Day 7 : Cape Town Capers
25 stycznia 2024, Afryka Południowa ⋅ ⛅ 17 °C
We both sleep much better. At 09:00, the sun is already warming our apartment. We take a look around the rooftop pool and bar during daylight, and take in the views. We grab an Uber into the city centre to the District Six museum. It’s a very simple museum, taking up a small corner building in the heart of what was District Six during segregation. The story it tells is anything but simple. It leaves me angry, sad, and dejected. For those unfamiliar, after the Western Cape had been colonised by white ‘explorers’, District Six became a bustling, multi-cultural neighbourhood following the ending of slavery in and around Cape Town in 1834. In 1966, the white, apartheid government decreed that the neighbourhood would be razed to the ground, and rebuilt as a whites only district. More than 60,000 inhabitants of District Six were forcibly removed from their homes, and relocated to the Cape Flats, outside the centre of Cape Town. It remains one of the most egregious acts of racist abuse under the apartheid regime. The everyday stories of everyday folks that lived through this horrific treatment are both heartwarming and heartbreaking.
We head over to Bree Street in search of food and wine, and find both at a great little seafood place called Seabreeze. We manage to find a shady table (in the shade, not dodgy - obvs), and cower from the stifling afternoon heat. It’s 32-33C today, and feels it. After a lazy lunch, we walk for 20 minutes to the Mount Nelson hotel - one of THE great hotels of the world. It’s set in plush gardens, standing in which you just wouldn’t know you were in a bustling, modern city. We’re both staggeringly hot after our walk, so hide out inside the Planet Bar where the air-conditioning does wonderful things. I have an Inverroche Amber - a local (ish) Cape gin, and Vicki spends some time paddling around in the deep end of her Chardonnay. It’s a very civilised place to spend some time. We grab an Uber to pick up our hire car for the next 10 days, make a quick pit stop at Pick N Pay for wine/Savanna/biltong supplies, and head back to Sea Point. The heat is still with us, so we head to the rooftop bar for a well deserved sharpener. I have a dip in the pool.
We freshen up, and head out for dinner further down Sea Point beach - The Greek Fisherman. It has a beautiful courtyard set back from the road, which even on a Thursday evening is packed. We have some calamari and Spanakopita (ordered correctly this time…) to start. Both are sensational. Vicki’s main of simply grilled Kingklip is aces. Kingklip is actually part of the eel family, and has a firm, white texture not dissimilar to hake or halibut, and a beautiful flavour. The roast lamb I have is beyond brilliant. It’s also the size of one of Jupiter’s moons, and I struggle to finish it without assistance from my coaching team. When it’s done properly, Greek food is one of my very favourite things to eat. The philosophy is to do simple things to very high quality ingredients, and the result can be magical.
A 20 minute walk back to our hotel serves primarily as a digestive aid. We briefly consider a nightcap at the rooftop bar, but defer to watching the second half of the movie we started last night. We bravely make it to the end this time, and celebrate by falling into bed for sleeps. Czytaj więcej
Day 6 - Westward Bound
24 stycznia 2024, Afryka Południowa ⋅ 🌙 19 °C
I have a bit of a weird night’s sleep, and when Vicki wakes, she tells me she’s been the same. Some loud noises through the night, and I actually wake up during the night feeling a little queasy - the result, no doubt, of the oversized feasting at dinner last night. We skip breakfast, and get ourselves ready to head to King Shaka, the new international airport built outside Durban for the 2010 FIFA World Cup. As it’s a domestic flight, the security protocols are quite a bit lighter - no real worries about liquids and the like. We’re here in plenty of time, so park ourselves after security control at the brilliantly named Zululand Brewing Company pub for a couple of wines/Savannas to ease us into the flight. The 2 hour flight is largely uneventful, and quickly enough, we’re landing into Cape Town International, where we’re told the temperature has been in the high 30s for the past week.
Happily, our drivers MPV is heavily air-conditioned, and the traffic gods are kind to us. We’re soon checked into Hyde Hotel, our home for the next week. It feels quite luxurious to be unpacking clothes, rather than living out of a rucksack as we have been for the first few days of our trip. We’ve not eaten much today, so head out in search of sustenance. We find a great little seafront bar called Rockpool, and settle in. It’s busy - for a Wednesday night, really busy. The views of the dying daylight sun over the South Atlantic are beautiful. There’s a real southern California feel to this part of the Cape Town coastline - palm Trees, long stretches of beach… Fed and watered, we head back to our hotel, and have a bit more of an explore. There’s a rooftop pool and bar, which has amazing views towards Table Mountain and Lion’s Head. We sit at the bar, and chat to Adrian, the bar manager, over a glass of a decent Pinotage/Malbec blend. We start to watch a movie, but the long day is rapidly catching up with me. I’m struggling to keep my eyes open by 23:00, and collapse into bed. Czytaj więcej
Day 5 - Not the weather we ordered
23 stycznia 2024, Afryka Południowa ⋅ ☁️ 20 °C
I’ve sprained my ankle. Completely own fault - in Sandton on Saturday, I wasn’t looking where I was going, and walked full pace into a metal bollard. The sprain has worsened over the past day or so, to the point that I suggested I sleep in the second bedroom in the cottage, to save Vicki from kicking it in her sleep. I’m a little discombobulated when Vicki wakes me at around 04:00 to let me know there’s *something weird* flying around the other bedroom. I briefly consider putting my brave boy pants on, and going to investigate, but determine that ultimately, that’s a much later job. We’re up by 07:30 for breakfast, which we eat in a deserted and eerily quiet dining room. There’s a persistent drizzle in the air. By the time we walk back to our cottage from breakfast, it’s become rain. The sky broods, and we both make sure our waterproofs are readily accessible should we need them. There’s a bit of a chill in the air as well. I suspect we’re not going to be doing a lot of outside stuff today…
We check out at 10:30, and head South towards Pietermaritzburg to meet my v old friend Jooj for lunch. It’s been fully 18 years since we saw each other and sooooooo much has happened in that time. We stop at Howick Falls on the way, a beautiful 100m and powerful waterfall on the Mgeni river. It’s mizzly overhead, and the spray from the falls contributes to an overall sense of dampness. We head off the southbound N3 at Hilton, and cruise down into Maritzburg, through some places that jog deeply seated memories. One brings back a particularly haunting flashback of a crushing hangover the day after the Rugby World Cup Final in 2003. I considered myself fortunate that most South Africans wanted England to win more than Australia (just) so I had a lot of folks with whom to celebrate. That was also the night I learnt that ‘Double Spiced’ is not the name of a rum, and that I’d been drinking double Spiced and Cokes all night. Ouchie.
Meeting Jooj is amazing. We fall back into an incredibly easy sibling-like patter. She’s just great fun to hang out with. I tried to describe her to Vicks the other day, and the best I could manage was a bundle of crazy fun energy… She doesn’t seem to me to have changed at all from the teenager / young adult I first met 20 odd years ago. All too soon, it’s time for us to continue on down to Durban. This is the shortest, and yet most stressful drive we’ve taken thus far. The highway south of PMburg is properly busy, and contains more like the proportion of dickhead drivers we’re used to in the UK. Happily, we’re only an hour from our overnight stop in Umhlanga Rocks.
Checked in and settled, we head for a wander on the beach. It’s windy, overcast, and trying to rain. We decide to cut our losses, and head to a cool little beach bar called Sunsets and Mermaids for some wine… A lovely bottle of Vergelegen later, we realise time’s getting on a bit. We hustle back to our hotel (it’s all of 15m away) via the Pick N Pay for a bottle of wine, and get ourselves a bit freshened up for dinner.
We eat at a new place called Mitera. Greek influenced Mediterranean menu, very reasonably priced, very tasty. The rain is really coming down now. We’re seated on a little outdoor but not outdoor terrace, so don’t get drenched. I commit a bit of a FUBAR by accidentally ordering Pastitsio (a carb and protein laden, heavy, pasta based meat pie type thing) as a starter, when I had meant to order Spanakopita (a feather light, filo pastry pie containing spinach and feta). It’s very tasty, but I suspect is going to leave us whatever the opposite of light on the loafers is. Our mains are sensational. I have some amazing grilled prawns, while Vicki wades into a lamb shank Kleftiko. More than sated, we waddle across the road back to our hotel, and briefly discuss watching a movie before falling into a deep, food-fuelled coma… Czytaj więcej
Day 4 - Pt 2 : Foot off the gas...
