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Boston + July 2014, Retro-blogs

Unfamiliar Spain 29 Aug – 12 Sept 2016

2 A peek at the Picos

Wednesday morning, still glowing from our lunch at Martin’s gaff and the warm reception for Wellington’s compatriots the night before, we rose, finished packing and went to our convenient café just round the corner from the hotel for coffee and croissants to start the day. A call to our trusty cabbie resulted in us soon being whisked through the ring road and motorway suburbs to where our hire car awaited. If ever there was a misnomer Hertz San Sebastian City Centre was it. Twenty thoroughly confusing minutes later we find ourselves in a massive Centro Comercial with the car hire offices as far from the entrance as possible. However, the car was ready, there weren’t too many blemishes to note and photograph – essential as we were doing a one-way rental – and we were soon retracing our route onto the motorway and this time passing right by San Sebastian and heading for Bilbao. As we’d been there relatively recently we decided to stay on the motorway and bypass the city this time, while noting that it would be good to go back there again on another occasion.

Map 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.

And it did have a certain charm with ancient well-maintained buildings dating back to the 15th century, narrow cobbled streets contrasting with a massive church and many imposing palaces. We wandered happily in the sun with lots of photo opportunities, bars to sample cider and eventually a good place for lunch. Apparently there are strict building regulations and no access to cars unless they have a garage within the town which did make it a very pleasant place to while away a couple of hours. We decided against going to nearby Altamira since all you can see are replicas of the 35,000-year-old cave paintings since the originals have become too fragile to withstand the breath and sweat of visitors except a very few people each day. We later read that the waiting list is three years – almost as bad as booking at El Bulli in its prime.

Instead as big Gaudi fans we decided to head off north to Comillas where one of his first ever buildings, and one of the few outside Catalunya, still stands in its decorative glory. El Capricho was built as a summer palace for a merchant who had found wealth in the Indies – like so many nineteenth century Spaniards – and was completed in 1883 the same year as Casa Vicens in Barcelona so they are of historical interest in demonstrating how the ideas that were later to find their way into the Sagrada Familia were already present in embryonic form in his first commissioned works. Capricho iron

It’s a fascinating small villa with an interesting combination of materials, stone, red brick, glazed tiles and lots of wrought iron. It has a tower like a minaret and reflects Gaudi oriental interests. There are repeating motifs of sunflowers and leaves and the use of the rooms follows the path of the sun. Seeing close up the designs Gaudi chose for door furniture, the windows that play tunes when they are opened, vermillion roof trusses, beautiful wood finishes and tiles and carvings of flora and fauna was an eye-opener which helped throw his later and more famous works into context. El Capricho had a chequered history being abandoned in the civil war, then becoming a restaurant and then thanks to a Japanese corporation which presumably included a Gaudi fan it was restored and opened as a museum in 2010. We had a brief rest in the tranquil garden and then back to the car for our hotel for the next three days – the Parador at Cangas de Onis, the gateway to the Picos de Europa.

I routinely make booking requests in most places for a room with a walk-in as opposed to an over-bath shower but didn’t bother here as we’ve never been in a parador that didn’t have both bath and separate shower. However we’ve never been up north before and they only have one in the disabled room. We can use that for the first night but a guest in a wheelchair is arriving tomorrow so we’ll have to move. So we made full use of it with a shower to wash off the effects of travelling all day and enjoyed an evening cocktail in the spacious room before going for dinner. The staff kindly agreed to move our bags during the day while we went to explore the Picos de Europa. We are both fans of a good blue cheese and one of Spain more famous one cabrales is made just down the road and there’s a cave-museum that shows the process and has a tasting tour so that’s where we headed first. The cave is quite small so groups are limited to twenty people and tours set off at quarter past every hour. So we had time for a coffee before joining the 12:15 group for a fascinating visit with video clips of the cows, sheep and goats high in the Picos with herdsmen still living up with them for weeks at a time, then a look at the equipment used to make the milk into cheese and then the actual shelves where the cheeses sit to age for between four and six months.

cheese cellar pack shot 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.

The cave is on the outskirts of Las Arenas and after this little appetiser we decided it was time for lunch flowed by a drive higher into the mountains. It’s a small town but still too many restaurants to choose from but after the usual dithering we decided on La Panera which was a friendly family run place with good local food and of course a plate of cheese to finish off with. Our drive was exhilarating as we wound our way up through the breath-taking peaks often on single track roads and lots of reversing – the protocol seems to be give way to those coming down or maybe I’m just too polite. Eventually we arrived in the village of Sotres hoping to descend back to the main road via another valley but only belatedly consulted the map to find there were no other roads to Sotres than the one we had just driven.

The view does look quite different going the other way so no real complaints. They are very impressive mountains and we really enjoyed being able to get out and grab some warm, fresh mountain air. We stopped off in the town of Cangas de Onis – the parador is about three kilometres north in Villanueva de Cangas – to have an aperitif after a hard day’s tourism. Parking was a nightmare even with our blue badge translation but eventually we found a spot and headed off for a bar.

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But there’s a steep Roman bridge over the river Sella so we had to walk up that and take a selfie first. We settled down in front of El Campanu with a much needed – it’s very steep that bridge – beer and a glass of rosado when our pleasant stay was disturbed by a mother with an uncontrollably sick child which vomited freely in

P1020620 — At the top of the very steep bridge.

the street making all around most uncomfortable. The staff quickly arrived with mops and buckets but we had by then retired inside to avoid feeling nauseous ourselves. The restaurant looked very good, so despite our setback, we agreed that we’d come back tomorrow night for dinner.

After travel and tourism for two days we agreed to suspend normal Raggett holiday mode and have a quiet day around the parador and Villanueva. This started with a sunny stroll beside the river to another hostelry for breakfast and Dee was moved to sketch a prominent sandstone outcrop across the river. We returned via the colourful little village which had a number of typical Asturian granaries or hórreos.
IMG_7359 (2) 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. Martin Campanu

The restaurant didn’t disappoint. The platter of simply grilled local fish was delicious and they had a good wine list as well as their speciality ciders which we did have to sample first or cause offence to the very attentive staff. I never fail to be impressed by how much Spaniards regard waiting as a real profession and do it with such enthusiasm and concern for their customers’ tastes and comfort. It wasn’t the bag pouffe and white gloves of Martin’s but it made our evening really pleasant and memorable. It seems that back home corporations with restaurant chains still haven’t learned that people by people not things. But then brands wouldn’t rule would they? As we are driven back to the parador through bright moonlight and with the mountains silhouetted around us, we are really glad we chose to explore a part of Spain we didn’t know.

