The Big Apple Returns

This used to be my favourite city.

 Marc and I spent a good deal of time here BC (before children) and loved every minute of it. We were travelling for business, on expense accounts with buckets of disposable income. We were young(er) with no real responsibilities or cares. We played in the city until the wee hours of the morning and suffered few regrets. And then children, marriage, mortgages, school fees, and all the associated pressures seemed to shift into the top priority slots. Frivolous holidays in New York? Who can afford that? Besides, what could the children possibly find entertaining in a city full of the most expensive hotels and restaurants ot to mention the top notch bars and nightclubs?

Ok, so I wasn't fully committed to finding the answers to those questions. Until now. And let me tell you, I have now found answeres galore.

So, where did I start with the planning for this holiday? Simple: I started with them. A simple question such as "What would you like to see, eat, do, and learn when we go to NYC?" was more than adequate to get this party started.

Abigail's answer was simple: The Statue of Liberty. She then elaborated by informing us that she thought someone would discover her on the streets of NYC and ask her to do modelling. I smiled. Funny, I used to think that myself......still do in my dreams. Sebastian's answer was a little more complex (of course, it is). Seb wanted to know why NYC was significant in the history of the USA and why it remains the most vibrant city in the world. Oh God, this was going to require some research.

Or maybe not...... I decided to let the city speak for itself.

We arrived Sunday night and the first thing Sebastian said after the taxi dropped us off in mind numbing heat and humidity was that he thought the city stank. Yep, there is a stench about it this time of year. Or most times of the year.

After a refreshing shower we headed out the front door of our hotel, crossed Central Park South into, you guessed it, Central Park and walked towards Columbus Circle. We saw some super fit black men doing a break dance/acrobatic performance. It was set to get dance tunes and the children loved watching it although Abigail did seem to find more than a little amused by the comment that seeing a black man running in Manhattan without a police officer chasing him was very unusual. Abigail caught a Chinese woman apparently hypnotising a Chinese man whilst sitting on a park bench. We caught a cab and directed him uptown. Way uptown. To Harlem.

Many of you might be thinking at this point, I done gone and lost my mind. Nope, I was hungry and there ain't no place better to fix an aching, empty belly than Harlem. Me was going to get me some soooooouuuuuul food.

The yellow cab drove us all the way up to 110th and barely stopped to collect his fare and kick us to the curb. We walked into the restaurant and was told to sit ourselves down just anywhere we liked, as long as someone else wasn't sitting there. Well, that's simple enough.

Their homemade lemonade was declareded by the children to be the best lemonade in the entire world and children have drank a lot of lemonade. We ordered ribs, fried chicken, cornbread,cornbread stuffing, macaroni and cheese, and green beans. Abigail went for the catfish fish fingers. And chips. We can bring a girl all the way to NYC from England and she orders fish and chips. What can I say?

We ate until we thought we would explode. Or the jet lag would leave us a lumps of lard huddled in the chairs. When it came time to ask for the bill, 2 slices of cake (1 chocolate, 1 red velvet) were delivered all packaged up for us to take home with us. Gratis. Free. Complimentary. No charge. They had such a great time listening to us and were so charmed by the children's English accents and manners they gave them cake. Get them! The children were so pleased with themselves, they wouldn't go to sleep. Abigail thought this might be better than being discovered as a star in the making.

We finally collapsed into our beds, shattered from a long day our travel and the early excitement of a city just waiting to show us what it had to offer our new demographic despite the humidity. Maybe, NYC is still my favourite city.

EDITOR'S NOTE:  My iPad is to blame for the lousy state of this article when I first posted it.  It wouldn't let me do any formatting.  Sorry, if you had to read it like that.  I will do my best to do my duty to ensure future technology challenges are beaten down.  Into the ground!

Stopped the Wind

We are on holiday in Devon (southwest coast of England) with another chorister family of four and their 2 dogs.  We've been planning this trip since June last year and had hoped for that lovely springtime weather promised by the south of England during the Easter school holidays.

We plan.  God laughs!
We had a late arrival night followed by a late dinner followed by late night bottles of wine which meant ultimately it was a late start to the morning.  The heavens opened up in the morning and the gale force winds made it a wee bit difficult to stand up.  But we had set our minds on a walk along the coast and we were going on a walk, dammit!

OK, I surrendered the moment I stepped out the door.  Abigail supported my surrender and joined me in the comfort of our car as the others set of for a bracing walk to Beesands about 2 miles away.  We would meet them there.

The roads are single track surrounded by 10 foot high hedges are both sides and grass growing down the middle of the road.  Abigail announced she felt like Alice in Wonderland.  She was Alice.  I was the White Rabbit what with my obsession for punctuality and all.

Thanks to the wonders of sat nav we made it without a single wrong turn and whilst enjoying the scenery.  What did we do before this wonderful invention?  Oh, I remember:  bury our heads in maps and be lost for hours until asking for directions.  Even then a local accent would lead to a nod and a smile but no closer to finding our way.

The initial drive by survey of the tiny seaside village took all of about 30 seconds.  We got parked up  across from the designated pub and I wondered what Abigail and I were going to do for the next hour whilst we waited for the others to survive the walk.  There wasn't even a newsagent.
We spotted the car from the other family.  M had decided that one car wouldn't be enough for all of us to return home after lunch so she would hang with us.  With reasonably low expectations, we headed to the local fish shop.  And then the magic started.....

