morning thoughts

rolling hills and olive groves

i mean how breath-taking is the view? the rooftops reminded me of the istanbul train scene from skyfall, without the adrenaline rush. the mister obliged and let me snap photos of him. we laugh that every holiday album can be captioned 'the mister and his personal photographer go to...' because there are precious few photos of me. undoubtedly more comfortable behind the camera than in front, and maintain i'm completely unnatural and unphotogenic which makes it even harder to photograph. my father is probably the only person who takes satifactory photos of me. the mister has his moments, some turn out better than others and i hated most of my wedding photos because i didn't like how i looked in them, talented as our photographer was. totes not his fault, and also not confessional of body dysmorphia.

coastal drives

it was early afternoon by the time the mister coaxed me out of the hotel and am i glad he did. see, i'm a really boring person and was perfectly content reading vogue from the shady cabana. but the mister is inquisitive and wanted to see more of the island. in retrospect it was a good call because the island has a rugged charm and faded elegance to it, and lovely as the hotel was, i would not have had the best seafood stew ever had we not ventured to banyalbufar. the towns have such curious names and i had trouble remembering them so must've told the poor front of house back at the hotel the world's worst story when she asked if we got up to much that day. 'oh ! it was really nice, we drove to, um, the town that's, uh, a distance away? and had lunch overlooking the sea at, uh, c'an something?' unintentionally vague because that really wasn't saying anything at all because all restaurants are c'an something or other. and it could've been any town with coastal views because it is a small island! 

urns out it was banyalbufar (she guessed correctly! clever lady!) and the bubbly proprietress took an instant adoration to the mister, grabbing his face with both hands and promising him the best seat in the house. no complaints there :) towards the end she warmed to me too and started calling me guapa, which was cute because i wasn't feeling left out at all.

the windy roads didn't disappoint! and the mister was determined to catch the sunset on the western most part of the island. the sun set really quickly and we stopped for roadside beer before heading back in the dark.

morning in majorca

breakfast was served till the civilised hour of 1030 and made it in time, barely! was lucky with the weather and the soft golden light was almost liquid. feel now's really the best time to go as it's deliciously warm and sunny but without the hordes of tourists. the room, while dear, was still substantially cheaper with it being off-peak and we were upgraded to the royal suite (!!!) which was more than a little insane. absolutely besides ourselves with glee after the manager left the room, because convulsing with el cheapo joy is just not done in polite company.  had so much space we felt obliged to make friends to fill the emptiness with, you know? because there was a huge study, living room with four (!!!) four seater sofas, our own sun terrace, garden with hammock and hot tub, plus pond with water feature and cavernous bathroom that felt like roman baths. didn't want to be pinched and woken from that dream! excitedly took a video of the room to send to fam and was instantly met with oohs and aahs. oh family, what would i do if i couldn't share it all with them :p

the hotel was even more stunning with daylight streaming in through the big windows and it felt like there was a natural rhythm about the place. the guests had a leisurely breakfast on the patio then bring bubbles and coffee through to the terrace i.e. follow the sun to read until it got too hot before retreating to a poolside cabana. felt all the stress of the real world melt away and it was lovely to slow down to holiday pace. glad we don't have problems unwinding, in fact our problem is we unwind too easily and default mode is relaxed heh.

oh and that's our little ground floor wing of the hotel! deckchairs behind the horizontal bush and suite just beyond. can't recommend the place enough! the staff were lovely and incredibly attentive, spoilt us rotten and were perhaps a little amused by the youngest guests. the mister says our spending habits are unpredictable because we rented a cheap car, eschewed the seven course degustation but ended up spending more on less food off the a la carte menu one night, had room service one afternoon and a burger dinner by the bar on our second night. then spent on cocktails and olive oil but not wine. couldn't bring ourselves to drink too much wine because trust the mister to go to the town's lone supermarket and find the region's best wine for a song, only to later see it retailing for more than treble the price in the hotel. so obvs we downed the complimentary bottle of bubbles and the specialty cocktails but eschewed the wine. actually tell a lie, i nursed a glass of their reserve red during dins (half the price of a good bottle at the supermarket :/) but didn't feel like more than a glass then. a bottle would've been excessive!

majorca!

