Days like these

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Stepping outside today, it was hard to believe that summer could be almost over. After weeks of rain, horrible flooding, hailstorms and enough cloudy, overcast days to make me want to cry, today has just been a blessing. A day like today rates up there with fresh pasta and Jane Austen and boys in waistcoats and dress shoes. Having only just come back from Thailand (thereby relegating myself to the very low end of the poverty bracket) I should of course be entirely too used to sunny days, but having a couple here at home is just so special. Even the hardened traveller should be able to appreciate a good thing, and I've never been one to not make the most of days like these. 
Long rambling walks with the boy, coffees at Pink Lane, fresh flowers in the house and dramatic, fervid arguments with myself about whether I really need to go back to a full time job. But with Leeds festival and Northampton coming up, I can only pray that this weather holds for just a few more weeks. Pretty please? I'll be really, really good. 

Insta-Newcastle II

So... Thailand

So Thailand, I hear you've decided to rain on my holiday. To trap everyone indoors with only the hum of the air conditioner and crackly CNN for company. In fact, you know what else I've heard, Thailand? I've heard you don't want us here. It's the only logical explanation for all this. I bet that's why you've made boat trips and beach visits pointless and swimming dangerous. I think you're bored of us already, Thailand, and you just want us to go home and cry. 

Is that right, Thailand, huh? Is that what you really think? 

Well guess what Thailand! Screw you! Screw you and your mama because we're going to have fun anyway! We're going to get soaked and ride in tuk tuks and argue with shop owners about whether or not we should be allowed to stand under their awnings! We're going to watch the State of Origin with a cold cider and a crowd of screaming Aussies (go the Blues, by the way). We'll take long, scenic day trips and make use of every patch of sun we get. We'll take overnight trains and avoid any mention of ping pong at all costs. We'll clamber through trees and do battle with food poisoning and maybe even win. Because that's what we came here to do. 

And even on the days when it's clear that the rain has won and the day seems wasted, we'll still enjoy ourselves. We'll drink overpriced coffees and convince friendly drivers to take us across town for a fraction of the cost because it's the nice thing to do and we'll be trapped otherwise. Maybe we'll see shows or go walk in the wet sand. We'll write long emails to family, create inventive facebook posts and seriously consider getting tailored suits. You never know. Because as moronic (but cheap) as it may be to go to Thailand in the rainy season, we're still having the time of our lives. Because that's what we came here to do. We're awesome like that.

Barcelona for beginners - Five travel tips for novices

It's fine and dandy to blog about abstract concepts and vague themes but us travel bloggers are occasionally obligated to return to the actual basis of our expertise and blog about an actual place that we've actually been to. After all, we can't expect you readers to live vicariously through us if we're not actually going anywhere. And so, to Barcelona I went.

Were I a braver soul, my flight may have involved me annoying fellow passengers with football chants (Barcelona FC style) and attempting to converse with EasyJet's very British staff in Spanish, such was my excitement. However, shy and retiring wallflower that I am, I contented myself with an imported Frankie mag and the conversation of my travel buddy. After all, wannabe Geordie I am but wannabe Geordie Shore I will never be. 

A Spanish holiday tends to end up being either a glorified art gallery tour or a foodie/wino's dream of sangria and paella. I attempted to mix both together and it all ended up a bit higgledy piggledy. Trust me, if you're not absolututely obsessed with Gaudi; craning your neck to stare at his buildings does get old eventually. 

And so, for the average joe travellers of the world: Here's my guide to enjoying Barcelona.

1. Try and stay relatively close to the city centre as the metro and buses are going to cost you two euro each time you step on and a long walk can be a miserably hot affair. We stayed at Ona Barcelona which, whilst being a liiiitle noisy and a bit boring, was in a brilliant location, had very friendly staff and was absolutely, spotlessly clean. I definitely recommend staying on the fifth floor if you can where it's hotter, but much quieter. The showers on our floor (and really the bathrooms in general) were the best I've ever come across in a hostel. Ever.

