Alcatraz boat, I felt like the tower was swaying. so we didn't stay up there for long.








The Bay Bridge at Night
The less famous of the city's bridges, it apparently won't withstand another earthquake.









Wine Country
I don't normally like the countryside but even I loved it here. Unfortunately we couldn't really bring back any wine but I did sample plenty and lots of gorgeous food too.









The Golden Gate Bridge
Regular readers may recall that I don't like bridges. I made it a little way across this one before I thought I was going to vomit. The fact that there had been a ten car smash up the day before didn't help. It really would be a good idea for them to put something in between the two directions of traffic.



And some perhaps more unusual pictures:



A Man with a Basketball for a Head
We went to watch the Golden State Warriors play Houston. This was my third basketball game and I really enjoyed it this time.








A Giraffe
Not native to California - we went to the zoo! The OH said that the giraffes reminded him of me. I'm taking that as a compliment.











Giant Broccoli
A plant in the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park. It looked just like my favourite vegetable.









The Jefferson Airplane section of a secondhand record shop

My favourite 1960s San Francisco band. We'll gloss over what they went on to become.







Warning Sign

Good advice found on the wall of Vesuvio bar.








The only bad thing that I saw (apart from those gradients!) was that the city seems to have a terrible problem with homeless people. Living in London, I thought was used to seeing people begging, but I've not seen anything on this scale before. It was really very sad and I wondered why all of these people had come to be in that situation and if it was similar across over US cities.

As the old song goes, I did misplace my heart there but I think my body clock is still somewhere over the Atlantic as I'm keeping very strange hours. At 4am this morning I watched the end of a Discovery channel documentary about the 1906 earthquake in SF which ended with a very grim warning for the future. So I'm glad I went when I did and that I didn't see the documentary before.

Christmas Catch Up

Should I do a little round up of what has happened in the eons since I last posted?

Christmas
We spent in the north with my family. It was the first time the OH and I had actually spent Christmas together as he normally spends it with his family. I was apprehensive about this to say the least, but it went ok. Yes, my family bickered and irritated me, but really it wasn’t so bad. We all survived.

It was very sad going to visit my auntie in hospital where she is making slow progress after her stroke. She is making some progress, but when her speech is limited to Good Morning, Yes and No (which she often gets around the wrong way) it is frustrating, and clearly gets her down. On the upside, the MRSA has gone so she should be able to start proper therapy soon.

The OH bought me a great present which wasn’t what I was expecting at all – he bought me a day at the Sanctuary Spa which I’ve always wanted to go to but have been put off by the price. So I’ve got a day of pampering and relaxation to look forward to at some point in 2008. I also received lots of other good gifts, including the book of the exhibition I went to a while ago (Amazon Wishlists are a wonderful thing for guiding the family in the right direction!).


New Year
We decide to opt out of New Years Eve celebrations by going away, just the two of us. We went to Canterbury to stay at the Abode Hotel, having enjoyed the one in Glasgow so much. So we watched films and drank champagne in bed as midnight struck and I enjoyed it enormously.

The strangest thing that happened over the holiday was that I got quite into the darts! I was scathing of it at first but was sucked in by Wayne “Hawaii 501” Mardle, his garish shirts and his range of facial expressions. Sadly, just after I’d adopted him as my favourite, he went out of the competition. But I still enjoyed the final and was amusing the OH with my almost insightful observations by the end of the tournament.

Quote of the Week

We are relaxing in the hydrotheraphy pool, bubbles bubbling around us. Very relaxing.

The OH turns and look at me and says "This is what it must feel like to be a carrot.... Or pasta"

Its not how it was described in the brochure and I doubt they'll be using it in the marketing in time soon, but its an interesting comparison.

Hello, I'm Back

Back from the New Forest. Unfortunately, there was no cycling down forest lanes wearing a pretty dress and the hat. As anyone in the UK willl be aware, that was because of the rain. It rained, it rained somemore, and then it paused for a bit, just long enough for you to get your stuff together and outside, before it rained again. Still we got off lightly compared with many parts of the country and as we are were staying in a spa hotel, it didn't matter much - we just did lots of swimming, sitting around in steam room, pools and saunas instead and had a lovely time.

Just Like Riding A Bike

At the end of the month, we are having a mini-break to the New Forest. It will involve a spa, wine on the veranda, craft shops and other relaxing fun.

The OH however has also suggested that it should also involve cycling.

I’m not a natural born cyclist. I haven’t been on a bicycle for 17 years (half-hearted attempts on an exercise bike aren’t the same) since I nearly went under a lorry on one in Germany on a school exchange trip because the brakes didn’t work properly. I’m also not blessed with the greatest balance in the world and I’m scared of traffic, although the latter excuse won’t wash if we stick to cycle paths.

