It was last Christmas, 2015, when Dee opened an envelope containing her Christmas present which promised the Great Aurora Borealis hunt in February during a five-day trip to Iceland. Unfortunately, she was in the middle of chemotherapy again by the dates we intended to fly so we looked for the next best window to have a chance of catching the northern lights and it appeared that October would be best. We agonised throughout the year about whether we’d make it or not but we left Heathrow at one o’ clock on 12 October after a leisurely brunch in the lounge. At both ends the request for wheelchair assistance proved vital as not only were the distances considerable but when you are guided through the airport many queues are jumped, corners cut and arrival at the plane is so much easier. The flight was straightforward and we picked up our rental car via a shuttle bus with strict warnings about not driving on non-tarmacked road which might cause chips in the paintwork. There was also a brief discussion about football with our clerk being a Liverpool fan who was very pleased that Watford had just beaten Man United. He’d have been ecstatic if he’d known that in two weeks’ time Liverpool were to beat us 6-1! There was enough light for us to take in the volcanic landscapes as we headed towards Reykjavik’s ring road in order to head off east to our first hotel at Hella in the south of the island.
As the roads became less busy and we entered wilder territory we started to spot plumes of steam coming from the ground and while knowing that geysers existed all over Iceland having them erupt yards from the road was a bit of a surprise. There were also frequent waterfalls on our left – the hillier part of the landscape with a flat plain to our right stretching away to the coast. 
The hotel was well signposted and we checked in and were shown to a very pleasant room in the west wing of the log cabin like structure that was the Hotel Ranga. We unpacked, relaxed and then went to the bar for a beer and a cocktail. I was impressed by the range of craft beers – pale ale, red beer, wheat beers and stouts and Dee by the Icelandic vodka in her martini. Next morning we woke to appreciate the view over lawns with hot tubs and down to a river estuary.
We had little choice being so far from anywhere but to eat at the hotel’s restaurant. Fish, reindeer, lamb and puffin are the specialities but we couldn’t quite bring ourselves to eat a whole puffin so settled for wild mushroom soup and a duck salad as starters and then reindeer and arctic char as our mains. There was a very tempting Muga Reserva on the wine list but also a better value Rioja from Torres which was most acceptable. We were joined during our dinner by Fridrik Palsson, the owner who tries to chat to all guests during their stay in order to keep his customer service up to the mark. During a pleasant exchange of travel and service experiences he insisted that we try the smoked puffin which fortunately came in small slices a bit like smoked duck breast with beetroot sauce. Her stomach somewhat delicate anyway, Dee declined but I sampled this extraordinarily fishy tasting meat – but then puffins do just feed on fish so I guess it was only to be expected. Eating and drinking are not cheap in Iceland – no, nothing is cheap in Iceland – so we were thrilled to discover that our meal had been largely paid for by a mystery phone call from the UK which on investigation turned out to be from my daughter. What a lovely thought! Travel and food are tiring but on our way back to the room we nonetheless signed up for the Wake Me if the Aurora comes service whereby the night manager phones you if the skies clear and there’s a chance of a sighting – some guests clearly got lucky! As we’d driven through quite a lot of heavy rain dumped by the tail end of hurricane Matthew or maybe it was Nicole, we didn’t expect to be disturbed tonight. And so it proved and throughout our stay the skies remained unremittingly grey with not a glimmer of northern lights or even sunlight for that matter until our last day.
So maybe the skies weren’t playing ball but the geysers and waterfalls were not too far away so we spent the next day visiting Gulfoss and Geysir where the eponymous big gusher doesn’t do its stuff much anymore but Strokkur blasts 60 feet of steaming water into the air every six or ten minutes. Both the waterfalls and the geysers were impressive and well worth the rather chilly, damp visit.
The journey back was through some brilliant volcanic and mountain scenery with black lakes, sheer cliffs, waterfalls and lots of fumaroles.
After a very disturbed night our check out and departure saw a pale and delicate Dee climb into the car to make our way to a lunch time appointment at the Blue Lagoon something we had both been very keen to try but which now looked in some doubt. 
Fortified with paracetamol Dee perked up as the journey progress including overriding SatNav’s instructions and taking us through the Reykjanesfólkvangur Natural Park the splendid scenery and rock formations of which were viewed from a granite chip road so a little trepidation there about the state of the paint work, unfounded thank goodness thanks to my unusually cautious driving.
