Well heeled in Puglia

Sunday 8 September

After a horribly early and cold start and a 5am packed train from East Croydon, our flight to Bari lands on time and we make our way to the airport Metro for a 20-minute journey to Bari Centrale, where we master the ticket machine for travel to Lecce, then avail ourselves of fast food joint pizza and beer.

Train journey is just under 2 hours, followed by a 10-minute walk to our accommodation, where we are greeted by the charming Andrea (we communicate quite successfully in broken English and Italian) to his equally charming ground floor 2-bedroomed apartment. It's sympathetically and simply decorated. well equipped but with the rather strange feature of a sunken shower.in Kim's room. Like a bath, with a shower head attached to the taps but with no plug - strange, but handy if you don't want to get your hair wet.

After a little restorative nap, we get ready to go out and Donald and Toni's daughter Izzy and her boyfriend Petr (who just happen to be staying in Lecce for a few weeks as part of their working travels) come round and we walk into the bustling heart of the old town. The buildings are a beautiful honeyed limestone, which looks amazing when its natural sheen and the elaborate Baroque and Rococo architecture are illuminated.

We eat simply at Casa Diana, and then go on for cocktails to a lovely little bar called Baffo, run by several men all with splendid moustaches

The old town isn't that big, and is bordered by a number of large and imposing gates in the wall - but it's a bit of a maze so it doesn't help that our first foray is actually kind of the long way round - so I get completely disorientated and my sense of direction fails me on several occasions over the next 3 days.


Monday 9 September

After finding a nice cafe for coffee and breakfast pastry, we spend the morning orientating ourselves by wandering round, doing a little light shopping and getting our bearings (which didn't really happen for me!), Kim buys a lovely black dress and I splurge on an horrifically expensive necklace (well, 65 euros) which I just like too much to say no to. We find the tourist office and book a walking tour for later that day, and a day trip to Matera, where the people used to live in caves.

For lunch we eat tasty pucce (a kind of panini) and drink lovely craft beer at the South East cafe not far from the Basilica and the Jewish Quarter.

We resolve to come back and visit both the next day - the siesta is taken pretty seriously in Lecce and most places shut up shop. We get lost a lot, but manage to find somewhere to get a few supplies in for breakfast and of course to eat gelato.

We go back for a bit of a rest and then head out again for our walking tour - we're only about 10 minutes' walk from the centre - where we're joined by a couple of slightly strange single travellers and a married couple from Mexico. Our guide is very knowledgeable (she's an exotic mix of Croatian, German and Italian) and we get a lot of background to the complicated history of the city and its various occupants over the centuries. We see lots of palazzos (many of which are now converted into apartments), and I now know the basic difference between Baroque and Rococo (the latter is the more elaborate, but they're often butted up against each other in Lecce when buildings were restored).

Dinner's a bit indifferent in parts at a restaurant we'd spotted next to Baffo - but the Puglian Salento region wine is great and it's still nice and warm sitting outside. And we go back to Baffo for a nightcap before stumbling our way home with the help of Google maps - again.

Tuesday 10 September
Today we buy a ticket that entitles us to visit several churches for 9 euros. Highlights are the Duomo crypt, and the  exterior of Basilicata di Santa Croce really is something. There's so much external decoration you could spend several minutes looking at it and wouldn't take it all in. Chiesa Santa Chiara has a papier mache ceiling (papier mache craft is a very big thing here) though it looks just like wood.

We go to the very interesting Jewish museum which is really a memorial to all the Jews who went before in Lecce - they were driven out several times over the centuries, and although there is a "Jewish quarter" there's really not much of a Jewish population to speak of, and much of their synagogue and architecture was covered up through being built over by the Catholic church. In fact our young guide gets quite emotional and tearful about it, to her surprise and ours, but she recovers well.

We buy savoury focaccia for an al fresco lunch in the pleasant city park  just outside the old town walls, but it's carb overload and we probably don't help ourselves by returning for more craft beer.

