secret beaches

hotel backed onto a local farmer's field ! liked how our hotel used produce that was locally sourced, in fact the tomatos and lemons were from right next door. and because having breakfast is a sign that we're on holiday (have the bad habit of not eating much before dashing out the door during term time!) we made a point of having late, leisurely breakfasts on the roof terrace. 

the floor manager tipped us off about a beach just down the cliff from the hotel that we visited after checking out. during high season, it transforms into a throbbing beach club but because we visited so early on, it was deserted. felt like a little secret beach! it was fun to stroll on the narrow lanes and randomly follow stairs down (like going down the rabbit hole) to find yourself on an empty stretch of sand and uninhabited stretch of coast. briefly joined by another holidaying couple who bravely took a dip in the freezing meltwater for all of three seconds as we tried not to stare in amazement. then they came out as quickly as they'd jumped in, toweled off and we helped take photos of each other before they moved on.

and because the cafe was closed, we borrowed their deck and chairs for the afternoon and watched the tide come in. this was when i was reminded that nice as hotels can be, and blessed as i am that the mister spoils me, the best things in life are free. to live simply and enjoy nature at its calmest is such a luxury.

positano by night

didn't take us long to be positano-ed out and soon returned to the hotel to decompress on the balcony. the mister liked the option of having positano so close and accessible, without actually wanting to spend very much time in it. funny man :) he did book us into la sponda for dinner and hm i personally found it disappointing.

after a massive lunch and potentially massive dinner, the mister was smart to go to the gym in the evening. having long ago resigned myself to overeating on holiday, i hunkered down with the mindy project and caught the amalfi sunset. the sun streaming into the room was beyond words, and this unfiltered photo does not do it justice.

la sponda was nice but i'm not a big fan of m*starred places and this was no exception. think my aversion lies in how most places are style over substance, and you're paying a premium for bells and whistles that i can do without. give me hearty trattoria fare any time! that said, rossellini's in ravello probably set the bar so high any meal that came after it would pale in comparison. now that's the exception where a 2 star place surpassed my already high expectations. 

also, had a little awkward moment with the well-meaning waiter at la sponda who asked at the end of the meal how many calories i had. this rattled me somewhat (although it was probably just banter) because 1. do i look like i'm the calorie-counting sort of twit?! 2. was he insinuating i should be counting calories?! either way he couldn't win. as a girl who's proud of not having food issues nor body hang-ups, i thought it presumptuous and subjugating to assume that all women watch their diet because that's the last thing i want to do on holiday.

view of positano from the syrenese (?) hotel terrace. loved how it was twinkling in the twilight, and that was essentially my view for dinner except the mister kinda blocked it.

foray into positano

the mister was going on about how the whole point of positano is to admire it from a far. because 'you cannot see positano from positano' and he was absolutely right. glad to have found a sweet hidey hole at one of the towns just before positano and camped out on our balcony. with the mister, nothing is accidental and i hadn't realised he'd planned for us to have a view of capri too, so we could gaze at capri and nostalgic me could reminisce as we traveled round the coast to it. he's probably more romantic than i give him credit for... 

we did venture into positano on one of the days as the hotel had a shuttle to and fro to spare us the nightmare of attempting to park our chelsea tractor along its narrow streets. excitedly asked a french tourist from the hotel to help take a photo of us with positano in all her sunny glory and this is what we got. not to be racist but really i only trust azns and people i can outrun (that limits my choices!) to take our photo :(

THIS WAS WHAT I WANTED. ugh.

after maybe half an hour fighting the crowds, we sought refuge in a small bar overlooking the beach and whiled the afternoon away watching the street artist work his watercolour magic. galvanised by our drinks, we eventually emerged and hazarded chez black and weren't disappointed. massive portions and settled down for food coma in the shade.

