Final Day in Argentina – A Letter


Today was our last day. We paid for a tour out of the city, booked through the hotel with ‘Signature Tours’ (www.signaturetours.com.ar) – it was brilliant. We wanted to see La pampas, the cattle rearing plains of Argentina. As it’s ‘low season’ it was just the two of us and a man in his car. He drove us out of the city, explaining things about the buildings as we passed them, so we started to understand a little more about Argentina. He then took us to a town and a ranch, introducing us to various people and showing us different places. It was all very friendly, it felt more like an acquaintance introducing us to his friends than a paid tour guide. It was also nice because, unlike on other tours we have done, we weren’t taken somewhere random (like a jade factory) and then left in awkward silence while the owner waits for us to buy something that we don’t really want. This guide didn’t even take us into the shop part of the places we visited, he wanted to show us things, not sell us things.

As we left Buenos Aires, we passed some poorer areas, they looked like the favelas we saw in Brazil, though maybe not quite as poor. Marcello told us that they were mostly occupied by immigrants from Peru, Paraguay, Chile. He said they work hard, often in construction, and are gradually moving to different areas. I asked if the homeless people that we saw on the streets were also immigrants, but he said that no, they were probably Argentinians. Economics are very hard here, due to the very high inflation. Everyone is hopeful that the newly elected government can turn things around in the next couple of years.

Marcello also told us about the gauchos that we’d be seeing. They are mainly men who work with cattle. They wear either hats (cowboy hats) or berets. The ranches, which are called “estancia” breed cattle, plus horses for working, polo and racing.

We went to the little town of San Antonio Areco. My favourite bit was the gaucho bars, I felt like I had walked into a cowboy film. The are still used today, though they’ve preserved the historical features. There was a post outside, for tying up the horses. Inside, the walls were shelved to the ceiling and full of ancient bottles of liquor, soap, shoes, tins of tea – all the things that the gauchos would have come into town to buy. The counter used to have bars all along it, with little windows for the drinks to be passed through, a bit like the railings or glass screens that you get in banks and post-offices today. This was to protect the staff and stock from the rowdy gauchos in an age when alcohol was more expensive. Is this where the term ‘bar’ originates from? (Tell me if you know!) The floors were tiled, there were ceiling fans and even an old fashioned til. You could so imagine a cowboy walking in and shooting all the bottles.

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We also saw silver smiths at work. They make lots of horse related things – cups for polo matches, silver versions of the things that gauchos carry, horse ornaments. The gauchos carry knives (you can buy them in silver sheaves) and boleadoras. These were originally stones, wrapped in leather at the end of ropes. The gauchos would throw them, lasso style, at the legs of ostriches, to catch them. You can now buy silver versions, the stones in leather replaced with ornate silver balls. The work with silver was an incredibly slow, careful process. The designs were beautiful, real works of art. You would have to be both very artistic and very patient to do their job.

We saw a cheese and meat shop. The locals go there after work, for a platter of nibbles and a drink and chat (there were tables at the back.)

We saw a chocolate shop. They make the chocolate themselves from cacao, so we saw the beans and husks – which were much bigger than I expected, almost the size of coconuts. The bean is inside and they heat it first, to separate the cacao and the butter (which is white, but hard – more like chalk than butter.) They then add milk and sugar to make the chocolate. I would’ve liked to watch the process with the bean, but we weren’t taken to see that bit, we could only watch them work with the melted chocolate, through a glass panel.

IMG_4319 A traditional drink in Argentina, called ‘mate’ (pronounced ‘mah-tae’). The straws have a filter and people walk around drinking it. It’s a herb, like a bitter tea.

 

 

 

 

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The silversmith’s work bench and the cheese shop

IMG_4322 A cacao bean next to the husk.

 

 

 

 

 

We then went to the ranch. This letter is getting a bit long, plus I want to tell you a little about the past in Argentina, the regimes and “The Disappeared”, so I’ll finish now and write again tomorrow.

Take care,
Anne x

 

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A Day in Uruguay – A Letter to my Sister


Hi, how are you today? Yesterday we went to Uruguay for the day (as you do…)

We bought the boat tickets online, which was a bit confusing as we knew there were two boats – one which takes an hour and one which takes three hours – but the timetable and prices didn’t seem to correspond. Our Spanish was only almost good enough. Managed it eventually. We paid the equivalent of £75 each for day return tickets.

Walked to the boat terminal through a freezing cold city. I wish I’d packed my big coat. We went through passport control and immigration, then sat in a large waiting room for an hour. I now have extra stamps in my passport. At one window the Argentinian official gave the exit stamp, then you shuffle along to the next window, where an Uruguayan official gives you an entry stamp. Kinda cool.

The ferry was clean and comfortable. I needed to use the loo on board and was expecting the usual stinky boat toilet, but it was spotless, very clean. The gang plank in Uruguay was a bit of a challenge for some of the elderly passengers, so Husband did his gentleman bit and helped a few old ladies (while I stood ready with my camera in case they fell in the water. No, not really!)

We walked straight out the ferry terminal, turned right at the first cross roads, walked about ten minutes and arrived in the old town. Very easy, despite Husband telling me that none of the road names matched his map. (There were signs showing the way, we didn’t need a map.)

The old town was brilliant, it felt like being in the Caribbean (but a lot colder. May is Winter.) There was water lapping on the shore, lots of greenery, cobbled streets, old buildings. Perfect.

We sat in a street cafe in Colonia and drank cappuccinos sprinkled with cinnamon. Music from the shop next door, dappled sunlight through the trees, vintage cars driving past. Double perfect.

There were also lots of stray dogs. Not so perfect. But they seemed mostly well fed and healthy, so we avoided them in case they were rabid, but they weren’t threatening.

The vintage cars seem to mainly advertise the buildings they are parked outside. There were lots of them. Colonia is a world heritage site, so I’m not sure what was ‘real’ and what was for tourists. It was nice though, and very peaceful.

There was an old church, with white-washed stone walls, icons and echoes. Outside was a square with ruins, noisy birds in the palm trees, sunshine and the ever constant sound of waves lapping. Everywhere smells of wood charcoal.

We ate lunch in a little Bistro facing the water. There were signs up saying you should book ahead, I think it gets very busy here at weekends and in the summer. It was very clean and the food was nice:

Charco, Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay. (info@charcohotel.com)

The prices here are all in Uruguayan Pesos, Argentinian Pesos and US dollars. Or you can pay with credit cards. I wasn’t sure if the language was Spanish or Portuguese (it’s Spanish) but as both sound exactly the same when I speak them, it didn’t make too much difference. Most people spoke at least a little English, some were fluent.

The girl who served us in the cafe was completely fluent in English, she could calculate prices in three different currencies, she was well presented and clearly intelligent. Plus, the cleanliness of the country is much better than England. It was the same when we went to Brazil; I expected small rural cafes and public toilets to have slightly dodgy hygiene, but they were always scrupulously clean. Public toilets in England are usually disgusting. I think travel is good for me, it challenges my preconceived ideas. The world is smaller than I think, lots of countries do things better than we do.

We strolled some more. I loved being near the coast. Lots of green plant and seed pods had washed ashore, so we argued for a while as to if it was sea weed or not. Never found out. (If you know, tell me!)

Looked in a couple of gift shops and I bought a cushion cover for my collection. It’s made of cow hide, which seemed very appropriate as they raise a lot of cows in Uruguay, on the plains that join Argentina.

Got the ferry back to Argentina. A really lovely day, one of the nicest trips we’ve had. If ever you come here, you should definitely plan to go to Uruguay. You would love it, it’s so pretty, sort of lost in time. Tomorrow we might visit La Pampas, which is the grass plains in Argentina, where the cowboys are. I’ll let you know.

