Travel – Page 4 – Gardens. Travel. Life.

Posted on September 1, 2016September 1, 2016 by happyretiredblog

The start of an awfully big adventure.

So we have left the city and arrived off the mainland. Today starts a week of whale and bear trips. So. Up at 6 to be ready for breakfast at 7. At the pier at 7.45 to kit up ready for the off. It’s absolutely chucked it down all night but there’s a bit of a lull as we go and get kitted up.

It ain’t attractive – for starters I look like the Michelin man. And that’s before I start. When my mother went into her nursing home after a fall I went into see her straight off a flight as we had been on holiday. ‘Help Mum’ i said. My dad ‘ you know who this is don’t you’ she looked At me carefully. ‘ I have no idea but who ever you are you need to lose some weight.’ That’s Alzheimer’s for you. She never recognised me again. She wouldn’t have today for sure. I digress – as usual it’s my mothers fault. It usually is.

Here you go. Guide insists you also need a fishermans mac. Gloves. And a hat. All to add to what you have already. I think an XL raincoat. Your having a laugh young man. Try triple X – I want to breathe as well as be able to move my arms.

So. We are all sat in the boat. Well it’s a dinghy really. Sits 8 and the guide who is driving? The thing. He starts on his outline. ‘Excuse me’ a shrill voice says. Can I use the bathroom. Use the bathroom! You only left your hotel 5 mins ago. And got dressed up the same as the rest of us. Now you want the loo. God help you. You’ll have to peel off the layers. If you can actually fit in the cubicle. She apparently did as eventually she was back. And we were off

To say it was wet was an understatement. It chucked it down. Between the mist and the rain you couldn’t see the person in front of you. Find whales. I couldn’t even find the head of the person in front.

There were breaks in the rain. Few and far between. We circled for hours. Rain lashing at your face – I didn’t know why we were given goggles. Until you got hit in the face with driving rain. I’m on holiday for gawd sake. I need sunshine – I have to top up my farmers tan.

We were wirelessed. There had been a sighting of killer/orcas whales that morning. So off we went. Another hour in the rain. Skirting the shoreline. Still no whales. We stopped near the shore watching a couple of bald eagles circling overhead. That’s when I could lift it. Between goggles. A hat. My camera stuffed in my boiler suit.

Look over there the guide said. There’s a grizzly bear on the grass. Ian saw it through binoculars. Good buy that. Then there were two. B—/-r this – I whipped the camera out and took some photos. In the rain. Not great as we were a fair way off but cropped and lightened you can see it’s a grizzly. Apparently 3 years old. Ish. I don’t know how he could tell. I suspect he was nether at the birth or is a Godparent.

Excited to see a grizzly in the wild. Was I. Do bears …… We are off to Great Bear Losge tomorrow for 4 nights and I’ve already seen two. But no whales. So off we go again. In the rain.

We are not twins. We don’t dress alike honest. But today we have. We will not win any fashion awards for this either. I’m too embarrassed to show our faces.

A shrill voice again ‘excuse me’. I need a toilet stop. Woman. You had one when we started. We are in the middle of open water. Your in a boiler suit. With a fishermans mac. ‘Hang on’says the guide. ‘Here’s a bucket and the back of the dinghy’ Full marks tho – somehow she did it. Round of applause for the lady. ‘It’s alright for you men’ she said. ‘With those useful things of yours’. Huh. Useful? It’s not a bottle opener. ‘We’d have to find it under all this gear ‘ a smart Alec replied. Speak for yourself I thought – though he was right. Im not even going to try.

We were close to the shoreline and looking at waterfalls. Great – Move on thought Ian. Where are the whales.

I need to go to specsavers. I thought the sign said big boy Stuart bay and this is where we eventually stop for lunch. Still no whales. No big boys either. I’m grateful for thermals.

Getting off the dinghy was a scene from the generation game. Who could Look the most stupid exiting the boat. First off was the woman with the shrill voice. What did you say the number was for the toilet. Guide gave her two different codes. She sprinted up the ramp. She was still trying to enter the wrong code as we all reached the top. She had entered the code too many times and she had locked it. But she went. Twice. Only after she’d done a dance. Well a jig. Still no whales.

