Day 24 - Lincolnshire, including Skeggy! - May 24th

An excellent sleep – my coughing has faded as we distance ourselves from the smokers.  Having stayed here before, it was interesting to compare rooms – but I’ll leave that to the Tripadvisor report.

Another good English buffet breakfast and with freshly poached eggs to order again. Amazing how many places serve eggs the way THEY want rather than the way WE want so to get the option was much appreciated.  We had a chat to the lady on the next table who was from Australia.

Today, we were heading back to Nottingham and left the hotel at 10am heading to Boston.  The last time I was there was about 30 years ago but the town had been spruced up, as have several others, with dedicated pedestrian areas.  We wandered around, mainly just to stretch our legs, and noted that almost 1 in 2 people we heard talking were Polish.  We did call into the cathedral and as is common in the UK, quite an impressive building.

We then headed for Skegness.  Now for those not well acquainted with the UK geography or reputation, Skeggy is probably the nearest seaside resort to the Midlands and East Midlands, so in days past, when most Brits were confined to public transport and before the cheap airlines dominated the holiday scene,  Skeggy was the annual pilgrimage for many, many blue collar workers and their families.  That includes the car workers of Birmingham, the miners from Nottinghamshire when the last week in July and first week of August was known as either factory week, or pit week. Skegness’ catch phrase is “Skegness is so bracing”, a thinly disguised reference to the howling and chilly winds that come in off the North Sea.  This means that like Blackpool on the west coast, it has always had to offer an alternative to sunbathing, though the sands stretch for ever are ideal for beach cricket or football.   When the tide goes out, it really goes out and visitors often opt for catching a Dukw to get to the water’s edge!  Monaco it is not.

The entertainment on shore is the usual neon lit cacophony of bingo parlours, slot machines and when in season, funfairs.

We arrived just before the season really started, so many attractions (sic) were closed but there were still a fair few people around enjoying the sun - once the sea mist had lifted.

We parked in McDonalds and therefore treated ourselves to a snack in return for 90 minutes free parking.  A healthy grilled chicken wrap for Paula (she gave it top marks) and a burger for me.  With a while before our free parking expired, we headed for the central beach area.  The photographs may tell the real story...  As we walked back, I was somehow magnetically attracted to the “Fish, Chips and Mushy Peas for £4.50” sign, with a notice on the stall itself that also stated ”We do not insult our customers by serving frozen fish!”  (In NZ, I wish they would state that the fish has only been fried the once, but that is a different story.)

Needless to say, my nose was twitching and a quick look at what others were eating convinced me to give it ago, but having already had a burger, I opted to do without the chips.  (I am not greedy.)  Now I have had many, many pieces of battered fish over the years and it would be fair to say that the quality is somewhat variable.  As for mushy peas, they can be OK or a total disaster. (To Paula, they are all a total disaster...) If I had to rate this portion, it would be 11 out of 10.  The most perfectly cooked piece of extremely fresh fish on a bed of perfectly cooked mushy peas, I think I have ever had.

Suitably full and extremely happy, (well I was) we then headed back towards Nottingham, as the afternoon temperature rose to a very warm 27 degrees.  We stopped briefly at a farmers’ market type of establishment on the outskirts of Newark for a drink, and for the second time within a couple of hours, I managed to knock something else off my food hit list – a drink of Dandelion & Burdock.  For the Brits, this may not be too much of a problem to identify, but I do know that the Kiwis, Australians and Americans reading this may be somewhat puzzled.  Suffice to say it is a soft drink that has a slight taste of liquorice.  Reliving my youth.

The smile on my face for the rest of the day told its own story.  Thankfully, Sue had a light meal for us of cold chicken and salad as I was still rather full.   

Day 23 - Norfolk - May 23rd

A good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast set us up well for the day and we set off about 10am. We had a leisurely drive east along the Norfolk coast.  Traffic moved, but at a leisurely pace so we conformed as we were in no rush, often happily at about 40mph.   I know some of you may find that hard to believe, but there we are.  The temperature, from a starting point of about 12 degrees, gradually crept up to  a very respectable 25.

First stop was at the steam railway at Sheringham, where there was a small market in the car park. The railway appears to be very popular judging by the number of people around.  Second stop was just a few yards down the road for our first refuel after about 400 miles, in the 1200cc Vauxhall Corsa.  It took just 40 litres to fill before carrying on towards Cromer.   Just before Cromer we detoured to the beach road at West Runton, where many years ago, we had a family picture taken whilst Dave and I were at scout camp nearby.

