Edinburgh and what not to do….

Those of you who have broken a bone will know what this feels like…the feeling of being disconnected from a limb…

Saturday 20th January - I waved my left arm about – about 10 metres from the top of Arthur’s Seat frantically shouting ‘my arm, I can’t feel it anymore’; adrenaline coursing through my body, the cold air hitting my exposed skin, and that feeling of pure dread knowing I’d done something nasty to my body…and wondering ‘how the heck am I going to get out of this sticky situation I’d got myself into. And, more important, how the *bleep* am I going to get down from this mountain and get help?’

I knew the second my feet slipped out from under me - and I tried to break my fall by stretching out my left arm, banging my head onto solid rock in the process - that this wasn’t going to be a little bump. I just knew I wasn't going to walk away slightly bruised from this fall.

The piercing pain and the feeling that I was picking up half my arm from the floor just didn’t feel right.

Andrew - who I’m so glad was with me in Edinburgh (thank god, I wasn't travelling solo this time) tries to calm me down. I remember his look that was saying 'you're going to have to move'. But as stroppy as it seemed at the time, there really was no way I was moving from the spot I’d slumped into. Holding onto my arm for dear life, Andrew sprung into first aider action (ironically I was the one with the first aider certificate!). Anyway! he made me a sling out of a spare thermal he had in his backpack... whilst I sat there and well, cried.

I’m not quite sure what was going on in each other’s heads at that moment. I was freaking out thinking ‘why has this just happened. We’re on top of a windy mountain – although to be honest, I’m not even sure you’d call it a mountain. It’s more of a steep hill…but, at that moment in time, it just felt like a huge big gigantic mountain - it’s icy, it's cold and there is no one around’.
It’s not even like I could hobble a few metres to the nearest help-point, and I really didn’t fancy being left alone whilst Andrew went to find help.

…moments later and like a knight in shining armour – or maybe just pure luck – or, I like to think that someone was looking down on us – a man appeared from nowhere. I glimpsed the word ‘Ranger’ on the man’s sweatshirt, but assumed it was just one of those branded sweatshirt you get nowadays.
But, my knight - aka Robbie the Ranger - took one look at my face and said “you look like you need help?” and then he sprung into rescue action, reassuring us he’d seen worse, and injecting a little humour into the situation. I was so relieved to see Robbie, and so relieved he was there to help. He was asking so many questions....

“did I need air lifting?”, “could I walk”, “how was the pain?….”

... mountain rescue armed with pain relief were on soon their way, as well as an ambulance. The whole time I was thinking “what is mum going to say when she finds out?’. Because I travel alone a fair bit, she’s got into the habit of telling me ‘not to lose anything, to be careful, to make sure I look after my phone, to keep my passport, money and most importantly myself stay safe’, so I REALLY wasn't looking forward to her finding out about this little incident. 

Andrew and Robbie manage to hoist me up and onto my feet, and with teeny baby steps and lots of stopping to get my breath back, we manage to get to a more sheltered and safe spot. Still, we were nowhere easy for the mountain rescue paramedics to reach me. I was unsteady on my feet and it was slippy, so we resort to sliding me down on my bum - so very ladylike!
Robbie asks how I feel about going a little further and by this time all I want to do is get to the bottom of the mountain, get somewhere warm and for the pain to stop. We see the ambulance in the distance making its way to the bottom of the mountain (hill!). So, wobbly on my feet, and trying to let my arm sink into the makeshift sling around my neck, I hold onto Robbie like my life depends on him, and we take each step, one at a time looking for solid ground where it’s not icy, and where I can place my foot….but, we both slip. I shriek and pain slices through my shoulder.
I wasn't going any further, so Robbie makes me sit and we wait….

It doesn’t take long before three jolly mountain rescuers reach us and take over. I was a little sad to see Robbie back away. Handing me gas and air (my first experience), the guys hoisted me into a sleigh. The rescue takes just over two hours. I remember lying back in the sleigh and looking up at blue sky – it was the first time I realised it all felt so quiet and peaceful up there. I thought how lucky we were that it wasn’t moody and raining. I mean, Scotland is "always" cold and rainy right? (it could all be worse). Inhaling the gas and air – boy, that stuff is AMAZING. I never realised how good it was, I thought it was all in the mind! It’s a shame you can’t buy bottles of it!

Careful not to slip themselves, the rescue team lower me down the mountain and onto flat ground. The next stretch of the rescue was getting me up and onto a buggy – a bit like a golf buggy. I hate attention, fuss and being a nuisance, and all of this all felt like I was doing all three, plus it all felt so dramatic!

And, then it was off to meet two more paramedics and an ambulance….more attention, more fuss, more questions, all just because I’d stupidly slipped and hurt myself :-(

I’ve never been in an ambulance before, so this was another first. And, by now I was sporting a nasty black eye – I’d completely forgotten I’d hit my head as I fell, and I was shaking uncontrollably. I was also a little upset that my gas and air had been taken away from me too – pain was kicking in again :-(

Within half an hour after reaching Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, I’d been x-rayed, checked over by a doctor - making sure I hadn’t been concussed from my fall - and had it confirmed that I had indeed broken my shoulder – the humerus (which to me sounded like hummus).
And, there was me thinking I’d just dislocated my shoulder and all that would happen was a nice doctor would just pop it back into place, and I could go about enjoying the rest of the weekend……sadly not....

Something else was bothering me as I sat talking to the doctor. I was a little concerned that he may have thought I’d wet myself – the chair I’d been sat on had a wet patch from my wet leggings from where I’d slid down the snowy mountain (hill). So reassuring the doctor that I hadn’t peed myself, he popped on a collar and cuff and we said goodbye!

So that was that, not long after that Andrew and I were on our way back home to London – not even 24-hours after we’d arrived. “I feel so bad I’ve spoilt the weekend” I repeatedly said to Andrew who’d now assumed nurse duties, including all lifting and carrying of bags.

We should have been tucking into a breakfast of scrambled eggs, avocado and smoked salmon on toast in one of the many cute cafés that we’d spotted and earmarked the night before. Instead of that, we were back in the comfort of an LNER Train first class carriage looking at each other – me apologizing and feeling sorry for myself, whilst taking bites out of an egg mayo sandwich -which to me still feels like the best ever egg mayo sandwich ever to be made!

All the drama had given me the munchies too, so when the trolley came around a second time, I didn’t say no to a second sandwich and some shortbread biscuits!

The next morning having been to Lewisham Hospital casualty as soon as I got home (and faced my mum), I had it re-confirmed I had broken my shoulder. I spent the next the days feeling very sorry for myself and popping Cocodomol to ease the pain.
Fast forward two weeks after that day, and I returned to hospital for what I thought was a check-up. Sitting waiting for my name to be called out, one of the doctors walked past me and recognised me. Me being me thinks ‘aww, he remembered me, that’s so cute, I must have made an impression!’...but he had other reasons and questions including….“when did you last eat Lucy?”. Hmmm, I wasn’t expecting that….I knew instantly what was meant…an operation…a few hours later I was sitting in a hospital waiting room, filling in consent forms and anticipating my anaesthetist to call my name whenever someone came into the room. It all felt a bit like sitting in a bizarre dentist. One person would get called for their op, and would head off in their white gown, and then another anxious person arrived.

A good few months later pinned and plated, I’m able to write about ‘what NOT to do in Edinburgh!’

Big thanks to Andrew for looking after me and taking care of me – this guy has seen me at my best and at my worst – and I’m lucky to have him as a friend. And huge thanks to Robbie the Ranger, mountain rescue and paramedics who also looked after me on that Saturday morning.

So, what did we see in Edinburgh?

Apart from leaving a little part of me up at the top of Arthurs Seat and the view…..

We… had a comfortable and hassle-free ride through the villages, towns and cities of the east coast with LNER Trains. Not forgetting the best egg mayo sandwich!

We… spoke to some super friendly local people on the bus ride to our cosy Airbnb (which came complete with Tunnock’s caramel wafers and Whiskey)

We…had a lovely walk to the Old Town on Friday evening. The city has a lovely old-charm feel with cobbled streets and cafes everywhere – and I do love a café. I had a good feeling on that Friday evening that I was going to enjoy taking photos of the city (pre-drama)

We…stopped at the famous Harry Potter Elephant Café. I had no pre-illusions about this café, and I admit to never reading or watching any of the books or films. The café had a traditional feel to it, but it was also incredibly touristy. It was a funny experience. We ordered homemade tomato and lentil soup, with bread….the soup arrived and we started eating. But half way through we looked up at each other…. there wasn’t a tomato or lentil in sight. Ha, it was all vegetable and it was delicious.

I wasn’t going to mention this, but I was reminded of a wee incident on our brief evening walk and bus journey home to our Airbnb. Perhaps it was an omen or a warning…we alighted the bus, and guess who manages to find the patch of black ice and falls slap bang onto her bum? Yup, me. I found that all very funny. I was more concerned about my camera than my bottom!

Here’s Andrew’s account of the day, in his words…

I Andrew, swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and mostly the truth.

Well, let’s set the scene. It was a beautiful Edinburgh morning in January. Snow was crunching under foot as we walked through the deserted streets up to the beautiful Holyrood Park, home to Arthur’s Seat. The scene of the crime.

We passed through the park following Google maps to the foot of the mountain, which apparently is technically a hil - but it felt like a mountain. And we began our climb.

Looking back, the warning signs were there. We were both sliding around on the snow and ice so should have called it quits there, but we could see other people making the climb so thought ‘hey, it can’t be that bad’. On we walked getting higher and higher. We were still slipping about but the top was in sight. We were in a narrow gully which looked like it led to the summit with the promised view across the city.

It was all supposed to be so simple, a gentle walk to the top, take a few pictures of the view and then down for breakfast in one of the cute cafes. And that’s when it happened. In a matter of second our weekend took a dramatic change. One second Lucy was on her feet, the next she was on the floor face down in the snow. 

I started laughing as I’m a nice guy like that. But as soon as Lucy rolled over I knew something wasn’t right as she was as white as a sheet. She kept saying I can’t feel my arm, whilst waving it at me. Lucy stopped waving her arm and started crying. It was at that point I knew we had to get off the hill. Which was going to be a challenge as Lucy was now clutching her arm and refusing to move. But move, we had too. I some managed to get Lucy to slide down the 5 metres on her foot while I dragged her other foot. But that was as far as she was going. We were stuck.

I was doing my best not to freak out at the situation for Lucy’s sake, but I was beginning to get worried. And then like a miracle, Robbie the Ranger appeared. He instantly took control of the situation and calmed us both down. Lucy was wrapped in one of those silver foil blankets and was slowing sliding down the hill. And then the pain really kicked in and we were not moving any further. We were then given a number of options, some of the words used included mountain rescue, special buggy, ambulance and even helicopter. We managed to persuade Lucy to move to a point where the special rescue team would be able to reach us.

It was at this point that I for some reason started talking photos of Lucy in her moment of pain, but I know Lucy well and knew that she would appreciate the pictures. Turns out I was right. Phew! The mountain rescue team met us and loaded Lucy into the stretcher. They then gave Lucy gas and air for the pain and her mood instantly lifted. It lifted so much she decided she wanted to have a baby as the gas and air was sooooooo good. 

