Three Kiwis and a Turkey

When Mum booked to come over for the month of August, we had three clear purposes: to show her a good time, to introduce her to more of Europe, and finally to have a relaxing time ourselves thanks to a hideously busy year. Heading to Turkey was a no brainer - sunny, relaxing, different and so much to see and do, which is how we came to find ourselves boarding a plane one Monday evening, destination Bodrum, Turkey.

 

 

 Bodrum, is widely referred to as the Turkish Riviera and we were staying in a small town called Gumbet - an old fishing village, now resort area and absolutely perfect for what we had in mind. We researched for months and when we stumbled across this deal we struck gold - the perfect balance between luxury and affordability.
 

 

Thanks to a lengthy flight, the time difference and a long wait for bags the other side; we arrived at our hotel at around 3am, feeling cranky, nervous and desperately tired. When we were shown to our shoddy, make that appalling, room by a nervous looking member of staff we just about lost the plot. Luckily we had done our research and learned that this had happened to a number of people and were informed that they would try sort us out a better room first thing in the morning. Pissed off, we had a fitful sleep before Brad was up at first light ready to fight for us. Surprisingly a fight wasn't needed and he came back, grinning like the Cheshire cat, with news that we were moving to a far nicer, and far larger, room poolside! Go B!

We set off to breakfast feeling much lighter - even more so when we saw our hotel was right on the beach and every morning we would be treated to a view of the sparkling Aegean ocean whilst stuffing our faces with olives, feta, omelets and enough fruit to sink a ship. Lush doesn't even begin to describe it.

 

We ran back to our room, anxious and fraught with indecision about whether to go poolside or sit on the beach - you've got to love a holiday! This became our biggest issue each day, as well as where to have dinner. We settled on poolside and quickly established a routine which saw Mum get up early, pop the towels out in 'our spot', before coming back to bed. We'd then meander for brekkie at around 9.30am, before lolling the two metres back to the pool where we would spend the day sunning ourselves like a walrus. The days were broken up with lilo races, ice-cream runs (magnum beyaz was the preferred choice) and of course lunch at our hotel. Our itinerary then saw us head back to the pool to repeat the above. We were averaging a book each every 1.5 days! As I type this I can still smell the air - lush.

The nights were spent first comparing the level of tan acquired that day, before we set off for dinner. We took it in turns, being harassed by restaurant owners, negotiating deals, and then rating each other’s choices. One factor remained the same across the week - we were always sitting at a table on the beach, just centimeters away from the sea. Brad came out on top, choosing an absolute gem down the other end of the beach, which we went back to several times.

 

 

That's not to say we didn't venture out and do things - far from it. We managed to get ripped off by a camel man, Mum won a ring, we were dragged into a belly dancing lesson with a transvestite, smoked shisha like locals, as well as took a trip around neighbouring Bodrum. We had event-filled evening trips to town every night, shopping, haggling, witnessing an almost stabbing, leaving sunglasses and then sunscreen at a neighbouring shop then having to return shame-faced two nights in a row after we told the shopkeeper to stick his deal... Our trip was filled with many funny moments and mini-adventures that see me still smile.

We speculated over a family we called the Welshies, wondering how this bizarre mishmash of people were connected. We amused ourselves for days, making up stories and analyzing their every move, only to learn on the last day that the ‘daughter’ and ‘father’ were actually in a relationship, holidaying with his sister and her family. The judgment and people watching didn’t stop there – no one escaped our daydreaming and speculation. There was the sweet Italian family, the skanky Lebanese, the attention seeking Germans etc – all names we gave to innocent holiday-goers! We ourselves didn’t escape the speculation and on the last day we were told by the Welshies that they’d been trying to pick our accents all week. The fun to be had when people watching – the truth never quite lives up to the daydream!

Our week in Turkey was like balm for the soul and just what the doctor ordered! The only thing I would have changed was the time - one week just wasn't enough!

 

 

xx

Ma mere en Paris

It has been a long time in between drinks - partly due to the fact we have cut down the travel somewhat, but also given the fact life has been passing by on super speed lately and we haven't had time to blog about those few trips we have had... One of which was a lovely and leisurely long weekend to Paris back in May, where Brad and I spent an extended bank holiday weekend soaking up the Parisian sun and seeing the more local side of Paris - the roads less travelled! After a very perfect weekend, where we stayed in an apartment overlooking St Germain-des-Pres, inspiration struck and while I was still in Paris, I booked a return journey for Mum and me for when she was to be visiting in August.

Doesn't time fly? In what felt like weeks, Mother Duck stepped out of the arrival gates dragging a rather belligerent suitcase! We had a lovely few days in London, before jetting off to Cornwall, the picturesque coast of South-West England for the weekend, where we seal-watched, fed wild ponies and spent hour after hour in the penny arcades! After another day in London, we were off - destination Paris, centre ville sil vous plait!

Our journey began early, catching the 7.01am train out of Kings Cross and two hours later we arrived! Having stayed previously, I was an old hat at navigating the metro and we arrived in St Germain with plenty of time to enjoy a croissant and coffee. After re-meeting Vincent, our 'landlord', we set off for what ended up being 11 hours, slowly meandering our way along the river Seine.

 

 Given most Parisians flee Paris for August (taking a summer vacation is very important to them), the banks of the Seine had been turned into a bit of a beach, with deck chairs and restaurants dotted along the walk. We stopped for lunch at one of these, which is where Mum experienced her first taste of the real Paris - the one you don't see in the movies. Arrogant waiting staff, meat so rare it’s bleeding, as well as people smoking like chimneys all around us. I'm used to it now, but remember being shocked at the amount of smoking in Europe when I first arrived - as was Mum! We kept trucking our way along the river, stopping every so often for photos at the countless sights and landmarks along the way, before arriving at our destination - le tour d'Eiffel!

