Category Archives: A Traveller’s Life

Ma’a salama…

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My week in Abu Dhabi is at an end and in just a few short hours I’ll be jetting back to London. My carry on bag is just waiting to be closed and I’m making the most of still having my room tonight (even though I won’t be sleeping in it) to tap out an end-of-holiday post – my goodbye to Abu Dhabi.


I sat on the restaurant terrace earlier tonight, Apple Martini in hand and desert sunset before me marvelling at how much there had been to enjoy this week despite not venturing very far afield. (I’ve limited my daily excursions to breakfast – beach – sunset with cocktail – dinner and lots of lovely reading in between.) Yet every day has been different with something new to notice, to admire, to hear, to read (the count is four and a half books – although that may be five by the time I arrive home – and two magazines)…and to drink.

Whether this could be counted as a Gidday Armchair Tour I am not so sure but in any case here’s a little homage to my time in Abu Dhabi for your enjoyment.

It was an Apple Martini tonight but there have been both a Long Island Iced Tea and a Singapore Sling in the mix too.
The view from room 703 at The Traders on morning number one – I couldn’t wait to get down to that private beach…
...and it was front and centre (with a bit of shade) for a whole six days.

During my morning meanderings I found a few interesting things to admire/marvel at…

The Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque (didn’t visit but a lovely view!) – the several-times-daily call to prayer was hauntingly beautiful.
A shisha shack…reminded me of the hookah-smoking caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland.
A rockin’ sound system… (okay sorry about that)
…and a quirky rescue point.
And speaking of admire, what’s a beach holiday without a few sunsets…
The locals were welcoming everywhere I went but I just loved this ghost-like image in the doorway of the hotel lobby…

And last but not least, just to prove I was really there, a footprint in the sand (and clever advertising that has really left it’s mark)…

So all there is left to do is log off, close my case, pay the bill and bid Abu Dhabi a fond farewell. Hope you’ve enjoyed it vicariously even a smidgen as much as I did being here.

Ma’a salama!

Little Things…

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Yesterday I got on plane (yes another one) and headed south east for a week of wallowing in Abu Dhabi.

Abu where (or why) many of you may be saying.

Abu Dhabi is the capital of the United Arab Emirates, a tiny country near the tip of the Arabian peninsula overlooking the Persian Gulf. It is a little under 8 hours flight time away from London and as to what I’m doing here, at this time of year day time temperatures average between 28-30C, I am in serious need of some sunbeams and there was a ripper of a deal.

So enough of the background. Let’s get to the point of my story.

I arrived last night at around 9pm and after making my way though the cacophony of the terminal and spending more than an hour shuffling with the rest of the queue through passport control, I found my ‘pre-booked transfer’ man and was duly on my way to the hotel in the lovely leather back seat of a white Audi. With a driver that sensed I was too tired to chat.

A little thing, but nonetheless appreciated.

My room is lovely and spacious – on the 7th floor overlooking the lights (at night) and the white sands of the private beach (during the day). The Traders Hotel, Qaryat Al Beri is a 4 star hotel and yet there is a robe, slippers, a gigantic bed with an assortment of pillows and a fully equipped bathroom: when I say fully equipped I mean not just the requisite toilet and basin but also a bidet, a big bath and a separate shower (not a shower over a bath).

I also found two complimentary bottles of water on the bedside table – these are rarely complimentary or offered (versus being asked for) in multiples – and there are both English (3-prong) and European (2-pin) plugs in the room. 

A further 3 bottles of water have been left in my room today. Oh and the wi-fi is everywhere, fast and completely free.

Such small attentive details create such lovely looked-after moments, don’t they?

After the haunting sounds of the Muslim call to prayer echoed across the hazy dawn sky this morning, it was off to explore the breakfast buffet and not only did I have a delicious, freshly cooked omelet but there was also turkey bacon. Yes turkey bacon – these things are of great significance when you don’t eat red meat. I do have turkey bacon at home but have not seen it anywhere on my travels so this was such a rare and happy find.

A post-breakfast stroll along the paved and scrupulously tidy boardwalk took me past several of the Shangri-La residences in the complex, the marina and into the souk. I’ll wander in the other direction tomorrow – apparently there’s a day spa nearby.

And then it was time to hit the beach. Free water (another 2 bottles) in a little esky was duly delivered along with 2 big towels to my sunlounger of choice. A further and even larger towel was wrapped over the mattress with the offer to replace this later in the afternoon. And I was about 10 steps away from a cooling, salty swim.

