tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91816492897336809082024-03-14T10:06:39.063+00:00Home in Time for TeaWelcome along on my adventures with an easily sunburned husband and squidgy little girl.
As parents, we seek rich opportunities, as skiers; mountains, and as foodies; delicacies. (Also, colourful shops while Richard lurks outside sizing up restaurant menus)... Enjoy!Home in Time for Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04972244486237928622noreply@blogger.comBlogger9618tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9181649289733680908.post-57167170238209884402019-08-27T22:07:00.003+01:002019-08-27T22:12:40.677+01:00Summer Road Trip to Rustic French Occitanie, Colourful Barcelona and Much-Loved Mallorca <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Until now, I've avoided Spain on summer road trips because of mass tourism along the coast. It's not my cup of tea, yet I know not to write off a whole place just because it's popular, and <b>the beaches of Mallorca had caught my beady eye.</b> So this year we headed in new directions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our journey took us to some <b>rural parts of France</b>, satisfying my need to 'discover' something. En route we enjoyed <b>distinctive and vibrant Barcelona</b> and a heatwave, before setting off to Mallorca on the overnight ferry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Clermont Ferrand</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At the <b>volcanic park</b> 'Parc Naturel Regionale des Volcans d'Auvergne' we quickly found a gentle hilly trail, thanks to the helpful visitor centre lady's instructions, saving us wasting time (and data squabbling with Google maps).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">With our 3-year-old in tow, and 35 degree heat, we missed the most dramatic views, but our trail offered <b>wonderful panoramas. The whole place was remote, clean, and very green.</b> The little one coped well, even on loose lava rocks on the steepest parts, yet fell over three times on the flat path to the car? Behold, the power of tiredness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We popped into town for dinner, with no expectations, and were greeted with a <b>sweeping square, abundant restaurants, water fountains, and a great atmosphere.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The following day we wandered the narrow streets looking for nothing in particular. We enjoyed a stroll in the <b>colourful, well-kept gardens in the square </b>- a great place to sit with a book and a croissant (or for a little girl to splash around in, during a heatwave now soaring to 40 degrees).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Adissan & Pezenace</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Into Occitanie and Languedoc-Roussillon, the landscape turned Mediterranean. Hillsides became scrubby, tall cypress trees popped up around chateaus, and <b>rows and rows of green vines glowed in the golden sunlight</b>. It really is special.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'd booked a 'homestay' on Booking.com (a chambre d'hotes) in tiny village Adissan, run by the village Mayor. We sat in the colourful courtyard of the old building with our lovely host and enjoyed a nice cold lemonade, some Barcelona tips, and great practice with French (the Southern accent keeping us on our toes).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We were recommended a medieval town called Pezenace, for dinner. <b>We savoured our glasses of rosé and sizzling gratins of parmesan and seafood, in that crumbly, atmospheric little town.</b> The best bit might even have been Richard finally enjoying seafood, but I'm not smug or anything.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After a great breakfast of homemade yogurt, breads and jams, we said goodbye, headed to the park nearby for five minutes to bake to a crisp (we'd promised the little monster), and journeyed South into Spain.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Over the Spanish Border</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Tummies rumbling, we stopped in an unassuming town before the border. <b>Locals lazed on plastic chairs in front of shuttered cafes, and the deserted streets sizzled quietly. </b>We stumbled across a cafe with a large noisy table being served tapas. The little one was hungry enough to try something new, so<b> she tucked happily into my big prawns, unfazed by their necessary deconstruction.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Back on the motorway, planning a detour, I reached for my phone... <b>Oh God, my bag</b>. <i>Don't forget that, </i>I'd said to myself, purposefully hooking it on my seat in the restaurant. Now, 40 minutes over the Spanish border, <b>our car was thundering South, further from all manner of important things</b>. Sorry<i>! I'm an idiot! What a tool... You must be so fed up with me! </i>On and on I went, beating myself up in place of Richard saying what I assumed he must be feeling. That man is so patient with me. We turned around.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I clattered up the street. The restaurant's tables and chairs were stacked, and doors shut. <b><i>Damn siesta!</i> I knew it!</b> Richard's turn was more yielding however, and I looked up from the car to see my bag being waved about in the distance. <i>Merci beaucouuuup</i> I called to the restaurant owner, and were back on our way. Phew!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Barcelona</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our stop at 'Calella de Palafrugell' allowed a pleasant little walk for <b>coastline views, a walk through the white-washed village, an ice-cream, and a dip in the sea. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We arrived in Barcelona ready to check-in to a good old Ibis and head out to dinner. I was pleased to find a <b>restaurant so good that we ate there twice</b>; Can Nico, a street away from the Sagrada Familia and our hotel. What's better than <b>affordable authentic tapas and paella, at least some local diners, and welcoming staff?</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We were <b>on our feet for two days in Barcelona, punctuated by air-conditioned shops, tapas, and the beach.</b> A certain sticky little girl coped well in the heat, happily chattering about what she could see around the colourful city.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Barcelona means <b>Gaudi-related sights and I had my heart set on colourful Park Guell and spectacular Sagrada Familia</b> cathedral. Particularly as Klowski asked if we could go up the moment she clapped eyes on it. However, thanks to internet-only pre-bookings and a big problem with cruiseship overcrowding, we weren't able to do either. Also, the evening water-fountain light show 'Font Magica' was only running following our departure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Despite these hiccups, we enjoyed <b>views of the impressive Sagrada Familia from the play park opposite</b> (most pleasing to Klowski), and took in <b>views from the rooftops </b>of Gaudi's Casa Battlo, and Casa Guell (one of Gaudi's earliest works). There's some funky decor in there too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The <b>Barcelona aquarium kept a little person entertained, and the Gothic quarter kept a bigger person entertained</b>. The amount of shoe shops I came across was unreal, and the mini Camden in the old town's narrow streets, not far from Plaça Vila de Madrid, was a home from home!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I loved the <b>Boqueria food market</b>. Although packed with tourists, that seems to have become part of the fun. People from all over the world <b>bustled around trying exotic tastes and local specialties</b>; my tiny accomplice and I included.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Mallorca</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The overnight ferry was comfortable and a real novelty for Klowski.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'd stumbled across an all inclusive deal on booking.com at 'Club Hotel Tropicana' - Cala Domingo. I succumbed, hoping to periodically escape to reality. However, the whole area was purpose-built. <b>We were hemmed into a tourist farm for a couple of days so just enjoyed the indulgence.</b> To be fair, the food was great, the beach was amazing (and right there), and the building was not a high rise (I do get quite animated about that).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I wanted to find some remote beaches I'd spotted on Google maps, and we'd brought our <b>blow-up kayak</b> with us. But it was <b>far too choppy </b>to get around the coast so we stuck to the coves nearby which was still fun. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Back at the beach, Klowski enjoyed the sea after some fussiness about the waves. Internally I just don't have time for this, but I patiently distracted her with humour (who knew seaweed is such a funny concept?) and she was golden. <b>The water was so warm, we didn't get cold at all, even after getting out</b>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We were glad to see some of the island after some beach lounging. We took <b>a long (hot) walk to a remote beach with some stunning rugged coast,</b> and drove to <b>Alcudia, a popular but interesting medieval town.</b> The walk along the walls offered great views of the town and surrounding mountains.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Mallorca generally felt more like the beaten island than the beaten track, but it is well-trodden for a good reason. I was looking forward to driving back to to discover more of Occitanie, and was sad to leave such an easy place to relax.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Corbières</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Back over the French border, we stopped at another chambre d'hotes 'Domaine de St Jean' on a vineyard in the middle of nowhere, near tiny town Bizanet. I'd seen it recommended on a travel article online. The owner was a another friendly local lady with lots of warmth towards the little one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We sat around and <b>played in the idyllic garden area, </b>then decided to find something to do once the day was drawing to a close (typical us). Following a <b>quick wine tasting at nearby Abbey Fontfroide</b>, we set off to find some civilisation and hunt for dinner.