After a little rest at the apartment, we visit a little grocer's shop to buy some souvenir orecchietti pasta and other delights, then pay a pre-dinner visit to the bonkers Museum of Fantasy run by identical twins who trade on their past glories in creating special effects for fantasy movies and shows. As young boys, they decided that the best way to get over their fear of monsters was to create them - ingenious but really weird!

We have a great dinner at Volo, which had come recommended - our sharing starters including carapaccio of swordfish is especially good, and I have the best sea bass I've ever tasted, beautifully cooked in a pistachio crust.

Wednesday 11 September
Up early today to get to the nearby city wall gate to be picked up for the trip to Matera. Journey takes a lot longer than expected (providing a useful opportunity to catch up on some sleep, especially as Kim and I aren't able to sit together!) and have to confess until the final stages the scenery is fairly uninteresting as it's pretty flat and agricultural. What we do see is a lot of diseased olive trees - our walking tour guide told us that many plantations (and olives and olive oil are really important to the Puglian economy - I think about 70% of Italy's olive oil comes from this region) have been affected by this deadly fungus and after several years they've only just found a cure for it.

We make a pitstop for half an hour in Groteria, a small town famed for its rather garish ceramics, and find a cafe for our new obsession, caffe con latte di malardra - an iced coffee made with almond milk and espresso. On arrival in Matera (it's very high up), there is much excitement as a film crew is in town making the latest Bond movie. There are lots of men in black with earpieces, lots of 4x4s and a few bits of set dressing here and here, including a clifftop apartment shell. Apparently, 70,000 euros has been spent on coca cola to pour on the smooth streets to make them sticky enough for car chases. If this is true, it's a bit disgusting really though I guess all good for the local economy.



We indulge in carb overload  cheap lunch with a cheap and greasily tasty salami and potato foccacia, and later enjoy organic gelato - it's pretty hot here.

I'm struck by the fact that whilst Matera is famed for its cave dwellings, most of them are now empty and inaccessible or turned into chichi apartments. The terrain in the city is very hilly and it's quite challenging to walk around - though of course the panoramic views are spectacular. The three hours we spend there are enough to take in the sights - at 50 euros each we the trip isn't great value (the guy driving us is no tour guide), but it's certainly an interesting place to visit and it's so remote public transport, whilst more affordable, would've taken ages.

After the long journey back (and we're last to be dropped off - especially annoying as two elderly ladies on the trip are staying in Brindisi!) Kim's not feeling too great so opts for a quiet night in, while I join Izzy and Petr for  dinner at Banco di Mare - unassuming and friendly, and quite delicious.

Thursday 12 September
We get up early and pack, but have plenty of time to spare so go for a stroll and discover all the restaurants and shops we have missed had we just turned left. We also find the right bus stop for Gallipoli (our next port of call, even further down the heel of the boot) and buy our cheapy cheap bus tickets, congratulating ourselves on being sensible enough to do a recce rather than lugging our cases to completely the wrong place to catch the bus. It's very speedy and arrives in a huge parking lot on the edge of Gallipoli new town.

Our Air BnB host has given us a taxi contact - the cab arrives quickly, with a garrulous driver who talked into his phone in Italian then played it back in English to communicate with us, as he's obviously immensely proud of his town - friendly chap, but gets the address wrong (Via Antoinette/Antonio confused) and the fare of 15 euros transforms into only 10 euros for the return trip. Ah well - the sun is shining, the beach is close by and the sight of the sea is very welcome.

Our apartment turns out to be just at the end of the main street, so a brilliant location. It's at the top of a building (a handsome young chap manfully takes both our cases and hoicks both of them up several flights without complaint although it's evidently killing him), and we have our own massive roof terrace, which, although it looks out mainly over other roof terraces with a keyhole view of the sea, affords us a delightful pre-dinner apertivo place to be to watch the sun set every night. The apartment is huge and very clean with comfy beds, though with a useless coffee machine and hairdryer because the plugs don't fit the sockets.