Little things people, it takes such little things to make me happy. 

I can hear the wailing call to prayer as I sit here wrapped in my borrowed robe typing away. The lights are appearing in the dark night sky and with Day 1 under my belt, I’m already feeling loose-limbed, sunkissed and deliciously relaxed. 

As-salamu alaykum (السلام عليكم) is the traditional Arabic greeting here and while it is used as ‘hello’, it actually translates as ‘peace be upon you’.  And I can confirm peeps that yes, peace is definitely what is happening up here on the 7th floor.

I can see nothing for it but to repeat the whole luscious process tomorrow.

Ma’a ssalama…
(See you soon…)

On Bored Shopping…

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Over the past year I have broadened my travel horizons to include several domestic flights in the USA and thus have discovered the delights of SkyMall. SkyMall is a quarterly magazine that can be found in the seat pockets on the majority of US domestic flights and allows passengers to shop online for a wide variety of items.

Having spent some time in airline retail during my career, I decided to have a flick through to see how things worked on the other side of the pond. Not for American passengers the high notes of the latest fragrances, the glittering array of designer watches and jewellery and the select range of premium travel accessories that I am used to considering in flight. No, you can buy a whole lot of other stuff on SkyMall. 

Where do I start?  

There’s furniture, lots of furniture – lamps, shelves, couches, tables, collapsible beds, bedroom suites and even a bidet sprayer for your bathroom (although I am not sure that this qualifies so much as furniture). 

There are various brands of shape wear to help you hold your ‘bits’ in a more preferred position. There are items designed to remedy everything from bad breath and skin tags to plantar fasciitis and sleep apnea. And there’s even a whole swag of stuff for your pets – 291 items in fact.

I had a bit of time on my hands while they were de-icing the various planes I sat on a few weeks back so I got to know this chaotic catalogue quite well and thought I’d share a few of my favourites with you.

Mounted Squirrel Head – $24.95.

Yes I know. It’s a rather random choice to begin with. But it did remind me of all of us sitting around waiting, waiting, waiting for flights to arrive and depart. There were a few faces in the boarding queues that looked a lot like this.

Write On Travel Map – $149.95


I love this. It combines my two of my great passions – scribbling and dreaming. Dreaming about where I might like to go next in the world and scribbling stuff down so I don’t forget that I thought about it in the first place. However it does seem that the little people of this world may be consigned to exploring the Southern hemisphere only.

Talking Dog Collar – $29.95


You record a message on the dog collar and activate it remotely – and you can change the message as often as you like. A day at the park suddenly took on a whole new lustre and I had a little chortle at the prospect of unsettling passers-by with a little pooch chatter, a bit like the old Candid Camera shows. I could see myself enjoying this for hours and hours…if I had a dog.

Hawaiian JellysTM – $39.95


There were a few offerings throughout the catalogue that claimed to ease a range of foot ailments (a particular bug bear of mine) but the range of Hawaiian JellysTM got my vote for sheer inventiveness. You could start with the tropical – Papaya, Mango, Lychee, Dragon Fruit or Coconut – branch out into a little Mysore Raspberry or Chuo Ume Plum or even scale new heights with Kilauea Volcano or Aouli Sky. America, land of the free and home of the endless choice.

40″ Foldable Photo Studio – $199.95


We actually have something similar in the office and it saves a whole lot of bother when it comes to getting product shots done. Might be a little more difficult to do head shots though.

Speaking of head shots I just had to show you this one.

The Zombie of Montclaire Moors – $99.95

Why? Just why would anyone buy this?

Or this for that matter.

SPAM Costume – $70.76


(Although after a few more hours sitting on planes I may have done just about anything to relieve the boredom!)

And last but not least there was a myriad of t-shirts on offer – these were just a few that made me laugh out loud.

(Seattle-A please note the pink box top right, my new mantra for life.)

So this is how I spend my time travelling…marvelling at the weird and wonderful and generally just keeping myself amused. 

After all, there’s only so much ‘cultural exploration’ a girl can take.

Image Source: all images are taken directly from the SkyMall.com website.

Yellow Peril…

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In my last post I mentioned that I’d been travelling in the USA and one of the rare delights of hanging about (for hours!) in airport terminals is browsing through the local portfolio of magazines. The New Yorker is a bit of a fave so that’s found its way into my reading pile again. But I’ve uncovered a new candidate for my affections – Mental Floss – and having recently discovered their witty snippets on twitter (@mental_floss), I was delighted to find the magazine on the newsstand and spent part of my time Seattle-bound, devouring its pages.

