Category: Lock Down – No place like Home

I just downloaded my photos which was a really good idea because it reminded me of the calmness and serenity of how the day began, which was in stark contrast to how it finished.

Good morning from the room with a view in Portmeiron.

We stayed at the most amazing place, just outside Porthmadog which was our original destination due to the fact it was by the sea, or so I thought.  Alas it was not and I was wanting the sea so we travelled a little further. The darkness falls really quickly and I might just add a quick note that it helps if your car has its headlights on but that’s another story for another day.  We pulled up at Portmeiron gates, fed up and settling for anything really,  asked if there  was a vacancy and whola, dinner, bed and breakfast, all immediate problems solved.

Our room was at the top of a windy staircase and a long narrow creaky boarded hallway.  Just another few steps and not quite the attic.  I am not carrying the bag of course but on the plus side there is only one as I had the sense to pack everything we weren’t going to need for a few days in another bag and leave it in the car.   Our room is very quaint with all that that word encompasses.  We are in need of food but probably more particular of wine.

Our hotel with attic room on the end at the left.

Our dinner was superb.  A three course meal, although no course was very large and it was great.  Beetroot and carrot tart, followed by butternut tortellini with brocollini, followed by Eaton mess with raspberry and rose water.   WH has crusted duck egg, venison and parsnip and blueberry soufflé.  Sorry but you really had to be there so no point in describing more.

We are still early to bed early to rise and as you can see by the above photo dawn broke to a spectacular day.  The place we were at was beautiful in its absurdity.  A little faux Italian village complete with domes and Roman pillars and waterfalls, on the Welsh coast.

We climbed up to the top and wandered around and then headed back for the best breakfast we have had for a long time.  No soggy sideboard full of lukewarm sausage , WH orders smoked kippers and poached egg and I ever adventurous order eggs Benedict.  Both were lovely served with hot tea and toast delivered to your table.

We bid farewell to Hotel Portmeiron and decide to cross over Snowdonia National Park and  head towards the tallest canal,  Pontcysyllte aqua duct. But first just one more photo.

The drive through Snowdonia Park is lovely. Sometimes we get down to a single lane with no road marking but it’s nothing like Italy.  It’s tarsealed and open and there are not huge drops on either side.   The mountains are made of stone or probably more accurately, slate, but I have no idea.  I just know they are black and shingley and barren.

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The countryside is pretty, with endless stone walls and dreary grey stone houses.  Every now and then we pass a village and think, perhaps Stella lives here? Or maybe Gav and Stacey. (For those of you not in the know they are two great welsh comedy programmes)

We stop for a photo op but end up having lunch at the pub as it’s the only place to park.  Turns out the sun wasn’t right for photos and I haven’t got a filter but the ham, lettuce and tomato sandwich was just like home and delicious.  The pub is at the end of the swing bridge and they have photos of the water running over the top of the boards, and yes nay saying children I did walk across.

We moved on from here to the aqua duct and again were met with low, weak sun, straight into the lens. I know I shouldn’t complain and just seize the moment but I am disappointed.   The aqua duct height is out of my league and I make it about 15 metres in.  It is a sheer drop on the other side of the canal as in bad photo below.

The engineering feat is quite amazing, and it’s history absorbing so well worth a visit.

With leave here and head for Ludlow but 30 minutes into it we realise it will be nearly dark when we get there so we abandon it and back track again this time headed for the Novotel at Birmingham airport.  Our plan is to check in and get rid of our bags then drop the rental car back and that way we don’t have to worry about it in the morning.

But first one more gentle reminder of the peaceful journey meandering through the picturesque Welsh countryside.

Somewhere in Snowdonia

Night drops like a curtain, but this time we have lights so all good.  Motorways Criss Cross each other, but we have sat nav so all good.  Take the A this and the M that, the 2nd exit, and the third lane.  With only one hiccup of entering a car park which we then had to pay 2 quid to get out of, we arrive at the Novotel.  We check in and drop our bags, all going to plan so far and we head back out to take the car back – just down the road.   WH mentions that we haven’t filled it up so we hit “fuel near our location” on sat nav and proceed to the highlighted route.

We sail past the petrol station as the sat nav lady, who has been pretty good in the countryside, tells us we have reached our destination on the left.  Oh yes it is on the left, but two lanes over and on a slip way.   We recalculate, recalculate.  Off the motorway and take the 3rd exit.  Who has time to count, what lane should we be in. One, two, three, off.  Nope wrong.  Recalculating, recalculating.  We actually end up in the countryside near Coventry which is bit funny really.  We search again for fuel near us and this time we end up at a defunct petrol station which is now a car sales.  Recalculating, recalculating.