22 stycznia 2024, Afryka Południowa ⋅ 🌫 15 °C
We’re having a much deserved, lazy afternoon. The last few days have been pretty full-on, and some slower paced meandering is called for. We’ve a ‘relatively’ short drive down to Nottingham Road - about 2 hours all in. Back on the N3, despite it being a week-day/work day, the motorway is still blissfully quiet. We stop for a critically urgent Savanna at the Nottingham Road Hotel, then head down to our stop for the night, Rawdons, which is just a few minutes down the road. I remember coming here 20 years ago for a pit-stop beer while heading through the Kwazulu-Natal Midlands. It’s a very pretty country hotel, with a pub attached, serving beers from the Nottingham Road Brewery that’s located onsite. We have a quick snifter, get checked in, and then have a late lunch. The weather has turned decidedly cooler. Vicks is a little chilly sitting outside the pub having a drink. As we walk down to our cottage, there’s the faint hint of some rain. Not what we ordered at all. My early start catches up with me, and I have a deep, afternoon nap. We’re staying in a lovely cottage by the estate’s lake. As I wake from my nap, I open the curtains to a beautiful view, and the sound of Ibis calls.
Our late lunch means we don’t need dinner, so we grab a bottle of wine from the bar, and spend an hour or two in the guest lounge. I think we’re amongst maybe 4-5 total guests? It’s certainly very quiet. This week is the first week back for school kids in SA after their long summer holiday. It’s a Monday. These things combine to mean that we very much have the run of the place. We decide to take the rest of the bottle back to our room to watch a movie. The pace of our day is exactly what we needed. We’re both looking forward to a good sleep, and are in bed shortly after 23:00… Czytaj więcej
Day 4- Pt 1: What time do you call this?
22 stycznia 2024, Afryka Południowa ⋅ 🌫 16 °C
The 04:45 alarm is brutal - for one of us. Vicks has not slept well, and elects to stay in bed instead of going on our morning game drive. We’ve had a pretty full on few days, including transcontinental travel, and I think she’s just tuckered. I head out though, grabbing a quick coffee before heading into the park at 05:30. As I’m on my own, Lymon suggests I join another group going out. We’re still only 4 guests in the truck. My guide this morning is Noles - Umzolozolo’s chief ranger. She’s a pint-pot bundle of energy, and has the most amazing eyes for spotting game. At one point, she spots a rhino a couple of kilometres away from us. Even through my binoculars, I’m not 100% convinced it’s not a big boulder. Our game drive is pretty successful - lots of kudu, zebra and wildebeest. We see a huge male hippo having a snooze in a small lake. The sun rising over the savannah is beautiful. There’s a dewy mist in the air that the sun is desperately trying to burn through. It’s quite ethereal. We spend some time with a hunting black-backed jackal. It leaps around looking for its prey of small rodents. Utterly jaunty. We spot a small herd of Eland - one of the biggest antelopes on the planet. They’re skittish, so can ’t get too close for fear of spooking them. Around the corner, we come close to that rhino that Noles spotted earlier. He’s a big boy - recently imported into the park as part of efforts to continue to rebuild the population after decades of poaching. Poaching remains a critical threat to these majestic beasts, but the anti-poaching tactics *seem* to be working.
We receive a radio call from another jeep that two of the park’s cheetahs have been spotted to the North West of us. There are also two lions sleeping with a kill nearby. We choose to head over to the cheetah spotting, and take off at pace. We stop to say hi to some giraffe, and after 15 minutes of being thrown around the back of the truck, arrive to find two cheetahs with very fat bellies snoozing after a kill. There’s still some blood around their mouths, so fresh is the kill. We spend 20 minutes with them, swapping between the naked eye, binoculars and the camera on my iPhone. They’re such stunning creatures - so graceful on the move. These two are going nowhere though. I flick through my photos, and the distance to the cheetahs is just too far for my phone to take decent pics. I shall draw a picture for Vicki so she doesn’t feel she’s missed out.
We stop for a bush coffee - black coffee, with a glug (technical term) of Amarula cream. Delicious. The sun’s getting properly hot now it’s 08:00. We decide to head back to the lodge for breakfast. I check in on Vicki, who’s had another nearly 4 hours of sleep, and who feels much better for it. We have a quick breakfast, hear a large warthog butchering an orphaned baby warthog (circle of life etc etc), and get ourselves packed for the next phase of our journey. Czytaj więcej
Day 3 - Pt 2 : The Circle of Life
21 stycznia 2024, Afryka Południowa ⋅ ⛅ 20 °C
The roads towards the part of the park where the lions were sighted earlier today are pretty basic - very bumpy and rocky. The jeep makes short work of them, but in the back, we feel a little like we’re being thrown around at times. It’s still very hot, with hardly any breeze. Driving across the African plains is one of my very happiest places. En route to the North of the park, we meet some kudu - easy to spot from the white stripes across their back, and the amazing spiralled antlers the males have. Whisper it, but they’re also incredibly tasty… We see a herd of wildebeest (or gnu) alongside some mighty water buffalo and some zebra. In the distance, we can see some Waterbok. I’ve only brought my iPhone for photography, as:
a) we’re only here for 1 night, and I typically only use my SLR for wildlife, so it felt a bit of a faff, and
b) when I took my SLR out to charge its battery, it was covered in an as yet unidentified sticky substance, and I didn’t have time to figure out what it was, much less clean it ready for use.
As a result, I’m conscious that my photos won’t do justice to the majesty of these amazing creatures, but we’re maybe a little less worried about that than we used to be…
The two male lions we’re tracking have been spotted near Nambiti plains, having taken down a young giraffe. It sounds like they’re in a food coma, and readying themselves for a deep sleep. They may not move until tomorrow. We spend some time trying to locate them, but it’s ultimately fruitless. We elect to stop for our sundowners. Jeez - it’s the smartest bush bar I’ve ever been to. Previous safaris have been more of a toss a beer from the cooler / open it with your teeth type scenario. Here, Lymon sets up a small table for us (part of the jeep’s optional equipment apparently), and lays out some snacks for us - dried mango, chilli corn kernels, some drowoers (a kind of dried boerewors sausage), and some nuts. Vicki’s gin and tonic is poured in front of her and she’s given the choice of lemon or lime. Lymon says we can use the bush bathroom (behind the truck), which we do. It’s incredibly civilised for the middle of the African bush.
Lymon suggests we take another look for the lions, as he’s had some intel in from the network of rangers across the park. We head back to the spot we were looking earlier, and find another truck parked up, who have figured out where the boys are, but they’re not visible in the long grass. We can see long stems of grass moving as the lions roll around in their slumber, but it’s not exactly a Kodak moment. Tracking them down has taken quite a chunk of time, and trucks are supposed to be out of the reserve by (around..) 19:00. We head back towards Umzolozolo at a brisk pace. We quickly see a large, female giraffe. Lymon is all but certain that this is the mother of the youngster killed by the lions, desperately looking for her child - it’s a reminder of the brutality of the circle of life…. In the distance, a thunder and lightning storm is kicking off. Huge forks of lightning around 20km to the West of us. As we drive back to the lodge, it feels like we might just be aiming for the eye of the storm. Happily we’re not, but it provides us with some entertainment as we bundle across the rocky terrain.
Arriving back at the lodge, we freshen up, and have dinner. The food is amazing. I have venison for my main course, which changes daily depending on what local antelope are available. Tonight it’s Eland, which is the largest antelope in Africa, and compares with the Canadian Moose in size. It’s delicious eating though, with a much finer flavour than the Kudu I ate in Johannesburg. Vicki’s Kingclip fillet is delicious as well. We’re eating outside in a boma - a generic Swahili word for an enclosure. There’s a raging fire in the centre of the boma, and our fellow guests and we are seated around it. It’s a spectacular little piece of Africa. It’s trying to rain, but we never get the sound and light show of the thunderstorm that we feared. We manage one more glass of wine in the bar after dinner, but we’re both tuckered after a long and busy day. We’re back in our cottage before 22:00, and asleep before 23:00. We’ve an even earlier alarm call in the morning… Czytaj więcej
Day 3 - Pt 1 : The long/not winding road
21 stycznia 2024, Afryka Południowa ⋅ ⛅ 20 °C
We are both less than impressed with our 06:15 alarm call. It’s a necessary evil though, as we’ve a long drive ahead of us. After our Las Vegas / California road trip in 2021, I reflected that somewhere around 4 1/2 to 5 hours should be the limit of what we attempt in a single day. I’m testing the reaches of that today, with a drive of 4 and a bit hours down to Umzolozolo, the safari lodge that will be our overnight stop. We’re both a bit more organised than we give ourselves credit for, and are ready to check out by 07:30. We’ve done a decent job of rinsing the hotel bars and restaurant while we’ve been here. We’re both pleasantly surprised to find that our total sundries bill is a shade over £70.
