Day 2 - Her name is Rio...
29 september 2024, Brazilië ⋅ 🌙 23 °C
08:45
All told, a successful flight/journey. We time our arrival at the departure gate to perfection, and are instantly called to board. We’re on a refitted BA 777. I don’t know who does BA’s interior design, but they should be sacked. They take planes that other airlines can make appear spacious, light and comfortable, and turn them into dark and cramped environments.
We remarked as we were boarding that the amount of cabin baggage brought by some people beggars belief. There are many suitcases that don’t really fit in the overhead lockers. Most have to go in sideways, which is not really in the sprit of the game. The space quickly runs out. There are many people still to board, and they’re dragging large bags behind them. The pace of boarding slows to glacial. Eventually, everyone’s on board, but there remain 10-15 bags that require a home. The cabin crew do their damnedest, but it takes a while. The plane actually starts moving before everyone has taken their seat, which again - is not really the way it’s supposed to be.
It’s a long flight - around 11 hours. We’re fed and watered a couple of hours after take off, and Vicki and I both settle into a deep snooze. I wake up a few times feeling a little queasy, and definitely too warm. I bought myself a new travel pillow for this trip. It’s made of memory foam, which is famously hot. I remove the pillow, and fall back to sleep, waking feeling much better.
I manage about 5 hours, and Vicki nearly 6. Tam’s not one for numbers, but declares she’s well rested. The flight’s been a little turbulent. Nothing too freaky, but we’re all glad when the Captain tells us we’re beginning our descent. We land into Rio about 15 minutes ahead of schedule, which is a cracking result. The same plane is heading on to Buenos Aires after a quick refuelling stop, and as few as half the passengers are disembarking in Brazil. Passport control is completed in a flash, and our bags take next to no time to arrive. We’re packed into our cab only 30 minutes after landing, and at our hotel less than an hour after touching down. That’s some pretty good going.
There’s a minor snafu at the hotel when it transpires that www.booking.com (I always name and shame) have failed to inform the hotel that we’re turning up this early, and have paid to be able to check in on arrival. The folks at the reception desk are very understanding though, and sort us out quickly enough. The hotel’s pretty basic, but clean and comfortable. Breakfast is included, which is a bonus.We grab a coffee and snacks.
05:30 is a weird time to arrive into a new city. We’re in strange hinterland where we’re not quite tired enough to crash, but not quite jaunty enough to go out and explore. It’s also 05:30, so there’s not much currently to go and explore. We’d always planned to have a quiet (ish) day today, to give us some journey recovery time. I’m minded to have a nap…
16:30
Take THAT mofos! I have a delicious and deep two hour sleep. Much needed apparently… We head out around 12:30 for a wander around our local neighbourhood, to grab some food. We pitch up at the brilliantly named Booze Bar. Tamsin and I have our first Caipirinhas of the trip, which are sensational. Real mouth zingers. Vicki has perhaps the most memorable mocktail of her career to date - a bright pink concoction featuring rose water and lemon juice, and named ‘The Barbie.’ Were this not enough, it’s served on a pink neon contraption that just takes our breath away… We settle in for some food. It takes us a fair while to pick our dishes, largely because our Portuguese is simply not up to scratch. Google Translate is a wonderful thing though, so we end up picking moderately wisely. I have a Fejoiada, close as damn it to Brazil’s national dish. The main event is a black bean stew with pieces of fresh and cured pork. Delish.
Sated, we wander up the road towards the famous Escadaria Selarón, a vividly painted staircase in the Lapa neighbourhood. The paintings are beautiful, and there’s a very relaxed feeling in the air - whether that’s because it’s a Sunday, or just that we’re relaxing into the city, I’m not 100% sure. Tam sits for a while to people watch, and Vicki and I continue the climb to the summit. It’s further than we had perhaps intended. About 2/3 of the way up, we pause next to a Caipi stall (for that’s what they’re called), and I have my 3rd Caipirinha of the afternoon. They come in 3 sizes - large, larger and ridiculous. I go for the 500ml, middle ground option. I’m a little stunned when I see about 4 shots of Cachaca being added to it. That’s gonna leave a mark… The cost of this nectar is a little under £1.
Vicki and I complete our ascent, and wobble our way back down the stairs. It’s a somewhat vertiginous experience… We park up next to Tamsin, and join in the people watching event. There are many, many content creators, creating much, much content. We’re particularly bemused by some nuns that look like they come from the Missionaries of Charity, made famous by Mother Theresa. The bemusement is that they appear to be Nuns of Instagram, so vehemently are they posing for pictures. Oh, and there’s a chap in a rugby shirt apparently squeezing spots on his chest. Lovely.
21:00
We’re all a touch jaded. Vicks as she’s just not had much sleep, and Tamsin and I in part, I suspect, due to Caipirinhas. We agree some rest time is a good idea before we head out for some dinner. Vicki is adamant she won't nap, but by 17:30, is changing her mind. I set an alarm for 19:00, and wake up without issue. My beloved is more difficult to rouse. At 19:30, I give up, and ping Tam to let her know we’re on our own this evening. She replies that she’s exhausted and is gonna sleep it out. I pour myself a glass of wine, and settle in to read my book. I suspect I won’t be a million miles behind them…Meer informatie
Day 1 - I've been here before...
28 september 2024, Brazilië ⋅ ☁️ 22 °C
16:30
One of the joys of keeping this journal has been the opportunity to read back over my adventures. On page 1 of this increasingly weighty tome (we’re up to about 400 pages now…) I wrote about the joys of a late flight, having time to relax before heading to the airport, of the joys of the airport having a demonstrably more chilled out atmosphere. Here we are fully 10 months later, and I’m going to repeat myself.
Today’s been a breeze. I was all packed up yesterday (Friday), but Vicki’s got acres of time to get packed before our 17:00 cab to Heathrow T5.
I head to the Signalman for lunch and a pint, and catch up with Romy - landlady extraordinaire. Brighton are playing away at Chelsea today, so the Signalman’s fairly quiet. I park myself in a corner, and spend a little time filling in the few remaining blanks in our plans for the next 3 weeks. Back at the ranch, Vicki is finished packing, and we’re itching to get on our way.
We’re meeting my cousin, Tamsin, at the airport. For those of you that have been keeping up with this year’s travels, she’s the mother of Felix the Giant, who accompanied me through Thailand, Cambodia and Singapore. She’s based up in York, but has stayed overnight with an old friend in Walthamstow. We’ve an 11 hour flight stretching in front of us, an overnight - so hopefully some decent sleeps to be had.
So - Brazil. I’ve got to admit, I’ve a little anxiety about this trip. Brazil has something of a reputation for street crime, particularly in the bigger cities. Chatting with my good friend, Alex, recently, he told me of a friend of his who recently got mugged in downtown Rio, walking home from dinner. There are some clear and obvious guidelines to follow, most of which fall under the ‘don’t be a dick’ rule. No ostentatious jewellery, keep your phone in your pocket as much as possible, generally look as scruffy as possible - that sorta thing. It does sound like walking around any of the cities by night is generally a no-no. Cabs for us then. I guess there’s also a sense of anxiety at the unknown. Even when I’ve visited new countries over the past year - Sri Lanka, Thailand, Cambodia - they’ve been closely aligned with the familiarity of India or Vietnam. This is my South American cherry being popped, and whilst it would be disingenuous to suggest I’ve no idea what to expect, I just don’t think it’s possible to know how you’re gonna feel about a place, until you’re in it.
There’s excitement too, though. The land of Capoeira, churrascarias, Candomblé, the Copacabana, carnival and Caipirinhas. There’s a LOT to which to look forward.
19:26
The journey up to Heathrow was a breeze. Our fave driver, Andy, picked us up in his uber-comfy Range Rover, and we shoot the breeze very happily along the way. Unintentionally, we end up talking about whether Brazil is a risky destination, and I wince slightly.
We’re into the departure lounge in good time, and find Tamsin in the T5 ‘Spoons. Other bars are available, but there’s something about an Airport ‘Spoons that just fits with our travelling style. Make of that what you will. We catch up over a couple of beers, and chat about our upcoming trip. We’re all tremendously excited, and all for slightly different things. Flight looks like it’s on time, so we order another round, and kick back…Meer informatie
Day 9 - Home. Meh. Reflections...
15 september 2024, Engeland ⋅ ☁️ 18 °C
13:00
We finally got home about 00:30, and were greeted at the front door by our ginger babies. They seemed pretty happy to see us. Vicki’s wiped out, so heads straight to bed. I sit up with the boys for a while, who only seem interested in me if I’m giving them food. By 01:00, I’m fading, and head to bed.
Vicki banks YET another 10 hours of kip. She’s a phenomenon.
A few reflections on Montenegro.
1) Staggeringly beautiful. I’m really not sure I’ve ever seen anywhere more beautiful than Kotor bay. It’s got everything - beautiful water, stunning mountain backdrops, pristine ancient Mediterranean architecture…
2) More expensive than I thought it would be. I’m not sure there are really (m)any bargains to be had in Europe anymore. Restaurant prices in Montenegro were pretty high, particularly for wine. Main courses were typically in the mid 20s. Supermarket prices were pretty steep.
3) Despite the cost, the food was great. Loads of very fresh fish, some really good quality beef, sensational shellfish. I was a little disappointed (again) not to see lamb on menus anywhere, but there were plenty of other options to keep me interested.
4) Montenegro and Montenegrins seem to be on a go-slow (in a good way). The pace of life is incredibly relaxed, and the very vast majority of folks we met were happy, smiling, and laid-back.
5) Climate change is a thing. I think we got pretty unfortunate with the amount and ferocity of rain we experienced, but these extreme weather events are going to be a constant part of our lives going forward…
That’s all for now. Thanks for reading. Join me, oooh - a week on Saturday, for 3 weeks around Brazil.Meer informatie
Day 8 - From there, to here
14 september 2024, Kroatië ⋅ ☁️ 17 °C
14:00
The cleaners are arriving at 10:00. We’ve negotiated with Maria that we can hang out in the villa until 12:00, when our cab will arrive to take us back to Croatia, and towards Dubrovnik Airport. We’re up and busy a little after 08:00, and all pretty much packed up by 10:00.
I’m taking most of a bottle of tequila home with us - the one that was gifted to us by the villa owner’s son as an apology for the flooding issues. Now, I don’t do well with tequila. A horrific incident when I was 15 involving a horrendously cheap and nasty white tequila, which means that even the smell of it turns my stomach. Back in 2018, I tested whether this was still the case, while Vicks and I were in Antigua, and discovered that yes - yes, it is very much still the case. This bottle though is an aged Reposado tequila. I tried some a couple of days ago, and - I actually quite like it. It’s smoky, and has spicy notes. I’m still not sure I’d wanna smash down shots of it, but as a sipped drink, it’s closer to a decent whisky than the shitshow of a white tequila that’s haunted me for the past 30 years.