don't think this was how i'm meant to spend white time but who's counting! the scheduling gods gave me some opportune time off and on a whim the mister booked us to majorca. have heard lots of good things about the balearic islands but never thought to go! my relationship with london is love-hate at best but one of the things it does have going for it is its sheer connectivity. love how we're really only a couple of hours flight away from endless holiday possibility. was never much of a sun seeker, and still am not, but it's been a wet and grey few weeks and was desperate for some warmth. the mister, bless him, was quick to oblige and made it happen at almost no notice. which sort of takes the fun out of delicious anticipation but hey, a cheeky majorcan jaunt? count me in! we were lucky with the flights, seamless and took off on time. the bubbles with breakfast were a nice touch (well done, BA!) and okok maybe we were a little extravagant for a short-haul flight ;)

touched down in palma and the savvy mister who'd done the math figured it was way cheaper to rent a car than get hotel transfers for two both ways. hadn't planned on leaving the hotel (he jokes that i don't really see places but hotels...) but figured having wheels would give us some flexibility for exploration. although there is a rather incriminating photo of my grumpy fase on fb taken the exact moment he mooted leaving the cabana to check out the coastal roads. 

will be posting over the next few days about the hotel and the (reluctant) touring we got up to so do check back if you'd like to see! 

willing bell boy eight years and counting!

starred resto by day

and by night!

beautiful setting in old stone barn, a far cry from the stone bunkhouse i've spent a few nights in with wilderness medicine! they do an amazing christmas 'do or so we're told. and the olive oil was divine. it's all from their land but outsourced to be pressed and we couldn't resist loading up the suitcase with bottles for a chosen few friends.

also, we stuck out like sore thumbs because everyone else was senior citizen and white. not that i'm usually conscious about these things but i do wonder what's going through their mind when they clock us. just like how over dinner we'd people watch and guess their backstories, like the elegant german couple who wore the same thing two days in the row. the lady oozed a refinement that money can't buy, and the man looked like an evil inventor sort in suspenders. suspenders!!!

sunday roast

trying to go easy on red meat after that scary NYT article but old habits die hard. also sometimes just hankering after a sunday roast, you know? while my favourite is still harwood*arms because they can do no wrong, the need for novelty is moderately high and we ventured a little further afield. wasn't terribly impressed and felt they could've been more generous with the meat. and for a pseudo-foody place opened by masterchef*professional finalist i thought they'd have a bit more pride than to serve rubbish cider. took a sip and returned it, and i'm usually not picky! the bartender was incredibly understanding and said he agreed wholeheartedly and has been asking the management to take said cider off the list for months but they insist on serving it!!! got a glass of house red that was slightly more drinkable but not much, and when the bill came it was nice they didn't charge for the cider even though i'd said it'd be fine to leave it on. but they did charge for a large glass of house red (which i'd left half of behind) because i didn't specify size of glass? cheeky! 

the butter with beef fat dripping was divine though, but insufficient to warrant a return any time soon.

oh come on, what a piddly portion of meat.

moseyed into town after to check out the fenwick's window! it didn't disappoint but i felt a little smug thinking of the orchard road decorations and how they're infinitely superior. can't compare, i guess.

escapism

to risk being incredibly uncool by talking about it (because i'm easily impressed and was overwhelmed by the opportunity) i happened to spend the night in the country in a safe house. without going into too much detail, i've a friend with an unsafe job and she was in town for work. she knew i was around and invited me back to hers for dinner with people in the same industry. as she was staying a distance from city centre (and i'm spoilt and don't drive) she'd initially asked if i'd like to spend the night. was too paiseh to accept because for some reason i'd presumed work had put her up in a rural hotel and i didn't want to inconvenience anyone. so i got a ride out with her after work (straight from the drug and rehab centre i was at and into the fire!) and was gobsmacked by her accommodation. turns out it's a proper house with full-time staff and panic buttons! because there may or may not have been an attempt on her life the weekend before (thankfully she wasn't around). this obviously appealed terribly to my inner bond fantasist. sort of awkwardly retracted my initial answer and did spend the night.

hadn't seen her in a few years, the last time being outside bond*street fenwicks and she'd clued me in to their brow bar. so it was a lovely catch up over tea and cake before her guests arrived, then i was showed my room (!!!) before we re-grouped for pre-dinner bubbles. it felt like being on a movie set, or what it must feel like if cluedo, the whodunnit boardgame, came to life. 