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've never struggled for food in France (within the confines of mealtimes) but here we struggled, and we needed to find somewhere quickly as we'd booked a music and light show at Abbey Fontfroide. It was a good job we had the car. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We passed through villages we couldn't even describe as 'sleepy' and <b>eventually fairy lights and music appeared around a dusty corner in an otherwise deserted town.</b> We were excited and hopeful, but seconds later, turned away - <b>restaurant full.</b> A few miles later, we came to a tiny family-run cafe and received a warm welcome. The family dog sniffed around our plastic table as we enjoyed our <b>delicious French omelettes and burgers, and had to pay almost nothing for them.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The light show was an interesting way to see the Abbey. Little Klowski was very taken with the <b>precision projection and music,</b> and the general <b>atmosphere was exciting and mysterious</b>. It was also mysterious how we ended up taking half an hour to get back even though it was 5 minutes away. I'll blame Google maps, and the lateness of the hour.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sete</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Before moving on, we stopped at an <b>unusual rocks and minerals shop and zen gardens</b> near Bizanet that I'd seen from the car, 'Domaine de la Source'. It was the biggest place I'd ever seen devoted to rocks and minerals - the choice was overwhelming! Klowski enjoyed the swans on the little lake and I bought some coloured rocks for the garden, then we got out of there before more money fell out of my purse.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We moved up the coastline towards Montpellier, stopping at <b>working port town Sete with its unique canal system and salty lagoon known for seafood</b>. It is a pretty place in a 'real' kind of way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">First things first - lunch. I had a locally renowned <b>delicious seafood and tomato tart/pie 'tielle'.</b> Richard did his customary 'taste' of it before declaring his mild dislike of all seafood.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A boat trip on the canals taught us about the town and its history. It also allowed a little girl some <b>excitement when we all had to duck down for the low bridges</b>. We had a wander around the bustling town, poked in some lovely shops, then had a delicious dinner with a sleepy little girl. We set off, speeding reluctantly away from the Med.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Lyon</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We have always bypassed Lyon en route to the Alps, but this time, based on our French friends' advice, we stopped and it was entirely worth it. Lyon has a <b>seriously confident identity and cuisine.</b> I've never seen so many restaurants in one place! <b>We crossed the river to the old town capped with the Notre Dame on the hill.</b> The city can be seen from many angles from the various bridges and river banks, and history leaks readily out of the streets, churches and squares. Unfortunately some of the most well known fountains and squares were being dug-up, but we got the idea.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Langres & Reims</span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Usually by the time we're back in North-East France, I assume I won't see much that surprises me (it's lovely, but familiar). However, <b>lovely little Langres gave us some new views to take in.</b> It is a small town perched on a hill <b>overlooking the surrounding fields and forests, wrapped tightly by high fortifying walls</b> - which make a good little walk. We descended back down to the car park and I got the feeling the funicular lift was the highlight for little Klowski and her daddy, perhaps because it was the main topic of conversation for most of the journey to Reims.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Last year we'd seen a fantastic music and light projection show at the cathedral and I was pleased to see it was on again. It was at 10pm so we had time for the minor delay in eating due to the rudest waiter I've ever come across in France:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>We can't leave, it's rude! They're just busy, </i>I pleaded with Richard whilst we waited patiently. The waiter finally arrived, in such a flap he couldn't stand still. <b>I awkwardly stuttured my order, lest I inconvenience him further... </b><i>Du saumon??? </i>He barked, gesticulating at the menu as if I'd asked simply for 'food'. My English tolerance dissolved rapidly. I took one look at Richard and we stood up, said we were leaving, and marched away in disbelief. We happily found ourselves a lovely welcoming restaurant with great food.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Reims cathedral light show is completely free, so the fact it was so different this year, and just as good if not better, was unexpected. <b>The music and lights were incredible and dramatic, the perfect end to our trip.</b> (Not really the end though - I squeezed in some shopping the next day of course, before we headed for the ferry home). </span><br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Text and Images Copyright © 2013 Lise Griffiths</div>Home in Time for Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04972244486237928622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9181649289733680908.post-9369027990800450532019-05-24T20:52:00.000+01:002019-05-24T22:36:10.697+01:00Beaches, Gardens and Volcanic Mud in New Zealand's Lush, Green North Island<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 1.00em;">New Zealand's Northland</span><span style="font-size: 1em;"> </span><span style="font-size: 1em;">always feels like a second home. I've been lucky enough that my childhood has been fairly kiwi-heavy because of family, so I enjoy passing on what this has given me, to the littlest one. I know I'd be a slightly different person without a kiwi-influenced childhood. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">On this trip, we spent most of our time with various combinations of family members on <b>beaches, boats, in water, volcanic mud or beautiful gardens. </b>Some of our trip's highlights were possible because of family, although they are still relevant to those interested in things to do on New Zealand's North Island. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">Our visit was an Easter one, so <b>autumn colours peppered the otherwise green sub-tropical hilly landscape</b>. It felt strange to leave our UK spring and have little Klowski looking for chocolate eggs in autumnal gardens without daffodils, but <b>the autumn sunshine was still strong and the days warm</b>. An advantage over the cold wind blustering our homeland when we left. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">Whangerei </span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">Whangerei Falls are a spectacular little gem just outside the town centre. We walked the <b>paths through the surrounding bush to the base of the falls</b> and back up the other side. The walkways also link to others in the area, known as 'the loop.' The <b>fresh green smell of the ferns and trees</b> can only be described as <b>distinctly 'New Zealand'</b>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;">Whangarei <b>Quarry Gardens are a magical place bursting with colour </b>amongst the various layers and walkways. Our little monkey and her cousin adored <b>discovering strange and wonderful tropical plants and chasing each other through the trees</b> and the 'secret tunnel', screeching their delight in their highest-pitched little girl voices. </span><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: 1.00em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1:00em;">The waterfront and harbor at the 'town basin' served as good little place for pottering about in the sun or rain. The gift shops are tasteful and reasonably priced, lunch is yummy in the little cafes, and of course the <b>delicious New Zealand extra creamy ice cream.</b> The shaded play park is varied and the Klowski and her cousin played there very happily and rode their little bikes around.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">At the Whangerei Heads we enjoyed the beautiful gardens of my aunt's best friend, overlooking the mountains and the sea. Little blue butterflies darted between the giant hibiscuses and little Klowski enjoyed exploring the hilly sections of the </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 1.00em;">garden, discovering minibeasts and the <b>New Zealand birds chattering happily in the trees; pretty little fantails and noisy tuis. </b></span></span></div>
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</span> We stayed up at the Whangerei Heads in my cousin's caravan that evening and ate sizzling beef sausages on the fire. Klowski and her cousin enjoyed running around on the beach and <b>playing on the swings in the moonlight long into the evening.</b></span><br />
