These posts are for anyone interested in the stuff that happens, and thoughts that occur to us as we roam the by-ways of England, Scotland and Europe. Like my family, for example, (at least, I think they’re interested).
It was February and we were hot. This was more like it! We'd finally escaped the English winter and made a bolt for the warmth of Morocco. For the next ten days, we wandered the maze of streets around the Marrakech Medina, got lost - a lot - and did a spot of...
February was as far as we could make it through the English winter of 2023/24. We hadn’t emerged from our hibernation cave for weeks, Russell’s golf clubs had rusted up, and I was in danger of permanently relocating my office to our bed.
We have now experienced three winters in the UK. Our first was magnificent: clear blue skies, no rain or sleet, gorgeous crisp days, and cosy log-fire nights. Our second was. . .meh, not so good. Our third has been downright bleak, and we’re only mid-way through. I’m an Australian. Get me out of here!
It’s probably fair to say I spent around six months planning a family reunion with my first cousins in Kent on 21st October 2023. I sent endless emails, found the (dog-friendly) venue, coordinated menus, and booked accommodation. Everything was going swimmingly until a couple of days before. That’s when Storm Babet hit.
You may have heard of Henley-on-Thames. It’s a 13th-century market town in Oxfordshire famous for its annual regatta. Henley Royal Regatta, founded in 1839, has only been interrupted by WWI, WWII, and COVID. It’s also where I grew up and went to school until the age of 13.
It all started when Russell watched a documentary about Great British railway journeys. “I want to do that one,” he said pointing at the TV. It was a day trip to the Snowdonia Mountains in Wales on board The Statesman. “OK,” I said, “Let’s go.”
I’ve always wanted to visit Amsterdam. My only knowledge of it had come from films and paintings – the canals and bicycles, the red light district, the Van Gogh Museum and the cannabis culture. In July 2023, we finally got there, and it was just as I imagined.
When I was a kid, my parents would regularly take me and my two brothers up to Scotland for a family holiday. Mum would wake us all at 4 am, bundle us into the back of the car, still wrapped in our duvets, and we would start the long, long drive north, arriving in Argyll in time for supper.
For the last couple of years, we have summered in the UK. In part because most parents take their little darlings to the Continent during July and August, and we would rather not join them. But mainly because the UK is just so fabulous in the sunshine. Granted, summer and sunshine don’t always go hand-in-hand, but when the two align, there’s nothing better.
In Part II of our Sicilian adventure, we left Taormina and headed 30 minutes down the coast to the twin villages of Aci Castello and Aci Trezza. Separated by a mile-long promenade, these laid-back fishing villages were a complete change of pace – a sort of Port Douglas on the Med, if you happen to know Port Douglas.