Hope your week is going well.
Take care,
Love, Anne x

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If you enjoyed this, you will love my new book: The Sarcastic Mother’s Holiday Diary.
I have always written a diary on holiday, so last Christmas, I decided to find all my old diaries and blogs, and make a book for my children. However, several other people also asked for a copy, so I have written a public version – it’s available on Amazon and has been described as “The Durrells meet Bill Bryson”!

Why not buy a copy today? I think it will make you laugh.

The US link is here:

https://www.amazon.com/Sarcastic-Mothers-Holiday-Diary-ebook/dp/B07N95281F/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1549015525&sr=8-1&keywords=the+sarcastic+mothers+holiday+diary

The India link is here:

https://www.amazon.in/Sarcastic-Mothers-Holiday-Diary-ebook/dp/B07N95281F/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1549015429&sr=8-1&keywords=the+sarcastic+mothers+holiday+diary

The UK link is here:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Sarcastic-Mothers-Holiday-Diary-ebook/dp/B07N95281F/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1549014970&sr=8-2&keywords=the+sarcastic+mothers+holiday+diary

 

Another day in Argentina : Letter to a Sister


Went to La Recoleta. This is mainly a large cemetery, which is not a place I would usually visit but it featured in all the guide books and was recommended by our taxi driver. We walked there from the hotel. Passed a few people sleeping in the street, whole families in some cases, which is never a comfortable experience. The only other place that I have passed homeless children is Mumbai.

Found La Recoleta, in the middle of a park with market stalls. Was glad the family weren’t with me to complain about me liking spooky places and not being ‘normal’. I thought of you – you would’ve have spent hours taking photographs at strange angles with clever close-ups. I just snapped a few pictures, none of which really captured the atmosphere.

The cemetery is huge, like a small village of monuments and booths. Some had steps leading down, littered with soiled bags, empty bottles, coated in dust and cobwebs. Some had coffins stacked in view of the doorway covered in white lace cloths. Some coffins were crumbling, threatening to spill their contents, others were pristine, polished oak with shiny fixtures. The booths were white marble, grey granite, weathered stone and black steel gates. There were lots of statues and angels and domes. A little like miniature cathedrals, with the dead being worshipped rather than God.

It was a little incongruous, after passing families of homeless people. I am a tourist here, I don’t know what help is available, but at a glance it looked as if the dead have better shelter than the poor.

We saw the tomb where Evita is buried, and several other dignitaries, then we left.

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Went to La Biela, a traditional coffee house just outside the cemetery, opposite a giant ancient gum tree. It had a motor racing theme due to being a favourite spot in the 1950’s for drivers and fans. There was memorabilia on the walls and spanners carved into the chair backs. It had a lovely traditional Argentinian feel, we could’ve stayed there for hours.

We drank coffee sprinkled with cinnamon, which tasted almost of oregano and ate ‘alfajores’, which were shortbread biscuits filled with dolce leche. The cafe was empty when we arrived at 9:30 and was full by 10am – lots of well maintained elderly Argentinians and young tourists. You would have liked it there.

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Ate a very late lunch in a parilla (name for a steak restaurant.) Walked from hotel heading south, along narrow streets littered with blankets reserving sites for the homeless, dog mess and broken pavements. The houses on either side were a muddle of faded villas with gargoyles and balconies and modern apartment blocks. We passed a burnt out theatre, a derelict mansion and tiny newsagents. It felt real, interesting and full of life. Buenos Aires is growing on me – perhaps you need more than a day here before you notice it properly.

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Arrived at Chiquilin in Calle Sarmento. Peered in window and it looked clean, so went in and sat in a corner table, under oil paintings and bottles of wine on shelves below the low ceiling. Ate more steak than the whole family would normally eat at home. All the restaurants here have an abundance of waiters dressed in black and white, most of whom seem to either speak English or understand my very bad Spanish.

Walked back to hotel. Exhausted but pleased with the day. Tomorrow we might go to Uruguay – I’ll let you know what it’s like.

Take care,
Love, Anne x

IMG_4227The Opera House

 

 

 

 

 

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Probably not the best place to post letters.

The city seemed full of derelict post boxes!

 

 

 

 

 

P1090523 Tango dancing in the street.

 

 

 

 

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Letter to a Sister : Buenos Aires


As we flew into Buenos Aires, the horizon was red with dawn. A beautiful end to a 14 hour flight.

I was slightly worried going through immigration as I had been given a form to complete on the plane (at 2am). I managed the name and address bits but when it started asking about the make and series of my mobile, I gave up – ‘iPhone, very old’, was the best I could manage. Husband assured me that we only needed one per household and he had done one. No one ever asked for it anyway, so was an unnecessary worry.

On the way to the hotel, we passed a demonstration. They had blocked two lanes of the road (the roads here are really wide) and they had banners (which were in Spanish, so I couldn’t read them.) People had just abandoned their cars in the road and gone to join them. Our driver said this happens a lot.

The hotel, Park Tower, is right next to The English Tower. Our taxi driver said this was because it was a gift from the English. The guidebook said it was because it looks like Big Ben. It doesn’t.

Opposite is the war memorial for the Falklands War (interesting choice of position.) The politics are complicated, the fact that so many young men died is heartbreaking, whatever your nationality.

We looked around Galerias Pacifico, which used to be an art gallery but is now a shopping mall. The walls were beautifully decorated. The shops were just shops, so didn’t spend long in there.

We ate empanachas for supper. They are like mini fried pasties. Go well with beer.

IMG_4113 IMG_4112 English Clock and war memorial.

 

 

 

 

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The night wasn’t terrible and I want to keep to UK time as it’s such a short trip. We ordered room service coffee at 4am. The coffee here is very dark, the milk tastes like evaporated milk, so you don’t want much. The room service menu has a separate price list. I’m guessing this is because inflation is currently 25%, so it saves them reprinting the whole menu every time prices go up. It was quite a challenge to get Argentinian currency before we came, and no one will buy it back from us when we go home. Most places accept credit cards or US dollars.

We walked to Casa Rosada, where Evita made her impassioned speeches from the balcony. I can’t tell you how much it was enhanced by Husband singing all the Lloyd Webber songs in my ear, very loudly and slightly off-key. The palace is pink – according to the guide book this is because it’s painted in cow’s blood. I wish I hadn’t known that, think I will stop reading guide book and make up my own reasons for things.

Crossed several major roads (multi-lane roads are a feature of Argentina. They do have lights to help you cross though.) Saw a bridge which is meant to resemble Tango dancers. Husband suggested we could strike a Tango pose and take selfies. We didn’t.

Walked along a river. Even in quite expensive areas, there are people sleeping rough under blankets. They didn’t ask for money, they were just bundled up under shop awnings. Sad.

We got a taxi to La Boca region. We were told in the hotel that it wasn’t safe for us to wander around, but there was one street, Caminito, which was full of tourists. We saw lots of painted houses, cafes with Tango dancers and singers, lots of street art. It was nice and interesting, though not very ‘real’.

I bought a cushion cover for my collection and a fridge magnet for Mum (I’m sure she’ll be delighted, you can never have too many fridge magnets and this one has a bottle opener attached.)

We got a taxi back to the hotel. We were told to only take taxis that had writing on the doors. If they had writing on both front and back doors, it means they’re owned by a company, so they are the best ones. They have a light at the front which tells you when they’re free. There are loads of taxis, so it was easy.

Went back and showered. The hotel’s bathroom products are called ‘Wine and Beauty’. They smell of wine. It’s not unpleasant, but I do feel a bit like I’ve washed my hair in a bottle of Chardonnay. It reminds me of when, as a teenager, I used to rinse my hair in vinegar because someone told me it would give me ginger highlights, and when it rained I smelt like a chip shop.

Went to bed at 6:30 (10:30 UK time.) Husband has muttered about my time plan very little. I will write again tomorrow and let you know what else we see.

Take care,
Love, Anne x

IMG_4134 IMG_4139 Casa Rosada

 

 

 

IMG_4159 Tango bridge

 

 

 

 

 

IMG_4175 IMG_4170 La Boca

IMG_4205 A ‘good’ taxi, with writing on both doors.

