In which Layla and Roz spot tarantulas in the jungle

By Layla

On our last morning in La Fortuna we waved goodbye to the volcano and hopped on a minibus with a group of US college kids on spring break, for one of the loveliest three hour transfers ever. After a short bus ride, we hopped off at Lake Arenal and boarded a little boat. Our luggage stacked at the front, we cruised across the ridiculously picturesque lake, the volcano looming beautifully on the horizon, the water sparkling in the sun. It is such a delight to be on holiday.

Sad when the boat hit the sand at the other side of the lake, we climbed out onto the beach to find the minibus that drove us down bumpy roads to our next destination: Santa Elena and Monteverde. Our hotel is slap bang in the centre of Santa Elena and within 20 minutes of arriving, we'd checked in, booked a hanging bridges 'sky walk', booked a jungle night hike, and climbed up into a restaurant set around a giant tree (the aptly named Treehouse Restaurant) where we were enjoying exceptionally delicious soup and salad and feeling very fond of Santa Elena.

The sky walk was a lot of fun. We drove up into the jungle and embarked on a really cool hike that was punctuated by six hanging bridges suspended over the treetops far below. Not one for those without a head for heights, but it was beautiful. The forest looked almost fake, its greenery so brilliant it might have been invented for a Disney film. Very lovely. We went round the whole circuit twice before catching the shuttle back to town for tour number 2: the jungle night hike.

The point of hiking in the jungle in pitch blackness is to spot animals, birds and insects that aren't usually visible during the day. In view of the majority of these creatures being spiders and snakes and scorpions and the like, I was unsure of my enthusiasm levels and rather hoped these animals wouldn't make an appearance. Alas I was foiled and we hiked up and down, through black foliage and across black streams as our guide shone his torch and exclaimed "Look! Big shiny eyes!" We saw a few mammals I've frankly never heard of (a bit like a stoat in appearance), two frogs ("very beautiful. Big red eyes!"), two snakes ("only a little bit venomous"), a tarantula, a scorpion, and some butterflies and birds. Apparently not a bad haul. As my small torch scanned the ground near my feet for creepy crawlies, I wasn't too sad when it was time to return to civilization - which in our case took the form of dinner, drinks and live music in the Treehouse...

It turns out that travelling to a cloud forest in the mountains is not a guarantee of balmy weather. As we tried to sleep last night, a vigorous wind whipped its way through our windows and teeth chattering, I wished for a giant duvet. Morning came with the wind still whipping, which wasn't encouraging for two girls planning to take the 7:30am public bus to go hiking in the Monteverde Cloud Forest...

We shivered as we bought our tickets into the National Park but luckily the trees provided a bit of cover and we ended up hiking around pretty much the entire park. The trees and scenery were very cool, and the trails sprawled around the perimeter, up and down, past waterfalls, bridges, and views of the continental divide. We popped back halfway through for coffee and cake... Then continued til four hours later we'd conquered Monteverde Cloud Forest. Fab.

After some carrot soup in the adjacent restaurant, we walked down the road a couple of kilometres to the Monteverde Cheese Factory, just in time for their 2pm tour. I've been on wine, coffee and chocolate tours aplenty - but this was my first cheese experience! The place was opened by Quakers fleeing US army conscription in 1954 and collects milk from the local area to make a wide variety of cheeses. The tour was brilliant in a slightly rubbish/kitsch way. We saw photos of the original Quakers learning to make the cheese. Photos of cows. Views of the cheese making equipment. And the best bit - cheese tasting. What fun!

We were eyeing the pavementless 4k walk home with some lack of enthusiasm when quite improbably on the deserted road, a taxi appeared and conveyed us back to the hotel and a sunny veranda with beer, then a fancy restaurant. Today: transfer to Manuel Antonio National Park area!

In which Roz and Layla float down rivers and don't jump off a cliff

By Roz

We left you as we were about to go whitewater rafting. (In Layla's last blog entry she omitted to mention that I had been for a run that morning. I assume that this was guilt on her part for not bringing her own running stuff or at having no urge to go running...) Rafting proved to be fab. A not very long bus journey deposited us, and a disappointing number of other tourists, by a very pretty river. Our very best efforts to avoid being put in a boat with children were ultimately foiled but our fellow rafting companions (a couple and their two daughters) turned out to be perfectly nice and the children only slightly braver than us (a relief for all of us). We were talked through the safety instructions, and Layla and I listened as though they were all that stood between us and death (and not at all as though we had done it before). Death turned out not to be particularly likely, not least because it is the dry season in Costa Rica, and thus the waters are quite low (and hence not terrifying). Nonetheless it was brilliant to go down the river, past the odd nameless animal and beautiful bird. We stopped off for a fruit snack, and I made a spectacle of myself by eating far more of the pineapple than was my share (what can I say: I like pineapple and I have very little shame...). Not long afterwards, we were inelegantly getting out of the boats, and were back on to the bus for a very late lunch (3pm). 