ravello continued

one of my more plaintive refrains to anyone who'll indulge me is how the mister plans super action packed holidays, when all i want to do is sit on a deck chair and not move. finally all my whinging got to him (poor husband!) and this trip was one of our most chilled out to date. flew into naples, rented car, cruised along the amalfi coast, stopped at small towns for 2 nights each, not doing very much in the day because the hotel's too nice to leave, then moving on i.e. driving max 30mins to the next town. wash, rinse, repeat. 

the ravello hotel is right up there with our best sleeps ever. built into the cliff, it's a converted home of a noble family and tastefully furnished with hermes. i'd never seen an hermes sofa nor cushions before and felt like such a plebe trying to discreetly take photos to send to my parents. it had a beautiful pool and sea view so we literally moved down to the pool and didn't budge for one day. watching geckos scamper around the stone walls was such a luxury because it meant we were truly on holiday with nothing better to do.

on our way to the next town, we stopped in amalfi (the town) to dip our toes in the hustle bustle (not to forget sampling the local delights at da gemma) before moving on. amalfi has a busy, if charmless, beach and i'm glad we didn't spend more time there than necessary. tell a lie, we did return for pizza a week later. but that's another story.

ravello

A friend borrowed our tiny third hand car while we were traveling and kindly offered to send us to Gatwick in exchange. Seeing how it’s over an hour away and required some complicated overground rail travel to get to, we were most appreciative. Landing in Naples was a bit of a shock. Sentimental memories aside, it was really grotty and run down. As we were last there during the month long (?) garbage strike in 2007, it didn’t stink as much this time. 

But it’s far from pretty and as we landed on a Sunday and our favourite pizza place was closed we hightailed out of the city and straight to Ravello.

Our travels are predictable in so far as the mister plans and delivers while I bob along behind, taking pictures and documenting things as we go. It was a little awkward when some friends got in touch about being at Amalfi at the same time because I didn’t know our itinerary (and when we could meet)! It’s sweet of the mister to keep things a surprise and as a former control freak, I’m only too happy to relinquish all control. I like to think we play to our strengths, and the mister's thought process was evident. i.e. stay in small, charming town, make brief forays into the busier touristy towns and find hotels with different, amazing views of the same sea. Our first stop was Ravello and we chanced upon an Easter play where the whole town shut down to re-enact the Passion of Christ, going as far as to cover all shop windows with burlap sheets and store signs with sack cloth. 

But first, we stopped along the roadside for local fruit from a jolly farmer, and some moonshine. Then we checked into our hotel and were stunned by the gorgeous view and amazing service.

When we did finally tear ourselves away from the balcony, the town was such a sweet, colourful place to mosey along.

Stocking up! Might've gone over our weight limit with bottles and bottles of wines they don't export and ended up having to buy more baggage allowance at the counter. Still worth it, we hope!

They take Easter very seriously. We stood in the freezing cold for over an hour and trespassed the neighbouring hotel's doorstep for the best views. Not so worth it.

amalfi coast

Having worked once upon a time, a two week Easter break was a luxury. Tell a lie, it was a week Easter break and Reading Week. Conscious to make the most of my downtime, the mister planned a trip to the Amalfi Coast. This visit was some time in the making. Almost seven years ago, we were backpacking through Italy and stayed at the tiniest hostel in Naples, complete with coin operated lift. The hostel was on the 7^th storey of a derelict building and we were too cheap to take the lift. On a whim, we visited Capri from Naples for the day. It was winter and Capri was deserted. The seas were choppy, the Blue Grotto was closed and we were one of the few clowns on a traditionally summer isle. I think we even walked up from the port because we were counting our pennies and EUR1.80 was too much to pay for the funicular. Off season travel aside, Capri had a distinct charm and the mister said he’d take me back “properly” one day. And the mister, he’s a habit of making things happen. Like how when we first visited Iceland in summer 2008, we agreed that if we ever made it so far as to get married, we’d get married in Iceland. Not fake marriage where you register in one jurisdiction and do the whole shebang in another… I think signing the papers IS getting married and everything else is secondary. But back to Capri!

