Nollaig Shona Duit

Which is Merry Christmas don’t you know in Gaelic. This is so much more than just a travel blog for our friends and family – it’s an educational lesson around the world!



So, if you didn’t pick up already, we are sending love to you all from Ireland, where we are currently five nights into an eleven night road trip through Ireland, with a stint in Edinburgh for New Years, followed by a dash to Liverpool on the way home. Mum and Gemma are over for Christmas, so we’re taking advantage of Brad’s car and seeing Ireland the way it is meant to be explored. And boy oh boy are we seeing it thoroughly – we’re seeing every nook and cranny and really getting off the beaten track. It’s also the mildest winter Europe has experienced in 50 years and Ireland’s warmest Christmas on record!

We left London on the 22nd where we spent the first night in a tiny town called Penmachno, in Snowdonia, Wales, just outside of a slightly bigger tiny town called Betsw-y-coed. Our accommodation was as quaint as hell, in a stone pub, complete with steaming mulled wine and fresh mince pies straight from the oven – all free of charge. We had a drink and a bit of a chat with the locals and unfortunately (or thankfully depending upon who you ask) had just missed the local brass band who had popped in to play a few Christmas Carols.



We were up and on the road at about 9am the next morning, stopping off at an adorable wee Welsh diner for brekkie. A bacon and egg bap later, we set off for Holyhead where we were catching the 1.50pm ferry to Dublin. Despite the copious excited screaming kids, each one screeching louder than the last at the thought of Santa’s impending visit, it was an enjoyable journey and it was a short trip to our hostel in the centre of Temple Bar, Dublin. It was a bit of an eye-opener for Gems and Mum given it was their first hostel experience, but we are well-used to it and thought it was above average. We set off into the streets, stopped for a truly terrible dinner and a few pints of much more agreeable cider, before we hot-footed it back to our hostel’s pub where we set up shop to listen to a local due play some classic Irish tunes – complete with green Santa hats of course.




After a token terrible sleep thanks to the noises Gems makes in her sleep (those from my side will feel our pain) we jumped out of bed with a spring in our step, just a tad excited it was Christmas eve. Mum and Gems did the walking tour through Dublin, while Brad and I jumped on the grenade and headed to the supermarket to pick up food for our Xmas feast the next day. We also found time to stop at a crafts store so Gemma could pick up some knitting needles and wool to knit me up another cute hat. Bonza!



Next stop – Cork! The drive flew by as we peered out at towns like Kilkenny, as well as stopped off for lunch at a truly local pub in the middle of nowhere, where we could hardly understand a word the barman said. So far we’ve found Ireland to be a lot less pleasing on the eye than Scotland – you really get a feel for how the country has been stricken by poverty and famine throughout history. It’s quite barren and with a population of about 4 million, everything is quite sparse. The people make up for it though with their charm.

We stayed at an absolutely amazing place in Cork – Garnish House, which is a glorious wee B&B with even better breakfasts. We essentially managed to get an entire house to ourselves almost, which was very welcome given Christmas Day was spent lounging around, stuffing ourselves sick, watching DVDs and playing board games. We also managed more than a few Skype dates, as well as a walk through Cork, guided by an ever so informative pamphlet!





Boxing Day we were up and at breakfast like a shot where we once again stuffed ourselves full. We reluctantly bid Cork goodbye and set off for the infamous Blarney Castle, which was a lot cooler than I imagined. Again, we seemed to have the run of the place and we ran around giggling like nutters, exploring every little turn and posing like loons. That is until we looked up and saw two attendants had been watching us the entire time! We eventually managed to climb our way to the top where we went through the excruciating process of kissing the actual stone. This was no mean feat and involved you lying on your back, assisted by an attendant and basically lowering yourself off the castle the wrong way, trying not to look at the ground a hundred metres or so below you. Brad and Gemma did so successfully; I was a little more hesitant but managed to tick the box. Mum on the other hand, as you might remember from the Lille Ferris Wheel incident, is more than a little terrified of heights. After much persuasion we manage to get her on the ground ready to go, but as soon as she caught one look of the ground, the eyes are overcome with a wild look and the swear words start flowing! The attendant quickly helped her up; while Brad, Gemma and I were laughing so hard we had to walk away. Not exactly sympathetic! She apologised profusely afterwards for ‘taking the lords name in vain’, terrified she’d offended him due to Ireland being a staunchly Catholic nature. He smiled and assured her that he had heard a lot worse in his time!