I’m not normally a fan of motorways, and typically much prefer the road less travelled, to the one infested with idiots that make the average journey a pain in the ass. Today though, we’re covering a shade over 400km, and have a relatively narrow arrival window - after 12:30, but before lunch at 13:00, so motorway it is. We head off at a steady 120 km/h (the speed limit) on the mighty N3 between Joburg and Durban. The car intermittently beeps at us, and it takes us longer than it strictly should to figure out that this is the automated toll pass letting us know we’ve passed a toll point, and have been automatically charged. Further down the road, there are toll booths to pass through, but closer to Joburg, it’s a highly efficient automatic system. Driving down the N3 evokes memories of a similar trip 20 or so years ago, LONG before the advent of average speed controls and electronic toll gates, of 160 km/h cruising speeds to shorten the mammoth distances between stops, of a fairly lax attitude to the so-called alcohol driving laws… Our journey today is a somewhat more sensible affair. Highway driving in South Africa is, it turns out, a much less stressful experience than the UK. For a start, there are WAY fewer vehicles on the road. Secondly, the roads are pretty simple and straight (pardon the pun) forward. There are stretches where the road disappears in a straight line into the horizon 20-30km away. Some find the lack of corners at best boring, and at worst stupefying. I am not amongst them. After 2 hours, we’ve covered more than half the distance.
We leave the highway maybe 20kms from our lodge. After 10 of those kilometres, we turn off onto a dirt road, which takes us deep into Nambiti private game reserve. The road is, well - let’s not call it names. It’s a rocky, slippery track, with hidden pot holes and the occasional ditch. We’re in a small Suzuki. The two do not mix brilliantly. We take it fairly steadily, but there are still a couple of hairy moments. We’re both pretty pleased when we arrive at the park gate. Parking up, we’re met by our driver, Lymon, who drives us the last couple of clicks to our lodge.
Oh. My. God. This place is freaking amazing. Our last safari experience in South Africa was at Kruger, a place I’ve visited many times, and which I love. It’s intentionally targeting the mass market, with accommodation options from as little as £10 per night. It’s usually self-catered, with a small cafe and restaurant for those not fussed with cooking. Kruger has paved roads, and you’re as likely to find folks driving themselves around the park as taking an organised game drive. One of the big rest stops in Kruger will likely have 200-300 people staying at any one time, and there are 10+ such big rest stops across the park. Umzolozolo has 5 rooms. On arrival, we’re greeted by the team singing a song of welcome in Zulu. We’re welcomed by name by every member of staff, wherever we go. They even spell Vicki’s name correctly. We grab a much deserved drink, before tucking into a fabulous lunch. We’re taken to our room, which is spectacular. An incredible view over the game park valley, a stunning plunge pool, a bathroom that is quite a lot bigger than is strictly necessary, an outdoor his and hers shower… We have a couple of hours before our afternoon game drive. I spend some of it in the plunge pool. We’re conscious that our game drive is three hours long, and there’s not always a great place to use the bush bathroom, so we’re somewhat parsimonious with our liquid intake. I reason that wine is a dehydrating agent, so it’ll probably all be fine…
Lymon collect us and our sundowner coolbox just before 16:00. We were asked earlier what we’d like to drink at the rest stop during our game drive. Savanna for me, G+T for Vicki. Another couple were due to join us in Lymon’s truck, but have decided to rest this evening (the guy is ensconced in a Premier League game…), so we have the luxury of our own personal driver. Lymon asks what we’d most like to see during our stay. Our last safari together in Kruger was great, but lacked one game experience - big cats. He nods, and we head off into the park. Czytaj więcej
Day 2 - Sun, Sandton , Savanna
20 stycznia 2024, Afryka Południowa ⋅ ⛅ 18 °C
Day 2 - Sun, Sandton, Savanna
Fair fucks - the baby did not make ANY noise. Not a jot. Bless her little cotton socks. Her Mum and Dad are equally surprised / pleased. Vicks and I both sleep fitfully, but manage around 5 hours - enough to see us through the coming day. As we start to descend into OR Tambo airport, my view out of the window speaks of sunshine and warmth. Coming from a week of sub-zero temperatures in the UK, it’s going to be a blessed relief.
Our driver, Norman, meets us in arrivals, and whisks us over to Sandton, a plush and lush suburb of Johannesburg. I’ve only ever used Joburg as a stepping stone - a first or last pit stop on my way in or out of the country, and this trip will be no different. It’s just never held an attraction for me. Going back 20 years to my first visits to South Africa, all I heard about the city was the risk to tourists, which didn’t exactly endear it to me.
We’re staying at the familiar Sandton Sun hotel. We unceremoniously dump our bags in our room, and head out in search of sustenance. Sitting on the sun deck (albeit in the shade), we both find ourselves sinking into our chairs with a warm sense of wellbeing. Vicki dives into a large Chardonnay, while I have my first Savanna on African soil in 5 years. Both hit the spot in the best possible way…
We have actual chores to do this afternoon. Grocery shopping, hire car collection and so on - so despite the incredibly strong temptation to put roots down, we drag ourselves away. 30 minutes of mall wandering later, we’re back in the Atrium bar at our hotel. I get the car collection out of the way, and reward myself with a stunning glass of Cabernet Franc. Of such things will our days be made…
We’re ready for dinner a little earlier than needed, so head back to the sun deck for sundowners. The sun is still hot, but the Savanna is cold. I’m struck by how the balance of the clientele has changed. When I first visited in 2003, it was unthinkable that a smart hotel like this would have had black customers. Now, the balance is 90/10 in favour of customers of colour. There is a growing indigenous middle class in South Africa, the happy result of decades of affirmative action policies that are seeing folks get a fair break. I suspect not all of white South Africa is entirely supportive, but fuck ‘em.
Dinner this evening is at Trump’s Grill on Nelson Mandela Square. I’ve avoided eating here in the past, for the daft reason that it might be associated with that orange faced dipshit. It’s not - Trump's is a decades old family butchery in Johannesburg, and in 1994 they opened their restaurant. I’m the idiot. We’re given a brief tour of the wine cellar by the enigmatic Michael, and a quick tasting of some reds that should go well with our meal. Our food is delicious. Simple, but incredibly tasty. Kudu fillet for me, and a South African rib-eye for Vicki. We judge the amount perfectly, and even have some of our amazing Pinotage left to accompany our post dinner ramblings. We’re not quite ready for bed, so head back to the sun deck for one last glass of wine. The place is jumping. The DJ is playing a passable version of house music, and for a moment - it feels like we’re in Ibiza or Croatia.
One glass turns out to be quite sufficient. We wobble back to our room, and collapse into bed, knowing we’ve got an early start tomorrow… Czytaj więcej
Day 1 - A bit weird and civilised
19 stycznia 2024, Anglia ⋅ ☀️ 5 °C
We’ve grown accustomed to flying West over the past couple of years - whether to the Caribbean, the US West Coast, or New York - and the timing of those flights to work with time differences has dictated our airport experience. 06:00 alarms, early morning cab rides, early afternoon flights - there’s nothing wrong with them, per se, but it can feel a little rushed. Flying South for this trip, with only a two hour time difference means an overnight flight, and an evening departure. Our cab isn’t due until 15:30, and our flight doesn’t depart until 21:10. As a result, we have what feels like a luxurious amount of time to get ourselves ready. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d finished packing yesterday. For me - that’s actually a pretty good result. I’ve been known to start packing a week before we’re heading off somewhere.
Around lunchtime, I realise i’m both bored, and not really of any help to Vicki’s packing efforts, so I relocate to the pub. It’s all a bit weird, but also civilised. We’re heading through Friday rush hour traffic to get to Heathrow - a journey which can be a ball-ache at the best of times. We’re amazed though, when what could have been a 2 hour journey is done in 75 minutes. We’re at the airport with some 4 hours to spare. Happily, we’re more than capable of passing the time. We locate a bar, and settle in for the duration. We read, we cackle, we booze. A couple of hours passes in the blink of an eye, and it’s time to board our flight. As we’re heading towards the gate, we get chatting to a few different couples, and we’re both struck by how relaxed and easy going everyone seems to be. The rush of the short haul business flights has ended, and all of the flights remaining for the night are long-haul - Joburg, Rio, Buenos Aires, Sydney. Folks are heading off on their travels, going to see loved ones, starting a new life in some cases. There’s a positivity to the throng that I just can’t remember experiencing in recent times.