We were taken to a local house / restaurant, which they were very keen to emphasize was "really old" (100 years - Layla and I tried not to snigger) and greeted with shots of moonshine, which both Layla and I dodged, I'm afraid (drinking shots never works out well for me, and Layla is even less of a drinker than me). We were then first in line for lunch (rice and beans, plus some really delicious plantain and another dish which was green and vegetarian but absolutely unidentifiable). Having scoffed our lunch before most people had even seen the queue, we both headed back for seconds (we felt guilty but not that guilty). When everyone else had finished, and we had all had Costa Rican fudge (not at all like our fudge) and a sip of moonshine mixed with some other stuff that made it taste like Bailey's (a drink I really don't like but which Layla has quite some enthusiasm for) we went to look at sugar cane being refined by oxen which was fun if a bit random. 

And then we were back in town around 4.30. Our first stop was to organize a trip for the next day and, having successfully done so (with ice cream to help), we went to My Coffee (unsurprisingly a coffee shop) to read our books. Whilst there I became entirely besotted with a small dog owned by one of the neighboring shop owners (and received many compliments on "my" dog from passers-by) and contemplated how to kidnap him - whilst Layla tried to dodge his licks (she still believes any dog with an open mouth is about to eat her, having spent her childhood in Spain where there are lots of guard dogs). The dog owner having reclaimed her dog, the coffee shop lost some of its allure, so we stopped off for a drink in the Lava Lounge, which we went to a couple of nights before. We contemplated food, but the combination of hot weather and a late lunch meant neither of us really fancied food and so after our pause for drinks we returned to the hotel to sit on our balcony, read, whilst drinking a local beer (let's skate over the ice cream...). 

Next morning we were up early for another trip: this time a combination which included tubing, rappelling and horseback riding in a privately owned of part of the rainforest. I can't quite imagine what we were thinking when we signed up for such an ambitious combination: our hotel owner sniggered when he heard our plans for the day and noted we had said we were too scared to do ziplining "but rappelling is much scarier". Tubing turned out to involve floating down a river in a large rubber ring which has a mesh on the bottom to stop your legs going through. It was occasionally slightly scary when the water ran fast (though I suspect that I would be alone in using the adjective "scary" for the experience). But it was also always really wonderful: it's just amazing to float down river, sort of under your own steam - despite the guide - in the middle of a rainforest. Layla and I got out of the water agreeing that we needed to go tubing again, and very soon. 

One might have hoped that our success in tubing would have given us confidence for rappelling. And it certainly gave us confidence enough to get the rappelling kit on. But I am ashamed to admit that when our cheery guide stood on the edge of a cliff and said in Spanglish "you just go down", my confidence failed. It was the lack of anything other than an empty void for the first 10 feet that was the killer for me I think: the jumping off point (which I am sure should not be called that) is further from the rest of the cliff than one would want and so the enthusiastic rappeller (or even the reluctant rappeller) has to make quite a leap of faith. I was not ready to make that leap. And nor was Layla. And so, I am ashamed to say, we shamefacedly backed away from the cliff with many apologies and started talking loudly about our eagerness to go horse riding. 

Horse riding proved to be as excellent as it always is. And the guide's disappointment at our lack of enthusiasm for galloping as obvious as it always is. Ah well. It was fun going through the canyon, and to see the rainforest from a slightly different height. And at the end it was also fun to find ourselves popping out in a field with beautiful volcano views, at an unexpected stable. Our guide warmed to us despite our lack of galloping (eventually), and showed us the dancing horses in his stable - and, best of all, gave us a small horse dancing demonstration. It was really rather lovely to see the clear bond between him and his horses...

We thought that this was going to be the end of the fun activities, but the guy who took us back to the hotel where we'd left our rucksack and clean clothes mentioned that we were entitled to use the thermal baths at the hotel should we wish. (Layla and I disagreed subsequently about whether this was an option offered to all those who dodged rappelling to ensure that there were no requests for refunds... I say yes but who knows.) In any event, we seized on this option with enthusiasm, and (after a quick lunch) had a fab afternoon trying the different baths and painting each other with volcanic mud. Eventually our skin was too wrinkled for any more warm baths and we then had a delightful time with a mohito and our books whilst we awaited the bus. 

Back at our hotel, we read a little (whilst Layla sobered up, lightweight that she is) before going out in the evening for really excellent pizzas (I know, not very Costa Rican but they were delicious).  I had my first nice glass of wine since coming to the country and all in all it was a delightful evening and a fine end to our time in La Fortuna.

In which Layla and Roz play dominoes in a Costa Rica park, and hike round a volcano

By Layla

It feels ages since we had a proper holiday so when we landed in San Jose, Costa Rica on Saturday, Roz and I breathed a sigh of delight - and then trepidation. We were spending the first day in San Jose itself and by all accounts this is a slightly alarming city lacking in charm. Perhaps it's just because we have been to worse cities (I'm talking about you, San Salvador!) but we unexpectedly found it rather nice! After arriving at our hotel, we walked to the nearby National Theatre. Costa Ricans apparently love theatre - there are a large number of theatres in the San Jose but the National Theatre is widely acknowledged as the best building in the country. Sure enough it was attractive, and sported a nice cafe where some smoothies and carrot cake welcomed us to the city properly. Afterwards, we strolled up a few streets to Parque Morazan.  I'd read that every Saturday the city puts on a 'love our city' festival thing in several parks around town but I hadn't imagined the extent of it. It was as though the city council has sat down, tried to imagine everything that's fun, and put it all in a park for everyone to enjoy for free. There was ping pong. Table football. Hula hoops (being enjoyed by all ages and genders). Chess. Scrabble. Draughts. Dominoes. A popular drum circle. Stilts to try. People dressed up in puppet-ish costumes accompanied by bands as they strolled around the park dancing with passers by. Cake to buy. Little tents where you could model elaborate things out of clay or plasticine, or build your own table football out of cardboard. Roz and I partook in some hula hooping, dominoes, table football, stilts (attempt only) and cake-eating, alongside the locals. It was quite delightful. 