This was when the amazing vehicle turned into something from Thunderbirds, if Thunderbirds had golf buggies with 6 wheels. Lucy and her stretcher were strapped to the began her descent. Whilst I had to walk.

The mountain rescue crew and Robbie were amazing and got us down from the mountain and into the warmth of the ambulance. Before we were whisked off to Edinburgh’s top tourist hot spot: The A&E department!

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 :-)

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….

Barcelona & Benidorm in August…

People often say ‘you never know someone until you travel with them’. And, I agree with this statement, because I think we all act a little differently when we’re taken away from the hum-drum of daily life and daily routines. There’s less distraction, there’s the excitement about being somewhere new and it’s a chance for us to relax too. But, it also got me thinking that if someone you know well ends up surprising you when you're away travelling together, then maybe you haven’t really been paying that much attention. If it’s a good surprise, then I think it adds to the friendship bond and makes that relationship an even stronger one. 

So why Barcelona…and more importantly why Benidorm?

This trip came about on a day whilst I was sat at work. I received a WhatsApp message from Tobi (@tobishinobi who I went to visit in Chicago earlier this year). We’d both spoken about visiting a particular place not too far from Benidorm. So, when Tobi said something along the lines of ‘how about we also go to Barcelona when we go to Benidorm?’ I said ‘yeah, OK, why not’.

I love Barcelona, and I already knew Tobi would too. So, once we’d set about picking dates, I started looking up flights, accommodation and trains between Barcelona and Alicante – it seemed the best way to get there. Flying would eat up too much time once you factored in getting to the airport, and I was told that even though the drive was a pleasant one, there were a few toll roads to get through. And, we just didn’t have the flexibility of time on our side, not on this trip as Tobi had to return to Chicago.

First off, let me give you a little background on how Tobi and I first met. It’s also a bit of background on how Instagram (as cheesy as it sounds) for me has been a life-changer.

I met Tobi on my second Instagram meet. The first meet was on the previous day at a Worldwide Instameet where I had very little knowledge of what the app really did or how it would change the way I view photography, my life and the world around me. I also had no idea that I would end up meeting so many people, some of who I consider close friends.

Not everyone you meet in life is going to become a friend. I think we all have people in our lives that we class in varying levels of friendship; there are ‘close friends’, ‘friends’ and then there are ‘acquaintances’. You’re not going to have that ‘close connection’ with everyone you meet, and, that’s ok. Anyway, Tobi and I have been friends ever since. It’s also a beautiful reminder to me of that day, I turned up at my first ever Instameet. I was shy, really nervous, and anxious. I didn’t know anyone, and for so many reasons, I will always be forever grateful for that day.

So, back to this trip. Barcelona is another city that I’ve grown to love visiting. This was my third visit, and I’m going to go as far as to say I could actually live in the city. There's so much to see and so much to do, and there are still places I’ve not yet visited - even after a third attempt!

If I could describe Barcelona as a woman, I'm going to say she’d be rebellious, but striking; flirtatious and beautiful. A lady who regularly neglects her beauty sleep for debauched evenings and nights out. I guess you could say that this is a city which never feels guilty about having a good time, and she doesn’t care about what she looks like in the morning.

I knew that on this trip I would see the city differently, and that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted to see it from a different perspective, as well as capture my style of photography at the same time. And, I did. Tobi and I walked a lot, saw a lot, talked a lot and took a lot of photos (and yet I still feel like I could have taken a whole heap more). It was exciting to be in the city with a friend who was seeing it for the first time.
Because I travel a lot on my own, when you’re travelling with other people you have to be mindful of each other. Don’t stress, have fun and it’s important that should things go wrong (which they may well do) to make the best of them. Oh, and make sure you laugh about things wherever possible. Sometimes the tiny little giggles shared between each other end up becoming favourite moments. Here’s another important tip, ‘always’ be free to talk about your wishes and expectations, or even just your state of mind. Like getting up at early o-clock for sunrise, it was something Tobi and I both wanted to do.

Whilst we were in the city, we met up with another photographer friend Jonathan (@ehovu). Jonathan and I met for the first time in Barcelona last year. We’d already forged a good friendship on Instagram, and that followed through to actually meeting in person (always a bonus!). The two of us always seem to talk a whole lot more than we shoot. The three of us have mutual friends too (another example of friendships born from Instagram).

Whilst Tobi and I were out walking and shooting, a guy randomly hit Tobi up asking if he could meet us...we said ‘yes’. We had no idea who we were meeting, but luckily for us all James (@atribecalledjames) was a cool guy and the four of us had a fun little adventure – they even got me ‘urban exploring’. And, as I’m writing this I have to chuckle to myself as I remember this day…
Note to self; if I go out with these three guys again I need to remember to dress appropriately. A floaty jumpsuit and Toms are not going to cut urban exploring. It was a giggle and it also showed me how friends help each other out; they support you, challenge you and make you a better ‘you’.

I had no idea who James was three hours prior to climbing through trees and what-not, and yet he took my hand and helped me when I was having a girly-struggle in my not so suitable shoes, and surprising lack of upper body strength!

The next morning saw Tobi and I heading for the train station, and for a four-hour train journey to Alicante. It was a shame we didn’t have more time on this trip as the drive from Barcelona to Benidorm would have been amazing. Little did I realise we would be passing through some other Spanish cities that I really wanted to visit…although that's reason for a next time ;-)

Once we got to Alicante, we set about hiring a car. After a little bit of confusion with the car hire company guy, we set off, excited for the next leg of our adventure. The drive to our home for the night was a pretty straight forward one. Our apartment wasn’t so exciting. Maybe, I was a little hot and grumpy, but the owner of the apartment creeped me out a little; he was very strange, and the apartment wasn’t the best place I’ve stayed in. But, hey-ho, luckily, we were only staying there one night and I’m glad I wasn’t staying there alone…

Ok, I mentioned it was a hot day –  so, it was more than hot (it was actually hotter than I remember it being in Morocco); it was sticky and we were sweaty, it wasn’t a great look, especially as we were heading to the place both of us were super excited to see.

Designed by Ricardo Bofil in 1973, at first glance this labyrinth structure with its Eschersque interlocking stairs, platforms and bridges evoke the most complex impossible architecture. You can’t help by be wowed by the design and colours. It’s strange, but beautiful, and oh-so photogenic. I found myself thinking what it would be like to live there…and decided it would be like living in a trippy, modern Escher painting. It’s peaceful and dreamlike. It’s the most unusual three-dimensional geometric arrangement whose walls are stunning shades of pink and red, and jewel-like hues of blue and indigo; all complemented by an unspoilt vista of blue sea and sky horizon. Every angle and perspective is so well composed, and despite the fact that it’s over 40 years old, the building looks more contemporary than ever. I’d love to know what the locals thought about the place when it was first erected, because I thought it was beautiful. I’m a little annoyed at myself though, I don’t think I took enough photos of this architectural gem…

The next day, we woke up early ready for our drive back to Alicante airport. The aim was to catch sunrise in Benidorm first. I have to admit, I’ve always been secretly fascinated with this bucket ‘n’ spade resort. Benidorm is one of those places that most people who know of it have an opinion about, and usually it isn’t good…never dull, sunburnt and drunken Brits abroad, mobility scooters, over-crowded beach, antics of the sitcom ‘Benidorm’ springing to mind…

Having worked for an airline that sent tourists to Benidorm and having written about this slice of the Costa for many years I’d created an imagine in my mind that I was intrigued about. I was threatened many times over the years by my manager who said she'd happily arrange an educational trip for me to Benidorm "so I could see the sights and further my knowledge". And, at the time I really didn’t want to go. Heck no, not when there were far more exotic places I could be sent!
But over the years, I became interested about this beach resort. I wondered whether everything i'd written, seen and read about was true, so it was about time I went to check it out...

And, ok it was early when Tobi and I arrived into the resort. It was quiet and peaceful, albeit for a few early morning joggers and people strolling along the beachfront. I stood taking in Benidorm’s famous skyline; the skyscraper buildings and hotels behind us; the sun was rising; the beach was bathed in golden light and there was not one mobility scooter in sight! It seemed alright!

I know had we arrived much later on in the day, we both would have experienced a totally different Benidorm…and, then we had ice-cream for breakfast before heading home to the airport.

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 :-)

Venice in August vs Venice in November

If anyone ever asks me what my favourite city is, I would have to reply with Venice. Venice is one of those cites I will never-ever get tired of, and I fall in love with her a little more every time I visit. Exploring the city’s alleyways and canals is like having a dream, I don’t want to wake up from.

Actually, before I start this post about Venice I need to confess, if truth be told, I personally prefer Venice in winter. It is much more atmospheric and has a mysterious and magical feel in the air. I was in the city last November and the city blew my mind. I remember waking up at 6am, peering out of my hotel window to a foggy mystical morning and literally jumping out of bed, grabbing my camera and running outside. That day I walked about the city happily with my camera from 6am-6pm, a little smile permanently on my face, and I didn’t once feel tired. The mood is more mature in winter, jackets are donned, the water is more crystal than the summer butteryness, and the evenings are cosier. I think the romanticism of Venice in winter is heightened due to an air of elevated secrecy and mischief as people move under the cover of darkness from one calle to another, meeting in whispered voices that seem out of place during the busy summer. 

November also sees Acqua Alta season. Translated as high water. Early morning or late at night, you’ll hear a siren that let people know that high water will be expected. I didn’t get to witness much of this phenomenon other than seeing tables piled up in St Mark’s Square ready for the rising waters should they arrive, and early one morning I watched a huge puddle forming in the square. I was ready to capture the scene, but the water didn’t amount to much. As with all things, Venetians tend to take it in their stride, and have found ingenious and simple ways of continuing daily life despite the rising tides, like putting up wooden planks and tables for people to walk across, and donning waterproof boots that are sold when the water arrives.

I counted up the times I’ve visited the city (it must be five), and so many memories came flooding back…. The first time was with my mum when we stayed in Lido di Jesolo and we took a day trip to the city. It was like no other place either of us had been, and I admit we were a little nervous we’d get lost and miss our ferry home, then there was the time mum and I took my brother, James. This will always be a memorable trip for the sheer number of giggles we had. It was also the first time I had ever used a digital compact camera. I remember standing in St. Mark’s Square excitedly taking a photo and then being able to delete it and retake another (it’s funny the things you remember so vividly). Then there was the time I was with my friend Zee. We caught the last ferry back from Venice to Lido not realising the buses had stopped in Lido. Boy, that was an adventurous evening sharing a car home with three complete strangers (luckily for us, they were friendly and harmless).

So…back to Venice in August. It’s still very beautiful, but be prepared to embrace the hot sticky weather, as you will be walking A LOT. And, pack smart. I get it, you come to Italy and ladies you want to wear a pretty dress and cute heeled sandals, but trust me, you’ll be walking a heck of a lot, all day for hours. There’s no transport in the city (which people forget!), other than canal boats and gondolas, and you’ll grow to hate those cute sandals with a passion. They key to packing well for Venice is to think “all-day comfort”.

