Category Archives: Travel 2012

Battling the elements in the Lakes District

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When: 29/01/2013                                                                                                       Where: The Lakes District, Cumbria                                                                           Stayed: West Vale Country House

IMG_6153Approximately 5 hours north west of London lies the wettest place on earth – the Lakes District. Well, actually that’s not an official title and unlikely to be true but it certainly sums up our experience of the area. It is a mountainous region decorated with beautiful lakes (surprisingly), farmland, woodlands and valleys. As the most visited national park in the UK, it is renown for it’s stunning and dramatic scenery – an accolade we can certainly attest to. The fresh air, space and relaxed nature of the locals feels a world away from the chaos of London. Within a few days I’m fairly certain that even my shoulder blades thought about loosening up – perfect spot to welcome in the new year.

IMG_6202We stayed in Far Sawrey at West Vale Country House which turns out is absolutely nowhere near anything despite carrying an ‘Ambleside’ address. A 10min drive from the nearest small town (Hawskhead) and around 25mins from the main town (Ambleside). It felt a little bit like a rotten trap for new punters to us. Apparently anything within a 10 mile radius is considered Ambleside..?! None of this would be an issue if you were able to drive in a straight line in dry and safe conditions. Not here folks.

IMG_6205Despite being quite isolated, our accommodation was warm, cosy and friendly. With great attention to detail our hosts ran a pretty tight ship. This included patrolling the front door to check your muddy shoes were removed prior to entry; and packing your things away in cupboards when the room was cleaned. The regiment also included being allocated a table to sit at in the breakfast room. After making a bee-line for the table in the window I was quickly yanked back into my place in the pecking in order by our host who had us seated near the door on the smallest table known to man. That’s what happens when you get a discounted room Cathy…

IMG_6209Our drive up to the Lakes District gave us a pretty good indication of the conditions to come over the next few days. Torrential rain and flooding across the road with a good portion of the tires submerged was a little scary. And apparently no one in the Lakes District believes in street lights because the roads had absolutely no lighting to speak of – surely the little headlights everyone wears on their walks don’t help you behind the wheel too…?!

IMG_6167Exhausted and a bit stressed out on arrival we figured the next day would be better weather-wise. It wasn’t. However we soldiered on through the elements and managed to complete a stunning 4 hour walk that took in Lake Windemere (UK’s longest lake), a ferry ride across to Bowness-on-Windemere (quaint lakeside village packed with cafes) and several paddocks of ankle deep water and mud. I thought it was a bit of an adventure but Justin evidently wasn’t taking a shine to his wet feet. True to form I ensured we pushed through the pain barrier and finished our trail. Potentially a relationship ending move – fortunately I managed to get Justin to the Towerbank Arms (local pub) within the recovery window of opportunity. Thank god for beer.

IMG_6226Day 2 delivered even worse weather which didn’t do much for the spirits of my sunshine inclined fiancé. We managed to sneak in a shorter walk around Grasmere lake which was lovely but not overly relaxing given we had one eye on the weather the whole time.

After initially finding the other walkers in all their super sensible hiking kit quite amusing, we ending up eating some serious humble pie. Turns out it’s appropriate to cover yourselves head to toe in this environment and hardcore footwear is your friend on a long wet, muddy walk. In-fact, we were the odd ones out and felt quite conspicuous in our jeans and Justin’s runners. ‘Buh, ignorant tourists from London’ was written all over their faces. ‘Yes we might very well fall into that category but we are not seasoned walkers because we can still ski!!’ I wanted to point out to the 60+ generation who looked down their noses.

IMG_6238Food in the Lakes District is simply outstanding. Incredibly fresh produce worked into little homemade morsels of goodness everywhere you go. Mmmmmm. Even the every-day pubs and restaurants such as the Queens Arms and Log House dished up outstanding meals. The Drunken Duck near Ambleside was our favorite with it’s cheerful atmosphere, cosy interior and beautiful backdrop. Here we gorged ourselves on a 3 course power eating session on New Years eve. Being unable to make a dinner reservation for love or money, we decided to load up late in the afternoon and fast through to breakfast instead. A conundrum occurred when our host pulled some strings and triumphantly told us we were booked in for a 5 course set menu dinner up the road… Good sense and a fear of vomiting prevailed and we cancelled the reservation – but it’s always nice to be reminded that it comes back to who you know in every aspect of life.

IMG_6184After learning a few difficult lessons about walking attire, eating some fantastic food, battling the elements on foot and enduring some incredibly challenging driving conditions we made our way back to London discussing plans for our next ski trip. Home free kids.

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Smelling the money in Courcheval

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When: 20/12/2012                                                                                                        Where: Courcheval, 3 Valleys, France                                                                        Stayed: Mercure, Courcheval 1850

IMG_6029There’s nothing quite like a skiing holiday with good mates. It’s a fail safe recipe for a good time – even if you do battle with poor form on the slopes, your friends are on hand to remind you of the funny side of your inadequacies. Thanks guys. BMac summed up the first ski trip of the season beautifully using a cricket analogy – ‘skiing is a bit like doing nothing for 6 months and then facing Brett Lee on the pitch…’ How right you are BMac. This is not a sport that you can practice year round and come out with all guns blazing at the start of the season. You literally do nothing and then strap on your skis and hope for the best. Those of us not up to par on the slopes to begin with are literally moving hazards! aka Justin and Cathy…

IMG_6020IMG_6032Courcheval is the most eastern ski resort of the 3 valleys in the French Alps. The ski area is said to be the largest in the world with over 600km of connected ski slopes providing an endless amount of ground to play in. It is often hailed as the “best ski resort in Europe, if you can afford it”. Perhaps that explains why the lifts were basically queue free…?! Apparently Courcheval 1850 ranks as the 6th most expensive place in the world (information that would’ve been handy prior to booking!!) and it’s become such a prestigious resort, the French introduced a 6 star rating system for hotels they call ‘palaces’. (what?!) There are 7 restaurants with Michelin star status and numerous designer shops including Louis Vuitton, Prada and Chanel. No riff raff here. The resort is simply beautiful – with gingerbread style houses covered in snow, fairy lights galore, christmas trees twinkling in the forest and warm wooden chalet style buildings lining the roads. If the wind is blowing in the right direction you can smell the money…not ours of course. I’ve never seen so much animal fur, white polyester and toy pooches in one place – needless to say, people watching was at an absolute premium!