”please” I implore just take the bloody car back and pay extortionist fuel prices.  “Nope it’s a challenge now, it can be done” WH is on a mission.   Back again to the motorway.  Take the 6th exit.   Noooooooooooooo wrong again.   You get the picture, but in fact we did get fuel and WH has proved yet again that he is far more patient and tolerant than me (just for those of you who doubted).  We dropped the car back and headed for wine.

Must fly as have a plane to Dublin to catch. No time for proofing so apologise in advance.

art of the day.  Exploring the world.  A sculpture from Portmeiron.

We leave the lovely Chester having walked the walls and wandered the streets.  Our little cottage was brilliant not just because of its location but because of its washing machine, and lounge, and couch, and table, and fridge.  If you are ever in Chester this is the place to stay.

We have multiple choices of where to head but decide on Betws-w-Coed, evidently a typical Welsh town.  The drive was pretty and it was nice to arrive and just stroll around.  I bought  the mandatory Christmas decoration and we headed to Beaumaris.

As you can tell by the photos the weather isn’t brilliant but for some reason I expect that of Wales.    The rivers are swollen so it appears we have at least dodged a lot of rain.  The country side on the way to Beaumaris is lovely with winding stone walls marking  the paddocks and humpy stone bridges crossing the streams.  Waterfalls running of the slate hills and sheep with black heads grazing the paddocks.

We cross the the bridge and get a bit lost on our way to Beaumaris but work out it’s because we have ticked the the no motorways on the sat nav, which makes for some dodgy roads at times.  I must admit that our destination was a disappointment so it was lucky that the journey was lovely.  We spent some time wandering  and found this house reportedly the oldest one of its kind in the UK, or so the sign above the door says.Ensure that you take stay away from dehydrating things like alcohol, viagra buy on line caffeine and tobacco. Some individuals believe that the only way to be correct, the reasonable, the cheapest tadalafil moral meaning, but the other behavior way accuses is wrong, unusual, even immoral? Or that sentence, “tube it Black cat white cat, catch a mouse is a good cat.” However, sexual skills are not omnipotent, sex is to love as the premise and foundation, no matter which side, love, carefulness, confidence and patience is indispensable, must eliminate. Kamagra tablets have proved to viagra without side effects be the person to introduce it to you, for this sincerely is the key to exterminating your anxiety disorder for ever. viagra australia view for more Quit smoking and consume alcohol moderately.

We headed down the coast and soon began running out of light and it was only just after 3pm.  We were trying to get to see the sea and it was tantalising close but the roads had other ideas and kept a barrier of land between us.  We finally climbed a hill which said no trucks, no coaches and even proved a bit of match for a trusty Ford Focus but alas by the time we got to the top and found somewhere to pullover the photo op was gone.  A bit like the beautiful valleys we drove through earlier I will have to remember them in my minds eye which is never that reliable.

It now 5 pm and dark and we need to find somewhere to stay which proves a little difficult but we stumble on a little place called Portmeirion. It’s  a little village built by an architect who wants to create a bit of Italy.  Very strange and when it’s light tomorrow I shall show you.

art of the day is a rubbish Gorilla.  In Betws y Coed lots of the shops were saving the Gorillas it must have been there cause.

A rental car in hand, sat nav set to avoid motorways and we leave Birmingham behind and head for Chester.  We take a detour to Ironbridge to view the first iron bridge ever built, and yes it’s under scaffolding.  I begin to feel it’s us,  first  Big Ben, then half the city of Birmingham and now the iron bridge.

Still a pretty place to be and as it’s lunch WH tries out the world famous pork pies, which are actually cold so not my cup of tea.  He informs me they are very good but I decide to settle for a hot sausage roll.

Arriving around 4 after a drama free drive we pulled up at our Airbnb accomodation and it didn’t fail to disappoint.  A cottage, on the river, with windows and doors and more than one room and yes a washing machine.  Pure bliss after a week of hotel rooms.   We are the second story with cute tea rooms underneath.

Despite the comfortable surrounds we still race the day awake so once it’s light enough (barely) we head out to check out the town.  The beauty of this is that there are not many people about which makes it great to take photos but the downside is there is not quite enough light which is not great for photos.In addition, these nutrients can be added with making daily recipes. levitra 20 mg http://psychicchakrareiki.com/ This only takes around 20 minutes to one wholesale generic viagra hour. For all these rectification actions maximum number of physician cialis sale used to prescribe Generic Benicar that has been recommended as the effect of such combinations has not been studied clinically. Treatments for Repeated Penile Failure Condition In case, you have consumed alcohol, then give up the idea of going underwater for your own good and important site brand levitra 20mg to avoid medical complications.