Anyway this leads to the point of this post – flowers. In particular, yellow flowers. And not because it’s Valentine’s Day. 

(I’m a bit bah-humbug about Valentine’s Day and would much prefer to receive protestations of love all year ’round.)

No, it’s because I have just purchased my first daffodils of 2014.


This is a bunch from a prior year as mine haven’t bloomed yet. However I expect to get up tomorrow morning and seeing bright bobbing blossoms emerging from their green buds.

Sigh!

I do find such happiness in a simple (and inexpensive) bunch of cheerful daffs.

But according to Mental Floss, when it comes to a splash of golden colour, it’s not always sunshine and roses daffodils. In fact it could be downright perilous.

In Japan, a bunch of yellow flowers means ‘I’m jealous’ so green with envy seems not to apply in the land of the rising sun. In Peru, it’s a declaration of hatred while in Russia, the message is ‘let’s break up’, not exactly what you’d want to receive at any time of the year let alone on the 14th of February. 

But yellow flowers need not always be a declaration of your lack of affection. According to Mental Floss, if you are in Mexico, scattering marigolds over someone’s grave means ‘come back to Earth and visit me’…

Marigolds decorate this grave to encourage the soul to rise again

So on this St Valentine’s Day, if you’ve planned to say it with flowers, choosing yellow may not be the floral tribute your heart’s desire is looking for.

However, my source informs me that daffodils mean rebirth and new beginnings, regard and chivalry and ‘you’re the only one’.

So if I’m your ‘one’ – or even one of a special ‘few’ – you can feel free to send me some of these golden yellow trumpets any time of the year.

A Town Called Snohomish…

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I have been travelling this week and with work taking me to the US of A for a few days of meetings, I decided to add a few days more and pay a visit to Team-M in Seattle. 

It’s been eight months since I last saw Seattle-A and all of her boys and while I turned up ready for an intensive cuddle top up, as far as the little dudes went, well young memories are not so long it seems and it’s taken few hours before screaming and suspicious looks were replaced by a cuddle (O) and cheeky grin or two (R).

Today was crisp, cold and clear so we bundled everyone into the car and headed off to the small historic township of Snohomish. Yes, it is a real town, founded in the mid-1800s with a population of less than 10,000 people (2010 census). 

Anyway I felt the afternoon was already looking promising when we crossed paths with this Waffle Wagon on the way there…

…so as soon as we arrived it was off to the Snohomish Bakery for a spot of lunch.


We then meandered down the main street, lined with antique shops and stores exhorting passersby to ‘buy local’. The flat-fronted buildings really gave it an old frontier town feel and I particularly liked these two.

A short stroll off the Main Street gave us a different perspective on the town, surrounded as it was by stark and beautifully pristine scenery…

...while this totem by the water presumably gave a nod to the local Native American tribe, sdoh-doh-hohsh, for whom the township was named.

And just as we were heading back to the car, we came across the Snohomish Pie Company. It would have been rude not to pop in, so we did emerging five minutes later with a bag of goodly vittels and some words of wisdom…

…and yes, yes it did. That chocolate pecan pie did indeed fix everything (including fixing a few more lifetimes on my hips!)

So that folks was my afternoon in Snohomish. Now, back to Operation Cuddles…

My Backyard… Building Blocks

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Today I was reading an interesting piece on Fevered Mutterings on what constitutes ‘travel’ and the premise that we tend to think about the packing of a suitcase, backpack or even overnight bag as an activity inextricably linked to travelling. 

When I think of travel, I think of going from point A to point B (which is the definition that comes to my mind given the Transport for London website exhorts me to ‘travel by foot’ for a portion of most of my journeys) but this is not a vision that will keep me going in the depths of winter darkness. Thank goodness Mike Sowden suggested that redefining travelling as ‘venturing somewhere new’ means it is right under our noses – that ‘travel *is* our own backyard’.

And last Sunday it was my own ‘backyard’ that I ventured out into to have a gander around Old London Town. I’m not sure that under normal circumstances, I would be up for an architecturally themed stroll on a wintery Sunday morning but I enjoyed Blue Badge Guide Paula’s trek around Shardlake’s London so much last September that it was an easy and enthusiastic ‘yes’ when the flyer came through for her guided walk through Post-War City Architecture. 

