Photos, photos, photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=244422&id=510568119&l=38e21c53c2
After more than 12 months on the road, a couple of weeks back home for our friends' wedding sounded like an eminently relaxing way to break up the journey to Australia. It probably would have been too, had we just spent a couple of weeks at home and gone to the wedding. But travelling must have become more of a habit than we realised, as before we knew what we were doing we were traversing the country from London to Teesside, to Manchester, to Birmingham, to West Sussex, back to Teesside, then to Birmingham and down to London again just in time for our 26 hour journey to Melbourne.
Relaxing it may not always have been, but as the photos will attest it was a lot of fun. Whilst we didn't have time to catch up with everyone we would've liked to, we did manage to fit in some quality time with the family, day trips to Whitby (with the requisite fish and chips pit-stop), and York (with the requisite visit to the Yorvik Viking Centre), an introduction to Rich's new baby cousin, a quintessentially English BBQ in the rain (where we discovered the culinary delight that is barbecued jam donuts), my dad's birthday celebrations, a highly entertaining attempt at the fitness trail in Guisborough Woods, boozy shenanigans in the capital, an excellent wedding and a significant amount of reacquainting ourselves with such great British foodstuffs as the Sunday roast, the jaffa cake and the Greggs' cheese pasty. It's good to be home.
Wednesday, 6 October 2010
Monday, 4 October 2010
Restless in Rio
Photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=244417&id=510568119&l=66f8fa628b
And so we came to the final stop in phase one of our Grand Adventure. From Iguassu we flew to Rio, where we planned to spend a few days before heading back to the UK. We checked into an amazing guesthouse run by a young Brazilian couple, Juliana and Wesley, arriving late on a Friday evening to find a lively barbeque in full swing. After dropping our bags in our room we joined the party and were soon up to our elbows in barbequed meat, the best caipirinhas I've ever tasted and another Brazilian specialty - galinha do coracao or chicken hearts. After a couple of the caipirinhas and much encouragement from our hosts and fellow guests I gave one a go and can report that they are both chewy and extremely tasty.
After this excellent introduction, Rio itself was not such a resounding success. We visited Copacabana and Ipanema, taking in both of the neighbourhoods' famous beaches, but were somewhat underwhelmed by both. We checked out the city centre, including the enormous (and rather dark) conical cathedral and the bustling market, but sadly the Cristo Redentor statue was un-visitable due to recent landslides. We did, however, manage to fit in a football match at the Maracana stadium (watching, not playing, obviously) complete with a performance by the resident brass band.
Unfortunately, the most memorable part of our stay in Rio was the part where we tried to leave. Good old volcano Eyjafjallajokull had been causing problems for weeks before we were due to fly home, but just the day before our flight the UK airports were back to normal and things were looking good across Europe. Except in parts of Portugal, where on the morning of our flight several airports were closed. Of course, this wouldn't have been a problem unless we were flying home via Portugal. Which, of course, we were. So began a delightful 12 hours of being on hold to the airline, queuing at Rio International airport, cancelled flights, rescheduled flights, never-really-cancelled-in-the-first-place flights, delayed flights and, happily, a transfer onto a direct British Airways flight preceded by a complimentary 3 course meal. We arrived at Heathrow 11 hours later tired but happy (and extremely relieved).
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=244417&id=510568119&l=66f8fa628b
And so we came to the final stop in phase one of our Grand Adventure. From Iguassu we flew to Rio, where we planned to spend a few days before heading back to the UK. We checked into an amazing guesthouse run by a young Brazilian couple, Juliana and Wesley, arriving late on a Friday evening to find a lively barbeque in full swing. After dropping our bags in our room we joined the party and were soon up to our elbows in barbequed meat, the best caipirinhas I've ever tasted and another Brazilian specialty - galinha do coracao or chicken hearts. After a couple of the caipirinhas and much encouragement from our hosts and fellow guests I gave one a go and can report that they are both chewy and extremely tasty.
