Sunday 2 September 2018

In which Layla and Roz take a foreign approach to English holidaying

By Layla

For two people whose defining feature is the love of overseas travel, we have just had a very unusual fortnight: an English holiday! And what's more, with Kaseki the dog in tow. Fortunately we did adhere to our usual principles of impractical connections. During the course of our holiday we have stayed in Grasmere (Lake District), Cheltenham (Gloucestershire), St Ives (Cornwall), and Totnes (Devon). For the benefit of those not familiar with English geography, these places are not next to each other. And of course we increased the difficulty level by doing it all by train. Fourteen trains to be precise. And Kaseki was an absolute king on every one of them. Not a complaint. Which is more than can be said for me…  

And so, a snapshot of each destination. Grasmere is a charming little village in the heart of the Lake District, known for its gingerbread and lovely walking. I should also argue for its scones, which were superlative. Kaseki was most confused when we checked into our first Air BnB but rapidly got with the programme – between the rain showers. We had some incredibly beautiful walks along the lakeside (or mere-side as I suppose these routes are known in the Lake District), and up hills, including a brilliant hike up a hill just after the rain when the trail had turned into a little river. The views and countryside and walks in general were so spectacular, we gazed at each other in embarrassment: we’ve been travelling all over the world for such things without realising the riches waiting for us just a few train rides away… We had tea in Rydall Hall, and in a charming lakeside ‘Faerieland’. We had local beer and gin in a charming pub. And we walked and walked and walked. It was truly glorious. 

We were sad to leave after five nights, but Cheltenham awaited – a handy stop en route to Cornwall. It turns out to be a particularly charming town, with nice buildings and streets, a lovely hipster-ish area called Montpellier, a fancy version of Cineworld where we saw The Spy Who Dumped Me (which was a little trashy but mostly very enjoyable) and best of all, an adventure-themed minigolf course. I’m happy to report that I won. Most unexpectedly, Cheltenham had an outstanding hike, part of the Cotswold Way, which started on the top of a hill at a golf course just out of town and had truly spectacular views – and lots of sheep. And quite amusingly, we stayed in a posh but dog-friendly hotel where Kaseki got sausages for breakfast.

Next up was a full week in St Ives – a week we may have miscalculated as the bank holiday weekend had brought half the English population to this little seaside town and it was extremely crowded. And of course we had an AirBnB apartment right on the main street. At first we were anxious. But then we realised that few of these people were interested in walking – and we were introduced to the absolute glory of the SouthEast (and SouthWest) Coastal path – a 270-ish mile walking trail along the coast of this farthest mainland point of the UK. The views and trail were so amazing that we have possibly been spoilt for any other walks anywhere in the world. We did the trail in both directions from St Ives, we took a taxi to an amazing section where Virginia Woolf’s lighthouse AND an array of seals were both located (AND a little cafĂ© that did cream teas). And we bussed to St Michael’s Mount (cool little castle across a causeway) and walked to Penzance, and bussed to Land’s End, and walked from there to the charming Minack Theatre, across cliffs with views that felt they must be in Hawaii or some such tropical location. Roz’s arms got increasingly strong as Kaseki preferred not to go uphill – or to walk over stony ground. And I got increasingly fat as I sampled the ice cream and clotted cream of Cornwall. And we went to the cinema to see the slightly odd film Christopher Robin (odd for being seemingly aimed at neither for children nor grown-ups). 

Obviously I couldn’t assess Cornwall’s dairy products without a good comparison. Next stop Devon, or to be more precise, a little inn (which opened in 1320) between Dartington and Totnes. More walking awaited, punctuated by posh but lovely cafes on big estates. The town of Totnes (twinned with Narnia) was particularly delightful with all sorts of nice shops – and Kaseki’s first museum: a bizarre art installation called the Timehouse which is closing next week, and has had an array of accolades from publications such as the New York Times. It was also Totnes Pride but we missed the festivities due to our enthusiasms to walk around a deer park. We also got to go to the cinema in a posh barn, and very much enjoyed The Children Act. And visited a winery and cheese-ery in beautiful countryside. 