The fishmonger greeted us with a hearty hello.  It was a small shop but there was ample fish which we were assured had been caught that day.  Yeah, yeah I thought "they always say that".  We found the tea bags and instant coffee we were after and then found some homemade hot cross buns, which clearly we were not going to pass on.  We headed to the counter only to be further tempted by the pronouncement that the fishmonger had just whipped up a large pot of crab chowder which would be ready in about 2 hours.  As it was only 11 o'clock we decided, to postpone our purchases and return after lunch.

Back out in the wet weather,we headed.  A sign outside a small church enticed us inside with the promise of hot tea and cakes, the price being only a donation to the church maintenance fund.  We were greeted by 3 very enthusiastic women including the village vicar.  They prepared 2 of the best cups of tea I've ever had and a delish hot chocolate for Abigail.  We bought some cakes for after the walk back at our cottage and then sat down for a right proper natter. 

M went to book the pub for lunch and returned with some bad news:  the pub was fully booked until 2:30.  Plan B went into action.  We would wait for the walkers, eat cake for lunch, then go for our pub lunch.  The church was happy for us to wait.

The walkers arrived soaking wet and chilled to the bone.  We got them warmed up with hot drinks and gorgeous homemade lemon drizzle cake.  As if by magic the boys gained a second wind and a piano was magically produced from a tiny little corner.

W sat down and started to play for the walkers in the church.  Then Seb played.  Then W played.  the girls sat decorating cupcakes and colouring.  Each and every person who walked into that church for a refuge from the wind and storm found a place filled with warmth and love.

The church emptied and the men headed for the pub when our little choristers decided to deliver a most beautiful gift.  Despite it being Easter Monday, they began to sing Once in Royal David's City.  Even though it is traditionally a Christmas carol, it seemed right and appropriate.  Their voices blended beautifully.  They were pitch perfect.  They sang without accompaniment and hit every high note.

When they finished, everything was silent.  You couldn't even hear the wind howling.  They had stopped the wind.  It was as if everything had stopped to listen to them.  And then the little boys' sister broke into applause and I wiped away the tear from the corner of my eye.  The rain on the windows invaded our space and the boys smiled shyly like 10 year olds do.

We thanked the church ladies of St Andrew's Church of England in Beesands, Devon for their gracious welcome. We made a generous donation to ensure that this haven of warmth and kindness is here for future generations to seek comfort.

The afternoon had not gone according to plan but the day had far exceeded our expectations.  Who would have thought we could stop the wind?

2010 Review

I love New Year's Eve but not for all the parties. I actually despise New Year's Eve parties. People you barely know and don't really like all that much overdressed trying to all act like they are having far more fun than you are, which wouldn't be hard but still they aren't.

Nope, I prefer my eve to be a nice quiet affair at home with the ones I hold most dear and keep them near. I enjoy the luxury of hindsight the day offers and the promise of the new beginning tomorrow offers.

I will most certainly be happy to see the back end of 2010 and greet 2011 with the optimism every new year brings.

Our January started with a record snowfall all over the UK much like the year ended in December. (Un)fortunately for us, we were in Spain which also suffering from record rainfall and low temperatures so our attempts to go somewhere sunny and warm over the new year was a complete catastrophe. Upon returning to the UK we found airport baggage handling systems broken down and our car buried under 3 feet of snow. But the worse was yet to come. I had picked up a tickly cough which over the rainy new year and the stress of returning developed into a quite bad cough which over the next week developed into pneumonia which basically kicked my feet right out from under me. I was down for the count missing 7 weeks of work and still have very little memory of the days passing me by. It took 4 lots of antibiotics to shift the infection and several more weeks before I was back at full strength.

Oddly, our family grew without our having additional children and like something out of a novel, we discovered that Marc's father had spun a rather long yarn about who he was and where he had come from. We were contacted in early January by a woman who turned out to be a cousin of Marc's and we have since learned that his grandparents on his father's side only lived a few miles from us and passed away just a few short years ago. Regrettably, he never even knew they existed as his father maintained he was an orphan. The good news is his father wasn't an only child as he claimed but in fact has 2 sisters and 1 brother all of who have provided amply for a truckload of cousins and second cousins and now Marc's extended family rivals mine for size and love. I tell you fact is always stranger than fiction! You couldn't make this stuff up!

And just when I thought I had recovered to full strength, I then suffered the torture of bad chairs sitting in a training room for 5 straight days and my back seized up. I could barely move for over a week. I sincerely convinced myself that my body was giving out and promptly reviewed my will.

A trip to the British Museum provided Marc with a guaranteed joke for those numerous occasions when he would like to poke fun at Americans. After a long and thoroughly enlightening and educational tour of all the treasure the Brits have plundered (acquired) from various cultures all over the world our feet were tired and our spirits weary but we knew our experience would be incomplete without a journey to view the famed Elgin marbles. I had passively absorbed the controversy and really wanted to see for myself what all the fuss was about. I followed my family through the rooms and found Marc dawdling in the middle of a large room reading about some sculptures hanging on the walls. I sighed heavily a couple times to express my impatience and still he didn't get a move on. Finally I urged we needed to get a move on if we were going to see the marbles before closing time. Marc stared at me and held out his arms sarcastically gesticulating for me to look around. Yes, I see those, I reliably informed him, but where exactly was I going to find those tiny round little balls of marble that little boys play games with and apparently continue to cause the odd diplomatic row? He nearly embarrassed himself at that point by laughing so hard he pissed his pants. I may never ever ever live that one down.