So it was really nice to be re-visit Capri a few years down the road. In (almost!) the right season too, throwing in the Amalfi Coast for good measure. The mister shrewdly planned the holiday such that we stayed in hotels that had just opened for the season, within a week of our arrival in fact. That way, we were paying the cheapest possible rates, got upgraded at every stop because the hotels were less than half-full and had lots of attention from the staff.  Also had most of the facilities to ourselves and um there are hardly any other tourists in our photos. The downside, though, was that it was a little colder than I’d anticipated and on more than one day, while the mister looked like he’d stepped off a runway, I looked like a runaway in layers of coats.

In a funny coda, our car rental was upgraded to fiat500L. We love the fiat500 and have always driven that on previous trips but this time when the mister put his foot down at the first car the rental gave us, all they had left was the massive fiat500. Did think the counter girl gave us a big car to take the mickey as we whizzed along the narrow coastal roads, but no. Will be posting some photos from our travels over the next few days. Do check back if you’d like to see.

 (not where we stayed this time!)

toon

the mister was already in the midlands and drove further north on a whim. toon was on her best behaviour and we soaked up the spring sunshine that weekend. as a die-hard fan of geordie shore, the mister was keen to see more of the quayside where the house is. but i like to think we picked a few non-GS featured places and had leisurely brunch and cheeky pints instead. do think it's a dubious honour to be featured on geordie shore and quite liked visiting slightly more refined venues.

it's not something we're proud of but we waltzed into brewdog right after brunch and tried not too look too degenerate drinking before noon.

but when in toon, do as the geordie's do! if anything we were surprised there weren't more locals after 'eye-openers' at the brewery.

just showing off

so the other day i was at the GP and played with this little toy in between patients. one explanation is that i'm in the pink of health. the other and more likely is that it's broken. ok choy, it better not be broken.

just so you've an idea of normal parameters. normal BP is usually <140 and average is 120/80.  <120 is good and <100 brings to question if my brain is being sufficiently perfused. it's not the first time (usually <100) and am now used to people commenting, "oh. that explains why you're the way you are!" i.e. underperfused. thanks, guys... and normal heart rate is 60-100 so being low 50s would be normal if i was a professional athlete or particularly athletic but uh i'm far from. which makes me wonder if i've an underlying cardiac problem. in my defence, took this reading while my persistently annoying clinical partner was having a break. which means my heart rate and blood pressure is usually slightly lower when i'm un-agravated. hmm.

sg day

we'd a funny moment a while ago when a houseguest apologised before saying something good about singapore. his pre-amble was , "i know you guys don't like singapore very much but..." this kind of shocked us because while we're not flag-waving white-wearing singapore die-hards, it's very much home and somewhere we see ourselves returning to. our families are there, we've grown up there and despite  not agreeing with everything the way the country is run, you take the good with the bad. and we're appreciative and grateful there's more good than bad. i don't understand people who slam singapore especially when they / their families have been beneficiaries of the policies in place. yes, it's not perfect. yes, people can be self-righteous and unforgiving, but we're a young nation and have some growing up to do. ironically, relocating to london has shown us how fortunate we were in singapore and i miss the convenience and efficiency on a daily basis. so we were quick to reassure our guest that we loved hearing success stories about singapore and are proud of the +65. 

so when sg day rolled round, we were excited to go! it was our first sg day and mister contrary-ian decided to drive. despite the multiple exhortations from the organisers not to. ok. so that's one thing we don't like -the excessive paternalism and nanny-ing. but just as well they did because in true compliant fashion, there was roadside parking aplenty and we parked (for free!) right next to the venue with no difficulty. mister was justifiably smug about that! 