All of the OH’s friends’ partners seem to be the sort of girls who love this kind of thing – outdoorsy, hearty country girls with rosy cheeks, sensible shoes and a Girl Guide spirit. I am not. In fact, I’m about as far removed as that as possible.

But to keep him happy I thought I should give it a go.

Then another thought occurred to me – what does one wear to ride a bicycle? My planned holiday attire (one of the most important elements of a holiday for me) was going to be whimsical dresses, sandals, perhaps a wide-brimmed hat, maybe some wide-legged trousers if the weather wasn’t so good. At no point was it ever going to involve anything that can be purchased in Millets or Blacks (I’ve surprised myself here by even knowing the names of Outdoor Activity shops). But I suspect I may at least need something that covers my limbs to provide protection against scraps and falls – already negative thoughts are overtaking me.

I know its one of those things you are never supposed to forget how to do, but really its been a long time and I have a habit of being the exception that’s proved many a rule.

A Chic Retreat

I knew it would happen. Having previously vowed to forego a holiday this year, I have found myself thinking about a little break. With the moving and decorating stress, I feel that I will soon need (and indeed, deserve) a little holiday and yesterday I found myself browsing holiday websites. In particular, this one - Chic Retreats. Why did I have to look at this site. Everywhere on it looks beautiful. Some of them are wildly expensive but others are affordable for a mini-break if (and this is a very big if) we get our deposit back from our rented flat (there is no real reason why we shouldn't get it back but its always a struggle with landlords & letting agents).

So thoughts of boutique hotels have temporarily pushed aside thoughts of curtains, cushions and rugs.

California Dreamin'

We are unlikely to have a proper holiday this year. We might go to Devon later in the year to stay with or housesit for a couple we know who are moving down there soon, but we won't have a proper holiday. This is mainly down to the flat-buying, but not just the money side of it - the OH only has five days holiday to last until July and a couple of those will need to be used for the move and decorating etc.

But we've decided to go to San Francisco on holiday next spring.

I'm very excited about this, even though it is ages away. I've wanted to go to San Francisco for a long time, but was having trouble persuading the OH. He is very much in love with New York and would happily go there for every holiday. But last week, he relented and agreed that SF might be worth a visit. Nothing to do with my powers of persuasion - more the promise of another basketball stadium and a suitable hotel from the same group as his beloved Muse Hotel in NY.

I've acquired a Rough Guide to California through the book swap website. It is 12 years out of date, but I thought it would do for now so that we can plan roughly what areas we want to go to and then I'll get a more up-to-date version before we go. I spent most of Saturday reading this and am even more excited I will be re-reading Kerouac, listening to Jefferson Airplane and watching Vertigo (and Monk) for further research purposes over the next year.

Can I sustain this excitement for 15 months or will my mind wander like a butterfly onto something else?

Pasties, Scrumpy, Fudge and Clotted Cream

Back from a wonderful holiday in Cornwall - Lelant, just outside of St Ives for anyone who knows the area. It was lovely - I'd even go so far as to say its one of the best holidays I've ever had. Here's a quick round-up of what happened

Friday: epic train journey. Arrived in the dark and had to scramble around looking for the key which had been strategically hidden.

Saturday: went for a walk to explore the local area. Saw a dead badger on the pavement, which was very traumatic as it was the first time I'd seen a real badger before. OH tried to pretend it was just asleep so I wouldn't be so upset but he wasn't very convincing and to be fair it did have its legs stuck up in the area. Nearly got hit by a golf ball when walking to the beach - the coastal path cutting dangerously through the links golf course. OH cooked a lasagne for tea - he's been promising to do this since we moved in together 6 and a bit years ago.

Sunday: Went to St Ives for the afternoon. St Ives is lovely - it really doesn't look like somewhere in England - kind of Mediterranean looking. Ate the first pasty of the trip which I can understand why they would have been popular with workers like fishermen and miners as they really do fill you up for the day, but now I could happily go the rest of my life without eating another one.

Monday: Took the bus to Penzance, had a quick look a round before getting the bus to Lands End. Saw the Merry Maidens stone circle thing from the bus - didn't know anything about this before and didn't realise it was something of note until a woman asked to get off the bus there - it was another hour until the return bus so we wondered what she found to do there for all that time. Lands End was pretty dramatic but not really much to do there unless you shell out money for the tacked on attractions. We didn't - instead we ate another pasty, took some photos and then returned to Penzance on an open top bus! In October, an open top bus is a matter of endurance (or stupidity) but fortunately we made it back to Penzance before it rained.

Tuesday: Another long walk and then another trip to St Ives. Unimpressed by the Barbara Hepworth museum - £4.75 entry fee seemed rather steeped - have decided I'm not that keen on sculpture as an art form. Dined in the pub opposite our cottage - had far too much as I gave in to the bread & butter pudding.

Wednesday: Went to Truro for the day, still feeling bloated from the night before's feast. Wandered aimlessly around, resisting the temptation to go into Topshop.