Boston + July 2014, Retro-blogs

Unfamiliar Spain 29 Aug – 12 Sept 2016

1 San Sebastian

We’d explored a lot of Spain together over the years and I suppose with some inkling of the future Dee suggested we should go somewhere we hadn’t been before and so I started planning a visit along the north coast with a couple of injunctions: not the usual one night here and move on Raggett itinerary; not two weeks in the same place; explore new areas at a leisurely pace. The compromise reached, and fully endorsed, was three three-night stays in San Sebastian, Cangas de Onis, Vilalba and a final five-nighter in Baiona to chill. And so on August Bank Holiday Monday we set off for Biarritz. Yes it’s in France, but it was the most convenient destination for flight times and it’s under an hour to San Sebastian by coach from the airport for just seven euros each. As we approached the toll booths and border control Rafael the coach driver did the most amazing set of manoeuvres and lane changes to speed us through well ahead of where we had any right to be. Respect Rafa! He also had to deploy the windscreen wipers briefly as we approached the border but we never needed them again for the next two sun-filled weeks. Soon we’re in the middle of San Sebastian disappearing into an underground bus station from which we were able to take a lift to the taxi rank and were swept up by Jon Andoni Uson who spoke a little English and with my Spanish – no Basque I’m afraid – we got on fine and he offered to be our private taxi service for the time we were in San Sebastian. He came up trumps within twenty minutes of being called on both occasions we needed him.

Dee with film tin bill 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.

The hotel is a bit out of the centre but the number 28 (and several other buses) whisk you up to the main shopping area and the beach in five minutes – sorry Jon taxista, we like buses. We found a good place for lunch and sat outside, but the interior of Bideluze was fantastic with wood panelling and glass display shelves behind a great bar. It’s well known for its pintxos – the tapas equivalent in the Basque country – something we discovered a bit later from a guide book or online, must be that PM nose. We then walked across Guipuzcoa Square and found stop number 3 of the City Tour sightseeing bus and decided to get ourselves oriented with the town. The narration was a bit awry in places and repeated in others but gave us good snippets of history and culture. It also told us of the festival held on 31 August to celebrate Wellington leading Anglo-Portuguese forces to liberate San Sebastian from the French – hey there’s somewhere Brits are still welcome – and we’ll be here.

We got off the bus on the main beachfront the Playa de la Concha and during our evening stroll came across La Perla a thalassotherapy spa originally opened in 1912. We enquired about times and prices and determined to visit next day. We then walked north into the old city centre where a number of pintxo bars had been noted from Tripadvisor or the guide book.

P1020489 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, P1020488 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.

The upshot of the deliberations that we would spend a couple of hours at La Perla and then go up Monte Igueldo which is at the west end of the bay – Jon and the guide books said the fun fair was indeed fun and the view of San Sebastian fantastic. But first thalassotherapy. What a delight – warm sea water with jacuzzi like jets toning your body at different positions all indicated on signs above – feet and ankles; knees and calves; thighs; waist; back or chest and shoulders often in combinations. It was great. And then we found the underwater gym – exercise bikes, cross-trainers, treadmills all for use while half submerged in slightly less warm but very pleasant salt water. After all the energetic stuff, we were also able to laze in a warm pool looking out onto the bay. Our two-hour session ended all too soon but we dried off, changed and then had a coffee at La Perla’s café up on the promenade. But not before booking a repeat for tomorrow.

Energized by our watery workout we walked the length of the promenade passing Queen Cristina’s Miramar Palace – La Perla was also built for her benefit when she decided the court would spend its summers in San Sebastian. They even built a tunnel for traffic so the palace lawns to extend right down to the beach without the inconvenience of crossing a road. Isn’t royal prerogative a wonderful thing? The Miramar marks the point at which Playa de la Concha stops and the next bay – Playa de Ondaretta begins. There a fewer hotels and restaurants on this stretch but more beach volleyball pitches, sailing and surfing outlets and a pleasant park. By the time we reach the elegantly tiled façade of the Igueldo funicular, we were thinking about lunch.

funicular 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 top of the mountain is a giant fun fair which we had been expecting – tacky, touristy but hey we’re by the seaside. We looked around and then spied a cafeteria which we thought would be good for lunch but no it was 3:30 and they were closing. Are we still in Spain? Now quite peckish we turn tail, descend in the funicular – we decided against the walk down – and along the promenade again looking for a suitable late lunch location. I think I mentioned this area was less populated with hotels and restaurants – devoid might be a better term. Leaving the main drag we entered a warren of side streets and hit upon Bar Pepe a good old-fashioned family neighbourhood bar with no pretensions or tourists. All the staff seemed to be engaged in a twenty-strong table enjoying a family lunch to which people came and went at random with at least four generations involved. A lovely spectacle to observe. They did however find time to take our order and serve us a selection of tasty tapas. It was after seven when we left so we took the bus back to the hotel for a quiet evening in preparation for the big day tomorrow.

San Sebastian is renowned for having more Michelin stars (14) per square kilometre than any other place on earth – it’s just been supplanted by Kyoto where we’ve also eaten very well. It would be foolish not to sample the delights of one of them wouldn’t it? But which one? Not realising the festive nature of 31 August we had tried to book Arzak, Akelarre and Martin Berasategui, all of which have three stars, from the UK several weeks before. Polite refusals from all except Martin Berasategui who regretted dinner was fully booked but that we might enjoy lunch even more given the location of his restaurant out in the hills behind the city. So we jumped at it, fixed on 14:00 and come Tuesday 31 August headed off for a work out at La Perla prior to our faithful taxi driver coming to sweep us out through confusing suburbs to the imposing entrance stairway of the restaurant. It may have his name in wrought iron beside us but for Dee it would always be ‘Martin’s gaff’ well his surname is a bit of a mouthful but what delightful mouthfuls would await us inside? Well plenty. Service was amazing from the moment we entered the door. We were offered a choice indoors or out and of three unoccupied terrace tables and chose one that would furnish a full view of the whole restaurant so we could see what was going on. Attentive wait staff provided a pouffe for Dee’s handbag and a sommelier offered a glass of cava as an aperitif. Our waiter and waitress donned white gloves to turn our glasses upright ready for pouring a divine glass of Juvé y Camps Reserva de la Familia, not a cava we’d ever had before, but which made a great start to the afternoon, quite citrussy and light. Dee’s appetite has been greatly diminished of late so she decided not to join me in the 15- course tasting menu but was guided to a number of selections which would interlace with mine quite nicely. As it was the service was seamless but unhurried, the food magnificent and the only blot on the landscape was when I exclaimed ‘Oh this is real caviar’ and then didn’t give Dee any to taste. So different from the lumpfish roe served in our own sweet home! I just got carried away honest!

