A charming Seville tradition

I must look suspicious as I walk around, glancing intently at doors, looking at signs I can't read, stopping to look at my phone, circling again. It's hard to know if I should knock, press the buzzer, if the door is open and I should just let myself in or if it was open, the door would be open. I check my watch again, it's definitely the right time. I give up and head to the next one. I try 4 different locations that day and have success only at one.

There, thankfully, the door is wide open and there is a clear sign above it not requiring any of my non-existent Spanish skills to translate. But that’s all the help I get. I enter a very unassuming courtyard and have no idea where to go next.

Terrified of wandering where I shouldn’t be, I slowly look around looking for clues. At the back of this courtyard is a dark alcove which, eliminating all other options, I slowly walk towards, eventually spying a dumb waiter. I exhale, happy to finally be in the right spot.

Again, thoughtfully, I have been provided with English notices. I scroll through the options, check the Spanish equivalent, make up my mind and ring the buzzer. A voice floats to me from beyond the wall, saying something in Spanish that I can't understand. But I don’t need to really. With my awful Spanish pronunciation, I ask for what I've come for and wait. There is a rustling from the other side and slowly the dumb waiter turns to reveal the packages. I place the payment in the dumb waiter and it turns again.

A huge smile plays on my lips. Success! For some reason I feel exhilarated.

To be honest, I've never felt like that buying cinnamon and chocolate shortbread biscuits before. But these biscuits are hand-made by the convents cloistered nuns. Between that and the whole honest and simple transaction, it makes them that little bit more special. It's such a charming tradition in Seville, that, if you know where to look and are there are the right time, you might be lucky enough to experience it for yourself. But I can help you there.

The best way to find the Real Monasterio De Santa Ines on Google is to locate Calle Doña María Coronel, 16, 41003 Sevilla, Spain, the entrance will be directly across the road.

Apparently there are other are convents where the nuns sell cakes, pastries biscuits etc, to support their living, but this convent was the only one I had any luck with. The opening hours of the Convent De Santa Ines are 9am-1pm and 4pm-6.30pm except Sundays and public holidays. Do stop by if you are ever in Seville.

What charming traditions have you come across?

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Dusk in Wroclaw's old town

The lamps outside the cathedral are lit. I look around the cobblestone streets in the oldest part of Wroclaw hoping to catch a glimpse. Behind me, the lamps remain dark. Where could he be? I assume it's a 'he' but it might be a 'she' too. Regardless, I'll know I've found him/her by the cape and torch.

Cathedral of St. John the Baptist

Should I try one of the unlit side streets and see if I can catch him coming my way? Or maybe the lit ones, and try to catch up? I take an unlit one not knowing where it goes, just hoping it will allow me to cross paths with the lamplighter.

Tumski bridge and the Church of Our Lady on the Sand

The streets are quiet, only a few people are about as the dusk settles on the town. Maybe they are on their way home, or heading for a bit of peace and introspection at the local church service or, maybe, like me, they are hoping to catch a glimpse of a time gone by and spot the lamplighter too.

Collegiate Church of the Holy Cross and St Bartholomew with the Monument of St. John of Nepomuk

My sneakered feet are silent on the cobblestones as I turn a corner and catch sight of him. He has just lit another lamp and, in a brisk pace, heads off to light the next. I walk/run to get closer so I don't have to use the zoom on my camera. Its just us on the street and for a moment, just a fleeting moment, I feel as though I've slipped through time. Then I notice he is on his mobile and the illusion is shattered.

Oh the irony. As a friend of mine said though, it just goes to show the contrasts between the world as we live in today and how things used to be. But I'll add to that and say that there is no reason we cant have the beauty of a timeless tradition like lamp-lighting and the modern world.

I'm sure Wroclaw could convert all the gas lamps so they will turn on automatically at dusk and off at dawn if they wanted to. But they CHOSE to keep the tradition in the old town, billowing black cape and all. Maybe its a tourist stunt. But i cant find it mentioned on the Wroclaw tourism website. And even if it is, I don't care, why not have a lamplighter? I wish they existed in London (I know about the British Gas ones but that's not quite the same thing).

