thoughts on motherhood - day 14

there's an indian proverb that children bind the feet of the mother.

would be the first to admit that i came into motherhood somewhat reluctantly. L was unplanned but not unwanted, a happy accident over early may bank holiday long weekend when i really should've been revising for finals instead of gallivanting in the lakes. sat finals in the ever worsening throes of first trimester, started work in a dangerous job (acute male inpatient psych) during second trimester and felt like my medical career has stalled before it even started when i'd to go on maternity leave. but as my wise obgyn told me (and probably all his other patients!), "there's never a right time to have a baby, but it's always a good time". and i like to think he was right. conscious that we were incredibly lucky to have a baby without any complications and have nothing but respect for parents whose path to parenthood was longer and more intentional than ours. 

the birth itself wasn't entirely straightforward. L was late and i'd to be induced, labour was initially hard to establish but we got there in the end. his heart rate dropped while i was pushing and he needed a ventouse. in a way the ventouse  helped because i literally pushed thrice and for probably less than five minutes before he was delivered in all his slippery glory onto my chest. through it all, i'm grateful that God was in control and the medical team was wonderful. words cannot begin to describe the gratitude i feel to them, and of course nothing but praise for my incredible obgyn. aside: being post-dates is probably the most annoying thing earth because (well meaning) friends keep asking if there's a baby yet (from week 37!) so that's like a month of bother despite my telling them that as and when there's a baby, i'll let them know. it got to a point where i disengaged and stopped replying because was like groundhog day, or what einstein described as insanity (doing the same thing repeatedly expecting a different outcome!). also, friends who'd elective sections just didn't seem to get it and kept saying 'oh your baby could come before 40 weeks'. to someone who was doing everything in her power to get the baby out (long walks, spicy food, accupuncture that hurt like crazy, other unmentionables...) it was really discouraging to be told 'maybe you're too stressed', because, oh hey, it's that easy. that said, i did enjoy the peace and quiet before he was born and had oodles of time on my hands to be self indulgent. i like to think it was a healthy, normal pregnancy, low risk, baby was happy and why would i have him before he was full-term? but try telling me that at week 40, i'd probably have had a few choice words.

two weeks on, i cannot imagine life without him. perhaps that's the reason behind a nine (ten in our case!) month gestation because it takes times for the realisation to sink in. while nothing could've / would've prepared me for what lay ahead, the switch just flicked when he was placed on me and everything changed in that split second.what i found helpful was friends who were positive, who told me it'd be more exhausting but also more fulfilling than i could ever imagine. their words ring even more true now he's here. without going into too much detail, what i didn't appreciate were friends, who i'm sure had the best of intentions, were negative about pregnancy / motherhood. constantly telling me 'just you wait till you can't reach your toes' or 'labour is hard then having a newborn is worse' or 'how breastfeeding is painful and hard' or 'you'll never sleep again'. didn't see the point of that - knowing beforehand doesn't benefit me and robs me of joy. and now that things are good, i'm subconsciously waiting for the other shoe to fall because i've been naive and taken the naysayers to heart. granted it's probably about frame of reference and if they've had a negative experience they're more likely to project that negative experience cos they don't know any other way. as C graciously pointed out when i'd a rant to her about negative friends i stopped replying because they got on my nerves, perhaps it was underscored by an element of baby blues. 

but the negativity is everywhere - even in choice of words and nuance. people ask how we're 'coping'. which implies it's difficult and challenging. singaporean friends are horrified we don't have a confinement nanny but we decided against the invasion of privacy and also i'm very bad at following instructions and could only envision myself going stir crazy if someone was paid to tell me what to do. it's just us three against the world and i'm constantly reminder what a rockstar the mister is. he cooks, cleans, launders, does groceries, runs around the far reaches of greater london picking up gumtree baby kit (moses basket, snuzpod, stokke high chair and newborn attachment, travel cot), does all the admin (uk birth certificate, sg citizenship application, opens bank account etc) so i don't have to lift a finger. becoming a parent has made me less judgmental when it comes to hired help - used to wonder why two adults couldn't manage their own spawn and needed so much assistance (involved inlaws, confinement nanny, domestic helper etc). but now i kinda shrug and realise it's a personal choice and the family unit has to do what's best for them.