A couple of hours later the chef himself appeared to greet most of the diners and posed for a treasured photo with Dee and myself after a chat about the menu, the area and his continued presence in the kitchen. He can’t be there all the time as he has also other restaurants to attend to – another three Michelin stars at Lasarte in Barcelona, the two-starred MB in Tenerife and six others in the Dominican Republic, Mexico and Costa Rica – and his reputation as the chef with the most Michelin stars to maintain.

During our time dining our attention was drawn to a woman in red sitting across the other side of the restaurant from us. Dee was convinced it was Laura Mvula, featured in a recent South Bank Show and speculated as to where she might be performing next – Paris in two days’ time (thanks Google) so it could be. We never approached her or asked the staff – celebs deserve their space too. But she did attract a lot of attention from the staff and had a long chat with Martin. After a wonderful and peaceful afternoon with outstanding food and well-matched wine, we called for Jon and were soon heading back to the hotel in his taxi. Dee took a sensible siesta while I, overexcited I suspect, went walkabout round the neighbourhood with my camera. We later got the bus back into the centre and witnessed the great parade and musical festivities of the 31 August Festival, packed streets in the old town, choirs and bands, poets declaiming and everybody having a good time.

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Walking about and standing watching were tiring but finding bars with somewhere to sit down was quite tricksy but eventually we managed a couple and rounded off a fabulous visit to San Sebastian with a bus ride back to the hotel which neatly exhausted our three-day travel cards. A quick pack and so to bed, dreaming of warm oysters with iced cucumber; red mullet with fennel, saffron and squid and drifting off with Martin’s selection of ‘The local cheeses that I like’.

Boston + July 2014, Retro-blogs

Art hounds on the loose 22-28 July

We have a much-appreciated gift subscription to the magazine Art and Antiques which presented two free tickets for the Antiques for Everyone fair at the NEC in Birmingham. We decided to go up for a weekend, browse works we couldn’t afford and visit a couple of National Trust properties on the way back. There was a good deal at the nearby Arden Marriott so we set off on Friday afternoon, checked in had dinner and gathered our strength for walking slow miles through the NEC next day. Entry was easy and there were plenty of opportunities for coffee stops to break up the time on our feet. A few pieces really caught our eye. I must say that none of the dealers were excessively pushy and responded informatively to our questions. They were all very friendly and helpful – a pleasantly different attitude from the usual approach of people trying to sell you something.

By the time we sat down for lunch a shortlist was drawn up and ranked by each of us into priorities. Then there was the discussion about how much we could spend, where would it go on our already crowded walls? Would it prove an investment? Would we ever find anything comparable in an antiques market or even better a junk shop? Further visits were made to a number of booths to review options until an hour or so before the 18:00 close we thought we’d better sit down with a cuppa and decide. We finished up buying two large water colours, an etching and a signed Emile Gallé art nouveau side table with fabulous inlay designs – oh and a posh walking stick for occasions when Dee’s rather battered folding one bought in Japan in 2013 wasn’t quite right. It felt rather good driving right up to the exhibition hall back door to load them all up, less good carrying them all up to our room as I didn’t want to leave them in the car all night. But it gave us a chance to have another look at them all. Buyer’s remorse? No, not a bit – investment or not they were all things we were glad to have and display.

Mediterranean view by John Paddy Carstairs

Low Tide Dell Quay by Edward Wesson

Galle table with Buddhas

Galle table detail

Cypriano (El Basque) by GF Brockhurst

Purchases concealed in the boot, suitcases on the back seat for anyone to steal, we drove home on Sunday after deciding that another day in the NEC was not required. We dug out the NT and EH handbooks from the car and decided that the nearest places of interest were Baddesley Clinton and Packwood House both National Trust houses and gardens. Baddesley was closest, just, so we started there. Some time ago we discovered that those useful folding stools you can get to help you manage to sit and contemplate pictures in crowded galleries can be purchased online. They’re a cross between a stool and a shooting stick and perfect for a day like this. Baddesley Clinton is a small moated manor house that was in the same Ferrers family’s hands for 500 years. It’s a pretty building with some wonderful features like a huge stone fireplace in the hall and a carved and inlaid four poster bed.

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.

There were some hungry house martins waiting in a series of nests in the entrance arch but fortunately help was at hand.

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.

After a coffee we decide we can face Packwood House too as it’s only a mile and a half away. It’s a complete contrast – much bigger with extensive grounds with yew topiary everywhere – 100 of them representing the sermon on the mount with a big yew for JC, smaller ones for the twelve disciples and slightly smaller ones for the multitude. It’s a staggering conceit but I’m not very fond of yew trees. A lot of children enjoyed playing hide and seek though.

The Tudor house was restored to an imagined earlier state in the 1920s and 30s by a man, Baron Ash (that’s a name not a title – wishful thinking by parents?), who loved to party. He was also a great salvager of features from other decaying stately homes so the panelling at Packwood comes from several different sites, tapestries were rescued from all over the place a table was purchased from Baddesley Clinton, so it’s an eclectic mix which somehow works really well. Culturally replete we set off for home to decide where to hang and place our new acquisitions.

Two days later however we’re back on the art trail. A good friend is unit manager on the Sky Arts programmes Portrait and Landscape Artist of the Year and we’d been to see Portrait being recorded at the Wallace Collection in May which was a very interesting day observing a type of production neither of us had been involved in. This year’s Landscape semi-finals were taking place at Margate in June on the harbour arm. A trip to observe this being filmed, a quick visit to Turner Contemporary and a wander round Margate were too good to miss and it was also a sunny day. We asked our friend Linda if she’d like an outing too so the three of us had a good old-fashioned day by the seaside – including damned fine fish and chips on the front.