We congregate downstairs at 10:00 to let the cleaners crack on with their work. There’s still a fair amount of booze that we’ve not finished. Some tuck into a glass of rosé, others have a beer. I dive into a spiced rum and OJ, and sit by the pool, contentedly reading my book.
The cab arrives just before 12:00, and is, in fact, a small coach. No bad thing, as we were pretty squashed in during the journey down. It transpires that we’re going to do some kind of a swap at the border. Croatian drivers aren’t allowed to drive into Montenegro to pick up passengers to take them back to Croatia. Quite why the Montenegrin driver can’t take us all the way to Cavtat, I’m not sure. The drive around the bay is spectacular. It’s just such a stunning vista. It’s Saturday, and traffic is quite clunky, particularly through the town of Herceg Novi, near the border. About 20 minutes from the border crossing we used on the way out of Croatia, our driver turns off the main road, and starts heading up the side of a mountain. We all look a little non-plussed. Turns out there are several different border crossings in this part of the world, and he’s brought us to one that he expects to be quieter and quicker. Once we’ve left Montenegro, and are in no-mans land before entering Croatia, and the European Union, we swap vehicles. This all feels quite shady, though it’s anything but. As we approach the Croatian / EU border, our driver explains a little more about this border crossing, and that it’s a hotspot for typically Albanians to smuggle drugs into the EU. It’s quite small, and doesn’t have a sniffer dog team. He goes not to tell us that it’s possible (!) to transport 10 kilos of coke through this border without any issues. Bit worrying that he’s so confident about this. There’s a short queue to cross the border, and the car in front of us has Albanian licence tags. After a fairly lengthy dialogue with the border guard, the car is turned back. Happily, our transit is a more straightforward affair, and we’re quickly on our way to Cavtat…
21:00
Cavtat’s beautiful. A small, harbour town on the coast of the Adriatic. We stop for a well deserved lunch. We decided not to cook anything this morning at the villa, and so there’s some significant hunger amongst our group. I have a spectacular octopus carpaccio, followed by Saltimbocca - a thin veal steak topped with sage and prosciutto. Both are very tasty. Shenda has some of the best calamari I can remember having in a VERY long time…
After lunch, the girls declare shopping, and the gents repair to a nearby bar. The sun is intermittently shining and warm, but is regularly shrouded in cloud, which leaves us feeling a touch chilly. There’s a stiffish breeze as well…
There’s a spectacular looking super yacht in the harbour. c. 50m long, and sleeping 12 in 6 en-suite bedrooms, we briefly consider liberating it for a week’s cruise around the Med. The weekly hire for this vessel transpires to be €290,000, which is just a touch out of our price range.
At 18:00, we jump in our cab to the airport. Dubrovnik Airport is pretty small, and not brilliantly equipped. We’re dejected to find our flight is delayed by around 45 minutes. It’s been a long day already, and we all just want to be at home. Shenda, Simon, Vicki and I put down anchors at a table in a small café in the departure lounge. They serve a decent white wine in a small bottle, several of which I plough through. We’re keeping our eye on the inbound flight. No way are we going through passport control and into the non-Schengen departure lounge until it’s landed…
23:55
We land around 40 minutes late - not the worst outcome… We’re very quickly off the plane, and through passport control. Not a lot of folks in the airport this late in the day. We say goodbye to Rach and Whisk, who have hand luggage and are straight into a cab to take them back to Charlwood. Our bags turn up pretty quickly, and we bid adieu to Si, Shenda, Eddie and Nicci. It’s been a great group to travel with, and I can’t imagine it’ll be that long until we’re planning our next trip together.
It’s pretty bloody fresh outside. I think the temperature’s down at about 10C. As soon as we’re into our cab, Vicki’s out like a light, bless her…Meer informatie
Day 7 - A high degree of soggy
13 september 2024, Montenegro ⋅ ☁️ 14 °C
18:00
Team Dobrota are a little subdued this morning. Well, 7 of us. Vicki is respondent after ‘yet’ another 10 hours of sleep. The sky is heavy with cloud, but we’re apparently due some sunshine late morning. 7 of us (all but Simon) head out for a walk. The breeze is fairly stiff, but the cloud is starting to clear. We make it most of the way down to Kotor, stopping briefly at Babilon to book a table for dinner tonight, and pitch up at a plush looking beach club called Virtu. Beers/ciders for the majority, with soft drinks for those that are particularly suffering. The sun emerges, and we’re at peace with the world. A small cat appears, who I name ‘Bob.’ Vicks and I head back towards the apartment to grab some lunch, whilst the others carry on into Kotor. After some food and wine, I’m ready for a nap. I reward myself with a super deluxe snooze.
23:45
I’m a little groggy when I wake up, but shake the fuzziness away with a Whiskas strength Negroni. We’ve booked a table at Babilon for 20:00, but are a little concerned that the sky has significantly darkened, so head off a touch early. Happily, Goran has our table ready and waiting. A couple of minutes after 20:00, the floodgates open. The rain is as heavy as Monday, when we were flooded. Our table’s pretty well covered, but there’s still some notable water mist and splashing.
We have a sensational dinner. Vicki has a repeat of her order of Tuesday, and I have a wonderful salmon carpaccio, followed by a Tagliata - thinly sliced pieces of sirloin steak, served over a rocket and Parmesan salad. Delish. The rains continue while we eat. There’s a brief hiatus at 21:30. Vicki seizes this opportunity to head back to the villa. The remainder of us regret not taking our chance, when the rain comes back with a vengeance. Sated, we settle our bill, and head off. Shenda has an umbrella, so is broadly ok. I do not, so am not. It’s about a 10 minute walk back to the villa, and the rains heavy around half of that distance. Suddenly, the rain stops, and we rejoice.
Back at the villa, we’re delighted to find that there’s no flooding. Clearly the gutter jiggery-pokery has done the job. We’ve a small mountain of booze to get through before we leave tomorrow afternoon. I decide wine is my target for the evening, so have the last glass of white, followed by a couple of glasses of red. The rum can wait for the morning…Meer informatie
Day 6 - Reset, recharge, rebound
12 september 2024, Montenegro ⋅ 🌫 18 °C
12:00
I’m not sleeping well. No idea why not, but I’m not. I’m averaging maybe 5-6 hours a night, which I once would have thought super-deluxe, but which now is just not quite enough. The team are off to Perast today, but I may stay behind and try and catch up on some sleep. There’s a definitely some weather brewing, but the morning is actually quite bright and sunny. Vicki snoozes till 10:00 - no such sleep challenges for her… I grab some breakfast, before deciding to head back to bed for some snooze, and will see where the day takes me.
17:00
Holy shit - that was some nap. Everyone else heads off in a cab to Perast around 13:00, and I fall asleep moments later. I wake a few times, but essentially sleep for 4 hours. Much needed, much welcomed. I’m pretty groggy when I wake up, but it’s the kind of grog that comes from having had a deeply restful sleep, so I’m ok with it. I find everyone cowering under the covered table near the pool, and quickly deduce that the rains are here. Not wickedly heavy like our Monday experience, but sufficiently weighty to require shelter. Perast sounds/looks lovely from the photos they show me. I may pop up there tomorrow for a look around, if the weather gods play ball. I decide a rum and OJ is in order…
23:45
Around 19:00, the lightning starts to build, mainly over the mountains to the North of us. Given the likelihood of a rainstorm breaking out at any time, we head all of 50m up the road to a small Konoba for a bite to eat. They’re sufficiently worried about the storm that they seat us inside. I have a delicious risotto made with local sausages and some butternut squash. Simon has had an incident. He slipped over on the stairs in the villa, and has cut/badly bruised his left leg. He’s a bit subdued, and doesn’t even finish his red wine. This is unheard of, and we’re all a little worried about him. He heads back to the villa to go to bed, while the remainder head to our local café for a nightcap. Nicci and I complete the full range of local brandies, and we discover something rather lovely called Amaro Montenegro, which confusingly is not from Montenegro, but rather celebrates that marriage of a Montenegrin princess to the future king of Italy. The lightning is still present, and slowly building. As most make their way to bed, I spend 40 minutes on our sun terrace watching the light show in the clouds above me. I’m almost willing the rain and thunder to arrive. The lightning is spectacular, but I’m disappointed that it doesn’t appear to be progressing beyond that, so at 23:30, I call it a night.Meer informatie
Day 5 - Happy Hump Day
11 september 2024, Montenegro ⋅ 🌙 17 °C
15:00
There are several reports of poor sleeping. Rachel’s been up since 4, Nicci feels more than a little jaded, and Eddie’s back is playing up. My own efforts are pretty poor as well - my Garmin watch estimating I’ve had around 5 paltry hours. Vicki, however, banks another 10 hour effort, sleep thief that she is.
The promised sunshine has arrived, and the wind has died almost completely. Those who sunbathe, have little else planned for the day. Vicki and I grab some breakfast, and lounge in the shade by the pool. The villa owner drops us round some wine and some custard cakes as a further apology for the flooding incidents earlier in the week. Not long after midday, I head for a much deserved nap.
23:30
I struggle to wake from my nap. Blearily, I pad downstairs, and decide a quick dip in the pool should help me shake the cobwebs away. Crikey - and then some. The pool is cold. It does the job though. I settle down to read my book with a rum and Coke, and consider that this is a really rather lovely way to pass the time…
There’s a monster cruise ship in the bay today. Checking the cruise ship schedule, this one has over 3,000 passengers, and weights in at 120,000 tons. Today’s schedule has two ships in total, and they’ll have spewed something like 5,000 passengers into Kotor, a small town of maybe 15,000. It’s easy to see why the townsfolk are less than adoring of the cruise ships that so frequently stop by. We’re planning to head into Kotor later for a wander around and some food, but both ships are due to have departed by then.
The afternoon passes in the loveliest of fashions - with very little done, and a truckload of relax. We jump in a cab at 18:30 to head to Kotor. There are no issues with keys today. The cars drop their respective passengers in different parts of town, and we spend a faintly ludicrous 20 minutes trying to locate each other. Kotor Old Town is beautiful - very pretty, narrow cobbled streets, street side cafés abound, a variety of live musicians performing.
We pitch up at a restaurant I’ve found that has great reviews, a little stroll outside of the old city walls, around the harbour. I have a grilled octopus dish that is banging. Perfectly charred, but ultra tender. Vicki’s braised beef dish is a cracker as well. We take a stroll back through the old town to our meeting point for the cab back to the villa, grabbing ice creams along the way. The city is still teeming with activity - bars spilling out onto the streets. We head to our local café by our villa for a nightcap. Nicci and I are making great progress trying the full range of local firewaters. Tonight is a pear brandy, which is probably my favourite of the lot thus far. A day of doing very little has clearly taken its toll though, and we’re all headed to bed by 23:00...Meer informatie
Day 4 - Sore heads, and lost keys
10 september 2024, Montenegro ⋅ ☁️ 17 °C
13:00
There are some sore heads at Camp Fun today. Eddie describes his condition as ‘grizzly’ and Nicci somewhat regrets the last bit of Slivja Rakija we shared before bedtime. We’re delighted, however, that there appears to have been no significant leaking overnight, despite some pretty heavy rain, and a spectacular thunderstorm around 02:00. For my part, I sleep pretty poorly. Very wakey, and according to my Garmin watch, not much deep sleep at all. I suspect today will be a low powered day.