my thoughts on the whole confinement issue are cherry picking, to say the least. for friends unfamiliar with confinement, chinese (?) women believe that the month after the baby is born the mother (and baby!) should stay home and be cared for, and avoid the cold and water at all costs. no drinking water, no showers / baths, no washing hands. just wipe down with towel (eww) and eat and drink nutritious, restorative soups and food. there's a whole industry (i call it racket) of confinement ladies who can be hired to care for the mother and newborn for a pretty penny. or the grandmothers do it. from what friends have shared, they care for the baby so the mother can rest and recover, bringing the baby to mother for feeds and giving mother lotions and potions that will increase milk supplies.

with that as the context, the mister has been sweet to brew me 6L of confinement tea every day (red dates and herbs his mother kindly sent us) and cook me so-called confinement food (food with lots of ginger and vinegar). however this has been supplemented by a healthy doses of diet coke with ice and lemon, coconut water and as much takeaway as we can bring ourselves to charge to the credit card. pizza, burgers you name it, we've had it in the last two weeks. i find the no water ban particularly gross because it's so important to keep bits and stitches (yep, war zone but i'm on some very powerful and possibly off licence analgesics!) clean and to wash my hands before i touch baby / food etc. i do what makes me feel comfortable like dress warmly, wear socks and bedroom slippers indoors, have a hot shower at night, wear gloves the rare time i'm doing the dishes so the mister gets some downtime to decompress.

we're inspired by our friends here who care for the newborns on their own and it's a complete paradigm shift from the rules and rigidity (real or perceived) in singers. while everything changed, nothing changed and we still do what we want to do when we want to. blessed to have had a speedy and uncomplicated recovery. we've been out every day for a meal or a walk since being discharged on hospital on day three. nothing overly ambitious, staying in the 'hood and revisiting our usual haunts, albeit with baby in tow. kinda cool to be back and no longer pregnant cos they must've thought i'd been pregnant forever with no sign of baby (not pregnant but fat?). ventured to the country last weekend, and again this weekend for our first overnight stay away. he comes everywhere with us and the only thing i'm picky about is germy children near him. if a kid coughs i grab him and run a mile.

he's a great baby, sleeps feeds pees and poos well, meeting all his baby KPIs. nothing disturbs him  - he slept through really loud worship in church! we get more sleep than the fearmongerers predicted with him sleeping 11pm-3am, waking for a feed, then sleeping till 8/9am since the night he was born, with the sole exception of day 3. he's a happy, alert baby, doesn't fuss, isn't cranky, only cries when he's hungry, content to sit in his own swill because we're lazy about nappy changing (bad parents!). definitely have parent goggles on when i say he's a breeze to care for. cautiously optimistic that things stay this was but also realistic that it's early days yet and it could all go tits up. so again it doesn't help when people check in and i say he's doing well and they go 'just you wait, everything will change for the worse'. you probably wonder where i find such friends haha ;) i'm already paranoid enough and don't need help catastrophising.

it's teamwork and the mister and i quickly learnt to sleep through L's heavy breathing and lip smacking if it's not our turn, with the mister doing the odd night feed so i get extra shut eye. thankfully L doesn't cry unless we ignore his hunger for over 15min (fair enough!) so there's ample warning to get him on the breast. this way we needn't sleep separately, too, which's important for us. L's been exclusively on breast milk since day 3 when we got home (topped up with formula in the hospital but didn't need to once milk came in) and i've been expressing milk now and then for the mister to take over some feeds.

on that note, breastfeeding has been an amazing experience. i'd a little the head knowledge coming into this but until i saw milk coming out, i didn't really connect the two. had a really rough night our first night home from hospital (day 3, milk came in, too engorged, L couldn't latch, i didn't know what to do and grudgingly resorted to formula for fear i'd starve him otherwise) but had a wonderful lactation consultant come round later that day. 90min with her changed everything and we've not looked back. producing good amounts of milk and back to exclusively breast feeding. am so satisfied to watch my baby feed and grow solely on what my body is making for him. it's hard not to be smug / self-satisfied when i look at full bottles of breast milk and thank God for a body that's fearfully and wonderfully made. 

