Sintra

From having not been away away in forever, to a sudden flurry of trips, I've not been able to keep up with myself!

So, I write this first post (possibly of 4, maybe even 5.. strap in!) in retrospect. Hopeful that I haven't forgotten anything, but also aware that realistically, I probably will have. One thing I won't forget in a hurry is the feeling I had as I lay on a yoga mat in the middle of an enchanted forest in Portugal, having only been at work less than 24-hours before. Pure bliss. Surreal, but pure bliss.

I think booking a retreat for our first adventure abroad in over two years was definitely the right thing to do. It was an utterly magical day among a small group of lovely women, in a really beautiful setting. We shared. Experiences, stories, expression, an enchanting space, a delicious lunch; it felt like a real 'welcome back'. And even 3 months on, I'm still carrying the energy with me. I'm still asking the questions; still keen to learn more. Someone actually suggested the other day that I should blog about my yoga journey. If I do, I think the Sintra retreat might be where I start.

But, for now, I'll move on to the evening after. Having arrived in the dark on the previous evening in a taxi that hurtled along the narrow, cobbled streets the wrong way (my Portuguese may be next to non-existent, but I can still recognise signs for one-way streets), then headed straight out to the retreat the next morning, we hadn't really had time to get our bearings.

So, when our day in the forest came to a close, we wandered slowly back to our apartment; taking a little more time to admire Sintra in all its fairy-tale glory (made even more charming in the evening sun). That evening, we learned that we'd be eating a lot of bacalhau, especially at the particular restaurant we had chosen where they served nothing but (it's cod, by the way). 

The next day, the weather had turned. But it was dry, so we headed to Cascais for a day by the sea. Found a nice, sheltered spot on a small beach in a bay where we stayed until lunch; people watching, splashing in the sea, and telling ourselves that it definitely was just about bikini weather..

One of the women at the retreat had recommended a place in Cascais by the lighthouse which offered live radio and good food. So, we walked there for lunch along the waterfront and past some interesting buildings (and a volleyball tournament (we didn't stop)).

Sam was glad that we opted to climb the lighthouse before eating, as once at the top, she may have otherwise lost her lunch. In going up when we did, we also seemed to beat the crowd. Sat at the bottom looking up as we ate, it certainly seemed a lot more popular all of a sudden (we're clearly just such trend-setters).

After food, we were back on the bus, and on our way to another recommended spot; Adraga Beach.

The weather had still not improved, but having grown up spending time on Norfolk beaches in all weathers, in all seasons, we were not deterred. Seemed this particular beach was a popular spot with surfers; we were taken aback by the power of the waves as we wandered along the sand, and between rocks.

As much as we didn't want to tear ourselves away, we were aware that time was pressing on, and we were ever-so-slightly in the middle of nowhere (eek!) with a fairly hefty walk back up a hill to where we'd be catching the bus.

Well, Google Maps failed us. And while there's a fairly long story here somewhere, I'll spare you the details and just say that we were truly grateful to the elderly gentleman who entertained us with his fashioning (and testing) of some sort of pan flute made from plastic tubing, as we sat on the kerb outside his house. He really did sound surprisingly good!

Eventually, the bus came (of course not before two others that couldn't take us where we needed to go appeared) and it was back to town for dinner and an early night to recover.

Aahh, the Pena Palace. Just when we thought the weather couldn't get any better, it didn't. It got worse. A whole lot worse. But in true British-tourist style, we powered on through (well, and we were lulled into a slightly false sense of security as we headed out into sunshine in the town itself in the morning).

..actually, it wasn't exactly sunny, was it?

One thing we learned about Sintra is that it's a bit of a micro-climate. And as our bus climbed up the mountain rounds, there was a distinct shift. The Pena Palace of pictures was barely visible as we reached the end of the line for entry. It was comical, really, how determined we all were to have a nice time as we stood in the queue being battered by wind and horizontal rain. Some of us had been sensible enough to have at least something waterproof to hand, but many of us had not (although, as I tried to reason, skin is waterproof.. isn't it?).

Maybe not what we'd expected, it was still an experience and we made the best of it. The cloud did clear up at least enough to appreciate the palace's colourful facade, and our walk through the gardens was at least dry.

The Castle of the Moors, we both agreed, would definitely make for a lovely family day out on a bright and sunny day. We soldiered on, but by this point, we really were getting very wet, and could barely see where we were going as we climbed up steps and along the ruined walls, let alone admire any views of the town and countryside below. Wet through to our unmentionables, it was time to swallow our pride and call it a day.

A warm shower, and a swift change into some dry clothes back at the apartment, we found ourselves in a lovely little restaurant almost right next door, where the waiter (possibly the owner, too) was very keen for us to try the desserts he'd just whipped up for the evening service. We did, and they were delicious.

Having abandoned our palace / castle crawl the previous day, we resolved to fit one more in before we would make our way back to Lisbon for our flight home.

Maybe it was in part an improvement in the weather, but I think either way we both agreed that we'd saved the best til last. Much of the palace itself was closed off for refurbishment, but the gardens were great fun to explore. We enjoyed spiralling down into the depths of the well, crossing various bridges, climbing towers, and walking through the grotto.

Finally, after a bite to eat, it was time to collect our luggage from the Tourist Information office and board a train to Lisbon.

Having spent longer than we anticipated in Sintra in the morning, our Lisbon exploration was brief, and a little bit frantic. But it was nice to crash a honeymoon (don't worry, they were expecting us), and to enjoy refreshment while enjoying a view over the sea in the sunshine (typical). Oh, and there was definitely time for tram hysteria, so that was good.

I think a few days away was the perfect amount to ease us into holiday-ing again. And it was very grounding (if that's the right word) to see people we knew. A very special trip, all round, really. Maybe we'll be back for more retreating in the not too distant future. I hope.