IMG_6098IMG_6010We stayed at the Mercure Hotel which was a lovely little ski-in and out 3 star hotel – a glorious 50m from Jardin Alpin gondola. We had a view from our room across the iced over lake to the ski fields; which was divine to wake up to but also an acute reminder of the near stacks from the day before! Warm and welcoming with a roaring open fire in the bar area and extremely friendly staff  (I counted 8 ‘bonjour’s’ one morning on my way to breakfast!) the Mercure ticked all the boxes. Jardin Alpin also gave us direct access to both the ski fields and also the main village of Courcheval 1850 – who doesn’t love catching a gondola to dinner?!

Food was a major theme for our trip – huge surprise. Initially we fretted about how were were going to eat once the true VIP status of the resort sunk in. The good news is, if you’re prepared to do a bit of searching, there is still value to be found in Courcheval. Baguettes and crepes for lunch in the village (not on the mountain), pizza for dinner and apres ski kick off in your hotel room works a treat! We also managed to find a very cool bar / restaurant called L’Equipe with fantastic service and a buzzing atmosphere which didn’t break the bank. La Cloche on our final night also served up some incredible French food in a cosy and festive setting.

IMG_5966IMG_6004Doing as the Europeans do, we had our Chrissy celebrations on Christmas Eve. Adorned in our gaudy Christmas jumpers, blow up crowns on our heads and lulled by the dulcet tones of Michael Buble, we kicked off Chrissy Eve with some secret santa action. Sitting in the bar area with tears running down our faces and making little strangled screeching noises from laughing we may have frightened a few children. Pretty sure most people were happy to see us dash for the 8pm gondola to leave them in peace! Le Genepi cooked up a fine feast for dinner with outstanding food, friendly wait staff, a warm and cosy setting, tasteful and festive decorations and of course a hefty bill to send us on our merry way. Oh well, when in Rome!

IMG_1484The snow conditions delivered a mixed bag over the 4 days. Freshly groomed and speedy, icy and scary, mushy and tough to turn in, sparse and dangerous, powdery and challenging pistes – we had it all. Fortunately it snowed one day giving us plenty to play in at the Courcheval 1850 level and above. Anything below was a tad unfriendly. Day 3 we hauled ourselves across to Val Thorens and reached pretty much the highest point in the 3 valleys at 3100m. After flying down what we considered the speed track several times, we kicked back mountainside with our panini’s and coffees in the sun feeling pretty happy with ourselves. Tres bien! The old legs were completely and utterly gone by the end of the 4th day – in the absence of a warning sign to hang around my neck, we kept the action to only a few hours.

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Despite the pricey reputation of Courcheval, we managed to enjoy great skiing conditions without the crowds, and glorious food that didn’t make us feel like the bottom of our pants had been ripped out. However I’ve never been made more aware of my true income bracket. With fur coats being sold for around €95,000 up the road, my Zara jacket (bought on sale) didn’t really fit in. The absence of a Russian accent also didn’t help our blending potential and I’m not convinced our festive christmas attire helped our situation either…

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Getting our Christmas on in Vienna

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When: 29/11/2012                                                                                                       Where: Vienna, Austria                                                                                               Stayed: Best Western Premier Kaiserhof Wien

IMG_5835Top travel destination, Worlds most livable city, City of Music, City of Dreams… the list of claims to fame for Vienna goes on. I can say with absolute confidence that ‘City of Christmas Market Magic’ should be added to the list of descriptors. Herein lies a wonderland of Christmas nostalgia, trinkets, lighting, food and beauty unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.

IMG_5761With around 16 traditional Christmas markets spread across the city it’s almost impossible to avoid being swept up in the festive spirit. If the aromas of roasted chestnuts and Christmas punch don’t draw you in, then the sight of langos (deep fried bread), Bratwurst,  and Brummel cake in a mug with vanilla sauce most likely will.  Even the Gringiest of us would find it hard to knock back the warm and fuzzy Christmas glow that creeps into your cold bones (it was -2 degrees) as you take in the razzle dazzle of lights and carols across the city. What’s not to love about rounding a corner of the old town and stumbling across a pop up market offering you a warm cup of Gluhwein to help ease the stinging in your finger tips? ‘I know it’s only 11am on Sunday but ja, zwei bitte!’

IMG_5667It probably goes without saying that not every city would be able to pull off Christmas markets on this scale without coming across as tacky. The lighting verges of Grizwold style at times and surely there’s a limit to the number of gluhwein and roasted chestnut vendors you can have in any one city. However Vienna with it’s cobblestone streets, beautiful boutique shops, classic galleries and traditional coffee houses oozes such charm in it’s own right that the addition of wooden market stalls just serves to compliment it’s style. Even in the midst of Christmas market peak hour with 300 buses rocking up Vienna somehow managed to retain it’s authenticity…just.

IMG_5837The Christmas markets appeared to cater for different audiences which added to it’s appeal and ability to avoid tacky territory. Rathauspark with it’s festively decorated trees, enough lighting to give you a headache, theme park layout, fairy tale scenes and sheer volume of stalls bordered on over-the-top for us. Despite the lighting extravaganza, the positioning of the market in front of the City Hall was pretty spectacular. In contrast to the tourist trail of Rahauspark and also Marien Platz, Museum Quarter provided a drinking set up for the younger generation (so, not us) which we felt compelled to visit. A semi circle of bars lay at the foot of Leopold Museum offering tantalizing Christmas punch of an extraordinary range of flavors as well as old faithful Gluhwein. This was clearly where the cool kids went to drink.

IMG_5788IMG_5779Cool kids also frequented the Spittelberg markets, buried in the back streets behind Museum Quarter. These markets had more of a rough and ready feel to it with barely a word of English spoken and little of the glitz and glamour of the tourist driven markets across town. Imperfect homemade goodies, edgy, arty looking people and brilliant fried and fatty food. Here we were introduced to the Kartoffelpuffer… a fried potato delight covered in garlic and salt. No wonder they say the Germans miss this food most when they move away…we’ve been pining for it ever since. Karlsplatz was another market we returned to several times, possibly because it was rolling distance to our hotel but no need to dwell on that. With more of an art & craft flavour to it, Karlsplatz gave us a little insight into the local trade and traditional Viennese gifts.

