I’ve lost my hairband and don’t know where to find it

On May 15, 2015February 25, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Travel/vacationsLeave a comment

“Anyone seen my hairband?” I asked the assembled poolside crew.
“What does it look like – is it green and pink?” Betty asked.
“No, navy and cream – kind of spotted.”
“It’s probably at the bottom of the pool” said Geraint, “That’s where my silver headband is – here you can borrow one of mine if you need it, I’ve got four.”

I took the gold shiny hairpiece faster than you could say ‘Harry Styles’ and applied it. “May I see the other ones?’ I said.
“Well, they’re up in my room at the moment, I don’t take them to the pool” Geraint replied, smiling.

A scorchio 30 degree morning, seering blue skies above, a gentle breeze and three days into a Club Med holiday, the mood was lite and frivolous to say nothing of giggly.

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The Integratron

On March 13, 2015February 25, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Travel/vacationsLeave a comment

Breakfast: Just the gentle rustle of the Los Angeles Times, the sight of Chester and Lily snoozing in their respective dog baskets and a brilliant blue sky framing the palm trees outside.

I took a sip of tea and placed my new favourite super sized mug down on the table. “You know I can’t for the life of me remember what we did on Thursday” I said to no one in particular. Han glanced up from the Calendar section as Eric exclaimed: “The Integratron! How could you forget?!”

Indeed how could I. We’d driven miles out into deepest Mojave desert, through one horse towns on a Spring So Cal day with the temperature hitting around 28 degrees. Parking up amongst our fellow ‘time travellers’ we wandered into a cute garden. Hammocks, delicate trees just coming into flower, a font type structure on top of which lay various sized stones, and other paraphernalia prettily decorated a stoney dusty fenced-off area.

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Destinations

On September 26, 2014March 30, 2015 By Conversations with StrangersIn Life, Travel/vacationsLeave a comment

Terminal Two, Heathrow: Only a couple of months old and a welcome change from the old one. I made my way up to departures on a very tall escalator underneath Richard’s Wilson’s huge aluminium sculpture: ‘Slipstream’. ‘Rooted in its location….it is a metaphor for travel’ he says of this work. I left it at the top of the stairs, wondering how much it had cost, and made my way into a temple to rampant luxury consumerism.

Glossy shops were surrounded by floor to ceiling videos of glamorous models living in a rarefied world of limousines with blacked out windows, descending regal staircases, and haughtily running away from gorgeous looking men.

Dublin bound for a party, the ridiculousness rubbed off on me and I headed into the Ladies’ to airbrush my face.

Ten minutes after our airplane had cut through the clouds the cabin lights were still dimmed. I struggled to read the in-flight magazine. Unable to resist, I turned to the man next to me: “Ever feel like you’re being kept in the dark?” I asked and then laughed uproariously at my own joke. He chuckled. “Yeah, it’s a bit like the night flight to New York. Here, let me turn on the light for you” he replied.

Drinks were offered and I procured a coffee something akin to rocket fuel. I opened the sachet of milk and in doing so squirted the contents all over my helpful neighbour. “I’m so sorry!” I cried, offering him my serviette. “You’re alright” he said, “Oh, but thanks all the same.”

I opened the ‘Feel Better Freshener’ and unfolded it right out to get the full benefit.

The Captain’s voice came over the tannoy. “Fasten your seat belts please, Ladies and Gentlemen, we’re starting our descent.” “You’re kidding!” I said to no one in particular. “We’ve only just taken off!” A steward heard me: “He’s our fastest pilot. He’s rushing home – it is Saturday night after all!”

One day later and I was pleasingly back on a bike, cycling alongside a lush and green Grand Canal in Dublin with my friend H, keen to find a cafe.

We tethered our respective rides outside Bibi’s in Portobello and took 20 minutes out of a busy day to catch up for the first time in ages.

I was glad we didn’t have to move for a while. Although only a short break with an old friend, it felt like I’d reached a destination at last.

Love at The Sands

On September 11, 2014December 4, 2014 By Conversations with StrangersIn Travel/vacations1 Comment

The walk from the train station at Margate was inauspicious. Darkness had descended as I asked for directions to my hotel. “Just past that block of flats, and follow the road round to the left onto The Parade” the station guard told me.

