Day trip to Florence...

During my trip to Rome, I had my sights set on going to Florence for the day – even after my Airbnb host said ‘it would be too short and too tiring’ – nothing was going to change my mind. The trains run frequent and I’d already consulted my Italian ex work buddy Emmanuele, and if he said it was easy, then I knew to trust him (thank you Emmanuele).

I know I’ve said to really soak up and uncover a city and all its charm, ‘you have to live a city’ – and that means spending more than a day somewhere, but hey, one day was better than none….and one day I will ‘live Florence’. I already knew I wasn’t going to see everything in one day, and I was intent on not rushing to see everything. And anyway, I love having a reason to return somewhere :-)

I’d already booked and paid for my ticket a few days in advance, so all I had to do was find my platform and my seat. I chose a super early 7.45am train. The tickets are cheaper if you book ahead – my return ticket was approx. 60 euros. But, if you know exactly what day you want to travel, it’s even cheaper if you book a few weeks ahead. So, that morning (1st December), I set my alarm super early and headed at 6.30am for the Termini Station in Rome. I had a 50-minute walk, hence my early start. It was a dark morning when I left my cosy home, and walked through the streets, but I was excited at the thought of making this trip. The journey isn’t too long (just under 2 hours), and the ride itself is beautiful. Passing through little towns, and Tuscan fields of trees and fog, I had to resist the urge to get off at a random stop just to take a photo. I thought of my photographer friends who would have loved to have shot with their drone here. It really was special.

I arrived into Santa Maria Novella train station on time 9.17am…and oh boy, first though was ‘it’s so much colder here!’. Luckily once you’re in Florence, its small-town feel makes it so easy to travel about from one spot to another on foot. It’s probably one of the most accessible and walkable main Italian cities.

I’d been to Florence before and writing this now, I can still remember what it was like to catch my first glimpse of Santa Maria del Fiore – it was just how I remembered it. Breathtakingly beautiful. It’s one of the most famous Cathedrals in Italy due in part to its huge dome . I had a sense of Deja-vu walking around the cathedral – I circled it twice just to get a feel for its immensity and to see ‘the gates of heaven’- and I remembered the day when mum and I stood watching a religious procession. The weather totally opposite to what I was experiencing this time around – it was sunny, hot and Mum and I were a little shocked at our rather expensive and rather huge £5 gelato! I had to dig out the photos of us on my return. It was September 2011 and I remember it like it was yesterday.

It was still early morning, and relatively free from tourists, so I headed to Giotto’s Campanile first as there was no queue. Reliving previous bell tower climbs and also the Leaning Tower of Pisa, I was prepared to work up a sweat. There are 414 steps to reach the very top; it’s unmistakably memorable, and it’s also a symbol – much like the Duomo – of Florence. From the lofty heights of the top, you’ll be rewarded by several grand panoramic views of the city, the surrounding hills and of the cathedral and Cupola of Brunelleschi itself. It really is quite beautiful.

Rather than taking a teeny rest, I decided there was no time like the present to face the next climb and I headed straight for the Cathedral Cupola…there was a little queue, and I knew if I left it any later the queue would be ten times, if not more long (I was right). After seeing the Duomo from all side and visiting inside, I wanted to see inside the dome and the view, so I booked my time slot, and dodging a rain shower I headed in. My legs were still recovering from the Campanile climb, and silly me didn’t notice the 463 steps to reach the top of the Cupola. It was too late to change my mind, and so up I went. I felt quite proud of my achievement once I’d reached the top, and wow, the view! I thought the Campanile view was a beauty, this was even more spectacular (well, I thought so). Not only do you get a remarkable view of the city from the top, but as you climb, you also get to see a different perspective of inside the Cathedral, and of the stunning and intricate frescoes. It’s something you can’t miss seeing in Florence.

Naturally, once back on the ground, I needed to refuel…on gelato, and headed for Gelateria Edoardo where news to me, I found out that Florence is the birthplace of Gelato! How an earth did I not know this? Naturally coming here felt like a good sign that I was in good hands with whatever flavours I choose…. always pistachio though ;-)

Other than the Cathedral, I had no real agenda, I just wanted to walk and enjoy Florence, and that’s exactly what I did. I soon found myself at another spot I remember so vividly…Ponte Vecchio, one of Florence’s oldest and most beloved landmarks. Literally translated as the ‘old bridge’, I love the history and Romantiscm of this bridge. While today the bridge is known for its illustrious jewellery shops, and hanging balconies, the history of this bridge is interesting (to me anyway). Beneath the glitz of gold rings, chains and watches is a bridge that’s stood the test of time. A gold necklace can be bought anywhere, but a gold necklace purchased on the Ponte Vecchio, is not just gold, it’s all in the location that make that item of gold so special. It’s an experience. I was drawn back to the bridge various times that day – I guarantee anyone visiting will be too – the light changes at different hours of the day. The Cathedral is impressive, the museums and galleries spectacular, but for me Ponte Vecchio is my favourite sport; at sun set the bridge literally bathes in gold and at night it twinkles. It’s so completely charming.

Another important spot linked to the bridge is the Vasari Corridor – and oh my, when the light hits this corridor all kinds of wonderful shadows, sun beams and magic happens. It’s a long corridor that links the Uffizi Gallery to the Pitti Palace. I had so much fun taking photos here, that I had to stop and make myself head to Piazza dell Signoria and Palazzo Vecchio – Florence’s most famous square.

Time was ticking-on, my train was due to depart at 7.33pm…and I felt like I had so much more to see. I’d only scratched the surface of this city – I was drawn by too many smartly dressed men in trilby hats to photograph too. It was making me sad that I was going to have to leave so soon…

Top tip, unlike me, if you don’t want to just walk and wander, and you do want to tick off some sights, you’re going to have to make yourself a little itinerary. Florence really does hold some of the most magnificent masterpieces in the world. There are the major museums and galleries to visit including the Uffizi home to Michelangelo’s David (plan ahead if you want to visit here. It’s the biggest and best museum, and also the hardest to get into), The Academia, Palazzo Vecchio and Palazzo Pitti, churches including Santa Croce, Giardino de Boboli (I like saying the name Boboli), a market, as well as the many streets (on either side of Ponte Vecchio bridge) and piazzas to get lost in. Not to mention all those energy refuelling pit stops to make in the cafés and restaurants. And, because it was gearing up to the festive season, everywhere had taken on that magic Christmas feel.

Sadly, I didn’t have time to visit the numerous art galleries – as you can see from above, there’s enough to keep you busy for weeks on end – as well as beautiful Renaissance churches, buildings and streets. There’s also the view at Pizzale Michelangelo. I was told the view here is a little of a hike up a hill, but it’s a great way to see a stunning view of the city without having to pay to climb the steps of the Duomo. 

Maybe next time, because Florence, I’m sure to be back x

Rome in December...

So, the end of 2017, and my final trip of the year. I’m cheating slightly and doing one trip over two months, but visiting two cities, Rome and Florence (actually, it’s three as we can’t forget The Vatican too). I never expected 2017 to be so topsy-turvy. Life isn’t always easy by no means, people can be messy, confusing and complicated and there are bound to be disappointments, but I’m super thankful that I achieved so much travelling, made many memories and had some good people around me. I learnt a great deal about myself in 2017 – maybe that’s one for another blog post - and I ended the year healthy and around my family.

So, Rome…I visited this city at the beginning of summer 2016. It was somewhere I had always dreamt of visiting; I’m surprised it took me so long to get there to be honest. I built up such a romantic image of the city in my mind, and in all honesty, I wasn’t blown away on that first visit. That bugged me, because if you’ve read my previous blogs, you’ll notice that I adore Italy. I found it way too touristy, and despite thinking I was being vigilant and careful, I had my phone stolen – not fun when you’re flying solo and rely heavily on google maps!