"it was the disgruntled barrister with a candlelabra in the drawing room..."

it'd been weeks since i'd met a non-medic (sad but true) so i was in the throes of intellectual ecstasy for the next 12h. because her guests were incredibly clever and i sort of sat in rapt attention soaking it all in. there was a fair deal of medic bashing which i refrained from joining in but couldn't help secretly agree with, and a lengthy discussion about the n*hs. ironically, this bunch has never used the n*hs (no surprises) but their observations were astute enough for me to find the argument compelling. i suppose i find it hard to articulate what it is i miss about my previous life and it's that breadth of knowledge and collective wisdom. medics, bless them, often don't know much beyond medicine and the world is so big it's a waste to know top to tail bodily and no more.

best night in a long time, slept like a baby without nightmares of potential risk to life and limb (!). had a lovely breakfast with more brain tickling banter and rode back to work with her before going in search of a massage. gotta love a mid-week morning off.

come wine with me

don't know about you but the mister and i celebrate most things with alcohol. not the healthiest of habits but it's testament to the power of advertising and branding, like how it's not a celebration if we don't pop open a bottle of champers. in fact, C very kindly gifted us bubbles graciously carried to london from trieste that we'd been saving for the occasion. it was such a labour of love (especially on ryanair!) and sweet of her to want us to try a product her hometown was famous for. all for cottage industry and this was from a small producer that doesn't export. she's born and bred and proudly trieste-ian(?) so if it's got her vote of confidence, that's more than reason to try. 

oh! but for this celebratory steamboat meal we cracked open the brunello the mister's folks carried home for us after his tuscan trip two summers ago! they were in london when i was having exams and he knew for the sake of my academic transcript the three of them were better off in italy ;) good call, mister. without going into too much detail, it was a rough time at work and the mister brought the brunello to look forward to when the tide changed. 

speaking of tuscany and brunellos, we've a bottle in singers waiting for me to graduate from medsch. because it was while we roadtripped tuscany in 2010 on my grad trip that the idea to sit medsch entrance exams and apply germinated. keep saying that if not for the mister's encouragement, and signing me up for entrance exams the same time as the bar exam (!!!) i would never have bitten the bullet. so we bought a good bottle then and i hope it's somewhere safe with his folk in singers for us to share with family when we're next home over summer. and our respective folk aren't big drinkers so hey, more for us :)

as a funny aside, the mister unilaterally decided our current red wine glasses were substandard (they're ikea...) and insisted on only drinking out of 'proper' wine glasses. which resulted in a race against time to the shops before they closed but we got lucky and it was love at first sight (for him) at john*lewis with this set. i initially lamented the expense but as the night wore on and the alcohol got the better of me, the wine glasses started to grow on me and now i think they're absolutely splendid and wonder why we didn't splurge earlier. oh i know why, he didn't have a fab job then ;)

the mister in new england

it's been a busy week for the mister. he was in singers then straight to NYC for the marathon. as he nears the end of his time there, he wanted to do something to give back to a city and community that has given him so much over the last year and a half. he's not a runner and it was his first marathon so i was understandably worried because i took my marriage vows seriously. wearing my medical hat, it was #worriedwife all the way because 1) no training 2) long haul flight (he's been flying for 24h!!!) and 3) uh 42km ?!!! should've known better and was relieved when he completed it in double quick time. he's full of surprises and wahey, turns out he's a more than half-decent runner!

reminded of what my mother told me once upon a time i.e. marry someone superior to you in every way...

after the marathon it was onwards to boston for some solo travel while i was (am) in the throes of this never-ending paeds rotation. we're both big on travel and i'm happy to be with someone who's comfortable with his own company to travel alone. it's one of my favourite things to do because in this world, the person who, i enjoy being with the most is the mister (probably a good thing seeing how we're stuck!) and if i can't be with him then i rather be on my own. grateful for the space to do (safe) solo traipses, like to barca earlier this year. so the photos below are a glimpse into the mister's fall colours escape, before he comes back to me tomorrow :) and then we've some pseudo-exciting weekend plans to catch the fireworks.

if it was anyone else, i'd be really upset they'd sent me a slew of envy-inducing photos. i mean, look at the food! the fried clams and all that lobstah goodness??? but because it was the mister i felt nothing but pure joy that he was sucking the awesome outta life and enjoying all the good stuff on a platter. if that's not love, i don't know what is.