 

 

 

 

 

You can read my sister’s letter at :

http://ruthdalyauthor.blogspot.co.uk/2016/04/reasons-for-having-messy-house-letters.html

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anneethompson.com

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A Long Walk in London


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I love London, it is my favourite city in the world. I love the mix of old and new, the history that’s hidden in every corner, the millions of lives that have been so intensely lived during such different circumstances.

I have always disliked the London Underground but it’s convenient and safe, so I often used it. Then, one day I caught a train from Monument to Bank, got lost in the tunnels trying to find the exit and came back up the steps at….. Monument. I realised that the stations were somewhat nearer than I had thought. In fact, central London is quite small, you can walk to most of it.

This is a walk that I do fairly regularly. It is long (I walk fast and it takes me two hours) but hugely interesting. Wear comfortable shoes, don’t carry anything heavy and leave teenaged boys at home (they walk very slowly and moan a lot.)

The walk starts at Victoria station, named after the road it’s on, which is in turn named after the Queen. When you leave via the main exit, you will see the Shakespeare pub. If you ever get a taxi to Victoria, ask them to drop you at The Shakespeare – it’s much quicker (and therefore cheaper) than being taken to the taxi rank at the station.

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     Walk along Buckingham Palace road. You will pass the wall that encloses the Queen’s house, then some entrances, including the entrance to her gallery. The gallery is nice if you like that sort of thing.

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IMG_3687 IMG_3689 You’ll pass wonderfully touristy gift shops and the Buckingham Palace gift shop.

      You then arrive at the junction with Birdcage walk and The Mall. My tip here is : use the pedestrian lights. Most of London has pedestrian lights but they are slow and if you know which direction the traffic is coming from, you can cross much quicker on your own. However, at this junction, the traffic moves very fast, from multiple directions. When you are half way across a multi-lane road, it is a bit scary to see a fast approaching car. Have a quick look at Buckingham Palace and St James’s Park, then walk along The Mall.

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You could walk through the park, which is nice (it has ducks and a pelican that we once saw eat a pigeon. Yes, really.) But it is slower and The Mall is nice and wide and you can look at the posh houses on the other side of the road.

IMG_3702One of these is St James’s Palace, where Prince Charles lives some of the time. He seems to be having his roof fixed at the moment poor chap, never nice having the builders in.

 

 

IMG_3703If you look across the park, you can see the London Eye and Big Ben in Westminster (which reminds you again how small London actually is.)

 

 

 

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You will then arrive at Admiralty Arch. I have told lots of tourist friends/relatives that this is Marble Arch. It isn’t, though it is an arch and it does appear to be made of marble. It used to house government buildings but has now been sold to be a hotel.

 

 

 

IMG_3705Through the arch, you will see Trafalgar Square with Nelson’s column and fountains and giant lions.

 

 

 

IMG_3708 The lions are harder to climb than you might think.

 

 

IMG_3707Across the square is the National Gallery. This is a wonderful place, with free entrance and fantastic paintings (and toilets and coffee shops.) Walk diagonally across the square, heading for the large white church you can see on the right. This is St Martin’s. You will now be in Charing Cross Road.

 

 

Charing Cross Road is my favourite road. It has really interesting shops: old books, posh clothes that nobody wears and weird stuff. As you walk up the road, on the right is Covent Garden, on the left is China Town. I always think of Little Newport Street as the entrance to China Town (because they used to have a good Chinese bookshop there.) You will see lots of Chinese script as you walk up Charing Cross Road.

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Turn right when you get to Shaftesbury Avenue, then cross High Holborn onto Bloomsbury Way. There are theatres here. There are less people and the buildings are a mix of offices and old churches. There are a few enticing lanes with nice cafes, the shop that always has bowls of fruit outside and some cheap grocery shops. There is also the hat stall (which always seems to be there.) Useful, one never knows when one might need a bowler hat.

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You will pass Bloomsbury Square (good place for a sit down in the summer) which is just in front of the British Museum. You will then arrive at Southampton Row. Turn left and walk up about 300 yards, past just about every chain of coffee shop and a Pizza Express. You will then arrive at a little lane, Cosmo Place. Walk along here to Queen’s Square. This is a small garden full of benches dedicated to people who I assume were treated in the surrounding hospitals. You are now next to Great Ormond Street children’s hospital and the Neurological Hospital (should you wish to pop in for a quick MRI.)

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Walk down Old Gloucester to Theobald’s Road, then straight down Proctor Street to High Holborn. You are now in the legal part of the city. Turn left. As you walk along High Holborn you will pass lots of alleyways leading to the Inns. If you have read any of C J Sansom’s historical novels, you will love this place. My favourite is Lincoln’s Inn Fields. You can wander through the gardens, looking at the buildings, knowing they are pretty much unchanged since the days of Henry VIII. There are signs saying “No Public Right of Way” but I tell myself this refers to cars and just walk in and no one has ever stopped me.

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As you continue along High Holborn, you get a real feel for London. Really old stuff next to really modern stuff with new stuff being built. The fingerprints of history. Holborn Viaduct is a tangle of old and new. It is also near to Smithfield Market (slightly North) and St Paul’s cathedral (slightly South) if you want to make detours.

IMG_3746You will pass a dragon boundary mark. These mark the original gates into the City of London, which is also called The Square Mile. It can be quite confusing for visitors – the City of London is a small area within London, not the sprawling mass of the whole city, which is also called London…..

 

 

 

 

 

You will pass the end of the Old Bailey, the Central Criminal Court built in 1673. Before they had gas lights, they used mirrors to reflect the light onto the faces of the accused so they could watch their expressions. They also placed sound boxes above them to amplify their voices. There is a viewing gallery where you can watch cases being tried (it is nothing like ‘Judge Judy’ on television. No laughing and very tense. Real people in real trouble.) It was built next to Newgate prison, which was demolished over a hundred years ago (but still appears in historical books and films.)

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IMG_3765Turn left up King Edward’s Street to Gresham Street. You could nip up to London Wall. Here you will pass stretches of the original London wall, built by the Romans.

 

 

 

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You will also pass Wood Street, where you can see Rapunzel’s tower. This is where she let down her hair so the handsome prince could climb up and rescue her. It has stood here since the days when this was covered in forest. (Actually, it is the remains of St Alban’s church, which was rebuilt after the great fire in 1666. It was designed by Sir Christopher Wren and then destroyed by a bomb during WW2.)

 

 

 

 

IMG_3770You will pass Guildhall, which is used for ceremonial rites. I went to a ceremony here once and the Lord Mayor of London came, escorted by Pikemen and Musketeers (which was somewhat unexpected but quite interesting.)

 

 

 

IMG_3773 Turn right down Princes, past the bank of England (a lot of gold in there) and onto King William Street.

 

 

 

 

IMG_3774You will pass the Royal Exchange, which has posh shops and coffee places. I once went in there to try on expensive shoes (which I didn’t intend to buy) and I saw Brad Pitt when I came out. He held the door open for me. I expect it meant a lot to him. Opposite is Mansion House which is where the Lord Mayor of London lives (but I didn’t see any musketeers on guard. Perhaps they were in disguise.)

 

 

 

IMG_3778At the bottom of King William Street is Monument. This was designed by Sir Christopher Wren (busy chap) to commemorate the Great Fire of London. You can go up it, if you like heights, but you have to pay.

 

Walk across London Bridge and finish your walk at London Bridge Station. On the bridge you can look down the river to Tower Bridge, see HMS Belfast and the Tower of London.

So much history, all waiting to be explored. It’s a long walk, but there is so much to see you could easily add some cafes and take a whole day.

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IMG_3786 This is the spike, just outside London Bridge Station,
used for catching parachutists in the last war.
(My children never believe me when I tell them that.)