After Cromer, we headed for a large transport museum at Caister Castle, or rather, at the ruins of Caister Castle.  This is reputed to be one of the largest private collections in the country.  Unfortunately, once inside, you are not allowed to take photographs, which is a great shame as there were some fascinating exhibits, ranging from several USA built steam cars (including a Stanley Steamer) to a rare, complete and almost derelict, F1 H16 BRM, complete with spare engine and a F1 Lotus.  Most of the other exhibits were road vehicles of two and four wheels but also a collection of pedal cars, horse drawn carriages and even prams!

We then headed towards Gt. Yarmouth, but apart from an ice cream and a pic of the sandy beach, we didn’t stop, but headed back to the Best Western at Kings Lynn.  Another nice room but not  a patch on the suite last night!  Once again we ate on site.  Large portions!

Bed at a respectable 10:30 and tomorrow, Lincolnshire calls.  Another very flat fenland county.   

   

Day 22 - Norfolk - May 22nd

We generally go down to the Norfolk/Cambridge area on our UK visits, to see an old school friend of Paula’s and an ex work colleague of mine and we did the same this time.  The sun came out and stayed out, which really caught Geoff on the hop, as he had prepared a wonderful, warming winter stew!  Delicious and very filling.

Onwards to see the current Mayor of Downham Market.  Who would have thought that when we first met as Prison Officers way back in May 1967 (gulp, 45 years ago!) that not only would we still be friends, but that he’d be the mayor of a Norfolk country town and I’d be living on the opposite side of the world!

We then headed up the road to Kings Lynn using the TomTom to find the Best Western I’d stayed at in 2009.  We found it OK, but it was full!  We booked for tomorrow and the friendly staff booked us into the Best Western up the road at Hunstanton – but there was only a suite left there.  A bit of haggling brought the price down so we accepted!

The “Le Strange Arms” hotel is excellent and our suite is right over the main entrance and overlooks the sea. Most impressive.  A couple of minutes to the east of the town and blissfully quiet.

We ate at the attached bistro/eatery and both opted for that most traditional of all English dishes – Chicken Tikka curry.

After a walk along the sandy beach, we relaxed in our own lounge, had a cuppa and a fresh biscuit as supplied, then retired to our king sized bed with a TV above the foot of it.

A nice warm day, great to catch up with friends and a luxury room.  Tomorrow, we head out further along the east coast towards Gt. Yarmouth.     

Days 18 - 21 - Nottingham!

Ironically, given the travel we have done, one of our favourites locally is the Morrison’s supermarket, but not just for the shopping, but for their cafeteria.  Having put up with a continental breakfast for a couple of weeks, it was time for a real cooked breakfast - £4.45 (about $9.00 NZ) with egg, bacon, sausage, tomatoes, beans and hash browns. Delicious!  People still deride the English for their food, but when it comes to breakfast, they take some beating.

My hit list for this trip local food-wise is:

1)      Genuine local pork pies

2)      Fresh battered fish and mushy peas

3)      Cider

4)      Dandelion and burdock (soft drink)

5)      Red cherry yoghurt

6)      Eccles cakes

7)      Curry

8)      Clotted cream

By the time we’d left the supermarket, I was already clutching a pack of mini pork pies, so 1 down, 7 to go.
We had accepted an invitation to babysit Noah for the afternoon, so day one (Friday) was a family day and the temperature was decidedly cool at about 6 degrees but it was bright and sunny. Noah was as good as gold and had no problem adapting to his ‘new’ babysitters.  We went on to Dave and Sue’s and Noah was happy enough with great uncle Dave feeding him.  As a real Green, Noah is happy enough as long as someone feeds him - and feeds him plenty.

For some strange reason, the second night was one that the family won’t let me forget in a hurry, as I woke the household screaming during  a nasty nightmare!!!

Night 3 was much better – much to the relief of the rest of the household, but still coughing.

Dave and Sue had booked us into a 3 course Sunday lunch carvery at 2:15pm and I over ate! To be fair, I was doing OK, but the caramel apple pie came with about a quarter pint of cream – and I couldn’t leave it now, could I?

We called round on Manu & Stewart as it was Manu’s birthday the day before.  Noah was full on as he had his mate Rico to play with.

Monday and another coughing disturbed night and a lazy day, but tomorrow, we head off for a couple of days to visit friends and do a bit of touring.