So, why go back? Like I say, I adore Italy, and it bothered me that I didn’t fall in love with The Eternal City. I seem to have found a love of visiting this country in winter months too – I just find it so much more magical, mysterious, intriguing and romantic. It’s also not as busy. I was also determined that I was going to take a day trip to Florence too. It’s another city Mum and I visited years ago on a coach trip. We both remember walking across the Ponte Vecchio bridge and stopping to take the obligatory photo. I knew even then, that I would have to go back one day.

Since returning home to London after my last trip to Palermo, I found myself having ‘up and down’ days. I really missed my ‘office work routine’ (which I guess after having devoted 20 years to the same company was only to be expected). I had days where everything was exciting and I was super productive, and then days where I felt alone and a little melancholic. I was usually that person giggling at an inappropriate joke and making some rude remark in an office full of people - I missed the office banter. I was going to have to adapt. I sat in my new little office-space thinking. I caught up on some writing, sent emails, did a little networking, but I needed to get away somewhere I could take photos, explore, discover new things, think with no distraction, put a few feelings ‘to bed’ so-to-speak, and write for a few days…and Rome seemed like a perfect choice.

“…it’s almost 11 o’clock when the train pulls into Trastevere railway station, and after ten minutes, the rain which was a faint drizzle not-so conveniently starts to get heavier. I look to my phone and google maps, and plod on; it’s not too far a walk. I look a little soggy when I arrive outside my Airbnb and greet Maria. Climbing the stairs my feet a little squelchy, I head down a teeny corridor and into the cutest, most adorable room. It’s a loft, and O.M.G it’s so adorable. All thoughts of how soggy and wet I look are forgotten. I want to stay here forever!” I remember this exact sequence like it’s happening to me right now and I’m actually there….

As much as I wanted to sit in my adorable little loft, warm up and dry off, it’s early. And, it’s still light outside. I’m eager and excited to explore. I hadn’t really explored much of Trastevere the last time, and I knew it was one of the prettiest and most local areas of the city. Thankfully I packed an extra pair of trainers, so at least I had dry feet!

I walked around that afternoon with a smile on my face, I had a good feeling that this trip was going to be fun. That evening I called home and spoke to my Mum. I told her all about my cosy loft with its fairy lights and bed in the ceiling. It had started raining again, so I made a cup of tea, headed up the teeny wooden step ladder to bed and listened to the rain.

The next morning, I woke up early - just before sunrise - and made my way up to Janiculum Hill. Last nights’ rain had made way for a beautiful and mystical foggy morning. It was a little eerie too, but it was early. I was all on my own except for a lonely dog walker who appeared from nowhere through the fog. Minutes’ earlier I was only thinking to myself ‘I wish someone would walk towards me, it would make a great photo’! Slightly unprepared, I think I still got a photo. I then stood and gazed out at what I imagined was a view over the city. The sun broke through the clouds and my tummy grumbled. I realised I’d not eaten since yesterday afternoon. 

Some of my favourite spots in Rome may not be the quintessentially top places to visit in the city, but they are my favourite, and I hope from reading my post you’ll see why…maybe you’ll bookmark this page and if you ever visit, you’ll discover your own favourites.

I also did my first ever Big Bus Tour and hands down, it’s a perfect way to see the city. More on that later…

So, Trastevere, is right on the River Tiber. I took a fair few walks along this river in the morning, just as life in the city was gearing up for the day. It’s one of those Italian neighbourhoods that rises with the sun and parties with the moon. Outdoor cafés and restaurants fill pathways flowing through streets of beautifully worn buildings; locals gather to share a morning espresso and a gossip; workers head off to start their day and children hurry off to school. As sunsets, the outdoor cafes are replaced by popular bars and clubs and there’s a cheerful infectious atmosphere that fills the air. It’s one of the only neighbourhoods in Rome where there’s a large mix of locals and travellers. I like it a lot. It feels friendly, it feels like I’m living with the locals, it feels safe and I’m so glad I chose to stay here. I find a cute café and order an Americano and croissant, which I greedily devour.

Another of my favourites is Piazza Navona – I love this Piazza, more so than when I visited in summer, and I loved it then too! The size of the square, life and laughter coming from the bars and restaurant that surround; shouts of buongiorno and buonsera, the Bernini fountain and just the whole vibe. And, yes, it gets touristy – extremely touristy come midday - but standing in the middle of the square and just watching life unfold in the morning is something I loved. The streets leading off from the square around the districts of Ponte and Parione are possibly – in my opinion – some of the prettiest around Rome too. Oh, and Via del Coronari is where my favourite gelateria @gelateriadelteatro is located, so naturally I gravitated to this street a fair bit. Of course, I tried other gelaterias (it would be rude not to right?), but I was summoned back to this one for its unique flavours and for the friendly people behind the counter who loved to help sway my decision when it came to taste combinations. It’s slightly hidden, and for some reason has a peaceful ambience. I always found a gathering of old Italian gentlemen sitting around the fountain smoking cigars, crying out buongiorno to well-dressed locals gliding by on vintage bicycles, or admiring a pretty girl. Essentially this street is made for strolling, peering in the windows of the art and antique stores, stopping for a caffé – or in my case a gelato - and watching the eclectic locals.

Not far from here - pretty much opposite Castel Sant’ Angelo - is where I fell in love with the harsh mid-morning light, I literally stood and had heart eyes for the light that bathed the cobbled streets casting the most amazing shadows. I stood waiting, willing for a person to walk into the light so I could capture them and their shadow. And, if they didn’t comply and walk exactly where I wanted them too, I chastised them. 

You can’t come to Rome and not see the main sights; The Colosseum, The Pantheon, The Trevi Fountain, and The Roman Forum. You must take a trip to The Vatican and see St. Peter’s Basilica and The Vatican museums (you need at least a full day here) – they’re all historic, incredibly beautiful and definitely worth seeing. But, I think it’s a good thing to get off-the-beaten-track – live the real Rome - visit some of the little neighbourhoods, and then dip into the tourist sights along the way. And, you do also have to take a walk down the Spanish Steps. I always feel like I need to pop on a wispy summer dress and sandals here and sashay down the steps waiting a tall dark handsome Italian to come and sweep me off my feet. It’s one of those places – if you ignore all the designer shops around you – that you feel like you’re stepping back to years gone by. There’s a movie like feel as well as something nostalgic, and for me it feels whimsical and romantic. The view from the top overlooking the Piazza di Spagna and the city is pretty special too – and this gets even better if you walk along Viale della Trinirà dei Monti towards Pincio Hill and Gardens. Each time I made this walk, I didn’t stop taking photos, or videos. Eventually you’re rewarded with a beautiful view over the Piazza del Popolo. And from here you can strike out further to explore Villa Borghese and Villa Medici.

The views from up here are possibly my favourite views of Rome, especially as the sun sets. I visited for my last sunset just before making my way back to the airport.

I consider myself having mastered the Italian art of the passeggiata (yup, that slow, think slow stroll through the streets). Summoned by an invisible force, it’s a tradition that’s hard to resist. I’m still working on perfecting my ‘fare la bella figura’ (make a good impression) style of Italian finesse and dressing the part, but it’s an evening ritual that I love. Watching nonnas catching up on a gossip, seeing couples on that pressure-free date, or young men catching the eye of a pretty young girl, the passeggiata fills a range of social needs, and my evening ritual very quickly became walking along Via di Ripetta, then up Via del Corso, criss-crossing over one of the quaint side streets to walk up the Spanish steps, taking in the panoramic view from above as I walked back towards Piazza del Popolo and then window shopping in the fancy high end designer shops of Via Babuino. And, all l that mileage I’d clocked up also meant, I could treat myself to a gelato and a cone of yup – roasted chestnuts! 

I’m finding it really hard not to list all my favourite streets and piazzas, but here’s a couple more aside from the above that I loved getting lost in and around the most….

Via Del Boschetto, a real treasure trove for vintage and handicraft lovers. If vintage items are your thing, you’ll be sure to find a retro leather handbag or pair of shoes.

Via Del Governo Vecchio, a gorgeous street just off Piazza Navona. I defy anybody to leave this street without having seen something that takes their fancy.