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.

Boston + July 2014, Retro-blogs

Gradually last summer 13-18 June

Bostridge, Britten and the beach are all favourites and we decided to combine all three with a first ever trip to the Aldeburgh Festival in June. Festival-going had never been a big part of our lives but Aldeburgh and the Hay Literature and Arts Festival were ones we’d always wanted to attend but somehow never got around to. We set off from London on a drizzly Monday morning for a planned two-night stay at Seckford Hall at Woodbridge in Suffolk before travelling on into Suffolk for our first concert on Wednesday. We stopped off in Colchester, found a blue badge parking spot on the High Street and set off for a coffee and a look around. We found a fine coffee shop, Loofer’s that must have a special Monday mummy and buggy offer – they were both everywhere and babies too. Getting to the loo was quite a mission. The organic coffee was excellent and we scanned our map of Colchester and left for a damp explore. The curving High Street is attractive and the Castle looked interesting but we decided against that as the rain was getting harder. Maybe sightseeing could happen on the way back. Finding refuge in Debenhams, like you do, I acquired some polo and tee shirts thanks in part to some vouchers that Dee had thoughtfully put in that pink bag.

20160613_143503 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 Three Wise Monkeys didn’t disappoint. There was a wide range of beers and a good menu. Service was delivered in a most friendly manner by the young staff and we left refreshed and ready to move on towards Seckford Hall.

However as we made our way out of town a further diversion beckoned as we saw signs to the Beth Chatto garden. As keen gardeners this was not to be missed so off we went. A very worthwhile detour – even with umbrellas aloft the variety of planting in the different styles of garden was inspiring. We knew plants wouldn’t survive in the car for the next five days so there was lots of noting of labels and mental additions to lists of plant to be purchased elsewhere. Especially impressive is the gravel garden established on the old car park which has never been watered but in which euphorbias, poppies, thistles and favourites like agapanthus, agastache, rudbeckia and verbena flourish. Determined to get our planting sorted out this coming summer we finally left for the hotel. We vowed that another time we’d explore the evocative places that were just names as we passed through Constable Country – Dedham, Flatford, East Bergholt – they’d look better with some sun.

Seckford Hall Hotel and drive The driveway approaching Seckford Hall is impressive as is the Tudor manor house itself. It dates from around 1530 and alleges that Queen Elizabeth stayed there. Well we didn’t get the four-poster that she is supposed to have slept in but did have a very pleasant room in the old building – there is a new build/conversion courtyard near the spa which is where we headed next for a pre-prandial swim. We also booked a massage each for the next afternoon. A pleasant evening passed in the bar and restaurant and we decided that we’d go to Sutton Hoo next morning.

Tuesday dawned still grey but no longer raining so we breakfasted and went to the site of the famous Anglo-Saxon ship burial some 4 miles away. The burial mounds – 18 of them – vary in size and impressiveness. They are thought to be the cemetery of Anglian royals named the Wuffingas which all sounds a bit Roald Dahl to me but was confirmed by the plaques in the excellent National Trust visitor centre as kings from about 600-750 AD. The replica helmet is truly stunning and the recreation of the burial interior extremely well done. We walked out to and around the burial grounds with a few stops along the way including a double take at this rather ominous sign.

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 Verbalists.

The next great discovery was The Unruly Pig a great gastropub not far away. Lunch was so good we even booked for dinner later that night. After snacking our way through the cold cuts and cheese board we drove around the Suffolk Heath Area of Natural Beauty, well named, into Woodbridge to visit a couple of antique shops and then back for a 5pm massage. Having seen the Pig’s wine list we took a cab from the hotel and were not disappointed by dinner where food, wine, service and hospitality were all outstanding. A very good discovery – definitely not a pig in a poke.

Next morning as we checked out arrangements were being made for the start of what seemed to be a massive three-day Indian wedding, later confirmed by the reception staff. We decided to travel via the coast and visit Orford a place we’d heard of but never been to. More countryside of natural beauty surrounded us on the way and at Orford we made for the Quay and took a short stroll along the bank of the river Alde looking out across the estuary to Orford Ness, a long shingle bank with numerous birdwatching hides, the black clapboard radio beacon and the red and white striped lighthouse – proper coastline this. Back into Orford we ogled and couldn’t resist Pinney’s Smokehouse but having failed to bring the cool box and ice we reluctantly left the oysters and smoked mackerel in the shop. Lesson for the future – if you are going somewhere famous for fish take the cool box, the shop will provide the ice. Back in the centre of Orford it was time for a coffee admirably served by the Pump Street Bakery which had a tempting range of cakes and pastries on offer. Another antique shop beckoned but offered nothing we had to buy. On to Aldeburgh via Tunstall and Snape at whose famous Maltings Britten built the concert hall we were to visit that evening.

In Aldeburgh we were able to park opposite the White Lion Hotel right on the beach at the north end of the town. It’s a pleasant hotel, like so many others especially near a coast it seems to have evolved over time and have a baffling number of different levels with small flights of connecting stairs which no refurb will ever even out without flattening the whole edifice. Friendly staff, OK room – should have paid extra for a sea view – two restaurants and a bar it had all one could ask for. We checked in and took a stroll to the nearest pub for a light lunch and then walked down the delightful main street. Aldeburgh is a very pretty town with some fine old buildings and a few not so fine, but has a welcoming atmosphere. As townies up for the festival we felt neither regarded as weird nor ripped off as easy targets. We had a fun time. The one thing this pre-referendum trip did for us was instil a sense of impending doom. Driving through Essex and Suffolk on the way we saw only one Remain flag after passing by hundreds of Leave posters and banners. Clearly the London bubble sees things a bit differently from those out in the country and this despite the fact that half our farmers would be broke without EU subsidies. Ah well!

P1020134 The Snape Maltings complex is a great place to explore and we arrived early enough for the concert to do so. The grounds have interesting sculptures and pathways beside the river. We’d booked a pre-concert dinner for the first night prior to being able to suss out other options. We sat at a window overlooking the river Alde as it winds through the marshes and felt totally at ease the with blue sky, green and yellow grasses in distinct layers and the odd splash of colour from walkers. It was like being in a painting.

20160615_185622 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.

