tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30847152955741508162024-03-21T10:24:25.281+00:00A Serendipitous AfricanI don't mind that it doesn't mean anything specific, I just like the word!LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-40082558114147159972018-10-07T00:11:00.000+01:002018-10-07T01:39:39.763+01:00A year of travel... the first six months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For those of you who know us, the title of this post may not be surprising at all given that we are generally known as the Globetrotters amongst our family and circle of friends, but this year was different. It didn't actually start out this way, but a belated idea for a New Years' Resolution turned it into a different kind of travel year. I call it a New Years' Resolution, but as it was made in the second half of January, I'm not sure it technically counts, but as I also fancy myself a bit of rebel, I rule that it counts. So nah.<br />
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So, what is the resolution? I need to go back a step before I can fully explain how it came to be. But to take that step back means writing a blog post that is still too difficult at the moment, is 10 months in the making so far, whirling around in my head because of all the posts I've ever written, I need to get that one right. And I can't right now, so in very brief summary, the resolution was borne out of the very sudden and unexpected passing of our lovely Steve, Dave's dad.<br />
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Skip to the awful days and weeks after it happened and I just wanted to wrap Dave in cotton wool for a bit. The only way I knew to do that was to take him away. Away from all the horribleness and give him some kind of reprieve. Away from the sudden, stark darkness at the end of the garden that still occasionally upsets us. Just away. The funeral was, after what seemed like an eternity, planned for the 13th February which coincidentally, in a way that has become strangely par for the course for us, is the anniversary of when Dave and I met 11 years ago. It somehow seemed fitting in a really absurd way. I had a feeling that all the waiting was bound to result in a bit of a Butterfly Effect and so decided to whisk my mourning man and our pup away to the New Forest for a weekend. What better place to revive and refresh the senses than a freezing cold South Downs National Park in the middle of Winter, right? <br />
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And so my New Years' Resolution was born... to get away from home for at least one weekend a month. It didn't need to be far, nor expensive, but just away. It also helped that we already had a few trips lined up, so my job was pretty much half done for me, to be fair. We have got to October and I realise now how crazy this idea was, even for us, but in true 'us' style, it also seems perfectly in keeping with who we are as a couple. Another reason for this to be the year for travel presented itself way further down the line, so can't genuinely be included as a motivation, however as I said before... rebel. But more about that later.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i> January</i></b></span><br />
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So, back to January and everything else aside, in terms of my NYR, January had sorted itself as we'd been in South Africa for Christmas and into the new year.<br />
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<b><i>Month one:</i></b> <br />
Weekends away: 1<br />
Weekend away tally: 1<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i> February</i></b></span><br />
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February's trip was meant to be a long weekend in Portugal, however under the circumstances, we postponed - not cancelled - as some companies are insensitive enough not to allow you to cancel for a full refund, despite the production of a death certificate. C'est la vie. And so to the New Forest, which is an easy 90-minute drive from home and meant no need to arrange any leave from work - another plus. So we jumped in the car as soon as I got home from work on the Friday evening and we were off. We stayed in a gorgeous dog-friendly B&B really close to the seafront and harbour. Lucy doesn't muck about and made herself right at home. <br />
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<b><i> Month two: </i></b><br />
Weekends away: 1<br />
Weekend away tally: 2<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i> March</i></b></span><br />
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My sister travels quite often for work and March found her in Barcelona... coincidentally, it is somewhere that has always been on our travel list, but always got relegated in favour of somewhere else deemed more exciting at the time. But this presented the perfect opportunity to finally hop across to Catalonia and see what all the fuss was about. <br />
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Well, as it happens, the rain in Spain doesn't always stick to the plains. It rains in Barcelona. A lot. Who knew, huh? So it was a soggy weekend, but a fun one all the same, spending some time with the sibling and meeting her awesome manager who lives in the most perfectly named place on the planet: Pleasanton in California. Sounds like something out of a Disney film. <br />
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The one thing I was looking very forward to on this trip was sampling the cuisine - I love a Mediterranean-style diet and really wanted proper tapas as the only tapas I've ever had comes on a "Buy 3 for 2" special at Tesco. After walking past and inspecting the menus of a few restaurants for dinner on the Friday night, we settled on one. As it happens, not a good one. You live and learn and the company more than made up for the less than mediocre food. <br />
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Breakfast at the hotel was plentiful and when faced with a plentiful breakfast buffet, I like to think that my stomach is bottomless. This is a true story - I eat about 7 times more from a breakfast buffet than I would on any ordinary day of my life. No idea how as 2 weetabix on a normal day keeps me going all the way through to lunch, but something about the luxury of having a chocolate mini muffin immediately after croissants filled with Nutella makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. But my point in all of this is that eating an enormous breakfast when we're travelling generally keeps us going until dinner time, so you know... cost saving. Because Dave has to visit Hard Rock Cafe in every city we go to that has one, we found ourselves cowering from the torrential downpour at the Hard Rock bar at 2pm, in the hour-long queue for a table waiting for the buzzy bleeper thing to start buzzing. We eventually ate at around 4pm and, because HRC serves supersized portions as standard, I declared myself full until sometime in 2020. And so with no need for dinner, another tapas opportunity escaped me. Sigh. <br />
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We left on the Sunday with no tapas opportunity presenting itself before we had to make our way to the airport, so I left Barcelona tapas-less and, quite frankly, disappointed at my tapas-less state of affairs. I did get some absolutely delicious freshly squeezed coconut and pineapple smoothies though, so I guess that counts for something. <br />
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<b><i>Month three:</i></b><br />
Weekends away: 1<br />
Weekends away tally: 3<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;"> April</span></i></b><br />
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April was another local getaway to the coast, again with the pup, who laps up any opportunity for a run on the beach and Swanage did not disappoint. <br />
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It was rainy, grey and a bazillion degrees below zero in the wind, but we were away from home and I just kept having to remind myself that that was the point. It happily afforded me the opportunity to catch up with a high school friend who now lives down that way, which was just an fab way to while away 3 really weather-miserable hours. We cosied inside a cafe for a meal and a chat and then gave the pups a run on the beach. I have to say, despite the weather, I was disappointed to find the ice cream shop closed for the season.<br />
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<b><i>Month four:</i></b><br />
Weekends away: 1<br />
Weekends away tally: 4<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;"> May</span></i></b><br />
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May was a pretty special trip, both because of the place we went, but also because of how it was made possible. Steve would almost certainly have worried sick about our choice of destination, but I sent a little thanks skywards to him every day that I saw Dave smile while we were there. <br />
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Jordan.<br />
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Wow. I had never really thought about Jordan before - in fact, I still probably couldn't confidently point it out on a map - but this was a Bucket List destination for Dave. His eyes lit up at every turn and he just absorbed the experience into every fibre of his being. To say we loved Jordan would be a mild understatement and, like Bosnia a number of years ago, I was so completely blindsided by it all. What an amazing country with fantastically friendly people and just breath-taking scenery.<br />
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We started out in the desert at a Bedouin Camp which is not for the faint-hearted nor anyone with a delicate disposition. I can describe the baseline experience with one word: flies. However, flying-poop-carriers-landing-on-your-food-constantly aside, the desert was a pretty special experience. It was about a billion degrees with no luxuries like aircon, or even a breeze, but there was something pretty special about being out in the middle of nowhere with just a couple of Bedouins, the stars, moon and a lifetime supply of sand to keep you company. No light pollution. No sound at all. Except if you count the eleventy thousand flies and mozzies. As I said... not for the faint-hearted.<br />
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The part that Dave was most looking forward to was Petra and it didn't disappoint. His face was like a kid whose birthday and Christmas had come at the same time, with a surprise visit from the Easter Bunny. What a place. <br />
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It's an entire day, again spent in what feels like a billion degrees, walking, trekking and glugging on any form of liquid you can get your hands on like your life depends on it (we spent £40 on drinks alone that day!), but all totally worth it in the end. When we planned this trip, some friends told us that we just HAD to trek to the Monastery, which is located at the top of the mountain, up over 900 very ancient steps. There's something you need to know about me... I don't hike. I don't run, jump, hike or do anything even remotely resembling strenuous exercise. The constant debate I have with myself when faced with more than 1 flight of stairs is whether I really want what's at the top or not. So the thought of climbing over 900 steps UP a mountain was just not even an option. Dave was always going to go on his own, it wasn't even a topic for conversation. So when we got all the way through Petra to the end of the site and, as it happens, the base of the aforementioned mountain, I was fully expecting to sit down in the shade and while away 2 hours whilst Dave exerted energy which, quite frankly, seemed too precious to me to exert. But... I found myself tagging along, just as moral support. I was not hugely impressed with everyone who opted to mount themselves on the back of a poor, desperately tired donkey to make that climb. Shame on you all! I heard one lady muttering 'poor donkey' whilst on the back of the poor thing.... go figure. At 200 steps I was still tagging along as I was still at 500. What was going on?! At about 876 though, that was me, I was done. I told Dave to go on and collect my body on the way back down and to make sure I was buried with chocolate. We stopped for a freshly squeezed fruit juice - lemon for Dave, orange for me - and asked the vendor how much longer it was to the Monastery, which I hoped to God after all of this actually existed. 10 minutes, he said. We'd been climbing for 35 at that point. So I now had to decide whether I believed this juicing aficionado or whether I wanted to hang out with the flies. I chose to stick with the tagging along and we eventually made it to see this...<br />
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My first words, and I quote, were "Is that it??" I mean, nobody even lives there?! For goodness' sake, I'd have at the very least expected a marching band and bloody cocktails with umbrellas and everything for all that effort! But instead we got flies. But admittedly, after cooling down as much as you can in Jordan in 45-degree heat after having trekked up a veritable Everest, I finally looked around and appreciated the view. My fitbit told me we'd walked nearly 18,000 steps to that point and the bloody hilarious* thing is that we had no option but to reverse the journey on foot. <br />
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*heart-stopping realisation<br />
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But first... I grabbed a perfect photo op of my man taking in his ultimate Bucket List destination.<br />
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The next stop was the Dead Sea, which was relaxing, but one of those things in life that you can see once and cross it off the list, although it was admittedly a very relaxing end to our trip. You're told to cover yourself in the mud and leave it on for 15 minutes for the detox fairies and elves to do their work. Well... I don't know about anyone else, but the second the mud was on was the same second that my internal oven switched itself to the 230 degrees with fan setting and I started baking. From the inside out. We barely had enough time to take this photo before running into the sea to get it off as quickly as possible. We look happy, huh? Yeah... boiling internal organs must release endorphins. <br />
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So... Dead Sea done and dusted, it was time to hit the hotel pool bar. Aaaaand... relax! <br />
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Jordan definitely gets our vote, it was a fantastic trip made even more amazing by seeing Dave that happy for the first time in 5 months. It's definitely one for the 'must go back' list.<br />
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<b><i>Month five:</i></b><br />
Weekends away: 1<br />
Weekends away tally: 5<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: large;"> June</span></i></b><br />
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Every June we make a trip over to the Isle of Wight music festival - it's become somewhat of a tradition and in recent years, our group has grown. Last year, my sister and brother-in-law added a few days in the UK onto their big European adventure to join us, which was so much fun. As it happens, they liked it so much, that another trip all the way from SA was planned this year to attend with us - not as part of a European adventure this time, although my sister was in between business trips in this hemisphere, which made it a no brainer! After years of trying to convince them, Dave's cousins also joined us, so it was a bit of a family affair. Flower crown in place, off we went. From Sheryl Crow to Liam Gallagher, Depeche Mode to The Killers, Nile Rodgers & Chic to Manic Street Preachers... it was a fantastic weekend of music just as it is every year. And this year, the weather played ball and was lovely and warm with no need for the waterproofs at all. There is always, however, the need for a second mortgage to afford any of the food and drink, but that's how they get you... they ensure that the beer is flowing freely enough to avoid anyone noticing the rapid depletion of their bank balances until they've arrived back on the mainland.<br />
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<b><i>Month six:</i></b><br />
Weekends away: 1<br />
Weekends away tally: 6<br />
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And that, dear readers, brings me to the end of the first half of the year, resolution intact (which I can't quite believe). I'm not sure about anyone else, but I don't remember a single resolution that I've ever been able to keep, so let's hope the rest of the year pans out!<br />
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And to answer the two most common questions I get:<br />
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Yes I have a job.<br />
No we haven't won the lottery.<br />
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For those of you who were subscribed to it, I know I'm 21 months late on updating <a href="http://serendipitousafrican.blogspot.com/2016/04/an-update-on-travel-blog-that-never-was.html">The Travel Blog that Never Was</a>... I'll resurrect and update it as soon as I can!</div>
LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-61882144003222217032016-12-17T01:55:00.000+00:002016-12-18T23:31:32.175+00:00It only happens to other peopleYou know what it's like - you're young, thinking about your future, who you'll end up with, where you will live and what you'll be doing in 5, 10, 20 years' time. I was never a child who envisaged every detail of her wedding day, I always just lived in the moment and kind of figured it would all work out the way it was meant to eventually. The older I get, the more that idyllic picture becomes fuzzy, not as clear and definitely doesn't fit in with the timeline I had in my head. <br />
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I've recently become increasingly aware of my age, strange as that may seem. It's always been a foreign concept to me, probably because I'm incredibly lucky to still have friends I met at the age of 8 in my life. When you grow up with the same people, all growing up at the same time, turning a year older in quick succession alongside each other, you all just seem to remain the same age, never get older, always feel as though you're 'forever young'. Unfortunately, when it comes to that idyllic picture, if it includes children, the 'forever young' plan comes to a screeching halt at some point, because you realise that that pesky timeline is stretching further and further out and it's not something that you have much control over.<br />
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I never wanted to be an older mom. There has always just seemed to be time before now, but on the eve of my 37th birthday it hit me, this was the age by which I said I had to have children or this was it. It broke me. At the dinner table. With Dave looking on.... pretty horrified. Not out of embarrassment (I hope!), but because the tears just came from nowhere and he was concerned about this sudden flood of emotion from his (not normally overly dramatic) wife. I couldn't explain it at the time and I still can't, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop the tears flowing.<br />
