VIVA ESPAÑA
Barcelona has left an unbelievably positive impression on us both. It felt like it could easily be home with a huge mix of many ingredients. A big city without the feeling of congestion or pressure. It’s hard to encapsulate so many sights, sounds, and smells in a short story and I am not about to do it justice.Landing here on Saturday afternoon we jumped in a cab (they hate Uber) and made our way into the city in around 20 minutes or so.
Our driver told us he was the son of a Spanish father and a Dominican mom. He was born in the Dominican Republic but had shared his 50 or so years on this planet between both. This guy was a super happy soul and a very proud citizen of Barcelona.
I could not have had a better view. A 2-1 Barca lead was levelled by Real Madrid center forward and Welshman Gareth Bale in the second half that saw out 90 minutes and 10 minutes of injury time. Every one of those minutes were filled with the voices of Barca fans with their songs and cheers. At the final whistle I wandered slowly from the stands and met up with Dale in the agreed location. We revelled in the experience and then made our way home. So late to bed and early to rise. Our plane left Barcelona this morning for London at 7:10. It was a great flight on EasyJet once again with speedy boarding.
So here we are back in old blighty. The sun is out big time and we are gonna head for the train into town, the Grosvenor Hotel is our digs for the next couple of days.
Live Well!
The Children of the Corn and Lawrence
Leaving Victoria we were just a little stunned to be waved off by what appeared to be blue skies and sunshine. Regardless of this minor miracle we couldn’t stick around because we had to get to Seattle to change planes for London Heathrow and beyond.As most who fly regularly into SEATAC already know, landing there means dealing with the TSA. It begins with the instructions of a slack jawed troglodyte to recheck your already checked baggage and then subject yourself to a full cavity search. If they like what they see or touch you may proceed to the next stage in the process.Next comes the train that takes you on a magical mystery tour from terminal to terminal that actually turns out to be a waste of time and way faster to walk. We made it to the area of our connecting gate in terminal S and found a comfortable chair in a quiet nook of the departure lounge.For the first couple of hours it was joyous.
Then arrived a family of seven that appeared to be supervised by parents (and I use that word loosely) who couldn’t care less how much noise their children made, damage they caused or mayhem they created.All 5 kids appeared to be under 6 years old and were left to do as they thought fit while mom applied layer after layer of makeup and dad looked away in silence and what appeared to be regret. I will never know if they were from a flyover state, but I can almost guarantee you that somewhere in Iowa, there is an evil farmer’s corn field missing it’s horror movie children.At 6:30 we boarded British Airways flight 48 and took our seats in the 26th row. This does not sound like choice seating however for those frequent flyers that know the Boeing 777 it is.
As it turns out we were in the first row at an exit that provided more leg room than we could have used if we wanted. Our flight attendant was an example of the grooming standard set by British Airways. Lawrence was a man of mid to late 20’s and not only was his uniform impeccable but his recent hair cut, perfectly trimmed beard and manicured eyebrows spoke volumes. I knew several things about Lawrence just by taking time to listen to his softly spoken banter with other members of his team and the odd traveller. Foremost, at no time should I refer to Lawrence as Larry or Lar. Lawrence would not stand for it and was easily the most passive aggressive, surly slightly built man I would encounter for the next 9 ½ hours. I could sense that on most transatlantic flights Lawrence would have not been providing his standard of service to any passengers seated so far back as row 26.
Lawrence flew amongst those in rows 1-8 and as such was uncomfortable trying to make small talk with the plebs back here. I thought to myself at some point that I would try and take the chance to break the ice, however I was met with “do you want the butter chicken or the spinach ravioli? There isn’t much chicken left you should know.” “I’ll have the Chicken Lawrence”. That didn’t make Larry happy but c’est la vie.
We arrived a little before schedule and made our way through passport control in no time flat. Grabbing our bags we were whisked out of terminal 5 and into the Enterprise shuttle. We grabbed our Ford Focus diesel (side note it goes almost 700 miles on a tank.) and made our way for the M40 and north to the Lake District in the north west of England. Once past Lancaster we looked for the first opportunity to get off the motorway and into the lakes. We drove through slate roofed village after village that stunningly lined the southern lake shores. The sun was setting on our left over the water and the pub goers were starting to fill the sidewalks peeking in windows to investigate which one looked the best for dinner and a pint.