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</b></span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That morning we explored other beaches in the Whangerei Heads area on my cousin's little boat. The girls loved <b>collecting many pretty little iridescent sea-snail shells,</b> </span>making grand plans for their use in jewellery-making.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The following night we stayed on my other cousin's yacht which he lives on. What a novelty for all of us! From the dinghy ride to actually get to the boat, to </span><b>the beautiful aqua bay we were anchored in, backed by green bush-clad hills.</b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Klowski particularly enjoyed exploring the boat and catching some fish (and of course witnessing a little one 'accidentally falling' into my cup of tea).</span></span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next morning we set off with my cousin and his girlfriend on a <b>walk up one of the nearby hills for epic views of the surrounding bays</b> and Whangerei Heads mountains. </span></span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The walk was a perfect challenge for our three-year-old little monster; difficult enough to bring out her courage, but safe enough that some carrying was feasible. In places, <b>she clung onto my back like a baby monkey whilst I scrambled on all fours because it was so steep, </b>but the novelty kept her amused. </span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We stood at the top in awe of the </span><b style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">changing blues of the sea and different textures of grassy hills and bush-clad mountains.</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">Pahia and Russell</span></span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We wanted to take a boat trip around the bay of islands but a tiny person fell asleep just as we arrived in Pahia and we missed the last excursion. We ate a yummy lunch at Jimmy Jack's Rib Shack and got a water taxi to lovely little Russell, a <b>colonial-style town which was the first capital of New Zealand</b> and first European settlement.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The water was glassy and we took a <b>kayak out for a little bit of exploring along the bay</b>. We got Klowski in there easily (she was in first, grabbing the oars eagerly) but my Mum wasn't to be convinced so she grabbed a coffee and pottered around the gift shops in the sun.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">Coromandel</span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Saying goodbye to our family up in Northland was made easier by having the next few days to look forward to. We drove South towards Auckland and stopped at a little cafe for lunch. A lunch that <b>my dear foodie husband had been searching Central Europe for,</b> for the last decade, and <b>stumbled upon here, between the Pacific and Tasmanian oceans</b>. It was a square frankfurter in a roll, called Fleischkase, amongst a large unexplained array of other yummy German and Eastern European treats.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The evening drive through the Coromandel forest park was impressively unspoiled. <b>Just giant ferns, trees, mountains, and the occasional rainbow</b>, for miles and miles (and a tiny girl yelling with delight).</span></span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We arrived at Whitianga that night ready for an epic kayak around the coast from Hahei to Cathedral Cove, and epic it was. Not the kayaking but the search for a place to hire one. After eventually finding one, it turned out <b>they didn't rent mini life vests, so no mini people allowed. </b>We joined my mum on the walk to Cathedral Cove instead, and in fact <b>the views were so awesome that I was glad of the mishap.</b></span></span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Once down at that coveted beach, we took <b>a dip in the still fairly warm sea</b>, buried klowski's legs in the sand to make a mermaid tail, and enjoyed <b>the awe of the huge rock-cave 'cathedral' separating the two beaches.</b> It was stunning, and luckily not too busy despite the Easter holiday.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1em;">On the way South we stopped at <b>Hot Water Beach. </b>As we looked around for evidence of the geothermic hot water which apparently appears when digging, we saw no sign, despite the full car park.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-size: 1em;">In the distance we caught sight of <b>a throng of what looked like penguins huddled together. On closer inspection they were of course beach-goers</b>, packed together on this vast stretch of wonderful beach. They were <b>digging their heated spas into the sand</b> in this concentrated geothermic area and of course taking (too many) selfies. Without really having time to strip off, rent a spade, and dig, we stopped to enjoy the uniqueness of this place and carried on to Rotorua. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We stopped for the night in Rotorua and made our way the next morning to Waiotapu, one of the area's many colourful geothermal parks, with great <b>walkways amongst the steaming craters and bubbling mud and water</b>. Rotorua's signature eggy sulphur smell made the activity truly multi-sensory, and certainly features on the little one's list of memorable New Zealand experiences.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Following a length of time in the gift shop to challenge even the most tolerant of husbands, we <b>headed to Hell's Gate for a volcanic mud bath </b>I'd seen on our last visit.</span></span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Maori guy on the front desk was so friendly and welcoming, and the <b>whole place was just so uncommercialised</b>. We put our swim stuff on and headed over to the mud with a moaning Klowski who '<b>didn't want to get muddy'. </b>(What now? This from a toddler who is usually covered in some form of grease, stick or mud???)</span></span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Anyway, despite this nonsense, we loved the accessibility of it; <b>get in, slap the mud on, avoid the eyes.</b> (Also some other instructions that didn't make it onto my radar due to a heavy Chinese accent but that's besides the point).</span></span></div>
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</span> <div class="blogger-post-footer">Text and Images Copyright © 2013 Lise Griffiths</div>Home in Time for Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04972244486237928622noreply@blogger.com0Northland, New Zealand-35.5795461 173.76240529999995-38.8975466 168.59883129999994 -32.261545600000005 178.92597929999997tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9181649289733680908.post-68684425034072101682019-01-27T14:02:00.001+00:002019-04-11T23:39:30.432+01:00Winter Family Road Trip to Ski in the French Alps <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Driving down to the Alps from the UK is always an effort, but in the spirit of adventure it's exciting to 'discover' them. From the flat Northern Pas de Calais, to the soaring snowy peaks of Haute Savoie, we made our way South, passing through varied pretty towns along the way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It is reassuring that our three-year-old monster/angel had no need or want of technology during the entire trip (despite this, I do appreciate the temptation of others to use it!) We packed her 'busy pack' full of varied toys and books. A French skiing sticker book helped get her in the mood for the days to follow when she would have her first ski lessons!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Laon</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">North-Eastern France is so very familiar to us, but for some reason, tiny walled city Laon was new to us, and a pleasant surprise. The cathedral was lit up blue from inside and we enjoyed the evening hilltop views over the surrounding countryside before having dinner at a traditional brasserie.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our next stop was pretty little Dijon. The Christmas market was still on with a jolly atmosphere despite the cloudy evening gloom.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We took the little one on the ferris wheel, peered into some shops (including my favourite French high-street jewellery shop 'Six') and ate another yummy meal.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Journey to the Alps</span></h4>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">With little intention of lingering in high profile places due to France's current uprisings, we passed Lyon. Slowly the hills appeared and quite suddenly around a bend, appeared a snowy alpine range in the distance; we were almost at Chambéry. "Snow!" I pointed out to Klowski and she quickly looked up, interested to see, but unable to make out what I was pointing at. She woke up half an hour later in a dark tunnel and on the other side we were in the mountains. Klowski shouted happily about the view.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Chambéry was as beautiful as ever, with its Gothic 15th century castle and winding narrow streets of artisan shops and cafes. We stopped for a Savoyard salad with charcuterie meats, pickles and mountain cheeses. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After some walking around, we continued to our next stopover in Oulx, just over the border in Italy. Up in the mountains and away from the main motorways, we used booking.com to find some one-off rooms and B&Bs rather than the standard Ibis. It's during these stays that my French really gets its road-test, especially here as the Italian owner had good French (and my Italian gets me about as far as ordering an ice cream - on a good day).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For dinner in Oulx we came across the most authentic non-touristy little apres-ski bar (Bonneville Cafe). It was bustling with locals and funky ski and mountain-related murals all over the walls. We enjoyed simple 'pronto' Italian food and red wine, before heading off for a good snooze ready for some skiing the next day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ski Lessons for a Little Person</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 1.00em;">On our journey to skiing destination Risoul, we enjoyed a stop in Briancon nestled in the snowy mountains. I hunted local trinkets in the wonderful array of </span><span style="font-size: 1.00em;">artisan shops, and we moved on to fit in some afternoon skiing at Risoul. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">Once on the snow, I felt the anticipation I had built up over the past year. My precious little girl was finally getting those skis on and sliding about for the first time. I had been dreading this going horribly wrong with significant whingeing, slipping, sweating and freezing under layers of cumbersome clothes and clobber. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">I kept my approach buoyant and playful, and miraculously she let the experience wash over her and just dived right in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">In between bouts of energy and determination, little Klowski muttered small protests whilst we shuffled towards the ski lift for the free beginners' area. Once we were were up, she stood on her skis and stayed still whilst I held her in between mine, and we skied gently down. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">Later on she also did really well sliding alongside me holding the ski pole that I held out for her horizontally. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This success was to be a gentle introduction to her little 'under 5s' ski lessons which Richard and I had prepared her for, in the weeks leading up to the holiday. She was excited and happy knowing that we would be nearby and able to see her. Thank goodness also for the yellow chick mascot 'piou piou' up at the beginner's area - one big motivator for her to accept being swaddled up in layers again the next day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Watching that little girl successfully experience such newness - new sport new children, and a foreign language and country, made me swell with pride. I knew she understood enough French, and the instructors spoke English, adding to my comfort. I found myself even more grateful than usual for the warm French attitude towards children. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ice and Adrenaline </span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">During the lessons, Richard and I were able to get in s<span style="font-size: 1.00em;">ome of our own skiing nearby, and come back to check on little Klowski. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 1.00em;"><span style="font-size: 1em;">Up high, away from civilisation, the vast, steep and icy piste feels worlds apart from the apres-ski cafes in the snow below; a</span><span style="font-size: 1em;"> contrast I find thrilling, but slightly overwhelming with my little cub all the way down there. After</span> the silent, icy cold of the summits it was comforting to hear the beats of the music from the base as we made our way down</span><span style="font-size: 1.00em;">. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 1.00em;">The icy conditions certainly helped us pick up new skills, after which we rewarded ourselves with the slap-up traditional Raclette for two (and a little girl with a delicious fluffy omelette). </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">New Year</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For New Year, we are accustomed to Savoy and France - enough not to expect Edinburgh-style Hogmanay celebrations. However we were hoping to eat an immense multiple-course meal, and make it to Risoul ski resort for midnight to join in the music and festivities. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The restaurant I thought I had booked actually was full and it turned out they had said 'call us to confirm it' - not 'call us if you need to change it.' Oooops. We found a similar restaurant but with a far less appetising menu (at least for Richard; he is not a fish fan, and raw fish was the first thing on our plates). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After a meal that at least I enjoyed, we headed back to the chalet and Little Klowski was exhausted from all her skiing. Not staying up was a small price to pay for such great successes skiing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To make up for not getting the 'apres ski' New Year we wanted, we headed up to Risoul the following evening and found the most idyllic buzzing chalet restaurant, aptly named 'Le Chalet', and of course, I had Tartiflette (insert lip-smacking emoji). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Heading North, Reluctant to Leave the Alps...</span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">Saying goodbye to Risoul and heading back up North, we stopped in gritty Grenoble, put a tiny little girl (and mummy) on a carousel, and enjoyed the mountain views. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 1.00em;">On the way to Les Arcs, we stopped for lunch up high in the mountain pass at Col de </span><span style="font-size: 1.00em;">Laurant. We shared a great Bolognese and omelette with the snowiest views (and ignored some low-level whinging and vegetable-refusing from a little person nearby who shan't be named).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That night we stayed at a 15th century B&B 'A La Bouges Hotes' just down from <span style="font-size: 1.00em;">Les Arcs. It was beautiful, with stunning panoramic views to match. The owner Cristal was so friendly and we felt very at home chatting to her at breakfast. Homemade brioche, a new cuddly toy, and lots of French practice later, we headed off to Arc 1850 for the spa at 'deep nature.' </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">This spa is one of the only ones I could find that accepts children (mornings) and we are glad we paid for the privilege. The spa had nice moderate temperatures, was pristinely clean, and had very friendly staff. Klowski loved the jacuzzi and the lazy river, and I loved the cave-like interior with mountain views outside the large windows. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After the spa we popped into Bourg St Maurice for some lunch, and to hunt down some locally written and illustrated traditional Savoyard children's books that Cristal had<span style="font-size: 1.00em;"> recommended, in a really specific little shop (which I actually found!) </span></span><span style="font-size: 1.00em;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 1.00em;">Our next stop was another most beautiful B&B at Passy. The sun was setting for the last few minutes of the journey and the closer we got, the pinker the snow on the mountains became. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1em;">I was desperate to arrive before this disappeared and was greeted with uninterrupted pink Mont Blanc views just as we parked up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1em;">The lovely friendly hosts greeted us and helped us in with our bags. My attention wavered precariously between the unbelievable views, the extremely stylish decor of our room, and the plentiful opportunities for conversing in French. I am pleased to say I took advantage of each of these, starting with capturing a pink mountain sunset photo (I could hardly ask it to wait could I?)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Text and Images Copyright © 2013 Lise Griffiths</div>Home in Time for Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04972244486237928622noreply@blogger.com0Haute-Savoie, France46.1756788 6.538962099999935245.4703148 5.248068599999935 46.8810428 7.8298555999999353tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9181649289733680908.post-485957087879704282018-09-11T22:46:00.000+01:002018-09-11T23:06:31.970+01:00Summer Family Road Trip Through France: From Cambridge to Corsica <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As usual, we planned this summer's road trip holiday around a naturally beautiful, beachy destination; this time, Corsica. Beaches, mountain walks, and eating local food were the main items on the agenda. It worked out cheaper to take our Corsica ferries to and from different cities, so we got a nice varied road trip with a totally different route home.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Klowski and I started with a pleasant little day in Cambridge whilst Richard finished work, then we left from there for Dover. This set the tone for the rest of the trip, not least Klowski's thoughts about where we were at various points ('Cambridge' for at least 80% of the time apparently).</span></span><br />
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Rouen & Le Mans</span></h3>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the way to Le Mans, we stopped in Rouen to eat quiche on the steps outside the magnificent cathedral, and I bored Richard with some high street jewellery shops.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Although cars are more Richard's thing than mine, at Le Mans racing museum I was impressed with the sheer amount of historic cars and vehicles displayed, including an early 1900s fire engine. Another highlight was Klowski running from car to car with random excited outbursts: 'let's see the next one daddy! Look! Blue! Green! Big wheels!'</span><br />
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Bordeaux</span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This next stop was no exception to the heatwave sweeping most of France. It was around 38-40 degrees for the two days of our stop. We kept to our plans but moved a lot slower!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had previously put my French-learning efforts to searching (en francais) for a wine-tasting lunch in Bordeaux, hoping to find something off the tourist trail (at least for us Brits). The chateau lunch I'd booked was at Blaye - 45 minutes North of Bordeaux again, argh! But the whole experience at Chateau Marquis de Vauban was worth it. We ate our 3 courses al fresco and tasted 4 wines along with each course and cheese, accompanied with explanations by the staff. We even made some new friends and got a special mention at the end for being the only Brits and listening in French. (English visits are possible but stubborn as always; I insist on learning the hard way).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Before leaving Bordeaux I came across the Miroir d'eau on my pointless morning internet searches from bed. I couldn't believe we'd nearly missed seeing the biggest reflecting pool in the world! After enjoying the Ibis breakfast buffet we headed over the ornate Pont de Pierre bridge, straight for Place de la Bourse. It was huge, so unusual, and a lot of fun for the little one; despite a fall when she was running with daddy, including some free tears, and a bonus sore shoulder. </span><br />
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Perpignan </span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We stopped at a pretty and unassuming little town called Agen for a another quiche and a baguette in the sun. I saw two patterned scarves in Gallerie Lafayette that I didn't need, so I bought them and we got back on the road.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Perpignan instantly hit me as a colourful, well-kept and buzzing city with real character. The Catalan accent, language, food and buildings contrasted with the ones we had left behind in Bordeaux. I loved the impressive 13th century Mallorcan palace of kings, and the beautifully colourful and flowery canal, on which we rented a little electric water boat before lunch.</span><br />