Vicki is still catching up on sleeps, and banks another 10 hours. She’s a marvel that woman. We have a late breakfast of eggs on toast around 11:00, and I repair to bed with my eyes on a nap.
19:30
My low powered prediction has been proven right. We’ve had occasional rain showers, and played some games in the covered terrace area near the pool. Vicki is victorious in the Shut the Door competition, whilst Shenda and I take the prize for the Who’s In The Bag event. The villa owner and her handyman have been round while I was snoozing, and hopefully dealt with the guttering issues for the next round of heavy rains. The wind is getting up, and we’re a little concerned that there are stills storms brewing.
Eddie and Whiskas have been out on some hired bikes today, with little success. There’s a bike path that leads down to Kotor, but which suddenly disappears as you arrive into town. They use the road, and are admonished by a local traffic cop. Apparently roads are for cars. They can’t use the pavement, as it’s jammed with pedestrians. There appears to be no other option. More than a little non-plussed, they return to the villa.
There are staggering views of the sunset, which lights the sky up in a complex array of colours and textures. It’s jaw-droppingly beautiful.
23:30
It’s still pretty breezy when we head out for dinner. There’s a hiatus in proceedings when we realise we can’t find the door keys. There’s a little alcove by the front door where we’ve been leaving them, and they’re not there. Rach and Whiskas have gone out for a pre-dinner aperitif, but when we check, they’ve not seen them. We search fairly frantically for 15 minutes, but no joy. We suspect that the villa owner or handyman might have wandered off with them. Fortunately, we can lock the front door from the inside, and have a separate set of keys for the backdoor, so can head out leaving the villa in a reasonable state of security. I ping Maria to ask if she can check with the villa owner.
Our destination for dinner is Babilon, a Konoba about ten minutes walk up the coast. About halfway there, Simon admits that he may have had the keys during the afternoon, for what - we’re not really sure. He and Vicki scramble back to the villa, declare success, and I apologise to Maria for unnecessarily disturbing her / accusing the villa owner. She’s very good natured about it. Simon is appropriately sheepish.
Dinner is a triumph. We all agree it’s our favourite place to eat so far. Very friendly folks running it, and great value. The food is very good. The majority opt for steak, and the waiter dude brings out two huge platters with a combination of rib-eye and bone-in sirloin. Vicki, Shenda and I have variations on risotto - black cuttlefish for me, and prawn with Saffron for V+S. Very tasty, well seasoned, clearly using a very good fish stock.
It’s after 22:00 when leave the restaurant, having had a rip-roaring time. The sore heads and jadedness of last night have caught up with most, and early nights are declared. Tomorrow’s due to be a hot and sunny day, and no-one wants to miss any of it…Meer informatie
Day 3 - Wetter than an otter's pocket
9 september 2024, Montenegro ⋅ 🌧 19 °C
19:00
We’ve been expecting the rains. Waking up on Monday morning, we see grimacing skies, and chop on the water. They’re not here yet, but they’re surely in the post. It’s still warm, but a stiffening breeze promises malevolence.
I’m up by 08:00, but leave Vicki to sleep a while. I briefly look in on her at 09:30, but she declares insufficient, so I leave her for another half hour. We’ve determined that the inclement weather necessitates an excursion, and we’re going to head down to Kotor for a wander around. We book cabs for 11:30, Vicki emerges, and we’re outside the villa by 11:25 waiting for our cabs. I say cabs, but really, it’s the brother of Maria who runs the management company that looks after our villa, and one of his mates. Ivan (brother) turns up on time, but his mate is 25 minutes late. Apparently there’s traffic trouble down in Kotor. It’s a town of perhaps 12,000, so I struggle to understand just how bad the traffic can be.
As we drive down to the town centre, I start to understand. It’s a perfect storm of terrible road planning, insane drivers, and perhaps 3,000 passengers flooding off a couple of cruise ships. We attempt to turn off the main road, but a cruiser is crossing the road, despite the crossing light being red. We nearly run her down.
As we walk into the old city of Kotor, the sky is darkening. We’re all ready for a beer, so head for a lovely little square just inside the city walls. Within moments, the rains commence. Fleeting at first, they build into some of the heaviest rain I can ever remember experiencing. I ping Felix a message to let him know that the rains around Khao Yai might just have been relegated to second place. The noise as the water pounds on the slick, stone paving is immense. The bar we’re in has an awning, but it is woefully inadequate for these conditions. Despite sitting underneath this covering, Vicki has her umbrella up. ‘A’ drink turns into several, as we’re in no rush to head out into the deluge. We decide to grab some food while we’re here. The rain keeps getting heavier, and heavier. I love the rain, but this is just something else.
Finally, FINALLY - after about two hours, it starts to abate. We grab the opportunity to settle up our bill, and make for the nearest supermarket to stock up on some supplies. It’s only a 5 minute walk away, but we’re all beyond soggy by the time we arrive. Because I’m such a goddamn hero, I’ve lent Whiskas my waterproof coat, making do with a small umbrella instead. Honestly, I’m so soaked through before we leave the bar, that a waterproof coat would have done no more than trap the moisture in.
We manage to grab most of what we need at the supermarket, before Ivan and his dad give us a ride back to the villa. Opening the door, it’s quickly evident that all is not well. There are puddles of water all over the floor. We quickly identify the the water is coming from the first floor, and discover water pouring in from the small baloney at the front of the 1st floor living room. It’s properly flooded. A clean up exercise commences, and I get in touch with Maria to request assistance. The next door villa is owned by a guy called Vuco. He’s had some similar issues, and has identified a blocked gutter at the rear of his property as the culprit. This perhaps explains the water in our kitchen, but our problem is definitely due to something at the front of the villa. The villa owner pitches up to help with clean up, and kindly leaves us a bottle of vodka as an apology.
The next heavy shower is only minutes later, and we experience the same flooding. Our diagnostics team has identified a gutter at the front of our vila that isn’t draining properly, and which is creating a waterfall that falls directly onto the balcony. The balcony has a raised lip about 2 inches high, and the water can’t drain away from it. As it fills, the water reaches the level of the door, and the door is not watertight. Knowing how and why we’re being flooded is heartening, but hardly the outcome we’re after. The owner’s son rocks up, and drills some additional holes into the balcony to allow for better drainage. Honestly, I’d probably have started with the gutter which is the genesis of the problem, but what do I know?
Look, the villa managers and owners can’t control the weather, obviously. But this can’t possibly be the first time this has happened. The rain is incredibly heavy, but it’s not some kind of days long, generational storm. We’re still having to deal with ingress of water 4 hours later, and it leaves us feeling more than a little irked. The hole drilling has helped, but when the rain gets really heavy, there’s still some water splashing against the door from the deluge coming down from the gutter, and some of it makes its way into the living room. It’s manageable for tonight, but needs more attention tomorrow.
23:45
Our evening is more stressful than is entirely ideal. Intermittent heavy showers have continued to leave us soggy. I guess we’re kinda inured to it. We’re certainly well versed in wringing out the various towels and rugs that we’re using as flood barriers. We make the best of it. The owner’s son turned up with a bottle of a decent Reposado Tequila for us - again, by way of apology. Honestly though, we’re pretty miffed that we’ve paid a whack of cash for our villa, and it’s flooding like this. We’ll need to get on to the managers tomorrow to try and sort out the guttering, as there’s heavy rain forecast on several of the next few days…Meer informatie
Day 2 - All kinds of sunny.
8 september 2024, Montenegro ⋅ ☁️ 21 °C
17:50
Waking time for our collective is wildly varied. Eddie and Nicci are up and out for a walk by 07:00, whilst Vicki sleeps till past midday. I would say the average is around 08:00, and most of us are well slept/rested. Despite several attempts, the coffee pod machine is simply not playing ball, so Eddie, Whiskas and I pop to our new favourite local café for a coffee, followed by an improving swim in the bay. The water’s beautiful - cold enough to be refreshing, but warm enough not to warrant tears. The sun rises over the mountain behind the villa, and slowly chases the shade away from our private beach type area by the bay. It’s heating up pretty quickly, but I find a wonderfully shady solace behind the pool, and curl up to read my book for an hour.
Around 11:30, Rachel has the first brilliant idea of the day, and moments later, we’re slipping into the charming depths of a beautifully made Aperol Spritz. It’s a great option with which to open our Sunday account. Bravely, I stick to my promise to check on Vicki at 12:00. She’s just woken up, and decided it’s time for today. She’s clocked in at a little over 12 hours. Very impressive.
We decide some lunch is in order, and head down the road to a little fish restaurant. The wine is much more reasonable than last night, the food simple and good. It’s pushing 14:30, and I can feel a nap on the cards. I head back to the villa with the girls, and hit the hay. It takes me a while to get off to sleep, but am rewarded with fully 90 minutes of doze. Deluxe.
23:45
We congregate on the sun terrace around 18:30, for sundowners. The sun sets lazily across the bay from us, over the mountains in the distance. It’s still hot, but gradually cooling. I learn of an incident involving Simon’s drone while I was sleeping. It’s been on the fritz recently. He’s an electrician by training, and has been working to fix it. An issue with the sensors apparently. His efforts have not been going entirely to plan. On one of his test flights earlier, it took on a mind of its own, gave the tree by the bay a bit of a haircut, and then tried to decapitate Rachel. With the warm glow of hindsight, it all sounds super funny, but I suspect was anything but at the time. There was such alarm and shrieking that our neighbours popped their head around to our pontoon to check everyone was still alive…
For dinner, we walk South along the coast towards Kotor. Dobrota, whilst recognised as a town, is really a stretch of coastline, about 4km long. Forza is perhaps 1km to the South of us, on the waterfront, and attached to a plush looking hotel. They have a wood-fired BBQ on the waterside terrace, and fresh fish on the menu - a winning combo. Six of us have whole seabass, cooked over the fire, and it’s sensational. Cooked to a soft, juicy texture, with crispy skin, and really well seasoned. It turns out we can’t quite manage on two bottles of wine, but do keep ourselves from ordering a fourth. The food is a little more expensive than last night, but our bill feels like much better value. We all agree that we’ve been very well fed.