I don’t want to waffle on in this post about every single sight you HAVE to see, it would just end up as a long list. Plus, there are so many sights and must-see’s, and you can find these in any guide book, blogs or website I want this post to be helpful. I want to give you a sense of my favourite parts of the city, and hopefully, you’ll get an idea of why I keep coming back. Then you can go ahead and bookmark this page for your upcoming trip ;-)

First things first…arriving into Venice.

I remember feeling a little anxious the first time I visited Venice solo. Previous visits to the city had always been day trips where the ferry drop off was by the canal, so staying in the actual city was going to be all new. I arrived to rain. I recall standing outside the airport thinking ‘sheesh, this is going to be fun navigating myself to my hotel in the rain’. But it made it more of an adventure, and I was excited. I like the rain and the city felt somewhat intriguing, and I couldn’t wait to find my hotel to dump my backpack, so I could go exploring. With the help of google maps, plus travel tips from Jonathan (a guy I worked with) who assured me it was as easy as getting from A (airport) to B (my hotel) I set off.

In fact Jonathan was right, it is easy! It doesn’t cost much either. There’s a ticket machine outside the terminal (or you can pre-book online)…and the bus stop is super easy to locate too. There are two bus options to Piazzale Roma (the Number 5 ACTV bus or the faster ATVO bus to Piazzale Roma). And, once you arrive at Piazzale Roma, you can either catch a water taxi, or if you’re like me and love walking, it’s a 40 minutes’ walk to St. Mark’s Square. The walk (if you’re not over laden with luggage) is the perfect start to falling in love with the maze of alleyways and canals, architecture and atmosphere of the city. As with any maze, you will get happily lost, but trust me, there are signs, so you’ll find it easy to navigate your way around. Plus, if you just look out for the Campanile you’ll get your bearings, and you’ll find your way back on track to St Mark’s Square.

Ok, so here’s the low down on some of my favourite places and areas that I visited in August…

On one of my day trips to the city, I always remember a tour guide telling me that his favourite thing to do was to head away from the touristy sights and crowds of selfie wielding sticks and head in the opposite direction. And, in November that’s exactly what I did, and I walked into what would become my favourite area of the city. So, naturally I returned during August. Seriously, I have heart eyes just thinking about the laundry-lined streets and the cute old nonnas and nonnos (grandmas and grandads) of Castello. It’s the perfect area to just wander and get lost on purpose. It’s the farthest corner of Venice, as I’m writing this I’m beginning to realise just how much there is in Castello. From one moment, you can be walking amongst the quiet streets inhabited by a curious Venetian cat to a parallel street where the world’s finest art is held at the Biennale. Castello is typically Venetian, it has a butcher, baker and a candlestick maker. I found myself being drawn to Via Garibaldi several times of the day, but especially early morning when the smells drifted from the bakeries, and locals would pop out to buy fresh bread and take their first espresso of the day. It’s hard to resist the smell of a freshly baked croissant, so stopping to join them was a daily luxury. Castello was my evening pit stop too. Nowhere is as still as Venice at night; no street vendors, no tourists, only the splashing of oars in a canal, and the clinking of the final glasses in a typical Venetian wine bar called a Bacari, but more on them later.

Dusk in Venice is best seen from the lagoon. Of course, go to the Rialto Bridge too – that’s an obligatory photo stop, but San Elena – one of the largest areas of greenery has a spectacular view over the lagoon. Mornings too are magic with Grandpa’s sitting with their newspapers or fishing.

Despite loving my off the beaten track ambles, I’m always drawn back to St. Mark’s Square and the Rialto Bridge. And whether the square is crowded with tourists in the height of summer, flooded at high tide in winter, or silent in the moonlight or at dawn, it would be impossible not to find myself standing in the middle of the square spinning around and just taking in the magnificence of life around me. It’s the same when I walk up the stairs and find myself standing on the Rialto Bridge. Even during the most fleeting of visits, I will never not be able to find myself stood here without taking the obligatory photo. It’s got to be one of the most photographed views and quite rightly. Not too far away from the bridge is another of my favourites, Venice’s market. It bustles with chefs and Venetian housewives; it’s full of colour, smells of the sea and the shouts of Italian stall holders; it’s perfect to people watch, buy some of the fruit, and take some photos…simple pleasures.

So, here’s a little advice about the Bacari of Venice. Even if you’re here on a short weekend, you’ll find yourself visiting a Bacari. You’ll probably revisit one more than the others. That might be because it’s close to your home, or more than likely it’s because of the Italian charm of the barman. Bacari work well in the city because they are adapted to the working way of life. Some open at the crack of dawn to accommodate the fishermen until aperitivo time. I was told there’s a certain rhythm to the city, and the Bacari are the bells, as you can tell the time of day simply by looking at them.

Here’s a tradition in Venice. It’s called ‘ciccheti’ and ‘I’ombra’ translated ‘a little bite’ and ‘the shade’. Ciccheti are just supposed to be a small taster to tide you over before dinner. It’s like Spanish tapas. It might be something like grilled baby squid, crostini with sardines or fried meatballs, however they can be so tasty, that you’ll find yourself wanting more before you get to picking a main meal. And, ‘I’ombra’ refers to the glass of wine that ciccheti is always washed down with. There’s two stories as to how it earned this name. Firstly, because the gondoliers used to ‘snatch’ a glass of wine in the shade away from the sun. Secondly, the wine sellers who would set up their tables in St Mark’s Square used to follow the shadow cast by the bell tower to keep the wine cool.

Whilst on the subject of food, I need to tell you about the best street food, stop by ‘Frito Inn’ on Strada Nuova and get yourself a cone of unbelievably delicious fried vegetables. Oh, and as with any Italian city, you have to have at least two gelatos a day!

Stumbling across the real Venice in a quiet street of the Dorsoduro area is quite beautiful. It’s a less touristy and light-hearted area of the city; maybe that’s due to the charming local bars and the squares that are often filled with children happily chasing each other about, the locals out walking their dogs, or elderly couples strolling arm and arm with each other. You don’t see that level of affection as much these days, and it made me smile. Spending time here will give you a totally different view on the city, and I’ve decided it’s where I’m going to look at staying the next time I visit Venice. One of my favourite afternoons in this area was looking out across Venice’s canals with my feet dangling over stone quays. Sitting here with no cares or worries felt so blissful.

A little bit art gallery info for you...if you’re looking to visit as many art galleries whilst you’re in the city, the Dorsoduro area is a great place to start; you’ve got Peggy Guggenheim, Gallerie dell’Accademia and Ca Rezzonico; and they’re all within easy walking distance.

For me, in terms of defining the two areas I’ve just mentioned… if Dorsoduro is a loveable teenager with a sense of carefreeness; Castello is the grandma, who has the best and most curious stories to tell.

Oh, and a visit to the city must also include some time visiting the one or if not all three of the islands. Murano, Burano and Torcello. All equally as charming and instantly loveable as each other. I took myself off to Burano. It’s like walking into a sweet shop full of candy coloured houses.

I could carry on writing this post and tell you about all the places to visit, see, eat at and take photos…but I’m going to leave it there. It’s not the last time I’ll visit this city. I find it hard not to fall in love at little bit more each time I visit. There’s something about the uniqueness of Venice that will forever inspire and excite me. Whether it’s just getting lost in the streets and stumbling across a hidden courtyard; huddling with the locals around a fishmonger boat in Cannaregio; taking a million and one photos of gondolas on the Grand Canal; standing on the Bridge of Sighs and wondering about past times, eating gelato to the sound of Gondoliers as they pass the time of day with each other, I’m constantly fascinated by how the locals live in this city. Nothing compares to Venice and no other city ever will. It is always going to have a special place in my heart, especially in winter.

Zagreb in July…

I consider myself fortunate that whilst I was working for an airline, I got to visit a bunch of places that perhaps I would have otherwise overlooked as holiday destinations…such as Zagreb.

I’d been to Dubrovnik before and I liked it, so when the new flying route to Zagreb was announced I thought ‘hey, why not? let’s give this little city a visit’.

I admit, I didn’t really know much about Zagreb. I knew it had an unusual sounding museum, ‘The Museum of Broken Relationships’ which sounded intriguing, a large open-air market and a main city square, Ban Jelačić, - which my hotel overlooked. I discovered that the Hotel Dubrovnik where I was staying was one of the oldest in the city. In my mind this, meant it would be quite an old traditional hotel, but it was quite the opposite, I found the hotel modern, and the location was spot-on. It was right on the square and a people-watching hotspot. It’s where people come to sit and take a coffee outside, even in winter when the streets are covered with snow.

I don’t usually butt into other people’s conversations on my travels – I guess this relates back to my previous post about travelling solo and doing things I wouldn’t normally do. But, I overheard a young girl talking to some Croatian people about airport taxis just before we were about to board our flight. I butted into the conversation – which is so unlike me – and asked her if she wanted to share a taxi. We exchanged names and seat numbers super quick before boarding, and then on arrival hailed a taxi. A bus would have taken a good while to reach the city and it was fairly pricey, so sharing a taxi benefitted us both. A conversation well butted into!

So, Zagreb…it’s a funny little city. It tends to get overlooked by visitors who are after Croatia’s sunny beaches, Adriatic waters, party islands and more recently Game of Thrones. Zagreb has none of these. And, whilst the city isn’t crawling with attractions, there are a few noteworthy sites to see during a long weekend. It’s an easily walkable city, has a decent share of cafés, bars, open spaces and museums. 

My best advice for anyone thinking of visiting Zagreb would be to plan ahead – yup, I know I just said that. It’s not really a ‘me’ thing to do, unless I know I want to see certain sights or visit something in particular, or I’ve limited time. But, despite its growing city break popularity, there’s not a huge amount of sights in Zagreb. By all means take a walk and discover the city for yourself, especially the Upper Town and market, but I think you’ll be better off figuring out beforehand the places you’d like to go, for how long you want to visit and what time of year is best to visit too, otherwise you might find yourself with more time than you need.

June was extremely hot, even for me and I love the heat. I think a couple of days the temperature hit mid 40 degrees, so it was fairly sticky. I also know that Zagreb is well-known for having the best Christmas market in the whole of Europe. That’s quite an impressive statement, so it must be good. And, I can actually picture Zagreb’s streets with a wintery feel. Some cities lend well to wintery, foggy, melancholy days and I think Zagreb is one of those magic wintery cities. Apparently, Zagreb’s Zrinjevac park is where the most iconic part of the market is held. The whole park – which is a large space – gets covered in lights making it feel wintery and romantic. Having walked through the park in the sweltering heat, that’s a sight I’d love to see.

As soon as I arrived, I set out onto Ban Jelačić Square. It’s a popular meeting place from morning right through to evening when the square really bustles with locals. I found it a great spot to return to throughout the day. I saw early morning workers jumping on trams, elderly shoppers heading off to buy their fruit and veg in the market, street entertainers, tourists milling about taking photos and then in the evening young lovers and friends meeting up to chat and socialise, whilst older folk sat passing the time away.

