Marsaxlokk and Seafood

Today we took a boat trip to the fishing village of Marsaxlokk (the x is pronounced sh, so Marsashlokk). Due to a bridge being fitted to the breakwater in Valetta our route was slightly changed but our guide and Cap'n wanted to risk the wrath of the harbour authorities to get his group as close as possible to the historic event. The original breakwater was built by the Scots but was partially destroyed by the Italians in 1942 leaving a gap between the breakwater and dry land. Only now have the Maltese authorities decided to replace the missing span with a new bridge built by Spain at the cost of 2 million euros and it was to be fitted today. The harbour police had created a wide exclusion zone from the work and our cap'n sailed too close to it. The authorities came charging towards us waving furiously. Cap'n Luis waved back in a friendly manner! After a brief, heated exchange in Maltese we sailed away from the perceived danger zone and around the breakwater at a suitable distance. On our return in the afternoon, it was hoped we would sail in under the new bridge but the task had proved more difficult tahn expected and when we returned the bridge was still on the delivery vessel. We were able to sail through the gap in the bridgewater though. Marsaxlokk was not as picturesque as I had hoped but it was a lovely harbour and it was full of local fishing boats known as Luzzu (the double zed is pronounced as in pizza). They are brightly painted and have eyes on the stern for good luck. We had lunch in a local restaurant servinf seafood. Sean had the tuna (which is farmed on the island) and I had the special, Rock fish, which was delicious but overly expensive and took 45 minutes to serve. When I complained, the manageress clasped my hand in hers and said, 'But you must understand, my dear, that this is a special dish that requires special cleaning and preparation. The oven must be at just the right temperature. It is a delecate procedure.' I felt a total heel

Dog in a Handbag

I have heard about it. I have read about it. I have even seen evidence of it in gossip magazines but until today I had never seen a dog in a handbag! It was a tiny dog in a medium sized handbag and it was looking out at its surroundings in a quite content kind of way but I was left with the following questions; was there anything else in the bag? Was it purely for the purpose of carrying the dog or would the owner also carry her purse, keys, lippy etc in beside the dog? What about suitable poop-proof lining? Was there a special compartment for poop? Or treats? I feel an emptiness in my life now. I need answers. Please help.

Malta

It’s holiday time and I am desperately in need of some sunshine. Summer has been a complete wash-out and I want some rays before the winter darkness sweeps over me. We only decided to come to Malta about two months ago so it has come along quickly but I am settling into it now and enjoying unwinding in the Mediterranean sunshine.
We spent our first night in London and went to see Les Miserables at the Queen’s Theatre on Shaftsbury Ave, I saw it many years ago in Edinburgh but Sean had never seen it. Alfie Boe was playing Jean Valjean and it was, of course, excellent.
There were no flight hitches and we arrived in Malta on time and in the sunshine. When I booked the hotel, as an incentive to book quickly they offered us a free limo pick-up from the airport. A bit flash, I thought, but why not? The limo turned out to be a Peugeot...bit of a come down! However, the driver was chatty and had lots of information about Malta. I guess the motto is beware of incentives!
We are staying at The Palace in The View Suite. The hotel has six themed suites and The View is on the 8th floor with wonderful views over Sliema and the harbour. There is a tiny balcony off the bedroom which I can’t go out onto as I get vertigo but the larger balcony off the sitting room is much better with loungers and sitting areas. W were greeted with a complimentary bottle of wine and cookies. Nom. Oh, and there is a telescope in the room, in case we decide to become peeping toms!
We took a quick walk around Sliema before coming back to the hotel for dinner in their rooftop restaurant called TemptAsian. The food was very good with plenty of it and for pudding I tried Fried Ice Cream. I was half expecting a bowl of hot milk but it was actually a scoop of ice cream wrapped in a kind of pancake and deep fried. I guess it is a variation on Baked Alaska. It was very good and I would recommend it to any ice cream lover.
We returned to our room briefly before heading down to the open air bar on the ground floor. As the lift door opened we were confronted by a German couple who must have just left the restaurant and were too excited for each other to wait till they got back to their room. Sex in the lift when you are only going down 4 floors is just too much of a quickie for me but they were going for it and even hesitated a moment as we entered as if they weren’t sure if they would stop or not! Life is never dull and we both had a laugh about it!
Today we took the ferry over to Valetta across the harbour. It has been very hot all day and we must have walked miles up and down the hills that the city is built on but it was a great day and a fascinating city. I particularly liked the Archaeological Museum where there was a collection of ancient female figures denoting life and death. The one that I especially like is called The Sleeping Lady and I have been hoping to acquire a copy in the tourist shops but they seem not to have that one although they have several others. Curious. Needs further investigation.
We returned to the hotel in the late afternoon to freshen up and have a quick bite to eat before heading back to Valetta for the all night festival called Notte Bianco. The whole city was transformed into stages and performance areas for singers, dancers, poetry reading, marching bands, you name it, it was happening. Many of the historic buildings were also open for free. What a great night! Young people, old people, families with children and tiny babies...everyone was there and taking part. We loved it but our legs were giving out on us so we have now returned to the hotel to get some rest before tomorrow’s boat trip to a fishing village and market.