the queues were horrendous but we weren't expecting otherwise. we'd invited our dear friends who hope to relocate to singers at some point and it was a toss up between queueing 2h for carrot cake or hanging with our guests. no brainer, even though it meant all we ended up feasting on were literal combat rations (shortest queue). the mister refused to touch the mock meat glutinous rice, sweet corn dessert or tomato ketchup noodles.  tell a lie, we did scoff some soto ayam, soup kambing and tau suan courtesy of kind friends who took pity on us sitting morosely on our state-provided picnic mat eating army food.

the entertainment was good! gurmit singh reprised his role as PCK, much to our guest's delight. who'd have thought that this incredibly sophisticated, cambridge*educated top*barrister would've been a closet PCK fan, confessing to being the proud possessor of the entire box set. and that's a trait that makes us like him even more. i think it's great when people stay grounded in the face of strastospherical success. 

after singapore day, we linked up with our little group of london transplants and set a new record for number of people in a small car. crept along to broadway market for pho, iced coffee and drinks on a sunny sidewalk. and because we were still hungry after that, went to dirty burger for dinner. i love chilled saturdays with good food and better company :)

compleat angler

one of our dearest family friends tied the knot at the compleat angler almost 30 years ago! and a grand uncle had visited in the 60s (?) and half a century on, still gave rave reviews during dinner. being so near yet so far, we decided it was high time to make the trek one weekend. it's hardly a trek (that's just me being melodramatic) and it was a beautiful drive along the water. it's as if the hotel's been frozen in time, although it showed signs of a new-ish management that didn't quite appreciate its rich heritage. things like the largely foreign restaurant staff. again, not to be hating on foreigners (hey! we're foreigners too!) 

aside: was joking with a south african consultant about having to report to medsch weekly to make sure i was actually doing my degree. because, really, foreigners worthy of scrutiny give up perfectly good professional careers to be students. and he told me about how when he first came to the UK he was an 'alien' who had to visit the police station weekly to be tracked. glad i'm not a police station regular but can you tell i'm still grumpy about being monitored???)

but the waitstaff had difficulty understanding us and we had trouble making sense of what they were saying. service wasn't great. we arrived at the reservation time but was told the kitchen weren't ready. waited 20mins in the lounge but weren't seated when the restaurant did eventually open. had to go looking for the host and remind him that we were still waiting for our table despite the restaurant being half empty. also, the hotel thought it sensible to carry out noisy drilling and repair work at 1pm on sunday. smack in the middle of sunday lunch. so the picturesque river scene was punctuated with shrill drilling and banging of the non-amorous kind. not the peaceful lunch we'd envisioned! food was edible but overpriced and i get you're paying a premium for the settings but when you throw in the lack of quiet enjoyment, we weren't the most satisfied of customers.

i guess it's a nice enough restaurant...

hotel's definitely seen better days and wouldn't recommend nor return.

i concede that husband is convincing

one of the downsides to living in london is that our home becomes a default storage facility for family and friends who buy things online. then again, it's probably our fault for offering in the first place. but we're such big softies when it comes to the people we hold dear that i'm more than happy to lug home health supplements and milk powder and baby clothes (for other people's babies). doesn't hurt that it's the mister who does the heavy lifting... 

so recently we'd a tiny h&b kerfuffle. to spare you the mundane details, i wanted the mister to put an order through because being the mature, responsible adult i am, i managed to temporarily misplace my wallet and cards. of course the website acts up and only part of the order goes through. throw in fast expiring vouchers and having to pay for shipping (i'm such a sucker for marketing ploys), there i was getting myself into a right tizzy. so i send the mister a terse whatsapp telling him to please fix it.

within minutes he's got it sorted. and we end up in a better position (1. free shipping on two orders, neither of which qualify for free shipping... 2. use of vouchers from two separate accounts despite only making the purchases from one account) than if the order had gone through correctly the first time. while i wonder about my new year resolution to remain calm and serene despite the circumstances (haha, as if!) i'm ever grateful for a +1 who magically makes my tiny, insignificant problems go away.