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Infertility has been an annoying dark cloud hanging above our heads for the past almost 6 years. That's what it's been... an annoyance. Most of the time, I manage to ignore it and the shadow it casts, but every now and then, it sucks me in and the cloud and I have a bit of a face-off. I'm healthy. I've never broken a bone in my body. I can't remember the last time I had a cold or 'flu. I have never had the need to maintain a skin routine - up until I few years ago, I used to wash my face with shower gel. I used to have a washboard stomach - nobody who has met me in the past 6 years would ever believe that. I was once fit. I was a dancer for 16 years of my life, dancing 6 days a week, sometimes 6 hours a day. In between that, I fit in the swimming team, as well as the diving team. I also did the occasional high jump and athletics race, although I was definitely far from good at it. I was always more comfortable in my tap shoes or in any one of my dance classes (except ballet... because pointe shoes are created by evil goblins who hate feet) . I hate not feeling fit anymore, but I'm largely healthy, despite not having that level of energy anymore. In fact, apart from a minor form of skin cancer which is kept under control with regular check-ups and the occasional surgery, I'm absolutely fine. And I don't mean that in the usual, girly way of saying '<i><b>I'm fine</b></i>' when they're clearly not, I genuinely mean that I'm fine. Throughout the past 6 years, all my tests have been perfect. There is nothing to report. Now comes the 'but'. The exception to all of this is that I am significantly overweight. That's not healthy. For 6 years, I have gone to various GPs, raising concern over my significant weight gain since coming off the pill to try to conceive, to be met with very little in the way of guidance, help or support. I have tried eleventy million different diets, detoxes and eating plans, most to much the same effect - I'll lose a few pounds, but nothing significant enough to make a difference and I have yet to find a plan that feels like the lifestyle change it needs to be to work for me. <br />
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If you've followed my blog or know me personally, you'll know that I was sort-of diagnosed, then un-diagnosed and then re-diagnosed with PCOS. I'm serious. It took 5 years, 4 fertility specialists and about 6 GPs to land on a diagnosis of PCOS. Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome unbelievably affects 1 in 10 women of childbearing age. We are definitely not alone, but it certainly feels it. I'll start with the 2nd fertility specialist we saw, just to get him out of the way for the purposes of this story, because I hate giving him even a second of my brain space. The first thing he said to Dave and I after '<i>Hello</i>' was '... <i>so I'm guessing you've come to me for a second opinion because you think I can work miracles</i>'. Well, he got crossed off the list with lightening speed! I separate him out, because he is the only specialist who hasn't uttered some frustratingly annoying words to me - mainly because all he saw was a me-shaped puff of smoke when I beat a hasty exit from his office after his <strike>amazing</strike> appalling bedside manner, that he didn't have the time to no doubt give me the sage advice that all of the others gave. All of the rest of them have sent me away with 1 of 2 pieces of advice. '<i>Keep doing what you're doing</i>' and, the more popular option, '<i>Come back and see me when you've lost some weight</i>'. Don't even get me started on the first piece of amazingly unhelpful advice but let me explain just one problem I have with the second. Telling me to go away and lose weight immediately followed by a '<i>Nice to meet you</i>' and absolutely nothing else that is of any use to me is like telling me to pack a bag and hike to the top of Mount Everest without ever having hiked, nor ever having had any snow training (is that a thing?). When you have PCOS, losing even 1 pound and keeping it off, feels like an insurmountable challenge. Is it really that much to ask for a little guidance from the specialists who have the medical knowledge to diagnose me? I am not telling a word of a lie - with Dave as my witness - when I say that I was actually told, by a private specialist, to go and do the water/lemon/cayenne pepper drink thing in order to lose weight. Oh... and these words actually came out of his mouth... '<i>Have you heard of the cabbage soup diet?</i>'. I actually had no idea what to say (although some choice words were going on in my head... mom, I promise I've never said them out loud *fingers crossed behind my back*), but I think my 'Cabbage is the devil's food' face told him what he needed to know about my opinion on the subject of all things <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cruciferous_vegetables" target="_blank">cruciferous</a>. Which is unbelievable in itself, given that my hatred of cabbage was the least of my concerns with this really, really poorly advised plan of action. I learnt way too late that '<i>go away and lose weight</i>' is doctor code for '<i>prove to me how serious you are about having a baby</i>'. If a patient returns to them having duly lost weight, they take them on for assisted conception treatments. The real problem I have with this is that I COULD go on the cabbage diet (my taste buds are dying just at the thought). I could also go on the vomit-inducing lemon and cayenne pepper drink thing, but how are either of those diets going to give my body the energy and nutrients it needs to successfully carry a baby to term? It is so irresponsible, I can't even begin to understand how it is given out so freely and with a straight face, but yet it happens. All the time. <br />
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It is so difficult to explain to someone what having PCOS feels like on a daily basis. It also presents itself so differently in those who suffer from it that no two accounts will be the same. For me, it's like starting a diet every Monday. But unlike with a diet, where you can identify where you went wrong - like falling off the wagon after that last cheat day; or you didn't do enough exercise or you stopped going to the gym - this, and particularly with unexplained infertility, is like starting a diet every week, falling off the wagon, but not knowing when, where or how nor, more importantly, how to get back on it and just getting completely run over by the wagon and all of the horses pulling it. And then there's the feeling that you're the only one going through it, even though logically, you know that's not true. It's like you're at a birthday party which you can't invite anybody else to. To invite anybody would be to invite messages of sympathy which - conversely - is like a red rag to a bull for someone struggling with infertility. We fancy ourselves superheroes, able to get through it all alone. It's a constant cycle of gritted teeth smiles, feelings of despair, overwhelming loneliness and, thankfully for me, only the occasional tear shed. So here we all are, 1 out of every 10 of us in the UK alone, all at our own individual parties. Sounds lonely, huh? It's really difficult to articulate it any other way. It shouldn't be something to be ashamed of, but even sharing with my husband when I'm feeling down about it is difficult. I know some of you reading this will think '<i>What? You should be able to share anything with your husband of all people. You must not have a very strong marriage!</i>'. For me, and I am almost certain I am not alone in dealing with it this way, I love him and don't want to see him in pain. It feels natural to me not to share with him every single time I feel this way, because if he knew I felt like this, he'd feel the same pain and I want to shelter him from that. I don't want him to be upset or hurt because quite frankly, there is nothing he can do about it so for the most part, I take one for Team Us and spare him. I share only when I need to, and mostly to spare myself, because I never feel more exposed and vulnerable than when discussing this with him. It is almost the only time I shed tears over it. This isn't the case for everybody, but for us, we are happy with our lot. A child would be the cherry on top, but the lack of one will not break us and that is a decision we made when it first became clear that we'd struggle on this particular journey. So why do I feel at my most vulnerable when discussing this with my husband of all people? Well, simply because as a woman of a particular age, no matter what we've decided as a couple, it still comes as a blow that I can't give my husband a child.<br />
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I read a blog earlier this week that was almost word-for-word, the same as something that has been going around in my head for ages. It talked about all the '<i>at leasts</i>' you get when you're struggling with infertility which struck a chord with me because it is just so true. For me, it's almost always '<i>At least you have Dave...</i>'. If you are reading this and have said that to me, then please know, from the bottom of my heart, that I know that it is well-intended and meant as support. But it's counter-intuitive. If I didn't have Dave, I wouldn't feel the way I do about it. Then I get to thinking about what I've actually lost. Nothing tangible, that's for sure. It's the 'forever young' picture, the possibility of something that was always meant to happen. Losing that ideal is not supposed to happen to us, it only happens to other people. <br />
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Things have a funny way of working out. When I think back on it all now, I can see that there is a lot of truth to the old adage that everything happens for a reason. Had everything gone to my 'forever young' plan, we'd have a 5 year old, and potentially one a little younger. 3 years ago, almost to the date, Dave's dad collapsed and was very ill in hospital, to the point that the doctors were telling us to prepare ourselves. He recovered, but due to his health concerns, he had to come and live with us. At the time, we lived in a small 3-bedroom cottage in a tiny village in Hampshire. Had all gone to plan, we'd have had a 2-year old, us and my disabled father-in-law in a cottage with 1 bathroom. Then, 9 months later, my mother-in-law collapsed with a brain aneurysm, which keeps her incapacitated to this day. At the time, Dave was working in Reading, I was working where I am now in Hampshire and my mother-in-law was in hospital in South London. Dave and I used to make a 4-hour round-trip to visit his mother for about 20 minutes at a time, often getting home after 9pm, then still needing to prepare dinner and wind down for the day, ready to do it all again the next. Our child would have been nearly 3. 20 months ago, Dave lost his job in an industry he loved, but that was declining drastically and continues to flail. Despite desperate efforts to find something else, he wasn't successful. During the same year, our child would have needed to start school, with all the costs associated with it. Life has a funny old way of saying '<i>I told you so</i>' in retrospect.<br />
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Going through infertility treatment and being on this unexplained infertility journey in general has been confusing, frustrating and overwhelming and I am just so thankful that I am as grounded and naturally positive as I am, because I can't imagine going through this with the weight of the world on my shoulders and I genuinely feel for those kindred souls who are, perhaps, a little less resilient than I am. Dave and I have had our bad patch, 3 years went by when things just went wrong in quick succession and there was very little to keep our chins up about, but we held onto each other through it, propping each other up and are now past that, through the tunnel and staring into the sunshine on the other side. I never want to turn back, that's for sure! For starters, that's not where the finish line is, but apart from anything, what we've been through has got us to where we are now - facing the next chapter together, stronger than we were, but also a little bit older and hopefully a little wiser. With that, comes a sprinkle of realism that maybe kids are not in our future. We've still not given up hope, but if that turns out to be the case, we'll be okay. At least we have each other, right? That's one '<i>at least</i>' that I don't mind so much.<br />
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LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-56906628386135951942016-09-02T14:21:00.000+01:002016-10-06T14:55:15.479+01:00It's only hair...The title of this post is a flippant statement that you or I might make when we get our hair cut. Turn the tables and look at it from the perspective of someone who is facing losing theirs and you can see how that simple statement could be turned into a frustrated question. It's only hair?! <br />
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I've just done something that I've never really thought about before. I've donated my hair to charity to help people who face losing theirs to various medications - the people that spring most easily to mind are cancer patients (read: Superheros) undergoing chemotherapy and radiation.<br />
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To give you a bit of background as to why I decided to do this, it's worth pointing out that I, selfishly, initially wanted only to help <strong>1 person</strong> in particular. <br />
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My younger cousin has recently been diagnosed with <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paget%27s_disease_of_the_breast" target="_blank">Paget's Disease</a> and will shortly be undergoing all of the horrible medication cycles associated with The Big C. As you can imagine, one of the first things that initially worried her was the potential to lose her hair through having the treatment, and so, in her typically proactive, upbeat and positive way, she got on the case with 'Project Wig' almost immediately. I won't tell her story for her, you can read more about it below.<br />
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Pause at that point and take one step back to a couple of months ago where, at a Charity Day at work, I won a voucher to have my hair cut and blow-dried at a local salon. It's not my usual salon, so I didn't really think too much about using the voucher until a couple of weeks ago when I decided that I could probably do with a bit of a pre-Autumn spruce. I remembered the voucher and, like a light bulb going on, an idea came to me. I sent my cousin a message to ask if I could donate my hair for use in her wig. Because she's so on the ball, talks around her wig are already in progress, but she said 'why don't you donate your hair anyway?'. I thought about it and thought 'why not?'. It won't be of any use to me once it's cut. And so began the process of researching where and how I could go about doing this. <br />
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One company, who will remain anonymous for the purpose of this specific blog post, was a no-go immediately for their discriminatory policies and, after looking through the remaining few, I opted for <a href="http://www.littleprincesses.org.uk/" target="_blank">The Little Princess Trust</a>. This charity provides real hair wigs for children suffering with hair loss and was the only one I came across which doesn't pay you for your hair. I don't know why, but being paid for hair that I'm donating for someone else to benefit from made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but to each their own. I'm not in a position to stand in judgment, but personally speaking, it's just not for me. <br />
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Having carefully washed, but not conditioned, my hair as per the donation guidelines on the morning of the cut, I made sure to pack my plastic bag to put the hair into straight away and off I trotted after work to the salon. Turns out, they're old hats at this and even offered me a plastic bag of their own! My stylist had a brief conversation with me about why I was doing this and what I wanted my eventual cut to look like. She then said to her colleague, 'Please can you grab me the clippers?'. GULP. Clippers? Aren't those used by men to shave their heads?? I remained silent, because these people know what they're doing, right? RIGHT?? I just sat back whilst she took a razor to my hair. <br />
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She hesitated before she started and looked at me and said 'You don't seem bothered by this at all!', to which I replied that I wasn't. It didn't phase me in the slightest. Why? All together now... because 'it's just hair'. It'll grow back and, with any luck, I'll be able to do this again next year. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVv_8hyl5rzefiZYAMQlgP8J13N8WHwoSPuY2CH4hpspj09apusjZwJ_Ux2keqDeyIUOcu40hqO30S0Ro789y_8AtDU0W9a5CCjIBmbXgbQ6AJM91QDjqocHnh0LO30ORI73dMX31O2eQ/s1600/IMG_20160901_173952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVv_8hyl5rzefiZYAMQlgP8J13N8WHwoSPuY2CH4hpspj09apusjZwJ_Ux2keqDeyIUOcu40hqO30S0Ro789y_8AtDU0W9a5CCjIBmbXgbQ6AJM91QDjqocHnh0LO30ORI73dMX31O2eQ/s320/IMG_20160901_173952.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And I was right... she knew just what she was doing!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJkspktNbFl9bD-8laGpgZZfMbX4bA2Svv-JulyJsRVmNyUqZrkbdF7r_PYSlSIWolVkQWyy3RMu95LF_-Lrf5bLT5J4DII9rc4vA7CoL0AhRCEP65UvnNZocu4hu65_bBZuoDDSvib8/s1600/IMG_20160901_181942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyJkspktNbFl9bD-8laGpgZZfMbX4bA2Svv-JulyJsRVmNyUqZrkbdF7r_PYSlSIWolVkQWyy3RMu95LF_-Lrf5bLT5J4DII9rc4vA7CoL0AhRCEP65UvnNZocu4hu65_bBZuoDDSvib8/s320/IMG_20160901_181942.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And so it is that a voucher won at a work Charity Day enabled me to Pay It Forward to a deserving charity who will be able to make use of something that I'd have ordinarily referred to as 'only hair'. Even if I didn't already like the word so much, I'd still call that <em><strong>serendipity</strong></em>.<br />
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For me, at this moment in time, it is 'only' hair... and for a newly discovered reason, I'm incredibly grateful to be able to say that.<br />
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For more information on my cousin's journey, please take a look at her blog by clicking <a href="http://itsnotdermatitis.blogspot.co.uk/?m=1" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSxyQzon591vCW1bcmbxKYs-Bk81psFKLw1JTBxBLFGNHmVwjGkYJc1rDJD_Nwlp7V7YCinpMV4v8b0jd4hiZbFZG1HuVpWrzXFdLtKQWWLQdn9MRgdQMA_H6jBgGixeCffxOeZUNlbs/s1600/Screenshot_20160902-134425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSxyQzon591vCW1bcmbxKYs-Bk81psFKLw1JTBxBLFGNHmVwjGkYJc1rDJD_Nwlp7V7YCinpMV4v8b0jd4hiZbFZG1HuVpWrzXFdLtKQWWLQdn9MRgdQMA_H6jBgGixeCffxOeZUNlbs/s320/Screenshot_20160902-134425.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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UPDATE: 6th October 2016</div>
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Today marks the first day of Sarah's treatment as well as her birthday! Not a nice way to spend your birthday, but as I've said to her, if anyone can get through their first treatment with a smile (and red lippy) on their birthday, she can!</div>