I’m not going list all of the of places I visited, but I’m going to tell you about my favourites…

I’m going to start with ‘The Museum of Broken Relationships’. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect here, it sounded like a strange concept to me, and it’s quite an emotional place, and yes, I did shed a few tears – be warned, it’s hard not to get blurry eyed. Hands down, this is the most unique and quirky museum, and the best that I’ve ever been to. It’s the only museum where I’ve stopped to admire and read every single display. Showcasing relics and mementoes from relationships that have been lost for one reason or another.  The idea was born out of two artists from Zagreb who broke off their four-year relationship. In the process of returning each other’s belongings, they joked about how they should start a museum for all the items they were getting rid of. Fast forward a few years later and they went through with the idea encouraging other lost loves to donate their stories. The stories are from around the world range from bitter to hilarious, from heart breaking to some that are just plain crazy. I also stopped to read the visitors book of real life stories scribbled down by people like you and me. I added my own little entry that maybe someday, someone will stop to read and relate to.

As I walked around the market and city streets, I couldn’t help but wonder what life was like in Zagreb before. In Croatia. In Yugoslavia. The mentality and attitude of the people must have been formed through their experiences. I’m a curious person, and Zagreb piqued my Eastern European interest.

The Croats are generally reserved and rule abiding, but once you get to know them, they warm up. I noticed that people in general don’t really interact with strangers or strike up conversations. It’s not that they are rude, it’s just their culture.

Aside from Zagreb being small and compact, I liked that the people of Zagreb – like any European destination – adore the whole outdoor café culture. It’s a known thing that travellers dream about sitting sipping espressos in Milan, or day dreaming dwelling at a typically French café in Paris, but it’s a lesser known fact that the Croatians are also masters of an excellent cup of coffee. The best place to experience this is on Tkalčiceva Street. Kava Tava bar was one of my favourite pitstop for tea and a chill stop.

Most importantly, you won’t feel like a lost tourist in Zagreb. There have been times when I’ve been exhausted by just how touristy a city can be. In the majority of cities, there’s a clear dichotomy of tourists vs locals. This isn’t so in Zagreb. It’s fairly laid back, so you don’t feel out of place. I just stood in the middle of Dolac market one morning – I was pretty much in everyone’s way – but no one said a word, they just hustled and bustled about me. They didn’t seem to notice a strange English girl observing local life and snapping away with her camera – I found that quite refreshing. I never found any sight or street overcrowded. I pretty much had the Observation deck - the best spot to get a panoramic view of the city – all to myself! It was the same Illica street - the main shopping street – it never felt overly busy. It’s a good place to do some high street shopping, if that’s your goal, have some breakfast and watch the city trams chug along.

Most of my evenings were spent taking a stroll down Illica street to Britanac Square, camera in hand street snapping - and then back to Ban Jelačić where I stood for a good couple of hours watching people getting on and off the trams. I found this was where I took most of my photos, and where I felt most inspired shooting. The trams have that melancholy old-time feel, the people always seemed lost in their daily thoughts, maybe, it was that end-of-day feeling, and I was content just standing there watching them.

So, my opinion on Zagreb...it can easily be covered in two days. It’s a good short city break if you’re looking to tick off another city, visit a few museums and experience some café culture in a not too touristy city – it’s not a mind-blowing city – I wonder if I would think differently if I’d visited in winter.

Porto in June...

I've decided to structure this post about Porto about travelling solo, I hope you find it insightful...

Don’t get me wrong, I love travelling with friends, I love being around people and I’ve had some of the most amazing trips with friends like my trips to Morocco and Chicago, but there is something hugely liberating about travelling alone. There’s something satisfying about getting on that plane alone; arriving at your ‘home’ for the duration of your trip, and really taking some time out for yourself.

I love the freedom to do what I want and when. That may appear a little selfish, and I’m not a selfish person, but it’s true and I learn something new about myself every time I travel alone.

When I first realised that if I wanted to see more of the world I was going to have to do it on my own, I was a little terrified of the prospect. I don’t speak any other languages, the idea of travelling to a new place on my own was a scary one. I had no idea what travelling alone would be like…

…fast forward three years and plenty of solo trips later, and I absolutely love it. I would encourage anyone to take that leap and do it at least once. It’s that same old saying ‘if you don’t try, you won’t know’. You may write to tell me that really hated it . Or, you may tell me that you wished you’d tried solo travelling sooner and you absolutely loved it, especially to somewhere like Porto where it feels completely felt safe for a little break. The people were friendly and the city was easy to navigate. It’s small enough to not feel intimidating, and it’s a good city to pick if you do feel like taking a first trip solo.

So, why Porto? I didn’t travel to the city for its wine, nor its churches or its food, I travelled because I’d been to Lisbon the year before and I had an image in my mind of colourful buildings teaming down the hill all the way to the River Douro – an image I wanted to see for myself.

While Porto lacked the wow factor of Lisbon, it’s still a beautiful riverside city with lots of traditional – not too touristy – charm. I had a lovely Airbnb all to myself at the quieter end of Rua Santa Caterina which is the main street that runs through the city. And, it was lovely to have some quiet time after a day of exploring and walking. One thing I found out in Porto is that you have to do a bit of leg work. Even though it’s a fairly small city, many of the streets are up hill. At the end of a day, you do feel like you’ve had a work out, but in a good way.

The location of my Airbnb really was ideal. It’s the main shopping street and home to many cafes including the famous Majestic Café, a place to treat yourself, and considered one of the most glamourous venues in the city.

You can feast your eyes on some spectacular views of the city without having to do any real research. That’s something I found out within my first hour of arriving. I left my Airbnb and took a wander. That feeling of being free; of being somewhere new excites me; I could do exactly what I wanted to, no one knew me and I didn’t know them. I like that feeling. I had nothing but myself, my phone and my camera, and I walked into a beautiful sunset. I came back to Sé Cathedral a few times, but the sunset on my last evening was pretty special.

Like I said, Porto is a small city, and apart from the day I took the tram to Foz do Douro (line 1) a little town with a beach, I walked everywhere. Being able to walk around a new place means you see so much more. I stumbled upon so many cute streets where the light was beautiful early morning and again mid-afternoon, and cafés like the Hungry Biker. Hands down, this became my favourite café - it’s not typical Portuguese, but it was such a lovely place. Light and airy with a sweet healthy menu. I popped by for breakfast and lunch most days. I think I ate the whole menu on my many visits, it was so good. The porridge (which I’ve tried and failed to recreate as good as the Hungry Biker) was so nourishing and it really was delicious, as well as their yogurt with berries and the most yummy toast with some of the tastiest toppings I’ve seriously ever had, plus huge mugs of freshly brewed tea. I always arrived just before it got busy and the bonus was I got to chat with the owners. It’s also very photogenic, highly instagrammable, and it was located on what had to be my favourite street of the city, Sâo Nicolau.

So, what else did I do in Porto? I climbed the 240 steps to the top Clérigos tower, probably the most famous tower in Porto. The view from the top is well worth the climb. I got lost in the brightly painted houses of the Ribeira district, probably the most photographed area of the city. I took photos of the blue and white Azulejo tiles in what’s probably one of the most beautiful train stations, Sao Bento. I ate crumbly gooey Portuguese custard tarts in Mercardo do Bolhão. Markets are always a must visit in any city. I was a little sad as this market felt like it was on its way to extinction. The building of the Mercado is without a doubt traditional, authentic and beautiful. The staircases give a real sense of grandeur, and I couldn’t help but imagine what the market would have been like in its heyday. I imagine it would have been so full of life; market traders would be shouting out to each other, they’d be a riot of colour and a whole heap of tempting smells; old men would stand about gossiping while their wives would be shopping, but sadly so much of the market was desolate. I guess that’s a sign of the times – people are heading to big supermarkets now days. I took a photo of this man at the market the first day I visited, and I noticed he was stood in the same place, at the same time every day that I popped by. He looked so melancholy. I watched him watch the market from the upper level, he smoked a few cigarettes, and then hobbled off. I walked across Porto’s iconic Ponte Luis I bridge to Vila Nova de Gaia where I strolled along the riverfront, gazing back over the river to Porto. I carried on walking all the way to the fishing village of Afurada. It was a long two-hour or so walk, but along the way I stopped to watch river-life roll by, I felt good for the walk and I was lucky enough to have blue skies and sunshine for the entire time.

So, when I was in Lisbon last year, I was recommended the best ice cream in Portugal by a follower on Instagram. I actually don’t have a sweet tooth, but when it comes to ice cream, I’m a sucker for it, and it’s a thing I always have to take a photo of me holding my ice cream, so I had to go and check out Santini, and oh boy, my recommendation was spot on. It was indeed great ice cream, so when in Porto I had to find the Porto Santini :-)

I don’t often meet up with anyone when I’m away. I know lots of my friends meet up with people they follow on Instagram. Quite often I’m only in a city for a long weekend, so time is a factor. But in Porto I met João (@joao.bernardino) - we follow each other on Instagram, and when João asked me to meet really early, I said ‘yes’. It was perfect. I get up early anyway, mornings are beautifully quiet and they’re usually a good time to shoot empty streets and observe the streets as they start to come to life. We actually hoped for a foggy morning (which really excited me), but instead we were treated to golden sunlight. João also updated me on what was about to happen that evening. And, oh wow. Even though I’d been pre-warned by my Airbnb owner and João, I had no idea São João celebrations was as huge; as lively; as crazy; as merry. Even now, I’m finding it hard to describe this festival, and unless you’ve experienced São João in Porto for yourself it’s hard to put it into word. I was told no one does this festival quite like Porto, and I think they were right. The people of Porto know how to party HARD!

It’s like Christmas, New Year, Halloween, Easter, clubbing in Ibiza all at once in every street, in every alleyway, in every little pocket of the city. Midnight sees the inevitable climax of fireworks and illuminations on the river, and the night is far from over. As dawn approaches the celebrations continue well into the next morning. And, as the street clean up commences , I saw people still merry on life and still partying.

People start the build-up to São João several days before the day itself. These celebrations have taken places for centuries, and over that time many traditions have been created. The streets and literally every house is draped with colourful bunting, prizes are awarded for the best decorated Bairros (neighbourhood), people get ready to cook their feasts of grilled sardines and peppers which waft through the air, little pots of herbs are placed in shop windows, bars and cafes open their doors, but these are outnumbered by hastily erected barbecues, stalls selling Superbock beer, Bailaricos (street dances) happen across the city, music fills the air from makeshift stages blaring anything from pop and rock music to traditional fado, people of all ages gather  and dance. 

And, then the hammers appear, along with leeks and the garlic flowers. Yes, you read right. This is a funny tradition, but one that gets everyone laughing and joining in. The tradition is to hit the one you love on the head with a leek or clove of garlic. Over the years, this gentle bop to the head has become a sign of good luck. No one really knows how it all started, but later in the 1960’s a new element was added to this head-banging activity…the inflatable hammer. So, if you do find yourself in Porto on the evening of 23rd June, be prepared for a crazy, but fun experience to get involved in, and don’t be at all surprised if you get boped on the head with an inflatable squeaking hammer.