We popped in to the Contemporary art museum in a cool big warehouse type space and had a quick look at their random exhibitions including a strangely transfixing video of people playing musical chairs... And then headed up to one of the city's hippest art/design/coffeeshop/restaurant venues, Kalu, and positioned ourselves there with our books for the rest of the day. En route home, we popped into a random bar for a final beer, and then home to bed, musing that Costa Rica prices are the same as DC prices. Alas. But otherwise: an excellent start to our holiday!

The next day we braved the public bus to La Fortuna. We'd heard a few stressful things about this bus but arrived perfectly after 4 1/2 hours and celebrated with veggie wraps and strawberry juice before locating our hotel on the outskirts of town. That afternoon we took a taxi to a waterfall and climbed the nearly 500 steps down. Really fun to be surrounded by jungle, and the waterfall was delightful. Afterwards we cabbed into town and settled down with our books in a coffeeshop, then the Lava Lounge for dinner, before walking all the way home. In the dark. Cab next time, perhaps...

Yesterday we had an early breakfast then tried to catch an apparently non-existent bus to Arenal Volcano national park. Luckily another couple was trying to do the same thing so we split a cab and soon found ourselves strolling (in torrential rain) along cool, beautiful little trails around Arenal volcano. The rain went off eventually (well it IS a rainforest so we can't really complain) and we climbed up lava, and looked at big colorful birds and plants and a giant ceiba tree and beautiful views. Til we found ourselves back at the rangers' station, approaching lunchtime, with no lunch options. The Arenal Observatory, an ex-Smithsonian-observatory-current-fancy-hotel, was a mere 8km away. In the now blazing sunshine. Thankfully passing drivers gave us a lift most of the way there but our skin went decidedly red in the sun! 

We were delighted to have lunch at last in an absolutely amazing spot overlooking the volcano. And then we saw the monitor of the volcano's activity and duly reassured, set off on more hiking trails (yes our legs are now exhausted!). The trails were lovely - one through rainforest, the other over hanging bridges, over a hanging bridge, and through beautiful farmland. All in the lovely sunshine. What an excellent day of hiking. 

We then shared a taxi with some others and headed to one of the area's big draws: volcanic hot springs! Our resort, Ecothermales, was one of many, and it was a delight. They had four volcanically-heated pools, some waterfalls, and we got there as night fell and little lights shone amongst the jungle foliage. We drank cocktails with little umbrellas and jumped into colder and hotter pools, and it all felt very cool and luxurious and quirky and lovely. Sadly I got too hot, so spent the rest of the evening lying on my bed under the air conditioner... But it was a lovely evening. 

This morning we're about to head off white water rafting. Wish us luck! 

In which Layla and Roz do Las Vegas

By Layla

Neither Roz nor I have ever harboured a great dream to visit Las Vegas. But with my father's birthday approaching, and my parents' trip to visit imminent, the subject was shyly broached by them. Las Vegas for my father's 60th birthday? If he dreamed it, we could make it come true! And so one chilly Wednesday my parents and I waved goodbye to Roz (who was joining us the next night after work) and boarded a plane, Las Vegas bound, and ready for a proper Las Vegas experience!

When our taxi dropped us off at our hotel, it was clear we weren't in DC any more. Nor, despite the name and theme of the hotel, were we in New York New York. As soon as we set foot in the lobby our eyes were assailed by the neon whirl of a thousand slot machines. We fought our way through to the reception desk, gratefully picked our key, and wound our way round gamblers and diners and revelers to the elevator. Ah, serenity (apart from the roller coaster directly outside our window...). I had no sooner leapt into my pajamas when the birthday boy looked at me, aghast. "Aren't we going to explore?"

Outdoor clothes back in situ, we wandered around the hotel, through a fake Greenwich Village street, past a bar with dueling pianos and up onto a walkway across the Strip. In one direction: The Eiffel Tower. In the other direction: an Egyptian pyramid. In every direction: neon. It was quite a sight. We then approached the machines and distinguished ourselves as the only people in Las Vegas who couldn't master a slot machine. We did manage the roulette machine though, which was fun, and I vowed to try it on a real table before the minibreak's end. Duly sated, at 3am DC time, we retired to bed just as the party was getting underway.

The next day, fueled by a tasty breakfast in an American diner-themed restaurant, we hit the Strip. First stop: Excalibur Hotel for some gambling lessons. However, the hotel was quite sad and dingy. It wasn't the Las Vegas glamour we were hoping for. And so we didn't stay for the lesson. Instead we crossed the road and walked up the Strip, past people dressed in cartoon or sexy costumes, seeking photographs for tips, and a lot of people trying to sell dad women for sex, despite him clearly being with his wife. I mused how depressing a job it would be to stand on a street corner wearing a t-shirt that promised to deliver a girl to your room in under 20 minutes. It was a bit like Blackpool or Magaluf set along each side of a motorway. We really hadn't got a grip of Las Vegas...