Many families and couples with their dogs all looking for the perfect Cumberland sausage with mashed potatoes and onion gravy. Windermere and Ullswater are absolutely jaw dropping and it’s clear to see why so many writers, painters and poets have made their way here over the years. We soon after arrived at the Dale Head Inn on Lake Thirlmere. The Inn is 300 hundred or so years in age but in great condition. We were welcomed by the manager/owner and not unlike my favourite episode of Fawlty Towers he advised us that the kitchen was closed and he couldn’t offer any food. I thought about the offer of cash for a Waldorf salad but I think that may have been rude.
But from every negative there is a positive and in this case we were directed back down the ¼ mile driveway to cross the dark road that brought us here. From there turn north for a hundred yards and we should find the King’s Head. This was an epic recommendation and we stepped inside to a roaring fire and the happy faces of the young bar staff who took our orders. Two pints of bitter and dinner was to be roast lamb and an outstanding gourmet burger. We relished the ambiance and made friends with those on either side of us and their dogs. After dinner and the short walk back to the Dales Head where we’re out like lights. The following morning found us early to rise (03:45 hrs, stupid jet lag) and we got our gear on. A flask of tea prepared in our room and back packs packed for our jaunt to Lake Buttermere. We left just before 6 and it took us around 45 minutes by car to arrive in the little village of Buttermere itself. We parked up in a National Trust parking lot and got our hiking boots on.
A 15 minute walk from the parking lot got us to the trail that goes around the lake. Dawn was breaking and we were the only ones there except for one landscape photographer clearly “catching the worm”. We stopped for a bit so I could set up my tripod and get my gear out for a few shots from this iconic location. I packed this gear all this way and after all that I forgot the bracket that attaches my camera to the tripod and my camera battery was on its last legs. Nice one genius. But as one does when one is faced with a challenge, they adapt and overcome. And just like Clint Eastwood in one of his lessor box office successes (Heartbreak Ridge), I did just that while Deanna paced the lake shore in a hypothermic state.
We soon rambled on for real and just shy of 9 kilometres later we were untying our boots back at the car park. We discussed the Ayrshire cattle that made little effort to get out of way on the trail and the spectacular scenery that surrounded us. Once put back together again we walked into the village to find a pub for a full English breakfast and a coffee to further our great start to the day. Job done! Half an hour later, after a superb meal and some lovely conversation with the publican. She told us that she and her husband had recently returned to the area after living 20 years abroad in South Carolina. Apparently Trump has this effect on people.
Having had the opportunity to travel to South Carolina a few years ago I know it is a very nice state, however if I had the choice of either there or where I spent my early morning I would choose Buttermere a hundred times over. We drove off to the west and our next stop was Ennerdale. I first had the good fortune to walk in to this town with Dale at the end of Day 1 of the Coast to Coast walk in 2015. Since then I have visited on three other separate occasions. I love this village as well. The community spirit is high and the area is breathtaking. We stopped in for tea and piece of Victoria sponge cake that I must admit may be near the top of the many reasons that keeps bringing me back. We had a great chat with the staff and left with a very wide smile on our faces.North to our next stop at the Ennerdale Brewery. A cheeky ½ pint of their finest each and back on the road to Keswick for a wander around the streets of this walker’s and climber’s nirvana. We parked, paid for parking and then I reached into the back of the car for my coat. I thought to myself, I hope the brewery is still open when we get back in 45 minutes to collect my coat from the chair I hung it on when we arrived their 2 hours ago. Being old is an affliction and as far as my memory goes I can’t remember when it went south (hahaha). So back in the car to collect the jacket just before the brewery office staff call it a day.
