Monday, 28 October 2013

Monday photo - 28th October

We'd climbed up a series of steep steps to a viewing platform, saw the many moss green mounds stretching into the distance. Hot and sweaty, we found a quieter patch not filled with other tourists, all here to see the same marvel - the much advertised 'chocolate hills' of Bohol.

"Hummm...I think we may have come during the wrong season to see them in their full glory."

"Wait, I think I spot a brown one...see, just past the first two, on the right."

"Got it. Success - we've seen a chocolate hill! The others are still pretty impressive too though."

"Isn't that always the way? Even when something isn't exactly as we imagined it, it's still new and exciting."

"And that is why we travel."

Monday, 21 October 2013

Monday photo - 21st October

The Petronas Towers are the classic picture of modern Kuala Lumpa - shimmering in the darkness, they make for a truly impressive sight, bright white illuminating the surrounding area and reaching up like beacons into the night sky.

Monday, 14 October 2013

Monday photo - 14th October

This week's 'Monday photo' comes from Antigua, a picturesque colonial town which serves as the perfect base for day trips and activities in Guatemala. Even if you do not want to venture too far, wandering the streets is hugely enjoyable in itself - the buildings are colourful and richly detailed, like this pale yellow church. 

Monday, 7 October 2013

Monday photo - 7th October

When I visited Kenya a number of years ago, there were a few animals I was particularly hoping to glimpse lurking in the bush or in the depths of the lakes. High up on my list were hippos - these huge, deadly creatures who at the same time are so graceful and beautiful in their watery environment. We were fortunate enough to see one on land early one morning, but the real highlight was a small boat trip where they surrounded us in large groups, eyes and ears alert.

Saturday, 5 October 2013

An evening at the Eurovision Song Contest


One of my earliest memories. Piled into the living room, around our tiny TV. The rare chance to stay up late. The bright colours, elaborate displays and volume up high, occasional comments interrupting the music.

"I like this one - it's quite catchy"

"Too boring - it'll never win"

Sounds of shushing across the room. "I'm trying to listen...".

Finally, hours later and somewhere halfway between dreams and reality, the announcement made and everyone discussing if it was the 'right' choice, we'd move sluggishly up to bed, our favourite song still running through our heads.

The Eurovision Song Contest was always an important yearly event in our house growing up. No matter what else was happening in our lives, we all eagerly anticipated the evening for weeks beforehand. One year, a cry of outrage as our street experienced a power cut halfway through GB's entry. Another saw us laughing until our sides hurt as yet another bizarre German entry hung from scaffolding like a monkey. The outrage of the political voting, finally understood sometime during my early teenage years, eventually falling into humorous acceptance - it doesn't matter if we never win, think about the millions of people all watching the same event at the same time.

For those living outside of Europe, it must seem a bizarre throwback to days long gone. Countries entering some of their best, or possibly worst, but always entertaining, acts for an evening of entertainment. There are those who loathe the whole event - the huge amount of money it costs to host (or even enter), heavily subsidised by the original founding nations. Cringe-worthy singing and a distinctly euro-pop vibe. For the past couple of years there have been calls to end the tradition, mostly connected with the financial crisis - should countries be spending sums of money on such frivolity? I understand all the arguments and why some nations have made the decision to pull out. Personally, I would be sad to see it go. Millions still switch on their TVs to watch the contest, and thousands gather each year in the host country to witness the extravaganza.

This year, I was one of them.

I'd been toying with the idea of booking tickets for a number of years, but just hadn't been able to pull the trigger. Could I justify a trip abroad just for one event? Could I even fit it into a weekend? Finally, the stars aligned and when Malmo in Sweden was announced as the next host city, I couldn't say no. Copenhagen, just a 45 minute train ride from the stadium, was a short and cheap flight away, and I could combine an evening at the concert with exploring a new city. After our day basking under the warm sun, we changed and hopped on a train, packed with hundreds of other revellers.

I knew it was going to be a good night when our carriage filled up with men dressed in wedding dresses and people wrapped in their country's flag, tied like capes - an odd assortment of superheroes. As we stepped onto the platform in Malmo, I felt distinctly under dressed as the crowds swelled around us, a sea of colour and noise. The atmosphere was incredible - more jubilant and excited than any other concert I've ever attended. Strangers were singing and hugging in the queue, sharing distances travelled and fond memories of past events. We joined in, chatting to those sitting around us and swapping cameras to take photos.