Mum isn't good with heights and neither one of us is a fan of queues which extend for hours, so we decided to forgo going up. I'd been up it before and while it is a neat experience, I think the biggest joy comes from seeing the skyline of Paris avec the Eiffel Tower, which you can't see when up it obviously! Instead we walked across to Trocadero where we sat and people watched, before posing for photo after photo.

 

 

We carried on, stopping to buy fresh nectarines from a stall nearby, before we arrived at the Arc de Triomphe and continued down along Champs Elysees.

P

rior to departure, I'd reached out to my Parisian friend, Laetitia, to get an idea of ubiquitous French cafes, where we could enjoy a classic French afternoon tea - she delivered, sending me through option after glorious option! We stopped at the flagship store of perhaps the most iconic macaroon house, Laduree, where we sat down and gorged ourselves on delicious bite after bite. The place was so luxurious and decadent that after our feast, we set off to explore the venue... Leading to this photo... Mother Duck planking at the finest establishment in Paris! You can take the girl out of Hamilton...

 

 

We continued on our merry way stopping at shop after shop along what is the second most expensive shopping strip in the world, second only to Fifth Ave in NYC. We worked up an appetite soon enough and stopped for lunch at a lovely roadside bistro - queue more people watching! After eating our fill, we continued on our merry way before arriving at Place de la Concord, a pretty public park at the end of the Champs Elysees, separating the street from the Louvre. This place is just gorgeous and perfect for people watching - we sat down at the edge of the pond, had a gander, before I had us up and at it again, this time in the direction of a giant Ferris wheel I'd spotted.

 

Avid blog readers will be aware that Mum is terrified of heights - a fear which came to a head the last time she was in France, at the Christmas markets in Lille, when we forced her to go on the Ferris wheel there. For some reason, unbeknown to me, she reluctantly agreed, which is how we found ourselves standing in queue (20€ later - robbery!) being sexually harassed by a gypsy carnival boy, before we set off into the Parisian night sky. As suspected, Mum started to panic two metres into the journey and while I had a wee chuckle at first, it soon became clear this wasn't a laughing matter, and we spend the duration of the trip in silence, interrupted by only the occasional squeak from Mum, and the flash of my camera as we took in the sights.

 

 

Safely on terra firm, we were able to laugh about it (Mum actually thought she was going to soil herself!) and giggled all the way back to the apartment - although it has to be said, she was perhaps a little less enthusiastic than I.

The next morning we pulled together a plan - breakfast/ morning tea at a glorious patisserie, again recommended by Laeti, followed by a walking tour. The night before we'd decided to give it a go as while I was confident in my ability to navigate my way through the city, I couldn't answer the barrage of questions from Ma as we took in the sights - best to hear it from the experts. Although let’s face it, I’m sure you’ll all agree I am a bit of a know-it-all.

So after another glorious meal, we set off to the Latin Quarter (right by our apartment) to kick off the tour at the Hotel des Invallides. The tour took us through much of the sites we had seen the day before, but this time with valued insight from a born and bred Parisian with an American accent - slightly disconcerting!

 

When our tour finished up, wet and exhausted, we walked back to the apartment for a half hour lie down, before we jumped on the metro and headed to Montmarte for a look around Sacre Couer, before our show started at the.... Moulin Rouge! The Sacre Couer was fabulous, but sadly dinner was not and while we had a nice time people watching, only one of my three courses actually arrived. On the bright side at least Mum got to experience the classically arrogant French waiter!

 

 

 

The 9pm session of the Moulin Rouge had sold out and despite getting there an hour early, the place was absolutely packed and we were stuck queuing outside. Paris in August - not recommended if you want to see the sights! We eventually got in and had great seats right at the edge of the stage, although I was occasionally hit in the face with the flick of a feather boa! We weren't allowed to take pictures, but suffice to say you really do understand what all the hype and history is about. It was a phenomenal show! The evening ended up being a bit of a late one for us as after getting a taxi home, we stopped off at a neighbouring bar for un verre du rose and chocolate fondant.

We woke up the next morning with regret at having to leave that day. There were so many things we didn't do, yet we didn't regret a second of our time there! Our day started with breakfast at our local croissanterie, where we set off for the Notre Dame to pay it a visit. We happened to get rather side tracked by a gorgeous boutique clothing store and an hour later, weighed down with bags, we toddled off for the Notre Dame.

When we arrived, we sat down outside to soak it all up - the sheer grandeur of the place, the huge crowds and the heat of the sun all came together rather nicely to make for a relaxing buzz. It was while we were people watching that we noticed a quirky wee man mixing and mingling amongst the people, popping up and giving them a fright, photo-bombing and generally just having a grand old time. It wasn't long before the whole seating area was enthralled with his activity. It became clear, when he pulled out a mask, that he was a busker and it wasn't long before half an hour past while we were caught up in his hilarious antics.

 

The crowd responded generously - it was just so funny and refreshing. He was doing all sorts, such as pushing the girlfriend out of the way and holding a man's hand, walking with him for quite some way before the man noticed and screamed in fright - hilarious!

 

We then slowly wandered our way back to our apartment, enjoying a bite to eat in the sun before regretfully heading to the station to say au revoir!

 

A perfect wee trip, which will stay in mind for a very long time thanks too many happy memories! Paris is a beautiful city and the more I spend time there, the more I love it. I am still a London girl through and through (there’s no better city in the world), but I really do get what all the fuss is about. Spending a gorgeous weekend in spring there with Brad, followed by a trip with Mother Duck, has made me all the more a fan. Now you lot better come over, so we can have our own Parisian adventures!

 

Xx