Europe – Maz On The Road

Prince Charles, The Bears and “It’s Not OK!!” (Romania)

October 1, 2021November 19, 2024Posted in Europe, Romania, Travel1 Comment

When I met Original Travel Companion (OTC) Helen at Bucharest airport I was fairly surprised that we had got this far, with Helen making her first trip abroad since we went to Greece almost exactly one year ago, and me half expecting to get stopped after listing all of my previous destinations on the passenger locator form and being sent down the ‘Orange’ Covid line instead of ‘Green’ when I got off the plane. But we made it and the first stop of our week in Romania was it’s capital, Bucharest, where our funky hotel room included a welcome glass of fizz but no windows and a thumping bass line from the next door clubs that kept us up all night (Marianne’s snoring didn’t help either – OTC Helen).

There is a certain theme to Bucharest night life

We set off for breakfast on Saturday morning and soon heard the three words that would become the theme of our trip – “its not OK!!“. In order to enter a restaurant in Romania, even outside, you need a Covid ‘green pass’, proof of vaccination. Thanks to Brexit (again), our NHS barcodes failed to register, with an ‘signature invalid’ error flashing up on the screen when the surly waiter scanned our phones. Despite it showing our names and vaccination dates, apparently “it’s not OK!”. But after some convincing, he let us sit outside.

Whilst Bucharest old town is pumping at night, it’s a ghost town in the morning. This made for some good sightseeing as we made our way on foot up to Herastrau Lake, wondering where everyone was on Saturday afternoon. We found out where they all were when we had the naive idea that we could have lunch in a lakeside restaurant. After at least three attempts to get into any type of restaurant to eat anything, by now it was clear that our vaccine passport was most definitely “not OK!!” as we were turned away by the manager of an empty Steakhouse. “You’re not OK” said Helen under her breath, as we settled for a coffee and two cookies at the only place that would let our dirty selves through the door, wondering how we would eat for the next week.

Bikers at the Parliament, second largest administration building in the world

Time for some history and a visit to the former home of Nicolae Ceaușescu, communist leader of Romania from 1974 to 1989. We didn’t book in advance for the mandatory guided tour so ended up paying double by booking tickets with ‘GetYourGuide’ where despite the instructions clearly saying a guide would meet us outside, holding a sign, there was nobody in sight. We eventually found a cross looking man hanging around inside with a pair of tickets who told us “I’ve been calling you but your phone is dead!!“. So far Romanians were not proving the friendliest of people.

Protective shoes are required inside the mansion

We both remembered filling shoeboxes for Romanian orphanages as kids, making the decadence of this house even more obscene. The teenage kids had their own lavish apartments, each with bathrooms big enough to house the entire family. The house is stuffed full of gifts from the world leaders, including a chess board presented by the President of Syria, and some crockery from our own Queen Elizabeth. The decor is garish at best.

Helen did some Wikipedia research as the woman who showed us around seemed fairly sympathetic to the Ceaușescu family. In the 1960s the state taxed the childless and encouraged women to give birth to at least 5 children, banning abortion and contraception in an effort to increase the population. As a result over 150,000 children were placed in state orphanages, whose deterioration coincided with the fall in living standards due to Ceaușescu’s obsession with paying off national debt at all costs. Many of the children were not actually orphans, but had parents who could not afford to keep them and who one day intended to get them back. By the time Ceaușescu and his wife were convicted of “economic sabotage and genocide” and immediately executed by firing squad in 1989, over 20,000 children had died in the orphanages with countless cases of neglect and cruelty particularly amongst the disabled.

Back in the Old Town and in the mood for something lighter, we successfully infiltrated the Sky Bar for some games and even found a craft beer pub where a nice man with a beard decided it was OK to give us a table outside and we felt less like outcasts (Marianne is very tolerant of my craft beer habit – OTC Helen).

If you Google ‘is it worth visiting Bucharest?’ the first thing that comes up is ‘don’t bother’ but I always think it’s good to see the capital city of the country you’re in. Maybe excluding Podgerica in Montenegro. One day is definitely enough, so we took the 2.5 hour train north to Brasov, paying just €4 extra for first class seats and an attendant offering ready made cups of coffee.

Brasov is at the foot of the Carpathian mountains and has a distinctintly different feel to Bucharest. We didn’t see any Sexy Ladies clubs and our accommodation was a quirky little boutique hotel called Vila Katharina where the woman who seemed to be running the place was dressed in what we assume was traditional style, and poured us a shot of Palinka (local fruit brandy) on arrival. Our bathroom rivalled Ceaușescu’s, with it’s lavish rug and free standing bathtub with entirely more tasteful gold taps. (Confit of duck with a glass of prosecco for breakfast? Why not?! – OTC Helen)

I liked Brasov apart from the real life Mickey Mouse who was hanging around the centre (no idea why). It was also an opportunity to finally see a Brown Bear in the wild. Visiting a bear hide is something we considered the ethics of before signing up to a slightly more expensive and smaller group trip that would take us further up into the mountains. Romania has Europe’s biggest brown bear population (apparently home to over 60% of them) with around 6,000 living in the Carpathians. Sadly until the EU introduced welfare laws, it was common to see dancing bears on street corners and performing in circuses – many of these bears are now in sanctuaries and cannot be released. The problem now is that the wild bear population is not all that far from the more rural villages, and bears do sometimes come into contact with humans when looking for food.

This bear is approximately 14 years old, over 2 metres tall and 300 kg

I decided to visit a bear hide, viewing them safely behind a mirrored window, as I felt that generating income for people in these areas is overall a good thing and encourages the protection rather than hunting of bears. However, I was not completely comfortable with the fact that corn is provided at the hides, allegedly to feed the deer population, which a few of the local bears then come to eat. Our guide, who was a total bear enthusiastic, strongly believed this also discourages the bears from looking for food in the villages, although this likely means they can never stop feeding at the hide.

Back in Brasov and tired out, we couldn’t face the rigmarole of politely asking for a table for two, showing our vaccine passes, pretending to be surprised when it inevitably throws an error and hearing ‘its not OK!!’ yet again so we tried the traditional Chimney Cake from a street stand instead. My savoury version with avocado was far better than the ‘veggie burger’ I had the day before where the main ingredient of the veggie burger was missing, the actual veggie burger.

Helen was very excited for her Chimney Cake

Aside from bears, people come to Romania to see the castles. Unfortunately most things are shut on Monday as I should know by now, so we could not visit Peles castle, or even go up Brasov’s cable car. We could, however, make a trip to Bran Castle after midday. This is where travelling in a pair is great as we could share the cost of a taxi and pay the driver to wait for us (The taxi driver appeared to be watching a DJ set as he drove though… – OTC Helen).

Bran Castle is commonly referred to as Dracula’s Castle, only because it fits the description of the home of Bram Stoker’s fictional Transylvanian Count – a castle perched high up on rock. We really enjoyed exploring the inside of the castle and learning about Queen Marie to whom the castle was gifted in 1920, once described as “the only man in Romania” due to her ballsy approach.

Helen and I like to encorporate the more unusual styles of accommodation into our travels – we did stay in Junkyard in Hawaii after all. So when she mentioned a friend of hers had stayed close to a house belonging to HRH Prince Charles, I knew we had to go. It turns out Prince Charles owns a few properties in Translyvania, including Count Kalnoky’s estate in the Zalán Valley, due to his family links with the area. This is also a guesthouse with proceeds going into community projects via The Princes Trust, offering a rural experience with an all inclusive package of meals served in the dining room, daily guided activities and “discrete staff”.