Bald eagles yes. Whales no.

Weather gear hoisted back up. Zipped up. Hats on. Goggles on. We set off again. But it was sunny. Hurrah. But still no whales. We saw sea lions. Big things sea lions. Hunting for salmon. Not the tinned stuff. Fresh. Plentiful.

Harbour seals basking in the sun disguising themselves on the rocks.

But still no whales. So we headed back. Looking at whirlpools on the way. Scary. Fascinating. 35mph. Bumpy. Windy. But I feel asleep. I don’t know how. But I did.

Back on dry ground. Walking funny. It was s good day. Sea lions. Seals. Bald eagles. And two Grizzlies.but no whales. Tomorrow is another day. And a 2.5 hr drive.

Posted on August 30, 2016August 31, 2016 by happyretiredblog

Well hello Vancouver

So I arrived at my hotel in Vancouver – I must check that my t shirt doesn’t say miserable old git club. Taxi driver must have had a text from London. Another no talkee no tippee. No ‘ welcome to Vancouver’ another grunter and the only dialogue – ‘it will be thirty five dollars.’ Oh. But the journey in. At least the sunset was there to greet me.

So I get to the hotel. . As I suspected I felt something out of Pretty Woman. And sadly not Richard Gere. . Get to check in desk. ‘ Good evening there is a room reserved under the name of Mathieson’ . ‘ good evening Mr Mathieson. How was your journey. Could I have your passport’ ‘ I’m Mr Jones’ I replied. ‘ Mr Mathieson arrives from a business trip in New York tomorrow’. ‘ Ah yes – he has your name here – the room is paid for. But may we take a credit card for any incidentals. We can swop it with Mr Mathieson’s card when he arrives tomorrow’ ‘no need I say’ It’s from our joint account anyway. It will be charged to my husbands account. And off I trot to our room. Without a Julia Roberts crop top in sight. Not chewing gum either. But noting that we need to use the name Mathieson -Jones more often. ( oh. A crop top reminder. One day I will tell the story of the crop top and the hair. – two defining stories in my career) but that’s for another day.

Hotel is fab. Great view over the bay. Comfortable bed – more so as I have it to myself. Joy of joys. But. I can’t sleep. So without anyone telling me I can’t. I shouldn’t ( Ian) I take myself out at 6 am for a walk. With my camera. It’s so quiet and peaceful and I think I’m alone as I walk along the cruise liner dock. Alas. I have heavy breathing down my neck. May I suggest that If you are going to get that close at least introduce yourself first. No. I’m not in luck. It’s early morning joggers. Sounding like they are having an asthma attack. I curse not going on that first aid course when I was working. But the kiss of life to my colleagues was seriously unappealing and I was told that I couldn’t pick and choose. So I declined. Though I did have a card that said CPR to me could only to be given by ……..

The only other thing that’s moving is the slowly emerging cruise liner creeping silently into the harbour. Magnificent in its beauty. It’s quieter than my jogging buddies. Moves more elegantly. Actually faster than one of them. I’ve never been a fan of running. Not for excercise. Not for the bus. Maybe to catch the last tub of Hageen das pralines and cream. Otherwise there will be another bus.

The ocean liner ( sounds More romantic ) glides into dock. We’ve often wondered about a cruise. But I’m not sure. We were at a quayside in New Zealand as the passengers descended. . That put me off. Thousands of them. All off the boat for the obligatory tour. Marshalled off. Marshalled onto buses. Mmm. I would feel a row coming on. And not just between me and Ian.

Ian arrives – earlier than expected – tired after New York but raring to go and wander around the city. Ive been up since 5.30’and awake most of the night anyway. I wasn’t so keen. But we did. Vancouver is glorious. Has a great feel to it. Even when your tired.