We head back to our local café for a nightcap. Eddie, Whiskas and I go for a Pelinkovac - a local Amaro style liqueur that’s bitter and smoky. Nicci bravely tries a Zlatna Rakija, which transpires to the apricot variant of homemade firewater. It smells deeply of apricot, but tastes of anything but. It’s marginally nicer than the plum version we tried last night. The hour is advancing, and some of us have had as few as 12 hours sleep. It’s time for bed…Meer informatie
Day 1 - I've been here before...
7 september 2024, Montenegro ⋅ 🌙 20 °C
06:44
I am once again, would you believe, in Brewdog at Gatwick North terminal. Comfortably the earliest I’ve had to be here this year. Vicki and I are off to Kotor, in Montenegro, along with 6 of our dearest friends. There’s a small cock-up when the cab doesn’t arrive. Mindful that I’ve been the taxi mistake maker in the past, I check and recheck my confirmation email, before calling the cab company. Nope - it’s their snafu. Somewhere along the way, they’ve got a couple of bookings confused, and they’re expecting to pick us up on Monday, to fly to New York. Really not what you want to hear for a 05:00 cab after a 04:15 alarm… Thankfully, they have a driver on standby, who gets over to us in 10 minutes, and we’re still at Gatwick in decent time.
Vicki, bless her, has had a crazy week at work. Couple of weeks in fact. When I went to bed last night, I had an inkling she might not get finished until v late, and my inkling is confirmed. She’s not managed to get to bed - but is in awesome spirits, ready to go etc etc. She does, however, doze for the entirety of the cab ride to Gatwick. I suspect today will be a day of many en-route naps.
In the check-in area, we rejoice to see a gin still that’s been christened ‘Judith.’ We’re quickly through bag drop and security. In a first of its kind, neither of us is pulled over for additional security checks.
And so it is, that I find myself in the North Terminal Brewdog, for maybe the 6th time this year. They don’t have a loyalty scheme, but if they did…
Our group is arriving in stages, and I suspect we’ll meet at the departure gate. The nucleus of this group is a gang we’ve travelled with a bunch of times before, but not for quite a few years. I think 2015 or 2016 would have been the last time. We exist very easily together, so am expecting a chilled out week of not very much. We’re staying in a waterfront villa on Kotor Bay, in a little village called Dobrota, about 5km North of Kotor Old Town. I’m unsure, at this point, how active we’ll be - there are tons of opportunities for adventuring, but most require car-hire. The weather may well have a role to play in helping us decide. The forecast is, let’s not be coy, shit. Heavy rain, thunderstorms. We’re all hopeful that the storms will be intermittent and fleeting. Fingers crossed, touch wood etc etc.
Last time I flew out of North Terminal was peak, PEAK Summer holiday season. The airport’s a very much more relaxed affair this morning, most schools having already started again for the Winter term. There are a few families getting away, but the vast majority are groups of adults headed off on their travels. There’s a slightly subdued atmosphere.
19:30
The flight is blissfully brief. We’re around an hour late taking off, due to some mist and fog at Gatwick generally slowing everything down, and land into Dubrovnik about 45 minutes behind schedule. Quickly enough, we’re squashed into our 8 seater taxi for the journey South to Dobrota. There’s an airport at Tivat, about 45 minutes away from our villa, but flights there were much more limited, and far more expensive, so we’ve flown into Croatia, and will drive down into Montenegro. It’s around 90 minutes to drive, but the variable is how long the border crossing will take. Whilst Montenegro uses the Euro for its currency, it’s not (yet) part of the European Union, so there’s a hard border between the two. I suspect leaving the EU to get into Montenegro is going to be a lot quicker/easier than getting back into the EU when we head home.
The drive down is really something. The surrounding scenery is just beautiful. We’re surrounded by mountains, and spend most of the journey hugging the shores of lakes and fjords. I wasn’t prepared for how close the mountains are to where we’re staying. We spend the last 50 minutes driving round the coastline of the Bay of Kotor, which looks like a lake, but is actually an inland bay, joined to the sea about 15km to the North West of us. We’re reminded of the Italian lakes, except prettier, more rustic.
There’s some small confusion as we try to figure out which villa is actually ours, but ultimately manage to locate the right property. It’s a beautiful building. A maze of staircases, rooms, and terraces. It’s bewitchingly charming. The views across the bay are simply staggering. We’re all a bit warm and peckish, so head out to a local restaurant for refreshment. The local beer is Niksicko, and is a pleasant little drop. Most critically, it’s cold. Super cold. We have a sharing platter of ham and cheeses, and all is well with the world.
23:30
For ease, we head back to the same place for dinner. We’ll do some more exploring tomorrow. Our dinner is lovely. Simple, grilled dishes in the main - and I have a cuttlefish risotto, a dish I was introduced to in Croatia, and which appears to be a specialty of this section of the Adriatic coast. Our bill is a slightly scary €450 for 8 of us. This feels more than a little steep. Interrogating the bill, it transpires that broadly half of that has gone on 4 bottles of wine - not an insane amount for us to have got through, but a whacking chunk of change. We resolve to be a bit more mindful of wine options when we’re out and about.
Whiskas proposes a digestif/nightcap, and this feels like a brilliant idea. We head to a little café only steps from our villa, and try Slivja. This is part of the Slivovitz family, so common across Eastern Europe, and particularly the Balkans. It’s a brandy made from damsons or plums. I find myself quite liking it, though it’s not to everyone’s tastes. The café has an entire section of their menu for ‘homemade’ spirits. Nicci insists that we try them all over the course of the week, and that’s the second brilliant idea in the past 30 minutes.
Vicks and I are both flagging. She’s managed about 90 minutes of sleep through the day, but is ready for an extended doze.Meer informatie
Day 9 - Westward, HO!
30 juli 2024, Slovenië ⋅ 🌙 19 °C
22:30
I have a beautifully long and deep sleep. I’ve not slept badly here, but neither has my sleep been brilliant. The cottage is quite warm at night, and I’ve only had my little hand fan to cool me down as I slumber. Reports from back home that it’s going to be 32C when I get home tomorrow, so no abatement.
Today is moving day. I get myself packed up, which takes all of 10 minutes. I play with the dogs in the garden for a while, then sink into one of the ultra comfy sun loungers, and read my book. Simone and Franz have very kindly offered to drive me up to my next stop, a small village close to Ljubljana Airport. They haven’t mentioned payment, but I can’t believe they’d offer entirely for free. It’s a good 2 hours each way. Any discussions have been between Simone and Kirsten, and Kirsten is not necessarily the best when it comes to detail.
Lunch is a simple plate of bread, cheese and salami, accompanied by a glass of a banging gazpacho, that Max made yesterday. My ride isn’t until 15:00, so I have a couple of hours to laze.
As the appointed hour approaches, I say goodbye to Kirsten and Max. It’s been amazing to hang out with them both, up here in the Slovenian winelands. Kirsten I just never feel like I see enough of, and Max I’ve got to know a whole lot better than I did before this trip.
We’re on the road in Franz’s big Ford pickup. Simone and Franz’s English is stilting (better than my Slovenian etc etc), so our conversation is a little challenging. Honestly - I’d be just as happy to watch the stunning scenery go by. We take a slightly different route up towards Ljubljana, which takes us through some beautiful forests and valleys. Truly breathtaking. The airport is about 30 clicks North of Ljubljana, and my room for the night is in a tiny village called Cerklje.
We make good time, and arrive into Cerklje. The sun’s still hot, but I head out for a walk in this stunning countryside. There are mountains not far to the North of us, empty fields as far as the eye can see, and a small, mountain river running straight through the village. This is apparently a popular base for skiers in Winter, and I can see why. My walk leaves me peckish. Next door to my accommodation is an Italian restaurant, that apparently does good pizzas. I’m taken by their offering of a ‘Ljubljana Steak’ though - pork fillet, battered out, then stuffed with local ham and cheese, breadcrumbed and fried. Perhaps not the healthiest thing I’ve eaten on this trip, but definitely one of the tastiest. I’m quite surprised to realise that this is the first meal out I’ve eaten during the trip. I’ve WAY underspent on what I had budgeted. Kirsten and I are both keen cooks, and actually coexist in the kitchen pretty well. As a result, we’ve shared the culinary workload quite happily, and - as it transpires, economically.
Back at my apartment, I catch up on some Olympic coverage. It’s one of the incredibly few times I get to see widespread coverage of world class hockey, and the advent of digital transmission means I can typically watch as much of it as I want. Earlier today, the GB team were involved in a nail-biter against the no 1 ranked Netherlands side. 2-0 down with 10 mins to go, the GB team scrape a draw, with a last minute short corner strike. Watching the whole game, it’s actually a fair result. GB had more of the possession and chances, but they’re gonna need a better goal conversion rate if they’re to go deep into the competition. The other game I watch is Belgium vs Australia. The Belgian team is ranked 3 in the world, and they dismantle Australia, and that’s something I can always enjoy…
Time’s cracking on. I’ve an early (ish) start tomorrow, to head home to see my amazing wife, and my beautiful boys. Think I surprised Vicki a little earlier, as she seemed to think I was heading back on Thursday. Momentarily, I panicked, and had to check it wasn’t ME that had got the dates mixed up…Meer informatie
Day 8 - please refer to day 5.
29 juli 2024, Slovenië ⋅ 🌙 19 °C
Day 7 - Max arrives. As do the rains.
28 juli 2024, Slovenië ⋅ ☁️ 20 °C
23:30
We both sleep well, and wake in good time. Max is arriving today, and we spend a fairly frantic hour or so tidying and cleaning up around the cottage. Not that it’s a tip or anything, but, you know - parents. We’re unclear from which station Max is departing Bled, and to which station she will arrive. We’re unsure whether she’ll change stations, or whether it’s a direct train. We have worked through this line of questioning via WhatsApp, and are still clueless. Max sends us an update. “On the train. Destination vague.”
Further updates happen. Max has been advised to head for Mursk Sobota, about 30km to the North of us. It transpires her train passes through Ormoz and Ljutomer on its way to Mursk Sobota though, so we arrange to pick up her at Ivankopji at 12:15. The train’s a touch late getting in, but she emerges, triumphantly, onto the platform. As a reward, we take her to meet our new friends at Puklavec Malek. We have a glass of wine each, sitting under the vines, looking over the stunning Jeruzalem valley. I take Max inside for a tasting. She’s bowled over by a couple of the reds they offer. We start writing down an order for some bottles, which rapidly turns into 3 cases. Max and Kirsten are heading from here up to Poland, where apparently buying anything except syrupy, sweet wine is a trial.