We then spent some time exploring the grounds, which were straight out of leprechaun and fairy territory and full of beautiful sights at every twist and turn. We indulged in every superstitious activity we could – kissing the blarney stone for the gift of the gab, walking up and down the slippery wishing steps backwards, with our eyes closed – I tell you, the fact none of us slipped over and cracked our heads is miracle enough!



After a few hours of fun we set off for Killarney which marked the start of the infamous Ring of Kerry, tipped to be one of the world’s most beautiful drives. We stopped for a quick picnic lunch just as the rain started, before setting off on the beautiful road – much of which was coastal. Once again Brad had hit gold and booked us a cosy wee gem of a place, above a pub, standing alone and overlooking the water. As we were the only ones staying in the whole complex we were upgraded to an apartment which had priceless views, as well as a coveted TV/DVD player. Given the weather we unanimously decided to drive into the nearby town of Cahersiveen and buy what we could at the tiny supermarket, before heading back home for DVDs. The rest of the evening flew by as we watched my favourite TV show back to back, while Brad had a few pints with the locals. He was down there for a few hours before he gave up trying to understand what everyone was saying and joined the girls!




Which brings me to this morning... We were on the road at 10am, with a big day of driving ahead – although all of it was gorgeous. We navigated the latter part of the Ring of Kerry, stopping every so often for gorgeous photo opportunities and ending up back in Killarney, after a sweet drive through the national park. From there it was a few short hours to Galway, via Limerick.





Once again we managed to strike gold with an upgrade to possibly one of the world’s fanciest apartments. Brad and Gemma spent the afternoon relaxing, while Mum and I ventured out into the windy streets for a look around, via a cute shoe shop! One pair of black heels later and I’m away laughing!

Galway is great and we’re looking forward to seeing more of it tomorrow. Until then, much love!

x

Bruges, nek minute Lille

It is with much excitement that I introduce two new subjects to the travel blog, although they will be familiar to you all – one Mother Duck and one sister, Gemma Kay, who arrived in the Northern Hemisphere and into my open waiting arms last Friday. In just a few short days they have seen enough of London to make even native Londoners hang their head in shame, not to mention a weekend stint on ‘the continent’, just a few short hours after landing!

Despite the jet lag, we were up and at it on Saturday morning and a few hours later, after a quick detour to see Dover castle and the white cliffs, we were popping under the English channel via the Eurotunnel and in France, where we drive straight to Bruges, Belgium. Our third time in Bruges did not disappoint and with Mum and Gemma there, it was like seeing it all with fresh eyes.



We were staying at a cute little B&B, with an owner who was as kind as pie – a true Belgian, which Mum took to like a duck to water. She relished the opportunity to find out as much as she could about life in Belgium, taking particular fondness to his pet cat whose name, pronounced Boosh me, means little angel.



We spent the afternoon wandering the streets, stuffing our faces with Belgian frites, soaking it all up, before hiding out the cold weather in a cozy little restaurant/ pub down a cobbled side street, which is where Mum and Gemma had their first taste of mulled wine. It was here that we noticed they were both about to drop dead from exhaustion if they didn’t get home to bed that instant, so after a quick dinner we were all tucked up in bed and asleep by 8.30pm!