Day 17 - Paris to Nottingham - May 17th

Up and about before the alarm and a very light breakfast of juice, yoghurt and coffee. The coach arrived 8:30 and only then did we find out it was a public holiday, as the traffic was very light for the short journey to the railway station and the Eurostar to London.

We hung around for a while at the station, watching the rather dubious characters hanging around outside.  We knew that this was one of the worst places of the whole trip for pickpockets and muggers and so were all extra careful.

Our train wasn’t until 11:15, though we were there early enough for the 10:15, which was very frustrating, as we had planned on a 10:30 train, as per our itinerary and it appears that the travel agent had assumed that he would allow time for stragglers.  Once again. Not very impressed, as it would mean that by the time we hit Nottingham, it would probably be rush hour.

We wasted the hour by just sitting around, drinking coffee and generally just twiddling our thumbs and dumping Euro coins.  Immigration for both France and UK was completed at the station without any problems and as a large group, we were allowed onto the platform before everyone else (which miffed one or two others in the queue...) and loaded all our luggage into a specific locked compartment, before heading for our allocated seats in coach 14.

The run to St Pancras was easy enough and the tunnel didn’t freak out Paula at all – much to her surprise.

We unloaded the luggage and said our farewells to a great group, before heading for the underground.  Queuing for a ticket was a pain and took about half an hour and the wind was whistling through! £10.60 lighter, we soon hit the train and Paula waited patiently for the daylight as she is not a fan of the London underground.  Once above ground, she visibly relaxed.

First impressions of London Underground stations though – NO GRAFFITI!  This was such a pleasant change from France and Italy and it begs the question that if the London Underground can eliminate it, then anyone can.

We arrived at Hatton Cross (the last stop before Heathrow Airport) and lugged the cases up the stairs.  A very kind gentleman carried Paula’s case up the stairs for her, saying that as he was too fat to run away with it, she was perfectly safe!

Right across the road is our usual car hire place – SixT, and we simply wheeled our cases across and picked up the Vauxhall Corsa hire car.  On checking the paperwork, it was supposed to have a full tank of fuel, but it was only 7/8^th full. So we pointed it out and the staff simply asked us to drive to the petrol station next door where they put in 8 litres – almost 2 gallons!

With the TomTom set to Jeremy Clarkson’s guidance, we headed off and within minutes, were distracted by him and a small fender bender accident, ending up heading South instead of North on the notorious M25!  Unlike NZ motorways, it isn’t a case of a couple of hundred yards and turnaround.  Here is it is usually several miles!

Once heading in the right direction, all was good though the traffic was a bit slow in places on the M1 and fine until we got to the Nottingham ring road.  Totally ignoring Clarkson, we ducked and dived through the back streets missing out the traffic and finally arrived at Sue & Dave’s.  I nipped out to see Stewart, Manu and young Noah who was quite funny. It didn’t take long for him to accept “Ga-Ga” again.

The weather is still cool, but no rain.

Well, from now on, you may get condensed rather than daily snippets, but as the only readers are now likely to be friends in NZ, not too much of major interest in terms of travel info, but who knows, maybe we will do some interesting local travel after all? Pics are as likely to be of family...

Day 16 - The real Paris on foot - May 16th




Posers...

 

Smokers had moved into the room next door and as there is no smoking inside the rooms, needless to say, they smoked on the balcony.  No escape it seems, so more coughing for me and a more disturbed night for Paula, who is rapidly coming to the conclusion that I am not the best of travelling companions!

After a light breakfast, we met in the lobby, a small group this time, to head for the cathedral “Sacre Coeur”. It was still cool and long trouser weather, but bright sunshine thank goodness.

I find it most odd that most cathedrals, magnificent old buildings, have succumbed to cheap and nasty money raising slot machines for commemorative medallions, and/or glass and concrete souvenir shops. It does rather grate, although we all know it costs a fortune to maintain them and they have to raise money somehow.

The steps up to the cathedral were littered with literally hundreds of cigarette ends, Heineken bottle tops and a fair bit of broken glass. It appeared not to have been swept for several days.  Whilst the younger or fitter ones opted to climb the tower, Paula and I sat with Greta Hulme and she told us about her very early days with Denny, NZ’s only F1 World Champion.

We then walked round the corner to Montmartre, part of the real Paris we hear so much about.  Heidi and Rod had their portraits drawn by street artists, whilst the rest of us headed for a coffee stop.  They soon joined us, a few Euro’s lighter.