Back at the cottage, there are several afternoon naps. The heat is pretty stifling today - 34C and steamy. When we wake, the sky has clouded over. Petr, at Puklavec, warned us that storms were due in tonight. As I sit under the shade of the vines, the breeze noticeably stiffens. I hear the first hint of rumbling thunder a couple of valleys over from us, and the sky darkens. When the rains come, they are heavy, fat rains. Beautiful, big raindrops. There are relatively few lightning strikes, but the thunder continues for hours. The vines serve as a decent umbrella when the rain is light, but this heavy rain is flooding through the leaves. We shelter inside, and spend a delightful evening nattering away, drinking some of the wine Max bought earlier. Kirsten knocks up a quick salad from the veg garden, and I cooked a steak, and some local bratwurst type sausages. So simple, but so tasty. The rain continues, unabated. Around 22:30, Max declares she’s ready for bed. Kirsten and I do not disagree…Meer informatie
Day 6 - We must find wine.
27 juli 2024, Slovenië ⋅ ☀️ 27 °C
16:00
Max arrives tomorrow, and the need to replenish red wine stocks has hit critical levels. We’ve what counts for a busy day planned. I’ve been sleeping pretty well the past few days. My room is warm, but my small electric hand fan has been doing wonderful things to keep me just the right side of cool enough. We’re both awake with an up and at ‘em attitude in decent time, and heading off to the beautiful lake at Kamenšnica Babinci just before 11:00. The forecast is hot, unbroken sunshine all day.
The small beach by the lake is fairly quiet - a combination of cyclists, fisherpeople, and swimmers. The quiet is very much broken by Juancho, who’s favourite water-based activity is swimming in circles, and barking incessantly. Juancho is very much a traditional, small yapper type dog. Mila is much more withdrawn, and likes less the sound of her own bark. They both have a great time splashing around, chasing their ball. About 45 minutes after our arrival, and family turns up with about 7 young kids. They plonk themselves down next to us. The kids are, well - let’s face it, noisy. They (the kids) also start casting nervous glances at the dogs, who are in full-on play mode, and yapping away. We elect to pack up and move on.
I’ve been in the sun for nearly an hour, so decide to take the car to do some grocery shopping, while Kirsten has some more play time with the dogs. It later transpires she is a little sunburnt, so strong are the sun’s rays today. We meander back through Ljutomer, before turning off onto a stunning country back road that takes us into the heart of wine country. We stop at a winery just outside Jeruzalem. We’re largely on the hunt for red wines for Max’s arrival. I taste 4, and buy one of each. They’re all great, but the standout is a grape with which I’m barely familiar - Vranec. Medium bodied, bright acidity, black fruit flavours. Yum. We reward ourselves with a glass each of white wine - a brilliant Pinot Gris / Sauvignon blend for Kirsten, and a Traminec varietal for me. The views across the valley are sensational, and wine’s pretty awesome as well.
Our next stop is about 3 minutes walk up the hill so a taverna with a wine shop attached to it. We get slightly distracted by the view, and end up having a glass of their flagship white wine, and blend of Chardonnay, Rhine Riesling and Pinot Gris. We’re both a touch peckish, so share a plate of locally made paté and bread. The dogs are both a bit jaded, so decide to try one more winery on our way back to the cottage. Our route takes us further and further towards the middle of nowhere - it’s s stunning drive through forests, valleys, vineyards. Sadly, on arrival it appears the winery is no more. I suspect a fair few of the smaller producers suffered at the hands of COVID. If they are even still growing grapes, I find myself wondering if their crop is given over to co-operative winemaking, rather than the personal financial burden of making their own wines.
We’re back at the cottage a little after 15:30. It’s properly hot, so I treat myself to a dip in the hot-tub. I decide against the jacuzzi bubbles, and there’s no way I’m heating the water up. It’s initially a bit of a system shock, but the cold quickly becomes a wonderfully refreshing cool. I air dry with a glass of wine and my book, and then consider I’ve earnt a nap.
23:00
I wake at 18:00, after a smashing 90 minute sleep. I’m on dinner duties this evening, so gradually mobilise myself to do some prep work. We’re having local sausages braised in red wine, and served with a warm lentil dish featuring flavours of bacon, roasted pepper and sun-dried tomato. I usually use Puy lentils, but only had green available in the supermarket. There’s a small snafu when it transpires I haven’t turned the oven on, but it my oversight corrected, it heats up quickly enough. As a light starter, we have some Gazpacho that Kirsten made earlier. The tomatoes are from the veg patch at the cottage, and are some of the best I’ve ever eaten. SO ripe, SO juicy, SO full of flavour. They are also, of course, all kinds of weird knobbly shapes and sizes. I don’t know that this actually mades a difference to their flavour, but it reminds me how sad it is to see utterly uniform fruit and veg in the supermarkets back home.
Kirsten declares my sausage and lentil dish a triumph. It’s really tasty - something I’ve cooked a bunch of times before, but very rarely as lentils don’t agree with my beloved wife. After we’ve eaten, we settle into an easy post-prandial patter of conversation. I think one of the reasons Kirsten and my friendship has endured so easily over the years is that we never run out of things to talk about, but are equally happy sitting in silence, without the need to fill the void. It makes for easy-going days. Around 22;00, we’re both starting to flag. I declare I’m not long for this day, and head to bed.Meer informatie
Day 5 - Literally nothing of note.
27 juli 2024, Slovenië ⋅ ☀️ 25 °C
23:30
Nothing of note happened today. There was reading, there was lazing, there was napping, there was eating.
Nothing to see. Move along, move along.
Day 4 - Lake, and a broken Kirsten
25 juli 2024, Slovenië ⋅ ☁️ 19 °C
22:45
I once again wake with a fuzzy wine head. It’s about 08:00. I pad out to the bathroom, and find Kirsten in a state of disrepair. She’s due on a work call in an hour, but looks like this might be a significant uphill struggle. I return to bed, and whilst I don’t sleep, the following couple of hours helps me feel a lot better. I shower while Kirsten finishes up her call. She quickly declares overhung. I ask if she’s fit enough for a trip to the lake as we’d discussed, and she claims yes. We head out around 11:00, after we’ve given the handful of ibuprofen she’s taken time to work.
The drive over to the lake is stunning. We head over a couple of valleys from our guesthouse, and pass countless signs to wineries. Kirsten groans at most of them. We pass through Ljutomer, a similar size to Ormoz, and about 7km North of our cottage. There are a couple of new supermarket chains here - Jager and Tus. Jager particularly interests me, for obvious reasons.
We arrive at the lake, and find fishermen parked up. The combination of dogs and fishing is not a happy one, so we quietly reverse out, and head further round. Our second stop is more successful, and we let the dogs out to run. We pass a very lovely German family, who inexplicably have no teeth. The dogs are loving the extra space. We find a quiet little cove to occupy, and let the dogs swim. Juancho is a confident swimmer, and furiously doggy paddles in circles while yapping away. Mila is a little more cautious. According to Kirsten, she’d never been away from home until a few months ago, so traveling is unfamiliar. She’d also not swum until recently, so she’s understandably a little nervous. She does really well though, building in confidence as she swims out to collect the tennis ball time after time.
Kirsten is beginning to sound more human. We briefly discuss why she’s so broken. We come up with a range of pretty specious suggestions - that we drank Slovenian wine last night, and it doesn’t *agree* with her as much as Spanish wine, that the bee sting on her arm has poisoned her, and made her incapable of ingesting wine efficiently… She’s putting a broadly brave face on it. After an hour of knackering out the dogs, we head back to the car.
We’re still in search of lamb, and stop at what claims to be a butcher in Ljutomer, but which simply does not exist. We stop at Jäger, and find no lamb. We do pick up some groceries we need, and head back to the cottage. The sky is brooding, and we suspect rain. Kirsten showers, and has a nap. I have a light lunch of leftover bulgar wheat salad and a couple of Radlers. Sitting under the vine covering, I can hear the patter of gentle rain, and elect to shelter indoors, on my bed, in the hope that nap may come. It does - only for an hour, but it’s a super luxurious way to pass the time.
When I wake, Kirsten is finishing up her last work call of the day. I comment that she seems to be doing a lot more work on this part time contract than she’s actually contracted for, and she doesn’t disagree. I think she has an exit plan on the horizon. Honestly, it just seems to be getting in the way of having a good time. The clouds have passed, and the evening sunshine is glorious. I recline in one of the garden sun loungers and read my book. Kirsten suggests a glass of wine. I’m surprised - I thought she’d be rabidly anti booze today, but she feels she’s reached a stage where a glass might help. We share a bottle of a fab white blend I bought yesterday. Kirsten’s cooking dinner, so I’m on lazy patrol. The sun poking through the vineyard next door as it sets is a pretty breathtaking moment.
Dinner is fab - some stuffed marrow that our hosts have grown, and a simple tomato and cucumber salad. Kirsten has proposed (and I have agreed to) a bottle of Italian red to accompany our food. Once again, it’s a great slurp - around €10 in Italy, and never found outside of the country.
Around 21:30, Kirsten announces she’s off to bed. I don’t blame her - she’s had a very tough day…Meer informatie
Day 3 - Quite a lot of nothing at all...
24 juli 2024, Slovenië ⋅ 🌙 18 °C
16:00
It takes dedication to do this little. I sleep the sleep of the boozed, and only wake up around 08:30. At 04:30, I padded out of my bedroom to use the bathroom, to find Kirsten sleeping on the daybed in the kitchen, and covered in dogs. I wondered if she might decide against more stairs action.
My head’s a little fuzzy from the wine last night. so I make a strong coffee, and see what the day’s about. We discover a dishwasher, which is excellent news. We have trouble accessing WiFi, which is less cool. I get very spotty cell service up here, so was relying on the WiFi to post these blogs and the like. Kirsten sends a message to Simone to ask if there’s anything we can do to boost the signal. She’s got work calls most days we’re here, so needs to have a half decent connection. Kirsten joins one of these calls at 10:00, and I decide to make myself useful. I tidy up the kitchen, load the dishwasher, and head down to Ormoz to reload on some critical supplies.
I’ve been surprised at the lack of lamb in the supermarkets. Beef, pork and chicken are widely available, but I’ve not seen any lamb yet, despite trying 4 different supermarkets. I’d assumed, incorrectly it would seem, that the Slovenian cuisine would have a lot in common with Greek and Macedonian food, and feature lamb prominently. Captain Google reckons that lamb is a much less frequent treat in this part of the world - likely only eaten a handful of times per year. As a result, my shopping basket fills with other options. I also grab a few Radlers, basically a lager shandy made with a variety of fruit flavoured sodas, but most commonly lemon or grapefruit. Grapefruit doesn’t agree with my anti-anxiety medication, so it’s lemon for me. They’re low in alcohol, massively refreshing in the heat, and for me are a favoured alternative to a straight up local lager.