IMG_5847We stayed in the Best Western Premier Kaiserhof Wien. Very hard to say a bad word about this hotel – quiet, friendly and full of Viennese charm the hotel was conveniently located and most importantly, put on a phenomenal spread for Breakfast. Suffice to say our eating bonanza in Vienna well and truly started at breaky…

IMG_5731Not only did we gorge ourselves at the markets but we also graced a local restaurant called Gusshaus. (Turns out there are only so many sausages and fried things you can eat before you start to feel ill). Gusshaus came highly recommended by our hotel so we arrived full of anticipation at the evening ahead. We were only marginally deterred by the completely empty room that met our arrival. You know it’s quiet when you’re sitting at the table listening to the clock tick on the wall and whispering to each other for fear of disturbing the wait staff… fortunately things improved from there and we had a fantastic meal of Wiener Snitzchel. The restaurant was full by the time we left. Say no more.

IMG_5738The other diversion from the Christmas markets came in the form of Viennese coffee houses. Two standouts – Museum cafe and Cafe Landtmann (Sigmund Freud’s preferred cafe apparently) sent Justin into a little happy place at the quality of coffee. The Apple Strudel and vanilla custard also helped. The coffee houses are set up so that in theory, you could order one coffee and that would give you the right to sit there all day. Famous writers, artists, scientists and politicians are known to frequent the coffee houses. They’re credited with helping to affirm the current social culture in Vienna giving people a space to come and relax, read international newspapers, work and socialise. Yep, big tick to the Viennese coffee houses!

IMG_5680IMG_5897All in all Vienna exceeded our expectations. Even the stilted and somewhere frustrating walking tour in both German and English where we felt certain we were only hearing half the stories (you can’t tell me a 5minute spiel in German only takes 1 minute in English…hmmmm) couldn’t dampen our spirits. We came away from Vienna not only feeling sick from a bizarre combination of foods but solemnly vowing to return to discover life beyond Christmas markets in the city.

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Getting a good dose of reality in Berlin

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When: 8/11/2012                                                                                                         Where: Berlin, Germany                                                                                             Stayed: Adina Hotel, Hackerscher markt

Berlin rocks. There’s not one thing in particular that makes it rock, it just does. Even as a couple of battlers who were only just surfacing from a bout of food poisoning (which seriously hampered the number of bratwurst we could stomach I might add), Berlin shone in all it’s glory. It’s friendly and unpretentious tone, jaw dropping history and ability to make you feel right at home, ensured the city has been marked with a big star as somewhere to return to on our list.

Day 1 in Berlin kicked off with a statistic that is tricky to wrap your head around. Twenty-three years ago exactly the Berlin Wall was torn down (Nov 9 1989). What?! ONLY 23 years ago?! I was 10 years old – it’s extraordinary to think that something as significant and extraordinary as that happened in my childhood. Of course I had heard of the Berlin Wall to some degree but never actually considered what it truly meant for the people. It was something happening on the other side of the world and therefore not something I ever really understood. But being there and hearing some of the stories finally made it a reality.

To think that one day the Berliners simply woke up to discover that they could no longer move freely – regardless of whether their job and family were across the city. They were now divided by a 140km wall that would stand for 28 years. The Eastern Bloc claimed the wall was there to protect the people of the East from those who hadn’t been de-natzified on the West; a tough sell if your family lived only a few hundred meters away. 5,000 attempted to cross the ‘death strip’ using all kinds of clever approaches such as flying in a balloon and digging tunnels.

Together with the presence of Checkpoint Charlie (which was the third major checkpoint for foreigners and members of the allied forces wishing to cross the border), Brandenburg gate is a constant reminder of this passage in history. It represents a former symbol of the divided city where people could see from the viewing platform across the death strip and beyond the iron curtain to the other side.

Berlin is like a museum in itself. Throughout the Free Walking tour we were continually shocked and intrigued by the stories associated with what would otherwise seem to be relatively insignificant buildings or chunks of land.

For example, standing in a random car park our guide informed us that below our feet was the Bunker where Hitler hid for months, married and killed himself at the end of WW2. And the casual reference to part of the Wall still standing across the road from where we were waiting at the lights. Huh?! The Topography of Terror exhibition actually sits on the site of what was previously the headquarters of the Gestapo and SS. Hard to believe that walking around this exhibition which portrays the system of terror and crimes that were perpetrated throughout Europe was actually masterminded on the very ground you’re walking on. Crazy and humbling stuff.

Probably one of the more significant landmarks for us was the Holocaust memorial site – paying tribute to the 6 million Jews murdered. Across 19,000 square metres stand 2,711 concrete slabs, arranged in some kind of grid pattern. According to the architect, the slabs are designed to produce a confusing atmosphere in a supposedly ordered system. Our guide prompted us to think about why the slabs were of differing heights, proportions, angles and sizes – similar but different.

Peering down the isles was quite an eerie experience – you could quite often hear people talking but not see them amongst the endless rows of grey. It’s size is overwhelming, no doubt on purpose to give a sense of enormity. Despite the many people at the site, you almost felt alone as the wind sends a chill down your spine and the shadows created by the slabs send you into patches of darkness. Moving and incredibly memorable however the site has created a huge amount of controversy after costing in the vicinity of 25million Euro to build. For me, what it stands for is something I will always remember and given it’s location, I imagine something the Berliners and any visitors can’t help but be reminded of.

We stayed in a modern and friendly hotel called Adina Apartments which was in the Hackerscher district with easy access to all the key sites. A 5min walk to Alexanderplatz – a large public square that houses Berlin’s tallest structure; the TV Tower (also famous for a scene from the Bourne Identity!) and 10mins to Museum Island (home to 5 internationally recognised museums).

We were also very close to a lovely little pocket of German restaurants in the Nikolai Quarter that looked every bit out of a German fairy tale to me. With lights sprinkled throughout the trees, fires burning in the windows and laughter echoing across the cobblestone streets I was a pretty happy camper. We ended up settling at Gerichtslaube on the first night for our fix of German food complete with Bratwurst, potatoes and Sauerkraut. Night number 2 we followed the locals down to Oranienburger strabe to a pub called Auschwurts where a platter of currywurst, meatballs, cheeses, pickles and veggies changed our lives. Always pays to go local!!

Another highlight for us was a stroll through Tiergarten on the Western side of the city. With Autumn in full swing, we quickly became enveloped in a kaleidoscope of colors. Yellow, orange and red with a touch of green under foot and all around us provided a mesmerizing whirlpool of color, enchanting stuff and tough to leave behind after being tucked in by it for a few hours.

