happy new year

Sydney have already celebrated, and it's on it's way to us - New Year 2013! And as luck would have it - after being off sick only once this year - I've got a stinking cold! No Vancouver trip for me, which I'm rather annoyed about as I was planning to buy some more 'Holiday Blend' coffee over there from a stall in Granville Market, I doubt they'll be selling it next time I get to go. Plus I have loads of surplus Canadian dollars in my handbag and now I'll just have to wait until next time! But hey, flying with a cold is never worth the potential health problems, we've all heard the stories of burst eardrums. Anyway, last thing I want to do right now is go to a raucous party, so for the first time, tonight I'm planning on having a chilled one with a few close friends - dinner and films.

Nevertheless, being ill has inspired me to write another 'How to...' page: 'How to be your own travel doctor'. Dealing with a hectic schedule, long working hours, minimum time off, different timezones and non regular eating times, your body can feel out of balance. My mother always advocated the importance of a good night's sleep and regular mealtimes to keep your body in harmony, but when that's just not possible you might have to cheat (a little!). From my own experiences on the job, as well as observing other crew and frequent flyers, I've learned a trick or two about keeping your immunity strong. Over time I've created my own mini medicine chest I carry with me everywhere to prevent, and ultimately combat the most common ailments that travelling can cause. Of course this can be applied to anyone with a non-routine working life. I'll post in the next few days.

In the meantime, enjoy yourselves tonight, stay safe and have a very happy new year!

there's always money for shoes

Call me frivolous in a time of recession, but I feel that if we can't have our little indulgences now and again, we might as well be living in a grim mining town in the sixties slogging away for peanuts. And if one were to not take advantage of the Boxing Day sales...one would be a darn fool!

So, with the money gratefully received from my ever generous grandmother (and from the comfort of my own room as I can't be dealing with hordes of shoppers) today I embarked on scouting out some bargains. I am a firm believer in quality, not quantity, and now I'm in my twenties and beginning to get a sense of style (although tell that to my disgusted 30 year old self!) I'm starting to build a small wardrobe of good quality, subtle-hued, classic items. I end up wearing the same favourite pieces all the time anyway, so why not wear investment pieces?

My big splash out today was on a pair of L.K. Bennett 'Lauren' patent leather courts in Winter Rose (my namesake, how could I resist?). Far from an impulse buyer, I always think of how a new addition to my wardrobe will be worn with things I already own. These have such a neutral tone and classic style, I can wear them with everything!

I am excitedly awaiting the arrival of these beauties! In the meantime, tomorrow to Paris...

choral harmonies at Christmas

I arrived back from Chicago early this morning. We positioned home (that is, we travelled home in style lounging in business class) and so I rocked up home at 8am, refreshed and relaxed, ready for the day.

As per tradition, as I had missed Midnight Mass we attended the Christmas Day service. It was so uplifting to sing carols all together in that little village church, the synergy of harmonies forming an almost ethereal, heavenly sound. Truly the spirit of Christmas is evoked through song.  My favourite carol is O Holy Night, and although we didn't sing this one I found a beautiful arrangement sung by the Kings College Cambridge choir. Hope you enjoy it, have a very merry Christmas.

last minute shopping in Chicago

Last stop before home for Christmas: Chicago!  Quite possibly the most beautifully decorated city at Christmas.

A festive hotel entrance

On arrival we had a little festive drink in the Signature Lounge on the top floor (100th storey) of the Hancock Tower, to a magnificent view of downtown Chicago.  It stands at 1,127ft and is the 6th tallest building in the United States, well worth a visit if you get to go!

View from the Signature Lounge

The others were off to a club, but I didn't stay out too late.  The next day I had plans to be up bright and early to indulge in a little last minute Christmas shopping, and pick up a present for Mum.  She's a notoriously hard one to buy for - the woman has everything!  Nevertheless I knew she'd like a carry-on travel case to take with her on her European weekend trips.  So I set off to, frankly, the loveliest department store in Chicago - where else but Bloomingdale's! They have excellent sales on this time of year (often half price), and if you are a foreigner to the city you can pick up a 10-15% discount (go to Customer Services and bring your ID), which essentially eliminates the sneaky tax America puts on all their price tags, plus a bit more.