After this excellent introduction, Rio itself was not such a resounding success. We visited Copacabana and Ipanema, taking in both of the neighbourhoods' famous beaches, but were somewhat underwhelmed by both. We checked out the city centre, including the enormous (and rather dark) conical cathedral and the bustling market, but sadly the Cristo Redentor statue was un-visitable due to recent landslides. We did, however, manage to fit in a football match at the Maracana stadium (watching, not playing, obviously) complete with a performance by the resident brass band.
Unfortunately, the most memorable part of our stay in Rio was the part where we tried to leave. Good old volcano Eyjafjallajokull had been causing problems for weeks before we were due to fly home, but just the day before our flight the UK airports were back to normal and things were looking good across Europe. Except in parts of Portugal, where on the morning of our flight several airports were closed. Of course, this wouldn't have been a problem unless we were flying home via Portugal. Which, of course, we were. So began a delightful 12 hours of being on hold to the airline, queuing at Rio International airport, cancelled flights, rescheduled flights, never-really-cancelled-in-the-first-place flights, delayed flights and, happily, a transfer onto a direct British Airways flight preceded by a complimentary 3 course meal. We arrived at Heathrow 11 hours later tired but happy (and extremely relieved).
Tuesday, 28 September 2010
The Most Beautiful Place in the World (except Redcar, obviously)
Pictures of paradise:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=243152&id=510568119&l=1faaa8caae
I've been lucky enough to visit a lot of amazing places on my travels, but Iguassu Falls on the Argentine/Brazilian border is easily the most breathtakingly amazing place I have ever been. Tucked away in the middle of sub-tropical rainforest, Iguassu Falls are in fact 275 waterfalls stretching some 1.5 miles - at one point your field of vision is completely filled by a 260 degree panorama of cascades. With a lush jungle backdrop, water thundering all around you, rainbows in the mist and clouds of colourful butterflies the scene is like something out of a fairytale. Even Rich, who'd had to endure weeks of me banging on about the incredibleness of Las Cataratas del Iguazú, admitted that they more than lived up to the hype.
All of this makes me wonder why so few people know the falls even exist. (I certainly didn't until I first arrived in Argentina and was told I shouldn't leave the country until I'd seen them). It's a complete mystery to me, especially considering the celebrity of Niagra which I visited last year and which is as impressive as a bathroom shower by comparison. If I ruled the world I would make sure everyone got to visit Iguassu at least once in their lives. If you have any inclination to go anywhere near South America get yourself to the falls - if you don't like it I'll drive you to the optician's myself.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=243152&id=510568119&l=1faaa8caae
I've been lucky enough to visit a lot of amazing places on my travels, but Iguassu Falls on the Argentine/Brazilian border is easily the most breathtakingly amazing place I have ever been. Tucked away in the middle of sub-tropical rainforest, Iguassu Falls are in fact 275 waterfalls stretching some 1.5 miles - at one point your field of vision is completely filled by a 260 degree panorama of cascades. With a lush jungle backdrop, water thundering all around you, rainbows in the mist and clouds of colourful butterflies the scene is like something out of a fairytale. Even Rich, who'd had to endure weeks of me banging on about the incredibleness of Las Cataratas del Iguazú, admitted that they more than lived up to the hype.
All of this makes me wonder why so few people know the falls even exist. (I certainly didn't until I first arrived in Argentina and was told I shouldn't leave the country until I'd seen them). It's a complete mystery to me, especially considering the celebrity of Niagra which I visited last year and which is as impressive as a bathroom shower by comparison. If I ruled the world I would make sure everyone got to visit Iguassu at least once in their lives. If you have any inclination to go anywhere near South America get yourself to the falls - if you don't like it I'll drive you to the optician's myself.
Sunday, 12 September 2010
The Day of the Gnocchi
Photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=200358&id=510568119&l=019e478485
Other than a "classic" Homerism remembered by my Simpson's-obsessed boyfriend, I didn't know very much at all about Uruguay. To be honest, I can't be sure I didn't think it was somewhere in Africa... However, the lure of the new passport stamp meant we couldn't pass up a quick trip to the country, especially as it's only an hour long ferry trip away from Buenos Aires.