We’ve treated ourselves to Premium Economy, as we’re on an overnight flight. With the best will in the world, I know I won’t get much/any sleep in an economy BA seat. We arrive to our seat to find a young couple directly in front of us, with their newborn baby. Our hearts sink. I mean - noise cancelling headphones can only do so much… Vicki is a little disconcerted when the pilot says that our wings need de-icing. It’s a fairly common occurrence in colder climates than the UK, but it’s a new experience. Whilst she’s soooooooooo much of a better flyer than maybe 15 years ago, there’s a lingering distrust of aircraft and flying. Meanwhile, I’m enthralled by it. I’ve never seen the wing de-icing happening. In the dark night at Heathrow, the cranes lowering a massive pressure washer type spray onto the wings kind of reminds me of an alien movie. It’s v cool. The de-icing delays us a little, and we take off closer to 22:00 than is ideal. The pilot assures us though that we’ll have a quick flight, and should still land into Johannesburg on time.
At the end of the dinner service, I’m struck by the gargantuan difference between my neat and orderly tray, and the devastation wreaked by Tropical Storm Vicki. She’s not delighted when I capture this feeling for posterity’s sake.
It’s getting late, and we both want to try and maximise sleep. One more wine to see us off, I reckon…. Czytaj więcej
Day 7 - Home. Meh.
10 listopada 2023, Anglia ⋅ ⛅ 10 °C
We make up most of the flight delay en-route, as the jet stream powers us along. We’ve both managed to sleep for a few hours - not a given on these routes out of North Eastern USA. We arrive into Heathrow to lashings of rain. YUM. We both manage to doze in the cab home. We’re greeted at the front door by our two tubby tabbies, and relax into a day of snoozing… Czytaj więcej
Day 6 - Stop Spreading the News...
9 listopada 2023, Stany Zjednoczone ⋅ 🌙 11 °C
We’re both really tuckered this morning. I’ve been awake since 05:00, and Vicki’s had quite a restless night. Check-out is noon, so we decide to take our time getting packed up and checked out before heading downtown for a few hours ahead of our cab to the airport. We have amazing sandwiches at a diner in the financial district for lunch, then head to the 9/11 Memorial. It stops us in our tracks. You can’t get away from 9/11 in New York - if for no other reason than pretty much wherever you are in the city you’ll see 1 World Trade Centre/The Freedom Tower right at the South end of Manhattan. More than that though, there’s a sobriety about 9/11 that pervades - a quiet recollection that demands respect. When we visited New York in 2009, Ground Zero was a wasteland, fenced off from public view. Now, there are amazing and yet heartbreaking monuments to the towers, the thousands of people that died in their destruction. The footprint of each tower has been replaced with a water feature, and a bronze cast around the outside is engraved with the name of every single person that died in the terrorist attacks. Actually - not every single person - for understandable reasons, the Memorial doesn’t provide remembrance for the terrorists involved in perpetrating the attacks. It’s a staggering monument to the evil of humankind. We both well up.
Our jauntiness balloon is somewhat deflated, so we take a walk through the financial district, and pitch up at a brilliant bar called the Dead Rabbit, which has one of the biggest collections of whisky that I've seen. Some wine/Guinness and a brilliant American Malt Whisky later, and we’re feeling a little recovered. It’s a quick subway ride back to our Ace Hotel to grab our bags, and we wile away an hour (Happy, happily..) in the Lobby Bar waiting for our cab to speed us to the airport.
‘Speed us’ was apparently a misnomer of the worst kind. The drive between JFK and Midtown can be done in as few as 25 minutes. On Saturday evening when we arrived into JFK, it was shade under an hour. On a Thursday afternoon, the trip to JFK takes 1h30m. Just nose to tail most of the way. The slow crawl gives me some time to reflect on New York…
I love it. It remains one of my very favourite cities on the planet. SO much to do, SO much to see, SO many great places to eat and hang out.
It is wildly expensive for a British traveller. Hotel accommodation in Manhattan is off-the-chain pricey. Eating and drinking out are painful at times. Happy Hours are out there, but not the opportunity for bargain boozing that we’ve seen in Nevada and California in recent years.
We still feel like we’ve barely scratched the surface, but we’ve definitely got more under the skin of this behemoth of a city. We spent more time in neighbourhood dive bars, the boozy life-blood of the city. We ate in more neighbourhood diners, we experienced rather than saw the city.
We’ll be back for sure - and I suspect in far fewer than the 14 years since our last visit.
JFK is, well, JFK. Queues abound, and the TSA teams are their usual cheery selves. We grow a little frustrated at our slow progress, but honestly, leaving the US typically feels like this. We park up in a wine bar for some last minute Chardonnay. Our flight is a little delayed leaving, but after a quick feed, we’re both asleep pretty quickly. Czytaj więcej
Day 5 - Party like it’s yer birthday...
8 listopada 2023, Stany Zjednoczone ⋅ ⛅ 7 °C
I’m not that big on birthdays. I’ve never really felt like it’s much more than just another day. I’m definitely not afraid of the number getting bigger - I’ve just never had that much appetite for celebrating the day. As a result, we’ve got a fairly low key day planned. Some mooching around 5th Avenue and the Diamond District, a walk in the park, dinner.
We kick things off with a walk down Lexington Avenue to see the Chrysler Building - that most beautiful of Art Deco skyscrapers. It’s relatively small by modern standards, and is increasingly difficult to see from other parts of town, as much larger (and uglier) buildings have sprouted around it. As we walk past it, the frosty November sun is glinting off the metallic roof. Stunning…
We wander over to 5th Avenue, and the Rockefeller Centre. The Christmas Ice Rink is up and running, but the Christmas Tree isn’t due until later this week. We head up to the Rock Observatory, and spend a while taking a fresh look from 300m of the New York skyline. The Empire State has a special place in our hearts, but I’m not sure that I don’t prefer the view from the Rockefeller. For a start, there’s an amazing view of the Empire State itself. There’s also a jaw-dropping perspective over Central Park, plush with reds and browns of Autumn. We stop in briefly at Trump Tower so that I may piss on it.
From there, it’s time for refreshment, so we rest our weary feet in the Champagne Bar at the storied Plaza Hotel. Deciding that our wallets won’t survive the battering of a second, third and fourth round, we head to the West to McGee’s Irish Pub, the inspiration for the TV show How I Met Your Mother - a favourite of both of ours. A couple of beers later, and we’re both getting peckish. Just around the corner is a speakeasy style burger joint, imaginatively called Burger Joint. Anthony Bourdain declared it his favourite burger in New York City. It’s good. It’s really, really good. Is it the best in the city? That’s gonna be down to personal preference. Whisper it, but we both think the flavour profile of the burger we had over in Brooklyn yesterday is better. Still, it’s a fun place to hang out for a while, and recharge our batteries. We head North into Central Park. It is COLD today - bright and sunny, but cold. We meander via the Carousel, walk past the Wollman’s Ice Rink, take a left over to the Tavern on the Green - which is sadly shut today. We stop in at a coffee shop in the centre of the park, and (drumroll please) each have a coffee. Disgusted with ourselves, we exit the park into the Upper West Side, passing the Dakota Building where John Lennon was so brutally murdered, and find ourselves an Irish dive bar, that’s pretty busy for 15:00 on a Wednesday afternoon.
After a couple of hours rest back at the Ace Hotel, accompanied by a bottle of Laurent Perrier Rosé for the birthday boy, we head out for dinner at one of David Burke’s restaurants. We had dinner at one of his places in 2009 to celebrate our engagement, and the style, mood and food are all reminiscent of that meal. Lobster dumplings, an incredible Burrata salad, a stunning scallop and corn dish, and a squid ink pasta for the ages - YUM. They restaurant provides us with a stuffed penguin to help celebrate my birthday - a big help.