In the end I decided on a chic little wheelie from Italian luggage company Bric's. The espresso leather trimming gives it an 'expensive' sheen (although with 55% discount as well as the exchange rate it was still £100).  I love the understated elegance of Bric's luggage, none of this vulgar monogramming that fashion houses seem to have a penchant for nowadays. Just solid, good quality tailoring, something that will last her a lifetime.

So, after my purchase, a gingerbread latte from Starbucks and a leisurely walk down the Magnificent Mile back to my hotel, I spent the rest of Christmas Eve in a bubble bath, tucking into room service and watching Love Actually - bliss!  Then it was back on the plane, homeward bound, with St. Nicholas closely following behind us to London on our tail wind...

salmon and pinot - a Canadian experience

I am fortunate enough to have a very cosmopolitan boyfriend who although American born identifies himself as French, yet has a British mother and Canadian father.  His funny accent matches his peculiar hodgepodge of nationalities and hence whenever he's asked that familiar phrase, 'Hey, where are you from, you sound weird' he sighs, having to go through the rigmarole of explaining his identity YET AGAIN.

However, the upside to all this is that he has family in various corners of the globe, with most of his father's side of the family residing in British Columbia, Canada.  Which was very good news for me on my recent trip to Vancouver as it is the place his uncle Trace calls home, and luckily he generously offered to show me a 'Canadian experience'.  I've already written on how wonderful it is to hang out with a native when visiting a new city, and I've definitely made the most of my contacts, in Paris, LA, Boston and now Vancouver.

Unfortunately the crew sometimes have a rather predictable habit of frequenting the same haunts regardless of city, so in my email to Trace before the trip I asked that the experience didn't have to be typically 'Canadian', so long as it didn't involve a local Irish pub (how original), The Rock Bottom Brewery, Cheesecake Factory or Panda Express.  I am sick of these places.  We cabin crew are privileged to explore cities around the world, with the relative freedom to do as we please; we can eat at any restaurant, visit any museum, take any tours.  So I am genuinely shocked and disappointed when the crew opt for yet another dinner down at the Cheesecake Factory in Boston, when there's the famous Legal Sea Foods around the corner (which, by the by, has converted me to clam chowder).  I am equally stunned when my fellow crewmembers have no plans downroute save for a quick stop at the local mall to pick up sparkly hand sanitser at Bath and Body Works (when we're in Chicago, Christ, at least save such boring plans for Denver!!).  I have often gone to museums and art galleries alone.  It's not such a 'woe-is-me' story as I actually rather like doing cultural things alone.

Anyway, that aside, at least when I know I'm meeting with someone in the city we are going to do something fun and 'local'.  On this particular occasion Trace suggested a bite to eat at a place called 'The Sandbar' on Granville Island, as I really wanted to try some freshly caught British Columbian salmon.  We were seated in the rustically decorated outdoor area (felt like the verandah of a hunting lodge), where the temperature was rather balmy thanks to patio heaters and heated flooring, and each table had blankets to keep yourself cosy.  From here we had a lovely view under the Granville Bridge to the water below.

Credit to akabilk (http://www.flickriver.com/photos/akabilk)

The menu was extensive and had lots of options including sushi, but I really was fixated on the idea of salmon for dinner so I selected their spring salmon with rice and seasonal vegetables.  Trace is a bit of a wine buff so he suggested a Gehringer Brothers Pinot Noir (from a vineyard in Okanagan, so this really was turning out to be a Canadian experience indeed!).  Fun fact - apparently the Gehringer Brothers originally traded in chainsaws, and you can taste the sharpness in every gulp.  No, I'm joking, the wine wasn't sharp at all, it was light enough not to mask the flavours of the salmon, but had enough body to hold its own.  Well that's what I would say if I actually knew anything about wine, but I'm learning!  Later we moved on to the buzzing downstairs bar where someone was playing Billy Joel on the piano and enjoyed a Cabernet Sauvingnon, and I really did taste leather and pepper...I think.  Although I often wonder, am I really tasting and smelling these aromas of odd things like gravel or welly boots in wine, or is my brain so influenced by the power of suggestion that I merely imagine the tastes in my head?  I really do have to get into wine tasting and sort out this conundrum.