Here’s another nice thing about travelling solo, you meet random people. One day I walked past a group of women in aprons – they were getting ready for the São João celebrations. They were giggling and jigging along to the street music which was playing on a loud speaker; a couple had already started dancing; another old lady was sat on her doorstep cutting up vegetables; and a cute elderly man was sat close watching his son fire up the grill ready for the evenings celebrations. He looked so content, so I asked if I could take his photo. He smiled and said ‘yes’, and then the family asked me to join them, so I did for a bit. Another time, I sat outside a café drinking a juice. The café was quiet and I spent 20 minutes chatting with the owner who wanted to practice his English. These are moments I really treasure.

These things don’t often happen when you’re not travelling solo. Maybe it’s because your eyes are not as wide open, or you get distracted by whoever you are with. I’m sure it would have been a difference experience. Regardless, we would have had a fun still; we would have stayed out later; drank more; definitely partied at the São João festivities; ate more; laughed and chatted lots, and made memories, but solo travelling for me is ‘Me’ time. It’s me being happy making memories on my own.

Day trip to Essaouira…

Because so much happened during our Marrakech trip, I decided to split this post into two separate ones, and tell you about how we ended up having a day trip to Essaouira. If you’ve read my earlier Marrakech post, you’ll have read that Andrew and I came up with a grand plan, that wasn’t quite sound so feasible once we’d worked out the logistics…once the two of us had got over the fact that we wouldn’t be making the 12-hour round trip to Chefchaouen and Nipon had rolled his eyes at us – yeah, I know, we got way too excited with our idea – we settled on having a day to Essaouira. And, it was so much fun.

We found ourselves with an easy-going driver, Abdul and in his willingness to drive us, he also got our humour, chatted away to us and even laughed at our jokes. The drive was around 2 ½ - 3 hours, so it was just as well he found us funny, it was going to be a long drive otherwise, we chat a lot!

Our drive took us through so many little villages and towns, and we saw so many interesting snippets of local life, and so many photo opportunities. Lorries packed so high with hay or some form of fruit. We even saw a guy riding his motorcycle with a crate of fresh eggs balanced on his head. Like, how did he do that without breaking one?

I’ve always wanted to shout ‘stop, the car’ and that’s exactly what the three of us said to Abdul as we passed tree goats in Argan trees. I never entirely believed this to be true, even though I’ve seen photos of this rare sight, but it’s real alright. These are not your normal, pasture-grazing goats. These animals climb on top of the Argan trees that can measure 26 to 33 feet high to graze on the fruit. Amazing, right? these trees are also where Moroccan Argan oil comes from.

After the goat excitement and more giggles with Abdul, we arrived in Essaouira. Abdul gave us our pick up point and off we went.

We headed straight to the fishing port. I love a good fish market, but wow, nothing prepared me for the thousands and thousands of squawking seagulls swooping down on the fishermen. I’ve never seen anything like it, and it wasn’t an opportunity that I was going to miss capturing with my camera…even if it meant I might get seagull pooped on. And, yes, I did get pooped on, three times!

We had a quick wander of the fishing port itself watching the fishermen shouting to each other, gutting their fish in their haste to offload their catches. The smell of fish permeated the air as cats sniffed around. It’s where you’ll find locals mending fishing nets and constructing traditional boasts, and where you’ll be able to snap a view of the fortified city from afar. We had a little incident where Andrew got chased by a fisherman wielding a knife, a reminder that not everyone likes their photo taken, and then we met a lovely friendly guy who happily let us snap him, so you really do have to be aware and be open to the locals.

We then headed into the city walls to explore the cobbled streets. I’m not a Games of Thrones fan, but Essaouira’s claim to fame is having been a filming location for series 3.

I think the three of us just loved walking through the streets stopping when something caught our eye. The main street was a great people watching experience. Old and young men alike just chilling in carts or sipping Moroccan tea. We made friends with a couple of shop sellers who offered Andrew and Nipon some camels to keep me and then stopped to rest at a cute café for mint tea and biscuits. I’ve never drunk more mint tea than I had whilst in Marrakech. In a country where ‘having a beer’ is not a thing, locals substitute pot of mint tea. There’s a fine art to pouring mint tea too; the higher the teapot, the better.

Essaouira is pronounced ‘es-sweera’ and it is considerably more relaxed and unhurried in comparison to the maze-like streets and madness of Marrakech. It doesn’t have the same visitor numbers or quite the same souks or streets. A total difference and it made for a beautiful wander. It offered up a refreshing and somewhat bohemian escape. Houses are painted a fresh white and blue, there’s a cool sea which makes sense as it’s known as ‘the windy city of Africa. The beaches here are a mecca for surfer and windsurfers. The medina – a Unesco World Heritage Site – is pedestrianised, and the souks are a joy to explore. Nipon and Andrew decided to both try on djellabas which they’d both been exclaiming looked cool and comfortable, and we didn’t feel harassed into buying. Everything just felt chilled!

People seemed more content here. They’re not hustling, and they’re happy to talk to you. Maybe it’s the seaside vibe, or the cultural influence (Portuguese, Berber, Jewish, Dutch and French), or the romantic artsy-hippy vibe - whatever it is, it’s as chilled as it is unique and we loved it. You can’t help but feel a sense of peace.

We lingered until the sunset, deciding to grab some freshly baked Moroccan bread, olives, cheese and I’d been addicted to Moroccan dates since arriving – and we sat watching the sunset, waves crashing against the ramparts, people-watching and eating before heading back to the hustle and bustle of Marrakech. 

Marrakech in May...

It was inevitable that one day my travels would take me to Marrakech. Having worked in the travel industry, I spent a fair bit of time writing about Morocco, but had never actually visited it. Having spoken to people who had, I got the impression that you either fell in love with the city and you’d go back in a heartbeat, or, you wouldn’t! I’m one of the ‘falling in love and would go back in a heartbeat’ travellers.

I remember reading before I visited that the city was eclectic, full of colour, hustle, bustle and you’d 100% get lost in the streets…Fast forward and Marrakech was everything I’d read and more. It’s a mix of Moroccan and international culture; the food is delicious; the pace of life chaotic and the people forever on the move….and yes, you will most definitely ‘get lost’ in the city streets – I’d liken it to a never-ending maze of alleyways all leading off into different alleyways - but that’s half its charm. And, there are quiet spots where you walk through a doorway to find yourself somewhere where you can sit and drink delicious mint tea.

I usually travel alone, but for this trip I had two travel buddies – Andrew (@andreweggy) and Nipon (@slipongravel). I’ve known Andrew for six years. We worked together and he’s like another brother, and Nipon, I’ve known for three years. We met at one of my very first instameets. We all get on pretty well, which is important when you’re travelling. If there’s one thing to learn in life, it’s to pay attention to the dynamics in a group, and what everyone is into and wants. Another thing when you’re travelling with others is the excitement. The excitement of travel buddies is that holiday enthusiasm rubs off on each other, and by the time you’re due to fly, excitement is at a high and you’re ready to burst!

Nipon was in charge of booking our Airbnb, and Riad Chorfa didn’t disappoint. Our Riad had a separate Douiria which is where we would be staying.  This is essentially a private annexe with separate bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchen and a rooftop, and it was perfect. And, we still had access to the main Riad, which amongst its residents had a couple of cute tortoises. We pretty much took a quick tour around our home for the next couple of days and headed out eager to explore.

First impressions were wow. The three of us were wide eyed and raring to go with our cameras. We were so excited to be standing in Jemaa el Fnaa that we didn’t know what to do first. Explore or eat. We opted to refuel and headed to one of the restaurants on the square, Café Zeitoun – this became our meetup spot if any of us wandered off for alone time, or if we got separated from each other. It was a perfect people watching spot and the food was so delicious we returned a few times.

In my mind, I pictured Jemaa el Fnaa as a tightly packed ‘square’. However, it’s more a huge sprawling square with alleyways and streets leading off from it, and the Koutoubia mosque overlooking it all. But, it is just like everyone describes – a large chaotic – I guess you could say…mess! But it’s a mysterious and magical mess with hundreds of people always on the go; shopping, chatting, getting henna tattoos, talking loudly and generally just gathering to pass the time away. You could also describe it as an open-air cinema, food festival and living museum!

The three of us loved strolling through the square. Despite being hectic, loud and fast paced, it’s absolutely fascinating. It’s probably one of the most fascinating people-watching places in the country. We were mind blown, and in my head, I was thinking ‘how do I go about capturing this on my camera?’

One thing I should mention is that you do have to keep your wits about you. I never felt unsafe, but Marrakech as a whole is very busy. You have to remember it’s cultural different – not everyone welcomed having a camera pointed at them. It’s also ridiculously easy to get lost and disorientated in the alleyways. By the end of our few days in the city, we worked out that it’s fairly easy to find an alleyway, walk down a street and at the end you’ll find the minaret, and then you’ll hear and see the square!

As the sky starts setting, the square takes on a different feel. It gets even busier during the evening. The Koutoubia minaret is silhouetted against the setting sun, and the crowds gather even thicker than during the day. You’ll see street entertainment at its best. Berber musicians, dancers, fire-eaters, sword-swallowers, people gather to listen to bands and storytellers, smoke billows from fires as groups gather to settle down for the evening. Performers lead their monkeys and lizards past stalls selling fresh juices, peanuts, kebabs, snails and tajines. And, around the edges of the square are scribes, travelling dentists, doctors with potions and barbers wielding their razors. The atmosphere is electrifying. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It’s crazy and intense, but it’s also hypnotic and I relive the scene whenever I look at one of the photos I captured.

We had so many favourite moments, but here’s a few to mention. Oh, and I’ve added a funny story I just had to share with you…  

Place des Epices is vibrant and colourful. This ancient square characterizes Marrakech in a fusion of Africa and Arabia. Come here to buy all sorts of mysterious lotions, potions and spices. From magic spell potions, live chameleons, roots, bark, herbs, leaves, horns, tusks, cures for everything imaginable from herbal remedies to cure a broken heart to essential oils. You name it, they had it! We made friends with a stallholder here wearing a hat with ‘Happy’ embroidered on the front – he was indeed a happy chap, so we named him ‘Mr Happy’.

This is where you’ll find one of Marrakech’s famous restaurants, Nomad. We’d read great reviews about the food here, but we opted to go to ‘Café des Epices’. Here you can sit at tables watching market life or head up to the little roof. We came here a couple of times, but I remember having lunch on the roof terrace and then hearing the call to prayer bellow across the rooftops and market. I think there’s something beautifully melodic about hearing the call to prayer. Seeing people flock to mosques in their prayer clothes was quite a unique cultural experience for the three of us. It’s also the best alarm clock at 5am. It’s something I missed hearing once I’d returned home to London.

After the rough-edged chaos, noise and heat of the hurly-burly bustle outside, stepping into the Ben Yousef Madrassa is like stepping into an elegant refined sanctuary. It’s also very beautiful. Marrakech is known for also having its fair share of western glamour – luxury hotels, spas, shops and restaurants, but it’s still very much an Islamic city and holy pilgrimage site. This college which was one of the largest theological colleges of its time is most definitely one of the most dazzling examples of Moorish architecture, reminiscent to Alhambra in Granada.