 

 

 

 

 

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Letters to a Sister : 30


Bruges

     We went to Bruges. It smells of sweet waffles and warm Gluhwein. It has the metallic sound of horses hooves on cobble stones and the babble of mixed languages. It feels cold. Always. And sometimes wet. It tastes of blonde beer, chocolate and waffles. We saw Christmas lights, a skating rink, red brick buildings with staggered roofs. It was a good day.

It was also a cold wet day, but that can’t be helped.

We booked to travel with Oakhall Holidays because we’ve been with them before, it only costs about £30 and it’s really easy – you go to Sevenoaks and then sit on a coach. http://www.oakhall.co.uk

Following the attacks in Paris, I was slightly worried that there might be trouble or that security would be very tight. There was no trouble. There was also no security. None. Not until we came to re-enter England. Somewhat surprised. No one at all asked for photo i d or looked at our passports. If the Prime Minister is reading this (which I’m sure he does each week) then this is an area of security that you should perhaps look into. The tunnel seems a likely target to me.

When you arrive in Bruges, the coach parks a short walk from town and you are then free to wander where you want. Now, when we have been previously, we have had trouble finding a restaurant with free tables. (This time it was fine – the waiter told us that in the last week they have had 1500 cancellations due to the trouble in Paris. Mainly Japanese tour groups apparently.)

Anyway, IF you are with other people who really want to look around the Christmas markets and enjoy Bruges, then I would suggest booking a table. We went to Vivaldi, which is not far from the center. It had a lovely fireplace, nice food and clean toilets. I had the goats cheese and honey salad which was very good. Husband had fish and chips and mussels (also good.) The email is : vivaldibrugge@skynet.be

HOWEVER, if you are with the kind of people who are only there because you asked them to come, the kind of people who actually dislike Christmas markets and cold, wet weather, the kind of people who will get very comfortable next to the fire, drink several large beers and then have to be dragged from the restaurant and will spend the rest of the trip looking for somewhere dry to sit down, then DO NOT go there first. It will make the rest of the day much harder. (No further comment.)

There are a few things in Bruges that you really must do. You have to see the Christmas markets, which are small and a bit naff but you should see them anyway, the atmosphere is nice. You should drink beer (not too much).You should have a hot chocolate (which is served as a mug of hot milk. They then either give you a stick of solid chocolate to melt into it or a jug of melted chocolate to add. Delicious.) You should eat a waffle. You should visit a lace shop, even if just to admire the craft work. If you are of a robust disposition, you should go to the back of a chocolate shop. Here you will find chocolate moulded into every imaginable shape, much of it related to sexual organs. It is unusual and I cannot imagine how one eats it. I was going to take a photo for the blog but actually it was too rude, even for me.

If you have time, there are also horse and carriage rides, boat trips, windmills and museums. Many, many museums. I am not really a museum sort of person, so I cannot give any opinion at all, but there are lots.

We have been to Bruges in the Winter a few times. I always have a lovely time. A few blurry photos below…..

Great beer…..IMG_3647

Great waffles….IMG_3649

Great Gluhwein…..IMG_3664

Great hot chocolate….IMG_3680

Christmas Market :

IMG_3676 IMG_3675 IMG_3674 IMG_3673 IMG_3672 IMG_3671 IMG_3670

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If you enjoyed this, you will love my new book: The Sarcastic Mother’s Holiday Diary.
I have always written a diary on holiday, so last Christmas, I decided to find all my old diaries and blogs, and make a book for my children. However, several other people also asked for a copy, so I have written a public version – it’s available on Amazon and has been described as “The Durrells meet Bill Bryson”!

Why not buy a copy today? I think it will make you laugh.

The US link is here:

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The India link is here:

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The UK link is here:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Sarcastic-Mothers-Holiday-Diary-ebook/dp/B07N95281F/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1549014970&sr=8-2&keywords=the+sarcastic+mothers+holiday+diary

 

Gozo, Malta


Continuation of holiday diary.

Arrived at ferry terminal in good time. They leave every 45 minutes, so only had to wait about 10 minutes but in the hot sun it felt like forever. Was surprised by how big and near Gozo looked – like a peninsula across the bay.
Son 2 gave directions but the other two quite vocal. Conversations like:
Son: Take the next right.
R: This one, this one, turn right now.
Husband: I’m not going up that one, it’s too narrow. Right, which way now?
M:I think that’s wrong anyway.
Son: It’s not wrong, I know where we are exactly. Probably. Okay, if there’s a roundabout take 3rd exit. But there wont be, roundabouts are only on the map, they never exist in real life here.

Also hard to see ‘no entry’ signs as the sun has faded them all.
Gozo has more flat roofed houses and domed churches. Very pretty.
Met villa man in square and went to villa. ‘Panorama’ in Xaghra (pronounced ‘Shara’. My family never managed that.) We booked it through James Villas but it has its own website.
Villa very luxurious. It’s set on the edge of the hill with views across a huge valley towards the citadel at Victoria.

Drove down winding road to nearest big supermarket. A Lidl. Very stressful. No brands I recognised, hard to find everything we needed, very limited choice. M noticed maggots all over eggs. Not good experience.

Walked from villa into centre of Xaghra, about 10 minutes unless you got lost. Several people sitting outside chatting. Square has a few restaurants to choose from.

We ate at Oleander. Very friendly and welcoming. Food nice, especially the baked brie starter served on figs and walnuts. Delicious. Husband and M raved over the tomato, capers, olives and peppers bruschetta. Son 2 agreed it was delicious ( and he doesn’t even like capers, olives or peppers. Isn’t very keen on bruschetta either.) All too full to eat our main courses. Had lemoncello shots then walked home. Didn’t get lost.

Wednesday: Lazy day. Unpacked, did washing. Cooked pancakes and bacon – all takes ages in unfamiliar kitchen. Kitchen is beautiful but rather lacking in equipment. Used salad bowl to make batter. Only coffee maker seems to be a Nespresso machine ( but no capsules) or a cracked cafetiere which I don’t fancy using. Think maybe a dog mauled it at some point.
Pool boy came. He was about 70.
Boys found some toy boats and had races with them in indoor pool. So glad the sophistication of the villa has affected them.
Got cinema room working, watched a Mandarin dvd.
Horrid lunch. Hate Lidl.

Played ‘Game of Thrones’ board game. I still don’t understand the rules. Much testosterone fuelled arguing and making of alliances. Was a very long game. Lucky we weren’t in a beautiful villa with views across a valley full of sunshine. R hibernated somewhere. Wise girl.
Of course, the best thing of all is that long after the game FINALLY ended, it could be discussed at length, each move analysed, much advice given. Shoot me someone.

Strolled into town. Picturesque square/church rather spoiled by extensive building work. Found a small supermarket 5 minutes walk from villa. It sold everything that I had tried to find in Lidl, many with recognised brands. (I hate Lidl.) It opens at 6am, so ideal for buying stuff before breakfast.

Ate at Oleander again. No one really enjoyed their meal. Maybe it’s just too hot to enjoy eating.

Thursday: Lazed, swam, ice creams. The ice creams were like rocks so turned down the freezer to 1.
Pizza for lunch. Tasted mainly of plastic. ( Lidl).

Drove to Xlendi. Parked in car park behind the shops (everywhere we went was much less crowded than resorts in the UK. There are not many spaces in the car parks but there are always some.)

The shops and cafes run along the waterfront. It was very crowded with a shingle beach. There were buoys marking where was safe to swim (easy to get run over by a boat when swimming in Gozo.) We walked along a rock wall to some steps down into the sea. Swam/snorkelled. Mainly saw small shoals of fish. Water really salty ( stung eyes) and very deep – the only way out was up the steps

Drive home was difficult, winding roads and lack of signs. Apparently they were designed to be confusing because the island was raided so many times. They succeeded.

Ate in DVenue, another restaurant in the square. They had a good fresh fish platter. Nice meals.

