Going to the chapel

Saturday was the big family wedding as my sister, Cheryl, got married to my now bother-in-law, Steve. It was a great day, kicking off with the bridesmaids turning up at 9 in the morning to have hair, nails and make up done. I swiftly exitted to my brothers where we prepared ourselves for our role as ushers and photographers by sitting around and eating KFC.

The wedding ceremony was at a beautiful old church where the rain just about held off, followed by a bit of a dance, some food, far too much drink and the odd cigar at a nearby pub. Here are a few pre-release pics from the wonderful day...

Oi...get your mitts off my sister!




You wouldn't have thought this was possible when they turned up in pyjamas at nine in the morning...



Busy being ushers (I want that poster on the wall behind me!)...

Whilst I felt the role of usher was very easy on the day, the next day was a far tougher challenge, being woken up at 8am, feeling sick to the extent that I took a spare carrier bag "just in case" to the hotel where Cheryl and Steve were staying. Here we diligently plastered their car with crazy crap, mostly from the recycling bin.

And that was that, the rest of sunday was spent lazing and eating, which I have to say is a perfect way to spend a sunday!

Wetcountry la la la

Arriving back into Plymouth was a bit strange…a mixture of the odd and familiar. The friggin’ rain was all too familiar that’s for sure, but whilst the first couple of days were partial washouts I did manage to get some rest, squeeze in a pasty and catch up on photos and blog writing. Friday morning started bright and while this didn’t last long it was enough for a short jaunt into town to see what had changed and what hadn’t. Besides a new shopping centre, which is just like any other shopping centre in the world, much was the same. Thankfully little had changed on the Hoe, where Smeaton’s Tower was glowing and old people and alcoholics stared endlessly out to sea.

I walked the walk I have probably walked 100 or more times in my life, along the Hoe foreshore taking in the deserted Tinside open air lido, the rocky foreshore dotted with small stony Plymouth beaches (only for the desperate bather), the ice cream vans having another slow day and people frolicking with dogs on the banks of the Citadel. Turning the corner, the Barbican, which is the old maritime bit of Plymouth, came into view.

Whilst there are some interesting historical sights on the Barbican I am delighted to report that Plymouth has its own piece of down-under-ness courtesy of a giant prawn on a stick. No tacky souvenir shop attached and a bit more understated but any visiting Aussies would surely make a beeline for this before the Elizabethan House or National Marine Aquarium.

The Barbican also has its fair share of eateries and pubs, many looking quite fancy and la-di-da these days with these continental outdoor terraces and the like. But you can’t beat traditional wholesome grub and nowhere is as traditional or as wholesome as Cap’n Jaspers. I didn’t eat here this time but happy memories of half a yard of hot dog and giant Jasperizer burgers came flooding back.

My mind riddled with BSE with extra onions and double cholesterol, I walked on down Southside Street, the home of tourist tat, pasty shops and Plymouth Gin, past the once frequented Notte Inn and Favourite Foods, up by the Merchant’s House and St Andrews Church and eventually onto a good old number 16 bus home. £1.45 single?! Extortionate…it wasn’t that much back in my day!

Itza nica slice

Following a few days in London and wedding number one up in Northamptonshire (congratulations Sarah & Chris), I was off to Milan for a brief visit to see Luca and Valentina. The flight took me past Geneva and the Alps, crossing Turin and descending into the heat of Milan. We headed from the airport to the small town of Vignate, where Luca and I enjoyed a meal of meat and seafood whilst several mosquitoes enjoyed a meal of Luca and I.

After a balmy night we headed up to Lake Garda and the town of Sirmione. Here the old town, complete with castle, narrow cobblestone streets and Roman ruins sat on a headland surrounded by the beautiful waters of the lake and surrounding mountains. Again, it was a pleasure to wander around and see the history and architecture which was typically Italian in parts. Brightly coloured buildings punctuated with shuttered windows and adorned with radiant plants and flowers mingled with pizzerias, coffee shops and gelaterias, all of which were sampled as a matter of course.

From the old town a road meandered past grand hotels to some Roman ruins, no doubt scene of much debauchery of some Emperor during his summer holidays. A bit like Falaraki these days probably. Being the height of summer and a Monday, the ruins were closed because someone obviously needed a day off. This was a shame but we took the opportunity to laze about beside the lake, from where some of the ruins, and the distant mountains were visible.

After much lazing around, a hot walk led back to the car and a drive back to Vignate where we ventured out for some dinner at a local pizzeria. I had a delicious Calzone which to my delight resembled a large Cornish pasty!!

Now this is the part of my blog where I usually show the token pictures of people to prove I have some friends! To spare you all though, and preserve the mystique of Luca Ferrari, I will avoid showing the one bad picture I have which includes Luca and instead just show you Valentina and her pizza, putting on a brave face despite the Mozzies and being under contract for some 2 months now! Seriously though, thanks for putting me up for a couple of days and enjoy Mexico…make sure you stop and take plenty of pictures Valentina!

The next morning I had to leave my hosts and venture out alone using public transport. Being the cosmopolitan world traveler than I am however I managed this OK, eventually reaching the heart of Milano – Duomo, with the ever astonishing Cathedral.

I stayed around this area, trawling the streets, having two or three coffees watching the world go by. Now, obviously Milan is known for fashion and I was clearly out of place in my daggy grey shorts, cheapo blue T shirt and white socks and trainers (I know, never a good look but I was short of clothes). I was still quite amazed sometimes though at just how good looking some of the people were! It was quite a pleasure sitting down drinking some good coffee and watching the world go by.