During her enforced retirement Dee had become mildly addicted to late afternoon TV antique shows like Flog it!, Great Antiques Road Trip and the like. So we visited a couple of the places nearby which had been hunting grounds for participants to see if we could find those bargains that later at auction would pay for our trip. Heaven forfend that the production teams ever plant items, but we found very little of any interest in any of the places we visited and even fewer that we thought might make us a profit. But pootling around the Suffolk countryside was enjoyable – the strange purpose-built 1910 holiday resort at Thorpeness, traditional seaside with pier and beach huts at Southwold (and Adnams fine brewery) and towns inland like Leiston and Saxmundham.

The weather failed us at Southwold but one plaque on the pier made us laugh. Back in Aldeburgh itself one of our favourite things apart from huts with strange signs. was Maggie Hambling’s beautiful shell sculpture The Scallop on the north beach.

P1020137 At the other end of the town is the famous Aldeburgh Fish and Chips shop where you can buy your meal – great scoff – and take it to eat with a pint of Adnams – excellently kept – in the White Hart next door. We were there during the Rio World Cup and took in a couple of depressing matches among other England fans fortified with Adnams’ ales and wines.

Apart from the music, cultural highlights were a visit to the Red House which keeps the Britten-Pears archive and preserves the house as it was when they lived there together until Britten’s death in 1976 which gave fascinating insights into how mundane some of the pursuits of geniuses can be. In the Cinema Gallery back in Aldeburgh Dee spent a good time in painterly conversation with established local artist Delia Tournay-Godfrey who was fascinating in telling us how she was almost a smash and grab painter, going out with her oils in her car and often sitting in the car to grab scenes as they presented themselves. These were sometimes worked up into larger paintings in the studio but often left as they were – spontaneous art capturing a moment. For Dee, having just embarked on her watercolour classes at Blackheath Conservatoire and showing a real talent for it, the insights were very valuable and she later made several works from life very quickly.

We left Aldeburgh after a good top up of culture after spending too much of the year in hospital clinics and with Dee too frail from treatment to walk far or go to theatre or concerts. For this and a later trip to Spain by managing our days sensibly and reining in my enthusiasm for fitting in just one more sight we managed to get by without exhaustion. This was a superb Suffolk break.

Boston + July 2014, Retro-blogs

Farewell 2015 in Valencia

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.

Next morning we took the open top bus tour around the old town, down past the fabulous City of Arts and Sciences, Oceanografic aquarium complex to Las Arenas beach and the Marina where we got off to explore.

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. P1010742 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.

After juice, coffee and croissants there next morning we picked out an interesting-sounding place from the guide book – the Casa-Museo Jose Benlliure. Now he was a painter I confess to being unaware of but the exhibition occupies his former home in which his garden studio was left much as when he last used it. Cluttered with inspirational eclectica he’d gathered during the many years up to his death aged 79 in 1937. The paintings were OK but the place and the process were fascinating especially to my newly-developed watercolourist companion. P1010788 P1010787

We walked from his house along the Turia Gardens to La Lonja one of Valencia’s must-see buildings. It was the silk traders’ exchange and the building was started in 1492 – what a busy year that was in Spain what with Columbus setting off from La Rabida. We had no idea that Valencia had loads of mulberry trees and a thriving silk industry way back then but the gothic building with its barley twist columns echoing the palm trees that abound in the city and ceiling bosses like bundles of silk is clearly very important as it’s been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1996. Nearby a group of women lace makers proved that fabric crafts are still alive in the city.

The cathedral is close by but we’d done enough sightseeing for one day but maybe tomorrow, who knows? We did in fact go back there after lunch which was in the Taberna Vintara in Plaza de la Reina which was most amusing with some interesting staff and customers. While walking about we spotted some wall graffiti Banksy-style but always of cats. A short Google revealed these to be the work of Valencian street artist Julia Lool and very amusing they are too (her blog does have English translation).

The cathedral is an enormous building constructed at various times since the thirteenth century. It has gothic, baroque and romanesque elements, a couple of Goya paintings and an octagonal tower, St Michael’s appropriately, that apparently gives great views over the city – we decided against climbing its 200+ steps. Most importantly for Wagner fans, it is home to the Holy Grail. In a chapel is a brown agate chalice said to be the one used by Christ at the Last Supper. It’s disputed by the Vatican but revered by the locals and has been used by visiting popes to celebrate mass.

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You can’t be in Valencia and not spend some time in the City of Arts and Sciences designed by architect Santiago Calatrava. Sadly there was nothing of interest on at the Opera but the Science Museum had a brilliant range of interactive exhibits which help you to understand some complex scientific concepts by walking through them, touching things and experiencing their reactions. Another exhibit looks at materials and things that are made from them with an emphasis on furniture and domestic items. A real fun couple of hours and a good café to rest afterwards. I was never very good at time keeping and the human sundial outside was baffling.

We then moved on to the Oceanografic, deemed the best aquarium in Spain. It may well be but its pungent smelling underground caverns soon drove us out so we missed the fish but caught a dolphin display in the pool and saw some amazing scarlet ibis in the aviary

Then it was time to go to the beach in quest of the perfect paella. Whether perfect or not it’s too soon to judge but we had a very good one at La Perla but it is impossible to choose from the jostling menu thrusters touting for your euros. A gentle digestive stroll along the beach followed in wonderfully blue skies and warm weather for the end of December.

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.

New Year’s Eve was our final night in Valencia and we started it with a visit to the Museum of Fine Arts we couldn’t do earlier in the week. It has some very fine exhibits with several paintings by Velazquez, Ribera, Murillo and Goya and lots by Jaoquin Sorolla who we didn’t know very well but was a good friend of John Singer Sargent and exhibited with him a few times. There were some very fine portraits and ‘plein air’ works as he espoused the vogue for painting directly in nature in the open air not in a studio.

Veronica of the Virgin WS Flamenco Dancer - Mariano Benlliure sculptor 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.