But all good things must come to an end. Totnes was alas a staging post for London, so after two lovely nights there, it was time to board the London train and head for home. But not before we booked our next few holidays – which includes some more lovely exploration of England’s coastal walks. This holiday was a risk for us foreign travel aficionados – but it paid off. We had a beautiful time, and bringing along our furry son added some extra joy. Next stop: London.

Books read while on holiday:

Layla – Resist by Sarah Crossan (3/5), The Death of Grass by John Christopher (4/5), Paris Adrift by EJ Swift (3/5), One by Sarah Crossan (4/5), Vox by Christine Dalcher (4/5), Kindred by Octavia Butler (5/5), Dawn by Octavia Butler (5/5), Adult Rites by Octavia Butler (5/5), Imago by Octavia Butler (5/5), Take Nothing With You by Patrick Gale (5/5) and Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler (4/5) 

Roz – The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet by Becky Chambers (10/10), A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers (10/10), Record of a Spaceborn Few by Becky Chambers (10/10), Take Nothing With You by Patrick Gale (10/10), The House on the Strand by Daphne du Maurier (6/10) and Jamaica Inn by Daphne du Maurier (8/10) and in the middle of Golden Hill Frances Spufford.

Monday 9 July 2018

In which Layla and Roz scale the hills of Andorra

By Layla

Most of our trips start with a vigorous Tripadvisor phase - examining every hotel, restaurant and activity til we are satisfied that we will have an excellent time. But not this time. Instead we booked a ‘hike, bike and raft’ action adventure tour to Andorra with Intrepid Travel in the January sale, purchased flights to Toulouse, and thought nothing more of it. In my case, I particularly did not think of any appropriate physical activity preparations that might be indicated for an action adventure tour... 

But at any rate, we awoke on Saturday morning in Toulouse with a full day before tour was to commence with only the sketchiest of plans. But the sun was shining and we breakfasted in a pretty square with croissants and coffee and beautiful fresh orange juice and delighted in our first day of holiday. We walked all over the city, resting in a riverside park with our books, browsing specialty shops in the charming web of streets limed by pink brick buildings, lunched in a little deli, and had hilarious ice cream cones for dessert, somehow fashioned into the shape of multi-petal flowers. We explored Victor Hugo Market, rode the carousel, then went to see the new lesbian-themed movie Disobedience in a brilliant old cinema called the American Cosmograph. Afterwards, having topped up in a French patisserie, we went to see a (rubbish) new photography exhibition in an old water tower, before finishing the afternoon with tea and scones and books in a little tearoom. 

Having returned to the hotel to change for evening, we started off in No 5, a bar that last year was declared the world’s best wine bar. We had many tiny samples of delicious wine and some quite astounding cold soup tapas. We lamented being vegetarian so we couldn’t try ALL the tapas but instead established ourselves at a Moroccan restaurant on the pretty square of that morning’s breakfast where there was now a massive public ballroom dance. We munched our hummous and watched the dancers and declared it a delightful day. 

But what was the tour going to be like? The next morning we Ubered back to the airport and were united with the group who were to be our friends for the next week. This is always a tricky moment on tours: will it be 10 people who are already best friends? People with whom we won’t click? Lots of children? No - we struck lucky with smart, interesting people - mostly women, mostly our age group, and all friendly and cheery. We jumped in the cars and drove up into the mountains and out of the EU and into the tiny country of Andorra. We pulled into our hotel in Soldeu and our tour had officially begun.

Well technically there were no activities scheduled til the next day so after a sociable lunch Roz and I set out on an unplanned 6k hike in our dresses, a lovely woodland walk til we got to the end and had to slide down a practically vertical exit slope on our bottoms. But we still caught the bus back to our hotel in time for the briefing (helpful) and included hotel meal (school dinners-esque). Sadly the World Cup was on and everyone was watching that instead of being sociable so we played some table football and retreated to our little room with G&Ts. 