Ever the Work-In-Progress: Gaudi's Sagrada Familia

2. Pick and choose your Gaudi carefully. The buildings are lovely, the church is lovely, the park is lovely, but after a while it will all start to seem a bit sameish and frankly garish. With costs of entry being around 15-20 euros, I'd hate to see you all bored by him. I recommend the park, which is free and makes for a nice bit of exercise if you've been ordering one too many tapas dishes for your table. The others can all be happily viewed from the outside without feeling you've missed out on something significant. Of course, when doing anything outdoors in Barcelona: be prepared to feel like you're in the middle of a friggin dust storm.

3. Practice your Spanish, but be prepared for some scathing looks. Still brimming with pride from last year's very successful South American trip, I felt my basic spanish should at least be up to par for ordering food. Yeah, turns out not. It wasn't pretty. I still maintain it's far better to try and fail, but unlike many other countries where attempting the language gets you smiles of appreciation, here it seemed more to annoy. So feel free just to point to things on the menu and save yourself the embarrassment, but try not to resort to too much English. At least remember to say por favor and gracias. It's quite literally the least you can do.

4. Explore the Gothic Quarter. Hands down, this was my favourite part of the whole trip. All those tiny alleyways, all those beautiful boutiques, all those quirky folks and eyebrow raising artworks. Absolutely darling. Fab. Spend an afternoon there if you can and seek out La Clandestina when you're ready for a tea/coffee/fresh juice break. Best cafe in the whole city. I won't tell you exactly where it is because I truly can't remember. Right at the green door, left at the ruin and past the tattoo parlour I think? Or was it left at the museum? Whatever, I'm sure you'll find it... eventually. 

5. Ask first, order later. The Santa Caterina Market is definitely worth your time, if only to check out the ruins beneath before heading on to the Chocolate Museum (Best museum idea ever, by the way. I mean, you get to eat the entry ticket!) but watch out for those wily fruit sellers. Make sure you ask how much something is first even if it's labelled. Otherwise you'll have it wrapped and bagged with your money already changing hands before you'll find out it's suddenly ten euros for a tiny punnet of raspberries. Good luck getting your change back at that point. 

Insta-Newcastle

Birthdays Abroad

It's been a week of milestones over here in ye olde England. A twenty-second birthday, a seventh month in the UK and eighteen months of being a Him and Her, rather than a singular unit. Gosh, it's just excitement after merry excitement in my life. Oh, and the weather finally broke. 

With the sun shining, the birds singing and the heating finally getting switched off; it's dang hard to find anything to complain about. Mornings are spent wandering the streets finding vampire rabbits (aaahh!) afternoons are spent in sunny beer gardens, evenings spent baking cupcakes and nights spent... booking flights and accommodation in Thailand. That's the problem with us young folks - we're absolutely impossible to please. When they dubbed us the Global Generation they truly weren't kidding. So what shall I do til I'm twenty-three? Enjoy each patch of sun whilst it lasts, then move on to the next one. 

And they all went marching

Home sick today with little to do and no energy to do it. So how else is a girl to entertain herself but to write? Even in sickness, life is pleasantly calm at the moment. The sun is finally out (and I'm told it will reach twelve degrees at the end of the week! Twelve!) and our neighbour's cat has been sunning herself on our garden wall for the better part of two hours. My envy of her is extreme. Aside from my aching bones and heavy head, my only other irritant today is the ants who've decided to call our kitchen home. Fellow bloggers have been commenting for weeks about these wee beasties who've suddenly appeared in houses from Glasgow to Bournemouth and, sadly, Anthony and his friends decided to finally bless us with their presence about a week ago. 

Our attempts at being cruel to be kind have so far not deterred them and it seems any spare scrap of food, neglected sweet or open packet is forfeit in this war. And so, with groaning belly, dizzy vision and tired legs; my mission today is simple. Get the house ship shape and completely spotless. That orta starve the little ratbags out of here. 

Playing House

In a move that is likely to completely alienate me from my target audience; I seem to be settling down. 
Rather than fantasising about great adventures to come, my thoughts are occupied by what we'll have for dinner or how many people we'll invite to the house party. I've become one of them. The happily hibernated folks. But with a job as fun as mine, a flat as great as mine and a boyfriend as darling as mine... can I really be blamed for this?

With trips already in the planning stages for July and October I'm pretty darn certain I'm not a totally lost cause. After all, the travel bug always bites when you least expect it. For now though I'll spend my weekends with cups of tea and freshly baked cakes, happily playing house.