As we're on the main street, shopping will not be a problem (and there are lots of shops selling nice things). There are plenty of gift food and wine shops, but we struggle to find a normal supermercato as even these close at 1pm and when shut look as though abandoned. Eventually we discover a tiny one with a an equally tiny twinkly elderly lady who serves us from behind the counter and has a set of scales that must be as old as me at least. Even as old as her. Kim wants to adopt her and insists we visit again.

For lunch, we eat pucce on the street at a bustling restaurant with a scarecrow in the doorway. We  wander a bit more, check out restaurants and then go to the old town beach. It's not the prettiest, but Kim gets a swim and I have a sleep. No gelato today, but I have a granita on the beach from the smiley and glamorous lady who sells everything from an ancient van parked on the promenade and has evidently been doing so for years, aided and abetted by grandsons.

We have wine and crisps on our terrace and look at the moon and the planets. Kim is very excited that Jupiter appears to be directly above us, and the sunset is spectacular - as it is every night. The old town is very busy and so are the restaurants - we can't find one with available outside seating, so opt for one with modern, non-touristy food and an apprentice waiter who is obviously getting on the nerves of his mentor, especially when we doesn't put our rosato in an  ice bucket. We go for strong late night cocktails at the trendy 801 bar, watch the world go by and stagger back just a little bit tipsy.

Friday 13 September
Kim wants to sleep in a while,  so I venture out alone armed only with a fairly unnecessary phrase book - and walk across the bridge to look at the harbour in the new town. I manage conversations in the pharmacy to buy sulphate-free shampoo and something for my sticky throat - some nasty ampoules which really do work. I find a charming greengrocer with a beautiful little son and equally beautiful displays of colourful produce, and I buy fruit. I would buy the chillis just for decoration if I were at home.

He's next door to a little restaurant in courtyard with quirky decor - a sheltered option for  the windy night that's forecast. I buy a bargain pair of end of season Havaiannas from a severe-looking woman in a shop with lovely things and homewares and lots of No Toccari notices. I won't be visiting again.

We buy take-out pucce for lunch and eat at on our roof terrace. The wind is whipping up and we have to abandon our visit to the beach rather than eat sand. We sunbathe and chill out back on the roof terrace.

Things could be worse, but we do ruefully discover we can't get really get anywhere now that this part of Italy is out of high season - the Otranto bus only goes 3 times a week, Santa Maria de Leuca is doable but we would have 5 hours there, which is probably too much. We acknowledge we should plan better next time, but it's actually quite nice not to be rushing around to places.

Dinner in the courtyard restaurant I found earlier is lovely. We follow it with gelato beside the Duomo with its beautiful light sculpture tree, then go for a nightcap to a bar with enormous white seats in the new town  just across the harbour . The shops are open late and this is fatal as we're still in need of walking off our late dinner.  I buy a recycled, unsubstantial aluminium ring and bangle I really don't need, also some new sleeper earrings, which I do. Kim is tempted but cannot decide on a full stomach, so we resolve to come back next day.

Saturday 14 September
We walk over to new town - not much to see, but a it's a pleasant stroll and we enjoy caffe con latte di malandra - again. We find the station and work out back up plans if for any reason the thrice a day bus back to Lecce doesn't run for our return on Monday.

We buy takeaway pucce again and then set off for Baia Verde as the walk appears to be mainly along a promenade and not the road - yay. We settle for Piccolo Lido di Gallipoli with bright yellow and blue umbrellas and sunbeds as it's not quite so far and will give us more beach time. The sea is calm and clear and we stay a couple of hours - water baby Goldsmith enjoys several refreshing dips. I am thirsty and ask barman for a non-alcoholic granita - instead he charges me 6 euros for something that looks like an aperol spritz without the fizz. I resolve that I really will make more of an effort to learn some Italian before my next visit.