Via Urbana, a relatively short dinky cobble-stone street, but super sweet. It’s where trendy meets classic, and young meets ancient. It’s kinda antiquey and vintage, but cool and hipster at the same time. And, apart from admiring the ivy-coated buildings, you can take an exploring pitstop in one of the cool bars and cafes here. And, Rione Monti. Not exactly a street. It’s more a neighbourhood, but one that’s not as touristy as Piazza Navona or Campo de’ Fiori. It’s got old-time charm, with a side order of beauty, and a great place to grab a coffee, people-watch and take photos…my idea of bliss…

So, the question I asked myself at the end of my 5-day trip to Rome and Florence (read on for my post about my 'Day trip to Florence')…’did I fall in love on my second visit?’ and the answer ‘most definitely YES’. I lived Rome, and I love Rome (I know, so cliché, right?). I was blissfully content walking the streets with my camera for those 5 days. I was blown-away by the magical winters light. I felt safe and comfortable in the city. One of the things that keeps me so tied to Italy is how it feels so frozen in time – albeit the high street shops and designer names. Winter is absolutely beautiful, and whilst Venice is still my number one (and always will be), Rome is now coming up as my number one, minus a teeny bit. It’s a city that I know I’ll visit again and again :-)

Oh, and, I know it’s well known that Italians dress so super stylish, but oh my, the people of Rome – you are by far the most stylish of all Italians that I’ve come across. It’s a place where hardly anyone wears trainers (I love that!), where a guy can wear bright yellow cords and get away with it, where men in trench coats and trilby hats come out to play, where women look so effortlessly glamourous.

Rome Big Bus Tour

Whilst in the Rome, I experienced something I’ve never done before, and that was to take a ‘hop on, hop off’ city bus. You know the kind – double-decker, open topped buses full of people wearing ear plugs with cameras at the ready….and yes, I know I’m all about ‘getting lost’ and ‘not having a real set agenda’ on my travels, but there are times when you’ve not got a huge amount of time to spare and there are sights that you ‘must-see’ – it would be tragic if you returned home from Rome and someone asked ‘did you see The Colosseum”’ and you replied ‘no’ – I think I’d actually cry if someone told me that!

So, when I was offered the chance to hop on one of the Big Bus Tour of Rome, I thought ‘why not’…. And, it opened my eyes up to an alternative way of seeing the city from a different perspective. 

Unperturbed by the rain and a little chill in the air, I joined a handful of other Big Bus visitors and climbed up to the top deck. Heading off on the bus, listening to the commentary and passing by sights like The Colosseum, Villa Borghese, the Aventine Hill, Roman Forum, and The Vatican made me think how spectacular Rome is. Imagine you’ve been around for over 2000 years, and people still come from all over the globe to see and take your photo…it’s what happens to the Pyramids of Giza and The Great Wall of China. Rome has its fair share of modern and trendy shops, bars and cafes, but there are few cities in the world where the sense of history, world changing events, spectacles and political intrigue is so indisputable that your imagination is naturally intrigued. I stopped to take time to listen to the bus commentary – which was really interesting – and I’m not just saying that. The speaker mentioned the ‘passeggiata’ as being a Via del Corso tradition, and that made me smile.   

Here’s a few reasons why I think a Big Bus Tour is worth while…

It’s a great way to see the city in a short space of time, especially if you’re only in a city for a couple of days – plus by purchasing a 24-hour ticket, you’re saving on public transport costs and seeing the city from above ground – rather than being stuck on a public local bus or stuck underground). 

Even though I’d seen the main sights on foot, it was great to see the city from a higher vantage point. The staff on board were also friendly and helpful, offering discounts at other attractions and advice. Also, something I’d totally forgotten until I was reminded on board was that it was the last Sunday of the month, and on this day Rome offers visitors the chance to enter any museum free! Amazing right….as you can imagine, queues are ridiculously long, so ‘note to self for next time or if you’re reading this and planning a trip over the last Sunday’: remember to set an alarm and get up super early…and be prepared for the queues. But, it’s good to know and totally worth it.

As tickets are purchased on a 24 or 48-hour basis, you can choose to either do a complete loop, and then return to a place that takes your fancy, or you can just hop on and off whenever you feel like it. Also, the Big Bus offers various different routes and depending on the ticket you purchase. For example, on a 2-day ticket, you can do one route day one and another route seeing different sights on day 2. 

Navigating your way around a new city can be stressful. Not everyone is confident using the local metro/bus – or able to walk long distances – or wanting to use up valuable data with online maps or phone battery. Hopping on and off a Big Bus Tour leaves the driving to someone else while you learn a little of the history, see the sights and get to sit back and relax.

Palermo's legendary food...

I hope - from my ‘what I did in Palermo’ previous post you – you got a sense of just how much I loved this Sicilian city, and of just how much there is out there to see and enjoy. And, that’s just a small part of the island. I also hope you found it enjoyable and insightful.

Now, let’s talk food! Literally, you can pretty much take a breath in Palermo and you’ll pop on a few pounds in body weight. Food is taken VERY seriously here.

We all know that Italy is well known for its amazing food, but when it comes to food in Palermo, oh.my.gosh, wow! You can’t leave the island without trying out some of the ‘must-try’s’…here’s a few…

I mentioned ‘panica meusa’ (spleen sandwiches) in my previous post…and if spleen sandwiches don’t tickle your fancy. It didn’t mine (although that’s because I’m not a meat eater), then you do have to give the all-round crowd-pleasing arancini (‘little oranges’ in Italian) a try. This street food snack is so delicious…what’s not to like about golden, deep-fried rice balls that are crispy on the outside and all creamy on the inside, and filled with cheese, peas and sometimes minced beef, chicken or ham..or even pistachio pesto! Order two or three, with a side of tangy arrabitata sauce and you can call it a meal. And, yes, they are soooo-good.

Now if you’ve ever set foot inside an Italian bakery or been to an Italian street food fair, you’ve probably sunk your teeth into one – or maybe ten – of this iconic Sicilian pastry, Cannoli. These delicious mouthfuls of joy are at their best when freshly made. A good cannolo should have a crispy shell that crumbles as you bite into it with a light creamy ricotta filling. Hhmmm, those of you who’ve had a good Cannoli, you know right? …

It’s a known fact, I love my gelato, but wow, Sicily takes ice cream to another level with ‘La brioscia col gelato’. This gelato extravagance originated in here Sicily where the gelato is thick and creamy, and…. it’s served in a sweet brioche roll. It’s essentially an ice cream sandwich that you can have for breakfast, or a mid-morning snack, or lunch, or dinner...or anytime really!...Or, if you feel like a change from gelato…try ‘brioche col tuppo’ – literally brioche and granite. Refreshing and comforting at the same time. The combo of sweet soft unctuous bun with the legendary Sicilian sorbet will wake you up, and give you that sweet energy rush. Go for lemon sorbet if you want that real authentic Sicilian experience.

Chestnuts! Roasted and best eaten walking along the street! Yup, other than my gelato fix, I’ve grown addicted to the Italian tradition of heading to one of the chestnuts vendors for a coppo (cone) of ‘caldarroste’ (hot and roasted’ chestnuts. Maybe, it’s because I remember years ago when we were little my grandad would buy chestnuts at Christmas (none of us really liked them back then), or maybe it’s the traditional nostalgic black and white image I have in my head of a couple walking down the street dressed up in their finery stopping to buy a bag of chestnuts on a cold winters evening, or maybe it’s just that they’re warm and comforting. Whatever it is, I loved my daily (maybe even twice daily chestnut-fix). In the cooler months, every street market and on pretty much every street corner in Italy is filled with the chestnut man. You’ll see the white smoke wafting into the crisp evening air. Hot roasted chestnuts are not everybody’s cup of tea, but there’s something cosy and satisfying to me as these nuts come off the hot coals and are tossed into a rolled-up cone of newspaper for you to enjoy as you wander the streets.