Easter

The thing about compulsory holidays is that they're usually more depressing than they are relaxing. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot that's right about Easter, Christmas, Melbourne Cup Day and all the rest but there's always a slightly forced edge to any celebrations. Easter especially managed to achieve this for me this year. There's the obvious problem with it that it makes me miss my younger siblings and cousins and of course the combination of tonnes of chocolate and a sudden awareness of how much winter paunch I've gained... never a great mix. 
One thing that was great about Easter over here though was the Easter Sunday Dinner. Full sized roasts, vegetables, sauces, pies and desserts. That right there is a tradition I can get behind. Might be something to bring back to the Aussies one day.

Things to do in Newcastle

Most cities get to be immortalised by the likes of Lonely Planet with a review of all their latest and greatest attractions. I thought I'd do my part for Newcastle with a list of my own creation. With a bit of luck, I might be able to lure a few visitors out of the nightclubs in the Big Market and get them looking at the actual gems NC has to offer.

Butterfly Cabinet, Heaton

Often still referred to as the Bell and Herb, this cafe offers some of the best food you'll ever eat in one of the coolest places you'll ever eat it in. Well, as long as you're prepared to wait for a table that is. This place seems to hit the spot for just about everybody, from young families to local bands so if you get there late at night be prepared for a very different experience than the Saturday morning breakfast crowd are likely to have. The cafe is also vegetarian friendly, without getting all weird about it.

Jesmond Dean
Whether you're after a peaceful afternoon stroll or you've taken a fancy to watching small children get bowled over by manic dogs, this beautiful park will surely meet your expectations. Plus, with Jesmond Old Cemetery barely a five minute walk away there's a ready opportunity to get your creep on and do some eerie graveyard exploring.  With or without the side-trip the park is definitely worth a visit if you've got a sunny afternoon and a picnic basket to spare or perhaps just a nasty hangover to nurse. Just as nature was always meant to be used. 

Quayside Markets
No longer as interesting as it was in the 50s (when I'm told you could buy monkeys and snakes here!) but still well worth an hour out of your Sunday morning. Once you get past the half a dozen stalls selling underwear and fake flowers, this market suddenly becomes quite charming. Start at Fresh and Frothy for a coffee to warm your hands for the rest of the walk. Then make your way all the way to the other end and pay a visit to the hilarious David Nash, whose stall will either excite your senses or scandalise your sensibilities. Either way is, of course, fine by me. 
(Tip: If markets are your thing, Tynemouth and the Tynemouth Markets make a nice daytrip)

Bacchus
I originally attended this bar on the dubious recommendation of an old guy on the train but it turns out old guys on the train know their stuff. Consistently voted the number one beer bar in Newcastle, this place is truly wonderful for those after a simple drink in stylish surrounds.

St James Stadium
Look at me doing my part to make friends here by still referring to it as St James! Despite all the naming rights controversies that seem to dominate any news story about football in Newcastle, a game at St James is still worth your time. After all, Newcastle has some of the most passionate supporters in the country. Be careful, though. As I'm writing this at the same time as there's a Newcastle/Sunderland game in progress, I'm fully aware of how important it is to stay as far from the stadium as possible right now. Beer and fights all round!

Why We Run

There are some universally acknowledged truths about travel.  All backpacks inherited from parents will fall apart the first time you go to repack them, that creepy guy from your first hostel is always going to have the same schedule planned as you do and all in-flight meals will be about as palatable as laminate floorboards (yes, Qantas, you get to claim exception from this rule). One truth that is perhaps more meaningful, if not a little spiritual, is that all, all travelers -no matter what they claim- are running away from something. Really.

This isn't some self justifying, generic commentary provided by jealous relatives. It's fact. It can be as simple as running away from boredom and monotony or as fear driven as running from an ex lover or a horrendously painful breakup. We run from childhood, adulthood, and the urge to settle down. We run from graduations, family homes, real careers and choices that actually require us to risk failure for once. Whether we acknowledge it or not, there's always a reason, there's always a motivation, there's always something to fear in slowing down. Staying still.

But regardless of what we think, our true motivations do not invalidate our choice to travel. To run. Our minds know exactly what it is we're not ready to face. To travel is to build up a resistance, an immunity. Fleeing takes us out of the path of one challenge and throws us directly in the path of other, greater ones. By facing and defeating these challenges we're building up the strength and knowledge we need to go back and face that first demon we left behind. That whole "life experience" thing old folks talk about isn't as pointless as they make it sound, you know.