We walk back, shower and go out, popping into the Duomo which is very beautiful inside and out.

Again it proves difficult to find a table at nice restaurants without a reservation, so we go back to the courtyard where I eat the best parmigiana melanzone ever.

We go for gelato near the harbour, and then for a Paloma cocktail (memories of New Orleans) at a trendy bar with eclectic furniture and glamorous, youthful clientele. We fit right in.

The 50 steps up to the apartment feel very steep after that, but we did walk quite a lot that day.

Sunday 15 September
Our last day, so we visit the nearby museum of curiosities - stuffed birds, dead foetuses, shark bones and barnacle-encrusted Greek flagons. And an audio guide in English that they play on loudspeakers while we walk around, which might be a bit annoying for the handful of Italians in there.

I buy local perfume for me but then decide it's a better gift for my sister's birthday. We pay a sentimental visit to the little old lady's allimentari, and make sure our fridge magnet collection is complete. (We've discovered in Puglia that you're never more than a minute away from a souvenir fridge magnet.)

We walk a few kilometres to Baie Verde to a well-managed beach - 20 euros for umbrella and loungers, but the sea is blue and like a millpond. Great big pizzas for 6 euros from the bar which is all sold out of most things. I listen to the Archers Omnibus as I've forgotten my Kindle, and it seems a bit weird.


We stroll back and enjoy the last of the Italian sunshine, do a bit of packing then go to Il Bastione on the sea front for a lovely blow-out dinner on terrace, including more carapaccio of swordfish, and pasta with seafood. We look out to sea and the lighthouse, with petrified wood natural decorations providing a playground for 2 black cats to taunt a large dog. It's still warm. We don't want to go home.

Back to bar 801 for a nightcap, obvs the gay hangout in town (we think Gallipoli may be the Italian equivalent of Sitges near Barcelona), but it's a nice atmosphere and groovy sounds. In bed for midnight.

Monday 16 September

Garrulous taxi man is very quiet on a Monday morning, muttering in irritation at fellow motorists. We get to the bus stop with time to spare, and amuse ourselves by watching the spectacle of a very touchy-feely couple saying their emotional goodbyes as the bus driver attempts to chivvy the woman on to the bus to Napoli. Our bus arrives bang on time, we negotiate the ticket machine at Lecce station and head back to Bari on the train, opting once again for stomach-lining pizza and beer at the same fast food joint. Back to the airport on the Metro, and then, like most airports, we wander round looking at things in the shops that we won't buy at those prices. Flight back to Gatwick is fine, but East Croydon station offers a chilly and dark welcome home.

We loved both Lecce and Gallipoli and would definitely revisit if we could get the transport right to combine it with a trip to the places we missed. The wine and local cuisine is as you might expect - it's reasonably priced and delicious, and probably more calorific than we'd care to investigate further (but we walked loads!) My only gripe, apart from travel from west to east being so very tricky once high season is over - why don't restaurant toilets (even the swisher places) have toilet seats? Do the proprietors fear that diners will walk off with them?

Ciao, bella Italia - arriverderci!

Going for gumbo - a trip to New Orleans

Monday 20 May 2019

Arrived in NOLA (New Orleans Louisianna - the acronym is everywhere) after a comfortable (double seat to myself - whoop!) if chilly flight and 3 movies. Interminable wait at passport control where as usual US Border Security makes you feel like a criminal with finger print and mugshot taking, though at least the guys were friendly. Quick taxi ride, Air BnB accommodation found eventually and specs steamed up as I got out of the cab with the rampant humidity (which thankfully didn't bother me too much the rest of the time). Managed to get in after some fuss as access instructions were a tad unclear and I wasn't at my brightest! Feasted on snacks and beer as I unpacked, very happy with the little shotgun house (so called as back in the day you should have been able to get a clear shot through the house)- went to bed, or rather climbed in as the mattress is at hip height - very comfy though.