After a 12 hour sleep, we managed to drag ourselves out of bed and down to breakfast, only to be greet with Mum and Gemma looking as fresh as daisies and chewing the owner’s ear off about the history of his B&B, the city Bruges, his personal life and of course, little Boosh Me. The only thing they probably didn’t know was his mother’s maiden name! Breakfast was delicious and he had laid out a real spread, each bite more beautiful than the last. I know Gems and Mum were blown away by it and having such fresh enthusiasm really made the experience for us as well – it was like seeing it all again with fresh, not quite so travel-tired eyes and it reminded us of how much we have to be grateful for.





It must be said, while we spent the whole afternoon exploring Belgium the day before, I don’t know how much they both took in thanks to extreme exhaustion, so with this in mind we headed back into the city centre, where everything was very well-received – much more so than the day before. The sun was shining, the weather of course freezing, but nevertheless a glorious day was had. We stumbled across a wee market, drowned ourselves in liquid chocolate, had Belgian waffles and got lost amongst the little cobbles side streets – never a dull moment! We could have stayed here all day, but the allure of another country being just 50 minutes away was too much for the wee tykes and we hit the road in the afternoon, en route to Lille, France, which we first visited last year during the Christmas markets. Unlike last year which was very much in the middle of a blizzard, the sun was shining on Lille and it almost felt as if we were visiting an entirely different city. In fact I would have thought so had Brad, bless him, not been able to navigate me to the best shoe shop ever that I first visited a whole 54 weeks ago. I was blown away then and even more so now, not just with Brad’s extreme navigational skills, but also with the panic which came over me as I grabbed box after box of pretty, cheap shoes from all corners of the room. Mum and Gemma of course joined in and we left the store 30 minutes later with a spring in our step, and Brad weighed down by six boxes of shoes between us – four for me!

We explored the market, looked in shops, stuffed our faces with massive German sausages and sauerkraut and people-watched. I then lead us in the direction of the town square which housed a massive Ferris wheel, providing the best views of the entire city. We all piled in, without a seatbelt in sight, and it wasn’t until we were three metres above ground that Mum started to panic, remembering how much she hated heights! She went white and all she could manage to say was ‘I don’t know what I’m doing up here, how did I ever agree to this, I hate heights… Gemma stop touching me!’ We coached her through it, but still she stared at her feet, refusing to soak up the sights, saying she’d look at the view in my photos thank you very much! She survived, despite my newsreader torments of: ‘Four Kiwis were tragically killed today after a Ferris wheel ride took a turn for the worse at a Christmas market in a small town in North-West France. While the Lille city council is yet to comment on the tragedy, it is understood by One News that the victims were said to be visiting relatives for Christmas.’ In retrospect, it was very nasty of me and I am expecting a lump of coal from Santa this Xmas!





We made it back to Calais, ready to catch the Eurotunnel back only to find that it had shut down due to technical issues! Just as we were contemplating a night in the car, it kicked up again a few hours later but by this stage the back log was enormous. We had a reservation for our favorite 15th century country pub on the way home and with stomachs rumbling, I decided enough was enough. While everyone was yelling, pulling the fingers at one another and tearing hair out, I decided that this constituted an emergency. Without further ado I jumped out and asked the person directing traffic if we could skip to the front on account of having to catch a flight out of Heathrow – while it was a lie of course, we had also got there before most people on account of being super organized so I was damned if we were going to sleep in the car because some other jack arse who got their five minutes before closing snitched our spot! No-one puts Gemma and Mum in a corner!



So while we were an hour late, we made it to our beloved pub and with full bellies, back to London. Next stop – Ireland!

x

Swede As

Hey-hey,

Which is how the Swedish say hello did you know. As I write this I am sitting at Arlanda airport in Stockholm waiting to catch the plane back to London. I'm wearing five layers, as well as two pairs of pants and two scarves. Given this is our fourth international weekend away in five weeks, I'm rather looking forward to heading back home to grey London.

We flew into Stockholm on Friday night and by the time we got to our hostel and got to bed it was 2am. Our room consisted of a bunk - that's all. Not to worry though as we would spend plenty of time outside ensuring that the claustrophobia was never too overwhelming.