Strangely, maybe to counterbalance the attractiveness, there were a few sculptures and statues around of plump looking ladies, maybe as a reminder to those beautiful people shopping to avoid the McDonalds sitting out of place in the grand shopping arcade?!




I was killing time now until my flight was due to leave, so I wandered some more and sat down at one of the restaurants lining the streets for some lunch. As I hadn’t done pasta yet I decided it was time for a spot of spaghetti which was, frankly, disappointing but then I guess if you go eat in a touristy place…

And with that, it was into a cab for the ride to the airport and a flight back to London followed by a train through the sunny evening skies of Wiltshire and Somerset down to finally, at last, Plymouth Devon England. Home.

London Calling

I spent a few days in good old London town and really enjoyed my time there. Part of me was tourist, part local, catching up with old haunts and even older faces. I was staying in my old neck of the woods – Finchley in North London and took an amble down memory lane one morning. Victoria Park, where I would very infrequently play tennis or go for a fog walk, Long Lane and our old house with plenty of weeds in the garden to keep the landlord happy, the old bus stop, Tasties Café, The Joiners Arms. A few things had changed, there were a couple of new cafes, the dodgy kebab shop at the end of Long Lane had become even dodgier looking and ‘coatman’ was absent, but mostly things looked pretty much as they should be.

The highlight of course was a trip to Tesco, were I could find every type of food item I wanted and knew where to find it plus much more than just food. Coles, pah, rubbish. Now who said Londoners were miserable? The checkout girls in Tesco were having a right proper laugh and so friendly and happy they wanted their picture taken as they scanned Barbecue Oak smoked crisps and Raspberry Trifle. I couldn’t imagine that happening with the preschool girl serving me some crappy Yogurt (and pronouncing it incorrectly too) in Coles! Pah, Coles!

More lashings of nostalgia were served up at Finchley Central tube station, where some improvements seemed to be taking place. The Northern Line was running for a start, but also they had some nice sounding woman telling me what train was next and going where and they had new screens dazzling me with information. The tube whizzed me in twenty first century comfort (okay I’m exaggerating now) into town where I got off to do some more touristy wanderings around the river and West End. It’s such a great area to amble, as many do, crossing the Thames with views upriver to St Pauls and the City, the London Eye looming everywhere and Parliament appearing round the corner.

Now, obviously in this climate of unease and constant bombardment that we should live in fear of terrorism there is much security evident in London. In fact, around City Hall and the London Eye, Emperor Livingstone had taken unprecedented steps to maintain our safety.

Crossing Westminster bridge I dodged the tacky souvenirs, busy people pretending to be in a rush to get somewhere because they are so busy, tourists taking endless pictures (aka me!) and people selling dodgy hot dogs and chestnuts to unsuspecting Americans.

Around Parliament Square there was the usual stream of traffic, the good old black cabs and red buses and yet more tourists taking weird and wonderful pictures. Goodness, London town is a popular place to be I tell ya.

They even have these ever so strange red boxes with these weird ringing communication devices contained within, decorated with lots of cards telling me that I can get a Thai Massage from Miss Pauline of Dagenham. What, take a picture of that and show it to the kids at home?!

It was time to get away from the traffic but not necessarily masses of people by moving onto St James Park. I have to say, the park was looking beautiful, so lush and full of flowers and majestic trees, neatly manicured lawns and slightly grimier looking ponds. This place, of course, surrounds Liz’s pad, a nice little palace with a few rooms for the occasional visitor.

There seemed to be some kind of royal event going on, a garden party perhaps, as there was a disproportionate quota of suits and hats and fascinators and big gold town hall chains and gowns around. I, clearly, wasn’t invited so I trekked on through Green Park, where, like most people, it wasn’t really worth basking on a deckchair in the now very limited sunshine.

People were having fun round here though, a veritable oasis of play in the heart of London. Whilst some people were playing with the more standard Frisbees and footballs (‘soccerballs’ for those reading this down under), others were doing strange things with sheets and sticks. Bemused, it was time to rejoin the sanity of the underground and head towards the City.

Before long I was on Grays Inn Road, the new home of my old workplace. Personally I was a bit disappointed not to visit Hanger Lane, way out west, and marvel in the ingenuity of a tube station in a roundabout and enjoy first class service at the Fox and Goose. It was nice to disturb everyone from their work for a bit, I’m quite good at doing that. After work, we all headed to a pub near Trafalgar Square, where I was quite impressed with the turn out…just goes to show the lure of alcohol I reckon. Getting used to paying in excess of ten pounds for a few drinks was not so good though…my brain was still thinking in terms of Aussie dollars.

So that was most of the exciting stuff from London. I did venture out a little more, to Oxford Street purely to get suited and booted for forthcoming weddings. That was during a torrential downpour which has since saturated half of England. For the most part however London stayed dry and it was nice to be back there for a few days. People were more friendly and happy than I remembered; the tube worked well and was impressive and of course there is always something just round every little corner.

High in the hills were a lonely goat herd

My last full day en Espana was probably the highlight, a trip along the coast east of Alicante and then north of Benidorm into the mountains and the hilltop town of Guadalest. The town is capped by a castle and church, perched high on a rocky outcrop surrounded by Sierra.

Whilst obviously this place attracts tourists, it was not overdone, the shops seemed to fit in with the ambience of the town and it wasn’t ten Euros for an ice cream. We had a spot of lunch before Mum & I climbed several slopes and steps to the top of the castle. It was warm work but worth it for the views and cold beer afterwards. Here are several pictures of our day out…