Our first day was a hike and it was brilliant, if a little too much steep uphill for a girl who had failed to prepare... The Andorra hills are really beautiful, and brimming with flowers. We hiked up to a mountain lake for lunch and got back in time for pre-dinner ice cream at a nearby hotel. The evening was rather similar to the last. 

The next day was Roz’s birthday, and one of the best days of our holiday. We drove up a mountain then cycled down it, in lovely sunshine, pretty much freewheeling all the way as glorious countryside sped past. Then we cycled along a pretty woodland/lakeside path, eventually reaching a zipline/high wires park. Next thing we knew, despite our terror, Roz and I were in the air! We turned out to rather like ziplining, though were less keen on things like tarzan swings high in the air, or wriggling through barrels, again suspended in the air, or walking along high wires like deranged tightrope walkers. But still, we got almost to the end of the course before terror overtook us with a particularly large tarzan swing, and we had to be lowered to the ground for a well-earned lunch of cheese sandwich, crisps, chocolate and fruit, our staple lunch for the week. 

After everyone had finished, we set out on more biking to a lookout point, round the lake, and more downhill freewheeling all the way to an ice cream shop which is of course the optimum biking destination. Off home for a shower and dinner, they very sweetly baked Roz a birthday cake and we sang happy birthday before tucking in to this very welcome dessert - mmm. Then it was into the bus for a thrilling evening excursion into the big city (well, Andorra’s biggest city, which isn’t big at all) to see Cirque du Soleil! An unexpected treat, in a big tent in a park. The acrobats were brilliant, leaping and zooming and balancing in a way that might even have been MORE impressive than our own high wire performance earlier that day. A fantastic evening. 

The next day was whitewater rafting for which we had to drive to a river in nearby Spain. Very similar to Andorra except we could use our phones’ data as we were back in the EU. Squeezed into wetsuits, we braved the river and laughed and screamed our way down 15km of river through grade 3 rapids with names like ‘the washing machine’ til eventually we came out to find lots of spectators and TV cameras - apparently we were in the middle of a canoe race or some such! We waved at the people and retreated to the rafting centre to swim in a nice pool amd enjoy drinks and books in a pretty garden before heading home for dinner and a quite hilarious game of charades using the brilliant Heads Up app. Hooray for a World Cup rest night!

On Thursday we were back on our bikes, up another mountain, this one part of the Tour De France! Luckily again our destination was DOWN the hill. We freewheeled some of it, and did a little offroading in a mild mountain biking sort of way, includimg along the famous Iron Route, and picnicked in a charming spot, before continuing our way downhill, then after the obligatory ice cream stop, driven up to a viewpoint before freewheeling most of the way home: wheeeeee! The hotel restaurant was having a night off so that evening we all went to a tapas restaurant and had the only delicious meal of our trip. 

We longed for a rest day but our tour guides had dodgily decided on their own holidays before the official end of our trip so they told us our rest day would be the last day (when they’d prematurely departed). WFriday was thus another giant hike up a mountain. Despite the steep uphill it was quite startlingly beautiful, climbing up alongside a river filled with waterfalls and lined with flowers. We lunched at another mountain lake and got down in time for people to watch the World Cup, which had disappointingly resumed. Roz and I took our books to the ice cream hotel and indulged in both for the rest of the afternoon. We mused on eating in a Soldeu restaurant but ended up back in our hotel having unpleasant food again. Oops. 