Walked back to villa and watched Harry Potter (not my choice) in cinema room. This is a long room built under the pool, so is dark and cool. It has black leather sofas that recline and a big screen and sound system. Note to self: never allow husband to install a fancy sound system. He has it loud enough for the whole town to hear. Claims base is set too high.

Friday: Walked to local shop and bought local honey, eggs and milk. Made pancakes. There is also a bread van that comes from the local bakery and drives around the town honking its horn at about 10 every morning. Stops in various places. Nice crusty bread.

After lunch, went for a drive. Drove to Dwejra Bay. Beautiful. Rocks down to deep blue water, Azure Window (a big hole in the rock which was very crowded with people taking photos), several ice cream vans, stalls selling tourist tat from Africa, St Anne’s chapel (more modern than expected.) You could look down onto the Inland Sea. This used to be a huge cave but the roof fell in, so now it’s a giant rock pool surrounded by cafes and full of boats for hire and divers. Took photos.

Drove through St Lawrences. Took photo of church, which was very ornate, lots of red and gold. All the churches here have a basket of material next to the door, so you can cover your shoulders.

Drove back to Xaghra via Ghasri, Zebbug, Xwejni Bay, Marsalforn. You can imagine how my family pronounce these names.

Saw interesting rock formations and salt pans but was told I had exceeded my photograph limit and the car was not stopping.

Getting into Xaghra a challenge due to closed roads but no helpful diversion signs. Also, Gozo DOES have cul de sac/no-through-road signs, because I have seen some. However it obviously did not buy enough because mostly they are unmarked and you just have to turn round when you get to the end.

Got home eventually. Ate several ice creams. Still not losing weight.

Played Game of Thrones with the males. Husband’s turns are like advert breaks in the US – you can write diary, read a book, cook a three course meal and still not miss any play. Boys had coded talks to discuss the rules in secret (like I would’ve cared.) R sunbathed and talked to the boyfriend.

Ate at DVenue again. Finished with complimentary lemoncello shots. Weekends get busier, so we booked a table for Sunday.

Saturday: Quick breakfast, then drove back to Dwejra Bay. Worried about hair being dry so put suncream in it. R asked me why my hair was blue.

Walked down some steep steps from the first car park to a cove where Fungus Rock is ( big rock where they used to collect a plant. Which apparently was not a fungus.) Water wonderfully deep, you could just float around wearing a snorkel, lost in an underwater world. The route into the water was via sharp rocks, so we wore swimming shoes ( bought for about £5 from Amazon before we came and they worked really well.) Saw rocks and seaweed and shoals of fish. Son 2 asked me if I knew my hair was blue.

Bacon and egg lunch at villa.

I stupidly said, ” The rocks look much nearer in the water than they really are.”
Males then discussed/argued about (for hours) the refraction index of water. M used breadsticks to illustrate. Argument somewhat weakened when breadstick went in his eye.

Played G of T. Each move took 27 hours.

Have noticed that no one listens to me. I think they honestly do not hear me, have grown accustomed to just tuning out my voice. Have started to speak with Scottish accent. This makes them all stop and stare at me in surprise ( not sure they actually listen to what I say but at least I now have their attention.)

Watched Pitch Perfect in cinema room. Still not my choice but not as bad as you might think.

Cooked steaks (horrible) and had them with red wine (nice) and salad (okay) in fancy dining room/wine cellar which has been carved out of the rock below the villa. Very atmospheric.

(Hair no longer blue. But suncream made it very wiry, was not a good idea.)

Sunday : Made pancake batter then couldn’t light hob. No gas. Annoying. Husband checked barbecue outside and managed to light it. Took ages to heat up but then worked fine. Was rather lovely to eat breakfast outside, overlooking the valley. Sent text to villa man who changed gas bottle later that morning.

There is a small dog who wanders along the ridge and peers at us. Doesn’t seem to understand French or Mandarin. Everyone has given him a different name.

Had cold shower. I have problems with the taps here. You sort of have to push them up to turn on then wiggle them left to get warm water. Sometimes works, sometimes doesn’t. No one else has this problem so it must be me.

Walked to church. Service was in progress but other people were going in so I slipped into the back. Was incredibly hot in there. Very full church, lots of families. No order of service sheet or hymn books or Bibles. Service all in Maltese, was like listening to Arabic, couldn’t understand anything. After 10 minutes, with sweat trickling down my back, I gave up and slipped out again. I’m glad I went – I don’t know how else to make Sundays different – but there seemed little point in staying long. Pretty church though, painted ceilings.

Husband went to cake shop, Cafe Reale. There is an Italian man who owns it. He gets up early every morning and bakes wonderful cakes. We tried a selection.

From about 11:30 to after 12 each day, there is lots of canon fire/fireworks across the valley. R suggested they are the midday canons and the Maltese are not very good time keepers. Husband suggested that maybe a bird had got lost and strayed across Gozo and we were hearing the hunters. (Hunting is a problem here, there are not many birds left now.)

Played G of T. Each move took 29 hours. Clearly one major difference between the genders is that females can decide future moves DURING someone else’s turn, hence taking much less time when it’s time for their move. Plus they don’t actually care that much.

R had washing machine disaster. Now has lots of clothes that match her yellow sundress. Boys played her lots of songs with the word “yellow” in. I’m sure they were trying to make her feel better.

Dinner at DVenue. Good again.

Saw a blue light on a roof. Told R they have blue stars in Gozo.

Monday : Husband went to buy water and milk. Hard to find full fat milk here. Today bought 2.5% fat. I think the darker the blue of the carton, the higher the fat content. But not necessarily.

Discussed family chores as husband has decided everyone should help (that idea went so well last holiday.) R and M responsible for all dishwasher duties. They immediately formed a trade union and appointed R as spokesperson. Spent some time discussing terms and conditions with husband, who tried to instigate penalty clauses but R told him it contravened European law. So glad he started this. Son 2 (in charge of rubbish disposal) kept offering to strike in support of R and M.

After lunch walked to square. Full of dusty roadworks, so continued round the corner to a little cafe. Had ice creams and coffee. ( I had Malteaser ice cream – clearly from Malta.) Hot walk back to villa.

Went to Victoria as R wanted to buy gifts (yaay shopping, my favourite.) Very windy. Told a storm was coming, 110 lightening strikes in Tunisia, apparently. Shops all rushing to get their displays inside.

We went to Maldonado Bistro. They didn’t open until 7pm but kindly let us go in early and have drinks while we waited.
Son 2 used his clever phone to translate the menu from English into Maltese and Mandarin. Helpful. The menu had 12 different bruschettas. This kept family occupied for 50 minutes (just the choosing bit. You may have not noticed but my family enjoys negotiating/discussing/persuading. Strong opinions. Not my genes.) R tried a kinnie, which is advertised everywhere here. It’s a bitter orange drink. Very bitter.

Bruschettas were huge when they arrived, half a loaf. Very nice. Great atmosphere (down in a wine cellar) and friendly service.

Only problem was toilets which Son 2 informed me were clean but built as stalls and the dividing partition was below his eye level. But he is very tall. Good restaurant, definitely recommend a visit. info@maldonado.com.mt

Drove home. Streets pretty at night. Saw several blue lights on poles. Boys told R it was an alien invasion.

Tuesday: Son 2 complained he had not slept due to M being in charge of air conditioning. He said it was practically snowing in their room and he might have pneumonia.

Drove to Xewkija (pronounced shewkeeya”. But not by my family.) Saw the third biggest dome in Europe ( except one in Malta also claims this. One is higher and one is wider, so there is some dispute. Sounds like my family.) The rotunda is nice, quite simple inside, apart from the massive dome. It was built over a smaller, more ornate church, which they moved to the side by numbering all the stones and moving them individually. It is now a side chapel.

The main church has some good modern art, including two statues made of papier-maché by Alfred Camilleri Cauchi. I like papier-maché, made a rather fine mask when I was at Junior School. Not that it really compares.