Our little cottage was very picturesque, the only noise being distant cowbells and red squirrels chomping on nuts up in the tree outside our door. We were again greeted with a glass of Palinka by a housekeeper otherwise known as ‘The Cook Lady’ and a large cartoon character of a man with missing front teeth otherwise known as ‘Mr Circular Saw’, neither of whom spoke more than a few words of English. Mr Circular Saw gained his name as soon after arriving I realised I had locked the key to my bag inside my bag and could no longer open the padlock, which he cheerfully sawed through with no trouble (Wish I’d filmed this but I was slightly terrified as sparks flew… Of all the places for this to happen, this was the most fortuitous – we wouldn’t have found a Mr Circular Saw in Bucharest! Also, I can’t believe Marianne hadn’t made this error sooner… OTC Helen).

Only the squirrels for company

We were in agreement that “discrete staff catering to your needs” was a definite oversell as they didn’t even make the bed. This may have been because we were the only guests? Lack of English was also a issue when the guide for our daily activity waited in a different place at a different time for a different activity, and Mr Circular Saw, who was anything but discrete, would come booming in at mealtimes to ask ‘OK?? PROBLEM?!’ to which we would shout back ‘OK!! NO PROBLEM!!”. I think he was quite disappointed there were no more padlocks to saw off, and The Cook Lady would probably have liked to have gone home early instead of hanging around to cook our dinner.

Now looking to be in his 60s, our Hungarian Super Guide was an ex-competitive mountain climber, a mountain rescue and real life Bear Grylls who has travelled the world leading expeditions. HRH must be paying him over the odds to be taking two British tourists on a sedate walk through the forest in the pouring rain where the only wildlife we saw were three brightly coloured salamanders. He didn’t even need to use the chilli spray he carries everywhere in case of Romanian sheep dog attacks (Helen is still scared of dogs after her Sri Lankan chase). I have never met anyone who knows as much about everything as the Hungarian Super Guide, with his multiple degrees, who explained that Translyvania used to be part of Hungary.

Mushrooms are everywhere and formed the vegan option at every meal.

We spent a lazy, rainy afternoon playing games and drinking wine by the fire and enjoying having the farmhouse to our ourselves. Until it got dark and The Cook Lady went home and we realised that a) as the only guests we were now probably completely alone on what could easily be the setting for a horror movie and b) we could not get any more wine as she had locked the kitchen door.

Our activities included a Horse and Cart ride driven by our favourite Mr Circular Saw, who is also known as the Horse Whisperer. We spent a fun two hours trying not to fall out of the cart as he whistled and made various strange noises, including shouting ‘OH MY GOD!!!’. As I’m writing this on the plane home, Helen has just raised the question as to whether or not he even worked at the estate.

The final leg of our Romania tour was meant to be the beach, until the weather had other ideas. We stayed in a beautiful Airbnb apartment in the Black Sea resort of Mamaia, sandwiched between the lake and the sea. Our Superhost picked us up for free from the train station after a five hour journey, and insisted on waiting while we popped into a supermarket as apparently all of the restaurants were closed. As we left all of our stuff in his car I realised either he was about to rob us blind or he was the nicest Romanian we had met so far.

He was just a nice guy and he was also correct in that all of the restaurants were indeed shut aside from one biker hangout which looked like a cool place to play some games. When we heard those three little words ‘It’s not OK!‘ from the manager I was not about to accept that we would have nowhere to eat for the next three days – eventually she gave in and seated us in the far corner so we could not spread our germs to anyone else in the empty restaurant.

Quite different to the Agean Sea

Whilst it didn’t offer sunbathing, Constanta did provide the opportunity for one more New Activity – Uber Scooters! We saw them lying around and decided to ride them down to Constanta Old Town. I thought it was a bit strange that the speed didn’t go over 1kmph – we could walk faster – but we had fun riding up and down the coastal path until all of a sudden I heard a shriek. Helen had shot off into the distance, as though, in her words, she had picked up a speed boost mushroom in Mario Kart. My own scooter gained a life of its own a few seconds later. Unable to control them alongside traffic and pedestrians we gave up, puzzled by what had happened until we learned we had been in a restricted speed area, presumably crossing an invisible line.

Scooter in slow mo

The last couple of days were spent enjoying our lake view apartment, watching the sunsets, going for walks as well as our first Romanian Face Massage, a slightly scary but satisfying experience.

All of a sudden, Romania concluded my ten weeks ten countries tour. Ironically it was getting home to the UK that caused me the most hassle as after examining my Passenger Locator Form, Vaccine Passport and negative Covid Test, the Wizz Air checkin woman told me to step aside as her supervisor was calling the British police. This is not what you want to hear at an airport. I was relieved to find out I was not actually being arrested on return as Helen wondered, but incredulous to find out it was “not OK‘” that my Covid test was not verified by a Romanian company. This was complete BS, as the UK entry requirements displayed on a huge poster right in front of her stated and as was eventually confirmed a tense ten minutes later by whoever her supervisor had called. A jobsworth at security followed by “random” swabbing of hands and feet were the final obstacles – despite not wanting my summer travels to end it’s safe to say I have never been so happy to board a flight home.

When I took 3 months off work in July, people said don’t bother as you won’t be able to go anywhere, don’t you know there is a pandemic?! Actually it provided the opportunity to visit a totally new part of the world, starting with a one way ticket to Montenegro. The Balkans are unlike the rest of Europe, definitely not the easiest place to travel and it takes time to get around but that is part of the charm. Ten weeks and ten countries later, I have visited Wales, Scotland, Montenegro, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Albania, Serbia, North Macedonia, Kosovo, Greece and Romania – my advice is to just go!

The Road to Romania, from Albania to Athens

September 28, 2021November 19, 2024Posted in Albania, Europe, Greece, Travel1 Comment

A bit of an explanation is needed as to how I ended up in Greece. For the final week of my trip I had arranged to meet Original Travel Companion Helen, in Romania. At the time when we made this plan, Romania seemed the perfect choice being both on the UK’s Green List and on bus routes to neighbouring countries Serbia, Macedonia, and Bulgaria. My initial plan was to take the train from Macedonia into Bulgaria enroute to Romania – until Bulgaria closed it’s borders to non-EU citizens. Thanks Brexit! My second plan was to bus it from Serbia into Romania – until the bus route was cancelled. Thanks Covid! My third route was a bus from Macedonia into Thessanoliki, Greece then fly into Romania. Also cancelled. By this point we had decided we would quite like to visit Romania so my route of choice became a €10 bus from my current location of Prizren, Kosovo, back into neighbouring Albania, followed by a flight from Tirana to Athens, giving me the opportunity to spend a few days there before a flight to Bucharest to meet Helen.