All in all Berlin ticked the right boxes for us. It even delivered a pop up Xmas markets in Potsdamer platz to help us get into the Chrissy spirit. What more could a Chrissy fiend from way back ask for in November?! Our little bubble of joy only popped by an onslaught of profanity dished out on the plane by our local Chavs returning from a bucks weekend. An acute reminder that yes, we are now on our way back to London…

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Stacking on the kilos in Istanbul

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When: 13/10/2012                                                                                                       Where: Istanbul, Turkey                                                                                              Stayed: Muyan Suites

You know when you’re oohing and ahhhing about the food on the plane that you’re in for a real treat once you’re on terra firma. And boy did Istanbul live up to this expectation and more. In fact the food was so good that we thought about tipping the guy on the street corner an extra 20 quid for the 65p lamb doner we bought from him – where else in the world do you get restaurant quality food from a dude on the street?!

Istanbul is one of those cities that no matter how long you spend there, you feel as though you’ve only scratched the surface. Being such a melting pot of cultures, there is an incredible mix of food, fashion, languages and architecture. People watching in the different neighborhoods is almost worth paying for with a mind blowing contrast between the modern and ancient. Being the only city in the world to straddle two different continents (Europe and Asia) and with around 15 million people living there, the diversity is probably not really surprising. Istanbul is split in half by the Bosphorous straight – the stretch of water which leads from the Marmara Sea to the Black Sea. During our cruise on the Bosphorous it was quite hard to wrap your head around the fact that different sides of the boat sported views of different continents. Mansions and Palaces from the Ottoman period adorn the European sides of the Bosphorous where the most expensive real estate in Istanbul exists. The tell-tale curvy triangular roof tops indicated the Asian influence on the opposing side.

We stayed in the old town known as Sultanahmet which has retained a significant amount of it’s Ottoman and Byzantine heritage. This is where most of the Islamic treasures of the city are housed with the Blue Mosque (a beautiful building from the 1600’s with intricate blue tiling), Hagia Sophia (a grand christian church converted to a mosque after the Ottoman conquest) and the Basilica Cistern (an underground water chamber from the 6th century where Medusa’s head is housed) being some of the main attractions. Here the women still dress in the modest Muslim tradition, men push carts around selling their wares and the traditional bazaars of a bygone era still thrive. This is in stark contrast to the modern heart of the city in the north with Beyoglu and Galata bursting at the seams with bars, nightclubs and high street brands. Barely a headscarf to be seen on this side. The common thread across the entire city however is the call the prayer which rings out 5 times a day. Regardless of whether you’re shopping in Zara or bartering in the Grand Bazaar, the call to prayer reminds you of the Islamic roots of the city.

Our hotel was called Muyan Suites – a basic no frills type accommodation, within walking distance to everything and with exceptionally friendly staff. The staff jumped to their feet every time we entered reception and showed us a type of courtesy we’ve never experienced before. I had to restrain myself from saying ‘at ease’ or just run through reception to save them the trouble of getting up every single time! The nature of our hotel staff was consistent with the people of Istanbul all over the city much to our delight. The wait staff were warm and polite and very keen to have a joke with us. An exceptional grasp of the English language, many wait staff shocked us with their wit and ability to understand the confusing English idioms.

Add to this some exceptional food and it’s easy to see why eating out provided us with some of our most memorable experiences. Outstanding meze platters, mouth watering lamb, Aubergine anyway you like it, kebabs, meatballs, chicken crepes, spicy tomato dips, fresh bread that’s never tasted so good, roasted chestnuts on the street and baklava that provided an out of body experience – the list goes on. How do they get those smokey flavors into everything?! Our favorite restaurants were Amedros and a real standout – Metropolis. Turkish coffee was tough on the palate – even for us seasoned coffee drinkers – but the Turkish tea (apple flavored was the best) served in the tulip shaped glasses was incredible. Roof top bars and restaurants were also quite common across the city; especially with the temperature hovering around the mid 20’s. The best view from the Old Town was from the Seven Hills Hotel which looked across the Golden Horn taking in both the ancient and modern faces of the city.

Visiting the traditional bazaars of Istanbul gave some real insight into how business has probably been conducted here for centuries. The Grand Bazaar with it’s 4,000 shops, maze of streets and hundreds of people spruiking their wares was a bit like something out of a movie set. As Turkey’s largest undercover market with wall to wall leather, denim, jewelry and silk goods, it was easy to think you were walking in circles. It’s difficult to establish a point of reference when everything looks the same and you’re feeling overwhelmed by noise and colors! Justin and I had to wonder how on earth anyone in the Grand Bazaar made any money when you didn’t have a USP to work with.

My favorite Bazaar was Arasta Bazaar, buried in the Old Town. A far more civilized experience with charming little shops with handmade goods. Everything moved at a slower pace here and the sales men were keen to sit down and have a Turkish tea with you to discuss options. Needless to say I got sucked into making several purchases. At a ‘good price, good price for you’…of course.

The Spice market also provided a sensory overload experience. Spices, dried fruits, nuts, pastries and seeds on display with hundreds of people yelling at you from all directions made us feel a little overwhelmed. I found myself being shepherded by Justin as I turned into a stunned mullet, not knowing which way to turn. Justin aptly described it as a sweaty mass of heaving humanity. Exhausting stuff but an experience that allowed you to feel some of the true roots of the city.

Coming up for air on the northern side of the Spice market you instantly plunge headfirst into the mayhem of the Fish markets in order to reach Galata Bridge and the other side of the city. If the stench of fish doesn’t make you gag, the smell of sweat from the armpit wedged up against you probably will. It’s the kind of suffocating environment where you can’t see your feet and you find yourself getting claustrophobic within a few seconds. I’ll never complain about tube travel in London again. Nevertheless, we still found ourselves smiling as we emerged from underground to see hundreds of fishermen lined up on Galata Bridge, the backdrop of the sprawling city looking every bit picture perfect.

All in all Istanbul provided us with a cultural experience unlike anything else. Seeing the staff from our hotel standing on the road waving goodbye to us as our taxi departed for the airport was a fitting farewell to this extraordinary city. Even the erratic driving from our cab driver who even insisted on stopping for a smoke while we waited for a car to move couldn’t dampen our impressions of the city. With so much more still to see and eat, a return visit has been moved rapidly up our list of travel destinations.

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Laying like lizards in the Algarve

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When:14/9/2012                                                                                                          Where: Carvoeiro, The Algarve, Portugal                                                                   Stayed: Monte Santo Resort

Arriving in Portugal and being forced to strip off layers of clothing at Faro airport was an absolute pleasure. After whispers of Winter from London, the balmy 24 degrees just shy of midnight was very welcome. Even waiting 1.5hrs for our hire car in the wee hours of the morning followed by another 25mins to get our newest Sat Nav mate to play ball (Tom Tom AKA ‘Tommy’) didn’t dampen our spirits. Overheating with a sheen of oil on your skin and 5 blissful days ahead of absolutely nothing only meant one thing – holidays!