Sicilians really love their street food, and ‘panella’ is the queen of Palermo’s street food. Locals buy these tasty fritters in one of the many ‘Sicilain friggitorie’ or ‘panellari’ - these can be little shops or kisosks, or nothing more than a window opening to a small kitchen with a few tables outside. These little street food spots only serve fried food; it’s simple, and yet they’ve become so popular that you’ll find them anywhere in Italy. Anyway, panella…cici (chickpea fritters) are mouthfuls of gently fried golden chickpea polenta. They’re best eaten straight away, when they’re hot and crispy, or you can try popping a handful into a sesame bus, with a squeeze of lemon. Then they become a ‘pene e pannelle (a sandwich) J…

And, once you’ve tried out ‘panella’, also give ‘rascature’ a taste test. Scicilians hate any idea of food going to waste, and ‘rascature’ is basically fritters made from the leftover remains of the ‘panella’ chickpea dough that’s gone a little too dry. Genius!

I bet if you were to walk into a cute nonna’s kitchen, you might be lucky to walk into the smell of freshly fried ‘cassatelle alla Trapanese’. Soft crescents of dough filled with sweet sheep milk, ricotta and chocolate chips! Sprinkle these mouthfuls with icing sugar, and eat when they’re still hot…the chocolate melts into the creamy ricotta...I know right (sounds delicious) and moreish…I did warn you! Sicilians love their food.

And, you’ll find that pistachios flavour pretty much everything here…from gelato and pesto to flavouring pasta dishes. Handy, because my all-time favourite flavour of gelato is pistachio.

It’s hard to stop writing about Sicily’s food – there are so many delicious things to be said about the food here – mainly because there literally are so many street food snacks, sweets and popular Sicilian dishes. The cuisine and the markets are something I will always remember about Palermo, and it’s all thanks to its history (dating back from the Arabs, Greeks to French, Spanish and Normans). I love that it is so diverse and represents a mish-mash of cultures. It’s what makes the island so different – I’m sure that the Catania side of the island is just as interesting and delicious food-wise too…so, maybe, next time :-)

Palermo in October...

Whenever I think of Sicily, I can’t help but conjure up images of mysterious figures lurking down dark alleyways – I think that comes from me reading one too many Italian crime novels!

It took me a few good years to make it down to Italy’s boot. Mum and I did a tour of Calabria some years back, and we popped over to Catania in Sicily for the day. It’s funny how some memories are so vivid, as I can remember what book I was reading at the time of that trip…’A death in Calabria’ by the writer Michele Ferrara. I can even remember the summer dress I was wearing on that hot and sticky day…it was blue and white stripes. I have a photo of me sitting at the fountain in Taormina Square, and just as a gust of wind blew my dress up, Mum pressed the shutter....ha, happy times.

So, it was time I ventured back ‘on-my-own’ to get lost in the streets with my camera. I was also well prepared with some top tips from a work colleague and Sicilian, Emmanuele. The timing of this trip was a birthday trip for myself too, although it turned out to be more of a ‘soul-searching’ trip. Life threw up a huge curveball for me at the beginning of October. And, without dwelling on it too much, it was a sad time for the travel industry. Monarch Airlines – where I’d worked for 20 years collapsed – and so I was left feeling a little all over the place.

In some way’s I’d been waiting for this day for months, I’d been toying with the idea of leaving my job – but I knew I wouldn’t make that leap without a gentle nudge. So why was I so heartbroken? I should have been happy, right? Well, I loved the people I worked with – we were like a little family, and I don’t think I fully appreciated those people until they were no longer around me. I had a sense of purpose and place. I had a routine. I knew what I was doing and everyone around me knew me and what I was capable of. Don’t get me wrong, I got so frustrated with the place at times, I swore I was going to leave more than once. I’d been angry to the point of tears many times, but that’s part and parcel of working for a larger organisation = office politics. But, I was 19 years old when I joined Monarch (back then Cosmos). I’d practically done my adult growing up there. All my hard work was going to end in a rubbish dump somewhere. That thought saddened me.

So, my Sicily trip was a perfect distraction from the fact that I was now redundant from my job. I wouldn’t get to work with the people I’d said goodbye and wished ‘happy weekend’ to on the previous Friday night. It was a time to reflect, do some soul searching, and ask myself ‘what do I want to do next?’…I knew in my heart what I wanted to do, but my heart was kinda heavy – ok, SO no one died, not really – just a name – but it was still a complete shock. And, it didn’t end on ‘my’ terms. I’m a big believer in ‘things happen for a reason’, and I was starting to realise this ‘hiccup’ was a blessing in disguise. I could do something for ‘me’ now, and focus all my energy on the things I love and those that I’m passionate about.

I now had an empty blank canvas ahead of me; a whole new chapter…

…Anyway, enough about that… let’s talk Sicily!

I realise as I’m reliving and writing about this trip, I’ve already waffled on - a fair bit - before actually even making a start on talking about Palermo! And so, I’ve decided to structure this post by breaking it into two posts. One; so that it’s not ridiculously long, and you get the most out of it (hopefully, it’s inspiring too). And, two; I get to relive, and write down what made it this trip so special.

I’ve decided to share ‘what I did’ on this trip, followed by a little snapshot of ‘Palermo’s legendary food’.

I arrived at Palermo airport, and the best tip I’d received was how to get into the city, and that’s by getting into one of the ‘sharing taxis’. I wish every airport had this little system going. Basically you ‘share a taxi’ with around four others (or as many people that can get into the vehicle). It’s around seven euros, and the taxi will stop on one of the main squares or main roads. Easy right, and cost effective too :-)

My Airbnb couldn’t have been better placed. I always try to get a location that’s central – mainly so I can be out exploring from super early morning until late at night – although more often than not, I tend to tire myself out from getting up at sunrise and I’m usually in bed by 9pm drinking a cup of tea! Anyway, my cosy home was right in the centre of the old city, and perfectly located between the markets - something I was very happy about. I love a good local market and it meant, I could get up early and observe market life as it sprang into action. I’d heard Palermo’s markets were some of the best, and OMG ‘insert heart eyes’ I wasn’t disappointed.

Today’s Palermo disproved any lingering Mafia images. I’d read that Palermo’s streets were intense with purse snatchers; that it was chaotic and run down, and ok, some of the buildings can be a little rough around the edges, but that’s what makes everywhere so alluring, so mysterious and so incredibly charming, but as for the chaos and purse snatchers, nah, I didn’t find that at all. The city is colourful, yet traditional. It feels perfectly safe. It’s youthful and trendy, and the Sicilians are some of the warmest and friendliest. The city makes it easy to become a temporary Sicilian and that’s reason enough to visit. You don’t tour Palermo, you live in it, and that’s exactly what I did. The way of life offers any visitor more than any monument or museum ever could. 

First stop…the markets. There are three of them; Mercato di Ballarò, Mercato de Capo and Mercato della Vucciria – all within walking distance from each other. And, hands-down THE best fruit, vegetable and street food markets I’ve been to so far on my European travels. The warmth and buzz of each market – each with their own character – will give you smile wrinkles. And, yes, you’ll want to eat a lot at each market!

I adopted a little routine of walking to Mercato di Ballarò early every morning – it was the closest market to where I was staying. I tiptoed through the vendors as they set-up shop for the day. Men shouted out ‘ciao’, a wrinkled woman filled her crumbly window frame with a toothy grin, fishmongers’ feet peeped out from behind their tables and crates filled with silvery sparkly sardines, a tubby man stood on a fruit crate peeling an orange, the juice dribbling through his fingers, it was a perfect start to my mornings…and then I made my way to Mercato de Capo, this was my favourite market. It’s larger in life, and attracts a huge crowd. Lots of merchants, housewives and elderly folk hustle and bustle about this market shouting out to each other, young guys speed past on mopeds, laughing, gossiping and buying goods every day. People head through the streets on their way to work or school, or on their way home. A contagious energy fills the air from early morning until the evening. Standing in the mix of all this hustle and bustle filling my tummy with a pistachio cream infused croissant in the morning or waiting for the chestnut man to fire up the coals for a cone of hot roasted chestnuts (these became my Sicilian addiction) fills me with such happiness. 