Went to small supermarket next to rotunda (husband has developed a peach addiction) started to absolutely pour with rain, ran to car, soaked.

Drove home through Victoria, which is like the moving staircases in Hogwarts in Harry Potter books – whichever way you go in you can never find the correct route out.

Cleaners at villa. Were very thorough, even found two towels husband had hidden in wardrobe in attempt to get extras. J asked them for blankets.
Lunch. Thunder storm.

Males decided they wanted to build sandcastles on Ramla beach. As it was cloudy and cool, R and I decided to walk there. Started to follow road signs, then realised that they directed traffic along major roads so followed map instead. Reached a ridge where we could see beach but it was unclear how to get down to it. By this time the sun had reappeared and it was very hot. Two stray dogs joined us, happy to have some company and walked with us, waiting at every bend for us to catch up. We ignored them but they came anyway, was rather nice. Took an hour to reach beach (nice walk if not sunny.)
Found males in far corner of beach building Venice. Drove home.

Swam. Pool very cold when full of rainwater. Ate ice creams, which are still too hard. Realised the “fast freeze” button had been left on by previous guests.

Wednesday: After breakfast, drove to Victoria. Walked to citadel. Great views, could see all around island. Went into the battery, which led to the silos (huge grain storage areas, like great caves.) Very interesting. The silos are connected by a dark narrow tunnel (from when they were turned into a reservoir) so now you can walk right into them. Son 2 and R sang a chant, harmonising with their echoes. Was magical.

Then saw the rooms used as WW2 shelters. They were under the reservoirs, so if they’d been hit, everyone would’ve drowned. Not such a good idea.

Didn’t pay for the museum. Didn’t pay for the prison, but did put Son2 into the stocks outside. Didn’t see a Christmas tree ornament to buy. But did see some traditional lace. Shop owner said it was the last of her stock as all her suppliers were now in their eighties and younger women wont sell their work because it earns about 50p an hour. Seemed too mean to buy any.

Had lunch back in Xaghra at Cafe Reale. They have the BEST iced coffee. Still not losing weight.

Males decided to return to beach, we stayed here to swim but then the pool man arrived so we couldn’t. Annoying.

Males returned late, very happy, had built a brilliant castle and had been joined by another family (somewhat younger, so they could pretend they were building it for the children.) Also helped by ‘Steve the tiler’ from Australia who had used his building skills to good effect. M had heaved heavy boulders to protect it, Son 2 had applied a more scientific approach and incorporated some thatch to increase structural support. M rather disparaging of the thatch. It was slightly surprising how long three adult males could discuss a sandcastle for. Husband did suggest a post dinner drive to show me and R but unfortunately drank too much Cisk and was over the alcohol limit. Such a shame.

Nice dinner again at DVenue. Every Wednesday evening at 9pm in July and August a drama group performs in the square. It has an excellent sound system but I suspect the performance appeals mostly to their family members.

Afterwards the choirboys played football using the church doorway as a goal. Excellent use of space.

Looked across the valley. All the towns are now full of blue lights on poles. Apparently they represent Mary ( not aliens) and I assume are ready for the 15th, which is Assumption Day. There is a strong Catholic presence in Malta.

Thursday : Husband booked a boat for Friday afternoon, Xlendi Watersports, €80, 4 adults, 2 hours.

Drove to Calypso’s cave. This is where Ulysses was put under a spell by the witch Calypso when returning from the Trojan war (if you enjoy Homer.) It was confusing to find on maps as there’s also a viewpoint and you can’t tell which is on the road. Followed signs. There was a small boutique where an elderly lady (possibly Calypso) was selling clothes, followed signs along a walkway. Brilliant view of Ramla beach and out to sea. No cave. Searched around a bit (while husband checked sandcastle with zoom on camera). Found some disused steps and some scaffolding holding up a rock. I think Calypso’s cave has collapsed. Shame.

Went back to square for more iced coffee with cream at Cafe Reale.

Watched building work and cars narrowly missing each other. I must say, Gozo has a LOT of building work, they seem to be rebuilding the whole island.

Back to villa in time for 12 noonish canons. Gozo also has a lot of canons.

Went to the salt pans at Xwejni Bay. Very interesting. Shallow pools , cut by hand, to collect seawater. When it dries they harvest the salt crystals and sell it (Gozo sea salt.)

Walked around Qolla-L-Bajda. Weird rock erosion and a cave. White clay cliffs eroding fast, beach littered with great chunks of fallen cliff. Cove interesting but a bit smelly.

Evening meal in Marsalforn. Ate in Menqa L’Antika, which had good reviews but either we were unlucky and went on a day when they had staffing problems or they wrote them themselves. Good menu but food didn’t really match descriptions.

Malta


Extracts from a holiday diary: Malta
August 2015

Some names changed to protect identity. I have no idea why……..

Saturday: Taxi at 5am. Always stressful as everyone has set alarm for 4:30, knowing it will take half an hour to get ready. Lots of tension over bathroom space. Except for Mario. He had decided it wasn’t worth going to bed. Husband gave him a 3am deadline for being packed ( visions of him falling asleep, not packed, at 3:30.) I just love the whole ‘male territory’ thing.

Taxi and flights okay.
Mario announced in taxi he has a note on his phone: ” Reminder to future self. Rae does not need a window seat. In 2010 she had a window seat and she shut the blind and went to sleep.”

We flew with British Airways. R had the window seat.

Landed in Malta. Hired car through Avis, a Mazda 6. A very battered Mazda 6. As we left the airport, understood why it was battered. No one stops at junctions, you just have to try hard to avoid them.

Son 2 map read. Not easy as map had no road names and there were lots of unexpected one-way roads. Also roundabouts were marked on map but did not appear to actually exist. R and M gave regular input, husband ignored most directions. No idea how Son 2 remained calm ( this is why I REFUSE to be the map reader.)

Malta has lots of flat roofed buildings made of pale limestone. Reminded me of being in Palestine ( not that I’ve actually ever been to Palestine.)

Arrived at Meridien Hotel. Nice lobby. Had drinks while they prepared our rooms and looked at views, which are brilliant, across a bay to a church.
Rooms nice. Walked around town and bought water ( water in Malta tastes horrid, though is safe to use for ice, washing salads, cleaning teeth, unless you are particularly sensitive.) Even at 6:30 pm, it was really hot, sweaty within minutes.

Ate in Villa Restaurant, which is part of the hotel. Meals around €30 per head for starter and mains. Very nice. We sat on a veranda overlooking water, tiny lights in trees, beautiful. R told me that next to the sea you don’t get mosquitos so wont be bitten. This is not true.

Sunday: Breakfast. Amazing buffet, had pretty much everything. Need to lose weight before nephews wedding or will need bigger dress – was not a good start.
Family sat and chatted to each other on fb.
Planned day.

Hotel is at St Julian ( which explains why I couldn’t find it on map in Valletta. Another reason why I no longer map read.)
Valletta has a Crusaders fort. Caught bus. Very easy as Valletta is end of the line. Tickets cost €2 each and are valid for two hours (so you can get on and off buses with the same ticket within that time.)

Valletta was interesting, busy and hot. More limestone flat roofed buildings, flags, cafes, gift shops. Malta has lots of Festa – each town has a Saint and one weekend each year they decorate the town, have a parade, let off fireworks and are generally festive.
We looked round the free bits of the fort because the bits you pay for are basically museums and we don’t much like museums. Plus we could see lots just from the free bits. Great views. Loud canons at midday.

Fort built in 1556 by the knights from the Order of St John. Later, in 1798, Napoleon invaded and kicked out the knights. The Order still exist today – in the UK they are St John Ambulance Brigade, though the order itself is based in Rome and answers only to the Pope. ( Good book, ‘Malta and Gozo’ by Juliet Rix explains it all.)