it's a steep learning curve but i feel we're getting more familiar with L and his (few) needs. interpreting his cues better with time and wanting to bottle up his newborn preciousness. he's growing and changing before our very eyes and i finally understand where mothers, whom i previously thought were overly sentimental when they bemoaned their babies growing up too fast, are coming from. oops, guilty as charged.

it's been the longest and shortest two weeks of our lives and i'm once again so very glad it's just us three against the world. we want him to be kind, to have good sound values and prioritise social skills over baby algebra. figure he'll learn to read, write and count when he's ready but more importantly want him to play and regard the world with wonder as a child and beyond. we're trying our best to parent with wisdom and grace, constantly battling self-doubt and asking each other 'did we do the right thing? are we terrible parents?'. it's hard - whoever says it's not is lying - but oh so worth it and i'm looking forward to this journey with him. hence if he binds my feet so i slow down to walk with him, it's a change in pace i'm more than happy to embrace for my sweet baby boy.

park chinois

voyeuring the menu before hand, the park carbonara done with inaniwa udon, uni, pancetta and sous vide egg made it hard to say no to a dinner reso there. dark, subterranean and with clubby music, beautiful moneyed types (arab, russian and asian, typical!) was not my scene and i kept judging us for going there. had to shout to be heard at dinner (not nice) and got annoyed with the general chi chi-ness of the place. because, believe it or not, my taste runs more simple and something without table cloths and where you've to pay before sitting down is increasingly becoming the sort of dining experience i lean towards. but the waiters were attentive, frequently topping up my tap water (so classy, i know) and hm in part that might've been the MSG speaking because darn did my lips sting and boy was i disproportionately thirsty! 

the king crab with home made noodles was even better than the park carbonara and if i were ever to return, it'd be for more of this silken goodness. although i'd need bottles of coke to counteract the MSG.

was overambitious and forgot how my appetite's shrunk now that the little space invader is occupying the space where my stomach used to be. natural gastric band, much! so most of the aubergine with tofu in claypot went to waste :(

shashuka eggs

i relish lazy saturdays when i don't set an alarm and wake whenever i feel like. something tells me it's a luxury i might not enjoy in the months to come ;) but for now, i'll take it! and greedily at that. wanted to change things up a little and eschewed the weekly pligrimage to hally's. truth be told, i woke too late to avoid the queue and didn't fancy having to wait for a table. went the other way and thought to try henry root instead. now i should've known better than to think it'd be fairly priced and my eggs (a brunch item) were £14 (!!!). crass as it is to talk about money, i unfortunately had committed by going in and sitting down before perusing the menu. rookie mistake. wasn't feeling particularly spendy and could've done the sensible thing and gone for the bottomless brunch (£30 for brunch item and limitless bubbles) but hm, responsible mother-to-be thought to abstain. darn. because £14 for eggs and peppers, yummy as they were, is a little hard to swallow. 

but i did have the place to myself for the most part and got some light reading done so that was somewhat redemptive although i made a mental note to check price before entry in future.

monkey's fingers

so i've had the pleasure of being placed on a ward with wonderful people. often hear war stories of nightmare first jobs with difficult personalities but absolutely cannot complain / have asked to be part of a better team. whilst i'm without a doubt the lowest life form and right at the bottom of the food chain, i've an incredible GP trainee, great regs and the worlds' best consultant who i wish i could keep with me for every job after this. it's been the perfect balance of trust where i'm occasionally alone on the ward, valiantly trying to stand between the patients and certain death (i jest) but consultant is always a phone call away. in fact, he's so accessible that the (smart) nurses just ring him straight instead of going through me because they know they'll get an almost instant answer. 

this whole starting my first doctor job in second trimester was cause of apprehension and i cannot ignore that my job isn't the safest. but i think the dangerous aspects of it have been mitigated to the best of everyone's abilities and i try not to be a liability on the ward. i get tons of clinical supervision (which's especially important as a junior!) and am increasingly confident on the ward, running ward round and seeing patients on my own, checking management plan with consultant but am generally making the right calls and exercising sound judgment, or so i like to think!