So we started at Barbican tube station and followed Paula – and her post-war story – through the City of London. Here’s what we saw…

Standing outside Barbican station on a crisp January morning

Following the bombing raid on London on 29th December 1940, much of Greater London was flattened. But contrary to wider plans, the City took its own view of its rebuilding and commissioned architects Chamberlin, Powell and Bon to create urban villages for the working class…


The Golden Lane Estate was originally positioned outside the City boundaries until ‘re-zoning’ brought it into the fold – perhaps that explains why a 2 bedroom apartment here goes for around £680,000.
…and the more affluent inhabitants of the City.
The Barbican Estate was opened in 1969 (that makes it as old as me) and stretches over a 40 acre site. It contains more than 2,000 flats, of which a 2 bedroom version will set you back about £900,000. Oh and check out the upside looking windows top right.

We then ambled around the back of the Museum of London, took a quick peek at the Pedway System (a scheme based on raised pedestrian walkways which never really took hold) then crossed London Wall to Wood Street.

Traditional building blocks adorn the home of the City’s Police Force (yes, a separate force from that of Greater London). Standing with your back against the wall will give you a great view of the tower reflected in the building opposite.
The tower of St Alban stands in the centre of the street in stark contrast to the architecture around it and here the Norman Foster designed 100 Wood Street forms a geometric backdrop to Christopher Wren’s deft touch. But walk through its checkerboard frontage and you’ll find a veritable oasis. Soaring windows angled outwards bring light into the old churchyard and provide space for the old plane tree’s leafy boughs.
Next it was a trot down Gutter Lane to emerge on Cheapside – crossing the road, we found ourselves standing in One New Change with this rather spectacular view…
The dome of St Paul’s pierces the sky right opposite One New Change. Thirteen ‘views’ of the cathedral are protected by the London View Management Framework which prevents the construction of any buildings which may impinge on the view. There’s even a protected view from Richmond Park’s King Henry’s Mound several miles away.

We headed out of One New Change and down to Bank Junction where the architectural contrasts abounded again.


This is No 1 Poultry: the street, like those around it (Milk Street, Bread Street) named after the market produce originally sold here. The building, designed by James Stirling for Peter Palumbo, carves a ship-like post modern silhouette against the sky and has caused much outcry from those – including Prince Charles – whose more conservative sensibilities it offends.
Turning from the post-modernist perspective, we found more traditional architecture clustered around the junction with the Royal Exchange (top left) and the Bank of England (bottom left) dominating the view.

We headed up Cornhill, our guide Paula setting a brisk pace…

The Leadenhall Building (the ‘Cheesegrater’) looms above the stone buildings along Cornhill while St Michael’s doors (right) are tucked a few neat steps back from the street.

…and came to a stop on the corner of Leadenhall Street and St Mary Axe, finding ourselves both surrounded and dwarfed by edifices of steel and glass…

The famous Lloyd’s of London ‘inside out’ building (right) was designed by Richard Rogers (who also designed the Pompidou Centre in Paris with Renzo Piano) on the site of both the previous Lloyd’s building and before that, East India House. The construction style (called Bowellism) is notable for having its interiors – stairwells (spirals), restrooms – the boxes behind the piping which contain electrical and water conduits –  and air conditioning ducts easily accessible to ensure that building never need close due to any malfunction of its ‘essential’ services. This 1986 building was Grade I listed in 2011 much to the chagrin of Lloyd’s (the listing means that the building cannot be changed in any way) so the insurance company’s ‘overflow’ will be moved right across the road to…
…the Cheesegrater (official name The Leadenhall Building). Situated at 122 Leadenhall Street, this building is nearing completion and is expected to open in Spring this year.

And not to be outdone, just a stone’s throw away stands The Gherkin.

The Gherkin‘s official name is the Swiss Re Building – or that’s what previous owners Swiss Re insisted on. Another Norman Foster design and completed in 2003, 30 St Mary Axe was built on the site of the former Baltic Exchange which was damaged in a Provisional IRA bombing in 1992. I thought it seemed rather fitting that The Cheesegrater is within arms reach of The Gherkin…

And with that, it was a short walk to Bishopsgate and the end of our tour. Almost 3 hours (including what Paula likes to call a ‘warming coffee break’ at the Costa Coffee halfway point).