We stayed a fair while in the school. We could have got around faster, but because the three of us found different things to photograph or we were waiting for people to pass, we didn’t hurry.

What we quickly worked out was that it’s fun to have banter with the locals and stall holders. A polite hello or bonjour went a long way. It costs nothing to be friendly and it brightened up their day and ours. Quite often it felt like many of the stall holders needed that friendly hello to perk them up from what’s probably a long day. It became a fun thing for us to do, the locals got accustomed to us and some even remembered us the next day. They probably thought we were a trio of three strange English people, but it didn’t stop us from ambling along the streets saying hello to anyone that crossed our path. It’s something we remembered to do on our next Moroccan adventure. I think we got hassled less because of our friendliness too.

The souks of Marrakech are some of the largest in Morocco and famous for being exotic places to shop. Each souk is named after the products being sold, and asides from the allowances for modern tastes, they sell products as they would have a thousand years ago. The best time to take a wander around the souks is in the cool of morning, or in the evening when the sun seeps through slatted roof shades, illuminating a million golden dust motes. It’s quite beautiful.

Andrew is great at pre-holiday planning, while I’m more of a wanderer and if I bump into a cute restaurant, I’m a pop-in and try type of person. However, I’m thankful Andrew found the Earth Café when he was pre-planning. It was a little adventure locating the place, but the Earth Café was a delicious find, and so friendly. The food is all vegetarian and because we didn’t know what to order – the mouth-watering smells hit us as we arrived, we wanted everything – I think we ordered a few dishes on the menu. Safe to say, we left with full and happy tummies that evening.

There were so many high points in our trip, but the day of our hot air balloon saw us wake up super early. This was a day the three of us had been super excited about for months! It wasn’t just a hot air balloon ride, it was a sunrise mission. Navigating ourselves to the bab (gate) to meet our driver was a little quest. Walking through the square at silly o’clock while it was still dark was eerie, and crazy to think in a few hours the square would erupt with life. I made a note to myself that if I returned to Marrakech in the future, I’d take a day to document a complete 24-hours in the square.

So, once we found our driver and picked up a couple of other people, we headed off along dirt tracks and into what I can only describe as empty land - save for a few shepherds - until we arrived at a spot where a Berber breakfast was laid out in front of us. We tucked into local honey and olive oil with freshly made crepes and Moroccan pancakes teamed with salty olives, eggs, mint tea and very strong coffee. It was delicious. 

After stuffing ourselves, it was time to head to our hot air balloon. Our pilot Abdel, who was quite the joker had us laughing a lot throughout the build up and during the flight. It was fascinating to watch the flames and the balloon take shape. Abdel even let us stand right inside the balloon as they were firing up. Now, that was a surreal experience.

Clambering in and out of the balloon was quite the experience too, especially for someone with short legs. It gave the crew and group a fair few giggles.

It was such an incredible feeling to float in the air. The adrenaline rush and excitement had me shaking, and all of us wowing. The sun was rising and as we got higher and higher all we could see was bare land. Everything you can imagine about a hot air balloon flight is true. It’s magical; drifting over the surface of the earth in the cool of the morning air, silent except for the woosh of the propane and our joker Abdel.

After we’d calmed down from the flight, it was time for more excitement and more giggles...a camel ride where we were dressed up in traditional Berber dress and led off for a short trek. Nipon has video footage of me squealing like a piglet as my camel stood up and sat down. Once back on un-bumpy land, Andrew and I had a grand – and we realise now a ridiculous plan – ‘let’s go to Chefchaouen for the day’….we had it all planned out, only to be told by our Riad that it was a six hour car journey there and back….we decided that was one for another adventure and instead went to Essaouira for the day which I’ll share with you on another post…

I wanted to share this story as it’s one of the funniest – there were so many, but this one is one that I won’t forget. This was my first experience staying in a Riad, and by now you’ll have worked out that I like exploring and getting lost…so after exclaiming I needed to use the bathroom, I set off in the direction my two travel buddies pointed at (or at least I thought they pointed at). I found an open door and went in to the bathroom…however upon leaving the bathroom I saw a bed, sofa and a suitcase. Shock on my face, I scurried out of the room, barely being able to get the words out of my mouth to tell Andrew and Nipon that I’d just had a wee in someone else’s room! The shame!

I loved our chill-out moments, when we’d arrive back at our Douiria late at night and spend an hour or so on our rooftop, gazing at the stars, chatting and sipping mint tea. Little things, special moments…

A few things to note…

While this is good advice for any country, Morocco is slightly more intense than your average destination. Even though we never felt unsafe, it’s always good to be aware. Be careful walking late at night, you never know what lurks around a corner. As a female who loves travelling alone, I’m not sure how I’d feel about walking late at night in Marrakech. Dress conservative and avoid being flashy. Don’t carry your passport out, and don’t venture too far from crowded areas. You should also be aware of scams. If someone asks you into their shop for tea, they’re going to use it as a pre-text to get you to buy something. Say no to random street guides, be firm, no matter their age. A simple question of asking for directions often leads to people asking for money. On many occasions, whether we went off on our own or even when we were a trio, we were told ‘the street ahead was closed’ – it wasn’t, it was just a way of someone getting us to go with them. We got used to making out like we knew where we were going, when in fact we had no idea!

I fell so in love with Morocco. It’s a country where I felt a little out of my element at times; it’s somewhere new and different, and I loved that feeling. Ok, at times it was chaotic, extremely hot (exceeding 45 degrees some days) and definitely there was sensory overload, but it’s an incredible country, and somewhere I know, I will return to. When I say I have so many memories, experiences and photos from our trip, I really do.

Oh, and please if you do visit this city, do go and get lost. Away from the main square, you’ll find pockets of the most wonderful streets and really friendly people going about their daily life.

Chicago in April…

When a close friend of mine, Tobi (@tobishinobi) moved to Chicago from London last year, I knew I’d be paying the city a visit. I would get the best of both; I’d get to spend quality time with Tobi, as well as explore a new city. To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect from Chicago. I knew it was referred to as ‘The Windy City’; the weather was changeable and unpredictable – a bit like London right? and I also knew it was the home of ‘House’ music…

My one experience of the U.S was my trip to New York last year, so I was excited and also apprehensive as to whether I would like Chicago. I’m a real city girl - the sound of police sirens is the norm to me - however, I found New York big, loud and somewhat daunting, even for me. I absolutely admit though, I totally underestimated Chicago, and I’d go as far to say, it’s been one of my favourite places that I’ve visited this year. Maybe that’s because I had no expectations and the city totally surprised me 100%...

Despite its skyscraper buildings, the city has space for you to move around freely without feeling closed-in and claustrophobic. It’s clean and green, has a cool atmosphere, and has a genuinely chilled vibe compared to New York (that's my personal opinion, so I'm sorry to any New Yorkers reading this).

I was lucky to be staying with my Tobi at his apartment – which was in a great location. It took me about 35 minutes to walk to Millennium Park, and whilst Tobi was at work, I was free to do what I love best…get lost with my camera. I’m usually ok with this as Google maps is my best friend when I’m away. But in Chicago, Google maps had me going around in circles on more than one occasion. The GPS isn’t the best, due to the sheer amount of tall buildings. I’m pretty sure I walked a block - at least twice - before discovering the metro stop that I was looking for was a few steps from where I was first stood.

I was excited, I had a whole week to explore! But, my first stop had to be the famous ‘Cloud Gate’ otherwise known as ‘The Bean’. Designed by Sir Anish Kapoor – who also designed London’s Orbit in the Olympic Park. This mirrored sculpture is quintessentially Chicago. It’s not only beautiful to look at, it’s fun to watch yourself from every angle, as well as views of the city. And, it’s interesting to watch all the kids who visit; they’re totally fascinated by it.
I walked past The Bean every day on my walkabouts of the city, and couldn't resist snapping a photo. If you want take a photo free from tourists, you really do have to get to arrive early. And, if you want to get this master-piece at its best and most peaceful, get up early and get it as the sun rises. I never made it for sunrise, but that gives me a reason to go back, right!

I’d heard about and also seen photos of Chicago’s Loop before I reached the city. I remember thinking ‘that is one area I am going to get lost in’. It confused me a little at first, but after being explained about the ‘blocks’ and the train system, I discovered it’s a great area to wander and lose yourself taking photos of locals and business workers scurrying about. Essentially the ‘Loop’ is the centre of the city. It’s where all neighbourhoods have expanded from; it claims the title of Chicago’s business district; it has the city’s best museums and theatres and has countless options for eating and nightlife. You won’t go hungry or be short of things to see and do if you spend a couple of days exploring the Loop. And, if you’re lucky to grab a sunny day, it’s one of the best areas to catch some of Chicago’s beautiful harsh sunlight.

I’m not going to lie, I was a little anxious about using the trains – my experience of New York's transport system confused the heck out of me so much. However, in Chicago after being shown how the system worked, I think I pretty much wowed and said ‘omg, sign me up for a metro card. This really is so easy!’
The system - known as the ‘L’ which stands for elevated - works on different coloured lines. You’ve pink, brown, blue, green, purple, orange, yellow and red. And, honestly, jumping on one of the L train lines is an easy way to navigate yourself around some of Chicago’s distinct neighbourhoods, even for me. Newly confident with my metro card, I decided to hop on and off a train at least once a day. My favourite line was the brown line as it offered up a great over view of what the city was like below. 
Also, I love shooting on the underground and subways stations; they're always so full of life, atmosphere and cinematic lighting, and Chicago didn't disappoint. Some of my favourite photos were taken at one of the train stations.

Chicago is known for having a mid-west personality with big city vibes. On one hand, it’s a busy diverse metropolis, and on the other, it’s got a neighbourhood community vibe with several neighbourhoods coexisting.
One my favourite districts that I got to experience had to be Wicker Park. Hop on the blue line to get there. It has a chilled neighbourhood feel and it’s a youthful area. Some may say it’s hipster -attracting the young crowd, and it does have a London Shoreditch feel with boutique and vintage shops, trendy coffee joints, neon lit bars, and vegan brunch spots. It also has a fair share eating places whether you’re looking for donuts, ramen, empanadas or tacos…and if you’re on the hunt for ice cream, I definitely recommend giving Jeni’s Splendid ice cream a try. You’ll find a menu with the usual suspects, like chocolate chip and vanilla, but there’s those that come with a twist like wildberry lavender and sweet potato with marshmallow. It’s a pretty cool menu of changing flavours, and a friendly team of staff who'll happily let you try the flavours before you make the all-important choice. 

I noticed almost immediately that Chicagoans love to eat. You will most definitely return home having popped on a few extra pounds from a few days stay in Chicago. There is literally something for everyone, on every corner; on every street. And, Pizza is no joke here. Chicago developed the ‘deep dish’ pizza. It’s more like a pie, than a pizza, but no trip would be complete not having tried at least one of these! 