but yes, monkey's fingers! M and i were done early one day and figured we'd hazard meat liquor outside peak hours for their monkey's fingers. which were incredible and i wondered where they'd been my whole life. because i'd time to kill before an antenatal appointment nearby, i went gin shopping at selfridges and was almost late for said appointment, because, well, priorities. sorry baby!

first pay cheque

oops so this is a little overdue but i got my first pay cheque towards the end of august and it was an insult. i hate to sound like an ingrate but four years of lawsch, bar exam and training contract, being called to the bar, five years of medical school and after all this i get <£10/h before tax. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? granted, law school and advocate&solicitor qualifications count for diddly squat but omg it was such an insult and i almost burst into tears. sorry, sorry, it's horribly gauche to talk about money and i get that. but my umbrage at being so underpaid has yet to die down, despite it being more than two months since said 'first pay cheque'. i can think of many other (respectable) jobs that pay >£10/h but let's not go there. 

i remember sitting in the mess, desperately trying to get my phone banking to work so i could check my bank balance and once i jumped through the myriad of online banking hoops, realised i needn't have been so eager. i'd heard pay was bad and having started work without a contract and with no idea of terms (salary, leave etc) i didn't really know what to expect. recognise that price and value are two separate things but have also seen the wanton waste that goes on within the system which makes me even angrier at how little i take home. if there was a silver lining to this, maybe i'd be better able to console myself by thinking about the long game, how the income curve is steep. but it isn't, and things don't look much better especially with the high taxes. yet it's a choice, isn't it. a choice to remain in the UK for my GMC registration, a choice to indulge my quarter-life crisis and retrain then switch career paths. could've remained a barrister and be earning easily 10x this by now. much as i'd like to be altruistic and say i'm not in this for the money, i also think there's something to be said about fair renumeration. for the work i do and daily risks i'm exposed to, i think that's definitely worth more than £10/h. #dangermoney, indeed.

arriving in faroe

casual waterfall drive bys, this one was near the airport. the good weather lulled me into a sense of complacency, thinking that every day would be like this. how wrong i was.

no-choice dinner of roast lamb and potatoes. lamb was overdone but nothing some gravy can't fix.

as the dust settles

it's been a whirlwind couple of weeks, to say the least. went on a last minute road trip post-exams because eight days of rocking back and forth in a padded cell was more than i could subject my mental health to, went to glasgow (!!!) to get my visa sorted and found out the next morning that i'd passed finals. the shock, the relief, the overwhelming joy. then it was back to toon for grad ball, a 'crisis management' driving lesson and then my driving test bright and early the next morning. passed that too, and felt like a rockstar. yes, been driving since i was 18 but was lazy and got an automatic licence in sg so thought it high time i grew up and learnt how to drive manual. which i did. so there!

was in singers for a couple of weeks then back to london. parents came up for grad and it was busy busy, with a short trip to the country after. funny story there - father had said we were going to the cotswolds before realising it was a 3h drive from london. he made the executive decision that a 45min drive was sufficiently heroic and we ended up at cliveden*house near maidenhead. beautiful setting, set in the national trust so lots of lovely grounds and walks. didn't have the heart to tell him that we could've just stayed in london and slept at mine, seeing how we remained so close to the city.

parents left and i pottered around the flat before deciding i needed a final fling before starting work (tomorrow!) and escaped north as i'm wont to do. lazy weekend with 12h zz, good food and good company, the perfect end to this five year sabbatical.

so i start work tomorrow and am more than a little apprehensive today. the responsibility! this is my career we're talking about! i'm working again (gulp) but the other part of me is thinking that this is about time, that this end point / starting point is what i've been inching towards for the last five years. and now i'm finally here, i should really be more positive.