As it turns out, Uruguay is a really lovely place. First stop on our whistlestop tour was the UNESCO world heritage site of Colonia del Sacramento. It's picturesque cobbled streets, artsy shops and rustic seaside eateries made for an excellent place to while away a day after the hustle and bustle of BA. We then spent a couple of nights in the capital, Montevideo, home of the first ever football world cup and, it transpires, a promenade uncannily similar to the one in Redcar (see photos). We also experienced the monthly Day of the Gnocchi, on which it is customary to eat the small potato and flour dumplings and almost every restaurant in the country is clamouring to serve you them. This worked out well, as Rich and I are both big fans of the dish and they're cheap as chips. The trip ended with a relaxing ferry ride back to Argentina, marred only by Rich's annoyance at the fact that our arrival, and the abrupt switching off of the on-board entertainment, coincided with a penalty in the football match he had been watching. My observation that it was an achievement just to be watching live football on a ferry in South America did not have the desired consolatory effect...
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=200358&id=510568119&l=019e478485
Other than a "classic" Homerism remembered by my Simpson's-obsessed boyfriend, I didn't know very much at all about Uruguay. To be honest, I can't be sure I didn't think it was somewhere in Africa... However, the lure of the new passport stamp meant we couldn't pass up a quick trip to the country, especially as it's only an hour long ferry trip away from Buenos Aires.
As it turns out, Uruguay is a really lovely place. First stop on our whistlestop tour was the UNESCO world heritage site of Colonia del Sacramento. It's picturesque cobbled streets, artsy shops and rustic seaside eateries made for an excellent place to while away a day after the hustle and bustle of BA. We then spent a couple of nights in the capital, Montevideo, home of the first ever football world cup and, it transpires, a promenade uncannily similar to the one in Redcar (see photos). We also experienced the monthly Day of the Gnocchi, on which it is customary to eat the small potato and flour dumplings and almost every restaurant in the country is clamouring to serve you them. This worked out well, as Rich and I are both big fans of the dish and they're cheap as chips. The trip ended with a relaxing ferry ride back to Argentina, marred only by Rich's annoyance at the fact that our arrival, and the abrupt switching off of the on-board entertainment, coincided with a penalty in the football match he had been watching. My observation that it was an achievement just to be watching live football on a ferry in South America did not have the desired consolatory effect...
Saturday, 11 September 2010
Return to Buenos Aires
Photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=200345&id=510568119&l=310f15c9dd
I first visited Buenos Aires a few years ago and I've been looking forward to coming back ever since. Putting this entry's photo album together I was surprised that the pictures aren't more colourful and vibrant as that's how I've always remembered the city, but maybe seeing it as part of this longer trip has altered my perspective. Don't get me wrong, I still love BA - it's European elegance infused with the Latin American spirit and the seedy passion of the tango make it the most intriguing city I've ever visited. But looking at the place through more cycnical, travel hardened eyes, I realised with some disappointment that a fair bit of what I thought was the "Buenos Aires experience" is cleverly cultivated for the tourists. Yes, the Caminito is a riot of colour and spectacle with its multi-hued buildings and tango dancers on every corner, but it's also the Argentinian equivalent of the Tower of London - great for the tourists, but not really representative of the rest of the city...
But what am I being so negative for? Sure there are touristy elements to BA, but I for one loved the seedy glamour of the tango shows, being spooked by all the cats in the gloriously Gothic Recoleta cemetery and sipping lemon soda in Cafe Tortoni. And I got to see a bit of the other side of things as well, joining the crazy die-hard fans at a Boca Juniors game and sampling the finest steak I have ever tasted in the company of BA's business lunchers.