The next day at dusk I found my feet had taken me back to the same streets, and I come across another lamplighter while wandering, this one sans modern contraption. It was perfect.

What do you think of keeping the lamp-lighting tradition? Do you know of any other places that do it?

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Lost in Translation #Travel Linkup

My first ever experience of foreign languages was Japanese in high school. It was also my first embarrassing experience of something getting lost in translation...or pronunciation.

Our school was playing host to Japanese exchange students and we were all crammed into the teachers lounge meeting and getting to know each other, the girls on one side, boys on the other, as you do in awkward teen years, when one of the girls asked me if I liked guys "with led back". I didn't quite get that, but after she repeated herself a couple of times, I was like "Ohhhh! Guys who are laid back!" to which she nodded, yeah. It was a bit of an odd question but I said sure, I liked guys who are laid back. I swear her face lit up and she gave me the biggest smile before running off to another student...a tall Japanese boy with a red bag....

Since moving to London, Ive come across a few words which can cause a bit of confusion. The most common one you're likely to hear about is 'pants'. Pants in the UK mean underpants/knickers/panties whatever you want to call em. In Australia they mean trousers. Ive lost count of the number of times I've said 'pants' meaning trousers and gotten funny looks from people here.

Then there is the less common 'pull'. A friend of mine was chatting with a colleague at work and asked him if he pulled a girl. I was shocked! I was thinking 'How rude! Why would he pull a girl? That's not very nice!' Before I jumped in on my high horse to say just how rude and disrespectful he was and that women should not be manhandled, my friend saw the look on my face and quickly explained that 'pulling' meant chatting up a girl. Thankfully she had the grace to laugh at me only for the rest of the afternoon.

As an Aussie, I have been in the position of confusing others too. Bludger, dag, mozzie, Maccas and arvo just to name a few. Can you guess what they are?

When travelling, I'm always amused to see how English is used and it can provide a few giggles. Japan has been the oddest, all the above photos are from there, but I did spot an interesting store name in Brussels recently.

Do you have your own "Lost in translation" story to tell? I'm so excited to be guest hosting this months blog link up with lovely Kiwi trio Emma, Kelly and Rebecca. Why not join in and have a laugh? Details below!

An InLinkz Link-up

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Best Meal While Travelling - Travel linkup

So many yummy dishes, so little time! I have eaten my way through some places but the one place that really takes the cake in every regard, flavour, presentation, price, ambiance and service, is Japan. I did not a have a single bad or below par dish. So what is the most memorable? Funnily enough it had nothing to do with the food at all.

Dishes from a Kaiseki dinner - see the little green bird?

I was in the Akihabara district in Tokyo, Japan with my friend trying to find a place for dinner. We came across a wooden shopfront that looked like it was transported from rural Japan and looked busy, warm and welcoming. We stepped inside.

Tempura nettle leaves and soba noodles

A sweet waitress greeted us and apologised saying they had no tables then, as a second thought, asked if we'd mind sitting at the back. I had no problems with that, the smell of food was intoxicating and I wasn't going anywhere.

Okonomiyak - a type of savoury pancake

It turns out that the 'tables' at the back were sunken tatami mat seating. I think maybe she thought foreigners preferred tables, but not me, this was exactly what i wanted :) I clambered into my seat, ordered a bunch of food and then sat back to take in my surroundings.

Vegitarian Bento Box

The walls were covered in traditional Japanese murals, and the entire space was filled with 'Salarymen' (office workers) getting drunk and creating a ruckus. Some were passed out, their heads resting on the tables, some were getting more drinks, some were slurring lines to the karaoke playing on one screen and others were watching some sports game on another.

Did i mention dessert? They tasted so good!