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Marseille</span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The storm clouds were setting in. Despite this, over the next couple of days we enjoyed some good indoor shopping and eating at the newly regenerated docks area of Marseille, and a mooch around the historic Vieux Port harbour. Klowski enjoyed the boats, then we spent a considerable amount of time choosing some soapy Marseille gifts in a little boutique while the rain passed.</span><br />
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Corsica </span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My favourite bit about taking the night ferry from Marseille to Corsica was the pesto vegetarian lasagne I had for dinner. Unfortunately it went downhill from there. Our cabin was lovely and comfortable until we actually set off and the engines rattled the ceiling all night. Waking up feeling like we had just gone to bed after a heavy night, our spirits were lifted slightly when the little one woke in a favourable mood. At least one of us was fresh and well-rested.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In Corsica, when we weren't in restaurants, I lived in my swimming costume for our four days there. The shallow crystal waters of the beaches to the West of Ajaccio were perfect for our little cub, and the rock-pool 'vasques' in the mountains near Bavella provided a break from the heat. After a swim and a climb up to the higher reaches of these falls - where we had the place to ourselves - Klowski begged me to take her on the natural waterslides shooting down through the streams at the busier part below. There were lots of children giving it a go so I gave in and took the plunge (Richard had barely put his ankles in, so it was no use asking him). She had the best time, and so did I, despite a wet bottom half after previously having dried nicely in the sun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ajaccio is a bustling little city with a great market in the main square selling an abundance of tempting local produce, which we had for lunch one day on a bench in the square, in the shade of a palm. The traditional local charcuterie is not to be missed, and other Mediterranean delights such as olives and tapenade. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We stayed at the stylish, clean and friendly Hotel Napoleon in the city centre and <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">enjoyed the 20 minute evening 'promenade' to and from the restaurants along beach each night</span>. The hotel was also a great choice particularly due to mine and Richard's breakfast enthusiasm (12 euros each but the choice and freshness was totally worth it).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Pisa & Varenna on Lake Como</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our ferry back from Bastia in Corsica was to Livorno in Italy. We<i> promised</i> the little one we would take her to see the leaning tower of Pisa, and we were so late for our next hotel booking. After considerable faffing, we realised we weren't going to just land in the right place, so we Google-mapped it, dumped the car, and carried on on-foot, carrying the little monkey in the evening heat. We had ten minutes spare so quite literally we had a gawp, took some photos, and got back in the car to carry on the journey, but she did love it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our stop for the night was lovely hotel 'La Trigola' up in the hills of Liguria (another hotel choice based on dinner and breakfast reviews). Our very late arrival made for some severely rumbly tummies. With a missing phone charger, much kerfuffle, and lots of bickering, we made our way to the restaurant which was - by the grace of God - still open. Ordering food and waiting for it was fraught with tension. Klowski demanded various toys and whinged her way through complaints for every letter of the alphabet, and Richard and I were tired and irritable. The food-wait continued... Some salty olive-oil soaked crispy bread arrived at our table unexpectedly, and relations improved slightly. Then our food arrived and my meat grill was the crispiest, most tender and juicy meal, all at once. All was forgiven. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJxm1BwzuIQyyRdKT1cMT7_7HI30wxbrd1c9CoV3KX2UUowb9siAofumRRzICaUIXLg_gkqtr9oPgAFx_3yQeMda2mEv2AVGHSVQcXI3vnvXIUBpfrYgDpDOPdt5PsfniLt-ZZWKNXSHM/s1600/20180815_191856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Halfway to Milan on the Sunday, we realised it was the</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> 'Assumption of Mary', so my planned stop at favourite jewellery shop <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 16px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><i>Michal Negrin </i></span>was foiled. However, carrying on towards Switzerland, our next stop more than made up for the disappointment.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> The old town of Varenna clung to the steep hills and reflected majestically in the lake. It was busy, but uncommercialized. We hunted around for a pizza restaurant with a view and stopped for an ice-cream and a mooch by the lake, then poked around the tasteful gift shops selling handmade and local goods. We enjoyed the peace of the botanical gardens at Villa Monastero hotel before continuing our journey.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Valganna & Lavertezza: Italian & Swiss Alps</span></h3>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">With empty tummies again, we arrived at our sweet little B&B 'Ca Pelitti' in Valganna; a small village in the mountains just before the Swiss border. The Assumption of Mary meant most restaurants were closed, and the few open ones were rammed. The alternative soon made itself apparent; as the kind owner showed us to our room, loud and happy music wafted up from the valley below. He told us there would be 'food and dancing, and whatever you want' at the village festival, so we didn't hesitate. It was difficult to choose our favourite bits of that night, but Klowski eating calamari and barely keeping her feet still for a split second on the dancefloor were up there, as was the simple but insanely tasty and cheap seafood, risotto and sausage. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next morning we headed to Lavertezzo in Ticino (Italian Switzerland). I found this beautiful place by Googling Ticino but I was not prepared for how perfect it was! Just seeing the traditional Swiss stone houses and the intensely teal-blue water, I was desperate to get out of the car and met the full car park situation with an entourage of whingeing (yes me, not our little cub). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Once out of the car, we took our yummy picnic down to the crystal waters and warm rocks of the Verzasca river. (traditional Swiss sausage, and a cheesy pickle and sausage salad disturbingly called 'worst kase'). It was busy on the river but there was plenty of space for everyone and despite the occasional embarrassing Instagram poser (seriously what is the <i>point</i>), we were largely undisturbed. The hardcore Swiss attitude could clearly be seen; the young men jumping from the stone bridge into the blue depths below was a sight to see, and met with cheers and clapping from the surrounding sun-baskers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Crossing the Swiss border briefly into Germany I couldn't help but feel sad speeding away from the alps. The trip wasn't over yet though, and in addition to the best Chinese restaurant in the world that night, I had found a great 13th century castle ruin (Rotteln) to see the next day (after a yummy buffet breakfast again of course). The views from the top tower were just stunning and the castle felt way off the main tourist trail. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For the last few days of the trip we stopped at beautiful Strasbourg for lunch and a spot of shopping, then Metz for a delicious pizza and a bed for the night, and Namur (more shopping and food). It seemed months ago that we had set off for Bordeaux and I knew from that feeling that we had seen and done a great amount in 16 days. Begrudgingly, I was ready to get home and prepared myself for a bump back to reality, including a distinct lack of breakfast item choices. Although my Mum had kindly put milk in the fridge, which was a start. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Text and Images Copyright © 2013 Lise Griffiths</div>Home in Time for Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04972244486237928622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9181649289733680908.post-1460334624251409272018-06-10T23:11:00.001+01:002018-06-12T23:27:37.564+01:00Eating and Sightseeing in Paris with a Toddler in Tow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Going to Paris with a little girl who is not yet even 3 sounds like hassle, but having ditched the pram, our lives were far easier especially on the metro. Also the butterfly lunchbox (empty but adored) that she carried with her the entire time, meant she was occupied and had fewer sticky hands available for uninvited touching in shops, which is not well-received in France generally. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We stayed in an Ibis, which are usually good value, in Northern Paris, and had driven from the UK, so we parked the car at the hotel, using our 3-day metro passes to get about. We started off in Montmartre and made our way up to the magnificent Sacre Coeur standing high over Montmartre. Its grassy South-facing slopes are a great place for a picnic in the sun. After stopping for some photos, little Klowski loved the big steps down to the streets below, then we enjoyed some unique little gift shops before heading into Paris city centre for lunch. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I could remember from before that the plush department store 'Printemps' had a sweet little café called Delicieux (translates as 'Delicious' as well as 'Deli-skies' - clever, no?) at the top floor with great views and modest prices. We arrived at the top to find it had transformed into a rather more sophisticated and high-profile restaurant, with prices and popularity to match. However, it was worth the wait. The panoramic views include the Eiffel tower (our little girl's favourite) and it was an absolutely beautifully cloudless sky. The kind of hot day that a moment indoors feels like a complete mugging. It was busy and the service wasn't perfect, but the food was great. It was just a shame to see it more commercialised than before. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Later in the afternoon it was time to scour the streets of the Eiffel tower district for a shop that doesn't actually exist, to find a purse I wanted. Ah well, I enjoyed the Beaugrenelle shopping centre anyway, particularly bullying Richard into buying some new clothes in Monoprix and browsing (buying) the endless choices of fragrances and facemasks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was time to get back outside and look for a yummy place for dinner. We found ourselves in an Arabic neighbourhood - at least 5 Iranian restaurants in one street. Richard seemed set on French food, but I pointed out that in the UK you might choose a country pub for a traditional roast beef rather than Southall. Richard agreed to enjoy the diversity Paris has to offer. After some delicious buttery saffron rice and spiced chicken and lamb kebabs, we were glad we did. Restaurant Cheminee was the friendliest, most tasty and authentic little place I could have imagined. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The next day was just as beautiful. Naturally we had to take in some 'Mr Bean' sights while in Paris. What exactly are those, I hear you wonder. The film? The one where Mr Bean wins a holiday to Cannes in the South of France and gets lost in Paris? Well, it's Richard's favourite, and Klowski is also a fan, so we set off for a peek at the 5 star restaurant at Gare de Lyon where Mr Bean eats langoustines with the shells on, (our little one's favourite scene) and then headed to <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">La Defense to see the Grande Arche. Klowski loved this huge square structure - the many steps and wide open spaces serving as a playground for climbing and running, and learning about shapes of course. I don't know how many times I had to hear 'I am... a shape!' (a catchphrase from Cbeebies's 'Mr Maker')... The next stop was also shape-related; La Louvre and its famous glass pyramids. Saving the museum for cloudier, rainier visits, we looked around the courtyard (sang 'I am a shape' again) and made our way to a café bar for a drink and Klowski nap. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4dr1icx5lQHVw0TnwU1nCkPbww4prEB7YLA0TePGeRjBDSn4Eu8qIgKyjXh1YBRnnVQZxxZLbWFOBOC3rrZQLn7z3akdiMbzL2iGewjdbGQzWUzMqxO_S-PvAZG2N2LtTfBTwSq3K2oo/s1600/20180505_123622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 16px; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 0px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4dr1icx5lQHVw0TnwU1nCkPbww4prEB7YLA0TePGeRjBDSn4Eu8qIgKyjXh1YBRnnVQZxxZLbWFOBOC3rrZQLn7z3akdiMbzL2iGewjdbGQzWUzMqxO_S-PvAZG2N2LtTfBTwSq3K2oo/s1600/20180505_123622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 16px; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 0px;"></a><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 700; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></b><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></i><u style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></u><sub style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.06px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></sub><sup style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11.06px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></sup><strike style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: line-through; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></strike></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We expected the rowdy local guys next to us to show little concern for our presence, and when one of them stumbled over to us I was pleasantly surprised to be having a conversation about parenthood and seeing photos of his little boy on his phone! Then I remembered I was on the continent, where this kind of warmth about children is far more common from men and women alike - a part of the culture that I adore. The nap continued into the afternoon so I got comfy and ordered a Caesar salad, then we eventually headed off for an evening boat trip on the river Seine. This was especially lovely because it seemed the whole of Paris was out on the river banks enjoying wine in the sun, which also meant lots of waving opportunities for someone tiny whilst Richard and I listened to some (admittedly not all) facts about the various landmarks.</span></span></div>
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer">Text and Images Copyright © 2013 Lise Griffiths</div>Home in Time for Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04972244486237928622noreply@blogger.com0Paris, France48.856614 2.352221900000017748.6894645 2.0294984000000178 49.0237635 2.6749454000000177tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9181649289733680908.post-79638043927630315972018-04-14T17:27:00.001+01:002018-04-14T20:45:29.239+01:00Caribbean Creole Paradise in Martinique <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's not for nothing that this lush, tropical island is called the<b> isle of flowers</b> - it's positively teeming with colour. It's not surprising that the Parisian running the local art gallery described his former home city to me as 'too grey.' Anything would seem diluted in comparison to <b>Martinique</b>...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This was a trip mainly for <b>indulging and relaxing</b>. But (of course), most definitely not in a commercial all-you-can-eat style. We stayed in </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sainte Luce<b> fishing village</b> - on the South coast, at the Brise Marine serviced apartments<b> right on the beach</b>. Hummingbirds darted between hibiscuses, green lizards basked in the sun, and the <b>waves lapped the shore metres from us</b>. I also chose Brise Marine for other reasons; Richard has to be kept happy with a big French breakfast, and this was not a compromise here. Every morning a <b>big tray of fresh Croissants, pineapple and more</b>, arrived at our door. We shared breakfast in the bigger bungalow my Mum and Aunty were staying in. It was simply priceless to roll out of bed, walk through the garden, and sit on the veranda by the beach, eating pains-au-chocolats! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My favourite things about this beautiful island in particular are:<b> hummingbirds and flowers, food and spices, </b>and of course,<b> the beach. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The<b> gardens of Balata</b> were a stunning place to visit. Popular but spacious, the artistic and immaculate displays can be enjoyed from all sorts of perspectives, including a <b>treetop walk which I was gutted to miss!</b> (We forgot about it, and would have needed to take turns as the little monkey wasn't allowed to go up. Children over 8 are allowed only). I was cautious to stick to the paths here and keep my hand clasped around the sweaty little paw of a certain little girl, as there are <b>poisonous snakes</b> in Martinique. Unlikely to cause a problem, but still... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In the fishing village of Sainte Luce, locals go about their daily lives in the sunshine, with <b>occasional but sudden random tropical downpours</b> providing a welcome break from the heat. The restaurants are mainly informal <b>beach-side grills</b> with similar menus, mainly consisting of local fish and seafood. E.g. swordfish, crab, red snapper, and conch/lambi. Grilled and curried chicken and pork, and steak also find themselves onto most menus and <b>everything is cooked beautifully in traditional creole spices on the barbecue</b>. My favourite (it was hard to choose) is the red snapper, especially when one evening I was warned<b> 'it is big tonight!'</b> and ate the lot. I also loved the crab fritters which I tried on the last day. What was I missing. Why didn't I order them sooner! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There are a<b> whole load of beach choices</b> in Martinique, like anywhere in the Caribbean. The beaches along our part of the coast had very soft white/golden sand and were reasonably shallow, with <b>beautiful clear aqua waters</b>. I loved the local low-key vibe on the beaches by our hotel, and the handful of relaxed bars and cafes available for <b>'ti-punch' and fishy/meaty snacks</b>. There was a beachside path just outside our hotel that people use for jogging in the early morning, and some exercise equipment dotted around. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Les Salines is also a beautiful beach to visit and swim in, just further south of Sainte Anne. It is a <b>wide arc of golden sand backed by palm trees</b>, and local vendors sell traditional spices, clothes, and souvenirs behind the trees in the shade (none of which seemed plastic or tacky and are all handmade locally). There is also a <b>walkway through the mangroves </b>behind the beach. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Martinique, like many Caribbean islands, has a <b>rich slave trade history</b>. The sculpture at Diamant (pictured) is an interesting and historic monument to commemorate the slaves who died on a slave ship, which sunk in the<b> beautiful panoramic bay</b> it overlooks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We learned a great deal about the slavery, at the 'Savane des Esclaves' in Trois Ilets. Interesting displays show <b>detailed timelines and events</b>, and reconstructions of early dwellings after liberation are set amongst the <b>colourful grounds</b>. It was here that our little treasure decided to wake from her nap in one of the worst moods ever, and <b>screamed her way around the place</b>, wailing for 'juice' and refusing to drink water. It was very hot, and Richard kindly took her off so my Mum, Aunty and I could take in this fascinating place in peace. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The <b>wonderful gift shop</b> (with a chicken asleep in a box amongst other things) was a good distraction for little Klowski. Despite her behaviour I couldn't resist buying some pretty handmade hairclips for her, made of the <b>colourful local 'madras' fabric</b>. On the journey back to the hotel, it took her 3 minutes to break one. She really is such a good girl, but there are rare and specific occasions when she becomes an utter, utter monster.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Practical information:</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Martinique is an overseas French territory and unlike many British ones, it is truly part of France. French laws apply, and the currency is the Euro. This makes the island very wealthy and developed. Although speaking a little French is an advantage at times as not everyone speaks English, there is usually someone around who does. Very few Brits come to Martinique, and few Americans. Especially away from the port town of Fort-de-France, where the cruise ships dock. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As well as Creole, the culture in Martinique is very French, and this can affect meal times, which are rather specific like the mainland. For mid-morning snacks, bakeries were a good option. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">Our flight to Martinique involved changing flights - and airports - in Paris. This was made easier with a free coach trip provided by Air France. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We hired a car through our hotel<b> Brise Marine</b>. The owner had his own fleet of hire cars which made it easy, as we didn't feel we needed a car from the start to end of our holiday, only for a few days in the middle. We mainly used it to get to the gardens of Balata, and to the main town, Fort-de-France. The owner also kindly gave us a lift back to airport when it was time to go home. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i><u><sub><sup><strike><br /></strike></sup></sub></u></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There are some creatures to be wary of, although I never saw any. The poisonous snakes are only really a potential hazard if you stray from marked paths, go into the vegetation, and go crashing around in the sugarcane fields - which I am happy to say was not on my agenda. I felt perfectly safe in Martinique, and that's including having a toddler with me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><div class="blogger-post-footer">Text and Images Copyright © 2013 Lise Griffiths</div>Home in Time for Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04972244486237928622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9181649289733680908.post-27577218996843145902017-09-11T20:43:00.001+01:002017-09-11T21:11:54.295+01:00The Outdoors & Fine Dining in Historic English Town Stamford<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstnp9ZoUxHxG1VK8aLrb6Dr6pvz4XNW0SFnSveGN5_vZfRoG1nZYhbjIY2ie0wya3iRcuTXdMPu4GDCUpXjLSbydPPCyESZLU0UydEGa_q5Kmdz7ZBzxa9MBArB94hMeufql4RNEOrjw/s1600/Stamford.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="596" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstnp9ZoUxHxG1VK8aLrb6Dr6pvz4XNW0SFnSveGN5_vZfRoG1nZYhbjIY2ie0wya3iRcuTXdMPu4GDCUpXjLSbydPPCyESZLU0UydEGa_q5Kmdz7ZBzxa9MBArB94hMeufql4RNEOrjw/s320/Stamford.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What better way to experience quaint English charm, than in the ancient stone market town of Stamford, in Lincolnshire, just 80 miles North of London. Stamford's reputation as a fine and fascinating town to visit is certainly added to by its Elizabethan Burghley House and Gardens, and the infamous George Hotel. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My various experiences of these exciting and beautiful places all lead back to the same themes: quality, and class. The classic gardens with their unique features, and the relaxed yet refined atmosphere of the Garden Room Restaurant at The George Hotel are simply why I always come back for more - bringing friends, family, and even a school trip, to share in Stamford's delights. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Burghley Sculpture Gardens and the Gardens of Surprise</span></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOa1m-AQaDUFkb6b-aLmkd1BwpHaeS0AGUc06Ngb5NrpS2e2Sf1sg4tVq-mI79WBvn1p0NhRfArOK-R1VXDSdB1YBwOgromra_CiEEyHUEs7n0pICFVj1ZN53PYx4O4TZYRBwwv9KF05c/s1600/george3.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="518" data-original-width="597" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOa1m-AQaDUFkb6b-aLmkd1BwpHaeS0AGUc06Ngb5NrpS2e2Sf1sg4tVq-mI79WBvn1p0NhRfArOK-R1VXDSdB1YBwOgromra_CiEEyHUEs7n0pICFVj1ZN53PYx4O4TZYRBwwv9KF05c/s320/george3.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Walking around the spacious and varied sculpture gardens is a delight no matter what the weather; this summer I particularly enjoyed taking my two-year-old daughter for picnics in the sun by the lake, and picnics in the rain under the trees - each equally delightful! The various twists and turns of the park lead to new and undiscovered little places each time, hills, water, and trees, with new sculptures popping up, or ones that I had missed before. They somehow add to the natural landscape of the gardens and blend so well with the colours of the trees, always looking different depending on the time of year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The gardens of surprise are made all the more exciting and interactive with surprise water fountains, jets, and features amongst the plants and trees, along with other features - intriguing for adults and children alike. My favourites are the mirror maze and the life size game of 'Merrells' - an ancient game using a checkerboard and pawn-like pieces, although my two-year old daughter remained solidly focused upon the various water jets, as did the age 12-14 school trip I took this spring, who never ceased to be amazed and engaged on this fabulous outdoor excursion. A particular achievement given their usual self-confinement to the indoors on their various computer games and consoles! I knew, if there was somewhere that would break this cycle, it would be Burghley Gardens! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The best part about the fantastic Burgley Gardens is that is combines fun, interaction, and class, in a rarely found mix. The gardens are so unbelievably well-kept, clean and maintained. I simply can't stop taking photos each time I go, and that's without a visit to the stunning Elizabethan Burghley House. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The George Hotel</span></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2-Hd07CirVWtWgq0x_hBI0PXTvsCncrzMq049YnqwoTqtSGEHnNWQk3_EsuIcsMGBiTToEExA9nMLtazPW4lqMB3_cDFyqie8hdceovVd-hZy2Wc-rMxzjkLgzGMSBQ5iYl8Lwtex7E4/s1600/george2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="592" data-original-width="597" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2-Hd07CirVWtWgq0x_hBI0PXTvsCncrzMq049YnqwoTqtSGEHnNWQk3_EsuIcsMGBiTToEExA9nMLtazPW4lqMB3_cDFyqie8hdceovVd-hZy2Wc-rMxzjkLgzGMSBQ5iYl8Lwtex7E4/s320/george2.png" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In this great English coaching inn, experience sumptuous afternoon tea, formal fine dining, and relaxed haute cuisine, all under one historic and classy roof. I even love the toilets! (With classical Nymph-type murals, crystal lighting, and a chaise-longue, who wouldn't)?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The afternoon tea at the George Hotel is a fantastic way to celebrate in the daytime, or even relax in a warm and cosy haven on a wet and miserable day (the huge orchids add a little exotic flavour too, for added warmth). From the full champagne afternoon tea, to just a set of delicious traditional scones, it is an experience to remember, and one that locals often partake in. My favourite are the smoky salmon sandwiches, soft, pink beef sandwiches, and of course the Devonshire clotted cream on the satisfyingly crumbly scones.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">I took particular delight on the school trip to Burghley Gardens that I organised, watching the young (and somewhat naive) teenagers devouring the divine George Hotel afternoon tea sandwiches that we took with us for our picnic. Children who wound normally consider brown bread too exotic (not their words!) were</span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"> tucking into smoked salmon and medium- rare beef, bustling and jostling for more! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Garden Room is such a reliably tasty and good-quality restaurant that it is without fail, the first place that my husband and I like to bring friends and family who are guests to Stamford! It is popular and busy, with a distinct upmarket and refined but relaxed atmosphere. It has a varied and diverse menu, and feels like a real treat, but one you deserve no matter where you're from, so long as you enjoy your food. Our most recent visit with two friends and our toddler daughter was a great success. When one of my friends took my advice that the lobster pasta with chilli was a great choice, I proceeded to copy her order, lest I get lobster envy. Right on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The menu changes occasionally according to the season, however many of the popular dishes stay the same. Anything from gourmet burgers and fish and chips, to lobster and shellfish, are on offer. Everything is delicious, even the fresh bread and olives at the start (usually only a bonus found in France, which does not often cross the channel to reach us in England). </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIx93r875Lav8nwQTJ0M5RuFZABG_NfCSGRHnnEX2mgcoSm0SFqBlmqp6HXmezHB6wR20SFIZIDrw5OO-TcIvoUubPBWTvgpNy3zzkRoEAYK-eEO9jkFpAViRqI-tcExCvrVdAyxq7JEo/s1600/georgestamford.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="723" data-original-width="543" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIx93r875Lav8nwQTJ0M5RuFZABG_NfCSGRHnnEX2mgcoSm0SFqBlmqp6HXmezHB6wR20SFIZIDrw5OO-TcIvoUubPBWTvgpNy3zzkRoEAYK-eEO9jkFpAViRqI-tcExCvrVdAyxq7JEo/s320/georgestamford.