I loved watching the scenes play out in front of me; two men having playful banter with each other, an elderly vendor ensures his display of aubergines is just-right – no aubergine or artichoke is out of place, a little boy wanders curiously and cheekily looking at the assortment of fish, a housewife ponders whether to buy a cauliflower or broccoli, a group of men gather at the panica meusa stall. This traditional Sicilian sandwich containing – brace yourself – chopped veal’s lung and spleen seemed extremely popular with the workers and locals. Translated ‘panica meusa’ literally means ‘bread with spleen’.

On one of my afternoons, I made my way through Mercato de Capo as I’d proudly found a short cut from the station. I decided to stop and watch the activity from a different vantage spot. I’d been buying my roasted chestnuts from a vendor further on in the market, but another guy caught my eye. Maybe it was his jolly charisma. Maybe it was his passion. It showed that he took care and loved what he was doing. Maybe it was because there’s nothing like a good chestnut perfectly roasted with salt, and piping hot ready to peel and pop into your mouth. I guess he could tell I’d taken a particular liking to his chestnuts, because he gave me extra once I’d finished my cone. He then shouted out to his wife, who popped out from the apartment above him. I had no idea what he was saying to me, but I worked out that he had a ‘piccolo bambino’ and she too popped her head out on the balcony and waved her chubby little hand at me. Bless…I love little moments like this.

The best thing about Palermo’s markets is that they never sleep. I felt that La Vucciria was a slightly more touristy market selling souvenirs and clothes, although at night it’s where all the trendy and young hang out, and that’s when I felt its real atmosphere. ‘Vucciria’ translated means ‘chaos’ in Sicilian. Stalls sell freshly grilled and fried fish on paper plates take stage, smoke billows into the crisp evening air, and it’s where the young gather to snack on street food, drink beer, wine and generally chat the night away. It’s got a similar vibe to London’s Shoreditch with street graffiti and bars pumping out chilled out music.

Visit a vertical neighbourhood in the city and you’ll find small apartments stacked high above the streets. Faded rainbow laundry hangs out to dry; the balconies are a true Sicilian curiosity, covered with tarpaulin to keep in the heat, planted with trees or sculptured in an extravagant baroque way; elderly men sitting outside their front doorsteps watching the world go by. Craning my head upwards I wander the streets looking for pockets of light and taking photos of anything that catches my eye. The mix of cultures in Palermo is fascinating. You’ve a medley of architectural styles, a unique array of traditions and a colourful variety of cuisine. Sicily has a rich history. Its ancestry goes back to having been invaded by the Greeks, Romans, French, Swabians, Arabs, Spanish to name just a few, and each dynasty left its own unique stamp on Palermo. If you look closely at some of the architectural gems in the city, you see influences of this and that’s what I loved. It’s so different. If you find yourself in the city, take a close look at Palermo Cathedral. It’s just one example of a building that’s undergone many changes. You’ll see many different religious styles. I loved taking an evening stroll to the cathedral just as sun was setting.

Views over the city saw me climbing up Chiesa di Santa Caterina. It’s easy to overlook this church from the outside as it’s fairly unassuming. But, the outside entrance belies the stunning Sicilian Baroque beauty on the inside, and the 360 degrees view from the top kept me snapping photos for at least half an hour or more. Another view that left me with heart shaped eyes was the view towards the red roofs of San Cataldo. You’ve got to snap a photo of what I would say was a quintessentially Palermo view...oh and Palazzo dei Normanni. One of the main highlights is the Palatine Chapel, situated on the ground floor.

You can’t come to anywhere in Italy and not partake in my favourite tradition, the ‘passeggiata’, a slow walk before supper (or after) …or both. It’s where people of all ages stroll through the streets. You’ll see couples arm-in-arm, people chatting and laughing and children playfully running around carefree and happy. It’s not only a time to see and be seen, it’s a chance to meet up with maybe a business partner, or friends to linger over coffee, gelato or an aperitivo. A great people-watching spot is the area around Teatro Massimo. You might remember it from the final scenes of the Godfather…or you might know it for being the third largest opera house in Europe.
Whatever your level of knowledge or interest, the beauty of this place is quite magnificent. You can take a tour, or watch an opera or ballet. There’s also plenty of gelato stops and bars surrounding the theatre too :-)

What else did I do…

…Well, I took a train trip to seaside town Cefalù for the day (it’s not far at all) which was fun and tested my navigation and alertness skills. Trains run frequently (although make sure you do check you’re on the right train). It’s not unusual for trains to run late, or for there to be a last-minute platform change (which I found out!). I met a really lovely couple (Surinder and Daniel) who were also on holiday. They were adorable and we chatted about life, careers and future passions. I hope the two of them might read this blog one day, and if they do they’ve decided to pursue their architect passion of venturing into the world of freelance too x

Cefalù is different to Palermo; it’s a small town right by the sea, it’s less busy (although I can imagine during the summer it gets very touristy); it’s also less gritty than the city with pretty little cobbled streets, cosy trattorias and souvenir shops. The town doesn’t offer a huge amount in sightseeing. I’d say the Duomo is perhaps the main place of interest here. My favourite spot though was the area around the Duomo; the main square (which felt more Arabic with its palms, exotic trees and soaring mountain backdrop). It’s where the local atmosphere was alive in the Italian cafés. I watched an elderly couple trying to squeeze their rusty red fiat 500 into a parking space, I listened to an animated couple of gentlemen speak with their hands; so-Italian. I was hoping to take the two-hour walk to the top of the town as I’d heard the view was pretty spectacular, but the path was closed for filming. Oh well, maybe next time.

And, I hopped on a bus to Monréale...once I’d found the right bus stop! I stopped to ask an elderly gent which direction I should head in for Monréale, and he opted for the wrong direction, bless him. Luckily sense of direction (and Google maps) made me stop and I cross the road. I hadn’t planned on visiting this town, but my Airbnb host said it was his favourite place and the cathedral was out of this world, so I thought why not…Monréale is set in a rather striking hilltop location, and yes, it really does have one of the most stunning Cathedral’s. I was in awe of the golden mosaics which cover its entire walls, and ceiling. It’s staggering to imagine the level of skill required and even more so to think the work was carried out over 900 years ago. And, as you climb to the highest point in the Cathedral, you’re rewarded with a sweeping panorama of the Conca d’oro, the Golden Valley.

Finally, on my last day, I decided to take another bus ride. This time to Mondello. I can imagine this seaside town gets busy in the hot summer months. But on this particular day in October, it was just the right amount of people and the heat perfect. The vibe was friendly and relaxed, it still felt like a local town with fishermen sitting by the waters’ edge casting their nets out into the sea, people head for the sea to swim and play ball games, the sand calls out for sunbathers, and the gelaterias are too tempting not to pop in to. I liked it immediately, I was happy just to sit and gaze, and enjoy the sunshine. I stopped to watch a fisherman descale and weigh fish. He was attracting a little crowd of passers-by all intrigued to watch. One of the men was a local Sicilian, but he was speaking English to a Swedish couple. He was telling them how he would go about cooking the fish that the fisherman was so enthusiastically degutting; how his little girl wasn’t a big fan; how the fish in the region was so delicious, fresh and tasty; how every little piece of the fish could be used in some way or other. In the end, he offered to go halves with this Swedish couple on this huge fish that was being prepared. The whole time I just stood there taking photos and listening. None of them realising I was English until I said ‘I hope you enjoy eating that fish tonight, it sounds like it will be delicious’. They all just looked at me, a little puzzled. They all thought I was Italian, so we all laughed and the Sicilian said he hoped his English was up to my standard. I had to tell him, it was more than up to standard, it was pretty much perfect! I then decided that a fish lunch in Mondello was a must. I picked my restaurant based on how local and rustic it looked and whether it had a sea view and ordered sea food risotto :-)

I was a little sad that my time in Palermo was ending, I felt so at ease in this city. I’ll never forget my time here and all the thinking and not thinking that I did (if that makes sense). The ‘thinking part’ was deciding it was now or never to take the leap and pursue what I love (writing and photography as a freelancer). The ‘non-thinking’ was, I was enjoying my morning croissant with the locals and my market people-watch, I was getting into a routine of it reaching the afternoon and thinking ‘ooo, it’s roasted chestnut time’. No one was telling me what to do, I could do exactly what I wanted to do. I loved that freedom of being somewhere new, it was exciting to wake up with no concrete plans of what I was going to do; or see; or who I may or may not talk to. Palermo was as authentic as they come. It felt like Italy, but the atmosphere of the city felt like some remote and exotic version of the Italy I knew. There are places that I’ve visited that I love, but know I’ll never return to, but Palermo is one of those places I know I’ll get back to one day – maybe after I’ve ventured back over to the other side of the island ;-)

Fez in September...