All in all, a lovely sophisticated Canadian experience.

in Japan, everything has a face

Tokyo.  How can one even begin to describe the sheer wackiness yet utter serenity of Japanese culture.  It truly is a culture of extremes.  On the one hand it has a rich history of folklore and legend and is home to an immensely polite and gracious society that adheres to tradition and honour.  On the other hand, the Japanese have a penchant for ridiculous fashion, tinny synth pop music, and it's probably the only place in the world you can *allegedly* come across a vending machine that sells used dirty knickers.

Trying a traditional Japanese noodle dish.

Of course, I am largely ethnocentric in my observations and cannot even begin to fully understand how the Japanese really tick, so my interpretations of a vastly complex culture are hampered by my no doubt crude Western worldview which associates Japan with geisha, Pokemon and Nikon cameras, and for this I apologise in advance.  I will try to evoke the feelings that came about as I explored this most interesting city.  I found myself wandering around Tokyo, digital camera in hand (which in fact was a Nikon - they do the best cameras!), snapping photographs in an almost crazed fashion of anything and everything - because it all fascinated me, from the morning weather report to the exterior of metro trains.  I finally understood why Japanese tourists are often tittered at by Londoners as they snap away at cracks in the pavement - because the most mundane, trivial aspect of everyday life is enthralling to someone whose culture is just so far removed from your own.

Sad rainbow!  The morning weather report in Japan.

Now, there is so much to tell, but I thought I might make things concise with a few startling things I discovered.

1. Everything in Japan has a face.

Clouds have faces.

I mean, can you imagine this sort of thing on BBC News?

Buses have faces.

All aboard the happy bus!  On second thoughts, I think it might be a special bus for the disabled, so we shouldn't really laugh.  Cute though.

Warning signs have faces.

In Britain, we are content to have our signs illustrated (if at all) with a stick man running into a black rectangle representing a fire exit.  In Japan, even mundane things like warning of injuries and death are cartoonified.  No idea what the blue blobs are...

Vending machines have faces.

OK, perhaps I'm clutching at straws here, this is clearly a plasticised Japanised facsimile of the Bocca della Verita in Rome.  BUT IT STILL COUNTS.


2. While we're on the subject of vending machines, here's a fun fact:  Japan has the highest number of vending machines per capita.

They were literally everywhere, and it was a bit of a gamble with what came out in the end...no English apart from 'Black Boss' (dubious, but I believe it is a kind of canned coffee) and 'Fire' with what looked like a hazard symbol you come across in chemistry labs. Willing to take a gamble on my life, I decided on 'Fire'.  I ended up with something that tasted faintly of old socks.

Still, you could also get some pretty cool things, like a Smart car:

Must admit I was tempted, but then again I was dying for a soda and I sadly didn't have enough change for both.  And I'm not even joking - with the yen being so expensive, it's not at all that ridiculous to suggest that a soda is the same price as a small car.  I finally knew how it felt to be a foreigner in expensive Britain.

I never came across any used knickers vending machines, so perhaps they're just an urban myth.  Or  maybe I just never had the courage to venture into any seedy red light districts.


3. In Japan, all dogs wear sunglasses.  Cos they are so damn cool.

Spotted in Yoyogi Park.  What a little celeb.

4. In Japan, these sorts of things are completely normal and no cause for alarm whatsoever:

For those of you who can't see very clearly, this is a naked Japanese man having a casual workout sesh in full view of a train platform of commuters.  And no fucks were given that day.

So, there's an tsunami coming, you say?  Well, I'm just to just stand right here on the shore anyway and take my chances.

5.   In Japan, boy and girl bands tend to be a fleet of identical robots.

First off, give it up for SexyZone!  Don't you just want to be ravished by these young red blooded males?

Only five members, a modest number really.  But wait until you see...Hey!Say!Jump!

Nine of them.  A bit excessive, and their band name sounds a little like an aerobics class on acid.

Christ.  Now I've seen enough - this isn't a boy band, it's the Japanese Mafia!  They literally look like they would cut you.  Especially the guy in the shades.  Watch out for him.