It’s getting late - or at least, it’s after 21:00, and we’re getting tired. We head back to the hotel for a final glass of wine, and collapse into bed. Czytaj więcej
Day 4 - No, YOU'RE a dumbo
7 listopada 2023, Stany Zjednoczone ⋅ 🌙 14 °C
Yes, on holiday - but I haven’t been able to leave completely behind the administration of my Dad’s estate. Two calls early this morning - including one from the coroner’s office to confirm the coroner has decided to open a full inquest into my Dad’s death. Amazing news to which to wake…
We’re up and out in decent time, and walk over into the Murray Hill neighbourhood to have some breakfast. It sets us up for what is going to be a busy day. We take the downtown subway to the City Hall stop on the Manhattan side, and then walk over the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s majestic, and such an iconic sight. Yesterday we sailed underneath it, while today we walk over it into Brooklyn. During the walk from one side to the other, we ruminate on some of the slightly forced acronyms and nicknames used for New York neighbourhoods. Some make good sense - SoHo stands for South of Houston Street. NoMad is an area North of Madison Avenue. Then things start to get a little tenuous - Tribeca is the triangle below Canal Street, NoLIta (yes, including the capitalisation) is the area North of Little Italy. Aaaaaaand, then you have DUMBO and RAMBO - which stand for Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass, and Right Around the Manhattan Bridge Overpass. And this isn’t just crazy tourist talk - all around North West Brooklyn, we see signs for new DUMBO buildings. It feels a bit of a stretch, to say the least…
We didn’t spend much (any) real time in Brooklyn on our first visit together, so today is all about what this most populous borough of New York has to offer. Our first port of call is the building that was used for exterior shots in the utterly funny TV show Brooklyn 99 (are you spotting a theme here?). From there, we walk up to the famous mural of Biggie Smalls, commemorating this much loved and missed Brooklyn native. We catch a subway over to the Bushwick neighbourhood, and stop for an incredibly crucial beer.
We’re then taking part in a street art walking tour. I read about this a few months back, and thought it would be a great way to spend a couple of hours. I’m not disappointed. Some of the artwork on display is staggering. Such talent. Some is celebratory in its style, some are a form of shrine. Others are classical ‘tag’ based art, and others again are dedicated to the queer population of New York, which has had such a home in this borough. We’re blown away by some of the murals on display. I only hope my photos can do it justice. We spend a little time with Leia, who is on what appears to be some kind of foreign exchange programme from Germany, and is currently painting one of the walls in the neighbourhood. It’s 15:00 by the time we’re finished, and we’re both ravenous. The bar we stopped in at earlier apparently serves one of the best burgers in Brooklyn. We decide to test this for ourselves. It’s good, really good.
Refuelled, we meander back to Manhattan via a couple of happy hours, a drugstore, a Whole Foods market, a wine emporium. Dinner is served in our room, as we’re both knackered after another 20km walking day. Vicks claims she’s not going to sleep, she’s just resting her face. She slumbers maybe 20 seconds later. The time is 21:25. I am not far behind… Czytaj więcej
Day 3 - Circle Line, Drinking Wine...
6 listopada 2023, Stany Zjednoczone ⋅ ☁️ 11 °C
Jet lag works for us again. We’re up and out by 08:30. We need to be over at Pier 83 on the Hudson by around 08:45, so stop at a bodega for a quick breakfast sandwich on our walk over. The Circle Line was one of our tourist highlights on our last trip - so we’re doing it again. Honestly, if you’re ever in New York, I cannot recommend it highly enough. As a way of seeing a huge chunk of New York, and particularly Manhattan, of getting your bearings, it can’t be beaten. It’s properly chilly this morning though - sunny, but cold. On the ferry, we’re definitely feeling the wind-chill. The views of downtown Manhattan are sensational, we have a fantastic sight of the Statue of Liberty. The tour then heads up the East River (which becomes the Harlem River) to the East of Manhattan. Heading under the Brooklyn Bridge is a bit of a moment. Looking West towards the Empire State and the Chrysler Building gives a fresh perspective. Further North, the ferry starts to turn Westwards back towards the Hudson. As we turn the corner, we see one of the most fascinating parts of New York - the Palisades. These are wild areas just North of the city, that have been protected by donations from some of the areas wealthiest families over the years - the Rockefellers, the Vanderbilts, the Stuyvesants. As a result, they are completely unspoilt - rocky bluffs rising 200m from the shores of the Hudson. It’s quite surreal…
Back on dry land, we pick up the High Line - a park built along the route of an elevated train track. It had been due to open around the time we were last in New York, but had been delayed a little, so we missed it. It’s a fascinating oasis in the middle of one of the busiest cities on the planet. We walk 20 blocks to the south, passing fascinating native flora species. There are art installations, some incredible architecture to take in. At the southern end of the High Line, we take a walk through Greenwich village.
We thoroughly deserve a drink, so stop at a bar called Tavern on Jane (it being on Jane Street). It’s an awesome little place. They have a sensational Chardonnay by the glass, some hugely random barflies, and a bartender called Johnny Pompadour, who regales us with stories of his life working behind New York bars over 5 decades. We plan to stop for one glass of wine, which quickly becomes 4. Acknowledging that we need to eat before anything else happens, we head to an amazing BBQ place called Mighty Quinn’s. The brisket is some of the best I’ve had. The mac and cheese deserves a place in the hall of fame. We congratulate ourselves on a) finding something to eat at our time of greatest need, and b) it being both banging and a bargain.
We head further south into Greenwich Village, passing an utterly random Tardis sticking out of the side of a house. A few doors down, Vicki swoons in front of what was Carrie Bradshaw’s house in Sex and the City. Two blocks further down, we pause outside the apartment block used for exterior shots in Friends. We’re a coin toss between grabbing more drinks, and heading back to our hotel for a ‘rest.’ We opt for the latter, and start raiding the mini-bar, which in our hotel is a fulled sized Smeg fridge full of goodies. Neither of us is particularly hungry after our afternoon’s mighty meat feast. Instead, we hit the lobby bar for a couple of glasses of wine, and play some fairly amateur games of ‘Heads Up.’ We’re both pretty tuckered though, so are in bed and snoozing before 23:00… Czytaj więcej
Day 2 - Easy like a Sunday morning....
5 listopada 2023, Stany Zjednoczone ⋅ ⛅ 13 °C
Mass confusion when we wake up. We’ve both been a bit wakey through the night as our bodies adjust to Eastern Time. At one point, I get up to use the bathroom, check my watch and it’s 02:30. What feels like hours later, I get up to use the bathroom, check my watch, and it’s 02:15. I’m utterly befuddled. It’s only when we’re both awake, that we deduce that daylight savings time ended overnight, and we’ve gained an hour in bed.
Next up, we realise that it’s New York Marathon day. We’ve got a few bits planned for today, but decide we want to weave in some time supporting the runners. We head out in decent time - around 08:30, and stop in at a diner for breakfast. I adore these stereotypical American diners - they’re cheap, fast, and you know exactly what you’re going to get. Sustained, we walk further South, towards Washington Square Park. We spend some time lazing by the fountain, and watch a dance flash-mob type thing do their thing.
We grab a subway up to the Upper East Side and walk a few blocks over to see the Marathon runners. The crowd is raucous in their support. The runners are a little muted compared to our experience of watching their London equivalents. There are certainly no fancy dress costumes on display. Perhaps that’s one of the things that only the ‘crazy Brits’ do…
We have a reservation for a Sunday roast at 13:30, so head back down towards the Lower East Side. We’re a little early, so stop in at a really cool little bar called the Globe for a couple of pre-game sharpeners. Lunch is at the New York outpost of the Hawksmoor chain of steakhouses. We’ve had their beef roast a few times in London, and it’s always been astonishingly good. I have a Shaky Pete’s Ginger Brew (Google if you’re unfamiliar - nectar of the shaky gods). Our roasts are good, but lack in a couple of places. The roast potato game is weak, but the fire roasted beef rump is sensational, and I’d quite like to take the bone marrow and Maderia gravy home to meet my family.
After lunch, we waddle a ways up 5th Avenue, stop for a beer, then head up the Empire State Building. The views are as sensational as we remember them from 2009. We locate the scene of the crime, take some lovely photos, and bank some idyllic memories.
We head to a Chelsea hotel for a couple of wines, but are largely distracted by looking for tickets for Pink’s show tonight at Madison Square Garden. We saw her in Hyde Park in July 2023 and were blown away. We knew she was playing in New York while we were here, but the resale value of tickets was insane - upwards of $1,000 for moderate view seats. We set ourselves a much MUCH more reasonable budget, and said we’d keep an eye as the gig got closer. With doors opening at 18:30, and the support act on at 19:30, we’re disheartened that tickets remain in the stratosphere. Suddenly a pair of tickets becomes available, and we snap them up. Quick refresh, out the door, and we’re over at Madison Square Garden just after 20:00. We catch the final song of the support act.
Pink’s show is immense. Such a performer. The set is largely the same as our Hyde Park experience, but the sound, visuals, performance are all a cut above. It’s simply staggering. The gig finishes at 23:00. We stumble back to our hotel (about a 7 min walk), and fall into bed. It’s been a cracker of a day.
In the battle of Irvines vs Sunday…
IRVINES WIN, IRVINES WIN. Czytaj więcej
Day 1 - Transatlantic
4 listopada 2023, Stany Zjednoczone ⋅ ☁️ 12 °C
New York, New York
It’s been more than 14 years since Vicki and I last visited New York. We had an amazing time on that trip - discovered one of the world’s great megacities, we got engaged, we visited Coney Island, which was closed. After what’s been a pretty tough year, I really wanted to get away for my birthday, and could think of no better place to head to than the Big Apple.