Tuesday  21 May

Rose early after fitful night's sleep, rather than lying around getting cross about not sleeping. Walked into city via rather grungy, dusty route and uneven neglected pavements which were to prove my literal downfall later in the day with a spectacular trip and fall on Charles Avenue. 

Arrived at Canal Street and then meandered to Jackson Square for walking tour - area round Bourbon St still quite sleepy at that time, though you can still feel the sleaze. Stopped for coffee and super-sickly almond croissant at Cafe Beignet and enjoyed a jazz trio playing with remarkable energy at 9.15am. Entertaining walking tour of the French Quarter with guide Alec who was about to leave for a Europe trip. Lots of info, some of which I can recall, especially the quirkier details concerning early settlers. French Q is by turns pretty, charming, cultured and sleazy. The well-heeled and the drunken and down and out are present in equal quantities, but along Royale and Chartres I saw more antique shops and art galleries than I could shake a stick at.

Caught the Charles streetcar back - they're charming, and really haven't changed much, though the streetcar named desire sadly closed just after the play opened. It's not the most comfortable form of transport, but it's cheap (3 or 5 day passes are great value), frequent (there's an app!) and a great way to see the city. 

Walked down Jefferson Avenue to Magazine Street in search of recommended po-boys at Guy's, and shops including Whole Foods for some groceries (turned out I went the wrong way for WF!)  Shops are often chichi and quite small but an interesting mix - Magazine St is very long and I think I was expecting some big names, but it's more of an eclectic mix of independents. Found Guy's for the hot chicken po-boy (very nice, but way too big, so though I took half to go I still had to chuck it as pretty nasty served cold) 

Found a grocery store for some essentials eventually, then headed home very sore of foot and in haste tripped and fell over carrying 2 bags right outside Macdonald's. People gathered to help me up and I tried not to cry. Forearm bleeding, knees again the main victims.

Cleaned myself up, kipped a while and went back into the city to meet Kim and colleagues, supped at Bateau (nice Blue Moon beer, pretty ordinary jambalaya with horrid tasteless bread) , quick nightcap served in a PLASTIC cup (tsk - this city lives on disposables) before heading back on the streetcar.

Wednesday 22 May

Streetcar into city, got off a little early and explored a bit around arts district, but not much to see - crossed Canal St, went for coffee at funky coffee shop EnVie on Decatur Street, and then wandered again into French Quarter via Sephora, did bit of window shopping. Met Kim at 12.30, went to Ole Saints for lunch, then we came back to the apartment to settle her in. Later we headed off to Magazine Street - streetcar let us down so walked the 2 miles, with most shops on the point of 6pm closing, so had delicious happy hour margaritas and nachos at Juan's Flying Burritos 

before slightly drunken shopping at Whole Foods - $90 later got an uber home and drank a bottle of wine and ate slightly disappointing WF chicken and salad. Earlyish night and another early wake-up.

Thursday 23 May

Voodoo tour which began and mainly took place in Louis Armstrong park, and was more of a lecture on the religion by Robi, a very flamboyant and entertaining high priest - demo of rituals with very bewildered young Vietnamese tourists! Kim and I were designated high priestesses of the group with me as Matriarch. The tour dispelled lots of myths about voodoo, perpetuated by the Catholic church and Hollywood, but failed abysmally as a walking tour as we can only have walked about a mile!

On to the Pharmacy museum on Royale - lots of dusty exhibits brought gloriously to life in all their goryness by a very camp and brilliantly witty curator - had us in stitches but we learned lots - heroin comes from feeling heroic, lead used for baby bottles because sweet, language of colour for bottles and labels for literacy reasons, how soda fountains came about and much more, including how any woman's ailment was based on hysteria caused by her reproductive systems.