On our last day we worried about lack of plan and getting angsty about our imminent holiday end. But luckily we were distracted by deciding to do a giant mountain hike, accompanied by two nice women from the trip. Up and up and up we climbed. Again it was glorious with beautiful sunshine and blue sky. Again we ate lunch at a mountain lake. Again we turned and headed steeply down for home. But this time it started to rain. Then thunder. Then hail. We tried to get down the steep rocky path as quickly as possibly as the hailstones became bigger and bigger, pinging off our exposed skin, stinging our neck, face and hands. We huddled under a rock in the deluge, then when it calmed a little, we proceeded only for it to get worse than ever. I’ve never been out in such a massive storm, much less up a mountain 2 hours from home. The hail lay on the ground like big white marbles. We dashed. We shrieked. We shivered. And finally we were home in hot showers and facing soaking soggy shoes and clothes that demanded to be packed because at 6:30am the next day, we were leaving for Toulouse Airport. We spent a final night in the hotel dining room, paid our gin bill, said a final farewell, and headed to bed in preparation for an early start and the end to a rather excellent holiday. 

Monday 19 March 2018

In which Layla and Roz frolic in the hills of LA and the joys of Taylor Mac

By Layla 

It was surreal to be driving alongside the Las Vegas strip in our little shuttle bus from Zion, but after a night in a non-Vegas-ish hotel, we wound our way past the poker machines all over the airport and by mid morning on Thursday had returned to the thankfully less-bright lights of Los Angeles. 

We arrived in time for lunch at our favourite falafel restaurant at the very hip Grand Central Market, from which it was a five minute stroll to our home for the next few days. Our AirBnB apartment was impossibly hip. Genuinely the most stylish apartment I’ve ever seen, much less stayed in. It was amazing and we rejoiced, before grabbing an Uber to a rather obscure location: Frogtown! As we drove past happy people on swan-shaped pedal boats, Roz plaintively asked if that was where we were headed. No! We were doing an hour-long walk along a rather industrial-feeling river. Luckily I redeemed myself by taking us to to Spokes, an unlikely, hilariously hip riverfront bike shop/restaurant. We gorged on salted chocolate chip cookies, walked the requisite hour, then I crumbled and called an Uber back to Echo Park, that lovely park we’d passed on the way. We finished off with a nice stroll around the lake and major dog appreciation session, went home to glam up, and then grab a sneaky grilled cheese sandwich before the event that had brought us to LA in the first place: Taylor Mac’s 24 hour, 24 century history of America through music. It was spectacular. He’d split it into four sets of six hours and we had tickets for the first two (having previously seen the third in New Yorka few years back). It’s hard to explain six hours of spectacular performance, songs, politics, and all sorts of participation. It was hypnotic. And disconcerting. And made us see history differently. Though the full hour when they had us all blindfolded so we could use our other senses was a fatal combination with my jetlag... But gosh. Not so much a show as an experience. And home way past my bedtime. 

The next day we took the train to Hollywood and, after a sneaky avocado toast in a cool coffeeshop, hiked up Runyon Canyon. It was beautiful. And teeming with locals walking their dogs, which was fun. Great views - if a tad too steep for my liking (the dogs weren’t complaining). Afterwards we took the train back home, and popped into Washington favourite Sweetgreen for a nostalgic salad lunch. It rained that afternoon so we read our books and we visited the lovely Last Bookshop for a bit of literary browsing. Delightful. 

We returned through the rain to to Grand Central Market for a Thai dinner, then got back on the train (which is mostly used by homeless people, which is a bit odd) and returned to Hollywood for an evening treat: one of our favourite improv groups, Second City. Their show was Trump in Space and was good if not spectacular (or maybe we now think a good show has to last six hours?!). 

On our penultimate LA day was sunny and on a whim we went to Pasadena on the train. I confess I was mostly inspired to visit the location where the Big Bang Theory is set but I was extra-delighted to find their city hall doubles as Pawnee’s town hall in Parks and Recreation. Sightseeing complete, we ensconced ourselves in a cool cafe for banana cake... then lunch. Finally we extracted ourselves to go to a beautiful bookstore, which was such a treat, with lovely book recommendations from the staff. And then we ubered to the start of a trail to hike Eaton Canyon. 

I’d expected it to be a fairly prosaic hike but the recent rains had turned this riverside stroll into an adventure playground. We had to cross the river at several different points, leaping on logs and stepping stones, and miraculously staying semi-dry. But feeling like Indiana Jones, obviously. Well, until an array of women suavely passed us on the stones, leaping gracefully with their dogs under their arms... 