All good until my body chose the one and only morning where I had absolutely no time to spare having booked an inter-country bus and a flight on the same day to sleep through my alarm and wake up at the exact moment my bus was crossing the Kosovo / Albania border. Not to worry as money solves most things in the Balkans and I was in the very privileged position of being able to take a taxi all the way from Prizren, Kosovo to the airport in Tirana, Albania. The guy at my hotel reception called his friend who is a taxi driver and assured me he was on his way, he was just stopping off to get a PCR test so he could cross the border himself… 100 euros and just two hours later I was safely at Tirana airport too early to even check in. This is a good example of why it’s a good idea to have an emergency travel fund when you’re short on time. No questions asked as to how the driver got his ‘PCR’ result within 15 mins and never mind that the border police didn’t even look at me sat in the back of the car fully masked up as the driver simply passed our documents through the window.

I arrived in Athens and checked into the strangely named Safestay Hostel where I had to change rooms 3 times and the only selling point was the rooftop terrace with it’s sunset views over the Acropolis.

The next day I hopped onto a bicycle tour of the city, always a good way to orientate yourself and see where you want to come back to. Athens is a great place for trying vegan versions of Greek food – the breakfast at Nudie Foodie, souvlaki at Veganaki and moussaka at Mamma Tierra were all amazing.

The cycle trip with ‘Athens By Bike’ was great although it included the return of the Middle Aged Americans, and the Middle Aged American Couples at that who couldn’t even deal with sitting separately from one another at the ice-cream stop (“this seat is reserved for My Wife”). I actually took delight in cycling between them and seeing them frantically try to catch up again.

I also loved stumbling upon the Remember Fashion punk clothing shop with the guestbook full of my rock heroes.

A visit to the Acropolis musem would probably be a good idea before a visit to the ruins themselves as mostly I didn’t really know what I was looking at, again wondering if I actually attended any history lessons at school or if we really didn’t learn any of this. The Acropolis is something I’ve always wanted to see so here are a few photos even if they have no explanation…

Instead of rushing off for a day trip elsewhere, I had a full day wandering around the city, browsing the ruins and the Natural Archaeological museum. It always fascinates me how jewellery made thousands of years ago is not that different to the styles made today and the hoards of treasures found in the Mycenae graves were enough to keep even a museum skeptic like me interested for a couple of hours.

I couldn’t leave Greece without a trip to the beach. Edem beach is just half an hour outside the city centre by team and was actually very nice with water over 20 degrees Celsius despite the hostel woman telling me otherwise.

And all of a sudden three days in Athens concluded the solo aspect of my European tour – final stop Romania!

Curfews, Bill Clinton and Chain Smoking Hikers (Kosovo)

September 28, 2021November 19, 2024Posted in Kosovo1 Comment

Why visit one Balkan country when you can visit them all?! There was never really any chance that I was going to miss Kosovo out of my tour, even though it wasn’t the easiest place to get to and it didn’t exactly fit with my plan to reach Romania overland. But as is often the case, the greater effort the greater the reward. Since Serbia (and also Russia and China) do not recognise Kosovo as an independent state despite the International Court of Justice ruling Kosovo a sovereign nation in 2010, the order of border crossings is important. If you enter Kosovo via Serbia then leave via another bordering country, you’ll be missing the Serbian exit stamp. Likewise if you try to enter Serbia from Kosovo, there may not be an official record of you entering Serbia.

When I asked people in Belgrade about getting into Kosovo, I always seemed to hit a brick wall with no bus services showing up online. But when I got to North Macedonia, I enquired again and found several daily, direct routes from Skopje to the capital of Kosovo, Pristina which is only a couple of hours away. Result!

The battered old minivan got me into cooler Pristina on time and the rain cleared. Too early to check in to my hostel, I went for lunch and soon realised three things. Firstly just how cheap it is here. Kosovo ranks third on the poorest countries in Europe after Moldova and the Ukraine. A large pizza in a restaurant restaurant cost €1.50. You need to pay for things in cash and you need coins – I don’t think I ever spent more than a few euros in one go. Secondly, there aren’t a lot of tourists, everyone I met asked me where I was from and what football team I support. Thirdly, Pristina was in a semi-lockdown with a 10pm curfew and the police stopped me in the street to ask me (very nicely!) to wear a mask.

Kosovo is Europe’s newest country, as signified by the Newborn monument. There’s even a newborn bus stop. The median age of the population is only 30 years with half of the 2 million residents under 25, who still need a visa to enter the EU which makes travel difficult.

Bill Clinton, whose name you better not mention in Serbia has a statue and an entire street in his name due to his involvement in the 1999 conflict. Hoping to learn more, I went to the tiny and quite charming national musem which appeared closed until I noticed the man sticking his head around the door inviting me to go in. Entry is on a donation basis (I just added to the pile of €5 notes).

The musem entrance displays a huge mosaic made out of staples of that local favourite Mother Teresa, and the other couple of rooms contain various US army clothing and weapons, and some ancient looking artefacts that were on display on podiums without any kind of protection which I was terrified of knocking over. Unfortunately there was no information in English so after looking around long enough to be fairly confident of not offending the man, I went for a wander around the city.

Pristina has a main pedestrian street lined with restaurants where I had one of my weirdest meals so far. ‘Vegetable noodles’ on the menu accompanied by a photograph of Asian style food translated into spaghetti hoops in tomato sauce and such a huge portion that the waiter asked why I didn’t finish it and didn’t I enjoy it.

The upside of a 10pm curfew is a very sociable hostel, where we all headed out early for dinner to avoid a fine then retired to the common room for a few drinks and games of chess.

I had mentioned my plans to head west to the city of Peja the following day, popular for hiking in the Accursed Mountains, when the owner of the Oda hostel, Jeton, suggested an alternative. The “Kosovo Hiking” group go every weekend on an organised hike for just €12. Tomorrow they were going to the mountains and forests around the Lubinjës area, and could conveniently drop me in my next destination of Prizren at the end. This all sounded great except it meant a 5.45 wakeup call. I very nearly called it off in order to continue the curfew party but decided it would be good for me.

Sunday morning I dragged myself and my luggage uphill for the half hour walk to the bus stop where I’d meet the group at 6.30. I came very close to turning back atleast 3 times. Firstly when I saw the rest of the group waiting to board the bus – hiking sticks, walking boots, all the gear on and I realised I didn’t have a lot of information about today. I had simply got a phone number from Jeton and messaged them to put my name down. Secondly, when I asked the guide, kitted out in bright lycra embalazoned with ‘Hike to the Maxxx!’ looking like he’s about to summit Mount Everest, how difficult it was going to be and he cheerfully replied ‘oh its not that difficult, if you’re a hiker’. And thirdly when I realised that I had left my lunch in the hostel fridge but I was assured that we would be stopping to buy supplies. I eventually realised I wasn’t getting out of it so took a seat on the bus.

After an hours drive we had twenty minutes to dash around one of the biggest supermarkets I’ve ever been in, Supermarket Sweep style, flashes of neon clothing everywhere as the 130 people in the group ran around clutching bananas and protein bars preparing for a week’s expedition. My own panic buying was further fuelled by a fellow hiker behind me in the queue trying to be helpful by telling me I didn’t have ENOUGH snacks so I grabbed a handful more.

When we eventually set off I was amazed at the turnout – I can’t see 21 year old British lads going hiking every Sunday morning. The few foreigners on the trip somehow found each other and we formed a little group with Erdisa from Albania translating the rules for us – smoking and playing music is OK, just keep a little distance from the group!

This was a hike like no other – 130 mostly young people, three guides and numerous smoking / rest stops where there were more than enough snacks to go around.