I strolled back towards Moorgate tube station filled with excitement at what a dynamic and fascinating city I live in. The time had flown by and I was so glad that I had dragged myself out of bed and braved the chill to explore this amazing ‘backyard’ of mine. I kept gazing around, wondering about the stories of the buildings that loomed over me and as I reached the intersection of London Wall and Moorgate again, I couldn’t help but take just one last parting shot.


The old and the new right next to each other again.

I don’t know their story. But I am sure it’s fascinating.

Turning Japanese…

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As things settle back into a normal rhythm here at Gidday HQ, I’m finding some head space to register the curiosities that I come across in my going about in the world each day. This week has seen me ooh-ing at 3D printed food and aah-ing at spray on clothes but the one that really got me going was an injection of fun in the place where I least expected it.

With the amount of travelling I do, one of the biggest bugbears is the wait for luggage (alongside the wait in the immigration queue). Luckily I can get away with carry-on for most trips but when I think of the number of times I have strained to see – amid the proliferation of black – my trusty grey and green suitcase emerge onto the carousel, my delight upon spotting it trundling towards me is often too long coming.

It would seem that the Japanese have understood such a plight and have decided to make the wait more enjoyable by introducing some local character to the baggage hall – literally. 

In Tottori Airport, Medama no Ovaji – the ‘eyeball’ father from famous manga series Kitaro (of the) Graveyard – rides around and around the carousel, welcoming waiting travellers with open arms. 

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Image source: http://en.rocketnews24.com

Now this would really jerk me out of my post-travel stupor. And after wondering whether jetlag had finally done a huge number on me, I imagine I would rub my eyes, search frantically for my phone and upload a quick disbelieving pic to my Facebook circle.

But what’s really great about this scheme is that each airport gets to choose its own theme and so is able to promote its own particular city or region.

Toyama’s Kitokito Airport promotes the area’s fresh seafood…

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Image source: http://en.rocketnews24.com

Okayama takes its inspiration from the local tale of Momotaro who’s said to be born from a peach…

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Image source: http://en.rocketnews24.com

And the loquats (or mikan oranges) at Nagasaki airport stand testament to the region’s proud claim as Japan’s #1 producer.

Image source: http://en.rocketnews24.com

And it’s not just at the airport where the Japanese apply their quirky brand of fun. 

In an effort to inspire children’s interest in the big wide world out there, you can buy a tour through Unagi Travel for your child’s toy(s). Said teddies are sent off for 2-3 weeks to tour a region of Japan, keeping those ‘at home’ updated with Facebook posts, photos and even a postcard before returning home with a bunch of photos on CD and even a video of their grand tour. 

//www.youtube.com/get_player


What a great idea. I wonder whether Alfie Bear would be up for a tour? 



Huh? What do you mean it’s only for children…

ps…and in being reminded of Alfie Bear’s first festive foray, I was then reminded to let you know that yes peeps, I counted today and there are 38 sleeps to go until Christmas (37 if you are about to wake up Down Under). Gulp…

Prodigal Daughters…

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One of the most wonderful aspects of our recent trip to Amsterdam was the sense of pilgrimage brought on by being there together. As kids we were at our Oma and Opa’s at least once a week so our sense of ‘Dutch-ness’ has been very strong all of our lives and the sense of shared heritage during our visit – particularly as it was Lil Chicky’s first foray across The Channel – was quite poignant.

The icons of Amsterdam and The Netherlands, though I’d seen and photographed them many times before, seemed to shape our pilgrimage and just like the tale of the brave Dutch boy who held back the swirling waters by putting his finger in a hole in the dike, we remained resolute walking, eating and snapping our way through four fabulous days.


And speaking of walking, what better place to start than the klompenmakerij, or the wooden shoe factory.

L to R: wooden shoe tree outside the factory in Marken; 
carved shoes hung up to dry; souvenirs galore.

Lil Chicky even tried a pair on…


…but decided to buy the pair that she could actually fit into her suitcase.

Still speaking of walking, If you’re walking anywhere in Amsterdam, it pays to pay attention. Cyclists rule the roads and there was a point where we found ourselves caught mid-street with a tram on one side and a cyclist on the other. The tram driver stopped.

Clockwise L to R: Bikes parked in Dam Square; 
view from the canal; 
the ‘bike park’ (how on earth do you find your ride again?)

Travelling further afield we saw our first windmills, standing tall over the flat watery plains, and paid homage to sails of a typically Dutch kind.