Luckily we soon came upon some of the fancier hotels and popped in to take a look. They're massive, glamorous, and have various attractions to entertain the masses. First up, the famous Bellagio. The fountains don't start dancing til about 3:30 so we had coffee in an Italian cafe, admired their conservatory which had an impressive Chinese New Year botanical display, and peeked at their high-limit gamblers... But other than scantily clad waitresses and some classy decor, the main focus was the casino which was not dissimilar to the casinos everywhere else. Next door Caesar's Palace boasted an impressive exterior and a pleasant sea horse aquarium inside, but otherwise, yup, more semi-identical casino action. Though they had a roulette machine with a 25c minimum. Much fun was had! Next door was the Mirage, which was quite nice. Another identical casino. And a nice little coffeeshop where we had a pleasant little lunch and grumbled that the hotels weren't as dazzling as we'd expected. Then we crossed the road to the Venetian, and took it all back. They have a brilliant reconstruction of some Venice streets with a canal running through them, complete with gondoliers under a convincing blue sky. We were impressed. Also exhausted, so we wound our way back down the Strip and through New York for a pre-dinner lie down.

Revived, we headed on a free tram to the Mandalay Bay hotel, and a cool bar (The Mix) on the 64th floor. We got there for happy hour and sipped cocktails while gazing right down the Strip. In the dark with all the lights below, it looked stunning and crazy and exciting. But dinner awaited. We dashed down to an Irish bar only to find a 45 minute wait for tables. On a Thursday night? We tried somewhere else. Same story. We wound our way round about 1000 people standing in line for a show. And had to surmise Las Vegas doesn't depend on weekends for its business! We ended up in Luxor, a hotel which has some fun themed stuff outside, a bit more downtrodden inside, but is home to one of the famous Las Vegas buffets. We decided to go for it! The less said about my consumption there, the better!

On our return to New York New York we started playing the blackjack machines, and were both impressed and bitter that the woman next to us won $800! We won $0 but we looked like we were having more fun... Then my parents went to bed, Roz arrived, and we finished the evening with prosecco at the central bar in the hotel casino - as you do - and a stroll to see the lights of the Strip.

The next day we were up at an ungodly hour for my father's birthday and the pinnacle of the trip: a visit to the Grand Canyon. After lots of research we'd decided to go with a company called Grand Adventures to the West Rim and it turned out to be an excellent choice. Only a few hours of driving in total and we got to see the Hoover Dam, go on the Skywalk (overhyped bit of glass sticking out over the canyon) and visit two different, absolutely spectacular look out points. The views were amazing and we were duly impressed with the Grand Canyon. We capered about taking silly photos, and Roz and I climbed a little hill. The freezing weather suddenly got sunny and nice. The different light reflected off the rocks. We sang a birthday song mum had written for dad, with the best backdrop in family song history. And on the way home, we stopped off at the iconic Welcome to Las Vegas sign. A brilliant day trip.

Of course the evening was not over! We dolled up and walked up to the Paris themed hotel and had an excellent birthday dinner at Mon Ami Gabon - highly recommended. And then crossed the road to watch the famous dancing fountains at last. Which were really cool and impressive and worth seeing. I marched everyone up to the Mirage to see the 'volcano' exploding but sadly it was further than I remembered and we missed it. So instead we took Roz to see the Venetian and had an uncanny prosecco in St Mark's Square before we got a taxi home.

Breakfast in the America diner, a little digital roulette (we won $21!!) and them it was off to the very nice Lemongrass restaurant in the Aria hotel to meet a family friend and have a tasty Thai lunch. Afterwards, we hopped in a cab to Las Vegas's arts district, in pursuit of where the cool locals hang out. We had a drink at the Arts Factory and bought some jewelry in their arty little shops, before proceeding up to what's known as 'old Las Vegas', or Fremont Street. We admired the neon over Starbucks, pottered into a couple of casinos (same as all the rest), and I steered us to an empty roulette table where a very grumpy croupier tolerated us, we won none of Dad's $10 back, but we had a fun if intimidating time... Luckily then Roz found us another casino with an old fashioned horse derby with plastic horses, that not only took quarters but paid out in actual cash instead of uninspiring coupons. We settled down and placed our bets. And every time we won something, quarters clanked pleasingly into our winnings bucket. Very satisfactory. And then we leapt up and back into the street for the hourly light show. Essentially the street has a roof made out of a television type screen and they turn off all the external lights, everyone looks up, and you get a 6 minute or so show to music which is hard to explain but quite lovely and impressive and odd and Las Vegas-ish. We were very happy to have seen it, even as we bundled poor dad into a taxi with a fever afterwards.

Dad didn't make it to the Italian dinner in our hotel, but he did revive for our show, Zumanity - the sensual side of Cirque de Soleil. I must emphasize that this was my parents' show of choice. But while quite saucy, it was funny and very impressive, with some brilliant acrobatics, and we all really enjoyed it.