We made it to the Blue Lagoon and after a few problems and delays with crowded changing rooms and the insistence on naked showering prior to entry to the lagoon, we finally made it out into the 38° water with 4° in the air around our heads. It’s an amazing feeling and we were both very glad we’d persevered. The water feels like it contains lots of healthy minerals and indeed these are what give it its blue colour. Oh and they throw in these iPad photos as part of the entrance fee.
As always there were very tempting things in the gift shop at the usual eye-watering prices. We regained the car and headed off for Reykjavik where we were to spend three nights. The hotel was right in the centre of town – I suppose Hotel Reykjavik Centrum was a bit of a give-away – and there was a convenient pull-in just in front for us to unload and check in before I took the car back to the rental company before they closed at seven.
Our room was great with windows in the pointed tower that stood at the corner of the building. It also had a shower module into which all you need was packed into a very small space – inspiration for our thoughts about building a downstairs loo and shower room at home. I went back down to find chaos at the car. I was in a bus pull-in preventing a bus with thirty Americans from checking in. Oops! There was a ticket on the windscreen too which the rental company forwarded to me later – it was for a tenner! I drove off sheepishly towards the street name on the rental agreement which proved deep into the eastern suburbs beyond the ring road. There was a large shop and warehouse strip but no signs for Thrifty. There was an automotive parts store so I asked in there and they said there were some bays marked with Thrifty in the car park and I should put it in one of those and put the keys through the letterbox of the Toyota dealership. I duly did this more in hope than conviction and then walked to a nearby filling station to see if they could recommend a number to get a taxi back into town. They called a friendly cabbie who was coming in to fill up anyway and within five minutes we were heading back into the centre. Taxi drivers the world over like to grumble it seems and he was bemoaning the growth of Reykjavik swallowing up surrounding small towns in its sprawl, encouraging foreigners to come and take all the jobs and stag and hens parties who always argued drunkenly about the fare. Might have been in London.
Next day over a coffee in a bar just across from the hotel with some ancient coffee grinding machinery as part of its decor, we decided the to take the Reykjavik City Bus tour to orientate ourselves. It didn’t take long and included as a highlight a visit to the bus depot from where we could obtain bus rides all over Iceland! Most impressive.
The tour delivered us back at Harpa the new concert and exhibition centre in the harbour which we explored for a while admiring its hexagonal glass panel construction which threw interesting light patterns around the structure. We found a good place for a light lunch and explored the centre of the city a little further before going back to the hotel for a rest and a read. Over a drink in the bar we chatted to some other guests and discovered that Iceland is often used as a meeting point for far-flung families. Some Germans were meeting up with cousins from Detroit and lots of Canadians with French and British relatives. It makes sense when you think about it – except that what you save on travel costs you spend on food and drink.
That evening we went to the excellent Apotek restaurant where the glittering youth of Reykjavik paraded in all their finery and we sat and consumed excellent food watching them all being peacocks and hens – highly diverting.
One notable feature was again the popularity of puffin and whale on the menu here at Apotek and all over Iceland it seems.
Saturday was our last full day so we made it to the Culture House where we saw a not entirely inspiring art exhibition, some excellent art nouveau furniture and became engaged in conversation with a lady in the splendid 
library about Icelandic literature and legends and family names. We retired to the hotel for lunch and to listen to Swansea v Watford on Hornets Player. Having taken all three points at Middlesbrough the previous week we had high hopes but when goalkeeper Gomes was named man of the match you know it wasn’t our day but a point is a point.
Dee needed a lie down after all the excitement and I decided to take my camera and go for a walk around some other parts of the city. Just as I reached the lake that projects into the centre the sun came out for the first time and I had a quick hope that there might just be a clear night and we’d get to see the northern lights at the last gasp. A couple of weeks before they had turned off all the street lights in the capital so that people could see the brilliant light display in the sky.
No luck for us though, the cloud gap was small and short lived and soon the grey blanketed the city again.
The sun taunted us again the next day. As we took off and banked over the Blue Lagoon the sun’s reflection flashed across it. We hadn’t got what we came for but neither of us had any regrets about making the trip. The landscapes were amazing and as an erstwhile geography teacher Dee was glad to have seen them. The people were friendly, the food was good and at last I was able to deliver last year’s Christmas present.
And that brings the retro-blogs up to date. It’s been quite cathartic for me to look through our notes again and select photographs to illustrate each blog. There have been moments when I’ve needed a towel to stop the keyboard getting soaked but mostly there’s been laughter and joy at the fun we’ve had and the experiences we’ve shared. Many of you have been kind enough to tell me that you’ve enjoyed reading them – thank you for that. I’m off to Spain again in a few weeks and the habit may return then – watch this space!