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial";">Despite the beautiful floral garden décor, our absolute favourite time of year to visit the garden room is Christmas time, when the hotel, restaurants and bar, are transformed into a literal winter wonderland (but with the necessary class and finesse of course). An abundance of twiggy, sparkly, twinkly delights find themselves at home amongst the various mirrors, cornices, centrepieces and archways. I cannot wait to take my daughter this Christmas as she is now old enough to appreciate that special time of year, and the way The George Hotel bring it to life so well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Prices at The George Hotel are of course a little higher than regular high street prices, but excellent value given the reliable quality (and the portion sizes)! Even Richard couldn't finish his steak on one occasion, and that is saying something. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Practical Information</span> </h3>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Burghley Sculpture Gardens and Gardens of Surprise are incorporated into one entry ticket for around £12 per adult. This can be used for year-round entry. Visits to the House can be purchased also at the gate to the Gardens, or separately. Lunch and afternoon tea are also available in the lovely orangery restaurant. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For visits to the gardens of surprise please be aware that children and adults must wear footwear at all times. Crocs or sandals are best for getting wet and can be purchased in the lovely gift shop if you have forgotten them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The George Hotel has two restaurants - the more formal Oak Panelled Room, and the Garden Room - which cannot be booked in advance. If it is busy, there is a very comfortable bar to enjoy drinks and snacks in, with an open fire in winter, while you wait for your table, with a table-buzzer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The George Hotel has its own parking just for customers, there is usually space even during busy times, but rarely it may be full, in which case the station car park is just opposite. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><div class="blogger-post-footer">Text and Images Copyright © 2013 Lise Griffiths</div>Home in Time for Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04972244486237928622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9181649289733680908.post-38685021886410302662017-08-30T17:49:00.001+01:002017-08-30T22:38:52.053+01:00Summer Road Trip in Europe From Champagne to Sardinia! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our little family had 18 days to get from Reims in the Champagne region of France, to Sardinia off the coast of Southern Italy and back again, in our car, loaded with snacks on the way down, and acquired treats on the way back. For example, Italian shoes that fit me really well, an array of tasty French wines, and some lovely French books and toys for little Klowski.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>The rules of our road trip were:</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">1. No more than three hours driving in a day</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2. No early mornings other than the ferry back from Sardinia</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">3. To see or do something in a new place each day during the road trip</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">4. To maintain a ban on videos in the car, so Klowski doesn't become a TV zombie</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">5. To stay in one place for 5 nights in Sardinia - a holiday from our holiday so to speak!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our route South included the Swiss Alps, Italian and French rivieras, and Tuscany, with an overnight ferry to Sardinia from Livorno. Our return ferry to Toulon in France allowed us to take in Provence and the French Alps before heading back to Champagne and Northern France for our ferry back to England. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">See below for the highlights of our epic journey, followed by some tips and useful info!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Road triiiip! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Champagne vineyards at the Montagne Reims - tasting, walking and picnicking</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer toboggan run in the Swiss Alps near Kandersteg - exhilarating! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rowing boat on Oeschinensee lake in Swiss Alps. A great cable car and walk to get to it also. Stunning views! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aquarium visit at the Musee Oceanographique in Monaco. Klowski was too tired to concentrate as she had missed a nap, but enjoyed running around exploring anyway. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Five star cuisine at Chateau Eza in Eze Village, our absolute favourite. Rather than posh pomp, I like to think of this as food-art to spark all the senses! Klowski was such a good girl and enjoyed trying all the different tastes. The red mullet and saffron sauce were top notch - as was the yellow fin tartar amuse-bouche in the photo. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chateau Eza from the botanical cactus gardens at the top of Eze Village - sheer panoramic views down to the red rooftops of the village through the exotic plants, straight into the glittering blue sea. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Porto venere on the Italian Riviera, near the Cinque Terre. Beautiful but heaving with people and cars in the heat. We nearly gave up trying to park and just left, but found a space at the last minute. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fivizzano in Tuscan mountains - so rural. We stayed in a farmhouse far away from anything, way up in the hills</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Renaissance city Lucca in Tuscany - the main piazza </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cycling tandem around Lucca</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sardinia! The sea is so clear and blue, and there is such a choice of coastline despite the high season </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzh3vXpHb_HLlCEx-S8bx5Ke8ZBjnFGpfRACMaytl0szd79gYSRxSDN-q6JxR4yV8DXa3jR9c6qsl_h6-tRnrY_xEgfwD1AVjOXUahuWBNVWB3Z5UqAPjKv7Ci584rIU-IZ8uRST6sPFc/s320/20170823_154308.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paddleboarding in Sardinia at Porto Pollo - I loved this so much I wish I'd tried it years ago (although I'm not sure it even existed) </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Catalonian Spanish town Alghero - Sardinian West Coast</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_bdyCrKmMbSpZ8ibkJ5danlakVzvkDx0Pgaf_UMTpzWZy1K7pkJf0RlT6M_g3_yKqw4QPAtkrkeFTzwIwEg_C3RrX2Qac4WwXthH1sw2kug2RvZGJfGqz7oVN4qy_1iXQJgMI5Ua5er8/s1600/20170825_162351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1317" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_bdyCrKmMbSpZ8ibkJ5danlakVzvkDx0Pgaf_UMTpzWZy1K7pkJf0RlT6M_g3_yKqw4QPAtkrkeFTzwIwEg_C3RrX2Qac4WwXthH1sw2kug2RvZGJfGqz7oVN4qy_1iXQJgMI5Ua5er8/s320/20170825_162351.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking it in turns to splash about with Klowski at shallow, child-friendly Rena Bianca beach, Sardinia</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canoeing in the Gorges du Verdon in Provence</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN4izbkgaUe0p68APz3Zbdm2v19ZXmT5epwEaFSulHSeVxnFVxlZnBuv45cNCxmX2woCu9I2vXLYpFDg0667YiT3_5zFwV20_Pq8HN2zWe6EOwhs_9LseQ4lMNz2ggAgFvP3U5Gu9gPFk/s1600/20170827_121742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN4izbkgaUe0p68APz3Zbdm2v19ZXmT5epwEaFSulHSeVxnFVxlZnBuv45cNCxmX2woCu9I2vXLYpFDg0667YiT3_5zFwV20_Pq8HN2zWe6EOwhs_9LseQ4lMNz2ggAgFvP3U5Gu9gPFk/s320/20170827_121742.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Gorges seen from the road bridge</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnt65-k92La0D_sOLwKwjmZ8zyTFzWTkfGckdRUrqeRUgdvmXvjNX_YlNOVcsJEJL4RaRu68qk2YS1oyRFav4SkPrcljWcAs2dDmjiZ1yZcFiJh6CQXmdhEv2PsH0N9fkhpA5o2OBAqmE/s1600/IMG-20170829-WA0000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnt65-k92La0D_sOLwKwjmZ8zyTFzWTkfGckdRUrqeRUgdvmXvjNX_YlNOVcsJEJL4RaRu68qk2YS1oyRFav4SkPrcljWcAs2dDmjiZ1yZcFiJh6CQXmdhEv2PsH0N9fkhpA5o2OBAqmE/s320/IMG-20170829-WA0000.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back in Champagne - Troyes and its historic wooden timber buildings, with a spot of shopping! </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>How we made things easy for ourselves:</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We booked our hotels along the way, using internet sites like booking.com, using the wifi of the hotel the night before, and found them using sat nav. Although it was high season we didn't want to tie ourselves down by booking them all in advance. We did pre-book the 5 nights in Sardinia as it's expensive and competitive, and we didn't want to risk 5 nights in a crummy dump! Our hotel was a great choice and will be written about in my subsequent Sardinia blog post. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When little klowski went to bed about 9pm we used that time to research what we wanted to do the next day and to plan our next stop based on hotels, the weather etc.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We packed a big suitcase in the boot, and had one small bag each on top with our daily needs inside, so we could fill them up with whatever extras we needed from the big suitcase at each hotel. This stopped us having to rifle through one messy suitcase each time, or having to drag a big suitcase around.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We took a small 'busy pack' for klowski, with some inexpensive but fun little toys and games for her on the journey, which we changed and added to along the way to keep her interested. The only nuisance was the toddler tantrums when she threw crayons into the footwell, causing unidentified rattles, driving Richard mental. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We roughly calculated our route on Google in terms of time, and added a couple of hours for unscheduled stops and delays. I planned where to stop as we went along, with around three pre-decided places on a list to aim for on the way down, and one on the way back. </span><br />
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<div class="blogger-post-footer">Text and Images Copyright © 2013 Lise Griffiths</div>Home in Time for Teahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04972244486237928622noreply@blogger.com3