No smoking for our superfit leader, a dentist by day who made it his mission to challenge the stereotype of middle aged hiking groups and get the youth of Kosovo, particularly females, out into nature. His enthusiasm was infectious and as soon as we started climbing and the clouds cleared I remembered I am actually a hiker and I do actually enjoy this!

We stopped at an old UN building at the peak of our hike for a fire and lunch, after passing through some remote Bulgarian villages before getting into the mountains. As well as the stunning views throughout, 8 hours and 20km uphill and downhill is much more enjoyable when you are sharing the experience and having a laugh. Also the stick helped (thanks Art!). Although it was soon apparent that ‘nearly there!’ and ‘half an hour away!’ have no meaning in Kosovo and nobody really knew where ‘there’ was.

My little group of Artrit, Erdisa, Nicasia, Arban and Shotiko

Dropped off in Prizren at the end of a long but satisfying day I treated myself to a nice hotel with a balcony and views over the mountains and went straight to bed.

In daylight I was struck by how much Prizren reminded me of Berat, Albania, which makes sense given that this area is largely Albanian.

Prizren has a very different feel to Pristina, with a beautiful Fortress up on the hillside and an abundance of churches and mosques connected by old cobbled streets. I spent an enjoyable day wandering around, climbing up to the Fortress and not caring that I probably paid way over the odds for some local jewellery.

I made another friend when a gorgeous dog came and sat on my feet. Another one joined us for a walk around the town and I found it amusing when a group of tourists were scared of ‘my’ dogs.

The video from my balcony below sums up the city for me with the call to prayer from the mosques echoing over the party from the bars, with a church in the background.

Kosovo was a late addition to my itinerary and not your usual holiday destination but I highly recommend visiting if you get the chance. This is an incredibly beautiful country with unlimited hiking opportunities, easy enough to navigate between the major cities on public transport and I felt very welcome as a visitor. Now to begin the journey to my final destination Romania, via Albania and Greece…

Detour to North Macedonia

September 20, 2021November 19, 2024Posted in North MacedoniaLeave a comment

When I saw North Macedonia next door to Serbia on the map I knew I had to go there. When else was I going to visit?! A glutton for punishment, I booked a 7 hour bus from Belgrade to Macedonia’s capital city of Skopje (pronounced Skopia), prepared for an uncomfortable ride and long delays. When a huge coach pulled up on time, the driver had an envelope with my name on containing my printed ticket and I found wifi, reclining seats and only a handful of other passengers I wasn’t sure I was even on the right bus. We made a stop for coffee and I enjoyed the mountain scenery, and a smooth border crossing where the customs officer was too busy on a video call to take much notice.

I checked out of my budget hotel early the next morning to bus it a few more hours south to the tranquility of Lake Ohrid, close to the border with Albania (Albanians make up a minority of around 25% in North Macedonia). The man at reception asked me ‘Did you see the statues?’ – I hadn’t -‘Go and look, they cost so much money someone has to see them!’. I put “statues” on my list of things see on my way back through Skopje.

As soon as I arrived in Lake Ohrid I loved it. It gave me a feeling of South East Asia in the Balkans. I booked into Villa Jovan, a traditional style guest house and still only €20 for a room with bathroom, albeit an absolutely tiny room. But I loved the old features and atmosphere.

Looking up at the houses from the narrow streets

With perfect, random timing that occurs when travelling, I got chatting to Nadica who had just returned to her hometown and started helping out at the Villa. She introduced me to Laure from Paris, who by another coincidence I had been sitting at the table next to at lunch. The three of us spent a wonderful evening together having food and drinks and a midnight wander along the wooden bridges to the Fortress. The final piece of the puzzle was that Laure had reserved one extra spot on her boat trip the following day just in case she met anyone at the guesthouse who wanted to go – me, as I had enquired earlier but been told I needed a bigger group!

Ohrid by day is beautiful. You could easily think you’re at the beach rather than the shores of one of the deepest lakes in Europe. A lovely feature is the set of wooden bridges that take you around the lake past a few restaurants and up to the Fortress, and hiking trails provide access through the woodlands, just right for sunset walks.

There are 365 churches in Ohrid, one for everyday of the year. A couple of days here is perfect for strolling throughout the old town drinking proper coffee and sampling Macedonian wine which is really good!

The boat trip turned out to be a beautiful day, with comfy lounger style seats and music playing as we cruised all day, stopping at various monasteries and swimming spots.

Boat trip

One of the more bizarre sights was the ‘Bay of Bones’. This is described as a ‘Reconstructed village of stilt houses displaying Bronze & Iron Age items recovered from Lake Ohrid’. The original settlement is considered to be over 3000 years old, with excavation of mainly animal bones taking place between 1997 and 2005. Nowadays the replica huts are filled with animal skins and pieces of furniture that I couldn’t identify.

I finally saw a tortoise wandering around and a peacock – apparently very dangerous! A sign further along emphasised they can harm not only you but also your children…

Instead of taking the bus back, Nadica introduced me to Macedonian car sharing where you post in a local Facebook group where you want to go and split the cost with others driving that way. I ended up with Harry who seemed to actually be a taxi driver who makes the journey a few times a week and another passenger on her way to gig rehearsals. It made for an interesting journey even though it actually took longer than the bus as Harry drove round for an hour looking for someone he had to drop off a pair of shoes to.

One of the more run down style buildings

North Macedonia, formally know as simply Macedonia, gained independence from Yugoslavia in 1991. It’s another country I had very little knowledge of and unfortunately I didn’t find any history tours to learn more.

Back in Skopje, it didn’t take long to find the famous statues. Constructed as part of the “Skopje 2004” redevelopment in an effort to attract tourism, these things are huge, they are everywhere and there is a joke that there are more of them than people in this city of 600,000. What is clear is that the locals hate them. The biggest is Alexander the Great on a horse and it’s taller than the next door buildings, which is hard to capture in a photo so here is a video.

Even the bridges over the Vardar river, the Art Bridge and the Stone Bridge, are covered in statues, as is the entrance to the largest old bazaar outside of Turkey.

Mother Teresa lived in her hometown of Skopje from 1910 to 1928 so there is a small house dedicated to her, mostly containing photographs. There isn’t much else to do here other than see the statues but I liked Skopje, it is maybe a bit weird but in a good way!

Litter is unfortunately a big problem in the Balkans

One good thing about Skopje is that it has direct bus connections, that are NOT cancelled due to Covid, into neighbouring Kosovo. Now that’s a travel opportunity too good to miss…

House of the Holy War (Belgrade, Serbia)

September 20, 2021November 19, 2024Posted in Serbia1 Comment

I had no pre-conceptions of Belgrade but had a feeling there would be plenty to do over the three nights I was planning to stay whilst I worked out plans for my next destination. What I found was a very cool capital city, with the boats running up and down the river Danube by night playing up to Belgrade’s reputation as party capital of Europe. Partying with 18 year olds doing drugs isn’t my usual scene even on a Saturday night so I gave it a miss in favour of a night time wander around the fortress and a cocktail at the Basta jazz bar with a few of the yoga girls who were also spending a night in the city.

Not sure that Elvis is jazz but we enjoyed it

Apparently some planning in advanced is actually required as I did not know that everything is shut on Mondays, the day I had designated for doing basically everything. I spent the morning walking 20,000 steps back and forth from closed museum to closed restaurant. The one vegetarian restaurant I wanted to visit managed to be closed the entire time I was in the area.