Boston + July 2014, Retro-blogs

Calm, Columbus and Cadiz

With final programme and DVD masters delivered to the client in every conceivable version and the final invoice sent on 28 September we were finally free to go for a real rest. This really was going to be a restorative break with minimal travel – nine days in the parador at Mazagon and five at the one in Cadiz. We flew to Faro and got an airport shuttle bus to take us into Huelva to pick up a hire car so as to avoid the horrendous extras they charge for crossing borders in a rental car. Mistake! The bus dropped people off at lots of villa and resort locations on the way to the border so it took for ever. And who had forgotten that Portugal chooses to be in a different time zone than Spain? So by the time we reach Huelva it’s past one-thirty and the Avis office is now closed till four. So with me wrangling three pieces of luggage and Dee only managing one because of needing her stick we found literally the nearest bar-restaurant and had a lengthy lunch. Avis did sympathise and upgraded us to a large automatic Skoda which drove very well. It’s only half an hour to Mazagon so we arrived in good time to suss out the parador and enjoy our suite. P1010327 P1010331 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.

There were outdoor and indoor pools and although not one of the paradors in a historic building it was extremely pleasant with a good restaurant and a pleasant and relaxing bar.

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20151004_114402 — Guess which is the 100 year old.

End of blog really, as we just sat around reading, planned a new layout for the garden back home, ate and slept. Right? Nah. Well right next to the parador entrance was a huge pine tree, more than a hundred years old which has been declared a national historic monument. So we had to walk out and view that.

Then there was a half day excursion into the Donaña National Park that we couldn’t miss and feet became itchy for a modicum of sightseeing but we did also manage some calm days at the hotel as well. The Donaña trip involved setting off in the dark to arrive at the departure point by eight a.m. But we arrived and got into a long wheelbase truck that took us on a brilliant trip throughout the varied areas of the park. We drove down the sea shore where we saw turtles, into the marshy bits with loads of flamingos and other birds and then into the forests where there were wild boar, deer and wild horses. Then the return trip was through the dunes. Four exhilarating hours of great interest and fun.

One of our friends had spent a year in southern Spain a while back and had told us about taking part in the pilgrimage to El Rocio so as we were only a short drive away we thought we’d go there for lunch and to see what it was all about. The town is like something out of a western with unpaved roads and yellow dust everywhere. Then there are the hermandades or fraternities where the different groups of pilgrims place their statues of the Virgin de El Rocio until it is time to visit her shrine. There’s street after street of white and yellow buildings with homes, bars and hermandades all intermingled and in true movie style there are hitching rails for your horse. We had lunch there and then drove back via the scenic route to Mazagon – a great day out.

P1010438 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 P1010435 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.

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P1010482 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.

Columbus was also associated with nearby Palos de la Frontera and Moguer which we saved for another day and proved well worth the visit. On the way we saw massive fields growing strawberries and discovered that this is Spain’s principal area for their cultivation. We also learned that there’s controversy because vast quantities of water are being extracted from the Donaña national park’s scant reserves to the extent that if action is not taken to stop the park may lose its UNESCO World Heritage Site status.

In Moguer we were able to see close up one of the carriages and virgin statues for El Rocio as well as cowboys roaming the streets on horseback. There was a splendidly tiled theatre that was now used as a cultural centre where there was an exhibition of local artworks that proved leaveable-behind.

Having chilled for nine days in our splendid suite and had some of the rest we both needed we then set off for Cadiz a city we’d stayed in before – also in October – in 2003. Another surprise en route was field after field of cotton – just as with strawberries in Huelva, there’s an awful lot of cotton in Cadiz. We again stayed at the Cadiz parador but since we were last there it’s been demolished and rebuilt completely in a very modern style which works well. We had a room overlooking the luxuriant Parque Genovés and spent a lot of time on the fabulous pool deck.

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We did do the open top bus tour to get a feel for the whole city – a spectacular cathedral, a lofty watch tower, Santa Catalina castle right next to the hotel, long sandy beaches and a massive cruise ship terminal complete with three floating apartment blocks on a European tour.

Cadiz is a wonderfully compact city best explored on foot. There’s a great market, galleries, bars and restaurants galore and a fabulous amount of modernisme architecture and details on its buildings. We particularly liked some of the tiled advertisements. Cadiz is a real feast for the eyes and the belly. We were amused by the resilience of al fresco diners during a shower – umbrellas raised they carried on regardless.

We had to drive back to Malaga to fly home and foolishly kept the car but it didn’t leave the parador garage during our five days there at €12 a night. Big mistake, that’s another meal! I also had – there’s an end of holiday theme here – a lengthy Skype call with a publisher from the Netherlands to see if I was the right person to edit and native language check a secondary school English course they were revising and reissuing. It transpired that I am and have worked on it on and off for the whole of 2016 and into 2017.

Well we had actually done pretty much what we promised ourselves in combining periods of rest with a little light sightseeing. And we were treated to some absolutely fabulous sunsets.

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The drive back along the coast was fun too viewing Gibraltar from a great height and then driving all along the Estepona, Marbella, Fuengirola, Torremolinos strip towards Malaga airport and home.

Boston + July 2014, Retro-blogs

Cornwall August 2015

2015 was a hard year. Most of our travelling was confined to trips between home and Guy’s or St Thomas’ Hospital for us both and for me from home to the office we took in Bromley because of a long and difficult English language teaching video project that needed a base other than our home office. But between surgery, courses of chemotherapy and client demands we did manage to grab a week in Cornwall and two weeks in southern Spain.

The Cornish trip was supposed to celebrate the delivery of the big ELT project but the client delayed completion with yet more changes and so the relief we should have both felt was not as complete as we’d hoped.

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 Forde Abbey near Chard. A smallish property with gardens, parkland and an extensive garden centre where we resisted the temptation to buy as the poor plants would have struggled in the boot for the next six days.

Then it was on down the A303, A30 and A391 to St Austell and the Cornwall Hotel and Spa. Fortunately our journey passed without the traffic jams we both recalled with horror from our earlier lives trying to holiday in the west country. The hotel has an old manor house and then newly-built lodge style accommodation up the hill behind it, a good pool and spa facilities. On Tuesday we decided to take a trip down to Mevagissey and given unseasonable weather for England in August we decided to take a boat trip along the coast for an hour.

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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.

The next day we went to Newquay to spend the day with Dee’s Auntie Joyce and Thursday went to the Eden Project where we were glad of the domes to protect us from the unremitting drizzle interspersed with heavy showers. It was interesting to move through the different climate zones and see the changes in vegetation. Continuing our regal pub progress we went to the King’s Arms in Luxulyan for a late lunch and then back to the hotel for a swim and a massage.