Knowing very little about Portugese culture we felt ill prepared for our journey to the Algarve. Fearing the ignorant tourist title, I set about cramming some basic facts and language skills on the drive from the airport to our resort. Very sadly, we returned without knowing all that much more than when we arrived….welcome to Brits abroad folks. English menus and English translations on every piece of signage with barely an echo of Portugese language to be heard. We hunted down the local culture as best we could during our stay but it wasn’t all that easy I’m disappointed to say.

Whatever disappointments we felt about our search for the real Portugal, our expectations when it came to the coastline were well and truly met. Stretches of golden sandy beaches against backdrops of imposing red cliff faces were a little mirage-like for a couple of Aussie battlers who’ve been craving a real beach. Having salt encrusted hair so stiff you could almost snap it was actually a pleasure, as was the smell of roasting skin on the bottom of your feet from the stinking hot sand. Working through the sun cream application logistics every morning followed by the sun burn assessment in the evening became an enjoyable routine. Ah yes, this was very familiar territory.

The Algarve has hundreds of beaches across it’s 200km stretch of coastline. All with varying degrees of commercialism, surf-ability, swim friendliness and expanses of white sand. We stayed in the idillic town of Carvoeiro which is roughly mid way along the Algarve coastline between Faro and Sagres. The town is fronted by a small beach which leads onto the main square – a popular spot for bands and middle aged tourists to re-discover their dancing legs. Winding, narrow, roller coaster-ish streets dotted with restaurants and cafes offered plenty of variety in cuisines. Two restaurants stood out for us – ‘Onze’ which did a modern spin on Greek food and knocked our socks off, and ‘Happys’ which treated us to some excellent local cooking – well and truly worth the third visit it took to get a table!

In addition to a plentiful supply of eateries, the beachside bars nestled into the sand dunes and cliff faces provided spectacular spots for cheeky afternoon drinks. These were the real heroes of the town for us with a relaxed and friendly atmosphere, complimented by a magnificent sunset and brilliantly fresh food. Staring out to sea as the sun faded behind the cliff at O Stop Beach cafe, Justin and I often found ourselves in a bit of a trance like state. Life was pretty good….with it’s little tables propped up in the sand and super cheap cocktails it would’ve been rude not to go back the following afternoon!

We stayed at Monte Santo Resort which was a 3min drive from the town centre. The apartments were spacious, modern and exceptionally clean but sadly that was about the extent of the so called ‘5 star’ luxury. Catering for families it was impossible to find any peace close to the main part of the resort and we found ourselves hiding around the back of the pool trying to escape the little screaming tackers and all their energy. Smuggling some beers poolside helped to ease the pain a little and we managed to find times that the kiddies appeared to have worn out their batteries to pay the pool a visit. Not quite the indulgent relaxing experience we were hoping for..but lets face it, not too shabby either.

During our stay we ventured up the coastline to check out some of the neighboring beaches. Despite ‘Tommy’ being a little moody and endeavoring to take us through orchards and backyards, we eventually made our way up to Sagres. Renowned for it’s surf beaches and for being the most South Western point of Europe, Sagres was a no frills town that appeared to be least affected by the tourism machine. Although there was very little else there, it was a pleasure to hear a few local accents and see the beaches stand alone, just speaking for themselves. An afternoon on the beach followed by drinks at Telheiro Restaurant and fresh prawns (clearly not for me!) overlooking the water was simply perfect. In direct contrast to this was Prai Da Rocha. Unfortunately this town gave us flash backs to Alicante with all its high rises, large chain hotels, dirty streets and 80’s inspired marketing. Despite having a stretch of sand as far as the eye could see, the experience felt very manufactured – not what we signed up for. We pretty much left skid marks on the road trying to get back to the relative serenity of Carvoeiro.

Being spoilt for choice of beaches in Australia, and struggling to find a taste of anything similar in Europe, it was a real joy to finally sink our teeth into a proper beach holiday. Turn up the volume on the Portugese flavor and it would’ve been the perfect package. Nevertheless, Carvoeiro ticked our sun, surf, sand and good food boxes – anything more would’ve been greedy.

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Seriously missing the camera in Budapest

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When: 10/8/2012 – 12/8/2012                                                                                     Where: Budapest, Hungary                                                                                        Stayed: Hotel Palazzo Zichy

If there’s ever a city you definitely don’t want to leave the camera battery behind, it’s Budapest. (pronounced Buda-pesh). Unfortunately that’s precisely what we did and oddly, coming home to a gloriously fully charged battery did absolutely nothing to ease our pain. Nor did pointlessly scrolling through our second rate iPhone photos post trip in search of a few winners. Ahh well, had to happen at least once! Just a shame it was Europe’s most picturesque city…yep the wound is still raw.

Hotel Palazzo Zichy

We stayed at a hotel around 15 – 20mins walk outside of the action in Budapest, on the Pest side of the city called Hotel Palazzo Zichy. A mixture of old worldy and modern with a palatial feel, it offered exceptionally good value for money, especially with a breakfast for all nations laid out in the morning for guests to gorge themselves on. Staff were extremely helpful and friendly but unfortunately the location proved to be that little bit too far away for our tired legs to cope with. Not quite the fit units we used to be…

Alfresco dining by the River Danube

Most people will know that Budapest is separated into 2 distinct parts by the famous Danube river – Buda and Pest. In keeping with it’s reputation for beauty, it has a very large number of world heritage sites listed including the banks of the Danube, Buda castle quarter, Andrassy Avenue (Hungarian version of the Champs Elysees) and the Millennium underground railway. Apparently the underground is the second oldest in the world and boy does it feel like that too. We had to laugh every time the Super Marios’ music announced our arrival at a new station. The doors open while the train is still moving (not PC in this day and age of paranoia) and the creaking coming from the carriages is at times deafening. However, it’s incredibly fast and efficient and cheap to boot! No complaints here that’s for sure.

The language was pretty much impossible for us to grasp and we were somewhat relieved when our walking tour guide (Sara) told us that it’s one of the most difficult languages in the world to learn. In fact, it’s so hard to understand that it’s often the language used in movies to depict an alien world. Sara relayed an example from a particular movie where two aliens were speaking to each other in Hungarian and the conversation was along the lines of ‘i want your cake’, ‘no you can’t have my cake’, ‘give me your cake’….apparently it was supposed to be dubbed out when screened in Hungary but it was an oversight. Whoops!