The route to our next stop the parador at Baiona took us very close to Santiago de Compostela so we couldn’t not go. We passed a few groups of walking pilgrims on the way but I think the preferred routes keep them off the major roads, fume flagellation not being part of the pilgrimage. As we approached the sprawling city we headed for the first car park we saw signs to and found that miraculously, well it is Santiago, it was right by a major intersection from which a gate led us to the centre in about fifteen minutes. However after the drive we needed to pause for a coffee and chose a place near this big junction where coach after coach disgorged its mixtures of pilgrims and day trippers.
We made our way into the old part of the city pausing at several haberdasheries to marvel at the lace, religious memorabilia shops to wonder at the gullibility and how many shapes you can make for a scallop shell, and some art and craft shops whose wares were interesting but not compelling. The cathedral is very impressive and the whole monumental area surrounding it gave a feeling of ancient power. We refrained from joining the queues to see the interior of the cathedral. It was hot, the queue was very long and we agreed some time ago that we didn’t like paying to go into churches.
We covered the immediate hinterland gazing at fine buildings with amazing carvings, wandered down narrow streets and found ourselves at the 
On the corner of the road back to the car was a restaurant called 
Our first impression as we arrived was that we had struck lucky. A beautiful sandy bay with a promenade lined with shops, bars and restaurants, a fishing harbour with a replica of Columbus’s ship Pinta which brought the first news of the New World to Baiona in 1943 – oh dear too used to typing my date of birth – 1493 was when the Pinta sailed in from the Americas. Columbus is starting to play as big a part in these blogs as Murakami – he’s followed us from one end of Spain to the other. At the end of the town was a promontory with the fortress walls surrounding it and the hotel right in the middle at the top. And you had to show your reservation to be allowed to drive through the entrance gateway at the foot – proper posh!
We dined that evening in the less formal restaurant just down from the main parador building called the Enxebre A Pinta as it overlooks the port with the replica ship. Less formal than the main dining room the food was well up to standard and made for a very relaxing last night in Spain – and we got another lovely sunset.
We packed and departed Cangas de Onis heading for Ribadesella at the mouth of the river Sella and which looked from the guidebook to be an interesting town with suitable locations for breakfast. The town divides neatly in two with the old town and fishing port on the right bank of the estuary and the modern resort with hotels and summer villas on the left. We headed for the port area and among the nets, lobster pots and boats we found the start of a Sunday market and a cute bakery that did great coffee and pastries. We’d missed by a month the famous 
The receptionist said that we should apply online and when the permits came back we should email them to the parador and they would print them for us. The website advises obtaining permits 30 days in advance so I make another trip to reception to see whether there’s any point and am advised that there’s an Urgent button on the site that should get us our permits today but that we should aim for tomorrow morning because of the tides – you can’t get onto the sand at high tide. Back to our room we get onto the site, make our application but have to send scans of our passports so it’s off to the business centre and a scanner. But wait cries Dee, we had scans on your laptop in Japan for occasions like this. Indeed we did and I haven’t deleted them so we attach the passport pics and hit send. A while later email permits pinged back but my emails didn’t reach reception for some reason the camera’s SD card was called into play and finally reception managed to print them.
I think in all I went up and down the stairs to reception about eight times. Thank goodness we were on the first floor and not up in the tower! During my many conversations at the front desk, the young lady suggested that the town of Meira would be worth a visit as the source of the Miño, Galicia’s longest river, which flows south and forms the border between Spain and Portugal which we would meet again later in the trip. It’s by now mid-morning and Meira’s about half an hour away so perfect timing for coffee and churros.
So hot I photographed the clock/temperature sign outside the town hall. Lugo is a very clean and pleasant town with a black eagle statue commemorating the capture of the city by the Romans in the first century BC, a great market hall, the huge baroque town hall and many other marvellous buildings. A shady lunch spot was discovered on our travels and we sat to indulge in pulpo gallego, baked clams and a few other tasty tapas all helped down with very crisp Albariño wine from nearby. We hadn’t intended to do city sightseeing this trip – more mountains and beaches was the agenda – but Lugo was a delightful detour. Exhausted by the heat, lunch and walking we drove back to the hotel for a shower and a lie down. Later a drink and a few tapas and an early night ahead of tomorrow’s trip to the beach.
We also decided to carry on past Santander although people have said it’s a great city but we were drawn to the touristy attractions of Santillana del Mar once described by Jean Paul Sartre as the prettiest village in Spain.