Mission accomplished and back to Keswick and the intended walk was next on the cards. The streets of Keswick are lovely. It is an outdoorsy village reminding me of Banff or Jasper on a smaller scale. We bought a few bits and pieces and then made our way back to the Dale Head to drop off our things before dinner back at the King’s. One more beautiful meal with great ambiance that set us on another crash course for sleep at all costs.Today we rose at a normal time and went down to the breakfast room for an awesome meal at a seat overlooking
Thirlmere Lake. We soon after packed up the car and set off for Perth in Scotland. About a 4 hour drive and kind of out of the way considering we are heading towards the Isle of Skye on the West coast of Scotland. Perth is not far north of Edinburgh and is not known for too much other than being a nice small city of 50,000 with a fantastic military museum and a lot of new car sales dealerships. Our reason for coming to Perth has nothing to do with loitering around new cars as you can imagine. No, in fact we are hear because Deanna knows how much I like a British comedian known as Stewart Lee. He is currently in the tail end of an 18 month tour of the UK and this gig just dovetailed perfectly into our trip. The tickets were a lovely Christmas present and tonight we grabbed a cab from our luxurious Perth Holiday Inn Express to the Perth Concert Hall for a 7:30 start. I can tell you that it is now 12:18 a.m. and my stomach is still sore from the incessant laughter of nearly three hours of Stew’s stand up routine. Stew can be found on YouTube, but I warn you to say if your sense of humour is not very dry and you don’t go in for hyper sarcasm just give him a miss. Tomorrow we head for Skye with several distilleries and castles in between.
EVERYONE ASKED IF I HAD SEEN THE ICEBERGS YET.
It is just under 4 hours from Anna’s garage to the Glacier lake known as Jokulsarlon. I left before sun-up around 8:30 this morning and I drove and I drove. I made a quick stop back in Vik to catch some different light down at the black beach. I think it was worth it.
By the time arrived at Jokulsarlon the sun was on its way back down. I have never chased light like this before for my photography. Seconds mean missing the perfect look or at least what I had Imagined.
I met a father around my age and his adult son. He asked where I was from and I told him expecting him to ask where is that. But no, he knew exactly where I was talking about. He and his family had traveled there by ferry twice in the last ten years. His son was wearing a Seattle Seahawks hat so I assumed that they were from the Pacific Northwest.
Wrong again. I asked where they were from and he responded Atlanta. He didn’t expect me to tell him I had been there twice for Baseball Showcase Tournaments. I then said we actually spent 90% of the time in Marietta just north of the ATL. He said that’s funny, that’s where we live. We stood about for thirty minutes in sub zero temperatures discussing our favorite Marietta restaurants and just occasionally icebergs and Iceland.Its a small world, remember that!Cheers,Mark
YOU LIKE THE PICO DE GALLO AMIGO?
Paco and I have become fast friends. Paco is our ever-present waiter at Caribeno. Caribeno is one of four dining options here at El Presidente. There is a Mediterranean option, an Italian option, a creperie and Caribeno. I can't even begin to tell you what the other places are like because I love Mexican food. And as the man once said "when in Rome", you know the rest. Life is a beach, and here on the Island of Cozumel you can't stray far from one. If you despise white sand and turquoise water you better get your travel agent to look elsewhere as this place has it in spades. Only on one other occasion have I travelled to Mexico and that was sadly in my youth. My hazed recollections of that trip are PC and not for anything like this little blog. The upshot of that long ago adventure was that I swore to myself, I would never again travel across two borders to the south. As it turns out tequila has lasting and negative side effects that can deter you from travelling to what has turned out to be paradise. This resort is to me an excellent example of purposeful serenity. Now I know if you are a friend of the Aga Khan, you can travel to a private Xanadu somewhere in the Caribbean where unichs wave palms overhead and you can inject yourself (photo-bomb in Trudeau speak) into everyone's family photos because you think you are cool. But I'm neither cool nor a former on-call drama teacher, so that's not gonna happen.
You know sometimes when you see places in a glossy travel magazine, you think to yourself that cannot be real. So this story unfolds. This place is exactly how it appears in print and on the net. It is unreal. This is not an all exclusive and the prices for food and beverage are similar to at home so there is no savings in that regard. One can always opt to stay at an all-inclusive when in the Caribbean but upon reflection and with no personal experience to make the following statement. "With inclusivity comes a different vibe". The vibe that I can barely recollect from my youth when cerveza flowed like water and senseless waste was everywhere. Along with that vibe comes drunken buffoonery. Pearly white men in jean cut offs (to the knee) walking proudly about with a smoke perched over each ear and a different camo ball cap for every day of their stay. And before you ask that was never then or now me!!!!