The Sands Hotel glowed, like a beacon of hope on the seafront. I entered to crystal chandeliers and cosy minimalism: A comforting world with ‘family business’ written all over it, such was the familiarity and warmth with which I was greeted.

Over supper, I rang the best ‘man’ for the following day’s nuptials.

“B, please thank Tel for recommending this place – it’s lovely and the music selection is truly eclectic – we’ve got some Mazzy Star at the moment!”

I heard Tel in the background: ’She won’t want to leave the hotel!”

“Well, I’ll have to tomorrow. Besides the wedding, I’m sure there’s a lot to see here – like the art gallery, the ‘Lanes’, the sea!”

A very ‘rock ’n roll’ Camomile tea at the bar before bed led to a conversation with Victoria and Justin.

“Back in the 70’s Margate was all bright lights along the seafront – like the Vegas strip – it was fabulous! My grandmother lived here and I used to come and visit.”Justin told me. “We’ve just bought a place close by – a six bedroomed Georgian house for a great price. We aim at commuting into London – so fast now with the high-speed train.”

That night I slept on a silk pocket sprung mattress cocooned in a ‘Jasmine silk’ duvet with the sleekest Eygptian cotton sheets, all of which made it very difficult to rise in the morning. Hunger forced the issue.

I sat outside for breakfast on the restaurant terrace, a fresh but warm hazy sea air softly caressing my face.

“When they bought the building the plan was to turn it into luxury flats, but the owner found out it had been a hotel at the end of the 19th century and decided to completely restore it” the waitress answered as I enquired about this snug but chic hostelry.

Couples, families and singletons surrounded me tucking in to Eggs Benedict, smoked kippers and other delicacies.

The papers lay on the table to be read. The beach – seaweed strewn – beckoned for a walk. Art to be savoured was two minutes walk away. I picked up my coffee cup. Perhaps I’d just head back to my room first: The bath tub had looked so inviting.

Time

On September 1, 2014December 4, 2014 By Conversations with StrangersIn Food and drinks, Travel/vacationsLeave a comment

It goes by so fast. ‘The only way you can slow it down is to travel’ a friend of mine used to say.

The Northern Belle pulled into the station. Heads and hands of the steward and his crew poked out of the windows cheerily waving and wishing us ‘Good Morning!’ Like a scene from a movie, or something that sits in the recesses of your mind – so familiar but you’ve never actually seen it in the flesh.

A red carpet paved the way to our sumptuously upholstered carriage. Plush seats took the weight off our legs as we settled in for the duration admiring the decor of this lovely old 1930’s Pullman train.

A pear bellini at 9am reminded us that we were on a ‘special’ train journey – one that would take us to Lake Windermere with some fine dining on the side.

The morning wore on as we all got to know each other in advance of E’s imminent wedding. The champagne flowed with the chat becoming more hilarious so that by the time we boarded the coach to The Lakes we were in flying form.

We journeyed further into the pine woods surrounding Windemere as our ‘compere’ gave us a running commentary: “If you want to spend a penny in Bowness, it’ll cost you 40p. If you can wait until Lakeside it’s 20p. Better still if you can ‘ang on ’til you get back to train – it’s free!”

Silence reigned on the coach. I tried to nod off but it was impossible. “‘On left ‘ere you ‘ave one of the largest garden centres in Cumbria”. E glanced at me quizzically. “What about The Lakes, E? Do you think we’re going to hear how they were formed?” “I’m not sure, S” he replied, closing his eyes.

We heard how someone in the Beatrix Potter Museum had been a ‘treasurer’ but we weren’t sure what of, or if indeed those skills had been transferred to his new role: ’Showing people Beatrix Potter’s little animals.’

The boat cruise was a highlight – wind and sun on our faces as we stood at the bow taking in grand skies, green islands and small yachts winging their way across the water gaily.

Dinner back on the train cemented a harmonious jolly day with confidences exchanged and personalities shared in a way only real time spent together allows.