The show itself was everything I'd hoped for, the winning act thoroughly deserving of the prize. It's odd - neither F or I are fans of the typical type of music performed, and I'm as far from extroverted as it is possible to get. Yet there is something special about Eurovision - something that was born during my childhood and has never left. Whatever it is, it leaves a smile on my face every time.

We're considering going back again next year...


Thursday, 3 October 2013

A spring day in Copenhagen

When we touched down in Denmark in the middle of May for a weekend break, I was prepared for the worst. The rain had barely ceased in the UK for weeks, with low temperatures to match, and although I'd packed my umbrella, I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that I'd miss the beautiful gardens and parks in full bloom, set against a blue sky.

I needn't have worried. Despite being only a couple of hours from home, Copenhagen was in the middle of a short heatwave, with temperatures soaring and my umbrella happily made redundant. After peeling off my many layers, we set out to explore.

With no fixed plan in place, we wandered along the canals, stopping to marvel at the sand sculpture competition taking place and seeking out the source of loud, thumping music, which led us straight in the middle of a carnival. Disentangling ourselves from the crowds of onlookers, we made our way to a quieter street, where pastel townhouses overlooked the glittering blue of the water and we could cool down with a few scoops of ice-cream.

Filled with parks, gardens and pretty house-lined canals, Copenhagen is a gorgeous city with lots to see, much of it for free. Of course, one of the biggest draws is also, size-wise, one of the smallest - the famous statue of 'The Little Mermaid', inspired by Hans Christian Anderson's tale. The mermaid, being of an easily transportable size, is notoriously a kleptomaniac's dream, and over the years it has been stolen, moved and vandalised. It's hit or miss whether she will actually be there during a visit.

Luckily, when we arrived at her home by the waterside (conveniently situated close to the cruise ship docks), she sat proudly staring across the water, hot sun glancing off her bronze body and tail. I'd come expecting her to be small and surrounded by eager tourists desperate for a photo, but was still impressed - I'd grown up loving the Anderson fairy tales and the mermaid seemed a physical representation of that beloved part of my childhood. Even the obnoxious man shoving children out of the way to clamber up rocks and pose for a seemingly endless set of photos couldn't destroy my mood (although I did suggest, perhaps rather loudly, that maybe it was time to give someone else the chance to have their picture taken...)

After hours just wandering the city, drinking in the atmosphere and the sights, it was time to head back to our hotel to change and excitedly head out once more for the main reason we'd chosen Copenhagen for this short break...


Dubrovnik: Do's and Don'ts!

So... it's been a few months since I've published a blog post (in fact, I couldn't believe how long when I checked the date of my last post!). A combination of factors have kept me away from blogging recently, but I'm finally getting back on track and ready to catch up. I've been on a few trips over the past months which I intend to share over the coming weeks, so let's get started!

Continuing on where I left off, it's time for the ever-present tips and advice for visiting the gorgeous city of Dubrovnik. Easily done in a couple of packed days, but better explored over a leisurely week or so, it's high on my list of places to return to one day.


- Spend a day walking the walls. Boasting the best views over the city and the surrounding sea, these imposing barriers separating the old town from the rest of Dubrovnik are the perfect way to lose a few hours. Dedicate enough time to complete the full circuit, and be prepared - the climb can be a little tough for the unfit.

- Indulge in some of the delicious gelato to be found dotted around the city - a perfect way to cool off after a hot day of exploring!

- Look out for special events taking place during your visit. Whilst we were there, we attended a beautiful concert in a tiny church, and a couple of limited-time museum exhibitions. The tourist information office has plenty of ideas and programs of events, although there are also placards and posters on boards around the old town.

- Choose your dates wisely. We visited in spring, which whilst unpredictable in terms of weather, was quieter and more peaceful. The summer months will guarantee you the (hot!) sun, but also the heaving crowds, and although winter is quietest of all, be prepared for a number of tourist facilities to have closed for the low season.


- Limit yourself to pizza and pasta for dinners. It's easy to be tempted by the cheaper, numerous Italian restaurants along and beside the main streets. However, there are many alternate choices hidden down side alleys which are worth seeking out, and the seafood along the harbour, although pricier, is worth a splurge.

- Underestimate how challenging exploring the Old Town can be. With steep stone staircases surrounding the central streets, there is no way of fully seeing everything the city has to offer without a bit of climbing.

- Think that Dubrovnik doesn't have much to offer. As well as its incredible beauty, the city is historically rich and also at the centre of a rapidly developing country in terms of tourism. Go now before everyone else does!