They would call to each other from across the room, faces red, swaying slightly before getting distracted with another drink. All of them were in almost identical suits, jackets off and tossed aside with their bags in a heap, ties loose, shirts rumpled. It was hilarious and fascinating to watch. I'd heard about this work tradition but seeing it was entirely different.

Crab miso soup and clam rice

I don't remember the food. I think there was a fish and some sushi and I'm sure it tasted great but my attention was on these guys. It was really brilliant. Id never seen anything like it and haven't seen anything like it again.

Clam miso soup and chicken teriyaki with rice

Since I was so distracted I didn't take any photos of the meal. Instead, here are some photos from other meals I had around Japan which were all absolutely delicious. And now I'm craving Japanese...

What was your memorable meal while travelling?

As always thanks to the lovely girls Emma and Kelly and Rebecca for this travel link up.

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Most memorable nights sleep while travelling (Travel Link Up)

Being a travel addict and ex-flight attendant means that I have been through my share of places. Some beautiful, some charming, some ugly and some just downright plain and forgettable. The memorable for me are those that have a story, good or bad, something that stands out.

Thanks to the lovely girls Emma and Kelly and Rebecca for this travel link up.

My most memorable was a night in Athens (I surprised even myself with that one). The hotel was nice and the bed was comfortable enough but that had nothing to do with why it was memorable. It was the earthquake. I slept through it. Sort of.

I was slightly woken up in the middle of the night to what, to me, sounded like a massive truck rumbling along as it sped through the street. It was so loud it felt like the walls were shaking. In my half sleep half dream stupor I didn't think more of it and drifted off back to sleep. When all that noise was followed with a loud bang and what felt like the bed shifting off the wall and slam back into it, I simply thought I was dreaming.

In the cold light of day the next morning, I began to wonder...did I really dream all that? The girl at reception told me that Athens had an earthquake that night and it was one of their bigger ones. There wasn't any major damage as they are prepared for such things but I was shocked. I SLEPT through a big earthquake!! I thanked my lucky stars that it wasn't more serious and at the same time laughed at how, for a light sleeper, I'd managed to sleep through it. Oops.

My favourite sleep was in Santorini where I was waking up to the gorgeous blue and white every morning on my own terrace. My worst sleep was in Naples during my trip through Italy. Seriously, I wanted to sleep on the floor the bed was that uncomfortable. I also really enjoyed staying Freising, Munich. The hotel was cute, comfortable and an easy walk to the village which was off the regular touristy path.

I also had a minor incident with an inconsiderate girl at a hostel when I first arrived in London who insisted on waking up the entire room while drying her hair every morning but I'll save that story for another day.


What was you most memorable sleep while travelling?

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6 Highlights of Boston, Massachusetts

Before heading to New York, meeting Lady Liberty, enjoying the birds-eye view from the Empire State and Top of the Rock and chilling out in Central Park, I headed to Boston. My friend, a local Bostonian - minus the accent thanks to a Canadian dad - was going to show me around. Aside from the incident with the plane, I really enjoyed Boston, more than I expected.

Boston Library

Trinity Church

So here are some places to visit if you ever find yourself in Boston, in no particular order.

1 - Boston Waterfront
Its lovely and reminded me a little of Sydney Harbour. There is no Opera house or Harbour Bridge but the shape of it with the skyscrapers were similar enough to make me a teensy bit homesick.

Boston Waterfront

Charles River

2 - Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market
When in Quincy Market make sure you try the local speciality, clam chowder. Any one of the shops will be good (it wouldnt survive if it was bad) but its always best to go to one that has a lot of people ordering the dish. My friend  thinks the markets look a bit like Covent Garden in London and I can see why he thinks that, its a old stone market hall surrounded by paved open space. If you are a popcorn lover lover like me, take note, i bought the most delicious bag of popcorn from a stall out front...I was eating from it for days and it was still good!