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I received this a couple of weeks' ago, which was a nice surprise.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bDTwSzikEn4oZhiouMEBXI5h0-8gPoj3qe_08D4aGwzr_rttDHmJXze9cGjFcRznSglconSNswzbNEYXLTPS66bCnWZYSUt1_TC6d-Bp-YzltwZLpGvc756i90i7Av3hyphenhyphen6qucZmIZq4/s1600/20161006_122223.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bDTwSzikEn4oZhiouMEBXI5h0-8gPoj3qe_08D4aGwzr_rttDHmJXze9cGjFcRznSglconSNswzbNEYXLTPS66bCnWZYSUt1_TC6d-Bp-YzltwZLpGvc756i90i7Av3hyphenhyphen6qucZmIZq4/s320/20161006_122223.png" width="222" /></a></div>
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LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-45305921746276746982016-05-13T19:37:00.000+01:002016-05-13T19:37:38.073+01:00I have a very talented hubby!I have often thought about adding a page to my blog to shout about Dave's photography. He's so quietly humble about it, but I'm pretty proud of him! He posts them on social media. but some of my family aren't 'connected', so I thought I'd post his most recent one here because it's just too amazing not to share.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyguf9hGPfwwEAf8LO4VZEQTQhVyTr_Y47EJOAL4oIXGr6ip1SnxHINxUbi7ljWgN9E1ABHYtGm6YGrsuV3Hin5IJV6Enz6jn50FJgEzbz1WgTpsuCUmwiHnwtvcgVyRuijELM1PcUEo/s1600/Dragonfly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyguf9hGPfwwEAf8LO4VZEQTQhVyTr_Y47EJOAL4oIXGr6ip1SnxHINxUbi7ljWgN9E1ABHYtGm6YGrsuV3Hin5IJV6Enz6jn50FJgEzbz1WgTpsuCUmwiHnwtvcgVyRuijELM1PcUEo/s640/Dragonfly.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Good, huh?</div>
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Oh, what the hell, now that I'm shouting about it, here are a few more that he's taken recently.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSnDwgvtAWajfCcZZWmDOmM1J6a03Mcc-kHQADC8tpqmb5tGDqFN2pcx1SgQ9KEAMnu7bgcEJX5LtCSumiBF-8dqhw_euMf1ibNEUV7hsrO29IpKoKxnJm9uxEi5yeKPbqlqdjchoBq2k/s1600/Lucy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSnDwgvtAWajfCcZZWmDOmM1J6a03Mcc-kHQADC8tpqmb5tGDqFN2pcx1SgQ9KEAMnu7bgcEJX5LtCSumiBF-8dqhw_euMf1ibNEUV7hsrO29IpKoKxnJm9uxEi5yeKPbqlqdjchoBq2k/s640/Lucy.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEged72HYxTMz0gi-3yR0MvLoLLNcC-80GdHiMtBQaI2UGp8hmDEjweVHOjcWY2c9Awp427FKME8HLrlNxxzS_v_3cU7DAEmrKRgnyjjXIKf2qILWnv1X3ZOflXvIBBpMpMIpUvgw2JYMCU/s1600/Summer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEged72HYxTMz0gi-3yR0MvLoLLNcC-80GdHiMtBQaI2UGp8hmDEjweVHOjcWY2c9Awp427FKME8HLrlNxxzS_v_3cU7DAEmrKRgnyjjXIKf2qILWnv1X3ZOflXvIBBpMpMIpUvgw2JYMCU/s640/Summer.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVRErpT5i454cLw5Wq-W-DC3ygoIoPvbUzcVfQicyFMfEt8gB6RYwSYnZ-2yiOfvnrisiPamOCgvQg9HQ4XXr1Ze7VOG6xbklBuxhp8bp96BKoGHCLjWG6DkFkxttF4zeRxPljbs96TdA/s1600/Wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVRErpT5i454cLw5Wq-W-DC3ygoIoPvbUzcVfQicyFMfEt8gB6RYwSYnZ-2yiOfvnrisiPamOCgvQg9HQ4XXr1Ze7VOG6xbklBuxhp8bp96BKoGHCLjWG6DkFkxttF4zeRxPljbs96TdA/s640/Wedding.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And my personal favourite....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp37AGJCU_b9luKGr8JcgLdCr7POgFqgYK-w9xhl39L01_fQ4wjqEQOiOaTYRG-ZkGYudSXccFM9TaO9PFDVol6aSSxiqh7ZhrXzEC8DbVo1xqKwcbwfulp8X6FIbIMe8YAHCQlmJZ6xg/s1600/Girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp37AGJCU_b9luKGr8JcgLdCr7POgFqgYK-w9xhl39L01_fQ4wjqEQOiOaTYRG-ZkGYudSXccFM9TaO9PFDVol6aSSxiqh7ZhrXzEC8DbVo1xqKwcbwfulp8X6FIbIMe8YAHCQlmJZ6xg/s640/Girls.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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What y'all think? </div>
LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-11338757137063628332016-05-12T21:11:00.001+01:002016-05-13T19:38:19.318+01:00Decisions, decisions...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxntfYdxEMyMSSzK4Unrm9QQoBmgW6bQ8pLa9uvao86Z8_8ux9YunrETRvF2pyCDfgaBi0wcSHDDoslkLh1WirB0_yLWyW9TFvgjtpsnlOAT_ilBAd_9YG_Mo3Qa96QLxfThcqT_7DVA/s1600/coin_wide-573c40728e93324aab5a35a363941a45870fb13b-s900-c85.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxntfYdxEMyMSSzK4Unrm9QQoBmgW6bQ8pLa9uvao86Z8_8ux9YunrETRvF2pyCDfgaBi0wcSHDDoslkLh1WirB0_yLWyW9TFvgjtpsnlOAT_ilBAd_9YG_Mo3Qa96QLxfThcqT_7DVA/s320/coin_wide-573c40728e93324aab5a35a363941a45870fb13b-s900-c85.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The title of this blog post seems like it's going to be a deep and meaningful one, but it's not. I just read something today that I loved and I've gone back to it over and over again... not because I have any burning decisions to make, but because I love the simplicity of the instruction.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"If you are ever stuck choosing between two things, simply flip a coin. Not because it chooses for you, but because for those few seconds that the coin is in the air, you know what you are hoping for."</i></span></div>
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Sounds pretty simple, right? It seems a good way to alleviate the stress of decision-making. Put all your faith in a coin... and for a few seconds, the power of your own mind and heart. Isn't that the typical power struggle though? Heart vs mind. </div>
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I'm going to try to remember to apply this simple logic next time I'm stuck and see which one screams the loudest.</div>
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By the way, I have no idea who authored this, so kudos to whomever it is due.</div>
LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-58256664245225618582016-04-16T13:01:00.004+01:002016-05-13T19:39:18.332+01:00An update on the Travel Blog That Never Was<div>
This post will mainly serve as an aide memoire for me for posterity, given that it was three and a half years ago now that I vowed to keep up with my travel blog by kicking it off with a post about our travels up to that point. Well, a little like I described in that post about the numerous attempts at a travel blog before that, my idea never really lifted off. It really tried, bless its little soul, it really begged, bugged, popped itself as an idea every so often into my brain, but it's owner and author couldn't keep up. Yes, that's me. *she types with one hand whilst guiltily lifting the other*. </div>
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So... a refresher on that post and subsequent trips that did get time devoted to them before I move on:<br />
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<a href="http://serendipitousafrican.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/the-travel-blog-that-never-was.html" target="_blank">The travel blog that never was - October 2012</a></div>
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<a href="http://serendipitousafrican.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/a-long-weekend-in-normandy-verdict.html" target="_blank">Normandy, France - October 2012</a></div>
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<a href="http://serendipitousafrican.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/a-weekend-in-snowy-slovenia-and-all.html" target="_blank">Ljubljana, Slovenia - December 2012</a></div>
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<a href="http://serendipitousafrican.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/happy-new-year-from-switzerland.html" target="_blank">New Year in Switzerland - December 2012</a></div>
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<a href="http://serendipitousafrican.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/a-warm-winter-break-to-iceland.html" target="_blank">Reykjavik, Iceland - March 2013</a></div>
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<a href="http://serendipitousafrican.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/under-tuscan-slightly-overcast-on-most.html" target="_blank">Tuscany, Italy - May 2013</a></div>
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<a href="http://serendipitousafrican.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/i-heart-cornwall.html" target="_blank">Cornwall, England - May 2013</a></div>
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<a href="http://serendipitousafrican.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/my-beautiful-south-africa.html" target="_blank">South Africa - May 2013</a></div>
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And whilst going through this list, I have realised that I drafted up 2 further travel blogs - one for Croatia, Bosnia & Montenegro in September 2013 and one for our Thanksgiving trip to the US in November of the same year and I never finished them. I guess it's kind of understandable since December 2013 is when Dave's dad fell very ill and we needed to make some pretty quick decisions about our - and his - living situation which meant that most other stuff just had to be put on the back burner for a while or cancelled altogether (including, ironically, an anniversary trip to Helsinki that year), but I just can't believe that I didn't finish what I had fully intended to post. </div>
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Just for the record, they were entitled "Beautiful Bosnia, mad Montenegro and chilled Croatia... all in a mini road trip!" and "An American Tale and a home away from home for the holidays".</div>
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So whilst they don't have their own posts, they are included in my renewed list of travels with photo album links below, in continuation of the Travel Blog That Never Was (aka The TBTNW). </div>
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Ready? Right... deep breath... here we go!</div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152896528970696.1073741830.805390695&type=1&l=79c8178753" target="_blank">Durban, South Africa - May 2013</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152896581015696.1073741831.805390695&type=1&l=da9bdb043f" target="_blank">Cape Town, South Africa - May 2013</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10153253437855696.1073741834.805390695&type=1&l=fa1236a51f" target="_blank">Mostar, Sarajevo & Trebinje, Bosnia - September 2013</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10153259307435696.1073741835.805390695&type=1&l=6422b731cd" target="_blank">Montenegro - September 2013</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10153267806020696.1073741836.805390695&type=1&l=367f57172b" target="_blank">Dubrovnik, Split & Trogir, Croatia - September 2013</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10153516323995696.1073741840.805390695&type=1&l=edec0a397a" target="_blank">Philadelphia, USA - November 2013</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10153516324625696.1073741841.805390695&type=1&l=ef2c2bbeb0" target="_blank">Washington DC, USA - November 2013</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10153516323085696.1073741839.805390695&type=1&l=f0885073b0" target="_blank">New York, USA - November 2013</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10153516325745696.1073741842.805390695&type=1&l=c72e17c158" target="_blank">Thanksgiving in New Jersey, USA - November 2013</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10153575666715696.1073741843.805390695&type=1&l=61a3f9fb5a" target="_blank">Shannon's visit to the UK - December 2013</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154003699040696.1073741844.805390695&type=1&l=2e60619ae1" target="_blank">Bangkok & Nong Khai, Thailand - April 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154023041635696.1073741848.805390695&type=1&l=8342bda1c6" target="_blank">Vientiane & Luang Prabang, Laos - April 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154007241320696.1073741846.805390695&type=1&l=66f651a551" target="_blank">Siem Reap & Angkor Wat, Cambodia - April 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154043894000696.1073741849.805390695&type=1&l=013b21ab79" target="_blank">Phnom Penh & The Killing Fields, Cambodia - April 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154060232375696.1073741850.805390695&type=1&l=aeb6106581" target="_blank">Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon), Da Nang & Hoi An, Vietnam - April 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154070634705696.1073741851.805390695&type=1&l=a4425871b4" target="_blank">Hanoi & Halong Bay, Vietnam - April 2014</a></div>
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One Tree Hill Convention: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154700980675696.1073741854.805390695&type=1&l=d05f29d33b" target="_blank">From Wilmington To Paris, France - September 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154794767955696.1073741856.805390695&type=1&l=83f67583fa" target="_blank">Berlin, Germany - November 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154839209840696.1073741857.805390695&type=1&l=8862f72313" target="_blank">Milan, Italy - November 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154861964775696.1073741858.805390695&type=1&l=7912ad1284" target="_blank">Isle of Wight - December 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154913860635696.1073741859.805390695&type=1&l=87925d4968" target="_blank">Etosha & Windhoek, Namibia - December 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154944305095696.1073741860.805390695&type=1&l=c43a7ed0c6" target="_blank">Durban, South Africa - December 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10155033948155696.1073741861.805390695&type=1&l=d3d905a12c" target="_blank">Cape Town, South Africa - December 2014</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10155469479790696.1073741862.805390695&type=1&l=9ded584de0" target="_blank">Oslo & Sandefjord, Norway - May 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10155945452715696.1073741866.805390695&type=1&l=0962f4d741" target="_blank">Santiago & Valparaiso, Chile - August 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10155957924150696.1073741867.805390695&type=1&l=ae50dcc9dd" target="_blank">Wilmington, NC, USA - August 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156095564250696.1073741868.805390695&type=1&l=2f782ee9e0" target="_blank">Stockholm, Sweden - October 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156201745520696.1073741869.805390695&type=1&l=fffc4dd843" target="_blank">New York, USA - November 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156202196405696.1073741870.805390695&type=1&l=72cc1ea999" target="_blank">Québec City, Canada - November 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156202240735696.1073741871.805390695&type=1&l=7753256ccf" target="_blank">Road trip to Montreal, Canada - November 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156203706670696.1073741872.805390695&type=1&l=4ae462d08d" target="_blank">Ottawa, Canada - November 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156209567225696.1073741873.805390695&type=1&l=2710f162c8" target="_blank">Toronto, Canada - November 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156212456035696.1073741874.805390695&type=1&l=d5f5cfcbc5" target="_blank">Niagara Falls, Canada - November 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156230838780696.1073741875.805390695&type=1&l=6006792e8d" target="_blank">Thanksgiving in New Jersey, USA - November 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156296778700696.1073741878.805390695&type=1&l=c6b53f014a" target="_blank">Katie's UK visit - December 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156360784215696.1073741882.805390695&type=1&l=50a8cf3eb2" target="_blank">Penny & Kurt's UK visit - December 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156297371650696.1073741880.805390695&type=1&l=98f8aede28" target="_blank">North Wales with Penny & Kurt - December 2015</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156666036835696.1073741884.805390695&type=1&l=fd89c3b8a6" target="_blank">Malta, Gozo & Comino - March 2016</a></div>
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We have a few travel plans already in the pipeline this year, included a 3rd annual family trip with Dave's cousins, but next up will be a short hop over to Dublin to spend some time with a very dear friend and soaking up some music and then it's my beautiful South Africa next month... only 33 sleeps to go!</div>
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LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-73333196100615842102016-04-16T11:30:00.000+01:002016-05-13T19:40:39.799+01:00Almost there and nowhere near it.... all that matters is we're still going.<br />
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Family health issues. Loss of loved ones. Money worries. Job insecurity. Big Brother-y living situations. Since December 2013, we've had all of these in abundance - I'd confidently argue that I'd be pretty content never experiencing any of these ever again, unrealistic as that sounds. BUT... that's not what this post is about. It's about all the silver linings, the things amongst the tough stuff that has kept a smile firmly on our faces. It seems that all we've done is jump over hurdles the past few years, but you know what? I've come to realise that that's just life. So enough of all of that, most of it is SO last year!<br />
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Despite all of the obstacles, we've slowly but surely picked away at them so that most of them don't matter anymore - either by design or by force (Me? No, never.) - and for the most part, we've been living a relatively stress-free life for the past 8 months. We've had some pretty awesome family time at the end of last year, which is always a major bonus for me, and we've both acknowledged that by the end of last year, all of the built-up tension and stress we had been carrying had all but melted away. It was a really liberating feeling to acknowledge it, even if I didn't realise it was happening at the time. We've continued to travel, although not as frequently as in previous years and we have come out of our hermit-like existence this year to make an effort to see our friends more. It's been a great few months actually - we've shrugged the heaviness off our shoulders and are finally feeling like ourselves again.<br />
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The last major stress hurdle for Dave and I to overcome is the fact that he still, despite every effort literally every day for over a year, hasn't been able to find work since having his contract ended in March last year. He has had his ups and downs - the downs being periods where I literally have never felt so useless - but the ups and the expectation and anticipation of the next new adventure make it mostly okay. At the moment, he's almost there. We're almost there. And then what? We may cash in those <a href="http://serendipitousafrican.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/earning-life-credits.html" target="_blank">life credits</a> my cousin told me about.LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-77792583901222496582015-03-09T20:51:00.003+00:002016-05-13T19:41:14.623+01:00Dear WilliamTo my gorgeous Godson<br />
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It's been nearly 2 months since you came into our lives and I can tell you something, I have never seen your parents happier! Over the past 18 years I've seen them love, I've seen them fight, I've seen them with endless smiles on their wedding day and I've seen them go through one of the toughest years of their lives last year, but nothing compares to their faces when they look at you.<br />
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Your mom has been my best friend since we were 9. That's 26 years of solid friendship that I am so thankful for. Those years have seen us go through a huge amount, most of it apart from each other because of geography, but when we speak to each other, it's as if only a few hours have gone by since we last spoke. One of the many things I love about your mom is that when we laugh, we do it properly - until our bellies hurt and we have tears pouring down our cheeks! And one of the best things about your dad is how much he loves your mom. That has never wavered from the first day he came into her life and is so evident in everything he does.<br />