We walked. And walked. And walked. But like any city in any country you can be admiring things of great beauty and one wrong turning you are on the ‘ wrong’ side of the street. A friendly guy stopped us at the traffic lights. If I were you he said. Turn right. Not left. That side of the street is not for you. He was right. We live in London. Homelessness is a visual reminder in central London. But this area was something else. It’s tragic. Everyone has a story to tell. Someone’s child. Someone’s sibling. Someone’s parent. Insane things that made me sad for them. Not me. I’m a very lucky person. I know that. But drugs I just don’t understand. Seeing someone inject in front of you disturbing. The guy who directed us was also homeless but his kindness was awesome.

We took a dinky little ferry boat out to Granville Island where there is an amazing market. I noticed the guy at the wheel had a cracking cut on the bridge of his nose. I recognise it..I’m reminded of waking up with a similar cut decades ago. With two black eyes. People still try and rib the ‘dirty mark off my nose today. – the market. Trendy. Wholesome. Organic like the carrots. And tourists. Some looked orgasmic. And organic.

Granville island

I tricked Ian into a pic. It was our anniversary but still I don’t know how I managed. Of course we had wished each other happy day – well more like a taxi driver grunt – than a formal acknowledgment. Neither are big on celebratory gestures. We are still together 25 years later. There’s been better there’s been worse. But we are still here. And retirement suits me. Suits us both.

We wandered the streets. We walked coal harbour Marina. Saw yachts. And more yachts. We walked through Stanley Park. We contemplated bicycles. They looked nice. But to be honest they didn’t have any with stabilisers. Or padded seats. Or with a chauffeur. So we walked. Everywhere. Oh yea. To gas town. To china town.

We were trumped in Gastown

Oh how I wanted that wig tho to be fair there were a fair few I could have borrowed at the hotel. If I’d asked nicely. The trump wig. Not Hilary.

Also why are some guests so LOUD. Breakfast should be reflective. I don’t want to know about Kitty’s labour. Her third divorce. Her plastic surgeon. Oh. And Bob. He works so hard. Huh.

Though one very nice guest (LOUD) said to Ian at breakfast. Gee. I love those shoes. Just as well he’s a confident guy. You’d have to be. All heads turned. Yes they are nice. – he should have told her Clarks. street. In the sale.

She could have been quieter like our friends daughter who is also here on holiday who we met in the bar for drinks. She too liked his shoes .

So we do another museum. Another Picasso exhibition more art. Picasso and his muses. The dialogue at times more interesting. I’m not a huge fan. I like it. But I’m not mad for it. Good exhibition but at $24 entrance you had to get your money’s worth. A great exhibition though by courtesy of the artist Bharta Kerr Mater and Hauser & Wirth was my favourite. Funny that. Hauser & Wirth who are ten minutes from the cottage in Somerset.

Bharta Kerr Mater

And no. It’s no me with a MUN. ( man bun to the uninitiated). But it could be. Only from the back. Maybe not. I do need to lose a few pounds.

Shall we walk to Stanley Park?. Why not – it’s only roasting out there. What about bikes do they have padded seats. No. Then we will walk. Which we did. A fabulous park right on the city doorstep. A rose garden – going over – of 3,500 bushes. Still smelling. Well like roses. A dead headers nightmare. One for the under gardener I think. The cyclists use the cycle lanes. Unlike London where they do not.

I love people watching – some people call it being nosey. Hands up! Guilty. But look – a bride waiting for a husband. Not it’s not me. Alone on a park bench. A story waiting to be told. She is beautiful

A colourful man on a chopper. Well it looked like a chopper. Hands high. Bottom low. I was in awe of his t shirt. In a larger size obviously. I always wanted a chopper.

So we wandered and wandered. And wandered. 11 miles that day. 8 the day before. Fitbit challenged. Knackered in plain English. Oh and we saw totem poles.

Now we are heading for Vancouver island. A ferry crossing. On a large ferry. Walking around the decks I realise that you know what. I ain’t ever going on a cruise. I couldn’t throw a wobbly and storm off. Well I could but I’d either get lost. Or wet. But Horseshoe Bay is lovely.

The temperature has dipped 6* since the ferry docked and we are now awaiting ferry number 2. It’s been a long day. A nice drive to a mid way point of Thursday’s destination.