We’re staying at the same hotel we stayed in back in 2009 - Ace Hotel. Back then, it wasn’t even fully open. I’d spotted an online offer for a cheap room in Midtown, but the offer advised that the bar wasn’t open yet, there was no restaurant, breakfast would be a serve yourself affair in the one of the finished bedrooms. As a cost conscious traveller, the opportunity to grab a sub $100 room bang in the middle of Manhattan was too good to pass up. Things have moved on more than a little - Ace Hotel has thrived in the past decade, and our $100 per night budget from 2009 wouldn’t get us through the door these days. Really looking forward to seeing what the place is like in full flight.
There are other things we’ll do again. There’s a great ferry tour around Manhattan called the Circle Line, which is as good a way of getting your bearings in New York as I’ve come across. We’ll head back up the venerable Empire State Building to the 86th floor observation deck where we got engaged (or, as Vicki has already labelled it, “To return to the scene of the crime.”)
There are new experiences waiting for us as well. We barely spent any time in Brooklyn the last time we visited, and yet it has so much history and modern culture to offer. We’ll head up to Harlem, meander around the Upper West Side, and we’ll definitely visit the 9/11 Memorial and Museum, neither of which were completed the last time we were in town.
There are crazy good food options to try. New York is about as multi-cultural a city as I’ve visited - definitely the equal of London. We’re even going for a Sunday Roast. There are some awesome bars we want to hit, and a cool new wave of US wine culture that we want to surf.
More than anything though, we’re just happy to be travelling again.
Day 1
My alarm goes off slightly earlier than is strictly cool, and I’m immediately aware that it’s cold, windy and rainy. The week’s weather leading up to our departure has been atrocious. Storm force winds, torrential rain, floods, power cuts. The winds have happily died down, but the rains persist. Everything is pretty calm. Vicki’s work is not remotely as crazy as it has been at times over the past couple of years, and my work - well, let’s not get into that, as I've been advised throughout my life that it's not nice to brag.
Our driver arrives just before 08:00, and we’re pretty much ready to go. We say goodbye to our beautiful boys, and hit the road. The weather is appalling. We aquaplane through some pretty deep standing water on a couple of occasions. I’m very happy that our driver, Andy, has a Range Rover. Things start to brighten as we approach Heathrow.
The gods of air-miles have smiled on us. We’ve booked our entire trip with Virgin points, including an Upper Class seat on our way to New York. We breeze through the dedicated check in and security building. It takes exactly 26 minutes from leaving our car to settling in to a comfy chair in the Virgin Clubhouse, and deciding whether it’s Champagne or Prosecco, eggs on toast or a bacon roll. The team in the Clubhouse quickly recognise us for what we are - and bring us refills without being asked. Vicks wonders whether we’ll get cut-off at any point. I reply that, as with much in life, as long as you’re not behaving like a dick, you’ll probably be ok. There's even a little outdoor terrace on the roof of the lounge that offers an amazing view of Heathrow's west runway. We’re a little sad to leave our comfy cocoon, but it’s time to fly…
Virgin’s new Upper Class suite on the Airbus A350 is awesome. So comfortable, well thought out. Flight time is around 8 hours, and we spend this variously eating, sleeping and drinking. Both of us sleep so well in fact that we wake up with just 25 minutes to go until landing. JFK is one of those airports that can be a nightmare to navigate through. We’re stunned then, when we arrive to the immigration desks to find the hall completely empty. Couple of minutes later, and we’re waiting for our luggage. Couple of minutes after that, our bags are on the carousel. From plane to cab in less than 30 minutes has gotta be something of record…
Traffic is heavy into the city, but we’re soon heading towards the Midtown/Queens tunnel, with the iconic midtown skyline in front of us - the Empire State, the Rockefeller and Chrysler buildings are all illuminated against the sky’s inky backdrop. We check into the Ace Hotel, and quickly realise that we are probably too old, or not cool enough (or realistically, a bit of a combo of the two…) for this place. There’s a DJ kicking out chunky tribal house in the lobby bar, a healthy cacophony of chatter. We dump (technical term) our stuff into our room, and head out in search of sustenance. We happen upon a cool little restaurant called Bazar, that combines Spanish and Mexican influences with some more traditional American dishes. Delicious. Food takes us down though. We womble back to the hotel, determined to make it to 9pm before we sleep. We briefly think about stopping for a drink in the lobby bar, but realise this is unnecessary. We’re both asleep by 21:30.
ROCK. AND. ROLL. Czytaj więcej
Home please...
16 października 2023, Anglia ⋅ ☁️ 13 °C
We, along with several thousand other rugby fans, are heading out from Marseille. There's a small protest at Saint-Charles station - about what, we know not. The station concourse is heaving, but soon enough we're set up in our carriage for our 5 hour journey to Lille. I find the rhythm of high-speed rail to be incredibly soothing. I can stare with glazed eyes as the countryside rushes past for hours at a time. I use the time to reflect on our trip. I'm not devastated to be leaving Marseille specifically, and France generally. Both of us have been a little thrown by French attitudes towards English travellers over the past few days - so much so that it's taken the gloss off of our travelling experience. I don't know if it's a post-Brexit thing, or perhaps a heightened tension around the World Cup. Either way, it doesn't make us want to return any time soon.
What feels like very quickly, we're arriving into Lille ready for our Eurostar connection back to London. I'll always love the experience of travelling through the Channel Tunnel. I remember so vividly its initiation, construction and opening during my childhood, and it remains an engineering marvel to me to this day.
Arriving back into Brighton, we're delighted to see our two boys - neither of whom seems overly impressed that we're home. Gizmo, it appears, has been in the wars, with a few noticeable scabs on his ear. The photos of them are not mine, but rather are Kristine's - our wonder lady who looks after them while we're away.... Czytaj więcej
Allez Les Blancs!
15 października 2023, Francja ⋅ 🌬 20 °C
We’re both a little groggy after last night’s rosé-fest, but push on, being the brave little soldiers that we are. We’re having lunch out by the coast before heading up to the Stadium for the England vs Fiji game.
Lunch is a delight. The restaurant is on a beautiful little cove. The food is incredible. Grilled mussels to share, then Bouille a Baisse for me - the local fish soup/stew delicacy, and a stunning piece of seabass for Vicki. We manage a bottle of rosé between us. We take a bracing walk up the coast for a couple of miles to walk off our lunch, and stop for a couple of sharpeners in the sunshine.
Arriving at the stadium around 75 minutes before kick-off, it feels different to yesterday. There’s certainly more noise, more tension. There are much longer queues for security. As we stop to have our bags searched, things start to worsen. We’re both told we have items that are forbidden (but which we were both allowed to bring into the stadium yesterday, and which are not mentioned on our tickets as being verboten). The guards start to get incredibly aggressive towards both of us. Vicki fears we are about to get dragged away - to where, we don’t really know. Ultimately, we’re able to leave our forbidden items (an empty reusable water bottle and a power bank since you ask) at a left luggage station, and can pick them up after the game. It’s a minor inconvenience in truth, but the way it’s been handled has left both us feeling pissed off, and shaken.
Inside the stadium, the atmosphere is more tense as well. The majority of the crowd are French, and supporting Fiji. There’s an incredibly strong anti-English sentiment which we both realise we find uncomfortable. It’s not the same as the colloquial and bantsy game day experience we’re used to. We’ve sat in the stands surrounded by Kiwis, South Africans, Scots before when they’re playing England, and never felt this same terseness. This feels like real enmity. We’d been planning to find a French bar to watch this evening’s France/South Africa game and to support France, but no - Fuck the French. Vive L’Afrique Du Sud.
The England vs Fiji game is a great, if stressful watch. England appear to be in control at 24-10, before Fiji come flying back to make it 24-24 with 10 minutes to go. The final score of 30-24 in England’s favour feels a fair result. I doubt the performance is keeping any of the other remaining teams awake at night though. Still - a World Cup semi-final when we really didn’t think we’d even make it out of the group stage is a decent result.
After the game, it’s the usual scrum to find transport back to the city centre. We manage to nab a couple of seats on a bus, and we’re soon heading back to our apartment for the 21:00 kick-off. The France game is incredibly tight. Given our newfound Fuck the French mentality, it’s beyond delicious to see them lose their home World Cup at the quarter final stage by a single point. Czytaj więcej
Time for some rugby...