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So I want you to know that you have been chosen by 2 of the best people I know and buddy, that's the best start I could ever have hoped for you.<br />
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I was absolutely honoured when your mom asked me to be your Godmother. You'll come to know as you grow older that everyone has their own belief systems and whilst I won't profess to being a Godmother in the true sense of the word, I can guarantee that not a day will go by that I don't love you. My job is to support your parents, support you and to help guide you through life. It's not always easy, but I aim to help make it the most fun, valuable and treasured life imaginable for you! You are one in a million, my little boy, your parents waited a long time for you and they are doing an amazing job! In the few weeks that they've had you, I have seen your little personality grow in leaps and bounds... you are a truly happy little being (with eyes that are capable of melting hearts!). Add to that the amazing family they both have and you are one lucky little chap.<br />
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There is plenty of time in your life for me to tell you stories about your parents, funny ones that will give you belly laughs and will no doubt some day embarrass you completely, but for now, I want you to know that even though I am not with you every day, I am thinking about you. I am watching you grow and loving every photo, video and anecdote that your mom sends me. I know when you got your first tooth and I am expecting any day now to know that you've taken your first step or said your first word. There are so many 'firsts' that I am so excited for your parents to experience with you.<br />
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My promise to you is that I will always provide a support system, be a shoulder for you to lean on, give you guidance when you need it and a steer on the right path. I promise to always pack the fun along with the life lessons and mostly, I promise that you will always have tons and tons of love. I also promise one day to explain to you why I call you my little Squirt - although I may keep that nugget for your 18th birthday!<br />
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You have come into my life just when I needed a ray of sunshine and you've certainly provided it in copious amounts with that ever-present cheeky, dimpled grin.<br />
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Sending you all my love across the miles, little buddy!<br />
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Love Aunty Lins xxxLKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-6152442367903060352015-03-08T19:32:00.002+00:002016-05-13T19:42:05.875+01:00Earning life creditsI haven't written in a long time. That's not to say that I don't have entries stacked up in volumes in my head, but life has been getting the better of us lately, so concentrating on getting through each day, week and month has been the priority.<br />
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I won't wax lyrical about the challenges Dave and I have faced over the past 14 months - the last 6 in particular - but suffice it to say that it's not been a bundle of laughs, for us personally, for other members in both of our families and for those near and dear to my nearest and dearest. I can whole-heartedly say that although 2014 started off amazingly for us (see my last, fairly ironic, blog entry from June last year), it soon became clear that it would end off being one of the worst... and 2015 hasn't disappointed on that front either so far.</div>
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I sent an update e-mail to my family the other day and among the responses was a line from my cousin that stuck out at me and I hope he'll forgive me for stealing. He said "Cuz... hang in there, you are earning life credits from the universe and I'm sure it will swing in the other direction soon". Life credits. I love that thought.</div>
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All of this, together with writer's block has meant that I've neglected my trusty little blog - the place I go to get the thoughts in my head out and onto <strike>paper</strike> screen. So I aim to try and keep up - and catch up! - with it again. There is a lot of travelling which has not made its way onto the site and I aim to rectify that, starting now.</div>
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As the famous movie line goes "It will all be alright in the end. And if it's not alright, then it is not the end". We can't control what happens to us, but we can control our attitude towards what happens to us. I have no doubt that we are nowhere near the end of this tough period yet, we haven't yet rounded the corner where the light starts to shine at the end, but I have a level of optimism about it (most of the time) that hopefully will make the universe stand up and take notice! With every blow, with every bit of bad news we get either here or from home, I just feel like yelling "Seriously?" But then I realise that it's just the universe's way of challenging us. I've always been a big believer in the fact that we won't be sent more than we can handle, so a note to the Powers That Be.... I think we're just about done here. Although I am certain that I'll learn to deal with it, I'm not sure how much more we or our families can take, so I'm unfurling my white flag as I type!</div>
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Tough things happen, sometimes to some people more than others and admittedly, up until now I've been fairly fortunate, but now is my time to adapt my attitude (hard as it may be on some days) and I'm choosing to believe that it will all be alright in the end.</div>
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And as for these life credits we're building up? Well, I'm making big plans for them as I type, so Universe, be warned. I hope you can take as good as you give!</div>
LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-31523979221988601322014-06-12T18:48:00.004+01:002014-06-12T18:48:59.872+01:00A change is all I needed!It's been a few months since I made what seemed to me to be a radical decision. I've always thought about looking for a job closer to home, but I never really put much effort into it. That was because I loved my job. I loved my role, I love my work friends (still love them to bits!) and I truly loved going to work, even if it meant sitting for 4 hours on trains every day. Circumstances after that - and completely by my own doing - meant that I found myself in a role that was incredibly unsatisfying. I learnt a few years ago that there is far more to life than sitting at a desk, spending every day in a job that doesn't test you.<div>
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It has been a month today since I started my new job around the corner from home and I can honestly say that I feel more relaxed than I have done in years - and I didn't feel particularly wound up before! I now have the luxury of time - time to sleep in, time to walk Lucy in the mornings and time to take a leisurely drive to the office. Time to get home when it's still light, time to cook and time to spend time with Dave in the evenings. Whereas before my week was dictated by train schedules, there are now no timetables to stick to and I'm loving it! Add to that the fact that I am once again doing what I truly love to do and it's a winning formula.</div>
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I won't lie, this has been an amazing year for us and I touch a lot of wood saying that. If no other good things happen this year, I can honestly say that I'm happy with my lot in 2014. It's been a truly fantastic year so far and it's only June.</div>
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The saying is that a haircut is as good as a holiday, well in my case, a holiday and new job have literally turned my life around for the better. Long may it continue!</div>
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LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-7230509537556484012014-04-06T16:30:00.000+01:002014-04-06T16:30:09.280+01:00Three hours and forty minutesSince Dave and I made the decision to move out to the country, there is only one thing about every day that I've wished I could change. My 4-hour commute to a job that I love. 4 hours. 2 hours each way - and that is without the inevitable occasional delays caused by the weather, strikes, people who feel the only option is to jump and all sorts of other laughable reasons that the train companies give you. Not to mention the over £5,000 a year hole in my bank account made by the extortionate fares.<br />
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I've never felt particularly stressed about my commute every day - it's a decision that we made and one that I was comfortable with to have the quality of life that we have in the country, away from the noise, grime and fast pace of a big city. But the reality is that more and more recently, my body has been telling me that it is tired of doing it every day and is not willing to do it for much longer. I'd always had it in the back of my mind that I'd only move if the exact right role presented itself at the right time... and it's time. And so comes the end of an era.<br />
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I resigned on Thursday from a company that I have loved working at for 5 years. I was both nervous and really hesitant about it, second-guessing myself right up until halfway through the first conversation (the first of five that I had to have!). I explained all the usual things like it wasn't a decision that I had arrived at lightly, why I'd made the decision and where I was going. But it wasn't until I explained that I effectively only get 90 minutes a day during the week to spend any time awake in the same room as my husband that it really hit home. I immediately calmed down because I realised with that one statement that I have made absolutely the right decision.<br />
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I am going on to a role which will stretch my braincells and give me a challenge that makes it worth the move. But one of the best things about it is that it is a 10 minute drive from home. I will have a total commuting time of 20 minutes a day - 30 maybe if I get stuck behind a tractor. That will give me back 3 hours and 40 minutes of my life every day, which to me, is absolutely priceless. I could make a whole lot of promises to myself that I will use that time to exercise, to bake, to clean the house more and a multitude of other things, but the only thing that I'm going to pledge now is that I will appreciate it and absolutely covet those additional hours I'll get to be in my husband's company every day. Further than that, I'll just see what each day brings.<br />
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There are loads of cliches that I could come up with now, but I'll just go with the one that I know to be absolutely true - the past 5 years has presented me with fantastic opportunities that I am incredibly
grateful for and I have made life-long friendships from my time there. And looking forward, although I've taken a risk, it's a risk that I feel has had to be plunged into, so let's see what comes next! I'm ready!LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-66699152531606094712013-12-31T16:31:00.001+00:002013-12-31T16:41:42.101+00:00Goodbye 2013, hello 2014!<p dir="ltr">As always, I'm behind with my blogging so I still have 2 travel blogs to do from 2013, but they will have to wait until next year!</p>
<p dir="ltr">It's been an exhausting end to 2013, some of it because of fun stuff and some of it because of not-so-fun stuff. Dave's dad has been very ill during December and will unfortunately be seeing in the new year in ICU, but we will go and see him (and maybe even smuggle in a whisky miniature for his drip!). I spent a lovely 10 days of quality time with one of my oldest and dearest friends, which was the fun stuff I was talking about. So all-in-all, an eventful December in more ways than one, but we are all still here and that's what counts.</p>
<p dir="ltr">As this year draws to a close, I wish my family and friends a very happy and healthy 2014. May it be your best year yet!</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJmhFmSRApV9ynBLYzOGh7bIW3MSG_cCPlU24L6kjeF03n5qURx2_OM_JsGfyIU-XxobJrTamjQNxXeYvZNHNT6u-d1kuxZ-jS_QVRiex7XEoWnBNnRQDHbpmuKOOuqRQtjyYpVJKESs/s1600/IMG_20131231_162711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJJmhFmSRApV9ynBLYzOGh7bIW3MSG_cCPlU24L6kjeF03n5qURx2_OM_JsGfyIU-XxobJrTamjQNxXeYvZNHNT6u-d1kuxZ-jS_QVRiex7XEoWnBNnRQDHbpmuKOOuqRQtjyYpVJKESs/s640/IMG_20131231_162711.jpg"> </a> </div>LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-50551560912138549132013-12-12T22:31:00.000+00:002013-12-12T22:31:49.171+00:00A country united... exactly the way he wanted it<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela (18 July 1918 - 5 December 2013) </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b><i><span style="font-size: small;">"The father of our nation closed his eyes so that the rest of the world may open theirs" (written by Seth_fearGOD on Twitter)</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have both hope and fear in equal parts that this statement will become reality. Hope that the real intention behind these words might become the reality. Fear because of the ambiguity of this statement and the possibility that it may become reality. With the giant gone, the ANC is now free from his shadow and therefore free to do whatever it is that they want to do with our beautiful country.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I have not read the papers, listened to news reports and have tried to stay out of conversations about the topic. This is a massive generalisation, but I have found that it is not always possible to have a balanced conversation with anyone who is not from SA because most non-South Africans idolised Nelson Mandela and by proxy, think that the ANC is doing right by its people and helping liberate them from the shadows of apartheid, when in fact, the exact opposite is true. I can't express this to anybody here because there is no telling anybody what the current situation is because most people cannot separate Nelson Mandela from his political party. This was illustrated by something that someone said on Facebook this week - 'anybody prepared to decry the ANC of the time and give no mention of the disgusting apartheid regime in place for many decades doesn't really have their head screwed on properly'. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nelson Mandela was a terrorist. There, I said it. As a friend said to me this week, 'one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter', which may be true, but I can't support anybody who resorts to violence and murder as a way to impose 'peace'. That is a complete contradiction in terms. However, I absolutely respect the man for his vision, his bravery and integrity and his humanitarian efforts since he stepped down from a political life have been second to none. And that's where it becomes difficult to get my point across when having a conversation with someone who isn't South African. The rest of the world only knows him as a liberator, peace maker and all-round awesome dude. They forget that he was once the leader of a political party which has caused, in my opinion, the worst damage to our country's economy, welfare of its citizens and public image. When you separate the man from the political party, you start to see that the men who have followed behind him, supposedly to continue his legacy and vision, have in fact, done exactly the opposite. They have divided a country and made the rich richer and the poor poorer. The poorer classes are worse off now than they ever were under an apartheid government - that's an absolute fact. It doesn't make apartheid right and please don't think for a second that I am advocating it, because I find it abhorrent, but facts are facts and unfortunately, this is the way of life in South Africa today.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nelson Mandela is due to be buried on Sunday and I estimate that at roughly 7am on Monday morning, building work and the haemorrhage of taxpayer funds will resume on Zuma's ridiculous mansion. I fear that the world will open their eyes next week on a South Africa without Nelson Mandela in it and I fear that his vision and legacy will soon be forgotten unless the current political party is ousted at next year's election.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I am not a politically-minded nor a religious person - the two things guaranteed to cause a conflict of opinion at any dinner table! But I do love my country and wish every single day that Dave and I could have the opportunity to live there. But the reality is that even if Dave could get work in his field in SA, the likelihood of him being able to secure a job is next to zero because of nearly 20 years of Black Economic Empowerment - an initiative that was probably fulfilled within about 5 years and then should have been closed. I absolutely agree that it needed to happen, because I have always believed that everyone is equal and the same is true to this day, which is why I get so frustrated that the irony is lost on the ANC. They are supposedly standing for equality, but yet have initiatives in place which actively block any chance of it. You can't buy logic!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">To see Zuma standing up this week telling the people of SA to stand together in mourning for Mandela makes me sick. The poor man would be rolling in his grave had he had time to be put in one yet. The SA of today is not what he wanted, yet in the eyes of the international Press and opinion of the rest of the world, his vision is being fulfilled. And that's where the disconnect comes in. And it is why I don't engage in conversations with anyone who doesn't know what it is like to see the poor getting poorer because of a government that was put in place to protect them. It's devastating and incredibly disappointing.</span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">The SA of this week has been one that Madiba would have wanted - everyone standing together united. But for how long? Not even an hour after the memorial service, the Press were hot on the heels of the fake interpreter (absolutely farcical!), the transport problems, Archbishop Tutu's house being burgled during the event and the fact that Tuesday was not made a holiday - yes, that made international news! The fact that Zuma was booed was an interesting - and frankly, refreshing - turn of events. The seats in the stadium hadn't even had time to cool yet before the international backlash started.</span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I grew up in apartheid South Africa and many people have said to me that it's because I am white that I don't remember things being particularly tough, which is kind of insulting, but I get it. The reality is that my parents brought us up to be respectful of everyone - just as good parents should. I had a maid, I remember being incredibly fond of her and she was a member of the family. I had a great childhood and even when apartheid ended in the early 90s, it didn't have an impact on me at all to my recollection. I have never in my life seen skin colour as a determining factor for the way that I will treat someone. However, and I genuinely wish this wasn't true, the same can't be said for the current government. And I find that incredibly sad.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">No government is perfect, I realise that. After all, I live in a country which provides for an Afghan family of 10 which arrives at its border by providing them with a mansion at an eye-watering level of waste of MY tax money, but will allow a British Serviceman, who has fought on the front line for this country, to live in his car on the street. That is tragic and a very sad state of affairs. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Let the rest of the world open their eyes, indeed. </span><i><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></i></span></div>
LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-75839330868884329612013-11-18T20:27:00.001+00:002013-11-18T20:36:27.201+00:00My beautiful South Africa... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I mentioned a while ago that I’ve been having a bit of writer’s block
and that hasn’t really changed, but with 2 trips now passed and another
2 right around the corner, I need to update on the travel side of
things.<br />
<br />
This year’s South Africa trip was engineered to
coincide with my dad’s 70th birthday and my sister’s 40th birthday. In
the past 3 years, our trips have coincided with special family birthdays
and these were the last of them for a little while. My dad's present was actually a few years in the making and I'm so chuffed that we finally got what we wanted... he was so surprised and incredibly chuffed and for the rest of my trip (and possibly still to this day), whenever a car drove towards him, he said 'Oi! Watch out! The Shark is coming!'<br />
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A
few months before we were due to fly out, a few of my old primary
school friends were bantering around on Facebook and it made me think of
the good old days when we had so much fun with a load of people who we
are still in touch with to this day. That is a really rare thing I’ve
found and I love knowing that some of the girls at my wedding were also
at my 10th birthday party. So I suggested having a primary school
reunion – selfishly suggesting a date on which I’d be in Durban (well,
why not?!). It was such a great night – the teachers even got involved
and one of my old friends worked really hard to sort through old photos
and create collages (thanks Sam!).<br />
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<br />
It was so lovely seeing everyone
again after so long and it was a relief to find that although we’re all
older, that doesn’t mean we’re necessarily more mature and we laughed
the evening away with lots of story-telling and reminiscing. One of my funniest primary school stories revolves around our Std 5 tour in 1992, when the 'cool' thing was to be constantly accompanied by a <u>tube</u> of condensed milk (NO idea why!). I had forgotten to ask my parents to buy this for me for the tour and so I quickly asked my dad to rush out to the shop the night before we were due to leave to buy me some. The next morning, we all congregated at the school, ready to go - condensed milk tubes in hand - when my dad presented me with my very own <i>TIN</i> of condensed milk. Oh dear lord. I spent the whole rest of the tour slurping my condensed milk through a tiny hole punched in the top of the tin! Oh, how cool I was!<br />
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<br />
The rest
of my weekend in Durban was spent with my fabulous family and my lovely
friends who were really helpful in playing taxi to me, which was made
necessary by the fact that I’d left my drivers’ licence in the UK and
therefore was not able to pick up my hire car! What a dork.<br />
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<br />
This
trip revolved entirely around family, which is the way we’d engineered
it. For the past few years, we’ve taken friends and family out to South
Africa with us, which has been absolutely fantastic. This time I just
wanted quality time with my family and so that’s exactly what I did.
And it was 3 and a half weeks of bliss! I’m always really sad to leave
and I don’t think there will ever come a day when I don’t cry at the
airport... I’m such a softie. But I felt ready to come back to England
this time, which is a rarity for me.<br />
<br />
The family gathering in Cape Town for my dad & sister's birthdays was a hit with lots of great catching up and hats off to Charly's Bakery for creating this beauty!<br />
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In terms of things
we did, the list begins with overpriced (but delicious) dinner taster
menus at fancy restaurants in Sea Point to wine tastings in my favourite areas of the Cape, Franschhoek, Stellenbosch and Noordhoek...<br />
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... to sunset photography...<br />
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Watching my brother-in-law diving with Sharks at Two Oceans Aquarium and 2 smiling sting rays...<br />
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.... to the gorgeous Cape beaches and a sneaky golden retriever...<br />
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From the District Six Museum, which made me angry just standing in there, but is such an important part of South Africa's turbulent past, to the beautifully colourful and vibrant Bo Kaap and Green Market Square...<br />
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And it ended with (but was not limited to) great catch-ups with friends, a trip to Butterfly World with psychotic birds and the most delicious seafood in Hout Bay and Fish Hoek, accompanied by waving seals. Not to mention an albino squirrel named Frank (who was very camera shy!) and
my discovery of Wakaberry.<br />
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<br />
I could write an entire internet full of
stuff about my trips to South Africa – I love my home and that never
fades, so I just enjoy every second of my time there every time we go.
And Dave genuinely looks forward to our trips too, which makes me feel
better about dragging him out there every year!<br />
<br />
<br />
We said
this time that we’d include a trip to Mozambique, Namibia or Botswana,
but didn’t get the time nor have the money to do it, so we are planning
now for our Christmas trip next year and will definitely be broadening
our horizons a bit on our next trip. One of my fondest memories from
when I was growing up is a family trip to Kariba in Zimbabwe where we
all stayed on a houseboat – 9 of us all crammed onto one houseboat with a
cook and a dog! Yip, we had a cook! There have been murmurings about
us all doing that again, which would be absolutely amazing! I’d love it
if we were able to get all 16 of us together on a trip like that again.
We’d need a much bigger boat though.<br />
<br />
So an all-round brilliant trip, as always... it never disappoints. Until next time my gorgeous mountain!<br />
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<br />
For the full photo album, click <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152896581015696.1073741831.805390695&type=1&l=da9bdb043f" target="_blank">here</a>.LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-45823161094703611592013-11-15T19:40:00.001+00:002013-11-18T19:19:02.930+00:00George Bernard Shaw was a wise dude!A silent anniversary passed a few months ago – it’s one that I don’t necessarily want to take note of, but it’s one of those irritating ones that will forever be lodged in my brain – *click* another year has passed. Not just one year older (and hopefully wiser!), but one more year that we don’t have a little addition to the Ring household.<br />
<br />
Being well into our 3rd year now since we started this, it is hard to imagine that it will ever happen for us and I flit between believing it will, being indifferent and being absolutely certain that we will remain just the 2 of us. And most days that’s fine, but as most women can probably understand, some days it’s not. And those days are genuinely very few and far between – I don’t allow myself to get down about it too often, but I do allow myself the occasional ‘woe is me’ allotted timeslot of 5 minutes. And it strikes me at the weirdest times. I’ve had a few of those in the past 2 weeks, so I’m just about out of my allowance for the next few months!<br />
<br />
Everybody gets it right? At whatever point you are in your life, there is always something that seems unachievable. As a teenager when all your friends have finally been noticed by their secret crushes, you wonder when it’ll ever be your turn. When you’re out of work or in a job that doesn’t really fulfil you, you wonder if it’ll ever turn around for you. If you haven’t met someone you want to spend your life with by the time you’re 30, you wonder if it’ll ever happen for you. If you have a terrible break-up, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to find love again. And it goes on and on and on. All these things my friends and countless others are struggling with, I don’t happen to be struggling with right now, but it just goes to show that we all have our own battles and it’s up to us to determine whether we’re going to wallow or whether we’re going to come out the other side of it with all guns blazing, knowing that we’ve got the mindset to make it happen – or at least know that we’ve tried our absolute best! After all, the <i>'want to'</i> creates the <i>'how to'</i>.<br />
<br />
This is the point we’re heading to. We have done the doctor’s appointments, the fertility drugs and all the unromantic stuff. And that’s all we can do. We’ve just been living our lives for the most part of this year so far, totally uncommitted to ovulation tests and calendars. Since the, frankly apathetic, fertility specialist uttered the words ‘the only option for you now is assisted conception’ in February, I really haven’t bothered about it all. And it’s been liberating! It took a couple of months to let go of all the structure that comes with battling infertility, but one day I just suddenly couldn’t remember when last I worried about all of it. And I’m in a genuinely happy place now, knowing that the stress of all of it is behind me. The future stress is figuring out where to next. The most asked question I get whenever I chat to anybody about this is ‘have you considered IVF or adoption?’. Absolutely no offence to anybody who has ever asked me this, because I absolutely understand that it is an obvious one to ask, but just know that it is an equally obvious one to consider when you’re going through this, so the answer is always ‘yes’. Yes, we have considered it. We have talked in length about it and the reality is that for reasons that I will not put down here, adoption is not an option for us. And yes, we’ve considered IVF, but the answer to that one is much more simple. We can’t afford it. I have only 4 months of the year next year when I will be eligible for free IVF on the NHS, however there is a BIG ‘but’. Because I have PCOS, it is incredibly difficult for me to lose weight. And before you ask, yes, I’ve tried everything. Low Carb diet, exercise, Metformin, completely changed diet and attitude to food, the works. Still nothing. And without losing more than ¼ of my body weight, the NHS won’t even give me the time of day. And why 4 months, you ask? Because... get this... I’ll be too old as of the 16th November next year – my 35th birthday. Yes, you read that right. But I don't define myself by my weight, I take absolute responsibility for it.<br />
<br />
We are so incredibly lucky in other ways and it is not lost on me that we have the lifestyle that we have because we don’t have children and I am very grateful for the fact that we are able to see the world. It is something I’ve wanted to do since I first came to the UK all on my own in 2000, however I didn’t truly start exploring and seeing the world until I met Dave. So yeah, I’ve just had to learn to take some and lose some. And believe me, we take FAR more than we lose, which is a pretty good place to be in.<br />
<br />
George Bernard Shaw said <i><b>"There are 2 tragedies in life – one is to lose your heart’s desire and the other is to gain it"</b></i>.<br />
<br />
Money, success, possessions. These are the things that we leave something behind in order to find, whether it be home or dreams or even our health. But in doing that, we leave behind family, friendship and love – the things we already had. I always actively try to concentrate on the things I have, not on the things I thought that I possibly might have one day. One day might come and it might not, but if or when it does, I’ll know that I’ve worked hard to appreciate everything up until that point. Although life is the longest thing you ever do, it’s still too short to live with regrets. <br />
<br />
So this post doesn’t really have any point other than to get these thoughts out of my head and my heart and onto paper (or screen?). And that makes me feel better! Onwards and upwards towards all those silver linings out there just waiting to be discovered! Oh, and the unicorn too. LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-5134585686935784212013-08-16T16:03:00.001+01:002013-08-16T16:03:45.967+01:00S'not cool!Incessant sniffing. On the train. I think it's up there with pretty much everybody's pet peeves. I mean, come on... invest 35p in a pack of tissues, for goodness sake! And although it's gross, if you have to, buy a hanky. Whatever you choose to wipe your nose on, I don't really care, as long as it's not me and as long as the drip is not left dangling, waiting for a violent sniff to pull it back up to where it came from. Over and over and over again. <br />
<br />
It drives me insane. Winter is obviously the worst for snot-filled sniffers, especially when you're on a packed train every day. I have been known to offer a tissue to a snotty stranger - isn't it better to offer someone a tissue than have to sit for an hour, listening to the content of somebody's left lung forcefully ebbing and flowing? Gross.<br />
<br />
I recently didn't quite name, but definitely shamed this guy on my Facebook page. I watched as he dug for diamonds - and by that, I mean a full on, index finger right up in there, dig around - inspected the offensive gem and then proceeded to wipe it on the pole. Yes. That's right. Who does that?! I was so grossed out that after swallowing down the gag reflex, I retrieved a tissue from my bag and leaned over the aisle to give it to him. He looked at me strangely and I was then forced to say 'Wipe what you just did off the pole, that's disgusting!'. He feigned ignorance for a split second, then used the tissue to wipe the offending article off the pole where someone else's hand would imminently be placed.<br />
<br />
So if you see this guy on the tube at any point, make sure you have your sterilising gel with you. Mr Tie Man... you suck! You're gross and I hope you fall face first into a cow pat sometime soon.<br />
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<br />LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-67510702563276713482013-08-16T15:24:00.000+01:002013-08-16T15:40:50.078+01:00Reflections.... troubled souls and lost connectionsI haven't been on here for ages. I said a little while ago that I had
writer's block and to a certain extent, I still do, but a few things
have happened this week, which have given me cause to pause and reflect,
which I don't often do. I'm not a very introspective person and
although, in the past, I have been guilty of over-analysing, I've done
relatively little of that since I met Dave. Contentment has meant that
my mind doesn't need to go there very often. <br />
<br />
The past couple of weeks have been hard ones for a few people in my
life. A very special friend lost her beloved dad last week. I don't
think I've ever known anyone to be closer to their dad and I can only
imagine how this has affected and is continuing to affect her. All I
can do is be there for her, on the other end of the keypad, offering her
my support and love across the miles. Then, on Wednesday, I received
news that an old friend had passed away. He was my very first 'real'
boyfriend and became a very troubled soul, so I didn't have much contact
with him in recent years, but it's still sad to hear that someone you
grew up with and were once so close to has passed away, especially since
he was still so young. Facebook is an amazing phenomenon for bringing
people together in times like this. This person moved overseas quite
some time ago, but as far as I know, was already going through a rough
time when he arrived. He certainly was the last time I saw him back in
2002, so apart from his family, everybody else who knew him here in
England, only knew him as the person he became. Or rather, probably
more accurately, never knew the person he was. Seeing the tributes,
messages, outpourings of affection and shock from all of the friends
back home is really humbling and I honestly hope that it provides some
comfort to his family that so many people have such fond memories of
him. Kurt, you were absolutely a force to be reckoned with when you
were younger and I was never going to succeed in taming you, but I will,
of course, always remember you. <br />
<br />
I heard this on a podcast last night and it really resonated. It is a quote by Henry van Dyke and goes like this...<br />
<br />
<i><b>I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my
side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the
blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch
her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where
the sea and sky come to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side
says, "There, she is gone!" Gone where? Gone from my sight. That is
all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she
left my side and she is just as able to bear the load of living freight
to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And
just at the moment when someone at my side says, "There, she is gone!",
there are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take
up the glad shout, "Here she comes!". And that is
dying.</b></i><br />
<br />
Kurt's death brought another very old friend back into my life
(thank you again, Facebook) and I have had such fun reminiscing about
the old days with him. Dave doesn't often understand it when I explain
how, where we grew up, everybody knew everybody else and they certainly
knew everybody else's business! I'm not sure I'd want it that way now
as an adult, but back then, it wasn't an issue - although that may be
because I was fairly inconspicuous in the grand scheme of things and
never really did anything 'news-worthy'. There was no need for phones,
just a strong pair of legs and a good pair of flip flops to get you where you wanted to go. You inherently knew that once you got to where you were going,
all the familiar friendly faces would be there waiting for you to join
the party - whether that was a real party or an afternoon swim at the
local pool. At the time, we all seemed so vastly separated by the
schools we went to, cliques we hung out in, clothes we wore or who we
were dating. But now, 16 years later, the picture I get in my mind when
I think of those days is one of a tiny, really close-knit community -
almost as if we were being looked at by a kid with a magnifying glass.