All hot, so decided to go to Mac D’s for lunch. Got enticed into a cafe by man on the door. Had nice lunch in warm air conditioned dining room ( was less hot but not really cool.) Prices in menu differed from prices advertised outside but not by much ( worth always checking though!) Food nice and cheap. Toilets nasty. Service friendly. V rude American lady made a fuss because her margherita pizza had tomato sauce, not fresh tomatoes. When she left, waiter laughed and raised his hands!

Went round the Grand Masters Palace. Cool painted ceilings and suits of armour. Lots of ‘Do Not Touch’ signs. ( If you’re tempted to try on a helmet when no one is looking, don’t bother – they’re glued onto the modals.) Weapons room had lots of weapons ( not unexpectedly, you might think) and was very hot.

Got bus back to St Julian. Friendly lady on bus told me that you can buy a weekly ticket for €21. Actually, everyone on Malta is friendly. Apart from the rude American lady. And some journalists who were waiting outside the Courthouse with tv cameras and who wouldn’t tell me who was inside ( they just said “criminals” when I asked. So I took photo of them instead.)

Son 2 informed me his shoe ( just one) is too big so he was wearing three pairs of socks. Sounded both hot and high impact on the laundry front. Bought him a shoe insole.
Walked to next bay and checked out restaurants. Everyone seemed very young and trendy ( am informed that the use of word “trendy” proves that I am old.) Ate ice creams next to sea.
Swam in hotel pool.

Walked around bay to Eat restaurant ( not part of the UK fast food chain.) V nice starter. R and I had cocktails which looked nice but mine was fairly low alcohol. Main courses okay but not great. When bill came, waitress said their credit card machine didn’t work. M ( the economist) informed me this was a scam. Either that or she was a bit daft to not tell us at the beginning as we may not have been carrying enough cash.

Monday: Nice breakfast. Family communicated by mobiles again. Might take a book tomorrow.

Drove to Mdina and Rabat. Mdina is the walled city within Rabat. Son 2 in charge of map again. Lorry ahead of us hit a tree branch which then fell and blocked the road. Son made up detour. Arrived in Mdina, which was surprising as Son admitted that at no point was he sure which road we were on. Did not stop him making decisive decisions at every junction, we were fooled. Apart from M, who labelled him the ‘Helen Keller of map readers’.

M requested that we not walk around in the midday sun. We arrived in Mdina at 11:50. It was hot. He hardly mentioned it at all.

Walked to St Paul’s grotto in Rabat. It started to rain. Was only about five drops but all males complained. Fear we may be holidaying in Sahara next year.

M complained that the name ‘Rabat’ is stolen from Morocco and St Pauls Cathedral is stolen from London. Walked around muttering about looking for the Maltese Eiffel tower and Statue of Liberty. We ignored him.

St Paul’s grotto was interesting, cool and dark, especially the catacombs. Not good if you don’t like confined spaces but excellent otherwise. Some of the best stuff is down narrow unmarked tunnels, so worth taking a boy with a clever phone or a torch. Tall males complain a lot.

Used toilets in museum. Nasty. Toilets in Malta also rarely have paper, so worth carrying your own supply.
Bought cushion cover for my collection. Has Maltese cross on it. Happy.

Ate lunch in Bottegin, Palazzo Xara in Rabat. Was okay and cheap.

Drove home. Got thoroughly lost. R took over map reading and took us in a big circle past some bamboo. Fired her and reinstated Son 2/Helen Keller, who took us all around the coast. Was scenic if not exactly direct.

Played new board game in the bar. I never actually understood the rules but everyone else seemed to enjoy it. Drank beers ( which helped.)

Tuesday: Breakfast at 9 (8 for me, am keeping to UK time. Mainly because it annoys the males.)
Husband collected a plateful of Maltese food ( pickled herrings, pea pastries, cheese). Ate a few mouthfuls, then collected a plateful of English breakfast food to ‘dilute’ it with. Told him he’s getting portly. He did not appreciate feedback.

Didn’t go to the Hypogeum in Paola as you have to book and there are no vacant slots for the next 20 years.

Drove to Hagar Qim to look at Mnajdra temples. Arrived 11:55. M hardly mentioned “midday sun” at all. There was an interesting 4D film before the monument ( my kind of history, short, informative and no long boring information boards to read.) Temples were unusual. And hot.

Drove back to St Julian with no detours. Son 2 told us, ” it helps if you know where you are when you start.” Explains a lot.

Checked out and ate lunch in hotel lobby. Nice food.

R said she needed to recharge all her electronics as her plug converters didn’t fit any of the sockets in her room. We pointed out that Malta has the same electricity as UK so she didn’t need any converters. R went quiet. Briefly.

Drove to ferry at Cirkewwa. I cannot begin to tell you how my family pronounce the names here…….

Paris


Image 5  Paris

     For many years, despite many many hints, I never went to Paris. My husband informed me that it was to be the epitaph on my gravestone: She never went to Paris.
Finally, in 2009, I stopped waiting for romantic husband to take me and decided to go with my daughter. For the record, I have been three times since (once with romantic husband, who clearly felt left out.) Not being a great traveller, we decided to go by train. My organised (if not romantic) husband booked the tickets for us and a night in a hotel.
We left home in good time and travelled up to St Pancreas with loads of time to spare. We found it rather funny that husband had taken us to station so early and spent an hour wandering around shops and having lunch in a cafe. We then dawdled to the platform entrance about ten minutes before train was due to leave. I then discovered that unlike a ‘normal’ train, you have to have your luggage checked and go through passport control when catching a train abroad. Everyone was very stressed by how late we were and we were whisked through security and boarded train just as it was leaving.
Train was easy and comfy and we had a meal as we travelled. After a while we went through a big tunnel. As we emerged on the other side we remarked on how short the tunnel had been and how the French countryside looked exactly like England.
We then drew into Ebbsfleet station and realised that we weren’t actually in France yet! When we did finally arrive in Paris, it was all very easy. We left the station and followed signs for the taxi rank. The trip was supposed to be to improve my daughter’s French before her GCSE. I realised how important this was when she declared, “Oh, I can see the French word for ‘taxi’. Look, it’s written on all their cars. It’s ‘Parisian'”

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     We stayed in Hotel du Louvre and I would highly recommend it. If you are not a confident traveller, it is near enough to walk to the Louvre, the opera house and along the river to the Eiffel tower. The staff were friendly, it was clean and they have a wonderful restaurant. Just beware if you have hot chocolate in the bar, it is unexpectedly expensive (much cheaper to order it on room service.)

     Checked in and walked around. No guide book, so passed lots of buildings that were clearly ‘something’ but no idea what. Took lots of photos. Bought a very French cake in a very French patisserie.

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      Went to the Louvre. Finding the Louvre was easy (it was next to our hotel.) Finding the entrance was more of a challenge. We spent a long time trying various doors. Eventually realised that the pyramid in the centre of the courtyard was in fact, the entrance. Felt rather silly. Saw Mona Lisa (and other stuff.)

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     Went to Le Nemours cafe. It happens to be right next to our hotel (you may be noticing a theme here) but it is also a perfect French cafe. It seems to appear in ALL films set in Paris. It has the wicker backed chairs, the round tables outside, the half curtained windows, etc etc. It is also (for Paris) quite cheap.

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      Walked to Opera house. Fancy. Went to Lafayette – a shop which is more fancy than the opera house. I do not like shopping but this one is worth a visit, if only to see the domed glass ceiling and all the balconies.

      Walked along river to Notre Dame. Happened to be inside when choir was practicing, which was pretty perfect.

       Saw gargoyles and stained glass windows.Image 2Image 3

      Got taxi back to station and train home. Taxi driver charged us an extra euro because we put bags in the boot. Not sure if that was normal but my French was not good enough to argue.
Arrived home and husband told us the name of all the buildings we had photographed and suggested we took a guide book next time.