Candy apples at Quincy Market

Clam chowder from Quincy Market

3 - Harvard University
You can take the metro directly to Harvard University from the centre of Boston. The university does run free tours led by students, but, unfortunately I didn't manage to go on one. They do have self guided tours or if you prefer, just wander around. During the day the gates are usually open and you can usually access the common grounds. Even away from the actual campus, the area around Harvard square has a nice vibe, is full of cafes, restaurants and ice-cream shops (try J.P Licks, such an awesome name for an ice cream shop don't you think?)

Houses around Davis square

4 - Freedom Trail
I confess I didn't do this, I saw parts of it like Paul Reveres House and Park Street Church, but I wish I had done more of the trail. The Freedom trail takes you around some of the most historic and key sites of the American Revolution. Even if you are not interested in American history, if you have seen National Treasure, you'll see the sites of some of the places they refer to in it.

Park Street Church

Paul Reveres House

5 - The North End
North End is full of restaurants, cafes, coffee and pastry shops. If your looking for a nice place for dinner, you cant go wrong here, they are really pricey but my local guide says you'd be hard pressed to get sub-par food or service. If your up for something lighter, try Mike's Pastry, it has all kinds of sweets and I can totally vouch for the custard puffs. Mmmm...custard puff...

Mike's Pastry cake counter

Mike's Pastry custard puff

6 - Top of the Hub
For a breathtaking view over Boston and an elegant dinner or lunch then make your way to Top of the Hub. I went for dinner and each dish was delicious. If you already have dinner plans elsewhere, you can just go for a drink and to listen to the live jazz. The restaurant is in the Prudential tower which is the highest in Boston and watching the twinkling lights over dinner or a drink makes for a very romantic evening.

View of Boston at night from Top of the Hub

I hope you find something that appeals in this list. Boston is only 4.5-5 hours by coach from New York and about an hours flight from JFK airport.

A special thanks to my friend and local guide for showing me around his home city. I had a great time :)

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Embarrassing Moments - Boston, MA

Ever been in those situations where the world was spiralling out of your control and you feel totally and utterly helpless? Did you ever feel like you just wanted to disappear and never have to endure a particularly embarrassing moment? You’re not alone. Grab some popcorn (its a long post but worth the read) and enjoy my hopelessly mortifying moment.

On my recent trip to Boston, my friend planned a day that was designed to make an impression. And it did, just not in the way he'd hoped. He wanted it to be a surprise, all hush-hush and very cloak and daggery and cryptic. I was happy to play along. At one point a couple of clues escaped and I was so smug, I thought I knew exactly what the surprise was....oooh boy was I wrong!! The two clues? "Flight" and "Airport". I assumed my friend (who is one exam short of a pilot licence) was going to take me for a flight over Boston. If only...

We rocked up to a small airport and as we walking though one of the buildings my friend revealed that he had booked me in for an introductory flying lesson!!! His flourish and excitement about planning something I didn’t figure out was only matched by my utter astonishment and panic. I did not want to get behind the controls of an aircraft, I harboured no such desire, ever! What was he thinking?!! Yes I was a flight attendant and I do enjoy being on a plane, yes I skydived but being behind the "wheel" was a whole different kettle of fish! *queue panic attack*

I was not happy. I could feel the colour drain from my face and nerves set in but there was no way I could back out. I met the instructor and he was good, reassuring and very understanding...it didn’t stop my stomach from doing the Highland fling the whole time though.

Intro, safety and run through completed, we headed out to the plane. At that point my instructor asked me, "Do you get motion sickness?". And I don’t, not usually, but I wasn’t taking chances and popped a motion sickness tablet into my mouth. Checking the plane, instructions and other information took about 15- 20 minutes and then we were ready to taxi and take off. Did I feel calmer? Heck no. Knowing the instructor could take over in seconds if a royally screwed this up didn’t really ease matters in my mind. I gritted my teeth, listened to every word he said and tried my absolute damnedest to follow them to the letter.