Left to right : communist style flats, Ottoman style house and Austro-Hungarian building in one street

The smaller city of Novi Sad was on my list of places to see in Serbia so I joined a day trip in order to also take in some of the hundreds of churches in the area. I found out on the bus that it also included wine tasting in the picturesque town of Sremski Karlovci, which most of us agreed was actually a case of ‘have a small glass of wine for free’ – very nice Serbian dessert wine but not exactly a wine tasting experience!

We stopped at the Krusedol Monastery which has some really beautiful frescos inside that you are actually allowed to take photos of for once (paintings on the walls). Note that women are not permitted to enter behind the curtain and during services men stand on one side, being below God, and women stand on the other, being below men – something that our female guide said she is fine with. My male tour guide later on in Belgrade said the monks just live off the state and get drunk at funerals, painting a picture of a very corrupt Church in a predominantly Orthodox Christian country.

‘Drunk clock’ – the hands are the wrong way around to make the time easier to see for sailors on the river

Novi Sad itself is small and pretty, with the usual views from a fortress I’ve come to expect in this part of the world. Unfortunately none of us actually got to see any of the city (other than Yelena who had the foresight to do her own thing) as the rest of us opted for a group lunch. This meant we sat at a restaurant for the entire two hours free time, first waiting for food (I twice found chicken in my veggie pasta even after sending it back the first time and eating half of the replacement where they had clearly just tried and failed to pick the pieces out) then waiting to pay where the staff had a meltdown over splitting the bill and shouted at us ‘have you ever been to a restaurant before?’!

The uneventful day ended on a high as I met these two lovely girls, Liesel from South Africa and Yelena from the US. After the tour we bought drinks and watched the sunset over the Danube from the Fortress…. along with half of Belgrade from the number of Instagram photoshoots going on.

Here the kiosks on the street corners don’t just sell you a bottle of cider, they even open it for you. This made us so excited we happily got ripped off by taking a photo with the students hanging around the fortress dressed as soldiers and topping up their beer money.

Chandelier made from bullets in the church at the fortress

You’re free to climb all over the Fortress but as the sign says, entry may result in death

A travel concept that has totally passed me by until now is the ‘air bnb experience’ – thanks Liesel for the recommendation! On her advice I booked my first experience with the lovely Sava who took me and two others on a walk through Belgrade. He showed us some really cool local spots including hidden speakeasies and clubs disguised as run down buildings covered in graffiti, and where to buy a Yugoslavian 1,000,000,000 note.

After the barrage of war history in Bosnia and Herzegovina and Albania, this was much more focused on the Serbia of today. Sava also said there is very low crime in Belgrade as potential muggers know that Serbians will fight back…

I managed to get in the National Museum of Serbia on Tuesday morning. My idea of a museum visit is a quick look around until I’m bored. This is impossible in Belgrade as there is a one way system that the security guards, positioned in every room, will insist that you follow and if you try to skip something, they will somehow know this and make sure you go back and look at that painting. After an hour or so I could not pretend to look at any more European art so made my escape, feeling guilty as one of the guards appeared at the exit to wave goodbye.

One of the interesting paintings on wood that I liked the style of

If they had been open on Monday I would have visited both the Tesla Museum and Tito Museum, but luckily Belgrade is also the perfect place for sitting at pavement cafes, drinking coffee and people watching. Three days was otherwise enough and unable able to resist the lure of another passport stamp I booked onto a bus going south to North Macedonia…

Sunrise, Snakes and Finding Myself (Again) in Serbia (Part One)

September 17, 2021November 19, 2024Posted in SerbiaLeave a comment

When one of the women on the minibus to my next yoga retreat asked “so what is the general feeling on bringing alcohol?” I knew that we would become friends. Eight of us had just joined the bus in Belgrade, driven by a man who was built like the mountains he was transporting us into and who didn’t speak a word of English. My instructions on finding him at the meeting point were ‘he’s a big guy, you can’t miss him – he speaks no English and has a white van’ – what could go wrong?! Nothing as it turns out – when we stopped for delicious food and drinks enroute to the Tara National Park it was apparent that he was a sweetheart as demonstrated by the local kittens who couldn’t get enough of him.

I sold out against my principles to do this entire trip overland and chose to fly to Belgrade from Podgerica, instead of taking the 11 hour train (I was put off by stories of several more hours of delays and operating within a narrow window to enter Serbia with my negative result from a brutal PCR test I did not want to repeat), having signed up for a week with ‘My Yogic Adventure’. The lovely woman behind this brilliant yoga holiday concept is Marija, whose philosophy is if she doesn’t love it, she won’t host it. And this week she is hosting a group of 12 at a traditional mountain lodge in the perfect, peaceful setting on the Tara Mountain, close to the Bosnia and Herzegovina border. It’s so good I don’t really want to share it!

The Lodge is called Tarweek and can also be booked independently, ideal if you have a car. It’s fairly simple (single rooms have shared bathrooms) but has a huge kitchen, living area and the slopes of the mountain as a garden. Best of all is the group of like minded women it has attracted – within a few hours it’s like we’re old friends.

All aboard the school bus on our way to the mountains, we stopped at a small shop to panic buy snacks as only breakfast and dinner are included. Why yoga retreats like to skip lunch I don’t know?! Back to the pressing question, Marija has said that we are all adults and can decide for ourselves if we want to drink or detox, so red wine was added to the shopping list along with a ridiculous amount of bread and dried fruit.

We settled into a daily routine of rising early for silent mornings (that means no talking!) and two hours of yoga and meditation before breakfast prepared by our gorgeous Russian chef Katya who cooks our meals whilst also working as a translator and riding around on her motorbike.

Breakfast is usually followed by a group hike through the forest to one of many viewpoints, before an afternoon yoga / stretching session and wonderful sociable dinners. The days conclude with evening games, stargazing or songs around the fire wrapped in huge blankets – the temperature drops considerably up here and I finally got to make use of my fleece. September is in fact perfect hiking weather, a refreshing change to the heat of the Balkans.

There is an abundance of wildlife in the national park and on the first hike I almost tripped over this beauty, nothing less than a Viper as it was hanging out on the path before making it’s way into the bushes. The unfortunate video commentary ‘it’s just a shoelace’ referred to another much smaller and likely already dead snake, and either Ivana didn’t have her glasses on or Serbians only count the poisonous varieties!

Definitely not a shoelace

Sadly despite many warning signs I didn’t see a single bear (“Bear Brown Lay Down, Bear Black Fight Back, Bear White Good Night”) and I think I was the only person who wanted to see one – but there were plenty of dogs roaming around, observing our yoga practice and accompanying us on sunrise walks. Though this particular dog ensured it was the least silent sunrise of the week.

Take ten after considerable coaching from Emina

No yoga retreat would be complete without a fire, this time accompanied by intention setting under the New Moon, some tunes on the guitar and red wine thanks to second wine instigator Julia.

The night sky here is astounding. You need to be on a mountain to see the Milky Way like this – the following photo is stolen from fellow yogi Sen’s father Darius, the only man on the retreat.