Abigail moved from being a Rainbow to a proper Brownie and her efforts impress us. She has started taking piano lessons and really enjoys it. She added street dance lessons to her ballet and can really boogie. But her passion is her horse riding. She rides every Saturday morning and the dreaded request for a pony appeared on her Christmas list this year for the first and I doubt the last time. The academic year was tough for her but Year 2 started in September. She has rallied and shown amazing progress in the 3 Rs. Keep up the great work, Abigail!

Sebastian moved from boarding 2 nights/week and being a probationary chorister to boarding 3 nights/week and being a novice chorister. He received fabulous mid and end term reports and performed very well in exams (if we ignore English - and who amongst us hasn't failed an exam or 2?). Cubs and all his other curricular activities are suspended due to chorister demands but he gets better every day at the piano and violin. His music theory and Latin are very impressive. He loves boarding although I suspect this is since he doesn't have any chores there and perhaps the hot breakfast is on offer every morning!

My mother visited for an extended time and we took her on the whirlwind of the British Season: Garter Day, Polo, Wimbledon, Windsor Horse Show, Royal Ascot, Travener's cricket, World Cup, . We also treated her to the tornado of our social life with school sports and family days, boat shows, May Fayres, Old Windsor Carnival, May Bank holiday camping in the freezing cold in the New Forest. I am certain we wore her out.

Our summer holidays were spent in the UK with 2 weeks in Bude, Cornwall and 1 week in Wales near Brecon. We saw quite a bit of rain but we have become quite expert at paddling round a campsite. We did meet lots of lovely new friends whom I suspect we will be seeing for years to come at various campsites around the UK!

We lost 2 people very dear to us in 2010. Marc's great cousin, John Somers, departed this earth during the summer after battling cancer for a brief period. I was amazed to learn so much about him at his memorial service and wish I had known him better. But I will never forget the first time meeting him when he showed me the telescope he had made with a camera inside it. He certainly changed our world making a major contribution to the development of the etching of microprocessor layouts. In November the precious Dorothy Harrison decided she had other places to be. She was the mother of Marc's Aunt Mary. She lived in Windsor and until she became ill a few years ago we saw her often. At Abigail's birthday party this Christmas Eve her presence was certainly missed.

This Christmas was dominated by the schedule of our chorister. In early December Sebastian participated in 2 full performances of The Messiah and 1 Festivo performance. The performed at the City of London club for "some very posh people" he reliably informs me and a service at St Mary-le-Bow. It was his first stay over and despite the school term breaking up on 17 December, he had to return to school on 20 December to fulfill all his singing engagements. This included multiple carol services, 2 services on Christmas Eve (including Midnight Mass), and 2 services on Christmas Day. We attended all and enjoyed every single minute. We are so proud and somewhat amazed that this young boy is so utterly capable of such inspiring feats. I simply can't imagine where he gets his energy, dedication, sense of duty and commitment. He astounds me.

Luckily, Marc's business has not felt the effects of the economic downturn other than a few customers being very slow to pay. Knock on wood, the good run continues and he gets the yacht he so desperately desires.

If you are a devoted reader you will have seen the domination in October of the self discovery of my writing abilities. I have regrettably not been able to fit it into my daily schedule but I am committed to making this work in the New Year. I approach 2011 with renewed commitment to the craft and am determined to finish the first draft of my novel, get an agent, and see if I can get a publisher interested. Not much then.....

We wish you all a very Happy New Year in 2011. May all your dreams come true and you face the adversity life invariably throws us with grace and determination.

British Museum

A few weeks ago during the school half term, Marc and I took the children to the British Museum. I'd heard all sorts of rumours that this was allegedly the best museum in the world and I wanted to be the judge of that myself.

I also have a fairly strong opinion about how the British came to have of this stuff to put in the museum. Basically, the Brits went round the world pillaging and plundering all the great civilisations in every corner of the globe and brought home the best bits. The British Museum was built for the express purpose of showing the world these ill gotten gains.

The defenders of the museum will tell you they've got paper work for it all. Yeah, right! And pigs fly.....I didn't want any part of that.

My curiosity (and the children nagging) got the better of me. With my morals well and truly compromised, we set off for the day.

We headed straight for The Hamlyn Library in the museum which has numerous sets of trails and challenges designed for various age groups and they are all free. They not only teach the children about many items in the museum but also how to navigate a museum and scrutinise historical objects. They learned how to translate Latin (always a useful skill?). They even got to handle some objects under the watchful but not too over protective eye of a museum volunteer. Abigail can tell you all about an alabaster pot which held kohl for Egyptian eye makeup.

We worshipped the stone statue lifted from Easter Island. Seb sketched the remains of a sculpture of a roman foot in a sandal. Abigail copied the names of the busts of the Greek gods. They thrilled a woman with their knowledge of the countries of Africa (and taught us a thing or two).

I stood in awe at the Rosetta stone as I gained a better understanding of just how incredibly valuable this piece of history was in helping us to uncover the mysteries of long forgotten languages and how this has led mankind to a greater capability in translating all different texts.

As the long day drew to an end and we had seen just about all we had the energy for, Marc reminded me that we still hadn't seen the Elgin marbles. Oh yeah.....I'd always wanted to see what all the fuss was about. The Brits took these marbles from Greece a couple hundred years ago at the height of their empire building. Of course, Greece was taking very good care of them before they were taken away since they were being used as a gun powder store. But I didn't understand what that all meant.

We walked into a room and on every wall was a stone sculpture. Marc started reading the exhibit in front of us. I patiently reminded him that we were at the end of the day and if we wanted to see the marbles we should probably get a move on. Marc looked at me like I had gone completely bonkers, an expression he has perfected over the years. I gently reminded him that our highest priority right at this moment were to see the marbles. Exasperated he pointed to the four walls surrounding us and said "See!"