Taxiing on a runway is not easy. You don’t use the controls in front of you; you use the pedals at your feet, and for an unco (uncoordinated) person like me, to make it worse, to go left your push down on the RIGHT pedal and to go right, you push down on the LEFT pedal*. God knows how I managed, I must have been zigzagging all over the place!

*Update 05 Dec 2013: My friend has since told me that the pedals are actually left for left and right for right and that i might have been using the breaks at the top of the pedals for steering, which do appear to work as i have described...i dont remember it that way (obviously) but he is the expert out of the two of us.

So, so far so good, i was still nervous and my emotions felt like they wanted to tear out of me like bats out of hell but I'd managed. No crash, no disaster, catastrophe or embarrassment and only a mental note to kill my friend later. My instructor radioed for clearance to take off and then guided me through take off. Surprisingly it was the easiest part of the whole thing - probably because he handled all the technical adjustments. Before I knew it we were soaring into the open skies. Looking back on it, I’m quite proud of all that, and that moment, being up in the sky and looking down, being behind the controls, it was pretty cool. At the time though, I was too caught up in not screwing up to really take it in for more than a second.

Reaching cruising altitude we noticed that it was slightly bumpy. Normally I don’t mind, but you really do notice the slightest bump in a small light aircraft and I constantly had to adjust to keep the plane level. We'd been in the air for about 10 minutes or less and my instructor thought it a good exercise to show me how to turn. He demonstrated a left and right turn for me before allowing me to try on my own. Halfway through my second turn I began to feel warm....

There was the heat, the heat that seems to come from nowhere and makes you crave a cooling breeze. The heat that causes you to feel slightly light-headed and breathless. I asked my instructor to take the controls for a minute. Usually all I need to do is get some fresh air, close my eyes and take some deep breaths. I put up my hair, adjusted the vents and tried to quell the rising queasiness. It didn’t seem to work. My friend handed me a sick bag from the back - just in case. The last thing I wanted was to be sick but it would be worse if I was and it went everywhere, so I took it. At this point I suggested we should probably head back, it didn’t look like I was going to improve. I'd also noticed that my legs and knees were numb and my fingertips were getting tingly. Last time that happened id been dehydrated so I asked for my bottle of water. I took a sip and felt it cool me on the inside. Id barely put the cap back on the bottle before I was hurling into the plastic bag and feeling chunks of my morning’s breakfast evacuate my stomach. My body instantly went from warm to cold, clammy and shaky and funnily enough I felt better. But it didn’t stop there...I was sick again in seconds.

All three of us were mortified. For the instructor, I was the second person to be sick with him that day. For my friend, he thought he was doing something nice (and he was) but it had left me sick and miserable. For me, I wanted to die, I was embarrassed, and wanted to dissolve into thin air. I have flown as a job daily. I have dealt with turbulence as though it were nothing more than a fun park ride or a gentle rocking to sleep. I have seen people be sick but was never sick myself. So what the hell happened?

My instructor took us back down and I was never more grateful to be on solid ground again - even if I could barely stand. I was so faint I had to hold on to the plane for support while they did their final checks.

Now here’s the thing...do you think it could get worse? Probably not right? Wrong! It turned out that after the lesson my friend and his family were flying us out to Nantucket (a small island about 30-45mins flight away) to have dinner at a really nice restaurant by the water. My friend’s father took one look at me and said "I’m guessing you probably don’t want to get on another plane right now do you?". So that’s two for two. I felt awful, so much planning and excitement and it all went kaput. Flying lesson gone wrong, very thoughtful dinner plans cancelled, and what should have been an amazing day gone horribly wrong.

Could there possibly be a bright side? Yes. It still was an amazing experience, it showed me how blessed I am to have such a friend and, once id gotten past the mortification, it gave me a very funny story to tell! I hope you enjoyed it!

Whats your mortifying story? Ever had plans go wrong? Leave me a comment or drop me an email, it would make me feel so much better!

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Meeting a stubborn Donkey in Santorini

If you have read my previous post, you’ll know that there was a bit of a funny story to go with the donkey ride up to Fira from the Old Port in Santorini...