In fact, we got so caught up in all things Porteño that we ended up not only watching tango shows but learning a few steps ourselves. My plan before we got to BA was to impress Rich with the moves of some professional dancers before suggesting that maybe with a few lessons we too could be gliding across the floor looking all sultry and impressive. Unfortunately, the show I picked was something of a let down - the dancing was awful and at one stage the girls were prancing round a darkened stage clad in battery operated flashing feather bowers. Not the sexy, sophisticated look I was going for. Not to be deterred, I booked us into a show at El Viejo Almacen, where I fell in love with the tango during my first trip to the city and where I knew the dancers would be top notch. They didn't let me down, as you can see for yourself:
Suitably inspired, we found ourselves a milonga that also gave lessons to beginners and booked ourselves in. Unfortunately, it was only when the lesson began that we remembered we were in a Spanish speaking country and the milonga we had chosen was for locals rather than tourists. This made for an entertaining couple of hours as our flamboyant cliche of a Latin American tango instructor resorted to manhandling us into the right positions and gesturing wildly that our movements needed to "flow more." After the lesson we caught our breath and watched some couples who were slightly past their first lesson strut their stuff on the dancefloor. I reckon with a few more sessions (in English) we could get the hang of it, and it was a lot of fun. Rich has tentatively agreed to sign up for a course when we get back to the UK so watch this space...
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=200345&id=510568119&l=310f15c9dd
I first visited Buenos Aires a few years ago and I've been looking forward to coming back ever since. Putting this entry's photo album together I was surprised that the pictures aren't more colourful and vibrant as that's how I've always remembered the city, but maybe seeing it as part of this longer trip has altered my perspective. Don't get me wrong, I still love BA - it's European elegance infused with the Latin American spirit and the seedy passion of the tango make it the most intriguing city I've ever visited. But looking at the place through more cycnical, travel hardened eyes, I realised with some disappointment that a fair bit of what I thought was the "Buenos Aires experience" is cleverly cultivated for the tourists. Yes, the Caminito is a riot of colour and spectacle with its multi-hued buildings and tango dancers on every corner, but it's also the Argentinian equivalent of the Tower of London - great for the tourists, but not really representative of the rest of the city...
But what am I being so negative for? Sure there are touristy elements to BA, but I for one loved the seedy glamour of the tango shows, being spooked by all the cats in the gloriously Gothic Recoleta cemetery and sipping lemon soda in Cafe Tortoni. And I got to see a bit of the other side of things as well, joining the crazy die-hard fans at a Boca Juniors game and sampling the finest steak I have ever tasted in the company of BA's business lunchers.
In fact, we got so caught up in all things Porteño that we ended up not only watching tango shows but learning a few steps ourselves. My plan before we got to BA was to impress Rich with the moves of some professional dancers before suggesting that maybe with a few lessons we too could be gliding across the floor looking all sultry and impressive. Unfortunately, the show I picked was something of a let down - the dancing was awful and at one stage the girls were prancing round a darkened stage clad in battery operated flashing feather bowers. Not the sexy, sophisticated look I was going for. Not to be deterred, I booked us into a show at El Viejo Almacen, where I fell in love with the tango during my first trip to the city and where I knew the dancers would be top notch. They didn't let me down, as you can see for yourself:
Suitably inspired, we found ourselves a milonga that also gave lessons to beginners and booked ourselves in. Unfortunately, it was only when the lesson began that we remembered we were in a Spanish speaking country and the milonga we had chosen was for locals rather than tourists. This made for an entertaining couple of hours as our flamboyant cliche of a Latin American tango instructor resorted to manhandling us into the right positions and gesturing wildly that our movements needed to "flow more." After the lesson we caught our breath and watched some couples who were slightly past their first lesson strut their stuff on the dancefloor. I reckon with a few more sessions (in English) we could get the hang of it, and it was a lot of fun. Rich has tentatively agreed to sign up for a course when we get back to the UK so watch this space...