The next day we had a breakfast buffet and pottered around the hotel, with a last sneaky bit of roulette before it was time for Roz and me to go to the airport, and my parents to settle in at a cinema nearby to see the Wolf of Wall Street as Roz and I soared homewards.

So, we did Las Vegas. It was odd. Exciting. Exhilarating. Funny. Sad. A bit weird. A bit out of my league. And a very appropriate way to spend my father's 60th. Though I feel no personal need to ever return. Another US icon conquered. Thank goodness my parents were there to protect me in the chaos!

In which Layla and Roz spend Thanksgiving in New Orleans

ByLayla

As Roz and I prepare to leave after a four day New Orleans mini break over Thanksgiving, I can only say: what a revelation. A really fascinating experience.

We were a little horrified to find that our hotel Le Pavillion, while lovely, was smack bang in the middle of the commercial business district, as opposed to the famed French Quarter, where everyone tends to stay when in New Orleans. Indeed, apparently many tourists never stray beyond the French Quarter's charming-balconies-and-copious-alcohol confines at all. Luckily it was a mere 10 minute walk from our hotel, and upon arrival on Wednesday evening, we wrapped up as warmly as possibly in the unexpectedly freezing night, and headed straight to the heart of it all. Our destination: The Green Goddess, one of the very few restaurants in the city that welcomes vegetarians. It wasn't a very glamorous joint, but its rag tag clientele gave a forewarning of New Orleans style. Think steam punk. People wear top hats, other big hats, sticky out black skirts, big black coats... There is a serious, unique style and identity to New Orleans' inhabitants as a whole that is quite unlike anything we've experienced elsewhere in the US.

After dinner we walked across the famous Bourbon Street just as it was getting ready for its nightly drunken extravaganza of neon and strong cocktails - including 'cocktails to go' as the norm! We popped round to a quiet corner and drank some amazing cocktails (not to-go) at French 75. Then we went to another cocktail bar, the Swizzle Stick bar, and found even better craft cocktails. This was amazing: that New Orleans is famed for its cocktail finesse had somehow eluded us both. We got back to the hotel just in time for free hot chocolate, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches - and a very good first impression of New Orleans. 

Bright and early the next day, we headed to The Camellia Grill for a delicious if simple local Thanksgiving breakfast amidst the boisterous New Orleans regulars, before joining a free walking tour of the French Quarter. The streets feel like nowhere else we've been in America. All the buildings are brightly painted. There is wrought iron everywhere, beautiful balconies, uneven pavements - a bit like being in Spanish colonial cities in central and South America (think Cartagena). Sure enough, despite being called the French Quarter, the city was briefly given from France to Spain - during which time the city pretty much burnt down and was rebuilt by the Spanish. It was soon thereafter demanded back by Napoleon, who later sold it to the US (the famed Louisiana Purchase - though Louisiana in those days was a third of the size of the whole US).

The walking tour was excellent and gave us a real feel for how the city has evolved. Lots of fascinating detail around the slave trade - New Orleans originally treated their slaves comparatively ok, eg Sundays off to do what they wanted, unsupervised, the opportunity to choose to work more for pay, and the option to buy their own freedom. Hence the city was full of free black people, including some who owned slaves themselves. Everyone was fine with this. Then when the Jim Crow laws started to emerge, New Orleans, long before Rosa Parks, was scandalized, and protested by having a respected man who was 1/8 African get a ticket for the white carriage of the segregated train and after boarding, announce his racial origins, leading to a Supreme Court case that brought the segregation to general attention... But sadly had the opposite effect from that intended - it reinforced The laws. The New Orleans folk seem extremely proud of their heritage, and being Creole (being descendants of European settlers), with African blood. The city feels very racially diverse, and separate from the rest of the US. And a key thing that seems to unite them is feeling disparaging about everyone who isn't from New Orleans! 

After lunch in the pleasant, slightly stuffy Cafe Palace, we took our first streetcar. Apparently New Orleans once had loads of streetcars, including a streetcar named Desire! (Indeed, we visited the house where Tennessee Williams wrote that play. We also heard that the proper pronunciation was Desiree, after the daughter of a plantation owner...). we were on a mission: our walking tour guide had told us that the thing to do in New Orleans on Thanksgiving afternoon was to go to the racetrack. So off we trundled, by streetcar and then a walk, and there it was. Sure enough, everyone was out, and in their best steam punk style finery - including some very fine hats. This was clearly the cool local thing to do. we joined eclectic locals in viewing the horses, then we muscled in right down to the finish line and joined the cool-hatted-spectators in shouting for the horses. We failed to formally bet, but Roz was smug when 'her' horse won... At which point it was so cold we installed ourselves in the grandstand inside without chocolate, and cheered vigorously. What a cool Thanksgiving tradition - and an excellent first horse racing experience. 

Upon returning to town, we installed ourselves in Cafe du Monde, a New Orleans tradition, were we had the obligatory beignets - delicious churros/donut type items which were delicious, if not diet-friendly. We sat outside, right by the route of the Thanksgiving parade, and cheered along with everyone else as Marching Bands and like like put on a fine display of US-style parading. According to our tour guide from earlier, there are over 500 festivals in New Orleans and most of them involve alcohol and parades. So they're very good at it! After the parade we walked up to the Mississippi River for a riverside stroll before a pleasant dinner in a Spanish restaurant, looking out at the twinkly lights of the river. 