Of course, if you're more of a girl band lover, you could always make this funky troupe your new band of choice...give it up for 7 Days Bargain!

Because who wouldn't want to be a member of a band with the word 'bargain' in it?  The consumers know at once they're getting value.


6.  Finally, in Japan I seem to be a bit of a tourist attraction myself.  Whilst visiting a temple in the centre of Tokyo (yes, I did see some cultural things despite this post mainly consisting of funny things) I was stopped by countless Japanese asking to take photos of me.  Because to them, I was this great big blonde giantess with a big nose and clearly some sort of alien being.

So, that about wraps up my crazy visit to Japan.  I cannot wait for next time!

how to be jet-set glamorous

Image courtesy: © Thinkstock photos/ Getty Images

It is truly a shame that most people now see travel as a rather irritating, stressful interval between home and holiday, something to be endured rather than relished.  I suppose air travel has lost its sheen, now that the average traveller is horded through the terminal, forced to disrobe at security and faced with delays and other setbacks which can push the most patient person to the edge.  But I will say one thing - o typical traveller - sometimes you do not help yourself!

So many times I will be strolling through the terminal and spot people in dirty trainers traipsing around with a scruffy backpack that looks like it's been dragged through the Australian bush.  Or passengers arriving at the plane door in holed tracksuit bottoms and Uggs, or even pyjamas and slippers!  Entire families running haphazardly through the terminal like a stampede of wild elephants rushing to their departure gate.  Or women trying to juggle five different bags and dropping belongings everywhere, arriving at the plane flustered and searching for their boarding pass in a million pockets.

And then I see her.  The seasoned jet-setter, the epitome of travelling glamour.  She glides serenely down the airbridge to the aircraft door, expertly whipping out her boarding pass from a convenient pocket.  She greets us with a smile and quickly slides her carry-on case into the overhead locker, before settling herself in her seat and opening a book.  She is dressed smartly, yet never compromises her style for comfort.  Whether she is seated in 1A or right down the back, this is the woman that is doing travelling right - and these are the people that arrive at their destination the most relaxed.

It is not difficult to achieve.  From my own travelling experiences (I live out of a suitcase, work long-haul and short-haul flights and still have to be groomed and immaculate at all times - otherwise I get a stern word from my manager - along with being organised and punctual) and from what I have observed with the glamorous jet-setters that fly with us, I have compiled a list of 'travel commandments' to help you travel in style.

The Nine Travel Commandments of Jet-Set Glamour

1. Thou shalt stay comfortable, but never compromise style

Some might say style is irrelevant, especially on board a flight where the primary concern is comfort - as if being squashed into a tiny seat like a little sardine wasn't uncomfortable enough.  But often I find that if you look put together, you feel put together.  When I am at home and I need to get a little work done, I find it incredibly hard to focus my mind while I'm in a pair of tracky bottoms or a dressing gown - and navigating airports requires an alert mind!  If you arrive at the airport looking smart, you will feel 'ready' for the day ahead.  Plus, on occasion airlines overbook economy seats, and there are opportunities for upgrade.  Trust me, they won't be picking anyone in crocs or flip flops for business class!  Nevertheless, style and comfort are NOT mutually exclusive.  See my article on style in the skies here.

2. Thou shalt travel light

The ultimate lesson in chic is a minimalist approach to everything, quality over quantity.  The most glamorous passengers I've had on board often just have a carry-on wheelie with them, so they can bypass the agonising wait at the baggage carousel and sail through the airport.  Of course this isn't applicable to long stays, but for a weekend trip, it is all that's needed.  See my article on packing the perfect case here.