It was late by the time we reached Fez, and saying goodbye to Taha was quite sad. He’d been a superstar driver and sunset buddy throughout our two days. We did offer him a bed to crash at in our Fez Airbnb, but he refused; he probably wanted the comfort of his own bed after driving so many miles with us. That eight-hour round trip (and on two consecutive days) wasn’t something I would have fancied undertaking, so we have to thank him for the laughter, entertainment, tips, chat and for our safety too.

We were led off into the labyrinth of the medina by our next Airbnb host. I remember thinking ‘oh-my-goodness, we are SO going to get lost here!’. It felt a lot more compact than the medina of Marrakech, and definitely a lot more intense than the calm of Chefchaouen. Arriving in the dark, late at night was a little overwhelming - and maybe not the best time to arrive into a city that’s easy to get lost in - especially when there so many dark hidden alleyways and streets. If you do happen to arrive at night, I would advise you enlist the help of a guide, your hotel or Airbnb host or just ensuring you’ve someone to meet you – especially if you are travelling solo.

Anyway, home for the next couple of nights was amazing. Each of us had a floor to ourselves with our own separate bathroom, and most important of all – a rooftop! I opted for the ground floor bedroom, and with that we went to bed, tired, excited, overloaded with thoughts and more excitement for the next two days.

Whenever I’m away visiting a new place, I’m always up super early – mainly through bubbling excitement and my eagerness to get out explore and take photos, and so the next morning – before the call to prayer – and whilst we waited for breakfast to be made for us, I was up and heading up to check out our rooftop view. It wasn’t long before the guys joined me too, and, we were not disappointed. Looking out onto the houses below us and into the distance where we caught glimpses of minarets, clothes lines and satellite dishes feels silent and peaceful. The maze of streets is shielded by rooftops and mosque towers. You would never know that there’s a maze of hustle, bustle, daily life and around 12,000 alleyways just waiting to be discovered. And, how’s this for a fact, apparently only 30 streets here have names! Crazy, huh! With tummies full of more delicious Moroccan bread, pancakes and all sorts of breakfast treats cooked up by our friendly housekeeper, it was now time to really get lost.

We thought Marrakech was a labyrinth of streets and alleyways all leading into one and another, but oh my, Fez is on another level. It’s totally different to Marrakech. I found it quite compact and for some strange reason, the walls of the city reminded me of being in Italy. I just kept thinking ‘how are we going to get into the heart of this city in only two days?’. My grin from Chefchaouen is making a come-back, and I’m already starting to love this place. The tightly knitted alleyways and streets have you turning around and lost within seconds. Unlike Marrakech, Fez doesn’t really have any real standout landmarks, so we memorise shops, restaurants and the nearest minaret. We amble past donkeys standing patiently, and cats sniffing for scraps of food. We make friends with a jolly chap who emerges cloaked in a white jelleba, we’re intrigued by daily life going on around us, women carry baskets of fresh mint, men sit and sip mint tea; we’re entertained and kept amused…and all the time we take photos.

It was interesting that back in Fez the language (other than Arabic) returned to French, so it was back to shouting out our friendly ‘bonjour’s’ – something that made me happy. I really wish I spoke a little Arabic or at least more French. I mean, English is totally usable, but I wanted to communicate with the old men sitting outside their shops passing the time of day. I wanted to know their story, I wanted to find out what life in the medina was like, did they know every street and alleyway? 

We find ourselves walking past the most beautiful mosque, it was stunning. We couldn’t enter because we’re not Muslim, but we marvelled from the outside. And just like in Marrakech we headed to the university, or Madrassa as it’s known locally. We pretty much had the courtyard to ourselves. Tourist numbers in Fez do not rival those that head to Marrakech, and that’s what makes the city feel so much more authentic. You can breathe without having a huge crowd of tourists surrounding you, and therefore locals are more chilled and not chasing you to buy something from them.

Nipon and Andrew decided they really wanted a beer to take up onto our rooftop for our nightly ritual of chats and star-gazing, so just as sun was setting we hailed – with a little help and the parting of a few dirham - a taxi (sheesh, remembering that taxi scrabble was intense. It was a crazy free-for-all, everybody literally pounces on the first taxi to stop, and they all pretty much bundle in shouting at the driver!)..
Old Fez gave way to New Fez, and you start to see modern buildings and luxury shops; hotels and proper streets with pavements; and a mall with supermarket complete with a separate alcohol section. This made Andrew and Nipon happy. We picked up some groceries and bread, and that evening we had our own little buffet, followed by star gazing on the rooftop…simple pleasures.

The next morning Nipon and I decided to set ourselves a pre-breakfast challenge. From our rooftop, we could see a building in the distance. It didn’t look too far away and it stood out quite distinctly – or so we thought. The challenge was ‘to try and find that building’. Andrew opted for a lie in bed, and so off we went…an hour later we were still walking…could we find that building…. erm, no ha ha, still, it was fun trying..

Other than visiting a leather tannery, we didn’t really have a plan of places to visit whilst we were in the city. And, rather than be tricked into going off with some of the tannery touts that were calling out to us on the streets, we decided it might be easier to do a tour of the city with a tannery included. I have to say our guide wasn’t the most endearing guy, and it was kinda hard work chatting to him – which was so unlike everyone else we’d encountered – but he took us to where we wanted to go. We’d read to be prepared for the smell that would assail us at the tannery. It’s a smell made of a made up of a mixture of ingredients to cure and tan the hides. It’s pretty much cow urine, pigeon poo, quicklime and salt water, but honestly none of us found the smell that offensive. We watched a couple of oriental girls shield their faces with bunches of mint, but to us it wasn’t too bad. Gazing down below us, the pools of red, gold and white dye create a quite a remarkable sight. There are men who tightrope across the circular pools carrying bundles of animal skins, and those that strike the hides with their hands and feet, you can see this is a hard job. To get to this vantage point you have to go through one of the leather shops with all sorts of leather items in varying hides and in all manner of colours using natural ingredients such as pomegranate and turmeric…and a thousand sales men (which is all part of the experience!)

Our guide then led us through the streets, it was interesting to wander through such a real-life market – I don’t think I would ever tire of walking around Fez’s streets, there’s something different going on, on every street, on every corner. There’s a constant display of life. Chicken strut brazenly in cages, absolutely unaware to their fate on the chopping block…cats sashay everywhere greedily gobbling up morsels of scrappy meat which have fallen to the floor, carcasses of animals hang outside shops, the smell of mint and spices hangs in the air, children in their school coats playfully run in and out of people shopping.

We didn’t feel that hungry, but we wanted to sit and get a panoramic view of the city, and so we headed for a restaurant just outside the medina. And, as we walked through the plush interior of the Palais de Fez, I was thinking hhmmmmm this place looks pricey…but no, not at all. Morocco as a whole is cheap to be in, you can feast like a King or Queen here. The decor is enchanting and romantic, all dim lights and pretty cushions. We headed up to the highest terrace, and a table with the best view. Not only was the view a feast for the eyes, the food delivered was the best I’ve eaten in Morocco. Despite not feeling that hungry, we were served little plates of the most delicious salads. Just thinking about the caramelised aubergine with walnuts sprinkled on top, the sweetest tasting carrots, beetroot, tomato and cabbage makes my mouth salivate. We filled up on these tasty mouthfuls of what I’m going to describe as ‘joy’…and then the best couscous (verging-on-legendary) appeared, and oh-my-gosh was it GOOD. Sitting outside with a view of the city, the sun shining down on us was such a happy feeling. I could have eaten every little grain of couscous had my tummy allowed, but we were so full up, and so we asked to take a doggy bag home with us – it really was that good. Come here and you will be one happy traveller! From here we could see the building from the pre-breakfast challenge. None of us are easily defeated, and so we decided to set about and hunt for it again. We blagged our way into several places to get to the roof for a better look, but the building still availed us. It was a fun little mission even if we didn’t succeed…and maybe next time we’ll have better luck!