Silent mornings and in particular silent sunrise were a revelation. This is peace and quiet to enjoy the nature but you’re not alone. This type of retreat is not prison – everything is optional – but most people choose to take part in most activities. 20 mins of meditation may seem daunting, as may getting up at 5.30 for sunrise, but when you have the quiet support of people around you it becomes doable. I was further sure this is my kind of yoga retreat when Marija offered me an afternoon expresso and I could enjoy my snacks in public with the rest of the group rather than guiltily in my room like in Montenegro.

Maybe I was lucky to find a group with a wicked sense of humour – laughing is also therapy, proven when we went kayaking and Janet (minibus wine instigator) and I got stuck going in circles as the rest of the group disappeared around the Canyon. Eventually we decided to chill instead of chasing them and had a very relaxing time, arriving back just five minutes before the group – of course nobody believed that we hadn’t been lazing in hammocks the entire time. We found out later that the instructor didn’t completely give up on us, he was apparently checking we were still upright via his mobile phone camera albeit using the zoom facility to the max.

“Go right!” “But where are we going?!” – nowhere as it turned out

One of the more bizarre attractions is the peat bog in Crveni Potok which is fenced off to preserve it (you can jump up and down and feel how springy it is elsewhere in the forest). A sign said it dates back 9000 years but neither Janet nor I could muster much excitement over this particular view.

Mountain fashion isn’t going to cut it in Belgrade

Time flies when you have a routine and all too quickly the week came to an end. I was unsure how I’d survive the city and make my own decisions on what time to eat or what to wear… Separate post on Serbia’s cool capital, Belgrade, coming next.

Namaste Naked Hippies – Finding Myself in Montenegro

August 19, 2021November 19, 2024Posted in Montenegro3 Comments

My friends and I are deep in conversation on a pebbly beach in a beautiful, secluded cove. Nothing particularly unusual about that given that we are in Montenegro, except we each met just a few days ago, we are all stark naked and a man has just informed Keith, the only male in our group, that he ‘likes big sausage’. “Good Lord Sweet Jesus” is American Keith’s response as he declines to go around the corner into the cave. Today the aging wrinklies from Devon have been replaced with beer drinking, young, buff and bronzed Montenegrin men and the women in our group are in hysterics in a ‘now you know how we feel’ manner as we realise they were not in fact checking us out. It seems I’ve found the Hampstead Heath of Buljarica.

To give some context on the above experience, I’ve signed up for a week at the Mahakala Yoga Retreat near Petrovac where getting naked seems to be the name of the game (disclaimer; this is probably not actually part of the official program). The relief of being with others again after the last year or so of lockdown restrictions is immediate – in the stunning villa that fifteen of us are calling home for the next seven nights, there are no masks, no social distancing and hugs are very welcome 🙏.

I may have raved about the water in the UK but this is on another level. My water shoes have come in very handy with the stony beaches particularly when exiting the ocean – the only problem with the naked swimming is how to get out of the water gracefully, i.e. without crawling over the rocks Gollum style.

Mahakala includes daily yoga, some kind of workshop, no alcohol, two meals a day and a ‘digital detox’ which I had hoped would mean a leaving with a flat stomach and calm serenity. What it actually means is binge eating twice your body weight at said mealtimes, daily naps as you can’t move after stuffing your face and never being able to Google something when you actually need to. It would probably be better to visit not in the August heatwave as it is shall we say challenging to exercise in almost 40 degrees Celsius.

This retreat is an opportunity to try different styles of yoga, such as a ‘Yoga meets dance’ class which I knew from the off would be slightly weird, as are most of the afternoon workshops (but in a good way!). “And now slap someone else in the room!” shouts Guilia, our teacher, as we all leap around the room bitch slapping each other and shrieking with laughter. There is no point in going into these things half heartedly – if you sign up for seven days in this type of place you might as well go all in. That includes writhing around like an animal on your mat (one person actually moo’ed like a cow).

The food when it is provided is incredible, both in taste and presentation. At 09.30 and 17.00 the bell rings and we all line up to learn about the ingredients and nutritional content before loading our plates like this is the last supper.

Figs are free, just pick them from the tree

The yoga session I enjoyed the most was a sunrise practice (a few degrees cooler!) down at the specially constructed platform on the beach, followed by an early morning swim. I had already gone into the water in an effort to avoid the wasps when I noticed the rest of the group making their way in minus their swimsuits, every single one of them (did I mention the water is crystal clear?). In for a penny in for a pound as they say – I had to agree it was a very freeing experience to share together.

The schedule includes down time, which is filled by lazing in hammocks, using the roof top Jacuzzi (if the natural filtration system doesn’t send you running for a UTI test), outdoor baths filled with flowers (best bath of my life!) or onsite massages, which were amazing although none of us were ever quite sure if the large, middle aged Montenegrin massuese was the same man as the one who picked us up from the airport, or the one who drove us to the beach, or if they were in fact three different people.

After almost a week of sneakily enjoying contraband coffee in my room, a few of us cracked on the final day when we left the sanctum of the villa for the beach and someone (naming no names) bought beer and chips – neither of which has ever tasted so good. It almost took away the sting of the €25 cost of using the sun loungers.

On the final night there was an emotional closing ceremony with quite a few tears shed as the group came together to sing and play instruments along to some haunting tunes around the fire. It’s a testament to our three instructors Guilia, David and Klaude that relative strangers felt comfortable sharing sometimes deeply personal experiences safe in the knowledge there would be no judgement. Asking us to end our sentence with “Aho!” which would be echoed by the group was challenging as I really struggled not to respond with “knowing me knowing you, Aha!” Alan Partridge style instead.

For me, I came here believing I needed time alone, when perhaps actually I needed to connect with like minded people. And despite some of the more ‘out there’ elements of the week (still not a fan of three minutes ‘eye gazing’) that was certainly achieved 🙏.

Great British Holiday Part Three – Mr Crowley, Johnny Cash and Britain’s Biggest Loser (Scotland)

August 5, 2021November 19, 2024Posted in ScotlandLeave a comment

I expected rain, midges and to be beaten up in Glasgow city centre. Instead I got sunshine, no insects in sight and incredibly friendly people who ask for my ‘wee name’. Plus some of the most stunning scenery I’ve seen on this island. I’ve even come around to the Scottish accent and have a new favourite singer, Gary Cinnamon, after hearing a few of his tunes performed by the Young Scottish Singer of the Year busking by Loch Lomond. Many a true word in lyrics like ‘it could be a canter, if you’re just a wee bit less of a wanker‘.

Arriving in Glasgow, in an effort to economise I booked into the Euro Hostel – at £25 a night it’s bunk bed style but I’ve got the room to myself and even an “ensuite”. It’s clean,the staff are welcoming and nobody tried to get into my room at midnight like they were about to do in Edinburgh…

I walked around for several hours trying not to look at anyone the wrong way given Glasgow’s reputation on a Friday night, but only saw a few fights in the street (mostly between women I would not want to get on the wrong side of). Another surprise was the abundance of amazing vegan food such as the extremely popular Glasvegan and in particular the Scottish breakfasts – I will be leaving a stone heavier.

I especially liked the traffic cone part of this statue

Despite liking the feel of Glasgow, one day in the city proved enough so I took the train to Balloch, gateway to Loch Lomond. I was actually a bit underwhelmed by the Loch and the touristy nature (Sea World anyone?!) of this area but am aware I didn’t venture past the visitors centre.