Oh.....but I thought marbles were little round spherical things that little boys played with in a circle on the ground and carried around in little leather bags.

No, of course not. The sculptures were taken from the walls of The Parthenon. This article can tell you specifically what they are. And this link will show you some incredible photographs of these precious treasures. Just wished I'd looked at these before I'd made a right idiot out of myself.

No matter how these treasures were acquired, they are housed here with incredible care. The museum is free. The curators take care to ensure that everyone gets the most out of their visit: adults and children alike. Our school's half term was a week earlier than everyone else's so we practically had the museum to ourselves. The only disappointment was the tea in the cafe but I can overlook that.

The children got some fantastic certificates with their names on them for completing a couple of the challenges. Everyone is still laughing about my interpretation of the marbles. And I will definitely be going back to the British Museum. Sod the morals! And the marbles.

Feliz Roscon de Reyes

The day the kings present Jesus with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh is also known as the 12th day of Christmas or if you are in Spain as Epiphany. This day falls on 6 January and is a big national holiday . What we hadn't expected was how much fun we were going to have on the Eve of Epiphany.


In every town, village and city there is a parade. In El Rompido our 3 kings arrived by boat at 4 pm on the pier and immediately started chucking sweets at the people on the pier. A band then led the way to the thrones where the kings seated with their harems were to be pulled by tractors and then paraded around the streets. From the trailers the kings and harem threw confetti, sweets and small toys into the crowds which lined the roads and chased after tractors. There was quite a battle for the balls which appeared to be the most coveted toys. We filled my handbag and every pocket with sweets and Marc made a spectacular catch of a red ball that had bounced off a light post. Even our car had sweets on it when we returned to it.


The kings then gathered at the entrance to the local church where they were presented with flowers and they laid their boxes of gifts at the altar. And we went off to get some food for dinner.

We had been noticing these round cakes filled with cream or chocolate or custard and we realised that this is what a typical Spanish family eats on the night before Epiphany. So we just had to get us one! And so we did....it was delicious. We found a plastic toy inside the piece we cut for Abigail and a inedible nut of some sorts wrapped in plastic in Sebastian's. Near as I can figure this is for good luck.

As we pack and prepare for our departure early tomorrow morning, we have had a wonderful holiday. We saw and learned a lot of things we didn't know about Spain. We were surprised with unplanned adventures several times. The children have made some wonderful memories. I wish it had been warmer and sunnier but despite my best attempts I just cannot control the weather!

There is a blizzard in England and sever weather warnings are in place for tonight. It is forecast that 16 in of snow will fall over night. Hopefully the airport we are flying to won't be affected but we will certainly find the drive home a challenge. The weather may beat us yet!

Lost in Seville

I think I have fallen in love with Seville. Prior to today my favourite European city was Florence followed by Rome but I'm afraid my Italian devotion may have come to an end.

Once we overcame the trauma of parking, we embarked on a never ending treasure hunt of narrow lane after narrow lane. Stopping at a cafeteria the children snacked on ice cream and we had some coffee to fortify ourselves for some heavy duty sight seeing.

Around every corner was a new breath taking church. Entering the cathedral literally took our breath away. It is the largest cathedral in the world, even bigger than St Paul's in London or St Peter's in Rome. The stained glass was incredible. We paid our homage at Christopher Columbus' tomb and headed outside to marvel at the tower.

The sun was shining and we wandered the twisty turny streets to find some lunch at a local tapas bar. We tried the local orange wine which was mmmmmmmm gooooood!

Back into the streets headed for the Alcazar we could see the storm clouds gathering and managed to make it inside just before the mist turned to downpour. The only trouble with this is that the Alcazar is half inside half outside and around every corner we would find ourselves running across yet another charming courtyard to avoid getting soaked. The children thought this was a fabulous game.

When the skies cleared we explored the streets of the Barrios de Santa Cruz aimlessly until the day turned to night. The Sevilians packed the streets. They are like little vampires who only come out after dark. Before heading for the car we popped in for some more ice cream and coffees and then to the local grocery shop for some basic provisions (milk, bread). As we were bagging up it started to rain. A lot!

Donning our rain gear we headed into the streets. Marc turned left and I turned right. The we deicded straight ahead was the right way. Then left. Then right. Then right. Then left. And so on and so on and so on. At which point the children asked us if we knew where we were going. And we realised we didn't. Nor did we know where we were. After 20 minutes of walking around in circles in the dark driving rain panic started to set in. Trying to refer to a not very detailed map in the torrential downpour presented its own challenges.

We then realized the police were closing off roads and locals were lining the streets as if to watch a parade. Initially we couldn’t even contemplate stopping to watch as we were dead set on just finding the car park. And then we took a moment to just live in the moment.

We could hear a band in the distance and joined the throngs of people lining the narrow lanes for a short wait. Not sure what we were waiting for but everyone seemed very excited, especially the children who appeared to be all holding letters. We knew that the 12th day of Christmas, 6th January, is a national holiday and that Father Christmas delivers highly anticipated gifts (not unlike our Christmas Eve). Marc and I guessed these letters contained the equivalent of our letters to Santa.

Soon the band was upon us. And then Spaniards dressed in Arab garb complete with dark brown painted faces began collecting the letters and in return throwing candy into the crowds lining the roads. Even though our children had no letter to offer they were happy to collect the sweets. A man in a red suit on a donkey brought up the rear of the parade. Clearly he was the man, the top dog and the target of the letters. After just a few moments the parade had ended and everyone went about their business.