3. Thou shalt invest in good luggage

If you must take a large suitcase for a long trip, make it a good one.  I'm not talking an overpriced Louis Vuitton here - vile and tacky if you ask me.  If you are a frequent flier, you will be lugging your baggage around a LOT (unless you happen to be lucky enough to have a PA to do it for you!), so it's important for it to be sturdy, difficult to break into and easy to carry/manoeuvre.  Weigh the pros and cons - hard cases are fairly indestructible, but don't have any pockets for extra storage on the outside.  Some come with built in TSA combination locks which are a good idea, but perhaps you would prefer a padlock. Two wheels or four?  Research on the internet which kind of cases are out there and enter a store armed with knowledge, so you can buy a suitcase tailored to your needs, as it will be your travelling companion for a while.  Well established luggage brands are Delsey, Samsonite, Victorinox and TravelPro, but if you'd like a little glamour, go for Tumi, Bric's or Hartmann.  If you want to push the boat out and make a real investment, go for Goyard.  Don't be fooled by designer labels, go for the brands who specialise in luggage - a Tumi case will most likely last longer than a Chanel one.  While we're on the subject of luggage - invest in a stylish personalised tag.  Cases can look very similar, and you'll want to know at a glance which one is yours on that baggage carousel.  Plus, you will be easy to contact if it is mislaid.  Aspinal of London have a sophisticated selection of leather tags here.

4. Thou shalt be organised

Do everything you possibly can before the day of your flight.  Some airlines allow you to check in online 24 hours before departure which allows you to bypass queues at the airport and select your seat in advance.  Aim to arrive at the airport in good time, allowing for delays and traffic (as a passenger I aim for 2-3 hours before departure - 2 hours too early is always preferable to one minute late!)  Make sure everything has been packed, and essential items (passport, printed boarding passes, reference numbers, documents, medicines, make-up etc) is to hand in your carry-on bag.  There is nothing worse than panicking about essential medicines left in hold luggage, and trust me I've had to get out the asthma inhaler more than once.  Ensure liquids are in a small zip up bag (you can get these from Boots) and under 100ml.  Prepare a few light snacks like carrot/celery sticks, cheese, biscuits to eat on the plane.  Decide on your travel outfit (down to underwear!) and lay out on a chair or hang up on the door.  Order the taxi the night before.
 
Everything should be done the night before, so all you have to worry about in the morning is getting yourself ready and going.  See my article on organised packing here.

5. Thou shalt stay hydrated

This is an important one.  The aeroplane air circulation system dries out the air to such an extent that your skin will be feeling somewhat like a crocodile handbag by the end of the flight.  Avoid alcohol and caffeine (restrict yourself to one glass of wine and savour it with the meal, and if you must drink coffee, have a cup shortly before landing).  Drinking lots of water is key, if you have time buy a large bottle in the terminal shops - after security - as if the crew aren't doing many drinks rounds throughout the flight you will be suffering!  Dehydration makes you tired and grumpy, not to mention causing headaches and nausea.  When you step off that flight you want to be glamorous and glowing, not paunchy and depressed.

6. That shalt beat jet-lag

The jet-set always look polished, even when stepping off a long-haul flight.  OK, so they've probably had a nice flat bed to snooze in, but even if you find it difficult to sleep in an upright position you may find tips in this article here useful.  I can definitely vouch for lavender as a sleep aid - plus it smells lovely!

7. Thou shalt exercise

OK, so airlines aren't offering treadmills on board quite yet, but it is important to get out of your seat and stretch your legs every few hours on a long-haul flight, so you arrive at your destination comfortable, serene, relaxed and oh-so glam - it's hard to be travelling in style if you're aching and in pain.  See my article about keeping moving on board here.

8. Thou shalt read

Books are truly the chicest form of entertainment.  Glamorous women are often intelligent, interesting and well read.  Taking a book onboard is good practice, as you never know when the inflight entertainment system might fail.  I often hear people say they 'don't read enough' as they simply 'don't have time' - what better time to get around to reading a book than on a long plane journey?

9. Thou shalt be gracious

Last of all, the key to a stress-free journey in style is simple: be gracious and civil to your cabin crew, and they will do their best to help you.  Putting on airs and graces is not only foolish and vulgar, but we can see right through it - I have had my fair share of DYKWIAs and none of them were anyone of note.  If you want special treatment (without paying), a smile, a joke and a little charm - and knowing when to realise defeat - can go a long way.  FYI - in my experience, the most gracious people are usually the jet-set travelling in First Class.

So there you have it.  I hope these tips help you on your next adventure!

the pretty streets of prague

Now for a little descriptive piece...written as I meandered around Prague on a cold winter's day...