So we check in to hotel number too. On a small Island…..and ask for a different room. That doesn’t happen very often. But this time it did. A nicer room. Quieter. Not so dark. Sitting on the balcony we are greeted by two passers by. How was the fishing today Good catch.? We only arrived today we replied. The fishing conversation continues. I mean. Do either of us look like we are fishermen – Ian quietly says to me. ‘I really don’t think this is the place to wear my blue shoes to dinner this evening do you? ”No I replied ‘ and I don’t think I will be ordering those blousey cocktails I had last night either! ‘

Encouraged by my lovely friend sara I have once again looked at Instagram. When I first looked. I didn’t get it. At all. So armed with a new camera I am posting a lot of holiday pics on there. So if your already bored of GBBO and X factor it’s under Pitcombe123

So….. The next few days may be bears and whales. Or bare whales. Or rain. Of which it is chucking it down. I may have webbed feet by the time I return. After Thursday we will be incommunicado for 3/4 days. No wifi. No mobile. No tv. No social media. Just old fashioned talking. Oh and Limited unscented toiletries at an eco lodge somewhere in an estuary having taken a seaplane for an hour with limited luggage. I won’t even smell nice. I’m glad we bought some thermals yesterday tho. May be cold sitting on that boat or in that hide. Getting wet.

Will I finally find the answer as to what bears do in the woods?

Posted on August 27, 2016August 27, 2016 by happyretiredblog · 2 Comments

Leaving and arriving on a jet plane 2 – ramblings

So. Mr taxi man had no tip. He grunted when he removed my case and that was it. No have a nice flight. No where are you going. I don’t think I had a thank you when I handed over my cash. No talkee. No tippee.

A smooth check in. And the nice lady gave me a paper ticket to Wave as I got on. A wander around duty free. I don’t really get duty free. People buying things they don’t really need. Or have forgotten to pack- which is usually me. . Well at least I will smell nice as I leave the terminal. Everyone wants to get you to test their new and fabulous perfumes. Some smell fantastic. Others smell like well. They smell. Once again I think of my mother. Not that she smelt awful. Never. But she would have remarked it smelt like a tarts boudoir. Quite how my prim and proper mother would know how one would smell always surprised me.

I refrained from purchasing anything. Not even yet another moisturiser from Keilhs to add to the 46 we already have.Well nothing other than a big fat breakfast 3 flat whites and a Diet Coke. Somehow the Diet Coke made it feel ok for the breakfast. At 4pm. On a Friday. The one thing I miss in retirement. A big fat breakfast at the Docklands diner.

As usual my flight is delayed. Everyone’s fault. Baggage handlers. Air traffic control. It was delayed by 20 mins this morning even before I left home.

It’s A long walk to the gate. The gates go to number 42. Yes. My gate is the furthest away. The slow walk on the moving pavement. Are they really necessary? Then the queue to get on. Why? I don’t know. Unlike sleazy jet or rhino air we all have allocated seats. It’s not a free for all. A bun fight. We have seats. I’ve got to like budget airlines. Especially Ryan air who let you have two carry on bags.

Then why am I like a rat up a drain pipe at the off and first through the barriers like Eusian Bolt in a rush. But there is a bonus when I settle myself down in my seat. Parked ( is that the right word) next to my flight is the Olympic carrier with a gold nose. Unlike my nose which is red as its pressed right up against the window. In awe.

I know it’s just a plane. But it’s not any old plane. it’s the plane that carried all those athletes I stayed up half the night for.

what a joy. A painted gold nose. Right next to my flight. Most people were oblivious. Too busy stuffing oversized bags into overhead lockers. Arguing with their travel companions. Fiddling with the entertainment system. This is history though. Take a look. A picture. I did and sent it to as many people as I could. Who knows what haul Tokyo will bring. By then I’ll have my over 60 oyster travel pass. Free travel on London transport. Boy. I’m gonna make use of it.

But when your sat waiting to leave you need to look around. Especially to see who is sitting next to you. Hurrah! No one. I have a 9.5 HR flight with no one beside me. No one in front of me. Leg room for my short stumpy legs. And not that awful seat in rows 68 next to the toilet.