We then looked up and realized we were on a street corner that we recognised as one we had passed that morning when we left the car. We knew exactly where we were and how to get to where we were going.

I am so glad we didn’t miss it. I’m so glad we stopped and lived in that moment. We took time to breath and enjoy and all was good.

Off Road Adventures

We bid farewell this morning to our host family as they left the driving rain of Spain and returned to the sleet and snow of England. Faced with the prospect of staying at the house with Spanish television or venturing out on our own we decided to explore the countryside around Huelva. After suitable perusal of the travel guides we decided to head east to the small town of Niebla to explore its walls and towers. We were not disappointed and although the rain meant we did a driving tour, the roads were deserted leading Sebastian to remark that the town had obviously been abandoned. Not true as I believe the many beautifully tiled homes were occupied but like us everyone was staying indoors and out of the rain.

We had 2 unsuccessful attempts at trying to find a place to grab a bite to eat and made a spur of the moment decision to head for La Palma del Condado. After one hair raising experience with a toilet at a petrol station we found ourselves at this breathtaking town, a centre of Spanish wine production. The rain lifted long enough for us to have a walk around the town square admiring the beautiful church, narrow lanes and gorgeous homes. At this point we ducked into La Agencia for lunch which is so far my favourite part of the trip.

No one spoke any English. They didn't even have a menu with bad English translations. The waiter did his best and everyone was so friendly. Sebastian managed an hysterical conversation about football (go Chelsea!) and Abigail wants to know why everyone keeps petting her head of blonde hair. The children had some fabulous chicken. I had a wonderful steak in gravy but Marc wins the grand prize for the most spectacular tapas choices ever. I couldn't even begin to tell you what it all was but we wanted more!

We had one last stop to make. We had seen a sign directing us to a site of archeological importance, Dolmen de soto, which should be a burial mound or possibly a plinth like those found at Carnac. We decided to investigate and turned off the main road or rather what looked for all intents and purposes to be the road. The road was marred by larger and larger pot holes. At one point we were crossing a bridge that I'm not entirely sure really was a bridge. And there were holes in that. I had visions of ringing the hire car company and having to explain (in Spanish) why their hire car was stuck in in a hole. I am certain that the alignment of the steering will never be the same.

The good news is we found the site. The bad news is despite a large visitor centre being evident the site was closed off. A large hole in the fence provided a few Spaniards entrance but we decided not to risk it not wanting to fall foul of the legalities of trespassing and returned to our car never having seen the attraction. Still not even sure what it was we were looking for.

The day was filled with adventures big and small (trying to purchase laundry soap at a petrol station) and by the time we returned to our home we were all shattered!

Cordoba

Yesterday we made our way east into the heart of Andulusia to visit the once great city of Cordoba. Originally founded as a Roman city in 152 BC the Moors established it as the centre of Moorish Spain in 756 and it became the centre of the western Islamic Empire rivaling Cairo and Baghdad. The primary attraction of the city is the Mezquita which is considered by most to be the grandest and most beautiful mosque ever constructed by the Moors.

The drive from Huelva (near us) to Seville was a long slog through featureless landscape scarred with tasteless urban development and despite only being 90 kilometres it seemed to take forever. Once beyond Seville though the next 130 kilometers opened up to reveal beautiful undulating green hills dotted with olive and orange groves. We didn't even notice the length of this leg of the journey.

As you come down the hills and around the last bend Cordoba reveals itself and as a tourist it is quite obvious where to head. We took quite a bit of time trying to figure out what the various parking restrictions were in place but finally just took a chance and left the car where we had initially pull in and given it was still there when we returned and we didn't have to pay a penny I would say parking was easy peasy.

Given all the rain we have had recently it was no surprise that the river was high and in fact one side had flooded the bottom floors of the gatehouse. The locals seemed in awe as they photographed the rushing river below us.

After passing a series of elaborate archways, we entered the orange tree filled courtyard of the Mezquita. This was the ablution garden complete with numerous fountains, a peaceful oasis despite the sightseers. The Mezquita was originally a basilica and there is now a Catholic church built on/in the mosque but the numerous columns, arches and open spaces are unquestionably that of a mosque.

After the Mezquita we toured the narrow alleys of the Juderia, the Jewish quarter and fell into our seats in a crowded tapas bar to enjoy the various gastronomic tidbits, my favourite being the deep fried aubergine (eggplant) slices. The children loved the local speciality of Iberica pork loin. Marc just loved his cerveza.

It was a chilly day (only 12 C - 50 F) but the sun was shining and I got a bit of pink on my face as evidence of a great day out!

A Decade Later

I remember 10 years ago today like it was yesterday. Marc and I were at the Dart International Sailing Championships in Port Elizabeth, South Africa. I did my first open water dive on New Year's Eve 1999. We were drinking gin and tonics for .35p on a veranda overlooking the sea. The temperature was roughly 96 F and there was a lovely sea breeze. We drank until we rang in the bells of 2000 and our best attempts at staying awake to see the sun rise over the horizon failed. We went for a long and possibly the scariest walk I've ever been on down on the beach where we were the only white faces in a sea of thousands of black faces. We decided that we might not want to go very far so instead we returned to our hotel and enjoyed a lovely braai (BBQ).

Where has the time gone?