Chester is pretty and you do find something interesting around every corner.  The people are lovely. The cathedral is huge. The weather was kind.  The river is sparkly. The walls are for walking. The Sunny seats for sitting.  It’s all good.

art of the day from the courtyard inside the cathedral.

The train was easy enough and apart from the fact we sat next to a group of 4 guys who had had a big night in London and were now wanting to have a pi##ing competition (excuse my language) about their exploits, it was all fine.    Sleep eluded me the night before and so it was easy to feel aggrieved, but a macho loudmouth in pink tracksuit pants with a very tight white t shirt can easily get your goat up.

We got to our hotel and a nana nap had to be had, there was nothing else for it.  WH woke  me in an hour as discussed earlier, “if I fall asleep don’t let me sleep more than an hour”,   But again I feel aggrieved as it feels far to soon.  I forced myself out of bed and out the door to wander the city.  It was cool out and nothing seemed of interest.  There was lots of construction and not a lot of character.  We stumbled on a canal that at least provided a photo op.

Another loop around and we came across the library, which trust me after our walk the next morning, looks better at night.

We gave up on walking and went back to our hotel for a luke warm bowl of soup  which about summed up Birmingham so far.

The next morning we once again wake way ahead of the dawn and lament the fact that we have useless circadian rhythm, or whatever it’s called.   We wait for the light and then head out thinking we will follow the canal and something will be around the corner to surprise us.
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Nothing was there except again huge amounts of construction and hoardings and the setting up of a Christmas market.   Maybe it’s worth a look in another 5 years when everything’s finished and the hoarding is down, or maybe once Santa’s village is finished and all alight as I think Birmingham may just be better at night.

Tips

Buy your train tickets online and if you don’t care what time you travel then you can get some really good deals.  We got two first class tickets to Birmingham for £1 less than an ordinary ticket.

go to Birmingham in a few years time.  Unless you want to shop as evidently it has a reputation as a great city for shopping.  Especially shoes, check out these which will also be my art of the day.

It was special to be in London on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th year, 100 years on from the end of the First World War.  Remembrance Sunday  is observed as the second Sunday in November and this year, the 100th anniversary of the end of world war 1, fell on remembrance Sunday.

We had a train to catch at lunchtime and couldn’t venture far so decided to walk across Westminster bridge towards Parliament as the taxi driver we had the day before was telling us about the Remembrance Day parade so we though we might get a glimpse.  The bridge was lined with taxis two deep all the way across.  They are poppy taxis that pick up all the serviceman and take them to the cenotaph free of charge and then take them back.  There are hundreds of them, old and new.

We couldn’t get much further than the end of the bridge as the crowds going to the epitaph were huge and we didn’t want to take the chance of  not being able to get back so we wandered back to the river and watched as a flotilla of boats started to emerge.  I hadn’t bought my camera so the photos attached are only off my cell phone.
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As Big Ben tolled out the 11th hour the city stopped and silence fell.  For two minutes you could hear the current run under the bridge and the birds in the trees nearby.   The last post cut through the silence and raised the goosebumps on your skin as you couldn’t help but feel, and remember.  Poppies floated down from the flotilla on the river and a woman onboard led the ode of the fallen soldier.

At 12.30pm, led by Big Ben, all the church bells in England were rung simultaneously.  They call Remembrance Day the nations thank you.  It felt privileged to be in London on this 11th day of November and bear witness to this tribute.  Lest we forget.

I have to write about the test match in its own space, it was an event that deserves the limelight.  As previously discussed I am not a die hard fan but I love the nationalism, the competition and an exciting game.  WH is in his element.

We catch the train with the tens of thousands but it’s all pretty easy.  We even get a seat.  Follow the herds at Twickenham and meet up with WH brother.   There seems to be a lot of Black about and the mood is friendly all round.  Time is spent people watching and eating a German sausage as we wait for an excited kiwi girl currently OEing in London who has scored spare tickets to the game but underestimated the time it takes to get there.

With tickets handed over we head to the game only to meet with the solid people block at security and as dark storm clouds gather it feels as though it may take forever.  It doesn’t.  We are customarily wand waved and checked for contraband and ushered on through just as the first of the rain starts to fall.   A Guinness is acquired and as the rain really starts to make its presence felt we make it to our seats breathing a sigh of relief that they are undercover.