Next up we hopped in a taxi to Rock 'n' Bowl. This was absolutely brilliant. There was live music, and everyone was up dancing. And during the dancing, the waiters handed out hula hoops. Roz and I seized two, and we spent a happy time twirling - Roz for the first time! (The next day our waist muscles were agony!) Then we played bowling - which Roz won. Grrr. And ping pong. And finally we joined the dancing - what a fantastic night out! If that was nearer my home, I'd be there every week!

The next morning, despite it still being freezing, we started the day with a swim in the heated rooftop pool, to earn our delicious brunch at Ruby Slipper, one of the first new businesses since Hurricane Katrina, and immensely popular. Afterwards, we strolled down to the warehouse district for some gallery hopping along Julia Street, before taking the old and scenic St Charles streetcar out of the French/Creole part of town and up into the Garden District, the American part of town - in fact the streetcar tracks are historically considered 'neutral grounds' as when the 'Americans' tried to move in after the Louisiana Purchase, they found the Creoles did not welcome them. After a delightful potter in a local bookshop, we took a second free walking tour, around the local cemetery and beautiful huge old houses. I was intrigued to hear that Louisiana has the biggest revenue from the movie industry outside of Hollywood as it is so often used in film settings! In fact lots of celebrities also live in this area. We passed by John Goodman's house, and Sandra Bullock's house, and heard how post-Katrina, Brad Pitt set up a charity to build houses for families who had owned and lost theirs, leading to a campaign for Brad Pitt to be mayor of New Orleans. It was also interesting to hear about all the mad societies people from New Orleans belong to, and how being eccentric/insane is very much appreciated and nurtured and celebrated in the city. It really seems a culture like no other...

After the tour (and tomato soup...in an ice cream shop) we walked to our next destination: Freret. It was remarkable and disconcerting that 2 blocks from the amazing stately homes there was a big rundown housing estate. We walked rapidly and reassuringly got to Freret before nightfall. This is a small but funky area with some cool bars and coffee shops. We idled reading in a coffee shop, then had more superlative cocktails - and cheese to match - in a very cool bar which I think was called Core. Next some adequate Japanese food in Origami, and thence to the event of the evening: Comedysportz. This comedy/improv show happens every weekend and involves two comedy teams 'competing' in various improv games. It was a bit weird, not blessed with extravagant audience numbers, but cute and well meaning and surprisingly funny. We had a fun time. 

We'd planned to return to Core for another cocktail but in our absence it's loveliness had transformed into a very loud and packed party ambience, so we walked back to the streetcar stop and headed into the French Quarter to a bar called Carousel that was modeled on a carousel and hence sounded very cool. However, if we had been trying to flee party ambience, we'd done it wrong! The bar was just on the outskirts of the French Quarter but it was nuts. The streets were seething with partiers, each clutching a cocktail-to-go, in huge plastic, novelty-shaped receptacles, often with a special strap to tote it round their necks. Music blared. Neon flashed. Everyone was dressed like an Essex girl. There was no hope of getting a seat at the bar. We had a quick and disappointing cocktail before returning, feeling both relieved and old, to our quiet and grown up hotel. 

Amazingly, after two days of shivering in coats, gloves, and every layer of clothing we could manage, it was a lovely sunny warm day on Saturday, and we had booked a bike tour! A quick breakfast, onto our cruiser bikes, and we were off. We've never done so many tours, but New Orleans is so palpably about the history of the people who have lived there since the French times that it seemed somehow right - and really fascinating. The guide the day before had joked she had only been in New Orleans for most of her life and was thus not really qualified to run a tour; today's guide gave the impression that her concerns were justified. Apparently many people in New Orleans will never leave it in their lifetime - it's a flat city and they built a hill artificially so that children would know what a hill was. It's that sort of place. The bike tour took us to see yet another side of New Orleans - the Creole bit. We crossed Esplanade and suddenly the vibe was different- more bohemian, poorer, different architecture, lots of houses that had been submerged during Katrina still bearing the brands that indicate they were searched during the rescue operations, and whether any dead were found. We went through Faubourg Marigny, then Bywater, where we peeked into a path leading to a voodoo temple. Then up to City Park and along the Bayou water, and through Congo Square, the birthplace of jazz (the place where slaves once congregated on Sundays). It was an enlightening tour.

After a delicious and excessive Lebanese lunch, we headed back up to the beautiful City Park, the weather now glorious, wandered through a very cool sculpture garden, and played a round of mini golf - very fun! And then returned to Swizzle Stick Bar for more delicious cocktails. We spent that evening seeing The Book Thief at a cool cinema where the seats are huge leather almost-armchairs, there's a comprehensive snacky food menu, and you can summon a waitress by pressing a discrete button. And polished it all off at WINO, aka the Wine Institute of New Orleans where we fled the growing Saturday night chaos of the French Quarter (the streets surrounding it were lined with waiting police vans, which seemed a bad omen). WINO was very cool - we were issued with a wine card which we could insert into machines and pour ourselves variously sized measures of huge numbers of wines. Great fun. And I was pleased to end the night with hot chocolate in our hotel!