Muffilette for lunch - hmm, can't quite understand the fuss about all these sandwiches. But beer is nice. Wandered around, saw the Mississippi river (very wide, very muddy!), went back to Louis Armstrong park, then great Paloma cocktails at Bar Tonique. Ate near the apartment at Best Western Superior Grill, where the great food surprised us, along with the margaritas that despite being served in styrofoam (which kept it iced!!) were really good and really cheap. Both of us quite drunk, but woke with clear head to news of May's resignation.

Friday 24 May

Headed down to Riverwalk for a little retail therapy - bought some new walking sandals and Kim got a new rucksack, but tbh prices not that much cheaper - we still spent too much time trying stuff on! 

Walked to Tourist Info on Andrew Jackson Square, picked up some leaflets and then went to get streetcar to City Park but realised was going to take longer than we thought - so we bought beignets instead, ate lunch looking out to paddle steamer which we booked for Sunday afternoon. 

We went in search of the Voodoo museum and found it was rammed so looked at amazing Frank Relle photography gallery and beautiful and cultured Louisiana historical collection on Royal instead - feasts for the eyes.

Headed back to be picked up by Kim's old friend Frank and his wife Audrey and they took us sailing on Lake Ponchetrain for a couple of hours - beautifully quiet, saw sun go down and felt very privileged, especially as they then took us for lovely upscale dinner at Cavan on Magazine Street and insisted on footing the bill. Good to walk home as felt stuffed and sleepy.

Saturday 25 May

Across town on the streetcar to the City Park. Beautiful sculpture garden with works by Kapoor, Moore, Hepworth...I think all sculptures should be displayed in gardens. 

Lovely botanical gardens too, with fountains and the cutest  miniature railroad. 

Nice if somewhat tardily-served lunch (beetroot and goat's cheese sliders) and then we wandered around NOMA - some nice works but not really organised that sympathetically, and visit somewhat spoiled by over-officious staff and then disruption caused by setting up for a wedding which was obviously more important than visitors!

Back on the streetcar into town for a swift gelato and a stroll down Royal and a quick supper at Muriel's Bistro (fried green tomatoes- ooh so good) then we got tickets for a show at the Petit Theatre - The Pianist of Willesden Green, a wonderful true story about a young woman escaping Nazi Austria for the UK via the Kindertransport, told in the first person by her daughter, also a concert pianist, so we were also treated to some fabulous music. Very emotional tale, standing ovation - movie coming out soon apparently.

Back out into the teeming streets in search of jazz - bit tricky by this stage of the night. Spotted Cat and Snug Harbor were both full, managed to get into Maison but the band were on their last number and the next act were a bit more funk than jazz. We managed to get into Snug Harbour for a drink and booked to go on Sunday night. Staggered back to Canal Street (Kimmy had had a little too much bourbon!) and then chatted with an army guy on the streetcar all the way home, which provided a Republican perspective on life, Trump and the universe! (though probably not too far to the right...)

Sunday 26 May

Wander round the mahoosive houses of the Garden District, built on the plantations and many owned at some point by celebs including Sandra Bullock, who lives in her Victorian pile for maybe a couple of weeks a year and then leaves it shut up the rest of the time. 

Nice brunch (discovered I really don't like grits or biscuit and should ask for eggs over easy if I don't want gloopy sunny side up) in the cafe of the Pontchetrain Hotel before straphanging on the street car to Canal St and heading to the 2-hour paddlesteamer tour which was very pleasant, including a quiet little jazz band. A little bit of shopping, then home via nearby Fresh Market which I am still kicking myself for not discovering on my first day as if I had I might not have fallen over and still be suffering from a wonky knee and a stingy graze on my arm!

Freshen up and then back into town to go to Snug Harbor for dinner and jazz - latter was better than the former and poor wine choice on my part - but nice evening all the same. Uber back in flashy red car with a driver who said nothing and drove fast! I think I was much drunker than I realised due to powerful Windjammer punch....