Sunday, 29 August 2010
Vineyards and Royal Suites - Turning 29 in Style
Photos:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=200340&id=510568119&l=5984047958
We crossed into Argentina just a few days before my birthday, and what better way to celebrate the last birthday of your 20s than to get in some practice for being a sophisticated 30-something and touring a Mendozan vineyard. We set off bright and early with our tour guide and fellow wine-tasters, calling at Finca Flichman Luigi Bosca and Catena Zapata wineries for an introduction to the art of winemaking, and local specialty Malbec, followed by the all-important tasting sessions. Half way through we stopped for an epic lunch (with more wine, of course), at Cava de Cano. Needless to say, by the end of the tour we were both slightly less ignorant about viticulture and slightly less sober... We also celebrated my cumpleaños with a delicious parrilla, another Argentinian specialty of barbequed steak, morcilla (blood sausage) and chorizo. And some more Malbec, of course.
After spending a leisurely few days in Mendoza we set off for Rosario - a city some 500 miles, or 10 hours away. Carrying on the birthday celebrations for as long as possible we decided to treat ourselves to the luxury version of bus travel - the Royal Suite. For the princely sum of thirty English pounds, we were provided with pre-dinner drinks and snacks, a three course hot meal complete with wine, an after dinner glass of bubbly, a film played on our own personal plasma screen TV and the pièce de résistance: a fully reclining leather armchair and footrest that combined to create a surprisingly comfortable full length bed. We slept for a whole 8 hours before being woken the next morning just in time to be served out hot breakfast before arriving in Rosario. The only downside to the experience is that I may never be able to bring myself to take a non-luxury nightbus again...
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=200340&id=510568119&l=5984047958
We crossed into Argentina just a few days before my birthday, and what better way to celebrate the last birthday of your 20s than to get in some practice for being a sophisticated 30-something and touring a Mendozan vineyard. We set off bright and early with our tour guide and fellow wine-tasters, calling at Finca Flichman Luigi Bosca and Catena Zapata wineries for an introduction to the art of winemaking, and local specialty Malbec, followed by the all-important tasting sessions. Half way through we stopped for an epic lunch (with more wine, of course), at Cava de Cano. Needless to say, by the end of the tour we were both slightly less ignorant about viticulture and slightly less sober... We also celebrated my cumpleaños with a delicious parrilla, another Argentinian specialty of barbequed steak, morcilla (blood sausage) and chorizo. And some more Malbec, of course.
After spending a leisurely few days in Mendoza we set off for Rosario - a city some 500 miles, or 10 hours away. Carrying on the birthday celebrations for as long as possible we decided to treat ourselves to the luxury version of bus travel - the Royal Suite. For the princely sum of thirty English pounds, we were provided with pre-dinner drinks and snacks, a three course hot meal complete with wine, an after dinner glass of bubbly, a film played on our own personal plasma screen TV and the pièce de résistance: a fully reclining leather armchair and footrest that combined to create a surprisingly comfortable full length bed. We slept for a whole 8 hours before being woken the next morning just in time to be served out hot breakfast before arriving in Rosario. The only downside to the experience is that I may never be able to bring myself to take a non-luxury nightbus again...
Thursday, 5 August 2010
A New Day, a New Continent
Photos here:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=193845&id=510568119&l=086bc2b927
I had a brilliant time in Central America, but I have to admit arriving in Santiago, Chile, was a breath of fresh air. It was like stepping into a Latin American version of Europe - suddenly we could buy red wine and pesto in the supermarket, tram and bus networks ran through the streets according to timetables and for the first time in months it felt like we were in a vibrant, fully fledged city. This was particularly impressive given that Santiago had suffered a massive earthquake just weeks earlier - the only evidence of it was the occasional dramatic crack in the facade of a building and otherwise everything seemed to be business as usual.
Compounding my happiness was the abundance of amazing empanadas, the ubiquitous South American pastie. The grandfather of all empanadas, the pino, is a steaming pastry pocket of mince, olive and hard boiled egg. Yum. Less successful were my samplings of the local beverages "Bilz" and "Pap." You can gauge my reaction to these appropriately named delicacies in the photo album.
We spent several happy days exploring the city, sipping lattes in sidewalk cafes, mooching around art galleries and funky boutiques and eating candy floss in our local park. A particular highlight was Cerro Santa Lucia - a leafy, landscaped hill adorned with Italian-esque fountains and curving staircases that sits in the heart of Santiago and offers excellent views across the city to the looming Andes mountain range beyond. We also went along to a Copa Libertadores game, which apparently is the South American version of the Champions League. Happily, both the football and the singing from the fans was infinitely more entertaining than in Guatemala.