We were surprised to learn that they make two types of cabrales – one just with cows’ milk and the other with a blend of cows’, goats’ and ewes’ milk. They are all controlled by strict Denominacion Cabrales regulations and are quite powerful blue cheeses. I marginally preferred the three-milk blend but both were highly acceptable.
Originally raised grain stores to prevent rats and other rodents getting at the grain, some are still used for this purpose, others as garages but they are interesting structures found all across Asturias and Galicia. The village also had one shop-cum-bar and even with gentle strolling a thirst had developed so a beer was called for. We went back to the parador for a light lunch and found elaborate preparations for a wedding in full swing. We were later able to observe the guests from the balcony of our new, perfectly adequate room. A taxi took us back into Cangas for dinner and there beside our table in El Campanu was a photo of the owner with none other than Martin Berasategui who clearly approved our choice of local restaurant. Apparently he still spends quite a lot of time travelling to sample authentic local cuisine all over the country.
He delivered us swiftly to the Astoria 7 Hotel where we were shown to the Charlton Heston room – I might have preferred the Sophia Loren next door – which was very comfortable and funky with quotes and posters from his films. The lobby has a sofa where you can sit next to Alfred Hitchcock and the whole place is filled with film iconography – even your bill comes in a film can.
There’s a whole street named for the 31 August which is lined with excellent bars and restaurants. It was the only street that survived when the Brits and Portuguese sacked the city and drove out the French. The bars didn’t disappoint with hams hanging from the rafters, cider being poured from a great height into tiny glasses, 
glass cabinets displaying mouth-watering delicacies and crowds of people having fun. It had been a while since lunch so we just had to try a few. A stroll along to the harbour and then the bus back to the hotel for a break before deciding what to do for dinner. With an early start, travel and a new city to absorb we decided on a snack at the hotel which was perfectly fine – the restaurant and bar were both very pleasant places to sit and plan.
As we rise up the views become more spectacular with the island and sweeping bays and the mountains beyond all with bright sun, blue skies and golden sand – the temptation to cancel the trip westward and stay in San Sebastian was growing stronger.
The staunch Catholic nature of the Ferrers family is evidenced by three priest’s holes but there’s no precise figure for the number of papists they saved. There’s lots of stained glass and memories of the ‘Quartet’ a sort of mini-Bloomsbury set who lived here from 1860 to 1920 painting each other, building a chapel and generally being artistic.
The orchard and garden beyond the house had an exhibition of scarecrows and some interesting vegetable beds which we discussed with the volunteer gardeners – a bad year for carrots up here too it seems.
The filming of the series is fascinating to those of us who have been in the business and with so many cameras it was hard to keep out of shot – Dee and I can just be glimpsed in the episode transmitted later in the year. The art on display was incredibly varied in approach and technique, oils, watercolour, stencils and spray paint, ink drawing and one of the competitors added texture with his feet. It’s interesting to see how different people see the same scene in so many different ways. As it happened there was only one we wanted to bring home but we weren’t allowed to, so this trip left us without needing to make more decisions about the walls back home.
We took those back to the car, ambled about a bit more and then stumbled across a splendid looking microbrewery pub so it had to be time for lunch. The 
The driveway approaching 
We came back via Tranmer House from which a guest in the 1930s saw the ghostly vision that inspired the dig that found the ship burial. It has an apartment that you can rent through the National Trust which we thought might be fun one day. The house is full of stuff you can actually touch and included a typewriter that became the main background image for our new enterprise 
Back into Orford we ogled and couldn’t resist 
The 
I won’t go into detail about the concerts we attended over three nights but they were performed by musicians of the highest calibre, included two world premieres. some familiar and some unfamiliar pieces. The highlight was favourite tenor Ian Bostridge performing two of Britten’s song cycles and one of Tippett’s interspersed with a brilliant version of Britten’s first string quartet by the Arcadia Quartet. The concert hall and its environs are excellent and at the intervals there was an excited buzz of conversation between friends and in our case total strangers moved to discuss the music they’d just heard. Glasto for the Golden Agers you could call it I suppose. Three nights of concerts on the trot was just right and with lots of time to explore the area on the days in between we were very glad we’d finally made it to the Aldeburgh Festival.
At the other end of the town is the famous 
After spending an excellent Christmas with Dee’s sister and brother in law in Sucina down the coast in the province of Murcia with Christmas lunch in Santiago de la Ribera and a Boxing Day excursion to Cabo Palos and Cartagena, we set off for Valencia for the week until the New Year. Given last year’s experience in Cadiz we left the car back at the airport and took their shuttle bus to the excellent boutique hotel Hospes Palau de Mar which is in two converted merchant buildings not far from the old city and the Turia Gardens, the 9 km super-park that semicircles Valencia in the former bed of the diverted river Turia.