Cafe Gourmand, Rytířská, Prague

4pm

The cool wind of approaching winter whips around me as I sit, huddling, a solitary figure on a small cafe terrace on Rytířská.  I clutch my tiny, overpriced cappuccino for warmth, but its last embers slowly ebb away as I drain the cup.  It's my own fault, my decision to sit outside on this fresh November afternoon.  

But I love the atmosphere of a European city, especially on its cobbled streets; to people watch; to admire the majestic buildings, a hodgepodge of eras - Baroque style theatre to my left, Art Deco style bank to my right.  Locals hurrying along with their Christmas shopping, tourists ambling about holding maps at jaunty angles, trying to make sense of the Czech street names.

The chill of late afternoon is settling in now, the sun of the crisp day quietly fading behind the parapets, the cobblestones now barely dappled with light.  

Quickly I devour my warm, goulash soup before it too succumbs to winter's bite.  Walking back to the hotel is a tour through a winter wonderland.  Despite the multitude of shoppers and tourists, the streets are surprisingly hushed.  Small market stalls decked with holly wreaths sell their kitschy wares - gingerbread, woolly hats, wooden dolls - huddled cosily below a large building transformed into a giant advent calendar, with huge glistening numbers in its windows.

I cross the crystal clear waters of the Danube, admiring its gentle beauty, yet imagining the freezing sensation if I were to fall in...only this summer had I taken a dip in its waters, but the thought of it now brings a shudder to my shoulders.  

As I meander, I idly wonder what gives the streets of Prague that particularly European flavour, so different to any street in England.  It isn't the cobbles, nor the old-fashioned streetlamps.  Nor the trams snaking through like giant caterpillars, nor its mismatching architecture.  And suddenly I put my finger on it - the cars are parked at an angle to the road, rather than parallel.  You'd find the same in Lyon, or Milan, or Budapest. That's exactly it!

wilkommen in Hamburg

So, for a little pre-birthday treat I decided to take my mum with me on my stopover in Hamburg.  Of course, she was seated in Club both ways the glamour puss she is!  On arrival the weather was rather grim, and unfortunately Germany don't go all out for Christmas til late November so no Christmas Market :( (probably because they still retain a sense of spirituality and reverence for the holiday, as opposed to the commercialised, advent-calendars-in-September thing we have going on in the UK - I blame the Americans!).

Nevertheless the walk into town around the Aussenalster lake was a beautiful, technicolour Autumn scene...

...and the beauty of German architecture made up for the grey clouds.  Of course as all ladies must do, we shopped, and we lunched!  She bought me a gorgeous navy duck-down coat...and liked it so much she had to have one too...

Lunch was at this darling little bistro, where we drank gluhwein with amaretto (amazingly delicious)

and had a sort of plastic version of Paul O'Grady as a waiter, perhaps his German twin.  He understood no English, but luckily 'doppelganger' is one of our borrowed words, so after Googling Paul O'Grady on his smartphone and guffawing a loud German guffaw he agreed to a photo with us.  The result was truly terrifying.

On reflection, zipping through the photos on the way home I realise it looks like we're at the coffee shop at Madame Tussauds.  But he was a lovely gentleman and made us promise we'd return!

The rest of the day was spent giggling at German words that sound naughty, like 'Kunterbunt' (coloured), 'Ausfahrt' (exit) and 'Striggings' which technically isn't a German word but seems to be what they call legwarmers.

'Let me get me striggin's on Pat!'

Plus their fashion offerings were somewhat dubious:

Thigh high welly boots. Germans definitely know the meaning of CHIC and SEXY.

So a day that was supposed to be a day of European culture descended into puerile humour but hey, we had FUN.  We did walk around the gorgeously lit harbour as night drew in, and appreciated the architecutre before returning to our hotel room for a evening of room service and girly films!

all aboard for Mordor!