Szechenyi Baths

Following a few hours of pavement pounding courtesy of the Free Walking tour – throughout the cobblestone streets of Pest from Vorosmarty square to St Stephen Basilika, up the Danube and then across to Matthias Church on the Buda side of the river for a cracking view – we decided to rest our weary feet at the Szecheny Baths. Budapest is famous for its geothermal springs of which there are around 80 in the city – hence the title of Spa city. The Baths were hot and packed to the rafters with tourists – not a great combination when you’ve done a few years of Podiatric studies and are acutely aware of some of the hideous foot conditions you can pick up in these kinds of conditions. Putting my fear of fungal infections and sweaty armpits to the side we embraced the baths and plunged into the hottest one, sitting at around 38 degrees. 1.5hrs later 4 elderly people emerged, dehydrated, pruned up and over-heating and plunged straight into a cooler bath for relief. Probably should’ve paid attention to the warning of 20mins maximum…Nevertheless, turns out there was a whirl pool in the second pool which ensured we got back in touch with our inner screaming child. Awesome!

Dinner at Cafe Lago

Eating was an absolute pleasure in Budapest and it was only after hearing the description of what is done to the food that I realised why I liked it so much. Twice frying, adding sugar and butter to everything, cooking in lard, eating cottage cheese that is quite possibly harmful to the body in the mere presence of the word and dough so salty it may very well give you leg cramps from dehydration. Yep it’s great stuff! I couldn’t go past the goulash with it’s hearty flavours, chunks of meat and yummy noodles though. I detected a few veggies so have decided it’s practically healthy too. Fortunately we managed to find 2 restaurants at polar ends of the scale in Budapest to sample their wares. Borkonyha Wine Kitchen in the heart of the city offered a modern version of the cuisine in a sleek and hip environment. In contrast, Lado Cafe took us back to the 80’s era in Hungary with old style food and cheesy on-stage entertainment that we lapped up. With a waiter akin to Mr Bean and clientele not out of place in a swing-dance venue it felt like an authentic local experience.

Cafe Spoon – introduction to the tipping protocol

Early in our visit we discovered the local custom of not leaving a tip on the table (which is considered rude) and holding back ‘thank you’ until receiving your change unless you’re not interested in getting it back. After a drink at Spoon Cafe on the River Danube, Justin murmured out the side of his mouth to the waiter how much we’d like to pay as a tip so we didn’t have to deal with the money-on-the-table scenario. The waiter looked at us like we were doing an under the table deal so perhaps we hadn’t quite mastered the tipping arrangement… all very complicated when the language is about as foreign as whale communication to you.

Part of the view from Matthias Church in Buda

All in all Budapest had a great vibe with plenty of alfesco dining along the Danube and throughout the streets of Pest, and a young festive atmosphere around Elisabeth square. Riding the tram along the Danube allowed us to take in the fantastic sights of the city from Margit Island (grassy sporting area) to Parliament, to Castle Hill and then to the Central Market Hall (foodie delight if you get there early enough!). So many different faces to Budapest and an intriguing history with extreme turbulence up until very recently making you feel like there’s a lot still so uncertain about this friendly city. One thing is for certain though – it has well and truly earned it’s title amongst the ranks of beautiful cities in the world. Just a shame we didn’t have the good camera to capture it….

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Getting cultured in Krakow

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When:  05/08/2012 – 08/2012

Where: Krakow, Poland

Stayed: Crystal Suites Apartments

 

Apart from finally getting to see some summer sun (yes I’m aware of how sad that statement is), probably the biggest surprise of Krakow was just how friendly and helpful the people were. From the moment our airport transfer bus driver insisted on showing us where the best gelato could be found on the map (at midnight), we knew this was going to be a cracking trip.

We stayed at some lovely new apartments in the Kazimierz district called Crystal Suites. Our host’s name was Martin (aka Millhouse from the Simpsons according to Justin) and you couldn’t have scripted better service. Martin went to such great lengths that he even booked us a trip to Auschwitz at 1am for 9am pick up the next day – impressive!

Spotlessly clean, modern, comfy and on the main square in the Jewish quarter our apartment far surpassed our expectations. Complete with a breakfast of champions at the alfresco downstairs cafe there wasn’t much to complain about.

Beck outside our apartment in the Jewish Quarter

We’d been slightly apprehensive about visiting Auschwitz but knew it was something we had to experience in our lifetime. Auschwitz I is now set up like a museum but despite this slightly artificial experience and the volume of tourists, there was certainly no absence of sadness permeating the air. The stories and visible remnants of the travesty were so overwhelming and unfathomable that at times it felt very much like a movie set. The devastation and ugliness of humanity at it’s worst is worlds away from what most of us will ever even come close to understanding.

Auschwitz I

The first thing I noticed on arrival was the train tracks through the centre of the camp. Knowing that hundreds of thousands of prisoners were transported under inconceivable conditions kick started the little stabbing pains of sorrow in my gut. ‘Work makes one free’ stands eerily above the gates and is a reminder of how insane the premise for this camp actually was.

In an environment almost impossible to relate to, not surprisingly it was the more personal items in some of the rooms that affected us the most. A pile of hundreds of suitcases with handwritten names written on the front prompted us to think about what the prisoners were actually expecting on arrival in Auschwitz. You can only imagine the feeling of disbelief and complete and utter desperation followed by most likely anger and then heart break when the reality of their new existence set in.

Berkanau (Auschwitz II)

At first I felt a bit numb trying to wrap my head around what we were seeing, but as we saw and heard more and more evidence of survival, torture and death at Auschwitz I was overcome with a sense of sheer hopelessness. Thousands of pairs of shoes and incredibly personal items such as razors and hair brushes that were confiscated haunt my memories. The pictures on the walls of the prisoners with their hollow eyes and empty stares were chilling – but it was the room with pictures of children that shook me to the core. I won’t even mention the day to day torture that was the norm or the human experimentation. It’s enough to know that even surviving the camp was utter torture in itself.

The barracks at Berkanau

Similar to most people, we found Berkanau (Auschwitz II) to be even more confronting. Very little remains of the original site following Nazi destruction but it is the lack of restoration that makes it even more difficult to swallow.

As the scene of mass genocide unlike anything the world had ever seen, the confusion and panic that would have ensued as the ‘unfit’ were led into ‘showers for sanitation’ – aka gas chambers – is incomprehensible. Those who were kept alive had their own battles to fight with living conditions that could only be described as impossible. It is true testament to the human spirit and drive for survival that anyone made it out alive.