I’d woken up to another gorgeous day in Santorini, the air was warm, the sky was a cloudless blue and I felt well and truly relaxed, so much so that I’d forgotten what day it was. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened! I slipped into a summer dress and decided to keep the day simple. I would just meander and see where that took me. My wanderings led me to the donkey station at the base of the Old Port in Fira. I did not want to climb the stairs back up to Fira, in sandals, whilst trying to avoid donkey-doo the whole way, plus, I was amused by the novelty of it.

I was standing in line at the "Donkey Station"*, watching some other girls helped up on to their rides and waiting for my own colourful donkey when I realised that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t the best idea to get on a donkey wearing a short dress, in fact I couldn’t think of a lady-like way of getting on without exposing more leg than I cared to expose. Too late to back out I was helped up and before I could get a grip, my donkey set off after the other girls. A wriggle or two and a couple of yanks on the hem of my skirt and I was OK.

My donkey seemed to know his way just like the others that had gone ahead and was taking a leisurely stroll up the path when suddenly, just around the first bend, he stopped. Ah…donkey what are you doing? I tried coaxing him to keep moving “Come on, let’s go” I said patting him on the side of the neck. Know what he did? He shook his head at me, literally. “Come on” I said and tried flicking the reigns a bit; I just got more head shaking. What was the word for “Go” in Greek again? Damn my useless language skills. I tried a slight squeeze of his belly (I didn’t want to use any force) but it resulted in the same head shake. Uh- oh…

I looked around to see if there was a donkey handler or someone who could help nearby. There was not a single soul in sight…just great. I have heard that donkeys can be seriously stubborn creatures and mine was living up to that reputation. I looked down thinking maybe I could get off and walk back but right where I'd need to step was covered in greenish brown donkey-doo. At that point I had to laugh out loud. Great. Perfect. Maybe I’ll just stay on the donkey forever. At least he came with a sea view.

As I sat there, partly thinking about how to get out of my predicament and partly hoping he’d move along on his own, I spotted a couple ahead. As they got closer I could see they were chuckling. “Um, hi, I’m a bit stuck, would you mind telling the handlers at the bottom?” I said my face flushing the same colour as my dress. The girl agreed, stepped over some patties and continued down the path. As if my donkey knew he’d soon be in trouble, he started walking again! I was over the moon! Great! Brilliant…oh bugger! He stopped again after only going about 20 meters. He was toying with me. I could almost see a cheeky grin on his face.

Luckily only a few minutes passed before I saw a line of donkeys coming up the path along with a handler. Finally! I could have kissed the handlers whiskery cheek I was so glad to see him! But my donkey had other plans. His ears swivelled back and some sound let him know the handler and a drove of donkeys were behind him and he started moving again. When we turned the corner I saw the girls who had left way ahead of me waiting up ahead. I realised that the donkey was simply waiting for the rest of the herd to show up and not just being stubborn. Boy did I feel sheepish.

The donkey was now more than happy to clip along and energetically try to overtake those in front of us. Who cares if he had to terrify his rider in the process? Who cares if he went so close to the wall when turning corners that I was in perpetual expectation of him walking right into them or scraping my knee? Not my donkey that’s for sure!

We continued up the path and aside from him almost knocking another girl off her donkey he didn’t stop once. All the donkeys had a unique way of zigzagging up the path that prevented them from slipping backwards. It actually took a lot longer to get to the top than I thought so there was plenty of time to take in the view. By the time we reached the top I was glad I rode up instead of walking and gave my smart, stubborn donkey an affectionate pat before heading into the maze of Fira streets.

*Please note: These donkeys are looked after by two animal welfare agencies GAWF and SAWA. They are fed, watered, sheltered undergo regular health checks and are well looked after. No injured or sick donkey is allowed to work and they only make a 2-3 round trips a day. I do not like seeing animals mistreated and would not have done this had i thought they were.

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