It has recently come to my attention that Air New Zealand has a pretty awesome new safety demo featuring hobbits and elves, orcs slumming it in economy and Gandalf in the skipper's seat!  I don't think my airline would ever be quirky enough for this sort of thing, but I think it's brilliant.  For once, perhaps passengers will actually pay attention rather than chatting away to a friend across the cabin...

un petit séjour a Toulouse

Toulouse is becoming one of my favourite little European destinations.  The Franco-Spanish atmosphere, warm climate and cutesy little back streets are just so charming.  We arrived on a Saturday night in August, and the whole town was out to play.  The bars lining the Capitole were a-buzz with the young Français drinking bottles of wine and draught beer (funnily enough the French don't seem to go for cocktails or shots) and singing to songs I'd never heard of.  Myself, the Captain, First Officer and two other crew members ventured out into the balmy summer evening for a drink and were seated on the terrace facing the grand Capitole de Toulouse.

Capitole de Toulouse

We ended up staying out til 2am, dancing a little on the tiny dancefloor, getting propositioned in French and chatting over bottles of Sauvingon Blanc before tipsily trying to navigate the windy streets back to the hotel, dodging the kids zipping around on vespas...it's always so pleasant when you have a fun flight crew!

The next morning, a little worse for wear, we headed into town for breakfast.  Again we chose a cafe on the Capitole and enjoyed a very French breakfast of bacon and eggs, ha.  We did supplement it with croissants, but when hungover the only thing for it is a good old fry up.  The residents of Toulouse seemed to have the same idea.  I love European cafe culture.  Families treated themselves to breakfast and noisy chatter, couples fed each other fresh fruit, lone diners sipped cappuccinos and read the paper.  The atmosphere was lively but relaxed and leisurely.  In this part of the world they respect the reverence of Sunday.  No one had work, everyone took their time to enjoy the freshly squeezed orange juice, basking in the Mediterranean sunshine.  It's exactly how I'd like to live.

Kyle standing by the busy morning cafes on the Capitole

As it was Sunday, the bells of the Cathédrale Saint-Étienne were ringing.  We browsed the huge market below it for a while (I bought buttons!) before exploring inside.  For a 13th Century building, the sheer geometry and artwork of the cathedral were breathtaking.  Labourers had clearly devoted their entire lives to create such an architectural masterpiece, a testament to their reverence of God. 

Of course, soon it was time to stop for a petit dejeuner, and if there's one place you simply MUST go if you visit Toulouse, it's the Flowers Cafe in Place Roger Salengro.  Not just because you sit on a terrace beside a softly trickling fountain...

...but the food, oh the food.  Their menu is small but it changes frequently, and I believe a smaller menu often translates to better quality dishes. I had mille feuille of mozzarella and tomatoes with mini toasts and tapenade, the others had steak sandwich and salmon salad.  They were presented as if they were gourmet dishes from a five star restaurant, and we were given a complimentary basket of fresh baguette.  We each had a dessert from their onsite patisserie (tarte tatin, chocolate mousse, raspberry-dark chocolate torte) and a cappuccino.  It satiated completely, and for such an elegant lunch at a clearly popular restaurant I expected to fork out quite a few of my euros for it.  So I was shocked when the bill came to twelve euros each.  Definitely recommended.

oh la la...a quick stop in Paris

I always love getting a trip to Paris on my roster.  It's so close to home and yet it's somewhere I never go.  Luckily I have a Parisian friend who is always happy to meet up for lunch and show me around, and I tell you, meeting up in a city with a native is the best.  You feel like you're one of the locals, eating where they eat, shopping where they shop (apparently, shopping on the Champs-Élysées is trés passé and is simply where the tourists go). Unfortunately my colleagues often frequent the same 'haunts'; on this particular occasion the captain offered to meet up at the local Irish pub (of all places!) followed by dinner at Flunch (on retelling this to my boyfriend who happens to be French, he visibly recoiled in disgust - apparently 'eating at Flunch is like jetting to the Caribbean and swimming in an indoor pool').  No thank you!

Fortunately for me my Parisian friend, Louison, has much more taste.  Last time we met up we had a coffee at the famous Cafe de Flore - it's claim to fame being the frequent haunt of 20th Century philosophers and writers - and lunch at L'Industrie near St Germain which had fabulous onglets de boeuf, although she had a rather questionable dish called boudin noir which I believe is a sausage shaped mass of congealed pig blood.  Mmm.  I tried a little, but it was the same as when I tried steak tartare in Strasbourg last year - my tongue was OK with it, but my brain couldn't shake the disgusting idea that I was eating cold, raw meat and wouldn't let me enjoy it.  Sorry, I tried, but I think it's degueulasse.