None of us wanted to go home, I think we’d all fallen head over heels for this city and for Chef, and so that evening we decided to sit at one of the cafés and people watch for a couple of hours all with the accompaniment of mint tea. And, we were kept thoroughly entertained by the locals all trying to get taxis – it was amazing. We were mesmerized by the art of standing in the right place. Literally as soon as a taxi came along everyone rushed for it and bundled into it…only to get out a few seconds later because the driver wasn’t going in their direction, or because he would only take on person – not two. I can only describe it like watching a TV show. There’s a fine knack to nabbing a taxi in Fez, that’s for sure! Maybe next time we’ll give it another go…because Morocco, I and my travel companions are already working out how and when we’re going to get back :-) 

Chefchaouen in September...

After my trip to Marrakech with my Moroccan travel buddies Andrew and Nipon earlier this year, and our over enthusiasm in trying to get to the Blue Pearl – all in one trip, Chef was still on our minds – and that’s even before we left Marrakech airport. In fact, we were probably already planning our return whilst we were on the flight home!

Why Chefchaouen?...well, other than the fact that I want to go everywhere, I sometimes see photos of a place that make me feel inspired, and I want to go see it for myself. Sometimes it’s purely from talking to people, and sometimes I get a place in my head from books I’ve read. I remember the first time I’d heard about this blue city, and from that day on I knew one day I would eventually get there.

Getting to Chefchaouen seemed like it was going to be little mission. We’d already discovered that from our grand plan to visit from Marrakech. There’s no easy or fast way of getting to the city, and there are a few options of where you could fly into…. we looked at flying into Tangier, Fez and even flying to Gibraltar and getting the ferry across. But, we settled on Fez because we all decided that the city looked interesting to capture with our cameras. It has the largest Medina in Morocco, and we thought Marrakech was large and maze like…this felt like it could be a challenge. Our plan was: Fly into Fez – head straight to Chefchaouen for the night – and then head straight back to Fez after sunset We were hoping to add on another day, but flights-wise, we were kinda restricted, so it was going to be a short and sweet trip. We also were hoping to squeeze in a trip into the desert, and thinking about it, I’m glad that didn’t work out, as I think that would have struggled to see everything. I already thought our time was stretched, as I like to take my time, wander and get a feel for my surroundings. I wanted to experience as much as I could in these two cities, and not waste a single moment.

Once again, Nipon was placed in charge of sorting out our Airbnb, and he didn’t disappoint. Casa La Hiba was perfect. It was once a family home, belonging to the grandmother of our host Mourad, who was such a lovely amiable guy. He even promised us a driver who would pick us up from Fez airport. It’s over a four-hour drive, so that’s a fair bit of intense driving in the heat. And, our driver Taha was the best! He greeted us with the biggest smile which rarely left his face, and proceeded to lead us towards a BMW. The three of us spotted this nodded a knowing look of approval, like we’d struck gold…and then he continued walking to a rather more modest dusty vehicle, which we found rather amusing.

Anyway, Taha was possibly the best driver. He never looked fed up or cross throughout the drive, and it was hot and sticky that day. He took a shine to our banter, jokes and incessant excitable babble, and gives us lots of little facts throughout our journey. Quickly earning our trust, we filled him up with our car snacks and words of English which he seems to enjoy. Turns out Taha is best mates with Mourad, and we joked with him that the two of them seemed like an old married couple, always on the phone to each other. Some of our funniest moments were our car banter. My favourite has to be Taha’s excitement and enthusiasm at pointing out the mountain that apparently resembles a ‘frog jumping’. Nipon and I for the life of us couldn’t see this ‘frog’ what-so-ever, let alone imagine ‘a frog jumping, Andrew seemed to have more of an imagination that us, and the more we couldn’t see the ‘frog’ the more excited Taha became. I really tried ‘using more of my imagination’ like I was repeatedly told to, but nope...I still couldn’t conjure up a ‘frog jumping’. Bless Taha.

Our car ride took us through modern buildings and construction – which is pretty usual, but in between you’ll see glimpses of local life. Sheep in fields, groups of men lazing about in fields or on street pavement talking. Cafés full to bursting with men just sitting in groups or on their own simply just watching the world go by. I love these snippets of daily life. I find them fascinating and so culturally different considering Morocco is just over a couple hours away from the UK.

I’m going to try my hardest not to get carried away about each and every moment of this trip. Although, that’s going to be a hard one to contain. I’d romanticised about Chefchaouen since arriving back from Marrakech. And, our drive, even though it was long, and hot added to the adventure. At the same time, all I wanted to do was to dump my luggage and get out and explore. I wanted to see whether the ‘Blue Pearl’ really lived up to its name.

I couldn’t wait to catch my first sight of the city. The approach to Chefchaouen had us excited, and a little anxious. As we wound our way over the hills listening to Taha telling us about his life, we were a little hesitant with our first views as we saw lots of white, and only a little blue. Assured by Taha that the city ‘is very blue’, we continued driving. Like many places in Morocco, the oldest parts of the city are within the city walls, and just like Marrakech, Chefchaouen has an old town and a new one. It’s not until you walk through one of the gates, and start to discover the city on foot that you see how beautifully blue it really is. And yes, it’s very blue. It’s total sensory overload and it’s like walking into a fairy tale. Everyone seems happy too, it’s definitely a feel-good place.

The sun had just dipped behind the mountains when we arrived into the city, and feeling a little weary from all the days’ travelling, that evening we headed to a rooftop restaurant where we stuffed ourselves on tasty salads of aubergine, tomato, and the most delicious local cheese which was oh-so good. And, then we called it a night, excited for the next day.

And, what a wake up! The first call to prayer echoing across the blue and white rooftops of the city was one of my personal highlights. It brought back the same feelings we had in Marrakech. I laid in bed thinking how incredibly beautiful it sounded, and in that moment, I felt indescribably happy. I was with two friends, and we were going to have a fun day.

The sun was shining and we enjoyed breakfast on our rooftop – as well as a hunt for the resident rooftop tortoise. I think I could live on Moroccan breakfasts! The bread is so-so delicious, and the pancakes drizzled with honey is better than what you get at home. After breakfast, Mourad told us that if we wanted to get a good view of the city we should take the steps up the hill ‘there’s not many’, he said…I think Mourad underestimated our fitness. The three of us were left short of breath clambering up a steep hillside and coming face to face with a pack of dogs. The view was a pretty one though, so we didn’t mind.

As this was our only day in the city, we knew we had to make the most of every little street and every little moment. We walked Chaouen’s (yep, that’s what the locals call it) medina from top to bottom, came across so many friendly people, shouted out ‘hola ’ to countless others. I found it interesting that the locals speak Spanish here - not so much French - but that’s because the city is so far North, and there’s a huge Spanish influence from when Jewish inhabitants from Spain fled to Morocco during the Reconquista of Spain. We stopped to ‘ooo’ over the cutest cats, got offered hashish, watched children playfully run through the streets with happy smiles, and yes, we got lost in a sea of blue. And, it’s no exaggeration to say that every alleyway and street is majestic. You’ll find that feeling in awe of your surroundings is an impossibility and it’s near on impossible to take a bad photo. Part of the charm lies in the quaint medina. It’s not large, but it’s full of vendors selling something or other. From antiques to woken blankets, leather slippers to brass teapots. And, the old town is super easy to navigate. It’s car free, and really chilled, and totally different compared to the chaos, humidity and stress of other Moroccan towns. Chaouen offers up a more relaxed pace, it’s a feast for the eyes and soul, has fresh mountain air, and the purest spring water.