Not many places claim a beach and an incredible skyline. The east side of Chicago is home to Lake Michigan. This lake is huge. It’s never ending and it's one of America’s greatest. You can pretty much walk, and walk, and walk here…or if you’re feeling active take a run or go rollerblading. I started one of my days walking along the lakefront. I remember the weather being a little bit chilly, but it was one of those days that feels the perfect kind for a walk; the kind that warms you up. I stopped to take a rest and in doing so started chatting to an elderly man who wanted to know where I was from and what I was doing in the city. He was so friendly. Little unexpected moments like this really brighten up my day. I took his advice and carried on my walk to Navy Pier. He warned me that ‘it can get touristy and can get quite busy, but it’s worth a visit, whilst you’re here’.
Located by the beach, it has a ferries wheel - from where you can take in the entire city coastline. Navy Pier reminded me a bit like having a day at a seaside coastal town in the UK. The familiar sweet smell of candy floss and ice cream filling the air, occasional shrill screams and laughter coming from children and adults as they take to the amusement rides. 

To really get a feel for the city - as well as walking the streets - you have to experience it from above, which could be a little problem if you’re afraid of heights. Here’s a teeny secret, if you go up to the Sky Lounge of the 96th floor of the Hancock Tower you can enjoy a cocktail with a view. And, if you are afraid of heights stay on ground level and take an amble along the Magnificent Mile… a mile-long street of shops. There’s everything from Chanel to Macy’s, Nike and so much more. I reckon you could spend an entire day on this street…if you’re a keen shopper.

I thought I’d have heaps of time in my week to visit The Skydeck in the Willis Tower, but no, I left it to my last morning. I set off bright and early, grabbed a cup of tea from my new friends at David’s Tea. If you love loose leaf tea, this place is a must. It’s very much like T2 in the UK and quickly became my favourite tea stop. I even got myself a loyalty card for the week. Armed with tea and Google maps, I set off only to twist my ankle on the pavement. Turned out I sprained my ankle pretty badly (that’s another story, but it hurt like hell). In my pain and hobbling along, I still visited the Skydeck, just with less enthusiasm! It’s similar to that of The View from The Shard in London. You have a bit of an introduction; an elevator ascent and once you get to the top, you have 360-degree views of the city below. The Skydeck’s difference is that it has a ‘ledge’ – that’s a few boxes completely made of glass that jut out from the side of the building. You’re able to stand – pretty much unobstructed – in the sky. At 1,353 feet in the air, it’s a pretty cool view.

I follow a fair few amazing photographers from Chicago on Instagram and I was super excited to meet some of them during my trip. I have to thank them for taking the time to show me their city and their warm hospitality. They made my trip all the more special. I took home with me a whole bunch of photos, memories, as well as a sprained ankle.

All in all, Chicago is a likeable city with a super infectious attitude. There were a few spots that I didn’t get to see including Crown Fountain as it was closed for winter, and I never got time to experience the city by boat, so I guess that means I’ll be returning :-)

Granada in March...

Why Granada? Well, I wanted to tick off a sight that’s been sat on my ‘must visit places’ – The Alhambra. I admit that was my sole reason for choosing Granada, but this quirky city surprised me. It’s a unique mix of cultures with a hippy vibe. The food is great, the architecture stunning, and it’s got a great energy going on – I even got flashed at walking down a street – and yep, I’ve popped that in the memory box bank as a moment I’ll never forget about the city!

So, did the Alhambra live up to expectations? Yes, it did. I did a little research, and pre-booked my tickets. I wanted to see this gem as empty as I possibly could, given its popularity, so I booked early morning tickets. Unless you’re happy with getting up an ungodly hour to join the queues without being guaranteed entry, book ahead. If you do miss out, you can still experience parts like the Generalife Gardens, Palace of Carlos V, Central plaza, but the exterior is no match for what you’ll see inside the Palace and it's courtyard. Every corner will leave you in awe. There are few places left in Europe quite like The Alhambra, it really is architecturally beautiful, and it sure is worth having and ticking off your bucket-list.

After being dazzled by the Palace, I wandered through the Generalife gardens – no longer as peaceful as when I first arrived. I felt carefree as I slowly made my way through the gardens; sun on my face and a winter breeze. It has a tranquil feel with perfectly symmetrical pools, calm trickles of water , maze-like hedges and wild flowers and they give a feeling of walking through a secret garden.

My favourite area of the city to wander taking photos and people watching are the narrow streets of Albaicin. These quirky streets really make you feel like you’ve stepped into a completely different city. It’s a safe little area, perfect to get lost in. I found the afternoon light here gorgeous for taking photos. I remember stopping every now to look down an unassuming alleyway. The views were always impressive view; be it a view of the Alhambra, the distant mountains or the pretty tiled rooftops of the city.

I recommend that you enter Albaicin via Calle Caldereria Nueva – just off Calle Elvira. Head uphill and make your way through the lantern shops, Arabic tea rooms, little souk and restaurants. The whole city is heavily influenced by its Moorish roots; you’ll smell tagines, cous cous, hookahs and incense pretty much everywhere, which is what I loved. You were in Spain, but at times, it felt like you’d stepped into Morocco.

You can’t come to Granada without checking out a viewpoint of the city, I’d be disappointed if you did. Head to Mirador de san Nicolas from where you can view the Alhambra at any time of the day. Once I’d checked out this spot mid-morning, I knew I had to return here for sunset. Together with quite a few other visitors, a spirited busker – who set the tone for the evening – and a selfie-stick wielding throng of visitors, we all watched the sun slip behind the Sierra Nevada mountains. I recommend you get here early to claim a good spot on the wall – it’s the best seat!

One of the best things I enjoy about exploring a new place is randomly stumbling into a celebration or a local fiesta – I seem to do it quite a bit and unknowingly too which makes it even more special. Watching locals gather to walk through the cobbled streets of the city chanting prayers and lighting candles to celebrate the festival of Jesu Cristo really was a beautiful moment.

I love to wander a lot when I’m away, take my time and not overly schedule things. I enjoy the feeling of excitement when I’ve stumbled upon hidden streets and little pockets of light. There’s also that feeling of not getting over hyped up and then being disappointed if a place or building doesn’t live up to expectation. 

Winter sunshine is my favourite, and the clouds parted quite a bit for me during my days in Granada and I was treated to plenty of warm golden light before it scampered behind the clouds. Making my way to the Carrera del Darro each day had to be a highlight. As I tiptoed along the cobblestones passing the two bridges and century old houses, I felt completely charmed. It’s like wandering around a piece of history. And, even though it’s a popular street, it hasn’t lost any of its romantic appeal.

Now I love people watching, and Plaza Bib Ramla is a perfect rest spot for it. It has a somewhat Parisian style feel to it, and it’s the perfect opportunity for an ice-cream – yes, even in March. I met a lovely local guy here. I have no idea what his name was. I speak hardly any Spanish, and even though he knew this, he carried on speaking animatedly with me for a good ten minutes. Funnily enough on my last day – when I thought I was being inconspicuous taking some photos – he popped up right in front of me. He gave me a huge smile and a ‘hola’ and then continued on his way. I’m glad I got this photo of him (below) as a reminder.

Before visiting Granada, I was curiously intrigued to read about the “free food” – yes, you read right. With every drink you buy, you’ll get a free tapa on the side. It might be something like a toasted sandwich to a poached quails egg – whatever it is, it’s a little surprise and rather tasty. 

As you’d expect in a city, there are many cafés and bars, but if you love coffee – cocktails – or milkshakes, and you have to choose one place, please make a visit to Bohemia Jazz Café. You may think this place looks shut from the outside. You may even walk past, but trust me head inside is like stepping back in time to another era. There are old books, gramophones, a typewriter, black and white photos everywhere and movie posters – it’s a trip down nostalgia lane. I have a feeling, if you make a visit here on your first night, it’s pretty likely that you’ll fall in love with the interior and atmosphere of the place so much that you’ll return for another visit during your stay!

Here's a secret to Granada - well, it's not so much a secret, more a tip! If you go for a walk about early morning, there will be nobody around. 8am in Spain is like 6am in the rest of Europe. It's beautifully quiet from tourists and locals, and you'll have the city streets to yourself. 

Bologna in Februar...

So, the first city I visited this year was Bologna. I confess, I’m a little obsessed with the Italian way of life and Italy as a whole. From a young age, Italy has always fascinated me – it has a compelling air of mystery - and it’s where I’ve had most of my holidays. I remember travels with my mum to Lake Garda – we’d leave my dad and brother at home - and it’s still one of my special places.

I’m not sure what persuaded me to visit Bologna, perhaps I read about it in an Italian murder mystery book, I’m not sure…but what I do remember is my first impression of the city – it was mixed. I admit it wasn't love at first sight, but after taking a wander, it became instantly charming, and I yep, I fell in love – I always ask myself after I return home from a city “would I go back?” and “yes” is my answer to Bologna. 

Bologna’s narrow streets are lined with porticoes – some grand and others crumbling make the city feel ancient, which I love.

The city has not one, but three nicknames ‘La Dotta, La Grassa, La Rossa’. Translated these words mean ‘The educated, The fat, and The red’

La Dotta honours the university, the oldest in the western world, and still one of the most respected places to study in Italy. There are lots of students here, which make the city feel young, alive and buzzing, despite its age.

La Grassa pays homage to Bologna’s temptingly cuisine. It’s known for producing some of the most delicious food in Italy – just ask an Italian. You only have to walk along the Pescherie Vecchie street – right in the city centre – to be confronted on every corner by a tempting assortment of irresistible food choices. Seriously, if you’re a foodie, this city will delight the senses, and yes, you will pop on a few extra pounds. The famous Bolognese sauce isn’t the only thing the city has to offer up food wise. You’re also in the home of Parmesan cheese, Prosciutta ham, and a cooked ham known as "mortadella". I confess, I’m pescatarian, so I didn’t try the ham. I promise you this though, everywhere I looked, I saw young and old alike sitting at trattorias and cafés eating cold cuts from platters….and it was a little tempting! I think it’s safe to say ham is a pretty sacred meat to the Bolognese!

If you taste nothing else – ok, well apart from the gelato – be sure to try the authentic Balsamic vinegar from Modena. You’ll even find it on gelato. Suffice to say, Balsamic is liquid gold here.

I love a good food market – especially an Italian one. The buzz of the stall holders shouting to each other in Italian and me just standing there watching, brings a smile to my face now, just thinking about it. Bologna’s oldest market is a must visit with stalls selling delicious baked bread, handmade tortellini and fresh fishes well as fruit and vegetables. I don’t think you can beat the taste of fresh Italian tomatoes. If I thought I’d manage to get some home in my hand luggage, I would! 

And, lastly, La Rossa, meaning the red one. You’ll see this straight away - red buildings, crumbing walls and pretty rooftops. It also comes from the red of the Ducati motorcycles and Ferarri’sBefore you start exploring the buildings, stop in the middle of Piazza Maggiore – it’s the heart of the city where the Bolognese gather, night and day to sit, read, meet, chat with friends, and generally hang-out. It’s a really beautiful spot to take in some sights including the Palazzo Comunale, Palazzo d’Accursio, the majestic exterior of San Petronio church and Palazzo Re Enzo.