So my advice to all of you is to run. Run as fast and as far as you can. Run to discover as much as to escape and don't stop until you've reached some magical and enlightening place where everything makes sense again. I hear it's wonderful there.

  

Songs to run away with:

Architecture in Helsinki - Desert Island

Foster the People - Pumped Up Kicks

Metronomy - The Look

The Head and The Heart - Lost in My Mind

Gotye - Heart's a Mess

The Maccabees - Mary

It's beginning to look a lot like winter

I'm told by locals on a near daily basis that this has been an incredibly mild winter. Terms like "sunbathing weather" are thrown around with the casual nonchalance that only true hardweather boys possess. But what these crazy northerners are forgetting is that the rest of us (sane) folks are not used to this kind of climate. Whilst I was sadly deprived of the White Christmas I've dreamt of since childhood, I can no longer deny that winter is well and truly here. Snow has fallen, melted and fallen again, matches are regularly postponed for weather, the sun doesn't rise til it's almost time for it to set again and the walk down the hill to the bus stop becomes more and more treacherous every day. Black ice, as it turns out, is very likely to be the cause of my early demise. 

A wariness of spending too much money before I've received some decent sized paycheques means there will be no fancy skiing holidays for me. A trip to Edinburgh was the highlight of the new year so far but with southern England buried in snow and sitting at a comfortable negative seven degrees; it looks like I won't be doing much tourism for a while. So the question becomes: what is the humble traveller to do when leaving the house comes with oversized coats, frostbite and horizontal sleet flying in your face?

Winter can still be a grand old time of year for those of us who are sensibly unwilling to risk pneumonia. The humble thrills enjoyed back home can still bring comfort abroad. Restaurants, movies, bars and cafes are just as enjoyable. Museums, galleries and shops are still open and whilst good television seems to have gone on hiatus lately, a night in watching one of the many award ceremonies that kick off during February is just as fun here as back home. One of the difficulties modern travellers face is getting over the belief that you have to be doing something every day in order to justify your trip. Sometimes simply enjoying yourself is more than enough.

Edinburgh

With the sudden dependance we all have on guidebooks and internet reviews, it has become very difficult for a place to defy expectations. We still find museums/bars/shops that we've not heard of and meet a whole lot of different folks, but with guidebooks and reviewers going as far as describing building layouts, local attitudes and even smells, we tend to know what to expect of a place. But even if you insist on reading every book and every blog you can possibly find, there's often one or two things about a place that will startle you. Argentina, for example, has the best icecream I've ever tasted. Strasbourg has a whole bunch of weirdly good theme bars and Siem Reap, surprisingly, is full of amazing vintage clothing shops.

Edinburgh, as it turns out, is full of Australians. The shops, the cafes, the streets, all had me spinning around trying to spot the sources of the Australian accents I kept hearing. I'd gone half way round the world just to find home, again. Whether this is a good thing or a bad thing would of course be a matter of opinion, but it was certainly entertaining for a girl whose not encountered another Aussie in nearly three months. 

At present, Edinburgh sadly feels a lot like a giant construction zone, with some major works going on around the main station and the city centre. This does affect the atmosphere of the place when you first arrive, but move a few blocks away from the buzz of machinery and the city almost immediately regains its charms. Lunch at Viva Mexico (I have an inability to embrace local cuisines), a browse through Miss Katie Cupcake for custom jewellery and trinkets and coffee at a very Melbournian cafe; Black Medicine Coffee Co., made for a lovely, slightly un-Scottish afternoon. 

 

View from Edinburgh Castle



Anzacs and Tea

Access to a fully equipped kitchen is a rarity when travelling, but I am currently one of the lucky few who can claim exception to that. As such, bouts of loneliness for my homeland are rather easily cured with favourites from home. Anzac biscuits (kind of like a chewy Hob Nob) are one of Australia's greatest creations and celebrating them with new friends has allowed me plenty of opportunity to smugly show off my own humble cooking abilities. And really; nothing can beat the Anzac as a tea dipping biscuit. Three of these and a cup of Lady Gray tea create something magical out of what would otherwise be just another rainy British day.


Recipe after the jump.