Needless to say our drive back to Krakow was a quiet one as we tried to make sense of the insanity we’d heard about and seen over the last few hours.

De-briefing post Auschwitz

Several reflective beers later, it was like a breath of fresh air to join the 3 hour free walking tour in Krakow. Greeted by the tour guide who stared at our footwear (thongs) and proclaimed ‘you must be Aussie!’ got us off to a positive start. Within 60secs we were rolling with laughter at the hilarious anecdotes and stories the guide relayed in outstanding english. Extremely well informed and passionate about the city, the time few and we came away significantly more educated on the culture and history of Krakow. Our education even extended to Australia’s very own Mt Kosciuszko which we’ve apparently been mispronouncing for years given it’s the name of a Polish explorer and should be pronounced as ‘Mt Kush kosh ko’. Hmmm pretty embarrassing moment in front of the tour group…

Our hilarious free walking tour guide

There was a definite theme to our trip to Krakow – pierogi, vodka and beer. Massive surprise. Fortunately we managed to find what is touted as some of the best pierogi in Krakow in the back street of the city after some valuable advice from Millhouse.

A little hole in the wall family run place called Pierogarnia served up some simple but delicious dumplings that had our tummies swollen and our brains malfunctioning as we did battle over navigating the backstreets on the way home. (yes ok so I was the one who got confused by the map..) In exasperation Justin complained ‘what’s worse than one Prior female trying to read a map? Two of you!’ My cousin (Beck) and I still don’t know what he’s talking about…

Pierogi – yummo!

Our introduction to local vodka at Wesele was just as memorable but for all the wrong reasons unfortunately. Beck and I selected cherry vodka which was a safe but solid option. Justin’s vodka made our eyes water before we even saw it. A tentative first sip resulted in some serious heat on throat action. Is this even legal Justin asked? At 70% alcohol we felt a tiny little warning might have been served up with the drink…perhaps the joke was on us?! So ensued a team effort over a good hour to finish the single glass of vodka that was pretty close to lethal. Thank god no matches were lit in our presence.

Getting into the local culture with vodka

Over the 2 days we had in Krakow we made our way around the local bars, lapping up the sunshine and what seemed to be criminally cheap drinks. Our favorites included Alchemia for sidewalk people watching and a little outdoor gem that sat next to the setting from one of the all time greatest movies – Schindlers list. Turns out its also popular with the locals as some new Polish friends we made in a ridiculously long line for Zapiekanki (cross between pizza and baguette with a range of toppings) informed us.

Party time underneath our window

Our trip to Krakow rounded out with the Jewish festival which was held in the main square in Kazimierz – under our window as luck would have it. Some serious dancing and singing with smiles ear to ear shouted nothing other than ‘pure joy’ to us. Unaided by alcohol it was an absolute pleasure to be reminded of the simple things in life that should be cherished and appreciated. Apparently every year the festival takes place with 10,000 people busting moves together in a celebration of love and life. Fantastic.

Incredibly friendly people, food to add kilos to your waistline in mere days, cheap drinks and a city steeped in fascinating, harrowing and important history – definitely one to tell the kids about.

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When in Rome…ahem, Copenhagen

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When:  01/06/2012 – 04/06/2012

Where: Copenhagen, Denmark

Stayed: Best Western Mercur

When I think about Copenhagen I picture thousands of locals on older style commuter bikes sitting bolt upright with baskets on the front, riding single file in a peaceful and civilized fashion. In reality, that’s exactly what it looked like. With 36% of people riding to work it’s no wonder you have to be equally wary of bikes as cars.

Copenhagen is frequently touted as a city with an incredibly high quality of life. It’s not all that hard to see where that claim has come from. If I could easily switch between 2 languages, had my very own bike lane complete with traffic lights, could walk clean and safe streets at any time of day and eat at some of the best restaurants in the world (including Noma – world’s #1 restaurant) and look at jaw dropping architecture as part of everyday life I reckon I’d be pretty happy too.

As well as a good quality of life, Copenhagen is famous for being expensive. Of course if you ate every meal on the tourist trail you would have this experience. I can speak with authority on this because we found out the hard way – inevitably. Day 1 we moseyed through the city to Nyhavn (New harbor) which is a bustling al fresco area full of restaurants and cafes lining the water. Getting a bit rapt up in the excitement we chose the rockstar position on the water for lunch followed by a couple of local beers and an open sandwich – the traditional Danish lunch. 65 pounds later we felt like we’d been robbed and post-purchase regret kicked in. Turns out, one street back off the water, you can get the same lunch for 20 pounds. Yep, chalk that one up to experience.

The city is easily accessible from the airport by a 20min train direct to central station. Our accommodation was located about 8mins walk from the station. Sadly, unless you’re a comatose sleeper and get lulled by the roar of a passing train, the proximity was pretty much the only good thing about our accommodation. Unfortunately, hotels are probably one of the most expensive things about Copenhagen -needless to say beggars can’t be choosers. However an amazing cafe nearby (Estate Coffee) went a long way towards redeeming the situation. The pedestrian pace of the service is far outweighed by the attention and precision of the barista. Divine.

We’ve decided that the best way to see Copenhagen is on a boat or bike. We gave both options a work out which provided 2 quite distinct views of the city. Despite the ferocity of the wind and rain on the canal, it was really interesting to see the unique and diverse architecture across the city. The Opera House, Play House and Royal Library (black Diamond) dominate the inner harbor scene and are quite spectacular with their contemporary designs.

At the other end of the scale, Nyhavn contains beautiful multicolored buildings dating back to 1680’s – many of which have barely been altered. Famous residents including Hans Christian Anderson have lived here. Similarly, set back off the water, Amelienborg Palace (home to the royals), consisting of 4 identical buildings around a courtyard is considered to be derived from some of the best architecture in Denmark from the 1700’s. It’s not hard to see why this fusion of the old and new in Copenhagen is probably best experienced from the back streets as well as the front row seats of the canal.

In all our travels we’ve noticed that pretty much every city has a tourist attraction that’s grossly overrated. In Copenhagen that honor went to the Little Mermaid. It is one of the most photographed statues in Europe but unfortunately in our opinion, it’s reputation is not befitting the reality. The Little Mermaid was one of my favorite stories as a youngster and even I couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for this relatively small and insignificant looking figure that required some serious elbow-to-rib action to get close to it.

I’ve always perceived the Danish as being a pretty trendy sort of population. Walking the world’s longest shopping street – Stroget- reaffirmed this view in spades. 1.1km of pretty much every designer and high street brand in the world coupled with boutique homewares shops saw me mentally sell the house to stock up. Retail therapy to the point of destruction.