Budget mode in full swing, I took a surprisingly comfortable bus ride up to the start of the Highlands where the bus driver said I could sit anywhere as long as it wasn’t on anyone’s lap. Set on the banks of the River Ness, I knew immediately I would love Inverness.

On a recommendation from the waitress at the old movie themed Rendezvous cafe, playing Led Zeppelin and serving huge portions of toasted sandwiches and the best coffee so far, I dropped off my bag and went straight out to explore the ‘islands’. This is a beautiful woodland walk along the fast flowing river with several white bridges connecting the inlets. Some mansions were hiding behind the trees, one of which was apparently almost home to Johnny Depp.

I love a good day trip so booked onto a ‘Rabbies’ tour to Loch Ness. I cannot recommend this highly enough if you are travelling without a car, plus you get an entertaining guide for an educational experience. Our guide Paul was particularly interesting, especially when he casually asked me ‘what would you say if I told you I’m Britain’s second bigger weight loss star? I’m famous,you can Google me!’… I did – he didn’t mention that he actually hit the tabloids with the headline ’50 stone man fears he may crush wife during sex’.

The best thing I’ve learned so far on this trip has to be who Mr Crowley, star of my favourite Ozzy Osborne song, actually was. We drove past Alastair Crowley, black magic extraordinaire’s house, which was owned for several years by Jimmy Page and regularly frequented by Ozzy and the Black Sabbath guys. The link between the occult and heavy metal music is an interesting one as according to tour guide Paul, some spells require a visual representation to be performed, perfectly suited to a rock concert. Apparently if you come here at night you’ll find ‘all sorts’ in the graveyard.

The Highlands of Scotland are really stunning – the kind of scenery I was waiting for. I even managed to pose in the road for a photo reminiscent of Route 66 although the know-it-all on the tour with the fancy camera insisted on taking the picture at such a strange angle I prefer my own snap above. Turn on the sound for the full Scottish experience on the video below…

Loch Ness itself blew Loch Lomond out of the water for me. Unfortunately I didn’t have my bikini and this is no Budleigh Salterton so I had to make do with paddling my feet in the water, which was crystal clear on the banks but a mysterious black further in due to the composition of the rocks.

An added benefit of taking a tour is that Tabloid Paul booked us onto an otherwise sold out boat trip and got us there early enough to be first in line to pick the best seats. Tales of Nessie sightings fresh in our minds (Paul said anything he tells us falls into two categories, either a) he truly believes it or b) he truly believes that other people truly believe it), it was a gorgeous cruise around the Loch.

Next stop on my Scottish tour had to be Edinburgh and a stay in a converted jail cell at the POD hostel. I enjoyed the concept of the number pad entry instead of a key until I was woken by some drunkards randomly trying to get in. Hostel life seems almost back to pre-covid levels other than hand sanitisers everywhere – what a novelty to sit in a communal kitchen!

Edinburgh is essentially a collection of extremely tall buildings, we’re talking 16 stories high. In the old days people would tip their toilet waste out of the top windows and pity the fools who didn’t hear the warning cry to move out of the way. Construction continued up around the bridges, resulting in a maze of cobbled stairways and turnings on Google maps that don’t actually exist unless you want to step off a 20 foot ledge. Cue half hour of very confused walking around in circles, wondering why the expected 5 minute journey from train station to hostel was not going anywhere.

A still unfulfilled item on my Scotland list was Castles so I booked a second Rabbie’s ‘Outlanders Adventure’ tour which is intended for fans of the Outlander TV show – a show that I admitted to never having heard of to cries of ‘sacrilege!’ from the back of the bus. No problem said the regular sized, kilt wearing and pretty good looking tour guide – ‘we are here to see castles although some of it might go over your head’.

Apparently this is important in Outlander

I soon made friends with my fellow passengers when the first stop required us to buy tickets on our phones. Given the average age of the group and their inability to even connect to wifi, I realised they had no chance of making a purchase so I indebted myself to the guide and bought tickets for everyone, making a quid in unreturned change.

I wasn’t expecting the Mediterranean style ancient villages in this part of Scotland. The highlight was chatting to Bob Beverage in Falkland, Fife, a local celebrity in his own right due to his friendship with the great Johnny Cash who had a connection with the tiny village and even played in the square. It looks like a simple violin shop but it’s crammed with antique items and if you ask nicely Bob will bring out the guitar signed by Cash’s daughter.

It was a lovely day with the icing on the cake being meeting Sheila, who appeared a young looking 60 something until she mentioned her 50 something year old son. Sheila and I were the only people to walk up every hill and we shared dinner and a bottle of wine after bonding over the annoyance of dining out solo and always being stuck in the ‘naughty corner’ by waiting staff holding out for bigger groups. It’s always inspiring to meet older women on their travels and proves friendship has no age limit.

As usual a couple of days sightseeing was too much for me but luckily Edinburgh has an extinct volcano in the form of Arthur’s Seat overlooking the city and an easy hour’s climb.

And that’s it for my UK Tour… it’s been an eye opening experience and a lesson in appreciating what’s on your doorstep on the world travelling scale! Scotland is firmly on the list of places to return to, especially to explore more of the Highlands and get out to the more remote islands. For now I have finally booked a one way ticket out of here – next stop Montenegro.

Great British Holiday Part Two – Carry On Campers (Wales)

July 31, 2021November 19, 2024Posted in WalesLeave a comment

Wandering around the dump that is Shrewsbury town centre after my train was cancelled, hungover and running on one hours sleep, lugging my bags and looking in vain for somewhere open to eat until the manager of Ask reluctantly gives me a table for four (this seems to be a theme of my travels, I would be a very unsuccessful restaurant critic) – it was not the best start to the second part of my UK Tour. In hindsight booking an early morning, 6.5 hour train journey from London straight after the first rock n roll party since Lockdown was never going to be fun. But the show must go on and there is no time to lose as I’m gate crashing the end of my good friends Anna, Adam and little Lucian’s camping getaway.

View from the train. Two-hour delay forgotten.

The eventual 9 hour journey was all worth it of course – it always is. The Cambrian Coast Railway goes west from Shrewsbury and hugs the coastline up to Gwynedd – when the train eventually turns up it transports me through the most beautiful green valleys and wild, empty beaches with tides so far out you could walk for miles on the sand. I wouldn’t have minded if it took another two hours.

I arrived in time for sunset on Talybont beach and as an added bonus, Anna and Adam are pro-campers and had everything set up for me. Soon there was pasta cooking on the stove and a cold beer in hand 🍻

The Spa was still open although what was left on the shelves was questionable

Amazingly I have reached this age without setting foot in Wales. I expected sheep and rain – we spent an idyllic day swimming in crystal clear lakes surrounded by heather covered mountains in the brilliant sunshine.

I climbed to the top of the above mountain/hill (choose description depending on your level of fitness!) in 15 minutes after Adam boasted he did it in half an hour carrying a baby. I had the whole thing to myself from the climb up to wandering around at the top, amazed by the views over even more lakes.

I soon realised camping is serious stuff, with some monster tents popping up around us. I don’t really understand the point of driving to a site and setting up what is practically a plastic house with all the mod cons, why not just sleep in a B&B in that case? I think I would prefer to wild camp in the middle of nowhere, I don’t even want to see a toilet block. However, this may be a litttle optimistic – later we were joined by new Travel Companion, Phil (another pro-camper and all round outdoorsy person) who took one look at me attempting to light the stove and asked ‘have you actually been camping before?’.