Scenes from Zaanse Schans

The Netherlands produces three billion tulip bulbs every year. We found a few down at the flower market on The Singel in Amsterdam…and a few more of ‘nature’s gifts’ on our travels.

Clockwise L to R: Tulips at the bloemenmarkt on The Singel; a very literal hash tag;
wheels of gouda cheese everywhere from Amsterdam to Volendam.

Speaking of nature’s gifts, two particular girls would never have graced the world with their special brand of Aussie Dutch-ness without at least a little contribution from the bloke who lived for a while at 159 Amstelkade. So we caught the number 24 tram on Thursday night, walked about 15mins and found ourselves here…
Prodigal daughters – finding Dad’s childhood home. 
Pictures were duly despatched to said sire.

With all of this pilgrim-ing, we needed to keep up our strength and every day was punctuated with cries of remembered vittels from our childhhood.

Clockwise L to R: Enjoying hot chips and proper creamy mayonnaise; 
waffles for every palate (including Lil Chicky’s); 
Dutch apple pie – chock full of layers of thinly sliced apple – evoked a real ‘Oma’ moment for us; 
yours truly enjoying a well-earned oliebollen; 
two excited faces waiting for our inaugural Amsterdam poffertjes; in the making.

And when all was said and done, and all of those memories were tucked away into the chinks of my mind and heart, I wanted to bring a little piece of it home with me…

My hand made Delft vase, a wonderful reminder of our trip.


…and while tulips will no doubt look amazing once they are in season, my irises look gorgeous at Gidday HQ.


So that’s Amsterdam – and a day trip or two – done. 

Until the next time I need a nostalgia fix!

Postcard from Amsterdam…

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With Lil Chicky back home now and me trying valiantly to get back into life’s rhythmic swing, I’ve been working through the few hundred photos I took during our adventures together. And as I have been sorting, one question has kept going around and around in my head. What do I share with you first?

It had to be our trip to Amsterdam – and it warrants a couple of posts. Firstly because it’s such a wonderfully photogenic city and secondly because it was something of a pilgrimage for the two of us – but more about that in my next post.

This was my fourth visit to Amsterdam. There is something rather special about cities built in commune with their watery roots and I cannot count the number of times we turned a corner and wielded our respective ‘piccy kits’ (mine a point-and-shoot Nikon, hers a ‘fully-optioned’, rather hefty Canon SLR) in an attempt to capture ‘a moment’. 

With the exception of the 15 minute downpour walking from the Central Station to our hotel, we were blessed with four days of gorgeous weather. Crisp blue skies meant that a shared cone of chips generously dolloped with lush, luscious mayonnaise and a plate of bitteballen were best tackled outside, the latter with a local beer in hand.

It also meant A LOT of photos. Here are just a few of my absolute favourites.

We stayed at the Hampshire Eden just near Rembrandtplein – while the square itself was literally at our back door, this was the view from the front of the hotel.

I love that this photo looks like a painting – the curve of the canal, the buildings, bikes and boats lining the banks and a spire to aspire to in the distance.
There was something rather innocent about the dappled shade on the canal wall and the friends enjoying their moment in the sun, legs dangling childishly over the edge.

Begijnhof is a beautiful oasis tucked away in the heart of Amsterdam. Blink and you’d miss not just this entrance leading off Spui (we did) but also Amsterdam’s oldest house (no 34), the 15th century Engelse Kerk (English Church – above) and the Begijnhof Chapel, a clandestine church where the Begijntjes worshipped in secret until 1795.
No trip to Amsterdam is complete without a wander through its infamous Red Light district. The scarlet-draped windows line the streets and canals around the Oude Kerk (Old Church) yet as night falls and the lights reflect off the water, it easy to forget the deals ‘being done’ and get caught up in how pretty it all looks.
Oude Kerk itself is rather lovely in a stark kind of way. Not for it the intimate spaces or crowded decoration of many of Europe’s other places of worship. There’s a feeling of spacious calm beneath the gothic arches and when you’ve had enough, an unassuming door off the nave leads to a cosy tea room and outdoor courtyard for some quiet enjoyment and a reflective cuppa. 
If you are visiting Amsterdam, whether coming directly by train or by plane via Schipol Airport, you are likely to come through its Central Station. Intent on your destination, it’s easy to miss the opportunity to turn around and admire the magnificent entrance to this fabulous city. True to form, we were dashing away from the station on our arrival but had the opportunity to appreciate it from our canal cruise the following day.