What I loved most about the city was how untouristy and uncrowded it felt. I mean, sure I saw tourists, but the locals intermingled with them, so I never really noticed them and to me that made the city feel beautifully authentic.

For me the best way to see a city is on foot – but, hey I love walking, it’s my choice of exercise - but honestly, the best way to see Bologna - and the easiest - is on foot. You’ll see so much, plus you’ll walk into unexpected streets that’ll leave you wondering about its past. 

I want to share some of my favourite spots in the city. I already touched on the heart of the action Piazza Maggiore. It’s a delightful piazza to stop, take a few photos and also to rest. Facing age-old medieval buildings including the Basilica di San Petronio and the city hall, I wandered here a few times a day whiling away time between exploring and snapping - I was lucky my hotel was ideally placed a few minutes’ walk away, so this spot was perfect for me. I’d grab a freshly baked croissant and hot cuppa for breakfast, and simply put, I watched locals start their day. The atmosphere changes throughout the day, so off I’d go for an amble and then at gelato o’clock, I’d head back = a very happy me. There are a few lovely little cafés all around the piazza and side streets serving espressos, pastries, food, gelato and good people watching, all making for a very chilled out vibe. 

My favourite afternoon was spent sitting in the sunshine at Piazza Maggiore; the beautiful carefree feeling of being in a new place with my camera ready to explore; the winter sun on my face and simply people watching the afternoon away – my idea of bliss in between taking photos.

You must, must, must climb Bologna’s Torre Asinelli degli tower – a quintessentially Bologna experience. I loved the view so much, I climbed it twice! There are two towers – Asinelli being the one you can climb and Torre Garisenda. Interesting fact, the two towers used to be interconnected with a walkway and suspended passageways running everywhere – it’s difficult to image this today when the towers now appear completely separate. The steps up to the top of the Asinelli will have you gasping for breathe a little, but the steps can be forgiven, and I promise you, the view is absolutely stunning.

The light in the city sure was special and at night street lights illuminate the city casting intriguing shadows glowing gold and orange. Evening time feels so safe to stroll about too. I was lucky to enjoy some of the most beautiful winter light I have ever experienced – I’ll never forget the light here, and nothing could have moved me from the spot below. I stayed until the sun completely disappeared. 

I remember seeing a photo of La Finestrela (above) on Instagram, and I knew I’d enjoy the mission to find it. This hidden gem – located around the Via Piella - may be a little over rated, but it’s worth the hunt to find it; you’ll find lots of hidden alleyways and streets to discover as you wander the quiet streets. You’ll also find some of the best restaurant in the area.

Bologna really is perfect for a weekend exploring. There’s plenty to see and do in the city itself. From the sights to the trattorias, gelaterias and salumerias. Plus, you’re perfectly placed too should you wish to extend your stay and visit Florence and Venice. It’s a pretty simple journey to get there - about one hour away by train.

My travels this year...

Travelling to new places has the power to transform us – if we let it. Whether we are travelling the world or even in our home town. It can take us to unexpected places; connect us to people we would never dreamed of meeting; eat food we might never have tried had we stayed at home; sample local traditions and cultures, and return home with funny stories, memories and experiences to pass on to others.

To travel can have the most effect on our lives; everything is all a little different the further we go from home. This year I made a promise to myself to travel to a city - where possible -once a month. And yes, I’ve been a lax with writing up my blogs posts and we’re into October already – I’ve tutted and cursed myself for this - but here goes, I’m making another promise to get writing about all the places I’ve travelled to and soon, and also to write up a blog as soon as I return from a city!

Barcelona in December

Last year, at the end of December I took myself off and spent a few days exploring Barcelona. I’ve been to Barcelona before a couple of years ago, but one of the things about this city is that it’s got a great mix of culture, friendly people, art and so much interesting architecture that one trip wouldn’t be enough. It even has easy access to a beach any time you like.

A highlight for me whenever I go away is simply wandering the streets and getting lost. For me it’s how I get to best soak up the atmosphere. I love people watching in any city and seeing as much of the city as I can. I never put any pressure on myself to cram in everything a city has to offer – if I don’t get around to seeing something, I like to think it’s a reason to go back :-)

Wandering and getting lost in the Gothic quarter of the city was a perfect day for me. The hidden streets and interesting architecture are perfect for getting your camera out. You can’t help but to think back to centuries past of the people who walked the same streets. The cobbled lanes and hidden alleyways hold many secrets. The area of El Born and Es Ravel were also quite simply enchanting.

I love experiencing the less touristy aspects of a city, especially if I get to see locals going about their daily life. But, you could not visit Barcelona and not visit some of Gaudi’s sights. Antonio Gaudi is responsible for dreaming up some of the most famous sights in Barcelona. I chose to visit the Sagrada Familia…..It’s incredible from the outside, but to really admire it property, you need to go in. The interior is really stunning with its stained glass windows and light fixtures.

What you can’t fail to notice in Barcelona is that there are so many quirky shops and cool bars – literally, so many bars that you’d need a good month, if not more to get around them all. Dotted all around the Gracia neighbourhood, Barrio Gothic, Ravel and El Born, you’ll find a bar to suit all age and taste and many in between. Gracia is probably one of the trendiest neighbourhoods, and it’s got a great street life vibe. I spend most evenings walking around the different districts, but I’d always end up in Gracia and Plaza del Sol where I’d sit and enjoy an ice cream.

A must visit to the La Boqueira market

Las Ramblas Barcelona, has got to be one of the world’s most famous streets!  In London they say “when a man’s tired of London, he’s tired of living” and I reckon the same could be said about this elaborate and lively boulevard which runs through the heart of Barcelona. It’s usually the first port-of-call for Barcelona tourists and when you see the sheer amount of activity crammed in, you can see why.  Many of Barcelona’s famous landmarks are situated just off Las Rambla, so it’s a great landmark to head to if you find yourself getting lost, and it really is a perfect place to sit and absorb the atmosphere.

One of my favourite places to wander around during both the day and evening was La Boqueira market. The noise, smells, life and colours made this such an interesting market. It’s one of Europe’s largest and most famous food markets, and you can literally spend hours just walking around feasting the senses and watching both locals and tourists as they buy fresh fish and sampling the myriad of dried fruit and tasty morsels that the stall holders hand out. The floors are slippery with melted ice and fruit skins, and the stall holders loud, but this all adds to the experience. You can find all food of all variety, and you can try everything from Catalan sausages, to Jamon, fresh fruit juices, tasty plates of tapas, chocolate and fruits.

My favourite spot to stop and people watch was the famous bar of El Pinotxo. Everyday I came to watch people as they queued up to utter the words “café con leche, por favour” whilst the affable and always smiling friendly owner Juanito – one of the cities best loved figures - decked out in his pressed stripped vest, waistcoat and dapper bow tie gave the thumbs up and moments later coffee was served. Everyone seemed to know Juanito and his cheeky smile. You really do need to get here early morning if you’re thinking of taking a seat to sit and eat. Always busy with locals grabbing their takeaway café con leche and tourists wanting to sit and linger, the food served here no matter the time of day looked and smelled delicious and fresh, and the pastries and coffee were a real morning treat and highly recommended!

The always smiling Juanito at El Pinotxo bar

The beach! Despite it being December and a few days before Christmas, the weather, albeit a torrential downpour on my first day – seriously it rained hard! – was pleasantly agreeable and Barceloneta Beach is a great spot to people watch and walk along the promenade – sunset from here had an almost California vibe to it.

Day trip to Sitges…If you fancy stepping outside of the city for the day, the other great thing about Barcelona is its easy to visit to other interesting day trip options. Whilst I was in Barcelona, I found out a friends’ parents were staying in Sitges, so that sealed the deal on me making the short and easy trip on the train to spend the day with them and I loved it. It’s close enough (a 30 minute train ride), but far enough to feel like you’re visiting a different part of Spain. The first stop was the beach – which is beautiful and long - and standing on the beach in the warm winter sunshine was perfect. We sat in the sun, explored parts of the old town, had a lovely lunch, and then headed to an ice cream parlour on the promenade. All-in-all a pretty perfect day, and I would so go back!

But really, unless you’re here for an extended stay in the city (and lucky you, if you are) it’s impossible to see everything in Barcelona. I didn’t make it to Parc Guell, so my next trip to Barcelona will for sure this famous landmark, and take the trip to Monserrat too!

The beach!

My dream destinations…

This is a difficult one and it changes almost daily as there are so many places I want to visit. Basically, I want to visit everywhere! Here are my top 5 destinations (right now) and in no particular order (although the first one will always remain at the top of my list).

1)    Iran – this country will forever hold a special place in my heart as part of me belongs there. My dad is Iranian and for as long as I can remember it’s somewhere that I really longed to visit. I’m hoping that one day I’ll see where my dad's family live and where he grew up as a little boy. My brother and I have listened to so many of our dad's childhood stories and I long to see them come to life, as well as explore the history, intricate mosques, stunning landscape, and meet the beautifully friendly people. Oh and to pluck pomegranates fresh from the tress just like dad did as a little child and enjoy the delicious Iranian food too!

2)    Jordan – so many things about this country appeal to me. From the architectural detail and the kaleidoscope of colours of the sacred structure at The Red Rose City, Petra to the mountains, monuments and tombs, plus the food, weather, floating in the Dead Sea and yes, sleeping in a Bedouin tent under the stars – it all sounds so magical and incredible, and I want to see it all for myself.

3)    Chefchaouen – oh, this city nestled in Morocco has been on my list for so long. An entire city that’s blue. How could you not fall in love with that! I’m not sure how I’ll be able to stop myself from a) being super excited the whole time I was there and b) taking photos. I might have to buy a few (at least 20) more memory cards just to document this city.

4)    Cuba – for a long time I’ve fantasied about walking down the Malecon of this soulful and quintessential Cuban thoroughfares before being interrupted from my daydream by a happy smiling Cuban – cigar in one hand and a bottle of rum by his feet – surrounded by his friends playing trombones, tubas and trumpets strumming to the beat of a drum. I picture my time filled with days wandering around the busy atmospheric streets, the unmistakable aromas of tropical papaya mixed with tobacco leaf and a permanent smile on my face as I giddily take photo after photo of the happy locals; snapshots of their lives lived out in the open, colourful houses, and of course the classic cars. I can just imagine myself getting caught up in the romanticism of this dynamic and robust culture…oh and the music too!

5)    Tanzania – this county wasn’t on my hit list until I started following a couple of beautiful accounts on Instagram @sam.vox and @stickylittleleaves. Seeing little snippets of daily life unfold, the colours, charm, warmth and dignity of the people. The soft beautiful light and almost every scene caught me immediately. I feel like I’ve fallen in love with the country and the people before I’ve even visited. I’m hoping one day I’ll get there to see it all for myself. Yes, I’d love to go on a safari, enjoy a hot air balloon ride at sunrise and experience the exuberance and colour of the spice island Zanzibar. But, what I’m also massively intrigued by is getting to know the people and to watch life unfold...and to drink tea!