14 października 2023, Francja ⋅ ⛅ 25 °C
We wake in decent time. Our first game is later today, so we’re having a chilled morning before heading out for some lunch. We go to a fab little bistro in the old quarter of town. I have a stunning piece of tuna tataki. We share an awesome bottle of Provencale rosé. We have a little wander around the Vieux Port district to work out where to watch the Ireland / New Zealand game this evening.
We jump on a bus that claims to take us to the stadium, which is a few kilometres away from the city centre. As we’re waiting for the bus to depart, we see an altercation between some Welsh fans, and some local kids. Within seconds, as many as 20 Gendarmes are on the scene. It looks like arrests are being made. A little heavy handed perhaps, but it’s impressive to see how quickly the police responded to the incident.
The bus is PACKED, and we’re actually pretty delighted to get off to walk the last kilometre to the stadium. The bars along the street are heaving - with Welsh and Argentinian fans, with locals, with England fans. It feels positively multi-cultural. We manage not to lose each other, and we make it through security at the ground pretty quickly. Earlier games in the tournament in Marseille were reported as pretty chaotic, but the security team are polite, engaged and of good cheer.
Inside the stadium, we’re a little (lot) disappointed to find the only boozing option is Asahi lager. French stadiums don’t usually allow any alcohol to be sold, so the availability of ‘an’ option is a compromise. Clearly, the organisers wanted to keep things as simple as possible. We find our seats, and settle in for the game. We’re a little taken aback by the behaviour of some of the Argentinian fans around us. There’s a guy behind us who I think is going to have a coronary, so over-excited does he become. There’s another a few rows in front of us who amuses himself by spitting on Welsh fans as they climb up the stairs. It’s not attractive to see - so much so that we decide to head off at half time, to make sure we get a decent seat / view for the NZ vs Ireland game in the Vieux Port.
We’ve got a couple of hours until the game kicks-off, and it’s just possible that we go a bit hard at the rosé. We befriend some people, swoop into to grab seats from others, and find ourselves standing next to New Zealand rugby royalty - Kevin Mealamu. The game is enthralling - several grades more intense than the Wales/Argentina effort earlier in the day. By half-time, we’re both flagging, so head back to our apartment to watch the second half. By the end of the game, Vicks is fast asleep on the sofa, and I decide it’s probably time to call it a night. Czytaj więcej
Marseille - Magnifique!
13 października 2023, Francja ⋅ ☀️ 25 °C
We both sleep brilliantly. Vicks (unsurprisingly) a little more brilliantly than I - but I'm not complaining. We spend the morning mooching around our apartment. It's a fab, if slightly strange, place. The building (I think) is from the Belle Epoque era (late Victorian to UKers...) and is decorated in a fitting style. 12 foot high ceilings, and lots of tall windows. V cool. Oh, but the smallest toilet I think I've ever seen.
We head out for a wander and to find some lunch shortly after midday. Rugby fans are a lot more evident on the streets of Marseille today - mainly Welsh, but a smattering of England, Ireland and Scotland fans in between. We even spot an Argentina fan at one point, but I suspect they'll be heavily outnumbered by Welsh fans for their Saturday quarter final. We park ourselves at an incredibly French bistro with an outdoor terrace on a square, and pass the time with a bottle of Rosé and some typical Provencale cuisine. We realise we're sat next to Welsh rugby legend, Scott Quinnell. Such is the way of things.
We have a wander around the Old Port neighbourhood, passing by a few pubs that are clearly engineered towards rugby fans and/or Brits/Celts. The 'Queen Victoria' pub is heaving at 2pm. The 'Temple Bar' similarly packed. There are 4 quarter finals taking place in the Rugby World Cup this weekend. We have tickets for the two games in Marseille on Saturday and Sunday at 5pm. There are then 2 games each day in Paris at 9pm. We'll head back to these pubs to watch the evening games amongst like-minded rugby fans.
We head back to our apartment, which is a short 15 min walk from the harbour, to clean up, rest etc etc. I manage to squeeze in a short nap. We head out for our dinner reservation down by the harbour. The food is sensational, and I have one of the best octopus dishes I can ever remember having. We amble around town, attempting to walk off our dinner, before finding (yet) another bistro with terrace to enjoy a couple of glasses of Provencale Rosé. These street-side terraces are amazing for people watching, and we while away an hour watching the world go by... Czytaj więcej
Tim's Travels
Grilled octopus with Camargue rice and chive cream - stunning....
Train day!
12 października 2023, Francja ⋅ ☀️ 24 °C
An early start. Brighton to Marseille by train is probably the limit of how far I'd try and travel by rail in a single day. It's doable, but it's a trek. Vicki has had 4 and a bit hours sleep, while I'm a little better off with 6. Fairly bleary eyed, we board a commuter train from Brighton at 07:44 that should get us to St Pancras to pick up our Eurostar connection in plenty of time. It feels a little strange to be leaving Brighton on a train that doesn't include a train beer.
30 minutes into our journey, we learn of an unexplained 'serious incident' somewhere further up the line, that means our train will unexpectedly terminate at Three Bridges. We are given no information about other train services, the likelihood of the length of delay etc etc. We start looking for information, I briefly consider booking us a flight out of Gatwick.
We discover from a fellow passenger that someone has been struck by a train near Cambridge, and has tragically died. We're both struck by how quickly we process this sad news, before returning to the immediate task of planning our onward travel. As the interruption is near Cambridge, we're able to join a slow, stopping train that gets us to St Pancras with only a 20 minute delay.
Happily, this gives us time to pop to Searcy's for a pre-match sharpener, before we check-in for our Eurostar train. Soon enough, we've hurtled through the Kent countryside, and are into the tunnel. Vicki is napping. It's a very civilised way to travel...
We quickly arrive into Lille, where we'll change for a direct train to Marseille. Vicki snoozes for a while, I watch a movie. At one point, some heavy handed customs officers board the train - for what, we know not. They are shortly followed by three heavily armed police officers. Curiouser and curiouser. A woman near our seats has laid a full size bed sheet over her seat, turning it into some kind of pseudo-shrine. It's all very entertaining. We see large swathes of the French countryside - the agricultural North, the rocky escarpments and vineyards of Burgundy, and the heavily forested Park Morvan. Vicki is less than impressed by this last one ("Yet more trees") when she wakes from one of her regular naps.
Our train is a little late into Marseille, but not catastrophically so. After a quick march to our apartment, we head out in search of food - and stumble (operative word) across a brilliant little wine bar / wine shop / café, that rewards us with a fabulous bottle of Alsatian wine, and a charcuterie/cheese plate for the ages. Salami, Figatelli, Andouillette, along with a punchy country style Paté, and several brilliant local cheeses.
Despite the relatively early hour, we're both pretty knackered, so head back to our apartment looking forward to a long sleep. Czytaj więcej
Jeffs!
26 stycznia 2023, Antigua i Barbuda ⋅ 🌙 24 °C
I've been sparing you the 'another day - still awesome!' updates, as no one needs that.
Thursday though, we spend our day exploring the Eastern side of the island. We head initially to Laviscount Island - a new venue that's opened in the past year. It feels a little like a work in progress, but the attractions more than make up for it. We spend a delightful half hour communing with Aldabra Giant Tortoises. These awesome dudes were rescued from a Pacific island, and many have scars and deformities. They're similar in size to the much more famous Galapagos tortoises - some growing to as much as 250kg, and 1.3m tip to tail. In a staggering piece of good fortune, we learn that the biggest and oldest tortoise on the island is called Jeffrey. (For those unaware, I've called all tortoises, turtles and terrapins 'Jeff' for as long as I can remember...)
Our wonderful guide, Shea, provides us with carrots to feed them, and we walk amongst these breathtakingly beautiful beasts for a while. Trust me when I tell you they move quicker than you'd think, particularly when food is on offer. Their shells contain lots of nerve endings, so they enjoy being rubbed and stroked. When they're REALLY happy, they extend their necks further out of their shells, and invite you to stroke their necks. We are spellbound.
We then go and meet some indigenous Red-Footed tortoises, that can be found across the Caribbean and South America. Much smaller, but with vivid red colourings. We get to hold some teeny babies. Both of us expect to be shat on, but our new friends are much better behaved than we give them credit for.
Next, we meet some birds. Beautifully coloured Macaws, noisy little Lovebirds, and Vicki spends some time with a cockatoo. We also meet some Antillean Iguanas, again - indigenous to Antigua. One pair are chilling in their tree. The other pair, well - I'm not sure there's a polite way of saying this, are in the midst of some frenetic sexual activity, all whilst eating some tasty hibiscus leaves.