As our canal boat rounded a corner, the colour and light in this scene was breath-taking. I love how all the elements – the bridge, the boat, the terraced buildings and the leafy boughs of the tree – come together to create what for me is inherently Amsterdam.
Our canal cruise took us past the Magere Brug (Skinny Bridge) which was constructed in 1670 and is probably the most famous in Amsterdam. I didn’t get a great photo of that bridge but as we drifted past it and turned right, this boat-load of ‘locals’ caught my eye and while not the Magere Brug, the typically Dutch bridge in the background gave me another moment in the sun to capture.
And last but not least, our photographic journey returns us to the ‘back yard’ of our stay, Rembrandtplein. It’s a vibrant square lined with cafes, bars and restaurants and pays homage to Rembrandt van Rijn himself and his most famous painting, The Nightwatch. (Like I did last trip, you can see the real thing in the Rijksmuseum. It’s enormous!)


So here endeth the armchair tour and I hope you’ve enjoyed it even half as much as I’ve enjoyed revisiting our trip in the writing of this post. Stay tuned for more next time, an alternative look at our sibling sojourn as a pilgrimage of ‘all things Dutch’.

A skip in my step

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So the great Chicky Adventure is done and my sibling partner in crime has arrived back on the other side of the world (and is working through her jet lag by all accounts).

It was such an amazing two weeks – firstly for the unadulterated ‘just us’ time, secondly for the opportunity for me to introduce her to this amazing city I call home, and thirdly for our shared pilgrimage to Amsterdam, Dad’s childhood home, and the delicacies we enjoyed in memory of our Oma and Opa.

I’ve been meaning to pick up the blogging ‘pencil’ again over the last few days but I have felt so full of everything we did that I haven’t known where to start. The anticipation of Lil Chicky’s first trip here. The pride in the sharing of my new hometown and experiencing its fabulous-ness through her ‘new’ eyes. The privilege of helping her celebrate her 40th birthday. The sheer intensity of spending 2 weeks – 24/7 – together for the first time since…well forever.

All underpinned by a lifetime of sisterly memories, the effortless and uncomplicated recall of funny stories, childhood scrapes and sibling rivalry, and squillions of photos…

…including a few selfies.

DAY 2: Fab Finchley – looking for coffee in the pouring rain. 

DAY 3: Can’t go to London without visiting the Queen. 

DAY 4: Hamers do ‘the henge’ (squeezed between visits to Salisbury and Bath). Technically not a selfie thanks to a kind Aussie chap on the tour, but close enough.

There’s a small selfie gap here while we undertook birthday celebrations (part one – The Mousetrap and dinner in Covent Garden – and two – Pret-a-Portea at The Berkeley)…

DAY 5: Fashionista food at the Berkeley

…Westminster Abbey, Tower of London, Globe Theatre and a visit to Carnaby Street.

DAY 6: Yes, we bought these. Because we had to get out of the rain. And the Irregular Choice shop was just there. Really.

Then we went to Amsterdam…

DAY 9: Arriving at Amsterdam’s Central Station about 2 minutes before torrential rain…

Waiting for our first poffertjes (teeny tiny pancakes served with butter and icing sugar and eaten with a toothpick) of the pigrimage trip in Dam Square.

(More on Amsterdam in a later post).

After 4 days, we returned to London, hired a car and drove first to Silverstone and then to Donington Circuits to tick a few things off Lil Chicky’s motorsport bucket list. Looks like Day 13 was a lucky one…

The Winners’ Podium at Silverstone – cheesy but had to be done.

We decided to take Day 14 easy with a visit to the Museum of London after the ‘wild storm‘ had abated…and when Day 15 dawned bright and blue-skied (if a little chilly), there was just one thing left to do…

DAY 15: It endeth on The Eye – our last sibling selfie of the trip.

Full of our time together and tired from our two weeks of tourist-ing, we said our emotional good-byes at Heathrow last Tuesday. After I’d waved until she’d disappeared behind the security barrier, I made the long trip home to Gidday HQ. It’s still my warm and cosy haven but a little quieter. And yellow banner of the Money Shop, which became our welcoming ‘nearly home’ beacon as we turned into my street each night, has now taken on a new and poignant significance. Another memory, meaningless to anyone else but enough to inspire a skip in my step…

…one that only Lil Chicky will understand.