I have few phobias. Snakes is my biggest. Started when I nearly stepped on a sunbathing adder on the walk to the beach in Wales. And plane toilets. I try and avoid the toilet on a flight. Short haul is fine. Try doing that in a flight to New Zealand. Impossible. I have a fear. No. Not of getting sucked down into the depths of the plane when flushing.- an urban myth. Not leaving to a queue outside tapping their feet because you’ve been in there for an age. But a fear of toilet doors on planes . Decades ago as a young inexperienced traveller there was an incident. An embarrassing incident. Well embarrassing for me. Hilarious for others. I didn’t lock the door. Not properly. Sat with my trousers around my ankles when the plane hit bad turbulence. Door jolted open. I was the entertainment. So forgive me fellow travellers. I now take an age. Just locking. And checking. And locking again.
So. It takes an hour to taxi on the runway. There are 10’flights behind us . The M25 for planes. Except larger gaps between vehicles, no overtaking and no runway rage. Ooh I wish I had s secret camera. The cheeky couple trying to blag an upgrade. They don’t. The man shouting at his wife over his headphones to get him another wine as she sneaks into business class to go ” to the loo’. Yep. Same couple. I suspect I should nip in there. I’d get a better class of viewer should the loo door fail again.
I didn’t sleep. At all. 9.5 hrs. No sleep. For fear of snoring like a snorting pig and no Ian to nudge me in the way that only he can. In disgust. Because he never snores. Huh. Or dribbles and wakes with a creased face.

I get quizzed at immigration. How long am I staying. What do I want to see. I mumble and she asks again what my plans are. Why do I feel quilty. I’ll tell you why. It’s 3am uk time. 7 pm Canadian. I’ve been up since 6am. I haven’t slept. I’ve sprinted to get through passport control. I barely know where I’m headed now least of all what I have planned for the next two weeks. I mumble Gardens. Botanical. Museums. I mumble Vancouver island. Fishing she asks. I nod. I can’t be bothered to explain that I hadn’t travelled all this way to fish. I eat fish. Which I buy. Not catch. She scribbles on my immigration card and waves me through. I suspect the numbers she writes mean something. Like tosser. But let him in.

All that was worth it though. Met by a glorious sun getting lower in the sky welcoming me to Vancouver as I take a cab to the hotel. Tired. Knowing I’ll have to explain that yes the bookings in Ian’s name. And no he’s not with me. And no it’s not a pretty woman type of check in. Do I like a hooker. Don’t answer that. Because I’m tired. And I look like ….,

Tomorrow will be another day and the start of the holiday proper.

Posted on August 11, 2016August 12, 2016 by happyretiredblog · 5 Comments

Gardens. Villages. Days out.

Have I told you that I have retired? Ok. I have. On more than one occasion I know. Well I’m still getting used to it – it’s nearly 9 months now. How fast time goes when your having fun

When I retired I decided that once a week I would have a day off. A day off Ian remarked. Surely every day is a day off now. Ha. I said. Look at the list you’ve drawn up. Septic tank. Boiler service. Alarm service. Flood gate service. Garden. Weed. Tidy. Check this. Cancel that. ( please don’t mention the attic or the cellar. That’s winter work) I’ve enough to keep me busy for months.

That and school runs. Courses. Jeremy Kyle and Tipping point. I need a day off all duties and it’s called Me time. So I rebelled and I have. Well not every week but some of them. In London I go to galleries. To lunches with friends and ex colleagues. Who happen to also be friends. I walk. Have coffee at my favourite coffee places. Breakfast at greasy spoons. Alone sometimes. With friends other days. But it’s always what I want to do. Selfish. Me. For those days. Yes.

In Somerset it’s been lovely to visit villages and places that I haven’t been to for a while. Or for some not at all – which – having been here 22 years is a bit shocking. There are places still on this years list. I’m embarrassed to say I haven’t been to the garden at Hauser & Wirth this summer. It’s a glorious prairie garden designed by Piet Oudolf and is only a 5 minute drive away. Shocking. There’s also a fab gallery and the great Roth Bar and Grill

Last year at Hauser & Wirth

So today I have had a lovely trip to Bradford on Avon. A short drive from the cottage but we were last there over 10 years ago on a wet and miserable Sunday where there was little open. I know it was over 10 years ago as it was pre two god children and we were there with their parents. All I remembered was this cute tea rooms The Bridge Tea Rooms in the centre of the town where we ate cake in damp clothes. It still looks exactly the same. Well it would really given the age of the building! – former blacksmiths cottage c1502. Previously we didn’t see the canal. Or the Tithe Barn. We saw very little now come to think of it. Except clotted cream. Scones and some sandwiches. Oh. And rain.