      Next visit was in 2011, when I repeated the trip with son who was about to do his GCSE. This time we drove to Ebbsfleet and parked there. Much easier if you live in the South.

      On the train, I suggested that he should work out how to say, “We realise it is too early to check in but please could we leave our bags while we look around Paris,” ready for when we arrived at the hotel. Son told me that GCSE French does not cover that sort of thing. I informed him he had over an hour on the train to learn how, as my French is almost non existent. He wrote copious notes. When we arrived at hotel (same one as before. It’s nice) he read out his sentence. They did not completely understand but spent a long time explaining to him what he should have written. They then showed us around the hotel, explaining everything to my son in very simple French. Please note: My main suggestion for anyone visiting France is learn a little French. I found that if we spoke bad (in my case, very very bad) French, then everyone was really helpful and did their best to help us, often answering us in English so that we understood. People who just ask in English seem to have a much less friendly reception.

      We did much the same things as when I visited with my daughter, though not the shop and not the hour trying to find the entrance to the Louvre.

Image 8Cool statue of lion playing football in Louvre.

Image 7 Man feeding rabbit to his dog. Am not sure why he is naked but he is being very careful where dog puts           his paws!

      We also discovered the water taxi/bus which goes up and down the Seine. It was easy to buy tickets and you can get on and off where you want.

     We also went to a cafe right outside Notre Dame cathedral, overlooking the river. We ordered drinks and the friendly(!) waiter offered me a slice of gatueau. He then asked if I would like cream with it. When the bill arrived, I realised it was the most expensive cake I have ever eaten. I think the cream alone was about 6€. I told myself I was paying for the view and swore son to secrecy. Please note: Always worth checking prices!

     Paris is lovely. You can wander around the streets, walk next to the river and eat in little cafes. Everyone is friendly (as long as you speak French, even bad French) and there is lots to see. One day I might even venture further than a mile from the Louvre……

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If you enjoyed this, you will love my new book: The Sarcastic Mother’s Holiday Diary.
I have always written a diary on holiday, so last Christmas, I decided to find all my old diaries and blogs, and make a book for my children. However, several other people also asked for a copy, so I have written a public version – it’s available on Amazon and has been described as “The Durrells meet Bill Bryson”!

Why not buy a copy today? I think it will make you laugh.

The US link is here:

https://www.amazon.com/Sarcastic-Mothers-Holiday-Diary-ebook/dp/B07N95281F/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1549015525&sr=8-1&keywords=the+sarcastic+mothers+holiday+diary

The India link is here:

https://www.amazon.in/Sarcastic-Mothers-Holiday-Diary-ebook/dp/B07N95281F/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1549015429&sr=8-1&keywords=the+sarcastic+mothers+holiday+diary

The UK link is here:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Sarcastic-Mothers-Holiday-Diary-ebook/dp/B07N95281F/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1549014970&sr=8-2&keywords=the+sarcastic+mothers+holiday+diary

 

Lake Como, Italy


Lake Como, Italy

Holiday Diary 2009

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     Drove 1½ hours from Milan to Lake Como. Checked in to Grand Hotel, Menaggio, which we booked through Citalia.

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The hotel was lovely, with pretty communal areas and a balcony in our room over looking the lake and surrounding hills. Very pretty.

     Strolled around the town. Swam in hotel pool. Ate in hotel, nice meal. Friendly staff.Walked into town and played crazy golf. It was a cold evening.

Day 2: Got up early and went to gym. Then felt ill all day (so not used to exercise!)
We were late into breakfast so the buffet was rather depleted. Lazy day.

Day 3: Didn’t go to gym. (No need to over do it.)

     Hotel were having a Gala night so were putting up some (slightly naff) decorations. Had a very complicated conversation with the maid about getting a larger sheet for the bed as it only has a single sheet on the double bed. Way beyond my language ability level.
Ate lunch in a square in town. Strolled around but it was too hot to walk for long.
Dinner was nice but we had a grumpy waitress who threw down food, spilt drinks and scowled a lot. Probably does too much exercise.

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Sat on balcony and watched fireworks across the lake. They played classical musical and it was magical watching the reflections play across the water.

Day 4: Drove along side of lake and into Switzerland. Took about 2 hours. Beautiful scenery, even the kids thought it was good (“Looks like one of those posters which you know isn’t real. But it is!”) Went to St Moritz. Bit false, mainly hotels and designer shops. Had a lovely homemade soup and cheese sandwich lunch in a cafe.

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The family all went on a train and cable car up to the peak to look at the Alps. Becky got an altitude headache but they all said it was good.

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I got off the train at the first stop and tried to find Heidi’s house. No helpful signposts and I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for. The only possible contender I saw was pretty big. My image of Heidi’s grandfather was not multi millionaire. Maybe he extended it when her books became popular.
It was fairly chilly. I met other walkers, who were all wearing full hiking gear complete with boots and walking poles. Wondered if my silk skirt and sandals was inappropriate for mountain walking. Pretended I was local and looked at them like they were over dressed annoying tourists.
Walked down through pine forests, listening to cow bells. It was a mix of very lovely (as it grew warmer on the lower slopes) and a bit scary (because I was on a mountain all by myself without a clue as to where I was.)
When I got back to town my legs were shaking from walking downhill for so long! (Maybe I do need another gym visit.)
Went to co op and bought chocolate and cokes. Drove home after we managed to pay the car park ticket. The machine only took euro notes and we didn’t want swiss francs as change.

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On the way back we stopped at a lake. It was totally perfect. David and the boys stripped off and swam. Lots of squealing when they realised how cold the water was! Luckily no one had a heart attack and we made it back to hotel slightly damp, very hungry, but feeling we had had a good day.

Day 5: David went to the gym then restocked his protein with egg and cheese for breakfast.
Morning by pool, lunch in bar next door.
Spent the afternoon at Villa Carlotta. This is a villa, built in the seventeenth century for a Milanese marquis. It is now a museum and botanical garden.

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We were interested to see it as about fifty years previously, David’s grandparents had been and they had bought an ornament of the statue of Cupid and Psyche by Canova, which now belonged to us. They had the statue at the villa. (Not the original, in case you are wondering. One is in the Louvre in Paris, a second copy is in the Hermitage in St Petersburg and the plaster cast is in the Met in New York.)
We looked at the statue, took some photos (even though lots of signs told us not to) and bought another copy from the gift shop. It is not as well made as the model from fifty years ago, but only cost 16€ so seemed worth continuing the tradition.
The gardens surrounding the villa are very lovely and we spent some time wandering around. It would have been more enjoyable in a slightly cooler season.

Day 6: We took the ferry across the lake to Varrena. The ferries stop right next to the hotel and you constantly heard them announcing all their stops. It wasn’t particularly intrusive, they were only at certain times and not late at night, but whenever I now think about that hotel I hear the chant from the ferry information in my head. Shame they weren’t chanting something useful.

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Varrena is a little town on a hill, full of picturesque lanes and old fishermen cottages. We walked around and then bought slices of pizza which we ate on stone steps leading down to the water. We found a cafe next to the lake and had some very good pancakes before getting the ferry back to Menaggio.
After dinner we walked into town. There was extremely loud music in the car park next to the hotel until 2am. It was like trying to sleep in a night club. Gave up and danced on the balcony for a while.

Day 7: Woke tired and grumpy. David escaped to the gym (coward.)
Morning by the pool, boys did not emerge from their room.
Drove to a viewpoint overlooking Lake Lugano. It was a long drive and a very confusing map. Ate a not very nice ice cream when we got there.
After dinner, a pianist played next to the pool. We listened for a while and James swam (not sure if he was meant to. He didn’t have inflatable crocodile with him, so am hoping it didn’t detract from the music too much.)

Day 8: Packed and left. Drove back to Milan for the flight home. It was very difficult to find a petrol station to refill the hire car before we returned it. Finally bought extremely expensive petrol from a man selling ‘especially refined diesel’.
Flew home. A good holiday.