Another birthday

There is a little red-headed girl who lives at the end of our street. It is her birthday today. I know this because her parents decorate the tree in their front garden with balloons and stars each year on her birthday. I do not know the family but every year when the balloons and stars go up in the tree I heave a sigh of relief and quietly wish the little red-headed girl another happy birthday.
It is not that she has a life threatening condition or illness, as far as I am aware, but that each summer she has been running, cycling and playing ball games in the street. This began as soon as she could walk and has always been unsupervised by any responsible adult. I am simply glad that she has survived to play another year.
Ours is not a busy street and it is a 20mph zone but I am amazed that in her short life she appears to have avoided injury or death as she runs and cycles back and forth across the street. I suppose, like us, other drivers know that she is there and reduce speed accordingly but she must also lead a charmed life to have reached another birthday. May you have many more birthdays little red-headed girl. I just wish your antics didn't leave me with my heart in my mouth so often!

Travelling (too) light

I would like to consider myself a seasoned traveller. I have travelled en famille, with Sean, with friends and as a solo traveller. In fact one of the original thoughts I had for a title of this blog was 'An Idiot Abroad' as I knew I would inevitably have to recount some of my strange experiences and situations that I find myself in when I am let loose on the world.
Despite a well stamped passport and a long term love/hate relationship with Scotrail and East Coast Railways I have never mastered the art of packing. I belong firmly in the school of 'I might need this so I will pack it despite the fact I have never needed it before'traveller. This is not to say I always remember to pack everything that I do need. Most commonly I forget to pack my hairbrush and toothpaste but I have been known to completely miss out underwear. I tend to think that as long as I have my passport and tickets I can always pick up anything I have forgotten in a local shop when I reach my destination.
Sean, on the other hand, is an expert packer. He always says, 'Lay out all your clothes and money that you wish to take, then pack half the clothes and twice the money.' He got packing down to a fine art when he spent three years commuting between Aberdeen and The Hague. Each Monday he would leave for the airport with a carry on case and return on Fridays ready to do it all again the following week.
Recently we travelled down to Bridge of Allen for a wedding. We stayed overnight in the Adamo hotel where we had a wonderful evening meal before retiring to the bar and finally to bed in preparation for the forthcoming wedding. Given what I have stated above, imagine my shock when Sean's first words when he woke up in the morning were, 'I haven't packed my tie.'
This revelation, in normal circumstances, would not elicit the panic I felt just then. After all, suitable neck wear can be picked up in any gent's shop or department store. The problem was that we needed a Red Gordon tartan tie to match his kilt! However, not only were we still in Scotland (there would have been no possible solution in any other country!)but we were in Stirling so there simply had to be kilt shops aplenty in which to find, if not Red Gordon, then something suitable. Given that, it still took visits to two shops before he returned with a Red Gordon tie!
The wedding, despite the rain, was wonderful. The Bride, beautiful, the groom charming and the guests, witty. And Sean, well turned out and handsome!