This time we met at a bistro with her friend Julia, who's one of those amazing people who can speak five languages fluently, and of whom I will be eternally jealous.  We shared a bottle of red - bien sur - but Louison had to rush off to see a concert with her dad.  Julia and I had got on like a house on fire so we decided to hang out that afternoon.  She showed me her chic Parisian apartment which, although small, had a  gorgeous view of the city below - so envious.  Her friend Romain popped over and we decided to go out to a bar that evening in Pigalle - the arty yet seedy district of Paris.

On the way I had a little 'Marilyn Monroe' moment outside the Moulin Rouge...as you do.

And my head is aflame!

Julia and Romain

Now, I was expecting the typical studenty bar, the type I used to go to in Leeds.  It certainly looked like one, a small establishment buzzing with young people.  But on closer inspection the chalky words on the blackboards weren't offering 'pound a pint' or 'woo woos', but a rather diverse selection of wines and beers. And not just the grapes, but their regions too.  In a STUDENT bar.  I don't think any of us cared, or even knew about wine regions at uni, as long as the booze got us sufficiently sloshed.  I was impressed.

As we all sat around a tiny table and I was duly introduced to some friends of theirs, Romain ordered a petit plat, which he said was a little snack to have with our drinks.  I was expecting some peanuts, McCoys, or perhaps a dish of the French equivalent of Tyrrell's Handmade Crisps, seeing as this place was a little classier than your average student bar.  No, we were presented with this:

A mini fromagerie and charcuterie, with a little basket of fresh, warm baguette.  I was visibly astounded; it all tasted sensational.  Romain simply shrugged.  'C'est normal', he said indifferently, 'It is to compliment our wine.'  Bloody hell, I thought, the Parisians, even students on a budget, really do know how to live.

Seaworld in San Diego

Now, usually when I visit a foreign city I like to just meander around, people watch etc.  But occasionally you'll have a crew that are organised and have a day out planned.  On this particular trip to San Diego the whispers around the aircraft on the way over was a trip to 'Seaworld', you know, the infamous Seaworld where the whale killed someone a few years ago?  Of course, I was game.

So, after flashing our crew IDs for a discount entry pass (those IDs are like gold dust sometimes!) we entered the park.  I'll take you on a little photo tour...

First, the polar bear enclosure.  There is nothing I wanted more than to be snuggled by this big fluffy bear.  If I'd have gone in there it probably wouldn't have been a 'snuggle' in the end but, tempting nonetheless.

Just chillin'.  What a show off.

Ah yes, the seal show.  Very entertaining and certainly impressive, when you get over the fact that the poor things spend their entire lives, day in, day out, performing for noisy tourists in exchange for little treats tossed by their overly enthusiastic trainers.  Despite their intelligence (well, the ability to respond to operant conditioning and thus perform the way they do) I only hope they don't have the capacity for such abstract thought that they wonder about life outside their enclosure in the wild, and resent their gilded prison.  Really, it's no wonder that whale attacked its trainer a few years ago.  Still, this is all rather deep and existential for a fun day out at a family park, I'm sure the seals and whales are very happy in their cosy little enclosure and think nothing of it.  And the show is very good.

The great SHAMU came next, and again, very impressive stunts.  I did capture a few videos but unfortunately I can't upload them here.  I'm sure there are many on YouTube.

Word of advice: If you are wearing jeans, white clothing or any fabric not water friendly, NEVER sit in the Soak Zone.  Unless you actually want a second shower that day.

I didn't think we'd get this wet...

So, after a good soaking at the whale show, I was grumpily squelching around, walking like Bruce Wayne in an attempt to dry out my jean-clad legs.  It felt utterly horrible so we caught a taxi home.  Next time, I would  of course dress more appropriately.  All in all, I would check out Seaworld if you have a free day in San Diego and fancy some wet hair and squelchy jeans :P, but in all honesty, good family fun.

beat the jet-lag

I recently found this infographic on ebookers which I thought was quite informative for the insomniac travellers among us!