Self portraits?



The square at Montmartre was a hive of activity, with quite a few artists not only selling their works, but also actively painting them.  Styles varied as did the techniques, but a place that you could well spend a fair bit of time just observing.  Of course, there were many commercialised Eiffel tower pics but also one artist seemed obsessed with doing a load of what looked like self portraits!  They were beautifully done.  With his unkempt log grey hair and with a cigarette permanently in his lips, with one or two pics depicting a pipe smoker, I was even more convinced that they were a type of self portrait.

We all walked towards the hotel and just around the corner from the hotel, the others found a small cafe serving hot soup and ciabatta rolls. We carried on and used the facilities in the hotel, before doubling back to join them.  The small cafe was doing a roaring trade and we managed to squeeze in (just).  Nice enough, but the soup could have been a lot warmer.

The others of our small morning group (5 of them) were going to try and meet up at the Eiffel tower at 3pm with several others, but after due consideration and the chance of an afternoon lie down, we opted to stay at the hotel.  Probably not a bad choice as it happens, as the others never really made it in time and were very late back at the hotel. Traffic was slower than normal.

Once again, we ate in the hotel (table of six of us), but opted for just two courses of that small menu.  We settled our bill to save time in the morning and finally crashed at about 11pm – far closer to our normal time than of late.

Well, tomorrow we head for the UK and say farewell to the group and start a new phase of the trip, catching up with family. Much as we have enjoyed the trip so far, family are still an important part of it and seeing young Noah’s growing up is pretty special.  Very little else has been planned for the next two weeks, so it may well be that I can catch up with this blog by condensing the days.

Day 15 - Paris in the spring time - Brrrrr! - May 15th

There are times when computers baffle me.  Yesterday's blog was uploaded OK, but there is absolutely no trace of it at all on my computer!  Weird. Three years ago, also when in the UK, I lost a whole folder of pics, never to be seen again.

Anyway, we rose OK in Paris after sleeping with the door to the balcony slightly open. Breakfast wasn't quite as good as the previous stays but passable. A small group of us met in the lobby ready to walk to the HOHO bus, and with a slight chill in the air, most donned jackets and log trousers (except Ernie, who was happy in shorts and shorts).

We found "Le Tour" open topped bus stop and paid the driver €34 each for a two day pass.  It was a bit slow moving, as everyone getting on had to pay the driver. It wasn't long before the top deck was full – then it got noticeably cooler and overcast. Even Ernie had to don a jacket. The bus driver was either a little inexperienced or unlucky, as I think we hit one road sign and scraped two high kerbs!

By the time we were past the Arc, the roads were being closed off ready for the President's inauguration. The weather got considerably worse.  It was very cold and umbrellas soon popped up as the rain came down and so we elected to dive off and grab a coffee and a bite to eat.

A cosy cafe was ideal and we opted for a famous French item, the Croque Monsieur.  A ham sandwich and with cheese on the top, toasted.  I opted for the Croque Madame – the same thing but with a fried egg on the top.  Very welcome indeed. The rain stopped but it was still rather cold, so we returned to the bus (lower deck!) but headed back to the hotel for warmer gear.  My thin rally jacket and a polo shirt just wasn't warm enough, so out came the sweat shirt and a sleeveless jacket from the bottom of my case.

We returned to the yellow bus route (one of four for Paris) and hopped off near the Moulin Rouge, where several of the group were heading for the night's dinner show.  As the cost was somewhat on the high side, we decided that two weeks UK car hire was a better way to spend that much cash!  Just across the street from the hotel was a stunning patisserie, so we gave that a try. The cakes in the display case really looked a picture.

We ate in the hotel with Rod & Heidi.  A very limited menu but very friendly service and nice enough food, with an option of a fixed price, one, two or three course menu. 

No free Wi-Fi here so I opted to wait until we moved on before uploading the blog to date.  (Not up to date you'll note.)

One more day in Paris, then the trip to England and family. We are not culture vultures so many of the delights of Paris are not really our cup of tea but for many, it is a great City.  Like much of Italy, graffiti is a permanent reminder that many of the residents just do not appreciate the fine buildings.  Spraying a glass and concrete monstrosity is bad enough, but it saddens me greatly that buildings constructed by true craftsmen out of local materials, by hand, are so often defaced.  Neither France nor Italy have embraced the no-smoking in public buildings policy, so escaping the ever present, foul cigarette smoke is almost impossible.