In a decade, Marc and I have married. We have 2 gorgeous children. We have a gorgeous home (2 in fact). We run a successful business. I've got an amazing job. We have lost (and gained) numerous pounds. We have laughed and we have cried. We have sang. We have danced. We have made many friends and lost a few (I so miss my grandmother). We have changed in ways that were unimaginable.

The world around us has changed in ways that are unfathomable. In December 1999, Y2K was threatening (but I secretly knew it was all a hoax). September 11 hadn't yet happened and airports were more like shopping malls than lockdowns. No one had Sat Nav. Or an iPhone. Or Facebook. Or a blog.

I don't think I've ever looked back on a decade and experienced such upheaval. I look out into the future and can't see beyond tomorrow. In the next decade at least one of my children will have probably (hopefully?) left home. But beyond that I can't see that far. In December 1999, I never would have guesses that I would be sitting in the sunshine in a gorgeous home in Southern Spain surrounded by laughing, screaming children playing Nintendo DS Lites drinking Cava with fabulous friends I didn't even know but are now our closest of mates.

Maybe I'll lose those final unwanted pounds (and keep them off). Maybe I'll write a novel. Maybe we'll buy our yacht. Maybe we'll win the lottery.

I hope we are always relatively healthy. And warm and dry. And well fed. And happy.

But my overwhelming new year's resolution is to remember to enjoy this moment. And the next. And the next. And the next. But each moment in and of itself will be worthy of enjoyment. And so I shall.

May your next decade be filled with moments that all add up to the realisation of your hopes and dreams.

Rain in Spain

Our friends Sean and Helen purchased a wee little holiday home in Spain. And we celebrated. Visions of sunny breaks in our dark winter danced in my head. And what a better time than the week between Christmas and New Year to get a bit of Vitamin D on a beach?

Our plane landed in Faro, Portugal and as we walked across the parking lot to get our rental car the wind lashed us and the rain soaked us. I prayed the skies would clear during the hour drive to Spain. Alas, it was not to be.

This part of Spain has had record rain fall and we have found ourselves dashing outside to enjoy the brief breaks in the grey sky. The beach is full of shells and starfish and bubbles (that might be sewage?). Just in time we ducked into a Chiringuito on the beach at Playa de Punta Umbria to enjoy lunch whilst the biggest rain drops lashed the beach outside the windows of the restaurant. The storm clouds were frightening and the Spanish staff rushed to fill the gaps in the windows as the water leaked in. We sat oblivious as we enjoyed a meal of shrimp pancakes, cuttlefish, baby squid and anchovies. The children are being a bit adventurous in their culinary choices (they must be starving). Even Marc is enjoying the fish.

We've played Quirkle and Scrabble and Cluedo. I am thanking the nerds of the world for iPods, iPhones and Nintendo DS Lites. Lottie and Abgail have entertained us with a variety show every night. Tonight is the Grand Finale.

As I write this the sun is shining, the sky is blue and the weather forecast is improving! We may get our Vitamin D after all.

Porthcothan Bay 2009

One of my favourite beaches in the UK is Porthcothan Bay down in North Cornwall. It isn't ever crowded and as the tide comes in and out the beach changes dramatically, exposing pool to explore and a river down the middle to ride a boogie board.

We've been to this beach before and we shall return. Let's just hope that next time the sun decides to make the journey with us. out of 7 days camping we had only 2 days of sunshine and only 2 half days of no rain. The rest of the time it completely tipped it down. Not to worry though: we had the Bentley of all tents. Our Outwell Vermont XL held up very well. In fact it was more comfortable than some caravans we've stayed in. Right up until we had to cook in the driving rain.

never mind. We made s'mores and drank hot chocolates and grilled lobsters and crabs and fresh mackerel (caught by our camping neighbours). We covered ourselves in our waterproof trousers and rain coats and pulled on our wellies and just ignored the wet weather.

Captain, My Captain

I need to post one last but most deserved article about the man who made last week possible and without whom we could not have had such an amazing adventure.

My husband, Marc, showed us the way and kept us safe. He steered. He navigated. He winched. He demonstrated tremendous patience with us of less experience. He explained (sometimes numerous times) the finer art of sailing. He referenced tide tables again and again. He checked the weather forecast endlessly.

Mostly he kept us safe. And he did a fine job.

I am so proud of my husband. I am proud he is my husband. And my Captain.

Gale Force 8

I have a shirt which says "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but a gale force 8 excites me." What was I thinking?

Arriving in Lymington made me feel like we were home safe and sound. The showers were amazing and made me feel like a new person. I jut wanted to stay right there. I had neglected to give even the slightest consideration to the fact that we still had to get to our home marina in Gosport which was still a 3 hour sail away.

We enjoyed a leisurely morning and breakfasted on land at Vanilla Pod in Lymington, highly recommended although the service was a bit slow. The American Breakfast was superb. Bit of a shame though when the fressh squeezed oj machine broke down. We did some shopping at the T&G shop which is closing down and snagged a few bargains. We were delaying our departure hoping that the wind would die down a bit. It just wasn't happening.

So at 12:30 we set off down the channel. It got worse as we headed out of the marina. The Isle of Wight ferries were being blown sideways and with our engine full on we could barely move south. But once we turned east the wind was over our stern and with the tide's assistance we were moving at a clip.

We couldn't let the sails up because it was blowing a gale force 8. Seriously! Never mind! We still did 8 knots through the water although 3 of that was tide. We had a brief rain storm just before we turned into Portsmouth harbour but I took the children below deck and we stayed nice and dry.

