Tag Archives: Holiday

A new and exciting place to visit.

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On our trip south we needed a place to stay for a night between Villefranche-Sur-Mer and our cottage.  We wanted to avoid the big cities like Torino and Milano and so, once again, Trip Advisor was tasked with finding a place.  More accurately Jean using Trip Advisor was tasked with finding a place.

On the Portofino coast a hotel called Cenobio Dei Dogi caught Jean’s attention and met our standard requirements of parking and dogs welcomed.

It was quite expensive – even with a discounted rate – but this was offset by free parking (it can be as much as €25 a night at some places) and no charge for the girls (which can also be as much as €15 a night each).

Finding the hotel which is situated right on the waters edge was a challenge as leaving the highway, which is high above the water, meant winding down the hill using the usual maze of one way streets and switchback roads that is typical of driving along the Italian Coast.  Some of the roads are so close together and the switchbacks so tight that our Tom Tom GPS navigation system couldn’t tell which of two roads we were on.  This is a recipe for wrong turns and the occasional wrong way up a one way street.  Being Italy this type of thing warrants a blast on the horn from fellow motorists followed by a wave of the hand once you extricate the car and get back on track.  You get the feeling even the locals have trouble on occasions.

Jean’s visit to Trip Advisor had given us an idea of what to expect but the reality far exceeded our expectations.  The hotel was built in the late 50s or early 60s and that classic character has been retained.  You are half expecting movie stars like Cary Grant or Sophia Loren to sweep into the bar or out on to the terrace for a pre-dinner aperitif.

We wiled away the afternoon on the Terrace, overlooking the Ligurian Sea enjoying a drink or two.  The service was immaculate and friendly.  When our waiter found out one of our dogs was called Poppie there was much amusement.  He explained that Poppi was the name of his fellow waiter and this became an ongoing joke for the rest of the afternoon.

Hotel Cenobio Dei Dogi will be our last taste of hotel luxury for a while as our next stop is Tuscany and our new home.

View looking north from the terrace with morning coffee in progress.

Dogs in hotels, bars and restaurants

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The concept of taking our girls into a bar or restaurant in Wellington is inconceivable.  Here it is the accepted norm, in fact hotel and bar staff are quite surprised that we would even ask if it is possible. “But of course” was the standard response matched with a look of surprise.

So for the last week (and in the UK also) the girls have learnt about eating out. We always thought that Poppie would be good around other people, food, noise and the bustle of a bar or restaurant.  We weren’t quite so sure about Daisy.

Our friend Andre nick-named her Walter (after grumpy Walter Mattau’s character Oscar in the TV series The Odd Couple) because she would sometimes greet him or the kids with a growl and a nip at any hand that was in reach.  It’s fair to say Daisy isn’t good with people.

In a bar or restaurant she potentially was dynamite.  And the first times we went into assorted pubs in the UK she had her moments – and a fair bit of time out on the street being walked up and down to cool off.  On one occasion she exceeded herself and christened the pub carpet but, as someone pointed out, it was no worse than what happened to the carpet on a Friday night anyway.

By France she had the whole thing under her belt (or should that be collar) and no matter whether it was a half full local bar or a packed fine dining restaurant she behaved herself perfectly.

Up to a point.  The only thing we have to master now with Daisy is other dogs.  Daisy plus any strange dog means chaos because Daisy clearly thinks she’s a German Shepherd.  She has no fear of other dogs and barks and snarls at them, anytime, anywhere.

It’s good we have something to work on over the next few months.

Next – Italy

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Good weather has followed us through France and we are now relaxing – even more than usual – on the Cote d’Azur at our favourite Cote d’Azur hotel – Hotel Welcome at Villefranche-Sur-Mer.

The view from our room at Hotel Welcome.

In the last four days we have driven the length of France from Calais to Nice with stops at Lille, a rather special Chateau in the Champagne region which warrants a post of its own, and in Lyon.

Our trusty Peugeot has served us well and is now covered in a broad selection of French bugs and insects.  It has used two tanks of gazoil (diesel) – at about twice the price of diesel in New Zealand so don’t complain about high petrol prices folks. We have overtaken about 10,000 trucks on the trip and been overtaken by about the same number of flying Porsches, Audis and BMWs.

We are now only a day or so away from our home for the next 6 months and are looking forward to settling into a place for longer than one night and being able to unpack properly.

Invading Europe

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It was as simple as driving to Folkestone, flashing our passports at a seriously un-interested french customs officer sitting in a little booth and boarding the channel tunnel train.

Onboard the Chunnel Train.

Thirty five minutes later you drive off at Calais and head into Europe. Importantly remembering to drive on the other side of the road.

Bon Jour France.

Heading South

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Tomorrow we are departing English shores for the continent.  We’ve had a fantastic time with Gill and Andre and the kids who have really looked after us.  We will miss them terribly.  The good news is that we meet up with them again in July in Tuscany for a week.

Poppie making sure she isn't left behind.