Suitably shopped, I head back to the Puklavec wine cellar on the outskirts of town, and happily find it open this time. There are perhaps 30 different wines on offer - some made ultra locally, others from as far away as Macedonia; there are whites, reds, sparklers and stickies; there are a bunch at around the €5 mark, and others that get up above €30. There are grapes with which I’m very familiar - Chardonnay, Sauvignon, Merlot, and others of which I’ve never heard - Vranec, Shipon. I chat with the shop dude, who is insistent that I try some of his wines. Who am I to disagree. He gives me a white blend, which is staggeringly good. Wants to be at €25 a bottle, but I grab one anyway. He gives me a Traminec varietal which is closely related to Gewürztraminer, one of my favourite grapes. Sensational. I grab one. He pours me a couple of others, and, well - I’m lucky to get out with only half a case. Max is arriving in a few days, and Kirsten has tasked me with finding an inexpensive red wine that Max will enjoy. I bravely take up the challenge.
Deciding that there’s really not that much to Ormoz beyond grocery and wine stores, I take a little drive into the countryside. It is STUNNING. On one side of the roads are countless fields of sunflowers. As I drive through a small village, there are rocky escarpments, and views of lush, verdant valleys. I spot a bunch more wineries than I’ve even listed for us to visit - many of them so small that they don’t warrant an entry on Google Maps. In a show of ultimate bravery, I drive past a little bar attached to a farm. Back at the cottage, Kirsten is finishing up another call. I grab some bread, cheese, salami and a beer, and join her at the picnic table for a light lunch. It leaves me a feeling a touch tired, so I repair to my room to see if a nap is forthcoming.
23:45
Wow. What a sleep. I manage a full 2 hours, and wake up feeling refreshed. Kirsten’s got some work calls this evening, so I busy myself making dinner - some beef kofta kebabs, a bulgar wheat salad, and a cucumber/tomato yoghurt concoction. My cheffing is accompanied by one of the white wines I bought earlier - a blend of Traminec and Muscat, which is a knockout.
I light the BBQ around 19:00, and spend a blissful 45 minutes lazing in one of the lawn chairs, reading my book. I’m occasionally interrupted by one of the many dogs, but I’m at peace with it. The sun is warm, but not hot.
Dinner is delicious, and accompanied by a range of red wines, some cool music, and even cooler conversation. The dogs finally chill out around 22:00. We’ll take them for a day out tomorrow to burn off some of their excess energy. There’s apparently a swimmable lake around 20km North of us which sounds ideal…
We call it quits around 23:30. Kirsten has to be up for a call at 09:00, and I’m already considering how long I can sleep in for tomorrow morning.Meer informatie
Day 2 - The back of the back of beyond
23 juli 2024, Slovenië ⋅ ☁️ 20 °C
12:00
I sleep less than brilliantly. My room has no cooling features of any kind. It’s in the basement of an old stone building, so isn’t disastrously hot, but I could have done with a fan or some AC to keep me cool. Kirsten’s on some work calls this morning, so I head out around 10:00 for a wander around Ljubljana. It’s a stunningly pretty little city, very quiet, very clean. 100m from our guesthouse is the Republic Square, which celebrates Slovenian independence. It’s all but empty. I head on down towards the river, taking a scenic route - i.e. I set off in what I think is the general direction of the river, and it turns out I’m walking away from it. I dawdle along for maybe 30 minutes, stopping to look at occasional bits of architecture. Finally, I reach the river, and sit down at one of the many waterside cafés that line its banks. I deserve and have a strong black coffee. I’m conscious I haven’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday, so grab a piece of cheese pie. It’s delicious. Lots in common with the Greek Spanakopita I love so much.
Arriving back at our guesthouse, Kirsten is just about finished with her work calls, and I decide it’s probably beer o’clock. The local brew is called Lasko, and is a fairly generic Mediterranean lager. Inoffensive, easy drinking. Max joins us and insists I have another. She’s a good woman.
18:00
Kirsten and I head off from Ljubljana around 12:30, heading East towards the borders with Croatia and Hungary. I’m on map duty, and successfully navigate us out of the city centre without too many difficulties. We join the eastbound highway, and settle into a fast cruise. The roads are fairly empty, and we make good progress. The views of the scenery are stunning. Only a few kilometres out of Ljubljana, we’re surrounded by sweeping hills blanketed in thick forest.
We leave the highway, and join a 2 lane road. We leave the two lane road, and join a single carriageway road. We leave the single carriageway road, onto a single track. We are definitely headed for the middle of nowhere. The map is fairly easy to follow though, which is something. We start to climb a not insignificant hill. Reaching the summit a few minutes later, we realise we’re very nearly at our AirBnB.
It’s idyllic. We’re surrounded on all sides by vines and fruit trees. It’s silent. Not quiet - SILENT. We’re shown around the property and grounds by our hosts, Simone and Franz. They introduce us to their dogs - Mufi and Arya. We introduce Mufi and Arya to Mila and Juancho. Much dogging occurs. Our AirBnB has a wine bar in it. I’m not kidding - a full on bar with a wine fridge, and wine racks. Now, we’re not stupid enough to think that the wine is free, but it’s a lovely touch, and we crack open a bottle of Slovenian Sauvignon Blanc, which is better than we thought it’d be. We briefly consider taking our wine to the hot tub, but Kirsten has another work call to join.
Instead, I head down to our nearest town, Ormoz - which is about 10km away. We need food and wine supplies. Before shopping, I take a bit of a swing through the town. It feels, I don’t know - almost empty. There are a handful of cars on the road, but very few. Quite a lot of businesses look to be closed - whether for the end of the day (it’s a little past 16:00) or more permanently, I’m not sure. I find a wine tasting room of the famous Puklavec family, but alas - it closed at 16:00. I’ll be back in the next couple of days…
My first shopping stop is at the Lidl supermarket on the outskirts of town. They have very little of what I need. More successful is a stop at the Spar supermarket nearby. Spar in this part of Europe is a more mainstream supermarket than the corner shop brand we’re used to seeing in the UK. They have most of what I need - including some cool looking local beers and wines. They don’t have BBQ fuel though, so I make a 3rd stop at a Slovenian supermarket chain called Mercator, who happily fulfil my fuel fantasies.
23:50
We have a lovely dinner, sitting outside under the vines. I knock up a simple, Greek marinade for some chicken thighs, and Kirsten pairs it with a Sicilian pasta dish that shows more than a passing resemblance to Puttanesca. Delish. The BBQ is a small version of the big Landmann I use at home, which makes cooking the bone-in chicken thighs a breeze. They’re crispy where they should be, juicy and unctuous in all the right places, and - crucially - cooked all the way through.
After dinner, Kirsten insists on some red wine, and grabs a bottle that she and Max bought in Italy, on their road-trip through to Slovenia. It’s wonderful. I’m a relative newbie with Italian wine, and struggle to know which are worth a punt, and which not. This one’s a banger. Bright acidity, full bodied and zippy fruit. I’d make a note of the winemaker’s / vineyard’s name, but there’s zero chance of me finding the same wine in the UK. Around 22:30, I suggest bed, but Kirsten’s thinking is slightly more diagonal than mine, and she proposes a final bottle of wine. It’s been ages since we sat up (fairly) late with too much wine, and set the world to rights - so I greedily acquiesce.
I stumble to bed a little before midnight, and Kirsten attempts to climb the narrow staircase to her room. This doesn’t go entirely to plan, and she falls down them. Thankfully uninjured.Meer informatie
Day 1 - I've been here before.
22 juli 2024, Slovenië ⋅ 🌙 22 °C
15:30
I spend a lazy morning getting packed, finishing a couple of errands, and reading a little about Slovenia. A new country for me, I know little about it, other than its part in the former Yugoslavia, and the resulting ethnic conflicts in the 1990s. Home for the next week will be a cottage in one of Slovenia’s wine regions, and my companion will be my school friend Kirsten, who I quickly realise has known me for pretty much bang on 30 years. That’s a sobering thought. We’ve not much planned for the week. The climate looks beautiful - our nearest weather station will be Maribor, which promises temperatures in the high 20s, light breezes, wall-to-wall sunshine. I imagine we’ll do some hiking, quite a lot of wine tasting/drinking, maybe some lake swimming if we find something suitable nearby. We’ll see what cool food we can find to cook. I’ve no idea about Slovenian cuisine, but given it neighbours Italy to the West, and Croatia to the South, I’m expecting good things. Kirsten’s driven her camper van up from Madrid, so we’ve got some transport sorted, should we need it much. From the sounds of it, our cottage is at the top of a hill, downwards from which finds you in one of 4 or 5 vineyards that surround the property.
I leave the house a little before 14:00, and jump on a train for the short ride up to Gatwick. Despite the Monday, early afternoon timing, the train is busy, having been delayed on its way to me. It sounds like I’ve enjoyed the best of the Summer weather while I’ve been in the UK these past 10 days. Today is grey and mizzling - a more popular 2024 combination. I’m not sad to be leaving it behind. I AM sad to be leaving behind my darling Vicki. I’ve loved being at home with her since got back from SE Asia, and I’m uber-excited for our next trip(s) away together in September.
Gatwick North is comfortably the busiest I’ve seen it this year. This is the first ‘full’ week of school summer holidays in the UK, and it shows. Children EVERYWHERE. I’ve paid to use the fast-track security service at the terminal. I’m not checking a bag, so have got a couple of heavy-ish cabin bags. Arriving at the fast track queue, I spot that they’re using one of the new CT scanners, which is great - except that it’s broken. Chatting to one of the security staff, they’ve been using it for a week now, and there have been some, well - let’s say ‘teething problems.’ The issue is quickly resolved by someone who doesn’t look like they work at the airport. I’m a little disgruntled when one of my bags gets pulled for further inspection. I always travel with a medikit, which contains a pair of blunt scissors, whose blades are less than 6cm long (as required by the Civil Aviation Authority). It’s these that have caused a red flag. Now, my bag is packed pretty fucking brilliantly. Everything I need, nothing I don’t. The medikit is right at the bottom of the bag - obviously. I locate it for the guy, whose beard is simply spectacular, and he measures the blade. Sure enough - 5.5cm. I huff, grab my belongings, and repair to one of the little desk things to repack my bag, quietly seething.
Still, I make it from the train to Brewdog in around 45 minutes, which is a none too bad result for this time of year. I’m thinking about buying a debenture seat at Brewdog in the North terminal of Gatwick Airport. I’m sat at the same table seat as I have on several occasions already so far this year. I’m pretty sure the bar staff recognise me. Looking back through my scribblings from earlier in the year, I can see that I’ve been here on several occasions when I was all but the only customer. Today, they’re pretty much at max capacity. There are even (whisper it) some kids in here. Not many, but some…
I’m conscious that at various times in this journal, and particularly at airports, I’ve written stuff that indicates I have some sort of preternatural hatred of kids. I don’t. I love (some of) them. I do, however, find that my enjoyment of travelling can be impaired by their loud, shouty, uncontrolled presence. I guess it’s not the kids I have an issue with, but rather the parents of those kids who choose not to assert any kind of control or discipline over their offspring. Besides - why would you bring them to a craft beer pub, when there’s a perfectly serviceable <insert fast food outlet name> just down the stairs?