On our final day, after an early morning swim and another delicious brunch at Ruby Slipper, we took the streetcar up to City Park again for some paddle boarding. So bizarre: two days ago our teeth had been chattering with cold; today we stepped onto paddle boards with bare feet and t-shirts! It was a beautiful day, and the Bayou is perfect for paddle boarding. We had some thrills floating under low bridges on our stomachs, and enjoyed the cool scenery and general paddleboarding cheeriness, and afterwards retired to the New Orleans Museum of Art. We've been to better art museums, but there were some cool things to see, and a lovely cafe for lunch... A final stroll in the beautiful sculpture garden and then it was time to call a taxi. What a cool mini break. Miss you, New Orleans!

In which Roz and Layla paddleboard in a lagoon (and do not stand on their heads)

By Roz

After two happy hour mohitos in Casa Violetta, we decided it was more than time for dinner, and we headed back to Zebra, where we had been on our first night, to have their delicious pepper, potato and cheese dish. We wolfed this down as though we hadn't been fed for ages (the excitements of the day had clearly made us hungry) and then headed back to Casa Violetta for a nightcap and dessert. Only this time as we walked along the beach we began to notice that the ground was alive with crabs. I'm not sure how we had managed to miss this the first few times we'd been on the beach at night, but it certainly made this romantic wander home less romantic (and more focused on suppressing embarrassing shrieks). But all in all it was a very jolly evening. 

Next morning, we were up early. Again. Layla, you see, doesn't believe in lie-ins. Our alarm went off and I began with my usual tactic of suggesting she shower first. I have now perfected this to such a degree that I don't actually have to wake up to do it. Her second attempt to wake me (after she'd showered, at the late hour of 6.55) I had little option but to crawl out of bed. But I must admit it was for a good cause: our plan was to go paddleboarding and we'd been told that we needed to get there early. And so we had an early morning romantic march along the beach in time for a quick breakfast overlooking the sea before hopping in a car with a very nice Mexican guy (who'd lived in Brighton for a year and missed fish and chips!) who was to take us out paddleboarding for the morning. A not very long drive took us to a lovely lagoon - part of the national park that we'd been to on our first full day in Tulum - and then it was time to hop on to the boards for a very lovely, serene paddle round the lagoon. It was fun to have the place entirely to ourselves, and even better to find that - despite the small waves - we were still able to stay upright. We had a mini lesson half way through on how to handle boards in the sea - which ended up with Layla and I almost being able to do a small jump to change our foot position. Layla wussed out of doing a headstand on the board, despite my best efforts to goad her into doing one (blackmail and so forth) but otherwise it was really fun. The water was perfectly clear, there were tons of fish and we were entirely surrounded by jungle. After a while, we slipped into the water (me carefully keeping my hat on to protect the burn from the sun) and pottered around for a while looking at fish - and waiting for them to nibble at us (as we had been told they might) - and contemplating the 80ft hole in the middle of the lagoon, created by a meteorite and where some believe there is a spaceship. Fortunately, however, there was no sign of either of Martians, nor of the small crocodiles that we'd heard could also sometimes be seen. 

Out of the water and headed towards the car, we had the brainwave of persuading our guide to take us to a nearby-ish cenote. This turned out to be fab. Much bigger than we expected, there was a few different pools, all connected by caves and channels and it was fun to swim through and explore them. Layla had a snorkel mask which meant she was able to steer us both away from random rocks (whilst I used my burn as a good excuse not to have a snorkel - I am an idiot and don't really like having my face into the water). The temperature of the sun and the water was perfect, and though there were some other tourists kicking around, none of them spoke English which made them less objectionable! 

It was then time to return for drinks and then lunch, with lovely ocean breezes to keep us cool. I, however, was so transfixed by my book (Goldfinch, the new Donna Tartt) that I was barely able to look up from my book to eat (or look at the sea). Eventually Layla persuaded me that it was time to go in the sea. We'd hoped to take out paddleboards but our guy from the morning wasn't around any longer. But in searching for him, it emerged that the restaurant was willing to lend us boogie boards - which was almost better. We bounded down to the beach and into the sea...and then noticed we were pretty much alone. One look up at the sky told us why - it was almost black, with a storm clearly on its way. We agreed that we'd stay close to the shore but decided to press on anyway. (This turned out to be a perfectly sensible decision, since we were later joined by an over ambitious paddleboarder and some swimmers - and the rain never made it to shore.) We had a lot of fun trying to catch waves with our boogieboards, despite the fact that we usually failed, and were out until we were pretty much exhausted. We shared a beer and briefly returned to our books before heading home sandily for a shower. 

We headed out for the evening feeling virtuous, having just packed, and went back to Casa Violetta for one of their delicious mohitos and some guacamole. With delight I returned to my book and quite some time passed before we both realized that we were getting hungry - and felt completely shattered after our exertions during the day. We shamefacedly decided to stick where we were for dinner rather than being more adventurous. But we had a lovely meal and managed to keep ourselves entertained until 9 or so when we decided to give in and slowly make our way home. Not a very magnificent last night in lovely Tulum, but we enjoyed ourselves! 