snapchat

so the younglings got me onto snapchat recently and it's provided some much welcome distraction! although i fear i'm the irrelevant aunty who's all awkward on social media not quite knowing what to do / what's acceptable behaviour. how does one navigate this??? i get the unwritten insta rules (no more than a post a day, quality control, pick the best, don't over filter, don't be annoying with smug hashtags etc) and i think i've figured out fb. similar rules as insta but posting more than a photo at a time is acceptable? i'm not overly active on either, with more spiking than regular activity because honestly who takes it seriously anymore?! 

snapchat - i want to respond to things but it seems creepy to reply to stuff on other people's stories? like on fb or insta you'd see comments and it'd be public. or you can send stuff to just selected people... i use imessage for that cos it doesn't save to camera roll. the temporary nature of it appeals - but also frustrating when i read a chat but don't reply right away and when i want to reply i've forgotten what i was meant to respond to! the immediacy and urgency required is a bit too much for me. also, a chat with one of my friends hasn't wiped itself out. i'm not bothered but is it a bug? is it just her? why??? also i can't shake how snapchat was a dark corner for dirty deeds. i know i know (giving away my age with my prude-y auntiness) but i do like the video function and how it makes video taking and sharing easy! and i can download it to send to granny who's always interested in what i'm doing. the aspect throws me a little, suppose could always do it the other way round and have people turn their heads.

my inner el cheapo loves 3-5 happy hour when local oysters are £1 each. and paired with a crisp french white? that's one loss leader for the win.

party animal

have a dear friend in singers who first clued me into the joys of a roasted pig. the mister and i would traipse round to his bearing hawker centre goodies and a roast suckling pig to celebrate getting into medsch / his phD / numerous other life-changing achievements, and occasionally just because because being young and alive is reason enough for celebration, no? so it was kinda cool when our hosts took this a level up by slaughtering the fattened teenage (as opposed to suckling?) pig because there was lots more pig!!! and come on, how dramatic is watching it slow roast on a spit for hours and hours? delayed gratification at its best ;) also, i can sorta get why mark*zuck made a thing about only eating animals he'd slaughtered himself. not that i did any slaughtering but there's something less guilt-inducing about eating an animal that was born and bred in supreme comfort, treated really well during its (short) life and killed humanely. makes me want to avoid supermarket bought pork now and only have pork if it's from a farm shop and reared on site.

but this is quick evolving into a husbandry / responsible farming + consumption lecture so no! needless to say, piggy tasted amazing. roasted to perfection (our hosts are not new to this game, oh no...) and lechon as they taught us was customary for them. the skin was crispy, crunchy and chewy at the same time. they very kindly gave me the ear (!!!) which i enjoyed thoroughly and hm i don't think i can go back to duck*waffle pig ears in a bag after enjoying the real deal.

farm life

makati was overwhelming, and that's already the most chichi part of metro manila. hosts explained that when people refer to manila they probably mean metro manila which comprises a number of different districts, of which manila itself is one. we were in makati and even then i was amazed by the obvious poverty / lack of infrastructure. the taxi queue at the airport spanned the length of the building (!!!) and the train queue was beyond the platform, out of the station and round the block. our hosts said people even use adult diapers (!!!) because it's so time consuming a commute they can't afford to waste any time on a comfort break. crazY ! and i do think she was being serious :/

needless to say, it was a welcome relief to escape to the countryside after lunch at greenbelt.

is that not the cutest kurobata piglet ever? only two weeks old and so intelligent ! the moment it heard the ostriches being fed it scuttled through the holes in the fence and out of its enclosure to eat with the ostriches. i fell for its intelligence and wanted to bring it home, saving it from certain death, but alas was not allowed to :( they're not domestic and would've loved cuddles but couldn't catch them! 

cute story - our hosts were gifted a pair of kurobata pigs and the pair had a litter of seven (they killed one for dins!) and the 'children' pigs went on to have another litter of four grand-pigs. the meat was lean and tender, and i didn't experience carnivore remorse because we saw the piggies in their pen. happy, running freely, lovingly fed fresh leaves from the farm, great environment and that's when i realised the origin and good husbandry is so important.

had half a mind to pretend the palm trees were coachella but realised i was a couple of weeks off!