We were the ants. All of our stories, all of our relationships, all of
our social events (Raywood and New Forest discos, anyone?) were
connected. I was thinking about the impact that some of these people
had on my life back then and they had absolutely no idea. Isn't it a
fantastic thing to be able to tell somebody that, at one point, you
couldn't imagine a week going by without seeing them or laughing with
them or even just speaking to them? Because that's what it comes down
to... memories are sacred, nobody can take them away from you. So my
advice to you is that while you still can, make a go at rekindling those connections that make the good
memories stand out more than any bad ones you're carrying around.<br />
<br />
This week, more than ever, I'm absolutely grateful for all the great ones I have.LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-62031249039535456832013-07-25T09:59:00.003+01:002013-07-25T10:18:54.182+01:00South African English... let it not be said that we're not unique!<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 11pt;">I came across this in the form of an e-mail, so I can't take credit for writing it, but I thought it was so funny... and it really resonated, because I often used to get strange sideways glances from Dave and his family before they just got used to the way 'The African' speaks and they now just 'go with the flow'! </span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 11pt;">When it comes to "<em>hosing myself</em>" or "<em>going right at the robot and then left at the circle</em>" or even just "<em>waiting here so long while you go into Tesco</em>", I'm pretty much on my own with a bunch of blank stares unless there is a South African in on the conversation! So all my SA friends, particularly those who have ever lived outside of South Africa... <strong>ENJOY</strong>!</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 11pt;">How do you explain the word "<em>sommer</em>" to someone who is not South African? It's not only a foreign word, it's a foreign concept. Perhaps the English never do anything "just sommer". There really is no equivalent.... "Why are you laughing? Just sommer."<br /><br />"<em>Bakkie</em>" is another one, very useful around this house for all sizes and shapes of containers and dishes. Also used for what they call "utes" in OZ or "pickup" in England. I find it an indispensable word.<br /><br />We all know "<em>voetstoots</em>" of course. It's been officially adopted into South African English. There's no concise, one-word equivalent in English. "As is" just doesn't hack it. And it's such a humorous word, conjuring up images of pushing that brand new car home...<br /><br />There's no good English word for "<em>dwaal</em>". It doesn't mean dream, or daze. It's close to absent-mindedness, but that's not quite it. Being in one so often myself, I'm not likely to stop using it.<br /><br />I think "<em>gogga</em>" is the most delightful word for insect I've ever heard. Children all over the world should use it. "Insect" just doesn't stand a chance.<br /><br />And I think "<em>moffie</em>" is a far better word than all those embarrassed English attempts at defining a homosexual: gay, queer, poofter... none of them are half as expressive. Somehow "moffie" doesn't sound as derogatory either.<br /><br />And then there's "<em>gatvol</em>". OK, I know it's very rude. But it's so very expressive, nê? <br />"Fed up" doesn't have half the impact. "<em>Gatvol</em>" is a word used more frequently than ever in the workplace these days, with increasing intensity.<br /><br />While we're on the subject, another phrase which outstrips any English attempt is "<em>Hy sal sy gat sien</em>". "He'll get his come-uppance" definitely lacks the relish in comparison.<br /><br />"<em>Donder</em>" is another very useful word, used as an all-purpose swearword, which again has no good English translation. Used as a verb, it can express any degree of roughing up. As a noun, it is a pejorative, as they politely say in dictionaries, to mean whatever you want it to mean. And there's no good translation for "<em>skiet-en-donder</em>" either.<br /><br />It says something about the English that they have no word for "<em>jol</em>". Probably the dictionary compilers regard it as slang, but it's widely used for "Going out on the town, kicking up your heels, enjoying yourself<span style="color: #1f497d;">”.</span> Although curiously, the word "Yule" in Yuletide is related to "jol" and derived from Old English. So somewhere along the line, the English forgot how to "jol". </span><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 11pt;">How do you explain the passion of "lekker!"? "Wow last night was a "lekker jol".</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 11pt;">I've yet to meet a South African over the age of two who doesn't use the word "<em>muti</em>". Translation is impossible - "witches potion" is about the nearest I can get. It needs a long cultural historical explanation. Between "<em>muti</em>" and the pedantic "medication", there's simply no contest.<br /><br />And of course, my personal favourite "<em>Kak en betaal</em>" , which just says it all, doesn't it? A bland English translation would be "Cough and pay", or "Breathe and pay". But it just doesn't cut it, does it? Not by a long drop.<br /><br />Other words that come to mind: "<em>jou bliksem</em>", "<em>wag 'n bietjie</em>", "<em>nie so haastig nie</em>", "<em>just now</em>", "<em>sakkie-sakkie music</em>", "<em>ou swaer</em>", "<em>Ya, nee</em>", and one of my personal favourites, "<em>Poephol</em>".<br /><br />"<em>Dudu</em>". Telling your infant to "go to bed" is just not the same as<span style="color: #1f497d;">,</span> "Go dudu now<span style="color: #1f497d;">,</span> my baby!"<br /><br />How about <span style="color: #1f497d;">“</span><em>bliksem</em>"? "I'm going to bliksem you!". Both wonderful Afrikaans expressions with nothing to compare in the English language, at least nothing that gives the same satisfaction.<br /><br />"<em>Mielie pap</em>" - there is no word like "pap", here. They have porridge, and when they say porridge, they mean oats. There's no Maltabela, no Tasty Wheat, No Creemy Meal... in other words, there's no "pap"!<br /><br />"<em>Mislik</em>" - such a 'lekker' word. "Why are you so mislik, you little skelm?"</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 11pt;">Which brings us to "<em>skelm</em>" - here you just get "baddies", but that doesn't have the same sneaky connotation of a proper skelm, does it?! </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-size: 11pt;">And "<em>snot-klap</em>"... fabulous word!<span style="color: #1f497d;"> </span> "Do you want a snot-klap?" How would you say that in English? "I'll slap you so hard the snot will fly!"? It's just not the same.<br /><br />"<em>Loskop</em>" is another favourite. The English just don't understand when I say, "Sorry, I forgot - I'm such a loskop!" <br /><br />And finally..... "<em>moer</em>". There simply isn't a word here that denotes the feeling of dread behind the phrase "If you don't clean your room, I'll moer you!"</span><br />
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LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-4783435457327439552013-07-17T13:59:00.001+01:002013-07-17T13:59:45.096+01:00Writer's blockI'm here. I'm still alive. I'm just stuck. I have a travel update to do and a blog entry idea whirring around in my head, but until I become unstuck, I'll leave you with this...<br />
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LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-81066863978146729092013-05-09T15:26:00.000+01:002013-05-14T10:04:55.865+01:00I heart Cornwall!<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ahhh, gorgeous Cornwall… where do I even start? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, for one thing, I can totally understand why people choose Cornwall as their family holiday destination every year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t speak for other areas, although I’m sure they’re pretty similar, but Port Isaac, where we stayed, is a sleepy little hollow where everybody knows everyone, most people have a big cheery smile on their faces and life just seems to go in slow motion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I reckon if people could survive on smiles and afternoon naps alone, Cornwall would be the ‘happening’ place!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now all of this is said against a backdrop of almost perfect weather the whole weekend – if it had been raining, this blog entry might have had a very different mood attached to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As it is, I said to Dave on Saturday that we have to seriously consider moving to a country that has actual seasons – it was beautifully sunny at Land’s End, but I was in a jumper – my jumper and I could not be parted this weekend, despite the glorious sunshine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This was our second holiday with Lucy – although this time she was house-trained and a bit bigger than when we took her away to the Isle of Wight in November last year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s so brilliant in the car, we’re very lucky that we can just pop her in the back seat and we’re away – no dog motion sickness to worry about – she just flops down and hangs a sign around her neck that says ‘Wake me when we get there’.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We both took the day off on Friday and headed out around mid-morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It took us just over 4 hours to get to Port Isaac from home, which isn’t actually all that bad, considering the constant traffic jam past Stonehenge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have always marvelled at traffic build-ups caused by rubber-necking – nothing causes the jam, there is absolutely nothing to prevent the traffic moving smoothly, but somehow, it’s bumper to bumper. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stonehenge is right on the road, so every time I have been past there, it’s the same story traffic-wise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing to see except a bunch of rocks, but still bumper to bumper traffic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We got to the cottage and unpacked the car – then it was nap time!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dave took Luce for a walk and I went for a nap – because you can when you’re on leave on a Friday afternoon! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ha!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That evening, we met up in Trebarwith Strand with an old friend of Dave’s (as in years they’ve known each other, not age!), her daughter, family friend and 2 dogs, Jakey & Pip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the dogs had a ball on the beach (quite literally sometimes… the other dogs were not impressed with Lucy constantly stealing their ball away from them), we chatted in the sun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was a really gorgeous evening and we were even able to sit outside when we eventually got to the pub.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You really could make a career out of watching the Cornwall sunset if you’re not careful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a really lovely evening, catching up with great friends and one gorgeous (and oh so bright) little girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At one point, Lottie turned to me and said ‘What’s your name?’, so I told her and she then whispered to me ‘I love you, Lindsay’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a cutie!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was quite happy colouring in with her while Dave and Donna had a catch-up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The following day, Dave and I headed off out to Land’s End, the first and last place in England.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A mass of shops and ice cream parlours all squashed into<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>tiny spot on the edge of the country – most of which were shut!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Very fairground-esque, but a lovely place all the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We took a walk around with Lucy acting like a spoilt brat pulling on her lead and just acting like a puppy, I guess, but it was exhausting!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we didn’t get that pup to a beach soon, I was going to lose the will to live. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was somewhat placated by a bubblegum-flavoured ice cream, which took me right back to my childhood! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was always my flavour of choice for milkshakes and ice creams and while Dave gagged, I gobbled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>YUM!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We then drove on to St Ives, but unfortunately there were no dog-friendly beaches around, so Luce had to make do with being tied up within a few metres of the sand while we ate our lunch, bless her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>St Ives is lovely, albeit very commercialised.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were just people, people, people, although that could have had something to do with the sunshine too!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The seagulls were out in force and I received a nasty package directly from the business end of one of them – ‘<i>Welcome to St Ives… now bugger off</i>’!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bought a lottery ticket that night to be safe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Next stop was Perranporth Beach so that Luce could have a bit of a run-around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love seeing people out and about on the beach, especially when it’s a properly sandy beach, but it’s kind of a contradiction when I’m standing on the beach in the glorious sunshine… in a massive jumper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just couldn’t get away from the chill in the air… hurry up Summer!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pffft… what am I talking about?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is England, what’s Summer?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That evening, neither of us was particularly hungry, so we took a walk around Port Isaac when we got back and decided to get some takeaway fish and chips on our way home from a place called…. The Takeaway (they must have spent <em>AGES</em> thinking about that one).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the way out, we checked the closing time and it was 9pm, so we were safe for a good hour or so. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We took a walk around the tiny little hamlet that is Port Isaac, it really is so sweet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tiny, cobbled houses, gorgeous shops selling local and handmade stuff with signs in the window like this…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On our way back up the hill to the cottage, we stopped in for some takeaway, except that it had a closed sign on the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 8.32pm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knocked on the door because there were 2 teenagers still inside, cleaning up and I went in, asking if we could place an order.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They said that they had closed and I pointed to the sign in the window which still said 9pm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Oh yeah, I don’t know why that’s there, because we always get asked about that, but we’re closed now’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you, that’s very helpful, I’m incredibly relieved that you’re here to explain that so eloquently to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> (</span>No, I didn’t say this, in case you’re wondering!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I did say was that it is incredibly unhelpful to have a closing time indicated in the window and then close up 30 minutes earlier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They obviously just felt like closing early and did so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Such is life in a laid-back fishing village, I guess! </span>So that was that… no dinner options for us within walking distance, so we had to jump in the car and go and buy some very un-Cornish pizzas at the local supermarket to cook back at the cottage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fail, The Takeaway in Port Isaac, serious fail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The following day we were off to The Eden Project, which is somewhere I’ve wanted to go for years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a lot smaller than I had anticipated, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are 2 main Biomes, as they call them. The first stop was the Rainforest Biome where we had some Baobab smoothies. I was slightly apprehensive at first, but they were delicious!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At the Rubber Tree section of the Rainforest Biome, there is a massive tyre where people generally pose for photos. This sign was plastered to it, which I thought was brilliant!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We then met up with Donna and Lottie, who joined us in the Mediterranean Biome which is where, bizarrely, the South African plants are (geography lessons, anyone?).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>We then all packed off to Polkerris, where the dogs had a bit of a run-around, but again… much to their despair… it was a no dog beach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Now… let me just explain the situation here – Lucy is 8 months old, not spayed as yet and thankfully for us, has not yet come into her first season. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The reason I say ‘thankfully for us’ is because her new best friend Jakey is also a purebred chocolate lab, 14 months old and unneutered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cue some very close eyeballing of the situation under the table!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were good - no surprises in a few months, I don’t think!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While Dave, Donna and dogs sat at the table in the sunshine, Lottie and I had<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> a </span>whale of a time on the beach building the most awesome fort.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a masterpiece, don’t you think? It even had a flag and everything!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We got back to Port Isaac in time for Dave to get some gorgeous early evening shots at the harbour, when the sun was just about setting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lucy and I took the time to explore some caves there – although I must admit, I didn’t get too close!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And so came our last night in beautiful Cornwall and just like that, it was over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a lovely, chilled, amazingly relaxing place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt like my batteries were certainly at least 70% recharged and a bit of vitamin D didn’t hurt either. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cornwall, you’ve won my heart and we will definitely be back – we’re already looking at available dates for when we could make a return trip.</span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Dave, on the other hand, was just really chuffed with himself for buying a new sign for the house!</span></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For my photos, click <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152773904620696.1073741829.805390695&type=1&l=c424872104" target="_blank">here</a>. For Dave's more pro ones, click <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152775706440332.1073741832.548870331&type=1&l=296d2d3f76" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152775727815332.1073741833.548870331&type=1&l=8e3657bee3" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-23728471918750229802013-05-08T21:55:00.000+01:002013-05-09T11:17:38.022+01:00I told mom that I wanted to try my hand at blogging...<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