The Bridge Tea Rooms

The tourist attraction for the town is the canals. I’m not sure a canal holiday is for me to be honest. Enclosed in a small place with nowhere to go if I had a hissy fit. Which I have been known to have every now and then. Nowhere to stomp off to. But everyone seemed happy and smiley as they worked the boats. And the locks. Those amazing inventions. I’m sure we’d have a few rows with those. And the directions. We have usually had at least two before we navigate out if the car park at the airport. God help us on canals. I don’t suppose they have sat nag? Do they.

Canal Barges

Made me think of my mother. She had a saying ‘ oh. He has feet like canal barges’ – seeing these today made me think of that!

Even the dog looked cntent.

There’s a fab old Tithe hall. Beautifully crafted. Gorgeous light. Stunning open space. A 14c monastic stone barn. You couldn’t use it for dancing tho. The floor is too uneven and ridged in parts – so no dancing – especially in heels. Which I wasn’t wearing. Obviously.

Tithe Barn Bradford upon Avon
Glorious crafted roof

Glorious light

It’s amazing how these structures are still standing and thankfully this is grade 1 listed. Looked after by English Heritage so it will be around longer than me.

You don’t go to Bradford in Avon to shop. If you want coffee or cake then that’s fine. Or to eat. Or more coffee. There are lots of coffee shops. lots of eating places. But there again there are lots of tourists. But it’s not packed out. Well not today anyway.

Lovely light & flowers in the alleyway

There are cute views. Small little alleyways. With a plant here and there.

There are narrow streets – the type I drove down unintentionally in Spain breathing in and praying I met nothing coming toward me. It worked. I didn’t. But I realised at the end it was a one way street. I may have or I may not have uttered a few swear words as I drove through.

Gorgeous views. The friend I was with likened it to Bath. Without the madness. The crowds & the high street shops. Which isn’t a bad thing.

She’s right. I will be back. And before another ten years.

Last week I ventured somewhere new. I had heard about it from friends. From Facebook posts. From witters on Twitter. But had never been. Shame on me. I was taken to lunch at The Walled Garden Mells

Tables near the cafe

A fab place for lunch. A great garden. Awesome pizzas and great quiche and the delight of a scone and cream. Jam first. Of course. There are lots of lovely sitting areas. It’s fab.

I don’t want you to think I’m entirely selfish and exclude Ian! We do manage to do some days out together. We have been making the most of our National Trust membership. This month we have visited Lytes Cary Manor a nice (ish) Manor House but I was more impressed with the borders in the garden and the lovely allotments.

Moody shot of the house

Fabulous allotments

We also returned to another we hadn’t visited for a while Stourhead
It’s such a lovely house and garden. We decided to give Kylie a run out and to walk around the lake. Just us not Kylie.

Kylie

The walk around the grounds is stunning and I wished we had taken a picnic to sit by the lake and take it all in. But we didn’t. So managed a takeaway tea and a sarnie. To be fair it wasn’t bad at all.

So it’s been a good few weeks. I’ve visited The BP portrait exhibition in London. Twice. Because once is never enough. I liked it more the second time and I had a few favourites.

There were some I didn’t get & some I liked more than others.

So the rest of the month is busy but with no days out. We have our annual river clearance coming up where for one day and one day only each year I don waders and long gloves and with the village people ( better phrased – people of the village- before you think Indian headdress leather chaps don’t really work in water) clear the river of debris and crap. Not your actual crap. That stopped flowing in the river years ago.

River Pitt – the river. The old bridge and the Heron

Then it’s off on our annual holidays! Together. Where no doubt there will be photos. And a bit of a blog.