It is now that I notice that our little pocket of black, tucked into corner is minuscule.  We are merely dots in a crowd of 82,257 and the anthems prove it.  The kiwis bluster there way through the Maori version of the anthem, without the words on the big screen the demographic of the kiwi supporters mean there are few who can recite the words and the English version is not much better.  The high operatic voice of the singer doesn’t help either.

Englands turn and the crowd belts out God save the Queen with the passion and vocals of a evangelical choir.  We are in awe.  The Haka takes shape and the English rendition of “swing low” dominates the air space.  It reminds me clearly that we are on someone else’s turf and the fire is not all friendly.  We don’t hear a word and have to imagine the sound of the slapping of skin.  On completion our little corner of black stand up clapping and cheering, if only to make ourselves feel better.

The only time the crowd unite in entirety is the two minutes silence for Remembrance Day,  it is a poignant and moving two minutes to be immersed in such silence amongst so many.  You can literally hear the rain on the roof and it feels like this amazing crowd of 80,000 has breathed in and held its breath together.  The poppies fall in the graphics and we will and do remember them.
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The game itself,  I guess you saw it if you were interested and if you didn’t then you aren’t that interested so I shan’t go on but to say it was great.  The rain poured but in our little corner it didn’t really matter.  The atmosphere was amazing.

I wish I could immerse the sound into this blog as it surely has to be the most memorable. As kiwis our  three All Blacks chant. All BLACKS, All BLACKS, ALL BLACKS, seems so inferior not just because in comparison it is a barely heard whisper but also for its lack of tune and tradition when the deafening singing of the English carries itself like a perfect Mexican wave around the stadium.

We won and yes today the press here bare there teeth and fix the headlines but that’s not the reality.  It was fun and friendly and I have numerous nameless English who we have promised to meet at the final in Japan.  It’s a date.

We vacate our seats and I must admit to being slightly concerned as to how The 80 odd thousand are going to get back so we get more Guinness (or at least WH and his brother do)  I drink  anonymous “white wine” in a plastic bottle and we watch the aussies and welsh on the big screens beneath the stadium.  We eat traditional Cornish  pasties for our dinner and wash it down with more unmarked wine.  We eventually leave and make our way back to the train, again just follow the herds which are still migrating towards the station.

It’s not that hard and the rain is now an intermittent drizzle so life is good and everyone’s happy.   This experience was definitely as much about the journey as the destination.

Singapore- London.  It’s a long way. 14 hours and 15 mins flying time, so add to that the getting to and from and wait time and you’ve pretty much spent 20 hours getting from S to L.  All pretty easy though had an excellent run at both airports security and customs, with no queues and no dramas.   Wish all airports could be the same.

I have to flick my mind back to Singapore in order to remember what we did with our Singapore evening.  We went to the bar at the top of the marina sands building,  floor 57, and drank a Singapore Sling or at least I did and WH had a beer.

View over Gardens of the Bay.  The ships in the harbour are amazing in number, they dot the horizon as far as you can see.  I could say lots more but I am in a hurry as each blink feels like my eyes are too heavy to lift the lids again.  I am trying to stay awake but the brain is rebelling.

So let’s get moving. Had a misty jet lag sleep and gave up pretence at 0500.  I know should of wrote my blog then but didn’t.  Wandered around and then caught a train out to Richmond to have lunch with WH brother.  Was a nice cruisy day.  Found a cool tunnel to subway so check out the photos.   All a stark contrast to the order and straight lines of Singapore, here is a messy melting pot of colour and curves,
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Tips Singapore

Don’t book airport transfers from hotels.  Taxi are very reasonable and readily available.  Taxi cost $17 to airport and was $100 through hotel (granted would have been a flasher car)

Singapore airport great place to chill because it’s so relatively quiet but beware no boarding calls or reminders so keep an eye on time.

Wow it’s warm.  No surprise there but you still get a shock at the humidity.  The energy sapping depletion of fluids leaking from the body makes you realise how those flowers feel when you all of a sudden look at them and in hours it seems they are shrivelled and wilting.  All bent over, hanging towards the ground.  I make it sound worse than it is but three bottles of water consumed on the morning walk around and still by the end of it felt like a wilted flower or Maybe  even spinach.

Came back to the hotel and decided to head to the pool and read books which was a great idea especially as nobody else had had it.  Enjoyed the large pool and sun loungers in solitude until an equally looking wilted couple plodded down the opposite end.  I shall not mention the couple of whippy snappers who flounced out of the gym and dived into the pool, speedos deployed, goggles engaged and swam relentlessly back and forward, then trotted off no doubt to do something terribly interesting and engaging.