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Friday was so awful we just stayed in and swam and read and took a taxi to Austell’s the best rated local eatery for dinner which was fine. Saturday was a little better so we ventured to the Cornish Market World to look for interesting antiques (in vain) and then on into Charlestown for a further saunter round craft shops and galleries before lunch. And of course to explore the Georgian harbour much featured in Poldark and Hornblower and ages ago The Onedin Line. We then drove east to have a look at Fowey but there was absolutely nowhere to park – not even a blue badge spot – so we drove up river and quite by chance hit upon what we were sure would become a really splendid country house hotel Trenython Manor. It was in mid-refurb but a friendly manager offered to show us around. Built by Mussolini in the 1870s as a thank you to a local Colonel Peard, it then became the Bishop’s Palace for Truro and a Great Western Railway convalescent home. It was really tucked away up a narrow lane when you suddenly come across this massive portico. It looked as if it would be a fun retreat once they had finished all the facilities. We went back to Charlestown later on for dinner at Wreckers a fun seafood restaurant down by the harbour.

We left on Sunday under a bit of another kind of cloud – we were about to set off for a drive as the rain had stopped being torrential when reception called to say that there was still luggage in our room. I’d got the dates wrong and thought we were driving back on Monday but in fact we had a reservation at The Hollies in Martock for Sunday night again breaking the journey half way. So a scurrying pack and rapid departure ensued and we hit the road for Martock.

On the Monday morning we paid a damp visit to Barrington Court a National Trust property with its long herbaceous borders and colour coordinated gardens where we would have lingered longer but for the rain. The house itself was fascinating having been restored with wood panelling and floorboards salvaged from all over the place in the 1920s. Its impressive Long Gallery and other rooms had recently been used for filming Wolf Hall along with many other NT properties. So our restful Cornish break passed rather damply into the blog and we headed back for London and more editing for me and a period of uncertainty for Dee.

Boston + July 2014, Retro-blogs

A night to remember

My daughter and son-in-law had secreted with Dee a birthday card with the inclusion of $100 and the injunction that this was to be taken, converted into chips and be blown at the tables or slots. Neither of us is a gambler so we texted various friends of greater nous in this area for advice. “Put it all on black” was the card-accompanying suggestion; “18 Black” was another but on our wheel 18 was red so what to do? Another said you can’t lose on Keno machines. Chips collected we did a little roulette, a little blackjack and some slots but even with advice from the locals (on reflection they probably wouldn’t tell us how to win would they?) the first fifty had gone in minutes. With a minimum bet of $10 and no hint of a one-off win let alone a streak, we decided we were crap gamblers, nobody playing looked very happy and that we’d be forgiven for investing the remainder in wine and sake to accompany our imminent Nobu meal.

We had eaten at Nobu in London a while ago and knew it still had a few stars around the empire. It would take us back to Japan and so seemed the best place to celebrate. And how! The manager arrived at our table with a trainee waiter in attendance and asked if it was OK. Well I don’t object to medical students in the surgery so if someone can learn proper service I’m all for it. We are given a cocktails menu and select what has become a real favourite for Dee a dirty cucumber martini for her and a whiskey sour for me, followed by a very nice Albariño from Rias Baixas to accompany what we expected to be a fish influenced meal. The first of these arrived and we sipped and campai-ed each other. Then the duo returned and the manager still presented no menu but rather talked to us about the kind of food we had enjoyed in Japan.

Dirty cucumber He nodded noted and inwardly digested, excuse the pun, and promised us a succession of dishes we would enjoy. The glow of his confidence obviously enveloped us and then it dawned on us that we had no idea what all this was going to cost us. It’s not often in my life that I’ve been in the situation where if you need to ask the price you can’t afford to buy, so we settled back enjoyed our cocktails and waited for the procession.

And that’s what it was – a procession of dishes carefully planned to complement each other and move us through a stunning evening. Presentation was so superb you didn’t really want to spoil the layout but hunger and curiosity overcame us. Sliver-sliced squid with yuzu sauce, sea bream sashimi with ponzu dressing, waygu beef carpaccio with sesame and spring onions, and several others I’ll need the bill to identify.

Finally our dinnertastic duo returned bearing no plates but enquired what we would like for dessert. After protesting that we weren’t really pudding people we agreed to have some ice cream and set them a little test. We thought they would manage green tea and possibly black sesame two of our favourite flavours from our time in Japan. However our absolute favourite was white peach which we’d first discovered in Okayama. We were sure they wouldn’t have that. They trumped us by bringing out three bowls of ice cream with all three flavours offset with a smidgeon of appropriate fruit and chocolate piping on the dish reading “Happy Anniversary”.

Sheer class! As were the delightful hammered silver teapots from which we poured our sake. It’s great when service like that makes it such an occasion that you absolutely know whatever it cost it was worth it.

Untempted by further slots and tables and excited on our anniversary and last night in the US, we took a bottle up to our room and played music and Take Two (a brilliant Scrabble variant for those who haven’t encountered it) until 3 am when we thought we’d better go to bed as we had to pack and get to the airport by one o’clock to check in for our flight back to Gatwick. We’d promised ourselves another Hooter-free visit to the pool but packing got lengthy and we wouldn’t have made it before it was check out time – we’d already negotiated an hour extension beyond the usual 11:00. Returning the car was easier than picking it up and we checked in, did security and headed for the none-too-special lounge The Club at LAS. However it beat sitting out in the general departure lounge by a long way.

The flight back was a bit delayed and we hit Gatwick about half an hour late but otherwise it was fine. Having landed just before midday and had a trusty south east London Data Cars cab to take us home I was at the computer at three checking whether I would be able to manage a deadline of the end of July for some urgent work for the Dutch publishing agency I work for. They’d enquired while we’d been away and I was keen to do the work if I could – these jaunts have to be paid for somehow. So it’s been back to the grindstone (a very pleasant one) ever since for them and the design and branding agency Maverick, hence my sloth in completing our US blogs.

And I felt bad when I wrote that in 2014. Then life, work, sickness and death intervened and here we are with a July 2014 trip finally documented in April 2017. Gentle reader (if any such there be) thanks for your patience.