This is me... not sure mom got my best side... what do you think?<br />
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Oooh, packing! What’s going on? Huh? Huh? What’s going on? Oh! Mom’s just given me my lead, that means WALK! Okay, I’m gonna run outside and get ready. C’moooooon mom! Hurry up! Oh… into the car? Okay, let’s go! Where are we going? Road trip? Awesome! Devon & Cornwall? Who are they? I hope they have treats! <i>(4 minutes later…)</i> I’m over this, are we there yet?</div>
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<i>(4 minutes later…)</i> Are we there yet? Wake me up when the fun starts.</div>
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<i>(4 hours and 2 toilet breaks later…)</i> Okay, this is cool. Seagulls. Awesome! Bloody hell, they’re noisy buggers, aren’t they? WOAH!! One just pooped RIGHT by my foot… eeeuw! Oh! CAT! Awesome! Oh- mom’s telling me off for saying hello to the cat… why does he look so scared, I just wanna play?! YAY! Dad’s got my lead, that means WALK! Argh, really? Back in the car again? Okay… this better be good. OOOOOH… BEACH!! OOOH… other DOGS! Maybe they are Devon & Cornwall – one of them looks like me! Oh, their names are Jakey & Pip. They’re also cool names, I guess. Water! Awesome! OH MY WORD! BALL! I’m coming ball, I’m coming… I can hear mom shouting at me, but I don’t care! GOT IT! Don’t look at me like that human… it’s your fault for playing cricket on a dog beach- OH! Mom’s taken it away from me, damn! I must pay more attention next time, can’t let that happen again. Oh holy cow, THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!!! Quick mom… action shot!!</div>
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I love my mom! </div>
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Back home again, sleeeeeeeepy. Let me see if I can sneak upstairs onto one of the beds before mom reali- OH! Damn. Downstairs it’ll have to be for now. DINNER!! Awesome! Dad’s got my lead, that means WALK! But I don’t feel like pooping, you can’t force me, you’re not my real dad! Right, you want me to wee? Fine. Is here okay? Yes, that’s right, at the top of a steep hill so that I can see it run all the way down the road, so THERE! Ha! I embarrassed you, didn’t I? Still don’t feel like pooping. HOME! Mom’s in the bath – oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I need to run upstairs and jump on the bed as quickly and ninja-like as possible so that mom and dad don’t realise. Ha! An hour later and they haven’t noticed. And I’m snug as a bug. Maybe if I just pretend to be fast asleep, they’ll leave me here for the night. It worked!</div>
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Moooooooooom!! Daaaaaad!! It’s 5.30am and I need the toilet! C’moooooon! Argh, c’moooon, I’m desperate. Okay, just for making me wait 5 minutes while you get dressed, I’m going to take my time too, show you how it feels. That’s right, I’m going to hold out for as long as possible, until you’re annoyed- OH! Mom’s not playing around, she’s really going to make me go back in the house without having gone to the toilet? Man, she’s tough… I should just go, I’d just die of embarrassment if I had an accident inside – can you imagine?! Mom and dad are having sausages for breakfast, I want one. Yes, give me one! Oh… they’re not gonna give me one. You need to give me one right now, or else! Do not, whatever you do, take that last mouthful – it’s MINE! Bugger. Mom’s got my lead, that means WALK! Awesome! My mom wanted me to pose with dad... oh my word, there's a hot chihuahua watching, how embarrassing! Just look cool! What did you say? BALL?! *click*<br />
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I just heard mom say Stives. What’s that? Sounds like something I’d need the vet to sort out for me. VET! NOOOOO! Okay, we’re here at last. BEACH! Why are you tying me up, mom? There’s a BEACH 3 metres away! No dogs allowed? What does that even mean? HA!! A seagull just pooped on mom… serves her right for tying me up so tantalisingly close to the beach! Back in the car, argh! Are we there yet? BEACH!! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!! DOGS! And more DOGS! OOOOHHH, and balls! BALLLLLLLLS!! Oh my gosh, and WATER!!! This is the life! Back home again and I’m pooped… I’m just gonna sneak back upstairs and flake out for the night. Night night!</div>
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MORNING! Quick… I need a wee, my eyeballs are floating, mom!! Oh! Dad will do too, just LET ME OUT!!! Ah awesome! We’re going for a proper walk this early in the morning?! Thanks dad! Seriously, sausages again and all I get is biscuits?! What is this hell I’m living? Back in the car, this is old hat now, I know what I’m meant to do… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Mom’s got my lead, that means WALK! Awesome! Back in the car for some more zzzzz’s. OH HOLY MOLY… there’s Jakey & Pip! YAY!! Hello Jakey! Hello Pip! SO excited to see you guys! BEACH!! Awesome! Argh, what?? No dog beach, AGAIN?! But I wanna swim!</div>
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Ah well, Jakey and I can flirt under the table, I’m fine with that. WOAH! Is that a ball?! Oh my gosh, BALL!!!! Ball! Bal- OH! Mom’s taken it away from me and given it back to those kids. Spoilsport! Time to say goodbye to Jakey & Pip? But WHY? Mooooooooom! Why? Dad? C’mooooon, can we just take them home too?! Finlay and Summer won’t mind, I promise. I checked and everything! Argh, okay. *<b>sniff</b>* Bye Jakey. Bye Pip. See you soon guys! OOOHHH, BEACH!! Awesome! Caves? How awesome is that?! Mom’s telling me not to go there and I think I’ll listen to her… there might be bats or something in there, gross! Oh my gosh, this seaweed stuff tastes delicious! I’m getting tired, can we go home now, please? I’m pooped again, what an awesome day! Goodness, I’m tired, I can hardly keep my eyes open… zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.</div>
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MORNING!!! Oh, we’re going home today? Ahhhhhh, can’t we stay one more day?! I had so much fun! What? We’ll come back? Okay, I’ll hold you to that! Road trip again? BORING! Well, in that case, a girl has to get her beauty sleep, so wake me up when we get there….</div>
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LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-36029497052184238652013-05-08T21:49:00.000+01:002013-05-08T22:14:46.808+01:00Under the Tuscan (slightly overcast on most days, but sometimes bright) Sun!<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
9 years after watching the film that inspired me to want to visit Tuscany, we were finally on our way! If you haven’t been to Tuscany before, do yourself a favour and watch this film… watching it multiple times over the years has kept up my desire to visit.</div>
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It was a very early start – up before 4am and at the airport by 5am. This is what Dave looked like before we went… I still can’t believe that he drove all the way to the airport without having had his obligatory cup of coffee.</div>
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We flew into Pisa and hired a car, then drove about 90 minutes to the little town just outside of Florence where we were staying. Dave had chosen a beautiful 16<sup>th</sup> century farmhouse for our stay and it was absolutely gorgeous – so quintessentially Italian. <a href="http://www.casapalmira.it/" target="_blank">Casa Palmira</a> was the perfect base for our week in Tuscany, close enough for a drive to get something to eat, but far enough away from the hustle and bustle of any town centre.<br />
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The only hitch was that to get to anywhere that had anything resembling food, we had to drive through the most narrow streets we’ve ever seen in our lives! I spent almost the entire holiday jumping with nerves when it looked like we were going to pop a headlight on the stone walls which lined the streets (no such thing as emergency lanes in this place!). Dave did such a brilliant job of driving – there were some fraught times to be had throughout the week, but generally we all accepted that Italian drivers are, on the whole, absolutely maniacally crazy drivers who clearly have no fear of passing over to the other side in a horrific fiery car crash! Or so it seemed. Oh… and they seem to have super powers with regard to removing parked cars from gaps smaller than a watermelon…</div>
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Our B&B was really beautiful, where a huge open fireplace greeted us, for which we were all exceptionally grateful (because despite us all packing for Summer, Summer clearly hadn’t got the memo). A massive sprawling living room, snug, breakfast room & kitchen took up the bottom floor, all of which was open for guests to use as they wished. And we did a lot of relaxing, reading and chatting in there over the course of the week. Dave and I had a 4-poster bed and much to Dave’s upset – no TV. In these days of Kindles & iPads, I have to admit that I didn’t miss having a TV at all.<br />
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Our first day was spent lazing around at the B&B after our early start, we all had a lovely afternoon nap and then ventured up the road in the evening to grab a bit of dinner. Our first pizzas of the holiday went down very well!</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Florence</span></i></div>
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The next day we all hopped into the car and headed out to Fiesole, where we parked the car and jumped on the shuttle bus into Florence. This saved us the task of negotiating road rage-y Italian drivers in the city. We were dropped off in <a href="http://en.firenze-online.com/visit/informations-florence.php?id=51" target="_blank">San Marco Square</a> and made our way down a long alley towards the city centre, stopping to look at street art on the way. </div>
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My breath isn’t often taken away by architecture, but rounding the corner to have Florence Cathedral looming over us was just… WOW! I was speechless for a few seconds, my breath really was taken away by the sight. It was, in a word, simply beautiful. </div>
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We spent a few minutes taking photos before making our way around to the front of the cathedral and into the main piazza. While Dave went inside the cathedral to take some photos, I stayed outside, taking in the atmosphere in the piazza, looking up at the intricate marble carvings and wondering who they were. We figured they were Popes throughout history. I still need to google to find out who the dudes are.</div>
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It was then time for lunch, so we stopped at a little pavement café, which served gorgeous pasta dishes. From there, we took a wander into <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piazza_della_Signoria" target="_blank">Piazza della Signoria</a>, where the replica of the Statue of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_%28Michelangelo%29" target="_blank">David</a> stands. It was originally placed in front of the Academia museum, where it’s original is housed, but it was damaged, and as a result, was moved to its new home. Getting a non-photo-bombed photo was a bit of a challenge, but we managed it.</div>
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From there, we ambled along towards the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ponte_Vecchio" target="_blank">Ponte Vecchio</a>, which looks like nothing from the outside….</div>
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… but is full of exclusive jewellery shops on the inside. It is unbelievable that so many jewellery shops, selling essentially the same thing, can remain in business with this much competition on their doorstep, but they obviously manage and I can only imagine that the sheer number of tourists on the bridge at the time we were there (which isn’t even high season yet) means that they manage just fine! </div>
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It was on the Ponte Vecchio that we stopped for our first Tuscan gelato. And it was SO worth it. I’d have expected nothing less for the price tag attached to it! But it was delicious… and the first of many.</div>
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The rest of that day was spent ambling back towards the bus stop, to catch the bus back to Fiesole, where we stopped off at the local fresh produce market and picked up some pasta, Italian meats, home-made sauces and cheese to make some dinner. A very nice end to a lovely first day.</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Siena, Monteriggioni & San Gimignano</span></i></div>
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I had another ‘WOW’ moment on this day when, after a hour or so spent driving, we rounded the top of a hill and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siena" target="_blank">Siena</a> was sprawled out in front of us. The entire city is monotone beige – there are no splashes of colour anywhere – but somehow, it was a breathtaking sight. Dave and I made our way around the streets which run in concentric circles around the main square.<br />
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The weather wasn’t great, raining on and off the whole day, but on the whole it played ball and stayed dry, if not sunny. We chose a gorgeous, cosy looking restaurant for some lunch and had one of the best meals of our entire trip there.<br />
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When I asked for the bill, our waiter said ‘just pay whatever you think it was worth!’… well, if he’d been serious, we’d have been bankrupt, because it was delicious! We only realised just before we left that it was one of the top 10 places to eat in Sienna, as rated in our trusty guide book. So clearly a good choice! As we were leaving, we got talking to the bohemian-looking waiter who was standing outside smoking and he made a comment about my footwear not being appropriate for the weather (I was wearing flip flops) and he then asked where I was from when he heard my accent. He then told us that he spent 6 months of the year in Antigua and the last time he was there, he sailed around the coast of South Africa… what a life! The heavens opened as we made our way back to meet the others – and picked up an obligatory gelato on the way out!</div>
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We made our way to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monteriggioni" target="_blank">Monteriggioni</a>, which is a town which fits on the head of a pin, so to speak. It is completely encased in ancient stone walls and is 2 streets wide and about 200m long. The real fun started just before we arrived because I had a song stuck in my head, which I randomly started singing. Within 2 seconds, Ayesha had picked up the cue and was singing along with me, much to the boys’ disgust. We continued to sing as we parked up and got out of the car and Ayesha even did the dance that goes with the song, which I believe is now floating around somewhere on YouTube! Now just to get it stuck in all of your heads too, start singing with me… ‘<i>5, 6, 7, 8! My boot scootin’ baby is drivin’ me crazy, my obsession from a western – my dance floor date, my rodeo Romeo, a cowboy God from head to toe, wanna make you mine better get in line, 5, 6 ,7, 8!</i>’ Hee hee! (I bet you'll now wake up in the middle of the night singing this over and over in your head!)</div>
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In a word, Monteriggioni is gorgeous! We all speculated how cool it would be to move all of your friends in there, but the logistics of fitting everybody into a handful of houses soon got the better of us, so we stopped dreaming and continued to walk around in awe of this pretty little place.</div>
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_Gimignano" target="_blank">San Gimignano</a> was last on our list for the day and again, was just beautiful. It’s hard to come up with enough adjectives to describe all of these sweet places. And that’s what they are – sweet, cute, gorgeous, beautiful, quaint – all of them all rolled into one. All of the places we visited on this day were just so full of history, you immediately felt as if you were being transported back in time as soon as you stepped foot in them. I love that people live there – and have probably lived there all their lives – in these tiny stone houses, with curtains for front doors (presumably to keep the insects out, but let the cool air in). Just awesome. San Gimignano is quite hilly and steep, with the main square being at the top and the tiny lanes all plummeting quite steeply down from it. Some of the best Tuscan views we saw were here – really typically Tuscan scenes with rolling fields and tall, skinny trees. </div>
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It had been a long day, but a lovely one and we chilled out by the fire for the evening before we all flaked out. I think we all slept well that night.</div>
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The next day, we drove into <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fiesole" target="_blank">Fiesole</a> and spent the morning at a Roman amphitheatre. The sun was shining and it was such a treat to finally feel warm!<br />
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We then made our way on the bus into Florence again, where Dave climbed the 463 steps up to the top of the dome in Florence Cathedral. It was apparently a beautiful view... I'll take his word for it. I spent that time ambling through some of the most gorgeous views I've ever seen in my life... the Lindt chocolate shop! And of course... the good old gelato couldn't be left out! </div>