We suddenly realised the time and dashed back across all the rivers and into yet another Uber to grab a quick bite to eat, dash home, glam up, and walk over to Taylor Mac part 2. Being the weekend, more people were dressed up and it was very cool with everything from a reimagined Mikado set on Mars to a song contest between Walt Whitman and Stephe Collins Foster. But our seats were in a draft, and yet again I got a tad sleepy at the 4-hour mark. We mused upon going home to our warm, comfy bed but in the end did not succumb to old lady-ness and stayed til it was over. Phew. Not old ladies yet. 

Our final day in LA - how I hate the last day feeling at the end of a holiday. We checked out of our insanely stylish apartment and left our bags in a BagBnB location - this is apparently a new thing and very convenient for left luggage. A quick purchase of avocado toast later and we were ubering towards our final hike: a 6 mile round trip up the mountain to behind the Hollywood sign. What a cool hike! Spectacular views, lovely grassy scenery, and dogs aplenty. I rather messed up at the end by trying to send Roz up an almost-vertical slope to the sign before someone pointed out the clear sign up a normal road and we stood right behind the H, which was most cool. 

But all good things must come to an end. We walked all the way down the mountain, then an extra twenty minutes to a strip of cool shops where we had fancy avocado toast (our second of the day - stop judging!) and artisanal icecream. And then got a succession of Ubers back to pick up our luggage and head to the airport. We had a final glass of champagne in the terminal, which humiliatingly made me drunk! And now you are experiencing the results of this as I type this blog (on a delayed plane). Goodbye LA! Such a lovely holiday and I can’t believe it was only a week. 

Books Roz read on holiday:
Lullaby by Leila Slimani 7/10
Still Me by Jojo Moyes 8/10
The Idiot by Elif Batuman 7/10
Children of Time by Adrian Tchaikovsky 10/10
The Last Dog on Earth by Adrian Walker 6/10
Lost for Words by Stephanie Butland 7/10
Plus progress made on:
Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell
Moon Palace by Paul Auster

Books I read on holiday:
Manhattan Beach by Jennifer Egan 5/5
The Idiot by Elif Batuman 3/5
H(A)PPY by Nicola Barker 3/5
Three Things About Elsie by Joanna Cannon 5/5
Ready Player One by Ernest Cline 5/5
Lost for Words by Stephanie Butland 4/5

Wednesday 14 March 2018

In which Layla and Roz revisit old US haunts - and a new National Park

By Layla

When Roz and I came up with our holiday plan many months ago, we were inspired by two ambitions: to hike in a national park and to see some of one of our favourite performance artists, Taylor Mac, doing segments of his spectacular 24 hour show on a queer history of music in the last 24 decades. A strange combination. So we bought tickets to two six-hour segments of his show in Los Angeles... and on Saturday morning we set off to sunny LA. 

Except it wasn’t at all sunny. We had managed to land in the middle of a very rare occurrence: a horrible rainy week in Los Angeles. Our AirBnB apartment for our first night in Venice was on a lane that was so submerged in water that we had to wade up to our ankles in rainwater just to get in... and soon out again for a delicious dinner and cocktails at one of our favourite restaurants, Butcher’s Daughter. It was worth it! So fun to be in London in the morning, then by evening dining in LA in a location dubbed America’s hippest street (Abbot Kinney). 

The next morning we awoke at the crack of dawn and I was dispatched to Blue Bottle Coffee to procure Roz’s first stateside flat white coffee. Then we gazed dismally at the rain, and the mismatch between the weather and our plan to cycle along the beach. So we went for brunch at an amusingly hipster restaurant on Abbot Kinney, til the rain subsided to a drizzle. We jumped upon bikes provided by our AirBnB, and set off along cycle paths to the beach. Both of us really love this amazing cycle path that cuts right through the sand dunes and goes along the coast for miles. We’d only ever done it before in blazing sunshine. It was a whole different atmosphere in the rain and also very cool... though I confess we turned back when it started to get a bit... torrential. We stopped off for lunch in our favourite bike route-side sandwich cafe, Mendocino Farms. Mmmmm I am still dreaming of that delicious tempeh sandwich. 