I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. But I was woken in the night by the loudest rain I have ever heard. The storm that had been threatening us whilst we were on the beach had finally arrived. This meant we woke up (6.30 alarm again!) to a very sodden town. We splashed our way along the road to the lovely place we had had breakfast on our anniversary morning and ate breakfast with a fairly cheerful air, congratulating ourselves at leaving Mexico at exactly the right moment. From there, we headed to the bus and I returned to my audiobook (which I am also transfixed by) and gazed at the rain as we passed through the countryside. And now: home.

Books read by Layla whilst on holiday: Pigs in Heaven (Barbara Kingsolver), Entries from a Hot Pink Notebook (Todd D Brown), Oryx and Crake (Margaret Atwood), A Cure for Dreams (Kaye Gibbons), and half of The Year of the Flood (Margaret Atwood). 

Books read by Roz whilst on holiday: Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden), Oryx and Crake (Margaret Atwood), The Room of lost Things (Stella Duffy), Tepper Isn't Going Out (Calvin Trillin), Mr Penumbra's 24 Hour Bookstore (Robin Sloan) and 3/4 of both Goldfinch (Donna Tartt) and The Year of the Flood (Margaret Atwood). 

In which Layla and Roz celebrate their wedding anniversary in a mangrove channel

By Layla

A two and a half hour bus ride through the dark countryside brought us to a very different-feeling Mexico: Tulum. Having done lots of research of Caribbean beaches in Mexico, I decided Tulum sounded the right mix of beautiful, bohemian, and non-18-30s-drunken tackiness a la Cancun reputation... And it proved to be so. I don't like arriving at beach places at night, because as our taxi drove us from Tulum town, several miles in complete blackness, I feared we'd found ourselves in some awful abandoned place. But after checking in (and realizing we'd left all our toiletries in the last hotel and dashing to a little shop to replenish and mourn the loss of Roz's hair product...) we headed down to the beach. We couldn't see the sea, but the sand was soft under our feet, the waves lapped at the shore, and the stars were amazing. We walked along the beach to a beachside restaurant called Zebra, drank mohitos, ate chilli poblado, which was delicious, and after sheltering from a sudden and short rainstorm, strolled home along the beach.

The next day was our 4-year wedding anniversary (indeed, also the 4-year anniversary of this blog!) and we had booked a tour Tripadvisor reviews had assured us would be romantic - a boat tour through a beautiful nature reserve dotted with birds, mangroves, and Mayan ruins, called Sia'an Kaan. Off we puttered in our little boat across the lagoon and into the mangrove channels, watching the water turn from blue to brown-ish to black to yellow-ish to clear... At which point we were told to hop out of the boat into the crystal water of the mangrove channel, and use our life jackets as floatation devices. For 20 minutes, we lazed on our life jackets as the current slowly but determinedly pulled us through the channel. Roz and I were at the front so all we could see was the water, the greenery, blue skies, and an occasional heron. It was both idyllic and bizarrely delightful - we were very sad when it eventually ended, we reluctantly clambered aboard the boat, and were conveyed back to dry land for lunch overlooking the Caribbean. 

We spent the afternoon swinging in hammocks, reading, and drinking the anniversary bottle of wine given to us by the hotel. When it got dark we headed over the road to Om bar for less-good-than-last-night mohitos, before taking a cab to Restaurare, a well-reviewed vegan restaurant, of all things. It was in a beautiful jungly/twinkly candles location, and other than their food being so spicy I could hardly eat it, had a very nice time. We returned to Om - for beers this time - and ended the evening lying on a beach lounger, listening to the waves, and gazing up at the stars - with me yet again impressing Roz by identifying Orion's Belt... 

A comparative long lie this morning, in honour of a day without a strict schedule - and then a tedious hour trying to make Paypal work for a course I was trying to sign up for - and eventually we set off for a beachwalk and ruins day of fun. It was lovely and gloriously picturesque walking several kilometers along the beach, our feet in the lapping waves. We stopped off at a nice beach restaurant for breakfast, then later as the heat started to crush us, a cool beach club for guacamole, beers, a book, a breeze, and lots of water. We gazed out at the sea (and someone doing a hula hoop dance) before hopping in a cab for the final leg of our journey. At last we arrived: the Tulum ruins!

These ruins are apparently the second most visited in Mexico but we arrived sufficiently late that most of the bikini-clad tourists from Cancun and Playa del Carmen had got back on their coaches, and it was fairly relaxing to stroll around these ruins which, while less impressive in scale than Uxmal and Chichen Itza, were interesting, had some cool structures, and gave a nice impression of a real little Mayan town in a beautiful seaside location. We paused by the viewpoint, enjoying watching a woman on a paddleboard on the waves trying to do a headstand and feeling nervous about the paddleboard adventure we're planning for tomorrow (no headstands in our plan though...). 

On the way back from the ruins we stopped off at a beach club where we hopped into the sea and spent the rest of the afternoon jumping in the quite substantial waves, before strolling home along the beach, watching the sunset. We are now de-sanded and installed in another beachside bar where we are enjoying basil mohitos and the sound of the waves. All quite delightful.