We found ourselves a lovely restaurant where we naturally headed up to the rooftop and refuelled our bellies with tagines - Morocco at its most Moroccan! At that given moment, I think we all wished we were staying for another night – the thought of changing our itinerary did cross our minds, we even checked with Mourad to see if we could stay an extra night….however, Taha was waiting for us. He was taking us up to the Spanish Mosque to watch sunset. We thought he was just going to drop us off and let us make our own way up the hillside, but bless him, he wanted to come with us, and so we all took the short hike. From here, you can look out over the mountains and town. It was a blissful moment of a wonderful day…. And, then the four-hour drive to Fez….

Stockholm in August…

‘Hei’ Sweden, and ‘Hei’ Stockholm. I fell in love with the adorable way the Swedes all go around saying ‘hei hei’ all the time - I think I annoyed my work colleagues by adopting this cute way of greeting each other on my return :-D.

So, this was my first taste of Sweden, and oh how I loved it. I guess Stockholm was always one of those places I knew I’d eventually get around to visiting, but now I’ve seen it first hand, it’s made me want to explore so much more of Scandinavia. 

You hear ‘Stockholm’ and you might think ‘cold’ and ‘expensive’, and ok you’re not entirely wrong. The city can be chilly even in September and yup, it’s known to get even colder come Winter (it’s Sweden after all), and yes, it’s not the cheapest city in the world. And, while Sweden’s currency, the Krona does tend to make things expensive, many of your day-to-day purchases are not that much more expensive than other European cities. I compared my spending to that in London, and I didn’t think it was a terrible difference. As long as you know this about the city, you can budget accordingly, and hey, you don’t have to eat out every day. Where the city does get expensive though is the shopping. Because, trust me, you’re going to find it hard not to want to buy everything! I learnt on my early days of travelling on holiday that I’d buy things on holiday that when I got home I’d rarely or never wear or look at again, so it’s rare – unless I find something that’s unique and I love – that I go shopping. But, Stockholm...clothes, accessories, beautiful notebooks, pretty much everything made me want to shop! Let’s say I was tempted and very close to purchasing a raincoat! I stopped short when the sun came out and I thought about having to wear two coats back to London!

When you look at some of the shops founded by the Swedish I guess it’s no surprise that the Swedes are at the forefront of fashion and modern design. Some of the best retail brands are born out of Sweden, and it’s not just fashion the city embraces, there’s its food and even its music. 

I’d heard how trendy Stockholm was and not until I arrived did I see this for myself. It’s not just trendy, it’s just ‘so cool’. Everything and everyone. From the minute, I stepped onto the cool clean Arlanda Express train, I thought ‘oh boy, this is soooo nice’. In fact, it’s one of the coolest cities I’ve been to thus far. The Arlanda Express was super quick too – just 20 minutes and I was in the city. I decided to walk to my Airbnb which was about 40 minutes away, and what I felt in those first 40 minutes was how clean the air felt. I felt this sense of freedom, of something comforting and I felt happy. I’ve been to some cities before and my first impression has been ‘hummm, this city feels a little sad’, but that’s not so with Stockholm. It’s got a friendly, happy vibe, and OMG my Airbnb was just the cutest cosiest place I’ve ever stayed in. 

Before I start to tell you about my favourite places, I also need to add a little something about the people. Other than harping on about how cool and beautiful I think the city is, it’s not just the sights, streets and architecture, the people of Stockholm have got to be THE most attractive looking bunch too. You’d seriously be hard-pressed to find an area lacking in someone who didn’t catch your eye and make you do a double-take. In other words, there is plenty of eye-candy ;-)

So, what did I do in the city?

I walked a lot (that’s pretty normal for me, right?!)
I started off exploring Gramla Stan, the ‘old city’, and the most touristic. It gets busy during the day, so I liked early morning best. It’s also picturesque if Medieval cobblestones and architecture are your thing. You’ve a fair few sightseeing spots to tick off your list here too including the Royal Palace and Nobel Museum. 

And, yes, I was taken in by the hipster vibes on Söldermalm Island, otherwise known as SOFO. An aimless wander here will lead you to discover plenty of fashion boutiques, vintage stores, barbershops, great restaurants. Guaranteed, you’ll find it difficult not to pop into a café that also sells clothes. You’ll find vintage clothing stores with in-house barbers, and even hotels that sell furniture. I love my tea stops and the beauty of Stockholm is that there’s a tea and coffee shop on pretty much every street. Speaking of which, there’s a word you’ll need to familiarise yourself with. ‘Fika’, is the word for the Swedish tradition of drinking coffee, tea or juice with something sweet. Swedes take their ‘Fika’ very seriously, and take it multiple times a day. Sometimes it’s taken quickly, but most times it’s taken more leisurely. I reckon, I could fit right in with this tradition.

The area around Nytorget Park has a great vibe for people-watching, and during the weekend evenings (and I’m guessing throughout the summer evenings too), it’s where all the young people hang out; drinking, socialising, watching live music.

I’d read about a few cool places eat online, and The Urban Deli was one. Clearly hipster, the restaurant has a sidewalk café and a trendy bar. Breakfast here was tasty too. Here, you’re offered up the chance to make your own sandwich ‘the way you want it’ accompanied by juice, yoghurt and granola, pastries or you can dig into the breakfast buffet). There’s a delicatessen too, so if you can’t face being surrounded by other peoples’ chit-chat, you can load up your bag with goodies and enjoy them back home…although, for the best brunch, my friend Allan (@Chaiwalla) recommended I try out his sister’s café @greasyspooncafe. And, OMG I wish I’d stopped by on my first morning, because it was super cute and super tasty! Thumbs up for the doorstop thick delicious toast with poached eggs, smoked salmon and mushrooms. It was the perfect start for a day of walking and exploring. They even serve up cheeky Bloody Mary’s and the melodies pouring out of the vintage jukebox are not bad too. Hands down, I absolutely recommend you try this place out. I didn’t think my breakfast was too pricey either. It was the same price I’d expect to pay in someone like ‘The Breakfast Club’ or ‘Bills’ in the UK.

I follow some crazy talented individuals on Instagram. I still have moments when I get giddy with excitement when I’ve followed someone for so long, I love their work and they follow me back! Anyway, whilst I was in Stockholm I was honoured that Calle (@locarl) said he would meet me and show me about.  I absolutely love Calle’s work, and the two of us had a lovely time walking around the streets. I couldn’t tell you all the places we covered, but it was great to be shown around the city by a local. I even got to see some of Stockholm’s world-famous subway stations, which are incredible works of art. There are 100 subway stations and 90 of those have some sort of artwork in them, making Stockholm’s subway system one of the longest art exhibitions in the World. While some stations only have sculptures, or the odd mosaic, others are completely decked out in striking murals and paints. It’s quite incredible really, and I know of people who have visited the city just to see the subways. 

Stockholm is a big city, but you’re given space to move around easily. It’s spread out over 14 islands in the archipelago, but it never really feels like you’re moving far between neighbourhoods. And, you’ve that typical Swedish culture of people being friendly and polite which adds to the allure of the city.

I surprised myself by how much I loved wandering around this city. It’s fairly big, but you’re given space to move around easily, and that’s the beauty of it. It’s spread out over 14 islands in the archipelago, but it never really feels like you’re moving far between neighbourhoods. And, you’ve that typical Swedish culture of people being friendly and polite which adds to the allure of the city. It’s a city you could easily spend more than just a week. Where New York is big and loud, Venice is romantic and mysterious, Morocco is a hurly-burly mix of chaos and senses, Stockholm is, well, it’s just cool and on trend.

My first taster of Sweden left me wanting to return to see so much more of this beautiful country and landscape. I would love to capture it in winter when the rooftops, streets and waters are all frosted over with ice and snow. Apart from feeling bitterly cold, I can only imagine it’s pretty magical :-)