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The following day, Dave and I went to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cortona" target="_blank">Cortona</a> – a visit inspired by my film 9 years ago. It was a kind of ‘free’ day in the trip, so we made the decision to just drive and see where we ended up. Cortona, again, is a tiny, stone wall-surrounded city, which is full of character.<br />
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Our first stop was at a tiny deli, which thankfully served hot chocolate, because this African had gone out dressed for a Summer holiday and the temperature was in single figures! Now, I think I’ve described the hot chocolate in Italy before now, but let me tell you again – it is like manna from Heaven. It is literally a melted chocolate bar in a cup… served hot. It certainly did the trick in heating up my insides. </div>
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After Cortona, we drove to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montepulciano" target="_blank">Montepulciano</a>, which is where we stopped for lunch. We originally were going to give Montepulcianno a miss, but I’m really glad we didn’t. Although it could be argued that once you’ve seen one of these little hilltop towns, you’ve seen them all, each of them has their own character and story to tell, so I’m glad we got the chance to fit this one in too. If nothing else, the pizza was amazing!!</div>
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The following day was a relaxation, no sightseeing day. We whiled away the day napping, chatting, eating chocolate, watching videos, listening to the rain & reading. It was a lovely ‘take-a-break’ day.</div>
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On Saturday, we all piled into the car for the long drive to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_marino" target="_blank">San Marino</a>. I didn’t know until we were planning this trip that San Marino is a tiny land-locked country all on its own. Dave and Ayesha have both wanted to visit San Marino since they were small, so for them, it was an extra special day. It took us around two and a half hours to drive there, but as we were driving, the weather improved and when we got there, although it was overcast, it didn’t rain and the sun actually peeked out at certain points during the day. San Marino town centre is actually on the very tip top of a mountain (or I guess a very tall hill would be a more appropriate description), and we had to catch a cable car up to the town. We spent the day ambling around the cobbled streets – the whole place has a medieval feel to it, made even more real by a movie set we passed, which looked like something out of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. The castles here provided the perfect set for this kind of film – no expensive sets required here! It really is a gorgeous little place.</div>
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Our last day finally dawned and although I was sad it had almost come to an end, I was kind of excited at the same time, because we were finally going to see the famous <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leaning_tower_of_pisa" target="_blank">leaning tower</a>! As we were flying out of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pisa" target="_blank">Pisa</a>, we decided to leave it until our last day, so that we didn’t have to make 2 trips and it turned out to be the best day weather-wise of the trip. The sun was shining on us, it was the first day that I was able to lose my jumper and it was just a lovely day to go and see such an iconic site. It really leans!! I know that sounds silly to say, but I really didn’t expect it lean that much. In fact, everything on the site was leaning slightly – it such an awesome place to experience. We had a last pizza of the holiday with the Leaning Tower as a backdrop and then made our way back to the airport to *<b>sniff</b>* wave goodbye to beautiful Tuscany.</div>
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What an amazing trip. Italy, you have never disappointed me and this time was no different. A definite addition to our ever-growing 'must visit again' list!<br />
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For my full photo album, click <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152698983410696.1073741828.805390695&type=1&l=8ee7f59b29" target="_blank">here</a> and for Dave's, click <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152686038970332.1073741826.548870331&type=1&l=66f3f85513" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152709613365332.1073741828.548870331&type=1&l=90a80364f3" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152703795990332.1073741827.548870331&type=1&l=f3a6f799e3" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152726494530332.1073741829.548870331&type=1&l=e6fc4ac7a4" target="_blank">here</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152768629145332.1073741831.548870331&type=1&l=bbeb708b74" target="_blank">here</a> & <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152726834185332.1073741830.548870331&type=1&l=e9e2c5f4ba" target="_blank">here</a>! </div>
LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-39189815170536459372013-05-08T16:01:00.000+01:002013-05-08T21:52:00.175+01:00Dare I say it? Spring is here!Yes, I'm a little scared to jump the gun here, in case I scare the sun away (and that's also why I've waited a week to post these photos!), but Spring definitely seems to have arrived in the UK. Daffodils, bluebells, daisies and blossoms, all coming out to play in the sunshine. <br />
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One of these gorgeous sunny evenings afforded us a great chance to take Luce out for an early evening run-around. So much fun!<br />
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So now that Spring is here, hopefully you won't get hayfever and you'll have time to stop and smell the flowers....<br />
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Happy Spring everyone!LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-44466846938800150432013-05-08T15:57:00.001+01:002013-05-08T15:57:10.992+01:00Best. Sign. Ever!Pure genius.....<br />
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LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3084715295574150816.post-23890770520597338422013-03-19T13:18:00.002+00:002013-03-20T12:15:44.211+00:00A warm winter break to... Iceland<div class="ecxMsoNormal">
This holiday almost seems like a lifetime ago now, because I’m so delayed in getting the blog post up, but it’s been on my mind to do it before we go on our next trip and since that is only 13 days away, I thought I’d better get cracking!</div>
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This trip has been about 18 months in the making. We were meant to go last year, but last minute annual leave restrictions meant putting the brakes on our plans for a year. But the stars finally aligned enough for us to be able to plan it properly, incorporating our friends who came all the way from Switzerland (via Denmark!) for the holiday, so it was well worth it.</div>
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We landed in Iceland from a dreary, rainy England (what’s new, huh?) to bright sunshine. I’m not sure about the rest of our party, but I was sort of shocked. I’m not sure what I expected, but sunshine would have been right near the bottom of the list. Add to that the fact that there was no snow and this blonde chick was thoroughly confused. Iceland? Sunny with no snow… really? As it turns out, winter in Iceland seemed no different snow-wise to England. Well, except for the fact that everything still works and the inhabitants don’t turn into moaning ninnies just at the sight of the first flake of snow. But the thing that struck me most about it was that it was warmer in Iceland than it had been in England! Seriously. It was positively tropical!</div>
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We headed to our hotel on the airport shuttle and checked in, then took a wander down the road to a café for some lunch. We were staying in Reykjavik and chose a hotel that was a very manageable 10 minute walk into the centre. Our friends from Switzerland had arrived the day before us and were out dog sledding when we arrived (very jealous!), so we relaxed the afternoon away after our incredibly early morning and met up with them for dinner. We had booked our Northern Lights tour for our first night, because the tour companies in Iceland all give you a free tour if you don’t see the lights on your first trip. In fact, they give you as many free tours as you need until you get a proper sighting. The 6 of us went out for an early dinner at the gorgeous Italian place next door to the hotel and then got ready for our night of Northern Light spotting. </div>
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Although we stopped 3 times and saw a vaguely green haze, we didn’t see the Lights doing their usual jig in the sky as you see on YouTube or TV. In fact, our little naked eyeballs could hardly pick anything up at all – the only reason I’m willing to say that we did actually see the Northern Lights, was because Dave’s fancy camera picked up a massively splotchy green sky – something we couldn’t see with just our eyes. The contrast from what we could see and what was picked up on Dave’s camera is incredible. While all we saw was a vaguely hazy, albeit very starry sky, this is what Dave’s camera picked up... </div>
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The tour was deemed a failure, because we didn’t see the lights dancing, so we are in for a free tour when we next visit Iceland. It was a good night though – all of us standing in the freezing cold, staring up at a beautifully clear starry sky. It was really special.</div>
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The following day after breakfast, 4 of us set off on a walk into Reykjavik centre. We spent a couple of hours walking around and into the little shops. We went down to the harbour and saw the conference centre and its impressive glass exterior. It’s a pity that the sun wasn’t shining, because it’s supposed to be pretty spectacular when the sun shines off it.<br />
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We also made a stop at the most famous hot dog stand in Reykjavik – a very unassuming little wooden hut, completely hidden by the barriers from the adjoining construction site, but that doesn’t deter the locals, obviously, because we still had to stand in a queue! They were delicious, so it was worth the wait.</div>
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That afternoon, we headed off to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_Lagoon_(geothermal_spa)" target="_blank">Blue Lagoon</a>. This was one of the most anticipated visits on our trip and we were all looking forward to an afternoon spent lazing in the hot springs. And it didn’t disappoint. I was really worried about getting from the changing room to the water because the temperature outside had dropped considerably from the day before when we landed, but of course I needn't have worried, because they are well prepared and you are able to enter the water whilst still inside the building and then move to the outside through a massive door. The cold hits you square in the face, but the rest of you doesn’t care, because the water was so lovely and warm. Every now and then all of us girls would squeal in unison when a cold current hit us, but on the whole, the entire pool ranged from quite warm to quite hot. We found one spot which was very hot, but it was such a small spot that we took it in couples to wallow in it, while the others languished in the quite hot part. <br />
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One of the things that is advertised at the Blue Lagoon is natural mud which can be used as a face mask. Despite searching everywhere, we couldn’t find it – we could see people with it on their faces, but we just couldn’t find it. Finally, at one point when I put my foot down on the ground, it landed on something really squishy…… hmmm. It was absolutely gross and I nearly had a heart attack at the prospect of what was under my foot, but one of the boys were brave enough to put their hand down and bring it to the surface and we’d found it! Mud! Dave promptly put it all over his face whilst I was inspecting it and found numerous black hairs in it. I nearly hurled – and passed out laughing at the same time when I looked up to see this hair-laden stuff plastered all over my husband’s face!! I then asked a passing patrol man where we could find the mud and he pointed over to the far side of the lagoon and then looked at Dave with a puzzled look on his face and said ‘it’s much cleaner than the mud he’s got on his face’. HA HA! So essentially it was the same stuff, just cleaned out and purified to a certain extent – certainly sans hair at any rate. So we all waded over to the other side of the lagoon and gave ourselves face masks. Getting out of the lagoon after 2 hours was really strange… all of us girls felt a bit light-headed and needed a minute before we could carry on to the showers to get ready to go home. It didn’t last long, thankfully, but it was a very strange feeling.</div>
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That night, we were contemplating booking onto our free Northern Lights tour, but the weather was too overcast and the tour didn’t go out, so we just took a walk into town and found a Thai restaurant to have dinner at. It was a lovely end to a very nice day, surrounded by good friends, good food and good conversation.</div>
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The following day after a very early breakfast, the tour company picked us up for our <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_Circle_(Iceland)" target="_blank">Golden Circle</a> tour. A trip around the Golden Circle in Iceland involves visiting 4 important (mainly geological) sites and is a full day tour. We were lucky enough (read into that any level of sarcasm that you’d like) to bags ourselves a singing tour guide. A <em>singing</em> one. For a full day tour – on a bus with nowhere else to go, we got a singing tour guide. She loved singing. Badly. She sang, on average, every 30 minutes. She said that she believes that a life without singing is a life not worth living. After her 6<sup>th</sup> song, my life wasn’t worth living. Our first stop was a greenhouse village where we were told about the produce that is grown there and had the chance to taste some fresh tomato soup if we wanted (I didn’t). <br />
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The next stop was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gullfoss" target="_blank">Gullfoss</a> (meaning ‘golden falls’), an absolutely gorgeous waterfall, half of which was flowing, the other half of which was completely frozen. The landscape here was like something from the moon. <br />
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It was a really very pretty site to visit and highly recommended if you ever find yourself in Iceland.<br />
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Our next stop was to see the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Geysir" target="_blank">Geysir</a> & <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strokkur" target="_blank">Strokkur</a> geysers. The word 'geyser' got its name from this geothermal spring. Geysir itself doesn’t erupt regularly anymore, but Strokkur was unfailing in providing us with a spectacular eruption every 3-4 minutes. <br />
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Click <a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10152521759355696&l=3296435394550738674" target="_blank">here</a> for a short video.<br />
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Again, the landscape was really pretty – even the sulphur smell didn’t detract from spectacular scenery around us. <br />
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Our last stop was to <span lang="IS"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%9Eingvellir" target="_blank">Þingvellir</a></span><span lang="IS">, where the Icelandic parliament was founded. There isn‘t a great deal to see here, but the views are amazing. </span><br />
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<span lang="IS">We were then on our way back after a very eventful day. One thing we learnt from the singing tour guide was the Icelandic people‘s belief in Elves. There are even little elf houses built on some properties and in the mountains. It was kind of cute actually. She did admit though that she had never seen one. That night, we again contemplated booking onto our free Northern Lights tour, but again it didn‘t go out due to the visibility. So it‘s a really good job that we had booked to go on our first night, because as it happened, it was the only night that the tour ran during our entire stay.</span></div>
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<span lang="IS">We took a walk into town to have dinner in a traditional Icelandic restaurant. It was a really lovely cosy atmosphere in a ‘saloon‘ type of place. Dimly lit with wooden beams and far too many tables squashed in for the space available, it was awesome! And to go with the atmosphere, the food was amazing too. Dave claims to have had the best meal he‘s ever had in his life there – I make a pretty mean spaghetti bolognaise, but whatever! My meal was pretty delicious too, so all-in-all a good choice for dinner. On the way back we saw this... </span><br />
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<span lang="IS">You know... because all good city centres should have a painted mural teaching you how to do your tie in 3 different ways.</span></div>
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<span lang="IS">Mark & Marlen had a very early start, so we said goodnight and goodbye to them when we got back to the hotel. The rest of us who were heading back to the UK had a slightly later start, but still had to be in the breakfast room at 7am as they started serving, because our transport was picking us up at 8am. And so the bus arrived and with it the end of a lovely holiday. One that had been over a year in the making, so I was really chuffed to have finally done it. The minute we arrived back at home, Dave was on his laptop, looking up flights for a trip back in Summer. He‘d really like to do a photographic holiday of Iceland – something that costs upwards of £5000 each! </span><br />
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<span lang="IS">So Iceland... we‘ll definitely be back soon. We won‘t be spending £10,000 on a photographic holiday, but we will be back!</span><br />
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Click <a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152515484710332.959954.548870331&type=1&l=1a5c8d805b" target="_blank">here</a> for Dave's photo and <a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10152525471525696.951842.805390695&type=3&l=ffba171d9d" target="_blank">here</a> for mine.</div>
LKPonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13851282428334067569noreply@blogger.com0