Monday 27 May

Audubon Park via a little light retail therapy on Magazine St

Ate lunch in the park and then went to the zoo, attracted by the prospect of the reconstructed swamp with the gators. It's divided nicely regionally/by continent rather than by animal - shame that the tiger was so shy. Loved the noisy flamingoes. Great fish & chips at quirky Delachaise bar near our apartment with a nice bottle of Albarino to finish the day - good step count achieved!

Tuesday 28 |May

Plantation tours via coach with jolly and ever-so-slightly annoying but informative guide - dropped off at Whitney and Laura - both of which were fascinating with really knowledgeable guides who were passionate about revealing the truth of the history of enslaved people in Louisianna. I feel I understand more about slavery and the sugar trade, but feel no less angry about it - abolition turns out to be just a pause on the timeline. 

Kim treated me to an elegant dinner at Muriel's Bistro (which is apparently haunted) to celebrate my retirement, followed by cocktails and jazz at Royal Sonesta hotel - old timers still cutting it, amazing.

Wednesday 29 May

Return to NOLA Historical collection to see the lovely French Quarter and Louisianna galleries, a few bits of shopping to catch up on, and a civilised lunch at shady Cafe Amelia courtyard. 

Frozen margaritas to go from Superior Grill as we packed, then taxi to the airport where everything closed early even if you could afford to buy something (no duty free - WHAT??). Flight delayed but caught up pretty well and back to a dull and chilly Gatwick at lunchtime. 

Great trip with lots of memories. NOLA is a real city of contrasts, very full on - I think a week is enough, though there's plenty to see and it has a unique if slightly sleazy buzz - it really is a city fuelled by alcohol, not always in a good way, but very lucky to have had the chance to see it.

Fake blonde's tour highlights

A lot of people have asked me "what was the best place you visited?", or "where would you want to go back?" I thing that having set myself the challenge of having a taster of so many places, it's not necessarily that everywhere rolls into one, more a case of there are some moments that stick out in my mind where I felt especially happy or moved by what I was experiencing - and some are the kind of things that I may never be able to relive, even if I revisit.

So to assist my own memory and set my thoughts down for the record as much as anything else (so it does go on a bit), here's a list of the best moments.

In Canada - seeing the Grahams again, walking near the lakeside on Prince Edward Island with Toni, and the sculptures in Montreal.

In Boston - having a lovely dinner on the first night across the bay from all the lights of the city, rediscovering the Holocaust memorial, walking the Freedom trail, and visiting the fine art museum; walking on the beach at Hyannis and going to the top of the monument in Provincetown

Losing the fear - 5 September was the day I left for Europe, and as I rushed around my flat getting everything ready and trying to leave it in a good state for flatsitter Geraint, I had a growing sense of trepidation which began to turn into a panic attack. Could I do this mammoth trip, most of it by myself? I was quite tearful and as Eric accompanied me to the station in Clio, I had to breathe deep to calm myself down. Eric came with me on to the platform at Beckenham Junction, gave me a hug and said "I'm going to leave you now, because you're going to be fine". And the train pulled in and I heaved Nellie on to it, and as it pulled away and I braced myself as you do when you're standing, suddenly a great weight lifted and a happy calm descended. Suddenly I knew I was going to be ok. Thanks Eric.

Dinner with H and Tony in the old post warehouse on my first night in Ghent, the picturesque buildings all crammed together in various shapes and sizes, and the golden dragon on top of the belfry. Talking to Joel the lovely barman on my second night there.

The Van Gogh museum, the flower stalls in Amsterdam, and Rembrandt's house where I loved his drawings (though the city itself didn't inspire me that much - too many close encounters with bicycles!)

Spending time with dear friends David, Steve and Rick in Berlin, including of course Cafe Eckstein, and the Red & Gold Bar; Gleich 17 at Grunewald made a particular impression on me.