We headed out this morning in search of the Sri Mariamman which is the oldest temple in Singapore and as previously mentioned it was hot.  We found a Buddhist temple on the way which had a service being held.  They welcomed us in and we stood in the glow of the gold and plastic flowers, breathing in the sticky incense whilst the devotees chanted to the beat of a drum.  It was actually really soothing, but still hot.

The outside was imposing

We wandered along further down the street and China Town was beginning to open its doors or should I say curtains.   Found the temple we had been looking for, it’s so different from any western style ever seen.  Even the Buddhist one has some sense of familiarity with its alters, and guild but this with its cows and people was very unique, or at least to us.
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We finished wandering through China town which in the photo below looks cool and calm but you can’t feel the offending heat, paired with the sickly incense and the sweat dripping of your forehead.  So it’s time to head back to the hotel and that story is at the beginning.

art of the day

Looks like we made it.  Safely ensconced in Singapore with the foggy head and achy body of the long haul flyer, trying to stay up until at least 9pm in order to reset the body clock or at least try.  I so envy those people who just land go to bed because they are exhausted and wake up in the morning.

Singapore airport is certainly an easy one to land and transit.  We were out and in a cab within 30 mins of landing.   We are staying at the Sofitel in the city which is very nice. Got freshened up and to try and stay awake we went for a wander to see what could be seen and quickly got lost in the concrete jungle with no landmarks to guide us back to our hotel.   The towers all line up like fortresses smothering the ones behind. They are softened by all the greenery, lining  the paths, hanging from buildings, on the rooftops.  But it is very easy to lose your bearings.  The weather is of course muggy warm but a light drizzle accompanied by a gentle breeze seemed to cool it just a little.

With one less day to explore the city, tomorrow is it so here’s hoping for a big sleep and a clear head.
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Art of the day:  Asian doors.

Those of you you who know me well will know that I like to be organised.  I am a person of lists, and to do’s, of check and tick.   Despite my attempts over the years to be a go with the flow, I am more a carve out my own river and create my own flow.   Not liking to follow in the choppy wake of others.  Be organised, be independent, be responsible.  I am the one who looks at others and says, or at least thinks….”for goodness sake, how hard is it?”

I am the one who rants at grown children who check their passports the day before they fly and realise it is expired.  I am the one who finds it unbelievable that someone can finally make it to the security check in: after posters, and screens and loud instruction people, only to have to stop and take their water out of their bag.  I am the one who offers no sympathy but rolls my eyes at their carelessness.  Yes I am the one.

So no doubt you are all wondering “what has she done”, what is the whoops that leads this story as you would all guess by now that we are not “on the road again”.

To try and cut a long story short.  We arrived to check in this morning.  On time of course.  I open up the passport to scan at check in and WHOOPS I have my mother’s. How does this happen? You may well ask, and of course WH and I have asked ourselves many times over the last couple of hours.  It turns out that after a recent large family trip to Fiji, with 18 of us and bags and airport assist and rushing to catch a connecting flight….I know excuses, excuses…..mine and mum’s passports got switched.

A quick phone call and Mum makes a mad rush to the domestic airport at home with the said passport, but the plane doors have just closed so nope no can do.   She puts it on the next flight and we head to the assistance counter to see our options.   Turns out it’s easier to just ring the air nz number and the good news is we didn’t get the “caller demand is heavier than usual”. But a lovely lady who re-booked us for the next day and even waived the service fee, a small but lovely consolation for my stupidity.   Perhaps that will teach me to have more tolerance next time I am behind the “dumbass” in the queue who doesn’t tip out there water or one of the family doesn’t check their passport, you never know.
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I still feel a need to defend myself.  I know my passport number and expiry date off by heart.   I have a reminder in my calendar, on outlook and myairnz app to warn me if it’s going to expire.   I checked those passports whereabouts a week ago.  Check. Tick.   I put those passports in the suitcase the night before.  Check. Tick. I double checked on the morning of the flight.  One, two passports.  Check. Tick.  The moral of the story is open the bloody thing up.  Take nothing for granted and I guess also that shit happens.

So meanwhile we sit and await the domestic plane with the passport on it.  Then we will spend the night and try again tomorrow.  I am remarkably chilled, probably because it’s my stuff up, but as we know there are far greater things to stress about than flying  out a day later.

Tip

CHECK YOU HAVE YOUR OWN PASSPORT.