Unpacking the boat was tedious and we had massively over catered particularly since we didn't eat during a couple entire days due to illness. We arrived back home last night 7:30 and got take away pizza and pasta.

My legs are still wobbling and rooms sway if I stand still for long. Marc says it will be several days before my body adjusts back to normal. My face is sun/wind burned despite sun block and little exposure to the sun. I have bruises in odd places and my manicure is ruined (although I only broke one nail during the entire trip and that was in Lymington Marina)!

My sense of accomplishment and pride is soaring. I am so proud of myself and my family and our friends. You see the character of a person when all is stripped away and I can't imagine there being a group of individuals that would have made a better crew or companions. We laughed and very briefly had a few tears. But mostly we laughed. At the situation, at each other, at ourselves.

Would I do it all over again? In a heartbeat!

Cherbourg Day 2

We needed a rest. Every one of us were exhausted. Our muscles ached. Our minds were weary and our bodies weakened. We ate a large breakfast of croissants and pain au chocolate with large cups of coffee. We then set about getting the ourselves and the boat cleaned and tidied up. It was a mess. We were too. Feeling a bit better but not completely recovered we decided to have a look at Cite de la Mer (Museum of the Sea).

Walking on land felt very strange for the children and Abigail told us she felt drunk. I wonder how she knows what it feels like. We had a look at the reception area of the museum but balked at the 18 euro entrance fee per person since we wanted a diversion for a few hours rather than a full day.

We made a quick run to the market for a few provisions (mostly batteries for the GPS) and then prepared to set sail.

Now some of you may think us crazy for sailing after the ordeal of yesterday. But I knew that if we didn't get right back on the water my children may decide they didn't like sailing which just wouldn't do. Abigail had a bit of a moan saying she never wanted to sail again. So we locked her in the forward cabin (just kidding) and set off.

The sun was shining. The wind direction was perfect for the direction we wanted to go (and come back). It was warm and the sea was calm(ish). We assured the children this was not another epic journey.

Indeed it was a dream sail. At the end of the sail Abigail was even up on the side of the boat admitting that she was having a great time. Sebastian was starting to understand the science beyond the wind on the sails. We even got Kerry to have a steer at the helm. And she smiled the entire time. Yesterday we had numerous minor injuries: banged fingers, cut knuckles, bumped heades, bruised knees. Today it was a text book sail with everyone returning to port in a good mood. OK, that's if you don't count a couple failures to tack due to short boat speed but that's down to our own laziness.

Tomorrow unfortunately we won't be so lucky I fear. Hurrican Bill is headed our direction and a Force 7 won't do any of us any favours. We may head east up the coast to St Vaast. But I am slightly worried about the return journey. But today is Tuesday and I'm not going to worry about that. We will probably not have wi-fi there but don't worry about us if you don't hear.

We are having a blast!

The Channel Crossing Part 1

Arrived in Gosport on Sunday early evening full of optimism and high hopes for a pleasant crossing on Monday. Marc and I had decided that it was a great idea to take the children across the English channel to France on a sail boat. We invited two friends, Kerry and Eddie, to be crew. We hired a 38' Barvaria boat and carefully packed and planned. Marc got all of his required certifications in order. We were rearing to go.

Kerry and Eddie arrvied an hour or so after us and after getting the boat sorted we took the ferry over to Southampton and enjoyed a gorgeous dinner al fresco in some of the best summer weather we've had all year. My optimism swelled. This was going to be soooo much fun.

Sleep was hard to come by overnight as I was frightened we wouldn't wake up for the required silly early departure time. At 4:30 am I viewed Venus shining brightly in as the rising sun changed the colour of the sky to pale oranges, yellows and finally read marvelling at other people exhibiting equally poor judgement at this insane hour. I could see the weariness in their eyes and maybe for the first time thought this might not be such a good idea. Something about red sky in the morning = shepard's warning. Trying desperately not to panic or wake the rest of the boat I got the coffee on and prepared for a small, quick breakfast. Finally everyone one else stirred at 5:30 am and bang on 6:00 am we set off in a dead calm.

The first few hours the sea was like a mill pond. It was hard to believe that we weren't just on a small lake. No wind, no waves, no swell, and a strong tide in the opposite direction meant we were going nowhere fast. We motored for quite a bit although not nearly as long as we should have. Seb was desperate to sail so we prayed for wind. The power of our prayers for a bit more wind came in all at once. And then the seas roughened. The wind was right on our nose so we had the sails tight in and the boat was tipped right over so much that a simple cup of tea became an impossibility.

Abigail was the first sailor to feel the effects of the bopping and swaying. Kerry held her over the side right up until the point that Kerry started hurling over the side. This pattern continued for the remainder of the 15 hour epic journey. Thank goodness no one wanted to eat because we quite simply couldn't have made anything. Any more than 1 minute under deck and the tummy started doing somersaults. Sebastian only had one spectacular event hurling over the side.

But undoubtably the 1st pplace gold medal prize goes to Abigail who never whined, never cried, never moaned, never complained. She sat on deck in the spray, the wind, the cold and just hung on. Sebastian comes in at a close second by fortuitously lifting everyone's spirits at the very end of the journey when we all were disheatened and thoroughly fed up he started singing, telling jokes and stories, and pretending to surf. He helped to keep Abigail warm by cuddling up with her.

Abigial announced that she could hardly wait to get to France so she could have a croissant. We must have laughed for 30 minutes. Here this wee little angel was wet, cold, miserable with sick in her hair and all she wanted was a croissant. Bless her!