Reptiles

Sean doesn't speak any French but we have been coming here regularily for 8 years so he has inevitably picked up the odd phrase or two. And, of course, many French and English words are very similar. So, we were driving from Foix, where we had been to the weekly market, to St Girons, where we were going to the Intermarche to pick up a few things for our evening meal, when we passed a sign that said 'Ferme de les Reptiles'. After a few seconds, Sean asked 'Did that just say 'Farm of Reptiles?'. I congratulated him on his perceptive translation and a few miles further on we passed a sign saying 'Parc Dinosaurs'. I had to laugh at the apparent one-upmanship! 'But', interjected a very serious husband, 'only one of them will have live exhibits.'
I do hope it is the latter but we didn't stop to find out...

Dutch Cyclists.

The area around Biert is a favourite place for walkers and cyclists. The Tour de France regularily comes through here and most of the visitors to the area come for the mountain trails and cycling opportunities. There are about 30 Dutch cyclists staying in the auberge near where we are staying and as we have been driving through the mountains around here they have been puffing and panting their way up and freewheeling down the windy mountain roads.
I do wonder, though, what practice Dutch cyclists have for the mountainous terrain in the Pyrenees. Holland is famously flat so I guess the first few days must be murder on the leg muscles and then they either get used to it or give up and succumb to the call of the wine.

Unknown whiskeys

Tony and Sue live fairly close to the Spanish border so we decided to drive over for the day. There isn't a lot to see except for stunning mountain views but the town of Vielha is quite pretty. Unfortunately we got there in time for the siesta so everything was closed! We managed to have some lunch then went for a wander through the old narrow streets but couldn't do any shopping.
A lot of French people travel across the border for cheap goods and booze so there are many supermarkets and factory outlets dotted along the roads. On the way back we stopped in one of them, a soulless warehouse piled high with bottles of every kind of alcohol. I was particularly interested to see how many kinds of whiskey they sold, several of which I had never previously heard of. The kind called Sir Pitterson was a strange pink colour and was available in 2 litre plastic bottles! This was probably the worst offence against whiskey but was by no means the only one, unfortunately.

Toulouse Tales 2

Toulouse is also known as The Rose City because of its red brick buildings. The bricks are long and thin and reminded us of the buildings in Pompeii. I guess the Romans are responsible for this feature. The centre, where we were staying, is dominated by The Capitoleum, a local government building on a large, busy square with cafes along the opposite side and various events staged in the centre. In the short time we were in the city there was a bustling market, a tented protest/artist’s event, anti racism protest, various musical events and an exhibition of Toulouse’s multi-cultural diversity. There is a great mix of ethnicities in the city which is reflected in their music, shops, cafes, restaurants etc. Toulouse is also, of course, a university town so there are many students on bikes and mopeds. We were especially enthralled when, on Saturday afternoon, people began to arrive on the square with sofas and arm chairs. At first I thought it was a street act but as we walked back through the square later in the evening there were groups of young people arranged on the sofas and chairs having a good time with friends, listening to music or even making their own music! What a great way to spend an evening with friends! Like an evening in, but out!
One drawback of having a room overlooking the square was a certain amount of noise from the crowds but they were very good natured, no loud drunkenness and the music and drumming stopped before midnight. In the morning the square was clear and ready for another series of events.