Thursday: another trip to St Ives, had the obligatory cream tea, walked most of the way back along the coastal path.

Friday: epic journey in reverse. Very sad to be going as I'd quite settled into village life.

I'm off!

Against the odds, I've survived to the end of the week and am about to start my holiday, much deserved even if I do say so myself. It took ages to pack and I'm still convinced I've not got enough (the big towel and warm jacket are taking up most of the room). And an update on the Owl situation - I've found a top to wear him with, so will wowing the Cornish folk with him.

Slight Return

Back in London now. Leaving my family always makes me a feel a bit low, even though I'm pleased to be back with the OH and in my own bed.

Anyway, only four and a bit days until our holiday to Cornwall. For the first time in about 5 years, we are going away for a whole week. Admittedly, it is still to somewhere that is unlikely to be warm, as it will be October. But it should be relaxing. which is what is needed.

We are hiring a cottage that looks so beautiful - beams on the ceiling, wood burner fire, yards from a pub, near the sea - sounds pretty much ideal.

I'm concerned that it is going to be unbearable coming back to our cramped London flat after the luxury of somewhere with a separate dining room and conservatory.

The plan is to do lots of walking, reading and curling up in front of the fire. I just have to get through a week at work first.

Old Durham Town

Yesterday, I was in Durham for work. Despite being from not far away, I've only been to Durham a handful of times in my life and not at all in recent times. Obviously I go through it on the train on the way home and always look at the window at it, but I was still impressed with how pretty is was. I had a friend at school who lived in Durham who was from a very religious family and I thought yesterday that prehaps I too would have believed in God if I lived in Durham.

It was quite difficult to get back to my mum's from Durham as the trains to Newcastle weren't very frequent. While I was waiting I kept thinking of the Roger Whittaker song Durham Town. Not my usual type of music or something I expect many people of my generation to be familiar with, but I remember my dad pointing out the error in the lyrics as it talks about the river Tyne, when actually Durham is on the Wear. He also claimed that Roger Whittaker used to lodge in a guest house a few houses up our street. I've no idea if this is true, but thought about it as I waited for the train.

Travelling Light

Why can’t I do it? Why does going away for a few days always result in me dragging out half of my wardrobe to try on and packing at least four types of footwear?

I’m going away for work tomorrow, up north to near where my family live, so I’m taking the rest of the week off and staying up there. This has worked out rather nicely for me, but I'm really stuggling with the packing.

After much deliberation (and trying on three pairs of trousers in Warehouse) I have decided it will just be easier to wear my suit for the work part of the trip. But then there is the rest of the stay. Realistically, I know its probably just going to be some drinks in my friend's local and a meal out with my family but I'm incapable of not taking a few reserve outfits.

The remainder of the time will then be spent visiting my gran in her new old folks home and my auntie who is still housebound with her superbug, helping my sister to buy a computer and watching the Hallmark Channel with the dog. Special outfits are probably not really needed for these activities - I know this and yet I still procrastinate.

A night of packing, unpacking and repacking beckons.

Wish You Were Here

I grew up in a seaside town. Lots of the houses on our street were guest houses and there were chalets on the beach. As a child, I used to walk along looking at the B&Bs and play the game of deciding which one I would stay in if I was there on holiday. Most of them had brass ornaments in the their front windows - the bigger the brass, the better the accommodation seemed to be the implication with houses competing with each other with ever more outlandish window displays.


In retrospect, I don't think we had that many tourists. I remember a couple of families staying in the next door house whose children became my friends for their brief stay, but really most of the guests would have been long distance lorry drivers and seamen. The Council tries its hardest to promote it as a tourist destination - its beautiful beaches (where its always bitterly cold), the Roman Fort(!), and of course the famous local author. She has her own museum (complete with a recreation of the kitchen in the house she grew up in) and each carriage of the steam train in the park is named after one of her books. You wonder why anyone would choose to go to Spain or Florida.

Now I live in one of the busiest capital cities in the world and it still surprises me that people want to come here on holiday. Perhaps because I've never visited London as a tourist (I had only been here a couple of times - once shopping, once on a protest march) and there are still lots of the sights I've never 'done' despite being here nearly 10 years. I just don't see the attraction.

Leicester Square tube station has a souvenir shop - bears dressed as beefeaters, union jack t-shirts, the usual shit. It seems preposterous to me as I go through the station everyday on my way to and from work that someone is holidaying here and might want to buy a reminder of it. Not that a bear in fancy dress would remind me of London.

Sometimes, as I walk around Covent Garden, I want to shout at the tourists 'What are you doing here? There is nothing here that you can't buy somewhere else for half the price'. And then those living statue things - 'Stop looking at them. You are only encouraging them'. So far, I haven't actually done this, I've just thought it, but one day I will surely snap.

I feel in the need of another holiday, but not in either of these places, which is looking like my only options.