Heading south means taking our car – the mighty Peugeot 308 wagon – through the channel tunnel by train and then driving south to Lille where we will spend the night. From there it’s a bit of an adventure until we get to Tuscany sometime later in the week.

Blog post regularity may suffer a little depending on access to the interweb, but please keep watching.

Friday 29 April – Just another day in the UK

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The papers the day of the wedding.

Well not really.  That wedding is on and the whole country has been given the day off and intends to make the most of it.  The team at Peers Drive, Aspley Guise are heading to the local village of Woburn (in the shadow of Woburn Abbey) to watch the wedding at the Black Horse pub.

The pub had gone out of it’s way to make people welcome and when we arrived it was full of locals – some dressed in their best frocks and hats or Sunday suits – watching proceedings on the big TV mounted in the corner of the bar.

Jean explaining the nuances of the dress to 11 year old Josh.

Once again the English proclivity for patriotism and pomp and circumstance meant the whole pub joined in to sing Jerusalem and God Save the Queen.

Union Jack flags, hats and bowties were handed out to anyone who wanted to look suitably silly.  And the plastic tiaras went down a treat with our ladies, as did many glasses champagne, of course.

The lads tended to show their support for the wedding from a distance – the length of the bar to be precise – and marked significant milestones in the ceremony with a series of celebratory pints.

Locals enjoying the show. Although the Queen Mum doesn't look too happy.

We ended the day with lunch at the pub and then home for endless TV replays and a wee sleep on the couch.  Lovely.

Footnote: apparently 23 million Britons watched the wedding which, by my calculation, is about 1 in 3 people in the British Isles.

Sick Poppie

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Having got the dogs here and then having had them treated for various things that might affect them in the UK and Italy, Poppie’s body finally said  – enough.

One unhappy little dog

It was the most innocuous treatment – essentially an English version of Frontline – that proved the last straw and saw her transform from a happy little dog to a very agitated, unhappy and unwell dog in the space of 2 hours.

For the last 5 days she has only wanted to sit on someone’s lap or hide herself among the pillows on the bed.  The world has held no interest for her and she just wanted everyone to go away and let her be.

After 3 trips to vet and a total bill of £250, we were none the wiser but were armed with skin washes, antihistamines and antibiotics, all the things that might help.

But in the end it was time that did the trick.  But it’s fair to say we will be looking for an alternative treatment for fleas and other crawlies for Poppie in the future.

Rule Britannia

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April 23 is St Georges Day. A chance for the English to celebrate their patron saint – and their sheer englishness.

The team off to the St Georges Day Ball - the Puppy stayed home.

We were lucky enough to be invited to the local St Georges Day Ball which was held in Bedford, about 20 minutes from where we are staying.

It was a black tie affair and included a reading from Shakespeare’s Henry V, the parading of the roast beef by the chef and members of the local Queens Guards regiment, and the singing of Land of Hope and Glory, Jerusalem (an odd choice of song to celebrate England I thought), Rule Britannia and, of course, God save the Queen.

And when I say singing, I mean at the top of our voices and accompanied by frantic flag waving – St George’s crosses of course.  Anyone who walked in would have thought we had all been drinking – which we had.

The Parading of the Roast Beef - of course. On our feet for Rule Britannia

The serious side of the evening was fundraising for a local mental health charity, and the fun side was enjoying a level of patriotism that we Kiwis don’t really understand, mixed with some great Roast Beef and Yorkshire pudding and some fine company.

A very special thanks to our friend Andre who managed to squeeze us onto the guest list.

On our feet for Rule Britannia

The countryside is turning yellow.

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The fields around Aspley Guise are turning bright yellow.  The crop is Rapeseed (Canola Oil) and the flowers are an intense, intense yellow.  In a week or two it will be harvested and the land will again be shades of green and brown but right now it looks stunning.

The English countryside is glowing.

English living

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For the last week have been staying in our friends house in the village of Aspley Guise about 15 minutes outside Milton Keynes.

When we arrived, our friends Gill and Andre and their children Josh (11) and Jordan (5) were in New York on holiday but thanks to lifesaving instructions left by Gill we moved in and found our way around the house, the village and the local area.

In fact we were so well settled that when Gill and Andre and family returned on Friday, they were greeted by the dogs as if they were visitors in their own home with much barking, jumping and running around.  The dogs were delighted to see our friends, however the children were not so sure about seeing the dogs.  It wasn’t helped by Daisy corralling the kids in the corner of the kitchen.

Happily that phase is over and Jordan and Poppie are, apparently, now best friends.  To a casual observer that seems to involve Jordan sitting next to Poppie stroking her with Poppie simply enjoying the added attention.  The way things are going I’m quite expecting to see Poppie dressed up in a frock, wearing lipstick and with high heels on some time in the not to distant future.

The English spring continues to develop with leaves returning to the trees in the garden and a constant supply of spring flowers popping up in the garden unannounced.  The weather, which turned cold last week, is back on track for a warm summer and it’s shorts and T shirts weather at present.

With that, it seems like time to head off to the local farmers market for a look see.