Once we figured out where NOT to eat in Copenhagen we really found our foodie stride. We had an exceptional meal at trendy Nimb opposite the Tivoli Gardens, ate with the uni students at Paludan’s Book & Cafe in the city, had lunch with the locals at Cafe 22 on the river and had drinks / tapas at Falernum near a surprising number of strip joints in Vesterbro. All very different but each having beautifully fresh ingredients, unusual flavor combinations and willing staff ready and waiting to translate the menu. All in all, we found the Danish people to be incredibly friendly, the city easy and interesting to navigate and the restaurants very impressive. With 100’s of cities still to be explored across the globe, this is one we’d definitely go back to.

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Keeping an eye out for sun and dog pooh in Biarritz

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When: 28/04/2012

Where: Biarritz, France

Stayed: Arima Biarritz B&B

 

Not sure if there’s anything more disappointing than a long range weather forecast for rain, rain and more rain when you’re about to embark on a coastal holiday. My inner optimist hoped for the best but it wasn’t looking good. Our worst fears were realized as we stood in line at the car rental desk and watched as sheets of rain made a joke of people’s umbrellas. I can now say with confidence that endeavouring to navigate rivers of water with wheelie bags is significantly harder than it looks…!We stayed in a bed and breakfast called Arima Biarritz – hosted by friendly locals Annie and Marc. Nicely renovated and cosy, the accommodation was welcoming. The only downside being the 20min walk into town and the terrific acoustics in the place. Unfortunately our french neighbors enjoyed late night shenanigans that even the best wax moulded ear plugs couldn’t block out. We relaxed a bit once we realized it wasn’t a cat being strangled. Ahhh when in Rome!

Our first night we wasted no time in discovering the local culture. We found our way to Bar Basque with an extremely friendly waitress who was almost a little too quick to start speaking English – is it a bad sign that she switched to English off the back of my ‘Bonsoir’…? Twenty-four tapas and umpteen glasses of red wine later we declared Bar Basque the best tapas bar we’d ever been to. Rolling out the door we were met with what felt like gail force winds and horizontal rain. Weather not for the faint hearted or cheap umbrella. Justin’s umbrella refused to play ball and became a hazard of bare spokes and unpredictable movement. Hmmm oddly it seems the £4 umbrella just wasn’t up to the task…

Biarritz sits on the Bay of Biscay in south western France. Probably the most popular view of the town is seen from Le Phare – The Lighthouse. We preferred the less touristy area to the East of the town where you could walk up a million stairs to the cliff tops and see right along the coast line to Spain. With 6km of surf beach, and 10 surf schools wi
th wet-suitclad frenchlings dashing around, it’s no great surprise that Biarritz is dubbed the historical capital of surfing in Europe.

Biarritz is known as a luxurious sea side resort. It’s clean, safe and friendly with the prices unfortunately reminding us of it’s ‘luxurious’ status and the reason for a distinct lack of riff raff. Despite it’s well-to-do reputation, the town is full of character with lovely little narrow streets and boutique shops you won’t find on any other high street. Patisseries and tapas bars dominate the scene but the real star of the show is the daily fresh food market housed under cover in the centre of town. Heaven for any self respecting foodie.

Pretty much every day we visited ‘Heaven undercover’ and stocked up on enough goodies to feed a small nation. Day 2 we packed a lunch of fresh bread, cheese, strawberries, dried fruit, ham off the hock, olives, pesto and nuts and headed down the cost to Saint Jean de Luz – another magnificent coastal town. Originally a famous fishing village, today Saint Jean de Luz is a gastronome delight, with fantastic restaurants, sheltered beaches and boutique shops. We made our way to prime position hillside with vantage points down the beach one way and out to sea the other. Despite the looming dark clouds creating a spectacular and unnerving display above us, we managed to get through our lunch and onto a cafe before the heavens completely opened. Phew!

Probably the best meal we had in Biarritz was at a restaurant we found on Trip Advisor called Che Ospi. Looking every bit the Australian tourists, we rocked up at 7.30pm for dinner only to discover the restaurant (like every other restaurant in Biarritz) doesn’t open until 8pm. So ensued a charade of trying to look busy until at least 8.30pm because even though the sign says 8pm – they really mean 9pm. The dance was well and truly worth it though with unforgettable beef and lamb dishes and a dessert that literally rocked our worlds. Divine!

Day 3 the sun came out – hallelujah! A long walk in the sun followed by breakfast beach side at Cafe Bleu was just what the holiday doctor ordered. Unfortunately what the doctor most certainly didn’t order was the steaming pile of dog pooh baking on the footpath just waiting for an unsuspecting tourist to step in. I obliged and proceeded to blaze a trail right into our B&B. I’ve always known the French love their dogs and I’m a dog person from way back – but leaving land mines all over the town = a very stressful sunday stroll!

With the offending shoes in quarantine we took a trip down to Spain for the afternoon. Switching languages was interesting for those of us not particularly adept at either French or Spanish. Fortunately the Spaniards were quite forgiving of the odd ‘merci’ that found its way into our vocab. With the elements completely unpredictable, we decided the best place to experience the town was from a tapas bar. San Sebastian has 6 michelin starred restaurants so we had high expectations for the food. Despite this, somehow we managed to order ourselves a fried meatball and duck knuckle at a dodgy looking bar. Hunger does strange things to the decision making process apparently. However, following the crowd to what looked like a dark night club from the outside turned out to be a brilliant second choice. We watched with amusement as the bar tender at Fuego Negro juggled 8 orders while pulling beers as the boisterous crowd attempted to get their orders in before the kitchen shut at 4pm. In amongst the chaos we managed to place an order – we weren’t 100% certain of what we’d ordered but hoped that it was 1. not a friend meatball and 2. not seafood. We were in luck! Fuego Negro turned out to be a very highly regarded tapas bar that was a favorite amongst locals.

The next day locals seemed to be coming out of the woodwork and mini markets with Dog roses and Lily of the valley for sale popped up on the streets – a quick google (yes we are ignorant tourists) revealed May Day celebrations. Locals partied, sang, sold what looked like the contents of their garages and ate themselves into oblivion. Not wanting to be rude we ate and drank in celebration at a number of tapas bars – just doing our bit to support the local community of course.

By the end of the week we were chocker block full of croissants and bread, slightly sunburnt (?!), feeling ill at the thought of another tapas and bearing a faint red wine haze. All good indicators of a fantastic holiday. Biarritz, we’ll be back!

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