Ironically by the time we got back to Venice and dropped off our bikes, the sun had started to come out. We walked down to Venice beach and had a charming stroll along the boardwalk and out onto a pier, smiling at cute dogs and determined surfers and street art and people of every variety. Then we veered away from the sand and onto the network of canals that give Venice its name: a charming residential Disneyland of waterways. As we strolled up and down the bridges, Roz and I actually got sunburned!

We finished off our lovely afternoon back at Abbot Kinney Street, browsing in pretentious dog shops and the like, and picking up tasty salads for our dinner later. Then we grabbed our luggage, hopped in an Uber, and returned to the airport. We awaited the next stage of our holiday with beer to accompany our tasty salad dinner. Next stop: St George, Utah!

Where, you may ask? Quite. We landed at 10:30pm and it was tiny and it was pitch black but hooray and thank goodness: out of the darkness an Uber emerged. He drove us through pitch blackness for over an hour until we suspected we had fallen off the edge of the world and were now hurtling through space in a jetlagged haze of disorientation. Finally, a sign was illuminated: Zion National Park. Our home for the next three days. 

We were staying in Zion Lodge, right in the middle of the park, and found ourselves in a charming little cabin, all cosy and rustic. And we collapsed into bed. 

The next day, up far too early, we had a delicious breakfast in the hotel restaurant overlooking the soaring red peaks and cliffs of a canyon that we hadn’t been aware of at all on arrival. The Lodge was perfectly located for an array of hikes and we set off on the first one, an enchanting 4 mile circuit past waterfalls and pools and spectacular views (and many young people on spring break). We ate our lunch (which we’d bought the night before at the airport in LA) perched on the top of a cliff overlooking the Virgin River in the sun and it was all absolutely glorious. Later that day we took the free park shuttle to another trail, the Riverside Walk. It was incredibly lovely and scenic. It was also the jumping off point for The Narrows, a walk through the river that requires wetsuit type equipment at this time of year. We didn’t go, but enjoyed watching some intrepid hikers head upstream. We headed downstream, did another mini-hike, and spent the rest of the afternoon with icecream and beer and books back at Zion Lodge. 

That night we shamefully went to bed before 9pm and were thus up long before the crack of dawn. Our mission today: Angel’s Landing, one of Zion’s most famous and beloved hikes. My impression: far too steep and full of spring breakers. Luckily Roz had the genius idea to divert onto the West Rim trail which was less attractive to the vigorously loud college students and we climbed up a mountain and found a lovely place for picnicking and reading our books in the sun before a long and rather steep descent. And then a sneaky repetition of that really charming Riverside walk before our ice cream and beer reward. That evening we kept ourselves entertained with chess and Dobble and dinner and cocktails until just after 9pm: very proud. 

We woke up today to our last day at Zion National Park, and it was raining: boo. Luckily the rain was intermittent. We took the shuttle to the Watchmans Trail, which was a gradual uphill climb to the top of a little mountain with brilliant views. It was one of my favourite hikes. We had our elevenses at the peak and got down just as the rain started to fall again. So we hopped in the bus back to the Lodge for a quesadilla lunch. Then we returned to the trail and hiked the Pa’arus trail which was flat along the river and yet again beautiful. Zion has really incredible hiking trails, scenery AND transport options. Roz and I bitterly lamented that nobody had recommended we visit while we were living in the US. 

As the rain fell once more, we caught a shuttle out of the park and into nearby Springsdale where we have ensconced ourselves in a cafe (where I may or may not have ordered a chocolate crepe) as we await a bus to shuttle us to our next location: Las Vegas. But not for the slots - just to the airport to grab a plane back to Los Angeles where Taylor Mac and his crazy 6-hour-long performances await!