munich eats

went a little overboard and researched where to eat in munich, only to have plans scuppered. but it's ok - book first, talk later! after a long day out to the castles, the last thing any of us wanted to do was to haul ourselves across town. cancelled original reso and got the hotel to book something closer by. not proud of it and ended up being half an hour late for that, because, well, inertia. so the queue was out the door by the time we got there and had to be thick skinned about the dirty looks (sent brother in! always send the scout hehe) as we walked to the head of the queue and to our relief found they hadn't given the table away. thank goodness had foresight to book in hotel's name (tip: resto less likely to cancel reso for fear of damaging goodwill!) and couldn't help but feel smug about not having to queue :) hearty german food and while i initially thought the waitress was trying to scam us (paranoia wahey!) what she recommended (two course traditional german taster with starters and mountain of mains) did work out well. although i think she was trying to push us to order for the table, i saw through her sneaky ploy and ordered two (minimum order) and supplemented that with small sides. hah! (like the bavarian ox tartare below)

german food does not photograph well!

lunch the next day was the only one of my original resos we made. it was a safe choice and surprisingly tourist-free and found ourselves surrounded instead by well-heeled locals. elegant sorts who waltzed in amidst a whiff of expensive perfume. must've sounded pleading in my reservation about being a family from singers on holiday that they gave us a lovely table with a view of the opera house :) gorgeous interiors too with frescoes and the food was excellent. prices up 30% from already touristy hotel muller but hey, go in with eyes open.

consome with dumpling

wiener schnitzel and rosti

venison goulash

deep fried pork (!!!) in bavarian beer

hamsteak under eggs

and i need to sing praises of white beer. i'm not a beer drinker, only starting to drink when i first moved for uni. but i do enjoy craft beer and local ales, and did try to drink something brewed (practically) on site at every pub in the lakes. but if i was in japan, i'd only drink sake and when in munich i only drank beer. no gluehwine, even! just lots and lots of wonderful white beer. so very good and doubt will find better any where else.

day in bavaria

didn't take much persuasion to get me across the channel. was bummed not to spend christmas with family and jumped at the chance for an early celebration on the continent instead. glad to be based on this side of the world and i'd never been to munich. the mister had been twice this year (for BMW driving course and oktoberfest!) so i was more than a little envious. of course the irony is that i get in on friday night and they've booked a whole day out on saturday. we ventured into the country with stops at lindenhof and oberammergau before rocking up to neuschwanstein. tell a lie, while it was my first time in munich, we'd done a similar castle tour about 15 years ago on a skiing holiday while holding out for powder (and not that icky artificial ice). this sort of gave us license to skip the castle tours in favour of food. 

joked that old schwanstein (above) because neuschwanstein (below)

don't usually name restaurants /  cafes unless they're really good because 1) i'm not paid (haha) 2) happy to share if someone asks personally but all too wary that the www is a public space. but hotel muller at the base of neuschwanstein (it's a 30min uphill trek from there!) has the most amazing restaurant. at first glance it looks like a tourist trap and the staff seemed a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of tourists (weird, you'd think they'd be used to it by now!) and tried to get us to sit in the lobby (???). why on earth we'd want to eat off a cramped coffee table is beyond me. but maybe they thought we were in a hurry to join the castle tour (we weren't). so i held my ground and said, "no thank you, we'll wait for a table inside the restaurant... (bathed in natural light and stunning alpine views)" didn't end up waiting long and the food was served almost instantly. they must have a high turnover! 

so can i just say best. wiener. schnitzel. ever. you know how these things often look deep fried and disgusting? one can almost feel the heartburn from looking at a piccie? well this was different. the veal so fresh, tender and juicy, the breadcrumbs crunchy and fried to golden perfection but not oily (how???)  but it wasn't just that. everything else was amazing. even the salad. salad!!!! frau muller was also a reknown baker so the pudding was worth trying too but i was still reeling from that schnitzel. 

have to agree the best views of a castle are from the outside? or maybe that's me being sour grapes having not gone in but did go in as a teenager and must've been forgettable because i don't remember it now. and i do remember most other things, whether i want to or not! gimme food over culture anytime :)

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!!!