the idle hour

had guests in town who wanted to go "outside london" for lunch. the mister and i are in mutual disagreement about what constitutes london. to me, central london stops in zone 1. he's a little more generous. whatever the case may be, i don't think barnes is in london any more than richmond is. but we were feeling lazy and agreed that barnes was sufficiently far away from the madding crowd for the purposes of a suburban lunch. chanced upon this charming hidey hole and we weren't disappointed. the lone waitress was delightfully attentive and the food was fresh and local. it's the small things like that which make all the difference. hope to make it back one weekday night for the live music, but it was a glorious saturday afternoon with the first signs of spring (this post is a few weeks late!) and next time we want to give guests a taste of london that's not quite piccadilly circus, here they go.

(oh and the fries in goose fat were amazing.)

the florentine sheffield

it was one of those weekends when we decided to skip town for the heck of it. we'd not been to sheffield before (tell a lie, i had as a child) and it seemed like the sort of place that one might spend a leisurely weekend it. the mister was quick to find a sweet little hotel online and we rolled up late on friday night, just in time for dinner at the restaurant. the restaurant was famous for steak so of course we'd ourselves a huge chunk of red meat. the service while polite was patchy and we literally had to ask five times before we got some tap water in addition to our cocktails. it wasn't even a busy night! 

however, the welcome basket was a nice touch, and the room was pretty (below is not our room but one i took a cheeky photo off because the door was left open!) what i liked about the welcome basket were the handmade cookies (from the hotel) and chocolate (from a local chocolatier) along with the bottle of ground coffee and san pelli for the drive home. 

what i didn't like was being woken at 7am by the unholy racket of last night's glass bottles being taken out to the dumpster just below our window. the room we stayed in was called criollo so do avoid that at all costs. but the other rooms were closer to the heavy fire door that slammed incessantly through the night. pick your evil? it'd been a long week of women's health with pre-dawn starts and 12h shifts so the last thing i'd wanted on a weekend was to be rudely awaken at 7am -mumble grumble-

but the hotel did look lovely in the morning light, with the bar and our breakfast table below.

what i was a little disconcerted by was how the interior designer seemed to have taken all the 2012 (?) designer trends and squeezed them into one hotel. hanging lightbulb-esque lights? check. hipster penguim book cover wallpaper? check. quirky signs with witty copy? check. came across as trying too hard and we later realised the hotel had been recently bought over and rebranded.

 

cheeky copy and the sign to the bar

petersham nurseries cafe

so one fine sunny spring day, the mister and i went nursery shopping of the non-infant sort. doesn't matter that last year, our spoils were short-lived. i know i go on like a broken recorder some times but being young and living in london has afforded us so many opportunities we remain truly grateful for. it's not all big, life-changing things but simple things like taking our third hand wheels for a spin to richmond. yes, we try not to swear as we (ok, he) battle traffic on putney bridge but when we finally hit the 'burbs, peace is restored. the nurseries are gorgeous and the best place to spend a sunny afternoon. we weren't organised enough to book weeks ahead but were fortunate to score the last two top :) the hostess was an absolute sweetheart and we felt far from chastised for turning up with a reso. i mean, in snotty places, the hostess can be so condescending, telling you you should've planned your life in advance because, really, one can't just waltz in expecting a table now...

asked if we'd like to order drinks on arrival. and with the bar cart right there! sneaky. but yes, thank you, we'll have two berry bellinis please!

the food wasn't too photogenic but we were told on good authority by foodie friends who visited last summer to have the cheese plate. i did and it was divine. even the mister who isn't the biggest fan of blue commented that it was a very likeable blue. lunch was leisurely despite the quick service (the waitress almost apologised for the 20min wait for freshly baked tart tatin!) and we managed to drag it out till well into the afternoon. then continued wandering around the nursery soaking in the dappled light and romancing those gorgeous chandeliers for when our one bedroom flat grows up.

(i kid, chandeliers aren't part of our design aesthetic!)