Boston + July 2014, Retro-blogs

Back in Vegas

Genie over LV We completed the drive back to Vegas with no hiccups. There was a strange cloud formation that looked like the genie had been let out of the bottle so we wondered if it meant our luck would be in. We drove into the self-park at the Hard Rock eagerly anticipating our move to our new non-smoking room. We still had the keys to the old room and went there first.

We retrieved an answerphone message to the effect that arrangements had been made to move us but we needed to confirm by 6 pm. Of course it’s now gone 7 and we missed our slot. A call to reception promised to sort it out. Several more phone calls to check progress, and not even a drink in our room, caused both us and our receptionist to lose it a bit. She eventually promised us an upgrade to a junior suite for our trouble. It was a nice room and certainly didn’t smell of smoke but had a magnificent view of the car park in place of the view of pools and palms we had in the first one. Reception 1 – Lesley/Raggett 0. Genie rating not auspicious.

After a day of driving and two hours of hassle we were disinclined to go out so stayed in the Hard Rock, went to confirm our booking at Nobu for the next evening and then ate perfectly adequately but unmemorably in another of the hotel’s outlets. Given our lengthy wait for a room change our choice was reduced somewhat as most of them stop serving at 10:00. We don’t want people eating when they could be spending real money do we?

After a comfortable night in our king size bed with no views to distract us we tested the SatNav with a trip to the suburbs. In Boston Dee had discovered many garments to her taste and budget in a store called Talbots. There’s a Talbots in Las Vegas and there’s a sale on. It’s in Rampart Commons Shopping District – oh please let there be no more enticing lizards on these ramparts! (For those who weren’t there a fateful encounter took place on a Watford pre-season tour in Ibiza in 2004 when a discussion with a lizard on Ibiza town ramparts resulted in a team of plastic lizards with full squad names and painted numbers being entered in a five-a-side tournament – don’t ask!).

It started on the ramparts Keeping the shape

We had a fascinating half-hour ride through the plusher suburbs (not much featured in CSI) with neat detached houses, corner mini malls, swimming pools in profusion and well-kept streets. We found Talbots with no trouble and suffice it to say I emerged wearing several bags and Dee a beaming smile.

On our way back in we drove the length of the strip. Now we know we have to do it at night but we have a date at Nobu for our wedding anniversary dinner. Even by daylight finding the Eiffel Tower, a pyramid, the canals of Venice and many other fantasy buildings lining the street was quite staggering enough.

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To have examined them each in detail would have been kitsch overkill. There was the massive tower of Caesar’s Palace and the prospect of interesting beer among the other strip attractions we passed.

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So we retreated to the Hard Rock and got a couple of hours by the Nirvana Pool before being kicked out for a private function. It transpires that despite having their own hotel and casino in Vegas, Hooters had taken the Hard Rock over for the week with performance prizes, beauty pageants, recruitment sessions and a whole load more. I guess this was an international gathering so they wanted the home team to feel they were somewhere different. I had no idea there were 430 Hooters in 28 countries the only one in the UK being in Nottingham. I didn’t know that as I haven’t there been for ages – and it’s probably not our kind of place anyway. So there was nothing for it but to freshen up, frock up and head for the tables prior to our Nobu dinner.

Boston + July 2014, Retro-blogs

More Canyon and kicks on Route 66

Grand Canyon Post card Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny so we decided to go back and see more of the Grand Canyon in full sunlight. And what a difference! Colours were brighter, shadows more intense and it seemed even further and deeper down that we spied a wiggle of the Colorado. We bought some Junior Ranger gifts for the grandchildren in the visitor centre which doubles as a small museum of the history of the Grand Canyon village.

Kolb Studio

We then walked down to the Kolb Studio a tribute to two brothers who made a small fortune out of filming and photographing pioneer activity in the canyon and selling prints to the prospectors. The lengths they went to in order to get their footage would make a modern day risk assessor apoplectic – but then we’d never have had this amazing archive so sometimes you do just have to forget the rules.

We set off along the rim footpath which announced itself as “easy walking” rather than taking the Bright Angel Trail which descended into the canyon but was described as a day-long trip for experienced hikers. We didn’t have a day and we’re not in that good shape. As it transpired the easy walk needed quite a lot of puff as there were some sharp inclines that required people younger than us to pause by the side of the track to get their second wind. It was well worth it though and took us to the memorial to John Wesley Powell claimed as the first explorer of the Grand Canyon. Well he might have been the first white American explorer but the Havasupai and Hualapai have lived in and around the canyon for some 800 years. Each time you reach one of these strategically located lookouts you see different aspects of the gorge with informative explanatory plaques. Grand Canyon 2

Proposed-GC-hotel_thumb Who knew there was an abandoned uranium mine called the Orphan Mine? I then learned thanks to The Guardian that there are proposals to reopen it which have brought howls of protests from environmentalists about the effects of uranium mining on the scarce water supply in the canyon area and on wildlife. Nor did I know that when it first closed there was a proposal to build a multi-storey hotel actually inside the rim – artist’s impression on the right.

Hopi dance On our return via the shuttle bus to Grand Canyon Village we were presented with a display of dancing from the Hualapai outside the Hopi House one of the main attractions of the village. They were energetic and slightly threatening and reminded us of the Ainu dances we’d seen in Hokkaido.

We then set off back towards Vegas early in the afternoon and as we approached the interstate opted instead for a drive along self-proclaimed with monotonous regularity “historic” Route 66.

The road itself was great – empty of traffic except for a Havasupai Reservation Police jeep at one point – surrounded by rolling hills and agriculture and then we came to the sign “Entering Seligman”. Obviously you’d have to be a hermit not to have heard “Get your kicks on Route 66”. I think I first remember the Chuck Berry version but Nat King Cole did it first and the Rolling Stones and many others followed. In a fabulous piece of municipal self-promotion Seligman claims to be the heart of Route 66. It’s fabulous – low buildings line a broad street. There are Harley Davidson outlets and repairs shops, lots of them. There are hotels, motels and roadhouses. There is the famous Road Kill Diner: motto “You Kill It, We Grill It”.

Seligman sign Seligman sundries Road Kill Road Kill interior

Dee waiting on 66 After waiting in vain for some fresh road kill and having a beer in its dollar bill papered interior we chose a German themed diner opposite with good craft beer – Dogfish Head IPA – where do they get these names? We had lunch served by a lady with such exquisitely coiffed hair that she would not have been out of place in a 1950s movie.

Dogfish Head beer