The unexpected and occasionally bonkers architectural details on buildings in old Prague (but pretty dreadful food)

Feeling so tiny compared to the grandeur of the statues and palaces of Vienna, and the Danube at sunset - my stay there felt too short, and I'd like to go back


Many highlights during my 2 weeks with the lovely Neil, but including seeing Buda by night across the Danube on a beautiful balmy first evening, our Budapest walking tour, and discovering the ruin bars; our lovely apartment in Blaha Vintage; stepping out into the sunshine by the sea in Montenegro after our journey from hell on the train of death (but boy didn't that bottle of red taste good when we got to our quirky apartment?!); the magnificent views from old Bar and also the coach journey to Dubrovnik; walking into Dubrovnik old town with Guy with the beautiful lights following the amazing sunset, and finding that sweet little wine bar in the side street; being given shelter and a beer in a stockroom/kitchen when we got drenched walking the wall; sitting on the ferry watching the lights of Dubrovnik as we sailed away to Italy; the Castellano Grotto caves near Alberobello (and the very bad singing of the busker as we queued); the train from Salerno going on to the ferry bound for Sicily; arriving in Taormina and being given unexpected delicious snacks when we staggered down the street and found a bar for a nightcap after 10pm, having been travelling since 7am; and although the weather in Sicily was dreadful, the breathtaking views such as from Castelmola, the wine tasting near Mount Etna, and not least - having such lovely, easy company for 2 weeks!

The views from the apartment in Positano, the fresh figs for breakfast, the first day lunch at the beach restaurant, the views in Ravello and enjoying the vintage Cinqecentos "in giro" in the company of my old and very dear friends Marie and Chris.

The Pantheon in Rome, and the organic pirandello ice cream I had before I went in; meeting Ana the charming Polish girl and Gianni, a friend of my Air BnB host; the hidden gem of the Palazzo Doria with the magnificent Velasquez portrait, together with seeing Caravaggios for the first time (if indeed that is the plural of Caravaggio)

My lovely Air BnB host Elsa in Milan, with her suggested highlights of the unfinished Michelangelo sculpture and the church of Santa Maurizio with its amazing frescoes.

The lifts and funicular railway in Genoa that transported me to amazing views, together with the two wonderful exhibitions I saw there at the Palazza Ducale, and the bonkers movie tribute museum.

The pont in Avignon against a backdrop of a clear blue sky on a crisp sunny day and the rooftops of Arles, together with the David Hockney exhibition at the Van Gogh foundation

Spending time with Nick and Chrissy Clark in Dernacueilette, especially dinner on Saturday night with Jane and Hanxall, and our trip to the seaside at Courillon, even if the car did break down.

Reacquainting myself in Barcelona with Senor Gaudi, (especially the interior of the Sagrada Familia), Parc Cuitadella, the views from the cable car, and meeting two great NZ women, Karen and Rebecca, on our walking tour

The beauty of the rugged landscape seen from the window of the train en route from Barcelona to Madrid (and from Madrid to Bilbao too)

The joyous mariachi band in La Lantina quarter in Madrid, the buzz of the market and the Plaza del Angel, the fantastically cheap quality wine served with delicious olives, and seeing the powerful and affecting Guernica

The architecture of Bilbao, the Guggenheim (especially Puppy, and especially at night) and the yummy pincxos and wine in every bar

The lights of Paris; the Christmas-glittered sparkly dome of Galleries Lafayette, a sunny Saturday morning in Montmartre, good company and the treasures of the Musee d'Orsay

And finally, Iceland - the dance of the northern lights, the frosted sculpture garden at night, sitting in a theatre watching a show in a foreign language, the sun coming up over the rift valley, the warm bath of the blue lagoon, the sun going down over the geysers, and the sheer majestic and awesome power of the Gulfloss waterfalls.


What a journey I've had. Would I do it again? Well probably a less punishing schedule, and not for two months, but railway journeys yes and accommodation at under £40 a night yes!

What a beautiful place the world is, despite the crap that fills our news feeds every waking hour. And all I can think of is how lucky am I to have seen so much of it...