Our first foray into Stockholm was a little Kiwi cafe called Kura, run by a couple of NZ lads who's married Swedes. After a delicious breakfast we wrapped up ready to face the freezing temperatures yet again as we wandered through the streets en route to Gamla Stan, Stockholm's old town which is on a little island, connected by a big bridge which houses the Swedish parliament. Here we explored one of three Christmas markets currently running, before the crowds got too much and we instead decided to head to Skansen - another island, recommended by a Swedish friend.



Stockholm is very pretty and as it is surrounded by the sea, it's also pretty freezing too! We walked along the sea, bracing winds so cold that we couldn't feel our faces and every few minutes had to go indoors just to look at a shop. All very well and good, until one shop on water saw Brad running back on shore with a pale face and thoughts of vomit. We'd been tasting the marzipan and it seems all those almonds and the rocking off the shop boat didn't agree with my wee lad. Back to shore and back on our way. When we got to Skansen we decided that it really would be better to head back the next day when we could actually see it, as it was now 2.30pm and you guessed it - dark! Even though it's the middle of the afternoon the lack of sun tricks you into thinking you should be asleep and we were suddenly quite exhausted. With plans to head back the next day, we headed home via the scenic route stopping every two minutes to take photos of Stockholm's very festive streets. With the official home of Santa being Finland, the Scandinavians seem to get into the Christmas season more than anyone. Coke even bring out something called 'Christmas soft drink' (such an original name), which Brad guzzled by the bottle.





By the time we got home it was 4.30pm and we decided to read and relax for an hour or two before heading back out. At 10pm and an entire book later, we realised that dinner wasn't going to happen. Luckily Brad had the good sense to have picked up a few goodies from the supermarket that afternoon, including a bottle of Glogg - Swedish mulled wine, mixed with cognac. Delicious and oh so festive.

The next day we were up and out, en route to Skansen in record time. After deciding to pay to get into the world's oldest open air museum, we were delighted to learn that it was also a zoo, with a Scandinavian animals section. After a lunch of moose and potatoes in cranberry cream cheese sauce (it was as good as it sounds), we went to check out a live one, as well as other native animals like wolverines (ugly things), wolves, reindeer, otters and a grey seal. Adopting a policy of five mins inside, to five mins outside, we also spent plenty of time indoors at various exhibits including glass-making. Even though we'd seen how it was done two weeks before in Venice, sitting inside in the warmth watching them create amazing glass ornaments from scratch was very soothing. We spent the entire day at Skansen and when we left at 4pm, if it wasn't for the street lights we wouldn't have been able to see our hands in front of our faces!







On the way home we stopped off at another Christmas market where we munched on gingerbread over a cup of glogg, whilst watching the ice-skaters. Sweet tooth not satisfied, we then stopped off at the mall to down a big piece of frosted brownie, complete with ice-cream on top. My kind of desert!



Home sweet home for an hour or two, before another walk around the city to soak up the festivity. No dinner needed!





This morning we woke up with a fire in our bellies, which wasn't just due to the lack of dinner the night before - we were keen to hit the streets, this time heading to a different part of Stockholm - the trendy, cool area where apparently tourists are as rare as hens teeth. Trying not to slip over on frost, we made our way across various bridges before spending a few hours soaking it all up.



Now for the fun part - Stockholm is known as the best place to shop and I'd been on my very best behaviour all weekend under the agreement that on Monday I'd have a chance to check out a few stores, whilst Brad had a few coffees. Although I only walked away with two singlets (why they sell these in Scandinavia I have no idea - it'd be far too freezing to ever wear anything so flimsy), it was fun having the potential option of buying up a storm without a bored Brad mooching behind me.



Our final stop was lunch at an amazing wee cafe, which served us a traditional Swedish lunch and one of our top five travel meals yet. Delicious pasta and bread with a ton of crayfish for Brad and chicken for me. Mouthwatering!

An easy bus ride later and here we are. We had a glorious time although it's no lie to say that we are looking forward to 10 days at home before the next trip!

X