Shea takes us for a walk around the tiny island, pointing out some of the local fauna. Our visit to Laviscount is a brilliant way to spend a couple of hours.
We head over to Half Moon Bay, one of the loveliest of Antigua's many (some claim 365...) beaches. It's half past beer o'clock, so we park ourselves at the Beach Bum Café with a well deserved Carib, and watch the world go by for a while... From here, we head down into English Harbour, and have a fabulous lunch at Boom. Rubbish name, great restaurant. It overlooks Nelson's Dockyard, and the astonishing super-yachts that moor there.
We arrive back to the Escape around 15:00. I have an urgent nap, and join Vicki at the bar for sundowners. It's been a terribly tiring day, and we head back to our room to bed shortly after 22:00... Czytaj więcej
We have misplaced the calypso window.
23 stycznia 2023, Antigua i Barbuda ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C
I wake early. 05:45 or thereabouts. Little bit of jet lag I think. Vicki purrs quietly next to me, so I go and sit outside on our terrace. It's still dark - dawn is a good half hour away, and the sky is just beginning to grey up where the sun is on its way...
I write and read for a couple of hours, and then realise I'm being eaten alive. Mozzies everywhere. I figure 10 hours is enough sleep for Vicki, so head back into our room. She stirs.
We're planning a day of doing absolutely fuck all. A late breakfast, and suddenly the bar is open (10:00 since you ask). We have a beer each, followed by another. Somehow I end up drinking wine before 11am, while Vicki makes the sensationally sensible move into Vodka.
The clouds build, and we have a couple of short, sharp rain showers. The calypso window is missing in action. We befriend some people, and prop up the bar for most of the afternoon. By sunset, the clouds have largely shifted, and the view across the bay is stunning.
If you ask me what I had for dinner, I'm not sure I'd be able to tell you. We collapse into bed around 21:00, and moments later are asleep.
This is our Caribbean lifestyle, and I adore it. Czytaj więcej
I AM serious, and don't call me Shirley.
22 stycznia 2023, Antigua i Barbuda ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C
We wake a little before 08:30. Probably around the time our taxi was booked to pick us up yesterday actually. We've both slept the sleep of the righteous - deservedly or not. Suitably refreshed, we grab a late breakfast, and almost immediately follow it up with a Carib, a Trinidadian beer that's found throughout the Caribbean. I comment to Vicks that it's really only on trips like this that I still drink lager. There's something about the combination of tropical sun/heat and ice-cold, crisp pilsner that works brilliantly together. That - and the total lack of other beer based alternatives, obvs.
We repair to our room as the sun is beginning to toast our alabaster skin, and are able to reflect in daylight how beautiful it is. The star turn is the terrace, with an open-air bath, and a plunge pool that looks out over the beautiful, tropical gardens of the hotel. I decide to take a dip. It transpires 'plunge pool' in the local dialect means 'fucking freezing.' It certainly stimulates the pink bits.
It's quickly time for some lunch and some wine, and then to head off to Shirley Heights, the social Sunday focal point on the island. An amazing steel band, a big barbeque cook-out, rum punch so strong it would be illegal in most countries, and a band. Oh, and all accompanied by a stunning view of the sunset, and down to English Harbour. It's one of our very happiest places.
This is the first time we've travelled to Antigua in January, all of our previous trips having been in May. It's demonstrably busier at Shirley Heights than we've seen it before. By 18:00, the bar queues are something to behold. We switch our boozing strategy to a bottle of wine in place of individual rum punches, as it stretches the time required between bar visits. The steel band build to a frenetic finish - every time we see them, they amaze me.
Our eating strategy has been less successful. We're heading back to the hotel for dinner later, but Vicki is rapidly becoming hangry. The queue for the BBQ is massive, so we concoct a variety of frankly idiotic schemes to feed her - ranging from distracting someone while we steal their plate of food, to begging one of the BBQ chefs for a bread roll. A bottle of Rosé seems to do the job temporarily, and all too soon we're back in our bus back to Escape.
Dinner is a delicious, if slightly hazy affair. We're tucked up in bed once again by 22:00.
ROCK. AND. ROLL. Czytaj więcej
No, it's DEFINITELY in half an hour...
21 stycznia 2023, Antigua i Barbuda ⋅ 🌙 24 °C
We get off to a less than auspicious start. A few minutes before 08:00, the doorbell rings. Answering it in my PJs, I'm met by a smiling and besuited taxi driver, Neil. Time for taxi Sir! No, no, no my good man. Half past eight is what you want to aim for, for that's the time for which I booked it. I'm pretty sure it's 08:00 Sir! No - it's DEFINITELY in half an hour. We'll be out soon...
Secure in the knowledge that I am correct, I pad back into the house, check my email booking, and wince with embarrassment. I'm an idiot. I explain our situation to Vicki, who confirms I am an idiot. I send Neil a text to let him know that I am an idiot. Our calm and serene progress towards our 08:30 departure becomes a slightly more frantic rush to try and save Neil's morning. He, it transpires, is meeting another customer at Heathrow, and is on a bit of a timetable... We manage to make it out shortly after 08:15. I am apoplectically apologetic.
Still - we get to the airport a little earlier than we had planned, so there's that.
Terminal 3 is, well - Terminal 3. It's not a great place to spend time. There's a decent bar though. A Bloody Mary and several ciders later (Chardonnay for my beloved), we're suitably lubricated for our flight.
It's strangely rare for me to have a window seat. I take many photos and several videos. Vicki accuses me of behaving like a child who has never flown before. I interpret this as meaning that I am excitable, which I am.
Neither of us is disastrously low on sleep of late, so we're both awake for the vast majority of the flight. The Virgin cabin crew are their usual wonderful selves. Their casual and friendly style isn't to everyone's tastes, but it's very much to ours. The 8+ hour flight passes quickly, and we're soon banking into a landing pattern over Antigua. It's always a huge treat to spend time in the stunning surrounds of the Caribbean, but Antigua holds an incredibly special place in our hearts, as it's where we married in 2010.
We're staying at a new resort this time around - Escape at Nonsuch Bay. It's owned by the same people that run Cocobay - where we married, and has a very similar style and philosophy. After a quick transfer, we arrive at Escape to be welcomed by a very warm and friendly team, and a lethally strong rum punch.
Check in is perhaps a little more complex than it needs to be, and not particularly helped by Vicki's attempt to kneecap herself on a table. Neither of us has data roaming for this trip, and a connection is required to check in on our phones. Andre is very patient with us, and we are very patient with him. At one point Vicks states that things were much simpler when we used pen and paper. Finally, our technology issues are resolved, we head to our room for a quick look, and grab some dinner - crab cakes for us both, jerk chicken for Vicks and shrimp and pineapple curry for me. Delish.
We manage a couple of drinks after dinner, but fatigue quickly catches up with us. 22:00 locally is 02:00 in the UK, and we're ready for bed. Czytaj więcej
Home. Meh. Ruminations + reflections...
16 października 2022, Anglia ⋅ 🌧 15 °C
We all manage to get a half-decent sleep on the flight, and Vicki demands some bubbles before we land. We're into our cab by 17:30, and home just before 19:00. The boys are somewhat happy to see us - a little bit skittish, but they settle quickly.
So, some reflections, thoughts etc etc.
1) We've had an awesome trip. Vegas was, well - Vegas. Northern California is a lovely part of the world to spend time in.
2) Road-trips are tough. I think if we head off on another similar trip, I'll plan on a maximum of 5 hours per day in the car. The first day was brutal, and at times a little scary! Ant and I wanna do a road-trip through the deep South for our 50ths in a few years' time, so some helpful lessons learnt.
3) I love the US, and particularly the West coast part of it. Folks are lovely without being folksy, the scenery is some of the most breathtaking I've ever seen, and the cities are great. It's wickedly expensive right now (thanks Liz Truss...), with basic drinks regularly costing £10 or thereabouts. It's still possible to eat and drink on a bit of a budget, but you've just gotta work a bit harder to do it.
4) We thought of several things that the US demonstrably does better than the UK. In no particular order:
a) Hash browns.
b) Pocket packets of tissues
c) Happy hours
d) Back roads
e) The cooking of bacon
f) Turn-outs on single lane roads
g) Sports bars
h) Gas stations (the stock of the attached shop, and the ability to pin the nozzle open, so you don't have to hold it to fill up).
5) San Francisco has gone straight into my top few cities in the world. Since you ask, the others are Cape Town, Amsterdam, Melbourne, Barcelona. London is not in the top 10.
6) I need another holiday. (Antigua, January. Tenterhooks, obviously). Czytaj więcej
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