So anyway - Slovenia. The sum total of my knowledge and experience boils down to a few games of football England have played against them, a couple of wines (one of which I adore) that I’ve tried in the UK, and that aforementioned war in the early 1990s. When I travel long-haul, I invariably end buying a Lonely Planet / Rough Guide type book, a growing library of which I keep in my office at home. I haven’t for this trip, and am unsure if:
1) This is because I’m only going to be away for 10 days, or
2) I’m largely sticking to one part of the country, or
3) It’s Europe, and I figure that’s unlikely to need me to spend a ton of time learning about local practices, a sharply different culture, a different currency.
I find myself feeling guilty that I’ve essentially snubbed the entire Slovenian nation, and wondering whether the WHSmiths downstairs have got a travel section…
23:50
The flight itself is a breeze. A shade under two hours. We leave close enough to on time that we land a few minutes ahead of schedule. The airport is all but empty, and I’m the first person to the immigration queue. I’ve no baggage to collect, so am actually outside waiting for my taxi a minute or two ahead of our scheduled arrival time. My driver is parked up the road a little, presumably to avoid paying a parking fee. He turns up pretty quickly, and seems like a jaunty sort of chap.
We set off - at quite a lick. I’ve no idea what the speed limit is in these parts, but I suspect it’s not 150kph. My driver is quite animated. He gets quite involved when I mention that I worked in business psychology for 15 years. Hands leave the steering wheel, he turns round to talk to me face to face a couple of times, even though we’re travelling at upwards of 80mph. As we arrive into the city centre of Ljubljana, we very, VERY nearly have a crash. A car pulls out in front of him, and we do the whole skidding / brakes screeching thing, before pulling to a stop less than half a metre from the offending vehicle. I’m unsure whether the fault lies with my driver or the other car, but it unnerves me somewhat. Happily, we’re not far from the guesthouse, so there are few opportunities for further nerve jangling.
Kirsten and Max have gone out to grab some food. Oh, I realise we need to do a bit of explanation, don’t we? I consider myself very lucky to have had 4 ‘best’ friends throughout my life, and even luckier that 3 of them are still with me. Kirsten is one of them. We met at school when we were both 16, and just clicked. We share a similarly dark sense of humour, we have in common the same philosophies of life, and even when we’ve not seen each other in a long time, we slip into a very easy style of conversation.
Max is Kirsten’s mum. She lost her husband, John, a few years back, and asked Kirsten if she could join some of this trip. Kirsten’s driven up from Spain in a camper van with Max in tow (as well as Juancho and Milla - but we’ll deal with them tomorrow). I’ve met Max a handful of times over the years, and have always adored her company. She’s a wine hound, so we have much in common.
I catch up with them at a cool restaurant down by the riverside. I can’t see much of Ljubljana in the dark, but it seems like a lovely town - very quiet, lots of bars and restaurants, easily walkable. We natter over a couple of bottles of wine, and head back to the guesthouse around 23:00. It feels like I’ve had a long day…Meer informatie
Day 30 - Home. Amazing! Reflections…
11 juli 2024, Singapore ⋅ ☁️ 29 °C
00:30
My first flight, into Dubai, is a cakewalk. I’m in the Premium Economy cabin, still relatively new to Emirates, and it’s plush. There’s a minor snafu when I’m offered a pre takeoff drink, and there are only soft drinks available. The cabin is maybe 40% full. I’m in a bulkhead seat, but will move to an empty window row once we’ve taken off. The crew ask if I want to be fed after takeoff, and I say yes - but only if the food service will be quick. Happily, it is. I ditch my seat after eating, and grab a vacant window seat, recline, and try to get some sleep.
I’m successful in this endeavour. I sleep for around 4 hours, waking a couple of times, but drifting back off easily enough. I wake up for the last time with maybe 45 minutes to go to Dubai. The England vs Netherlands semi-final has started back home, and i’m getting intermittent updates. My plan is to screech off the plane, and find a bar in which to watch the second half.
The landing’s a bit bumpy. I’m not really used to those on an A380, but apparently there are sandstorms around Dubai tonight. The distance from plane to bar can vary wildly at DXB, so huge is the airport. I’m in luck this time though, as we pull up at gate C20, right next door to an Irish bar. I’ve got loads of time, assuming the game is done at 90 minutes. Extra time should be ok. Pens might be a bit squeaky…
02:30
Well, England are through to the final. Done in normal time, as it transpires. I suspect Spain will win the final, but finals can be funny things.
DXB is comfortably the busiest I’ve ever seen it. I *think* this is the first time I’ve transited via Dubai in July, during Summer holiday season. Idiots, everywhere. Much like the supermarket, airports deprive human beings of common sense, and a their spatial awareness.
09:00
I manage another 4 hours or thereabouts on the second flight. I’m very pleasantly surprised. I can’t remember the the last time I slept so well across two different flights. Landing into Gatwick is easy, and I’m very quickly at border control. In and out in under a minute. Seriously, this tech shit is pretty cool. Bag reclaim is a bit of a clusterfuck - I don’t know if the crew are on strike, but it feels like they’re close to it. After a good half hour, my bag emerges, and I stride on into customs. Immediately, I’m pulled over. This is literally a first ever for me. My bag is immediately taken to pieces - every single crevice unlocked. The lady searching by bags is very sweet, but ultimately, I’m conscious that I’ve been pulled aside for some reason - whether the reason I look, the way I smell, I’m unsure.
Happily, there’s nothing to find, and I find Andy shortly afterwards.
The drive home is painless, and seeing my beloved Vicki is AMAZING. We’ve never been apart for this long, and the way she smells is a happy dose of brilliant.
Some reflections:
I wasn’t sure how I’d feel travelling with a brand new partner, but Felix has been a great companion. I’m not sure it’s a massive surprise to me, but it turns out we have hugely similar beliefs, approaches to life.
Go to Cambodia. I didn’t have any pre-conceived ideas about it, but I was still stunned by this amazing country. Go - I can’t recommend it enough, GO. You’ll spend almost nothing, and discover a people, a country, a cuisine that is unlike anything else you’ll have ever seen.
North Thailand is one of my favourite places. The pace of life is addictive. I would take the North of Thailand over the islands of the South any day.
Singapore is worth a visit, if only to let me know what you really think. I didn’t love it, but I definitely didn’t hate it.
It’s amazing to be home. I knew I’d missed Vicki, but it wasn’t until I smelled here that I really knew how much.
Join me again, in - oooh, 10 days, for Slovenia. Thanks for reading x x xMeer informatie
Day 30 - Home. Amazing! Reflections...
10 juli 2024, Singapore ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C
00:30
My first flight, into Dubai, is a cakewalk. I’m in the Premium Economy cabin, still relatively new to Emirates, and it’s plush. There’s a minor snafu when I’m offered a pre takeoff drink, and there are only soft drinks available. The cabin is maybe 40% full. I’m in a bulkhead seat, but will move to an empty window row once we’ve taken off. The crew ask if I want to be fed after takeoff, and I say yes - but only if the food service will be quick. Happily, it is. I ditch my seat after eating, and grab a vacant window seat, recline, and try to get some sleep.
I’m successful in this endeavour. I sleep for around 4 hours, waking a couple of times, but drifting back off easily enough. I wake up for the last time with maybe 45 minutes to go to Dubai. The England vs Netherlands semi-final has started back home, and i’m getting intermittent updates. My plan is to screech off the plane, and find a bar in which to watch the second half.
The landing’s a bit bumpy. I’m not really used to those on an A380, but apparently there are sandstorms around Dubai tonight. The distance from plane to bar can vary wildly at DXB, so huge is the airport. I’m in luck this time though, as we pull up at gate C20, right next door to an Irish bar. I’ve got loads of time, assuming the game is done at 90 minutes. Extra time should be ok. Pens might be a bit squeaky…
02:30
Well, England are through to the final. Done in normal time, as it transpires. I suspect Spain will win the final, but finals can be funny things.
DXB is comfortably the busiest I’ve ever seen it. I *think* this is the first time I’ve transited via Dubai in July, during Summer holiday season. Idiots, everywhere. Much like the supermarket, airports deprive human beings of common sense, and a their spatial awareness.
09:00
I manage another 4 hours or thereabouts on the second flight. I’m very pleasantly surprised. I can’t remember the the last time I slept so well across two different flights. Landing into Gatwick is easy, and I’m very quickly at border control. In and out in under a minute. Seriously, this tech shit is pretty cool. Bag reclaim is a bit of a clusterfuck - I don’t know if the crew are on strike, but it feels like they’re close to it. After a good half hour, my bag emerges, and I stride on into customs. Immediately, I’m pulled over. This is literally a first ever for me. My bag is taken to pieces - every single crevice unlocked. The lady searching by bags is very sweet, but ultimately, I’m conscious that I’ve been pulled aside for some reason - whether the reason I look, the way I smell, I’m unsure.
Happily, there’s nothing to find, and I find Andy shortly afterwards.
The drive home is painless, and seeing my beloved Vicki is AMAZING. We’ve never been apart for this long, and the way she smells is a happy dose of brilliant.
Some reflections:
1) I wasn’t sure how I’d feel travelling with a brand new partner, but Felix has been a great companion. I’m not sure it’s a massive surprise to me, but it turns out we have hugely similar beliefs, approaches to life.
2) Go to Cambodia. I didn’t have any pre-conceived ideas about it, but I was still stunned by this amazing country. Go - I can’t recommend it enough, GO. You’ll spend almost nothing, and discover a people, a country, a cuisine that is unlike anything else you’ll have ever seen.
3) North Thailand is one of my favourite places. The pace of life is addictive. I would take the North of Thailand over the islands of the South any day.
4) Singapore is worth a visit, if only to let me know what you really think. I didn’t love it, but I definitely didn’t hate it.
It’s amazing to be home. I knew I’d missed Vicki, but it wasn’t until I smelled her that I really knew how much.
Join me again, in - oooh, 10 days, for Slovenia. Thanks for reading x x xMeer informatie
Day 29 - Sayonara, Singapore.
10 juli 2024, Singapore ⋅ ☁️ 28 °C
19:30
I sleep much better, waking only a couple of times, and my stomach seems to have calmed down. I’m not hungry, but deffo feel up for the day. We check out at 11, leave our bags in the reception area, and head out for Haw Par Villa, a small park in the West of the city, built by two Burmese brothers in the early part of the 20th century.
Contained within its boundaries is Hell’s Museum, an examination of the different philosophies of death in various different cultures and religions. The displays are graphic, vivid, and really quite enchanting. There’s a wall display that highlights the religious and mortal mentalities of some of the major religions of the world - Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Taoism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism.