On this trip I didn't need that. I didn't need anything to raise my blood pressure. Day one was already close to dropping the elephant right in his tracks given my "little" oversight. So here I am. Nobody has raised my eyebrows as yet. No one has been insulting or negative or even neutral in their demeanour. Everyone we have had the pleasure to meet has been so gracious and welcoming and proud. If you leave your chez lounge for a second someone sprints over to change your towel or refill your water. I greet everyone with a strong positive Ola! In return I get one back with Señor or better yet amigo tacked on to the end.
Yesterday afternoon we wandered into town by Taxi to visit the Mega Store. The Mega is where the locals shop here on the island. It reminded me of a Coop store you would find in the UK or Switzerland. Whatever you can think of the Mega has it. Just to back up a bit we asked the bell captain to order us a local cab. We are several miles out of the centre of town but it took just a couple of minutes for Juan to arrive. Once again we were greeted by a man in his late 50's who wore the biggest smile and the most humble of personalities. Juan drove us into town in his white Chevy compact cab. For such a small car on the outside the interior was fit for three of me. Leg room o'plenty and with the windows down and 90 miles an hour who needs air con? It's probably time to qualify the abundance of leg room comment just made. Perhaps if Juan was over five feet tall I may have struggled.
A few minutes later and we were into the store and Juan stood by for our return. We loaded up with a cooler, 24 bottles of 2 litre water, 18 Corona, Queso, Jamon, Bread, flip flops (cause three days ago I was going to Japan), and several other items. Some of those items may have been corn chips and salsa verde.
Twenty minutes later we emerged and loaded our purchases into Juan's cab. Done and done and we headed back towards El Presidente'. On the way we passed countless locals riding two up on their scooters. No need for rider protection wear in this country. En route back we did have a moment of shock which turned out to be hilarity just as we passed the cruise ship port for the island. Clearly there is no sobriety test required to rent a jeep on this island as the following happened right in front of our eyes.
Two millennial females passed by us like we were standing still. One drove as the other thought it was appropriate to be taking numerous standing selfie videos on her Iphone. They both clearly thought a lot of themselves by their actions & demeanour . The pursed lips and the posing was a dead giveaway. It was just as big a surprise for us as it was to the standing millennial when her driver and former BFF smashed the brake peddle throwing her former and recently standing friend's face into the windshield. Let's just say her selfie career is going to have to be put on hold for a couple of years unless she can get back to Miami and see her plastic surgeon ASAP. Juan uttered a single word "stupido". I like Juan!
Today, breakfast brought huevos rancheros with a healthy amount of pico de gallo, I asked for seconds! You now know where today's blog title fell from. Today brings more sun and tropical breezes. Deanna is lying under a palm umbrella . Allistair is breaking in his snorkelling gear and I sit in the shade telling stories. Bueno!
OPULENCE, NOTHING LESS.
So here I sit with my feet up in my room 24 hours before I leave for Osaka. I am listening to the in room music service play classical guitar. Music soothes the savage beast they say. They must be right. I have not felt like yelling at anyone in several hours. I have no idea what the selection of canapés and beverages might look like when we cross the hall to the Gold Lounge. There is no apprehension here, I have trained myself for this showdown. Suffice to say I shan't be unhappy.yvrdeals.comwww.fairmont.com/VancouverAirport
A CHELSEA FAN?
SOMEONE HAS TO DO IT
When it comes to planning, one should always find a location that suits the needs of the planners. On Wednesday what suited us was a local brew pub that has been well thought of for many years. We arrived at Spinnaker's with a lot to do and the need to be refreshed while doing it.Our server was prompt and the order went in without much chatter. Soon after, we were basking in the glow of the amber nectar and turning our mind to contacting more B&B's and hotels to accommodate our weary feet on our epic journey. We sent out a bunch more emails and then turned our focus to rental cars, train tickets and best of all tickets for as many matches at the Rugby World Cup as we can reasonably afford. Lots of web surfing later we were closer to the goal for the evening. The rugby tickets were going on sale again on Friday morning so I would focus on being successful on the day! This is going to be awesome. This trip cannot come soon enough.