Next stop was the faded seaside glamour of the port town Valparaiso. Named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2003, "Valpo" is a unique city, but one that divides opinion. It's been described as down at heel and rough around the edges, but for me that only adds to its roguish Bohemian charm. Away from the naval port and the bustling commercial centre, funicular elevators creak up into the city's hills, where steep labyrinthine streets are lined with brightly coloured houses and even more brightly coloured murals. The original murals, painted by students from the Art Institute of the University of Valparaiso in the late 1960s, are collectively known as the Museo a Cielo Abierto - the "open sky museum." Today there are murals all over the city - so many in fact that after the first hour of excited photo snapping Rich admitted defeat and went for a coffee while I finished my architectural photoshoot. He soon cheered up when we sat down to sample Valparaiso's speciality, Chorillana, a veritable mountain of french fries smothered in fried onions, pork, egg and cheese. You can catch a glimpse of this culinary monster in the photo album, and yes, we did eat it all.
Sadly we were struggling for time in Chile and it wasn''t long before we needed to head for Argentina. We spent our last night admiring the fleet of tall ships with their masts lit up like Christmas trees that were lined up along the docks as part of Chile's bicentennial celebrations. Chile, we'll be back.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=193845&id=510568119&l=086bc2b927
I had a brilliant time in Central America, but I have to admit arriving in Santiago, Chile, was a breath of fresh air. It was like stepping into a Latin American version of Europe - suddenly we could buy red wine and pesto in the supermarket, tram and bus networks ran through the streets according to timetables and for the first time in months it felt like we were in a vibrant, fully fledged city. This was particularly impressive given that Santiago had suffered a massive earthquake just weeks earlier - the only evidence of it was the occasional dramatic crack in the facade of a building and otherwise everything seemed to be business as usual.
Compounding my happiness was the abundance of amazing empanadas, the ubiquitous South American pastie. The grandfather of all empanadas, the pino, is a steaming pastry pocket of mince, olive and hard boiled egg. Yum. Less successful were my samplings of the local beverages "Bilz" and "Pap." You can gauge my reaction to these appropriately named delicacies in the photo album.
We spent several happy days exploring the city, sipping lattes in sidewalk cafes, mooching around art galleries and funky boutiques and eating candy floss in our local park. A particular highlight was Cerro Santa Lucia - a leafy, landscaped hill adorned with Italian-esque fountains and curving staircases that sits in the heart of Santiago and offers excellent views across the city to the looming Andes mountain range beyond. We also went along to a Copa Libertadores game, which apparently is the South American version of the Champions League. Happily, both the football and the singing from the fans was infinitely more entertaining than in Guatemala.
Next stop was the faded seaside glamour of the port town Valparaiso. Named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2003, "Valpo" is a unique city, but one that divides opinion. It's been described as down at heel and rough around the edges, but for me that only adds to its roguish Bohemian charm. Away from the naval port and the bustling commercial centre, funicular elevators creak up into the city's hills, where steep labyrinthine streets are lined with brightly coloured houses and even more brightly coloured murals. The original murals, painted by students from the Art Institute of the University of Valparaiso in the late 1960s, are collectively known as the Museo a Cielo Abierto - the "open sky museum." Today there are murals all over the city - so many in fact that after the first hour of excited photo snapping Rich admitted defeat and went for a coffee while I finished my architectural photoshoot. He soon cheered up when we sat down to sample Valparaiso's speciality, Chorillana, a veritable mountain of french fries smothered in fried onions, pork, egg and cheese. You can catch a glimpse of this culinary monster in the photo album, and yes, we did eat it all.
Sadly we were struggling for time in Chile and it wasn''t long before we needed to head for Argentina. We spent our last night admiring the fleet of tall ships with their masts lit up like Christmas trees that were lined up along the docks as part of Chile's bicentennial celebrations. Chile, we'll be back.
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