What’s fascinating is to see how closely aligned these are - at least into one of two broad camps : those with linear views of life and death, and those with circular views of time. There’s definitely something appealing about the circular approach - where behaviour in the first life informs life in the second (known as Samsara).
Further into the exhibition, we encounter the 10 Courts of Taoist Hell - an incredibly graphic depiction of the punishments meted out for corporal sins. Some seem fair enough - rape or murder will get you *checks notes* thrown into a wok of boiling oil. Others, seem a tad harsh. Ingratitude? That’ll get your heart cut out. Drug addiction? You’ll be tied to a red hot pillar, and grilled alive. Dare to misuse a book, and your body will be sawn in two. At the end of all of this, your memory will be wiped, and you’ll be borne into the next life. Obviously, you won’t remember anything that’s gone before, so you won’t be able to learn from your mistakes, and be better. Seems a bit misguided.
It’s past midday, and the last thing on our Singapore list is to have some Singapore Chilli Crab. Dearly departed Anthony Bourdain recommended Keng Eng Kee, and who are we to disagree. The restaurant is basic - plastic tables with plastic seating. The smells coming from the kitchen are double naughty. I’m minded that chilli crab *might* not be the best thing for someone recently recovered form a dicky tum, but I can’t not have some. I order some Hor Fun noodles for ballast, and they’re banging. Kind of similar to the thick, rice noodles I’ve eaten recently in Thailand, and chock full of umami nomness. The crab, when it arrives, is spectacular. A whole crab, served in a tomato and chilli sauce, finished with ribbons of egg. It’s maybe not as hot as I thought it might be, but it is delicious. Felix describes the next 20 minutes as ‘feral eating’ and I can’t disagree. We crack, we slurp, we snarl. Such an incredible food experience.
We’re unsure how to fill our few remaining hours. We need to jump in a cab around 3 hours from now, at 17:00. We head down to the riverside, stop briefly at an Irish pub called Molly Malone’s (it’s the law), and take a walk along the river for an hour. It’s HOT in the sun, and we find ourselves craving shade. We head a little further over to the East of the city, and put down anchors at a cool little bar called Blu Jaz. Funky décor, laid back background music, a decent pint of Guinness - what’s not to like? We’re definitely both in ‘home’ mode now. Felix is downloading some TV/movies for his flights home, and I’m writing a shopping list for tomorrow to get ready for a weekend away.
We’re at Changi by 17:30, and I’m sitting in a bar with a beer by 18:00. Felix is flying from a different terminal, so we’ve said our goodbyes. Changi is an incredibly easy airport. We found it painless on the way into Singapore, and all evidence so far suggests the same for departures. Airport beers are a bit steep, mind. £14 for a pint = scary stuff.
So - some reflections on Singapore, as I’ve some time before boarding.
1) Remember when I said the city didn’t seem sterile? Well, I take *some* of that back. There IS a sterility to parts of the city centre, a combination I suspect of the stringent laws governing litter, chewing gum and the like, and the fact that the city centre is just WAY too expensive for all but the very wealthiest of Singaporeans. Most of the working and middle classes live to the North of the city, priced out of the downtown zones.
2) There are pockets of non-sterility though. Chinatown, Little India, and Malay Town are just three examples, but there are others. Even here though, property prices are so high that no one actually lives in them - but they at least have ethnic businesses in them.
3) Singapore is, by a country mile, the cleanest city I’ve been to. It’s genuinely shocking how clean it is. We spotted some litter at one point, and both gasped.
4) It is WICKED expensive. You can save some cash by eating at hawker markets, for sure - but do so with caution. If my experience is accurate, I definitely got some tummy grumbles as a result. Outside of the hawker markets, food and drink are more expensive than I think anywhere else I’ve been - including Las Vegas. It beats London and New York hands down.
4) The city just *works* - it’s been so carefully thought out and designed. Where in London you can feel the organic nature of the city’s development over centuries, Singapore feels rather like it’s the product of a town planning game like SimCity. It’s well thought out, transport is sensibly apportioned across the city, public services are available where you need them, when you need them… Despite being such an incredibly expensive city, Singapore regularly features in top 10 rankings for liveability as well.
Would I rush back? Probably not for a dedicated trip. If there was a stopover en route to/from Australia, where I could spend a couple of nights in Singapore to break the journey, yeah - I’d visit again…Meer informatie
Day 28 - Well, this lacks joy.
10 juli 2024, Singapore ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C
09:00
Meh. I wake up for the first time at 02:00, with a griping stomach. Sharp, painful stomach cramps that leave me on the verge of shouting out. Moments later, I’m wedded to the toilet. The downside of eating at so many different hawker stalls, is that it’s more difficult to pin down exactly which one I’m going to blame for upsetting my stomach. The next 4 hours are less than pleasant. I make sure to keep myself hydrated, manage to doze a little, but essentially spend my time in pain, and wearing a groove between my bed and the toilet.
Around 08:00, I ping Felix to let him know I’m spending the morning in bed. He hasn’t had any stomach issues after his hawker purchases. This at least lets me narrow down which of the stalls might be responsible for my discomfort. I feel like I’m pretty much empty, so decide to try and top up on some sleep.
21:30
Holy shit. I sleep through till 14:30. Clearly much needed. My stomach feels a little better. It’s still griping a little, but less frequently, and less painfully. Around 15:00, I head out in search of bland food, and some room groceries to keep me going. It’s hot and sunny out - I feel a little queasy, and my head feels woozy. I spend a fairly fruitless hour wondering around a mall looking for a pharmacist that Google Maps claims is in here somewhere. The mall has been laid out by an idiot, whose idiot brother is responsible for the directions signs. It is, at least, air-conditioned. I find a café selling Kaya Toast, a Singaporean speciality, consisting of white toast, a ton of butter, and a sort of coconut jam type thing. It’s very tasty, and just about bland enough for my purposes.
I manage to find the pharmacist, and a grocery store. The supermarket is wicked expensive. I have a browse, and am stunned by the cost of some fairly basic daily staples - bread, water, dairy, wine. You know, all the main food groups. Back at my room, I collapse onto my bed. A modest outing has really drained me. I fall into a deep sleep, and wake again around 18:30. I update Felix, and eat some dull, tasteless snacks. I treat myself to a Sprite, watch a movie, and hope that tomorrow will be a better day…Meer informatie
Day 27 Part 2 : Food, bowling, food.
8 juli 2024, Singapore ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C
14:45
It’s starting to rain in Malay Town, and we deserve a pit-stop. We stop at a craft beer bar called Black Sheep, and I have a fabulous pint of stout. Felix and I head over to the Marina Bay as the heavens open. We’re aiming for the Marina Bay Gardens, a botanical masterpiece in the heart of the city. We spend a lovely hour wandering around the Flower Dome, but are thwarted in our attempt to visit the Cloud Forest, as it’s closed for maintenance. We start walking around the garden areas, but the rain is getting torrential. We decide a couple of hours of downtime is in order, before we head out again later.
23:25
We head out again around 17:00, and aim for the Chinatown Complex hawker market. Around half the stalls are open. Many open first thing, and close when they sell out - and that can be as early as lunchtime. Undeterred, we start out by buying a pork rice dumpling each. Wow. Shredded BBQ pork, wrapped in a handful of rice, then steamed in a pandan leaf, and served with a Hoi Sin and/or a sweet sauce. Next up is a vegetarian Popiah, a rice pancake stuffed with a few different types of vegetable. Yum. We move on to a plate of Xiaolongbao - steamed bao buns stuffed with flavoured pork and a hot pork stock. Felix has some fried chicken and some crispy pork belly strips, and I satisfy myself with some chicken and pork satay skewers. We’ve eaten incredibly well, and probably for about £10-£15 each.
We set off in search of entertainment, and find a bowling alley in a shiny shopping mall. Our hearts sink when we see a closed sign, but a member of staff pops out to tell us that’s only until 19:30. I pop over the road for a well deserved beer, and Felix does some high-level mall browsing. The bowling is great fun. Not the highest quality, but there are some high points. I score exactly the same in the first and second games, so at least I’m consistent(ly bad). Felix wins the first game, and I win the second. Honours even, we depart in search of more food. We take a long walk up one of the smartest and most expensive shopping boulevards I’ve ever seen. Every store is a temple of fashion. It’s a little overwhelming to two guys who don’t exactly align with consumerist attitudes. After a couple of false starts, we locate Lechon Pinoy, who serve suckling pig in a variety of ways. We go for simple - rotisserie piglet served with spiced creamed spinach and some rice. It’s a sensational bit of meat. Succulent where it should be, crunchy where we want it to be. The crackling is a juicy joy. We wolf it down. We’re pretty much done though. It’s been a long day.Meer informatie
Day 27 pt 1 : Boots are made for walking
8 juli 2024, Singapore ⋅ ☁️ 28 °C
15:00
We’re out before 08:30, making for Chinatown. We meet our guide, Stephen, and the other guests joining our walking tour. There’s a family - 3 sons, a daughter and mum, and a solo German traveller called Pascal. Stephen walks us around Chinatown for 90 minutes, taking in some of the local sights, and giving us a fascinating insight into the history of this and other ethnic quarters. We stop briefly for a snack in the Chinatown Complex hawker market. They’re called Butterflies, and straddle the line between doughnuts and a kinda sesame seed bread roll. Lovely stuff. Felix and I both have eyes on stalks looking at the other stalls that are here, and decide to head back here later for some dinner. Chinatown is bustling and hectic. There’s something a little addictive about it. We wander past a few Durian stalls - and well, let’s not be coy - they stink. I think the best way to describe the odour is a cross between very ripe mango, and rotting flesh. Not so yum.
From Chinatown, we jump on the subway to head to Little India. The subway is modern, clean, air-conditioned throughout. It makes moving around town a thorough pleasure. Little India is at a markedly slower pace than Chinatown. We wander past some grocers selling some incredible looking produce. We stop for some vadai, another kinda doughnut, this time flecked with curry leaves, cumin, and chilli. Delish. We wash it down with some sugar cane juice mixed with lemon juice, which is very refreshing. When the sun’s out, it’s a HOT day. Happily, it’s fairly overcast, so we’re rarely in the sun’s hot rays.
Our next stop is Malay Town, a little further South, and not far from our hotel. On our way there, we pass through the Atlas building, which has an incredibly cool bar on the ground floor. There’s a gin ‘tower’ - which Stephen tells us used to be staffed by women wearing white fairy outfits, attached to pulleys in the ceiling, to grab the bottles of the very highest shelves. Sadly, no longer - but it must have been quite the sight. Malay Town is a maze of narrow shopping streets. There are some really cool vintage stores, some music shops, and just random tat emporia. We stop briefly at the Sultan Mosque, before putting down roots at a chai shop to end our tour. I’ve done 12,000 steps this morning, in flip-flops.Meer informatie
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Best fun ever! Reminds me of that house in Cornwall.