Ready made campsite, just bring sleeping bag

We moved on further inland to the even tinier village of Corris and some seriously upgraded accommodation in the form of a gorgeous cottage with a private stream perfect for morning coffee, near the town with a name I don’t dare to try to pronounce, Machynlleth.

With an entirely different but equally stunning backdrop, we visited the waterfalls near Ganllwyd. Obviously this meant climbing down to the base, yet another thing that ‘Adam did carrying a baby’ despite there not being an obvious path down. Challenge accepted – I couldn’t miss a chance to get in some more outdoor swimming (I may have had some help getting down but that’s beside the point).

This area is a great base for walking and cycling. Let’s go for a bike ride I said, momentarily forgetting that a) the hills in Wales are not the same as the flats of Norfolk and b) Phil cycles about 100 miles a day so our idea of a bike ride is very different. Subsequently he spends half the time waiting for me around the corner and I spend it trying to stay upright and not break the gears on the bike.

The scenery here is so beautiful it’s once again all worth it, especially when you end up at a great little rock pub Y Llew Coch playing 70s tunes in what seems like the middle of nowhere and the last place you’d expect to find it. A couple of pints and I’ve almost forgotten I have to cycle back.

Seven degrees of separation moment when there is a sign outside the door advertising that your mate’s band is playing here next month and the barman is from Shrewsbury, whose shopping centre still haunts me.

My introductory tour of mid Wales was topped off with a visit to the Centre for Alternative Technology (CAT), run by hippies (another theme of my travels) who promised that if I had any questions there would be a man called Dieter with a flag wandering around. I was more disappointed than I should have been not to have found him although I realise this is not the main reason to visit 🧐

I learned some rudimentary facts I should definitely have learned in school, like what a fossil fuel is and how a battery works (turns out you really shouldn’t throw them in the rubbish bin). Also, who knew you could power a train up a mountain by water? None of this was quite so enthralling for Phil who has a PhD in the subject.

Wales only encouraged my enthusiasm for UK trips, camping is now a definite option and a whole world of short breaks has opened up. Now time to go solo up to the last of the unknown frontiers, Scotland… via an overnight stop in my old friend Shrewsbury ofcourse! It turns out when the sun is shining and you don’t look like a homeless person carrying a sleeping bag (maybe this accounts for the previous stares?), it’s actually a very nice place indeed. I even managed to get food. 🙃

Great British Holiday Part One – Geriatric Naturists, Jellyfish and New Experiences (Devon)

July 30, 2021November 19, 2024Posted in England3 Comments

If Hawaii had the Middle Aged Americans, this quiet little town in Devon has the Grey Haired Brit Brigade, with a penchant for getting their kit off. I had never heard of Budleigh Salterton until I was forced into looking for a home based seaside break due to Covid restrictions, which has essentially grounded me for the past year. Hence I’m kicking off 3 months of freedom with a mini UK Tour…

Travel companion for the first week is Karo. We share a love of the great outdoors, long walks and recently discovered natural swimming with the aim of one day joining the elite group of hardcore old ladies who swim every day throughout winter in the Hampstead ponds. In fact it took Karo (a Polish native) to open my eyes to the fact it is possible to swim in the UK seas – we recently took a day trip to Whitstable where I couldn’t believe she had packed a swimsuit and was intending to actually go in.

Fast forwarding a few weeks and a 3.5 hour train journey from London, we arrived in this gorgeous little town, our cute two bed apartment sandwiched between a cake shop, a chip shop and opposite a pub – after trying all three we came to understand that everything is closed on a Monday and I mean everything. With no Uber and nothing to do but sit on the doorstep until our host provided the keycode, we realised this would be a slower pace of life than London.

The beach here was pretty quiet, with the alarmingly white, middle class population in fact proving very friendly and incredibly accommodating of us tourists who must be ruining their afternoon teas for a good few months a year. Tip – the beach is extremely stony so the £6.99 on water shoes will be the best money you ever spent and bonus is that you can feel smug watching the other visitors trying to get out of the water.

The coastal path runs in both directions along the Jurassic Coast with some stunning views. We walked the hour to Exmouth’s sandy beach but soon turned around when we met the hoards of families setting up camp for the day and it dawned on us that this was actually a Haven Holiday Park.

New Experience Number 1: My new love of cold(ish) water swimming means I decided to get up at 5am for a sunrise swim (not difficult when the seagulls wake you at 4am everyday with their terrifying screams) where I quite literally had the bay to myself. Arms are no longer going numb in the water although the temperature was apparently a warm 17 degrees so I have a way to go yet.

We seem to have spent half of our time here wandering around looking for somewhere to eat – the one and only fish and chip shop needs to be pre-booked online to secure your spot, which we only found out when everyone around us on the beach was enjoying their dinner and we couldn’t get any. Luckily the owner took pity on us and gave me a child sized portion of chips on the sly.

Don’t be fooled by the opening times, none of this is actually available

It felt like cafes and shops were disappearing and reappearing randomly at different times of day on the high street, with the elusive Slice of Lyme constantly changing it’s opening hours to taunt us with the healthy food we were now craving. The very friendly Feathers pub let us in on the second or third attempt where we had a meal and a beer although I soon realised this was not the kind of place where you ask what lagers are available or for your nachos to come without cheese.

New Experience Number Two: if you can’t beat ’em, join’em – down on the nudist beach. Just don’t go too far down the beach where these naughty old folks are getting up to a lot more than airing their white bits if the condom wrapper floating in the otherwise pristine ocean and the note given to us by a very old, wrinkly man named David is anything to go by! Disclaimer – drawing not true to form; either David is a very fast artist indeed or he had pre-prepared a stack of them to hand out with both his landline and mobile to be on the safe side. He had the nerve to return an hour later to declare ‘if you don’t want this I will take it back’, providing me with the opportunity to give him a piece of my mind about harassing women to which he ‘apologised profusely’ and backed off down the beach, speedos in hand. The nice couple next to us advised sticking to the more family friendly other end of the beach next time but applauded our bravery.

New Experience Number Three : the water is so clear and calm here that we decided to have a go at Stand Up Paddle Boarding (SUP). I didn’t expect to even be able to stand up but in fact it was surprisingly easy, the only tricky bit was staying upright when turning around and not panicking when the beautiful blue jellyfish floated by – there are actually A LOT of jellyfish in the waters, a fact which we tried to deny up to this point even though the locals were clearly wearing wetsuits for a reason. Apparently only a couple of varieties of jellies require actual medical attention, although as Karo pointed out if you happen to be on the naturist section of the beach at the time then they probably all do 😳

On our last day a storm was coming in and we spent a good few hours mesmorised by the tide as the waves built up. Having experienced the stronger current this morning, we could only watch in slow motion horror along with the rest of the beach goers as a woman looking to be well in her 70s with nerves of steel casually ventured in, only to be immediately knocked over face down onto the stones. We all held a collective breath before she emerged from the waves and went back down like a domino a few times before strolling back to her husband like she does this every day.

Eyes now open to the beauty of my own country and mind blown by the opportunity of swimming in UK seas, it was all too quickly time to pack up and move on – next stop Wales…