We were too early to check in so left our luggage and set off for a Sunday flea market held behind the Mestalla – Valencia Football Club’s stadium where we went to see a match back in 2006. Sadly by the time we made it, the majority of stalls had packed up and gone. So it was time to find somewhere for lunch and console ourselves that if we had found anything interesting it would have probably been difficult to get it back home. After going back to the hotel and establishing ourselves in our room we walked off to the Plaza del Ayuntamiento where an ice rink was installed and fun was being had by all amid bright white light decorations on all the buildings around it. We found a lovely little family bar Jamon del Medio just along from the hotel so we dined there and only had a short stagger back to the hotel.
The wide sandy beach is fringed by a promenade with at least a hundred restaurants all promising the authentic Valencian paella – well this is the home of the dish after all.The surrounding area also has some interesting old buildings including beautiful wrought iron warehouses and the old Custom House with its tall clock tower. There are also lots of signs of the Americas Cup which was based here in 2010 and of the Grand Prix de Europa which was held here from 2018-2012. It was a bit early for paella so after a coffee we jumped back on the tour bus and headed back into the old town. 
There’s lots to explore here to with the modernist North Station and the Central Market with lots of local iconography and products. We were going to go to the Fine Arts Museum but of course it was closed on a Monday so plan B was back to the hotel to chill and read before a further evening explore of the centre. It took us to what was to be a breakfast gem for the next three days – the Café Agricultura which is part of the HQ building of the Royal Valencia Society for Agriculture and Sport. We entered a nice-looking cafeteria for an aperitif and idly picked up the menu which did a simple breakfast which was great value. Only when we ventured to the loo did we notice that the cafeteria led to a massive entrance hall with a monumental staircase and apparently, lots of meeting rooms and full scale dining areas. They also run the young farmers’ clubs and bridge and chess clubs along with influencing agricultural policy in the region.
That evening we heard a great commotion outside the bar near the hotel we were in and went outside to find the streets filled with hundreds of people in fancy dress running along. We went with them following the sound of some insistent drums to the Plaza de la Reina where we discovered this was the finish of an annual charity 5km run that’s held on30 December every year. The San Silvestre run has been going since 1983 and attracted an estimated 15000 to 18000 runners of all ages. As with so many events like this there are some serious runners but many are in fancy dress and there to end the year with a bit of fun.
Dee was very taken by this early fifteenth century Virgin by the Valencian artist Peris Sarria. There were also lots of sculptures, including this flamenco dancer, by Mariano Benlliure the brother of Jose who’s house we seen earlier. Their father and another brother were also painters so there was quite a dynasty of artistic Benlliures about which we had previously known nothing at all. Cultured out, we had a coffee at the museum and a stroll back to the Plaza de la Reina for another light lunch as we had booked the special New Year dinner at the hotel. This proved a riotous affair with silly hats, whistles and streamers and much jollity among the staff as well – many of them were international catering students drafted in for a big party by the hotel. It was a fine way to see in the new year.
We had decided to go for a suite as we were there for such an unusually long stay and it was a decision well made – it was huge with a living room, bedroom, massive bathroom and a balcony.
On another day we also decided to make a further excursion to La Rabida where Columbus set sail for the Indies and found America. There’s a dock on the banks of the Rio Tinto where full size replicas of the Niña, the Pinta and the Santa María can be visited. They are frighteningly small for voyages of that duration and 
danger. There’s an excellent dockside exhibition of what life was like in Columbus’ time and a great idea of how the galley was the most important part of the vessel.
Just back inland is the monastery in which Columbus signed his papers confirming that Ferdinand and Isabella had come up with the cash for his voyage. It’s all set in a park with specimen plants and massive palms and a very pleasant few hours were whiled away including a stop for lunch which made somebody very happy.
However this was to be a calm holiday not the usual Raggett itinerary k, b and scramble so we broke the journey down by staying at the Keep in Yeovil in which we had a split-level room in the eponymous tower. It was a Sunday so dining options were limited but the local pub did us fine. Next morning we visited the lovely 
We then had a crab lunch at the Crown in St Ewe on our way to an afternoon at the Lost Gardens of Heligan. These have changed a lot since our last visit many years ago and gave us beyond-our-suburban-station plans for the runner beans! The weather reverted to type and we got a quick soaking before we left.
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