We finally entered the harbour and moored at the marina. I have never been happier. Abigail and I went for a hot hot hot shower whilst the boys prepared some soup and bagels.

It could have been so much worse. It could have been raining. It could have been colder. The wind could have been stronger. The waves could have been bigger. The children coul dhave been crying and freezing. And althought it was the worst sea conditions I've ever sailed in, I am so proud of my children and us as a family. This was an adventure of a lifetime. And it's only just begun!

A Map to Lulworth Cove

After Stonehenge we headed to the beach given that it was such a gorgeous sunny day. Unfortunately, my husband doesn't really believe in maps. And he won't ask directions. So we spent nearly 2 hours driving around in circles in Dorset looking for Lulworth Cove. The good news is it was worth it. The bad news is we could have driven straight there if he'd just referenced a map and spent quite a bit more time on the beach. As it was everyons's nerves were frazzled and my mother looked like a pretzel all tangled up in the back seat with the children.

Once we got her straightened out though we taught her how to act like a Brit on the beach! Sandy biscuits and the ever present threat of rain and/or darkness did not dampen our spirits.

Lulworth Cove is on the Jurassic Coast in Dorset on the southwest coast of England. Amazing fossils of numerous prehistoric creatures continue to be found here. And there is no end to the surprises of the rock pools!

Bailey loved it most of all!

Stonehenge

Besides jetting (or training) off to Paris we also did some sightseeing a bit closer to home.

Paris 2009

I remember the very first time I went to Paris. I walked out of Gare du Nord and asked my travelling companion to pinch me. I asked her to do it again as we approached the Eiffel Tower. My love affair with Paris has never died. Although with a new family of 2 toddlers it isn't really the first choice of holiday destinations, my obsession with Paris had cooled.

My mother had never been to Paris and it was definitely on her bucket list of things to do in her lifetime. It seemed a logical conclusion then that after a few days at Disneyland we would move on over to the City of Lights.

And so we made our way to Paris via the RER (train). As we began the walk to our hotel I realised that one of the streets we were walking down was clearly a red light district as I hurried the children past the doors of establishments with women in their lingerie lounging about. Luckily the children didn't even notice. Well, not that first night anyway. Seb did ask a few nights later why those women always had their pajamas on and I left Marc to answer that one.

We checked in and once mom got over the shock of there not being an elevator in the hotel we set off for the short walk up to Sacre Coeur for the breath taking view. We had dinner at a lovely (if a little touristy) restaurant and sighed at Paris by night.

We fit in the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and the Arc de Triomphe the next day. We caught some staggering performances by street musicians.

We found an excellent guide to 12 Renaissance masters to help the children (and us) navigate the Louvre. The children loved looking for dogs and parrots and various assorted oddities in the paintings.

We enjoyed the sweet delights of Angelina's on the rue de Rivoli and watched a street protest of teachers. what is Paris without a protest march?

We savoured the culinary delights at the Grizzli Cafe as they tolerated our atrocious attempts at mastering the French language.

The children ran around the Pompidou Centre whilst we sat at an outdoor cafe drinking beers and cafe au lait (not together).

We only got grandma trapped in a turnstile once (which left a hideous bruise) and knocked her glasses off her face once (another wee bruise). Marc and I got off a metro without grandma and the children only once so we must try harder to lose them next time.

On the way home we met a mad French woman (who face painted Abigail) and a lovely Italian couple whilst we enjoyed some seriously smelly French cheese and baguette.

A trip full of a lifetime of memories!

Disneyland 2009

I have finally found some time (or stopped running about at 100 mph) long enough to get some photos from our trip to Disneyland loaded for all to enjoy. We had a great time!

Abigail was so excited so just bounced up and down all day and night. Sebastian was really into riding the rides. Except for Big Thunder Mountain which we accidentally took both children on (in the last 2 cars) with not a single adult realising until it was too late just what a big scary rollercoaster it is. I think I might have put them off riding roller coasters for the rest of their lives.

My favourite part of the day was the parade. The first day we didn't quite know what to expect and didn't have very good seats. But the second day we knew what we were doing and had fabulous seats.

Abigail's favourite was Small World. She must have went round 10 times. She would get to the end and immediately want to go again. That song played over and over in my head for days.

Sebastian's favourite was a tie between Star Tours and Buzz Lightyear Laser. Star tours was an amazing outer space flight simulation. I just pretended I was Princess Leia and kept looking out for Hans Solo. Marc and Sebastian were really good at the laser game but my other, abigail and I were hopeless. The boys were scoring in the 5 digits whilst we were just happy to score above 2000.

Marc's favourite was the Big Thunder Mountain despite the fact that Abigail was frightened to death and Sebastian was white as a ghost.

Mom says she was just happy to be anywhere with us.

The weather was divine. Sunshine and blue skies graced us every day. Who would have thought I would need to bring sun block and that we didn't need our winter coats?

Get Ready

We are coming to the good ol US of A!

This summer!!!!!

I am so excited!

My family reunion is held every year in the heartland of Nebraska and we have missed the last couple years due to diary conflicts. But not this year!

We'll spend the week before the reunion in Missouri with my Dad and Stepmother. The children are begging me to make sure Popa (that would be my Dad) takes them fishing!

Then the week after the reunion we will stay with my sister and her family in Lakewood, Colorado (just west of Denver) and visit my brothers and their families, my Mother and Stepfather, and hopefully, I'll be able to hook up with a few more friends than I've done the last couple times.

If I'm really lucky I'll even get to catch a baseball game (or two)!

Oh, I can hardly wait!