Toulouse tales

I’m not a novice traveller but I still sometimes, inadvertently, behave like one. Leaving passports in airport security is a basic blunder that most but the scattiest travellers can avoid. Unfortunately, on this occasion it is I who will provide the humorous tale to be retold in the security staff’s coffee breaks. Going through security at Aberdeen airport, I laid our passports down in order to put my shoes back on and collect my bag and camera. Sean had gone into the second security queue so when he came through we walked away to check into the lounge. It was only when I was looking for my lounge membership card that I realised I didn’t have the passports!
I ran back to security and as I approached it was obvious that the security staff were ready to have a joke at my expense. Had I changed my mind about travelling today they inquired. Yes, they did have two passports but could I confirm the names before they handed them back!
Oh well, never a dull moment!
Paris CDG is not our favourite airport but it was the cheapest available option for a connection to Toulouse on this trip. One of the major problems we always have in CDG is the short connection times and the distance between arrival and departure gates. This time the pilot decided to land at the northernmost runway and taxi for 15 minutes to the southernmost point before parking up several miles from the terminal so we had to get a bus back to drop us off in the wrong area and then do a sprint across to the right gate!
We made it in time and joined yet another security queue behind the French equivalent of the Bullingdon Club, one of whom was wearing a Dominique Strauss-Kahn mask. Oh what hilarity! His chums were finding all so amusing.
Our flight was boarding as we got through security so at least we didn’t have to wait around at the departure gates. One of the other reasons I dislike CDG is the total lack of decent facilities at departures. The cafes are tiny and crowded and there are no interesting shops for browsing.
Usually on arrival in Toulouse we head straight for the hire car and drive south but this time we had booked a hotel in Toulouse for a couple of nights where Tony and Sue would join us before we went south to their house. Our taxi driver from the airport to the Grand Balcon Hotel was very chatty so my limited school girl French was fully tested! I even managed to check into the hotel without resorting to my usual plea that they speak English!
It is a lovely boutique hotel right in the centre of the city overlooking the main square, known as Le Capitole. There is a general 1930s flight theme and I believe St. Exupery stayed there. The decor is black and white with paintings of monochrome clouds on walls and ceilings. We had the suite on the 2nd floor.
As suites go, it was small but very comfortable. There were a couple of quirky features though, that I will relate here. The en-suite shower room was beautiful, with a large walk in shower and His and Her modern wash hand basins. Nothing unusual there, except that there wasn’t a door on it! Direct, unhindered access from the bedroom!
Over the bed there was a smoked glass picture of clouds in grey and black tones. Or I thought it was a picture! On closer inspection, we discovered it was a window...into the shower! As I said to Sean, after 30+ years together I think we know each other well enough for this not to faze us too much!

Swans and wet feet

The morning started dull and damp but by lunchtime the sun had come out and the sky was blue and clear.
While the rest of the world celebrated International Women's Day in March, Orkney decided it would be on April 2nd (today). I went into Kirkwall to lend my support to a programme of events at the Town Hall. Unfortunately I missed the talk about Beatrix Potter as scientist but I really enjoyed talking to some dynamic women who had created projects to help women and children in Bolivia, Zimbabwee and Bangladesh among others. It is absolutely amazing that a tiny island community of less than 20,000 people can support 5 substantial projects in a variety of countries around the world.
It was such a beautiful day I decided to go to Stenness to photograph the Standing Stones at Brodgar. I love my new camera, a Christmas present from Sean! As I was leaving I noticed some swans swimming close to the edge of the loch so wandered a bit closer to see if I could get some photos. Another couple of photographers were thinking the same and gor there before me, scaring off the swans in the process. However, I managed to creep up on the pair as they were preening their feathers further along the waterside. I was amazed how close they let me get but the hazzard of waterside photography is wet feet! Never mind. I think I got some decent photos. If the weather stays this good I will get out to Skara Brae and perhaps Maeshowe too.

Seeing Stars

I arrived in Orkney at 11.15 pm on the Hrossey from Aberdeen. It hadn't been the best of crossings but it was a beautiful evening in Kirkwall. The road was quiet at that time so I drove out to Mum's really quickly. Of course there was nothing to see in the dark but as I got to Mum's and stepped out of the car I looked up at the star filled sky. It had been so long since I had actually seen stars in the sky as they are usually obliterated by city street lighting. It was breathtaking with so many twinkly lights up above in an absolutely clear Orkney sky.