Finding light in January

Yes my body is still exhausted (although having written that first line a few weeks ago, I'm pleased to report that over the last week or so my legs have actually felt a lot lighter walking to and from school). Yes the sky has generally been far too grey and gloomy. Yes I would happily return to the Christmas Holidays with their comfy-cosiness and total lack of responsibility. But actually, January's not been so bad this year. I've been doing my best to find a little light where I can!


As always, there's been plenty of walking. Whereas the dark after the Summer crept in so fast I barely even noticed the change, in Winter I've been paying close attention to the lighter mornings and evenings, too. Even though it's only a minute or so every couple of days, it's been a nice small thing to celebrate as I walk to and sometimes from school.

In the second weekend of January, Steven and I took a new walk from home to Wandsworth Common. The circuit was pleasant, and took us a little way along the Wandle, some of the way along my usual school route, then up hill at Earlsfield and past many a gorgeous house in what's apparently known as 'the ladder' (although not the Haringey one), and onto the Common itself.

Never one to shy away from a walk, I do find myself walking slightly less in Winter if not only for the fact that there is less light. Leave it too late at a weekend, and you're chasing the sun. So it felt good even in January to feel as though we had a little more time. Yes, the sun was setting as we made our way home, but it wasn't quite dark by the time we made it, and then when it was, we were ready to get comfy-cosy and embrace it anyway.

Today, I've walked from Hampton Station to Hampton Court Palace for a school trip recce. Actually choosing for once to come away from the Thames, instead I took a detour through Bushy Park as I'd never been before. Got fairly soggy on my way home this afternoon in the 'light rain', but I was pleasantly surprised by a short but sweet appearance from the sun this morning.

I've been practising yoga intermittently since I moved to London. Introduced by my friend Sam, I've had an on-off relationship with it (like with any exercise, really) but recently I've been re-invigorated and have been enjoying a daily practise since the start of December. As is my preference with food, little and often seems to suit me well, and I'm really embracing yoga as part of my morning routine now.

This month I've been following Yoga With Adriene for some yummy at home yoga which means PJs, scented candles, and intrigued cats. Shocking, I know, but I'm pretty fussy when it comes to classes. Temperature, teacher, the playlist, a lack of playlist, smelly yoga mats, lighting, the list of elements that can make or break a yoga class' atmosphere is endless.. But at home, I'm far more content in my little yoga bubble where I can control almost every foreseeable factor.

Even on the mornings when I haven't quite felt up to getting out of bed those 30 minutes early, I've had a little light waiting for me, and it's been really reassuring and just such a good way to start my day.

For the third year (we think), Sam (of yoga introducing fame) and I went to Canary Wharf for their Winter Lights festival. Ever the optimistic, I felt as though we were in luck because it wasn't so cold as previous years.. but by light installation number 26, and 3 hours later, my numb hands had suggested otherwise.

Numbness aside, it was another beautiful year. And we were so pleased to have actually had time to see every installation this year! Choosing to go in numerical order, we followed the map from 1 through to 26 and loved the theme of reusable materials that seemed to be running through a lot of the installations.

Without the cold driving us to move on, we probably could have stopped and stared at a fair few which had particularly mesmerising qualities. As always, it was a lovely way to spend a Friday night, and the perfect way to find a little extra light in January.

February brings with it a half term, so I'm hoping for a little more adventure, but I'm also determined to stick to my New Year's resolution of taking it slow. Perhaps a slower paced January has also left me feeling a little lighter. Who knows?

Woah, we went to Ibiza!

... please have understood that the title of this goes to the tune of Vengaboys. Otherwise that was totally lost and thus pointless.

Back in England and it has been truly English in its grey, miserable presentation of 'summer'. Deciding to give in to the fact that we clearly already had summer, somewhere between May and June, I've actually been feeling rather excited recently by the prospect of autumn and the return of tights under my denim shorts, Pumpkin Spice Lattes and the leaves changing colour. Nevertheless, a short visit to somewhere where the summer is still in full swing did remind me how much I also love the sun, and the warmth that can sometimes come with it. Such a cynic.

This holiday has been mostly spent slaving away over my dissertation which it's beginning to feel like I've been writing forever. Ten days til I'm free and I cannot wait. I haven't written for pleasure in so long, I'm not even sure I remember how. So forgive me if this is even more long and rambling than usual. Postcards, postcards!

Made friends with an inquisitive little lizard

Despite the pressures of academia, I couldn't go the whole summer without an escape so managed to book a few days away with a most excellent travel companion, and so began our adventure. Friday night arrived and off we flew to the island, far away from 'this big town and the rain' (Vengaboys got it so right). I've never been on a flight with so much excited buzz. Time flew as we caught up on recent happenings, laughing and chatting too with other passengers. Choosing to stay on the quieter side of the island, even the bars in our hotel had closed by the time we arrived so we were straight to bed, eagerly awaiting what tomorrow would bring.

... a room with a view

Our first day was spent blissfully enjoying the hotel's facilities; reading, eating, napping, drinking, then eating and drinking some more, all from the comfort of a lounger in the sun. Only my second stay in an all-inclusive hotel, the constant food rotation (breakfast - continental breakfast - lunch - snack - afternoon tea - dinner) was a delight. In the evening we were treated to a beautiful sunset before being entertained by the sounds of the most surreal covers band complete with 'keytar' and multiple costume changes. Also tried to teach each other a few card games, which after several glasses of bubbles proved a challenge, but also highly entertaining.

The hotel sat right on the sea, with beautiful views over the bay of Cala Llonga. Only a small stretch of sand, the beach was a matter of moments away along a coastal path lined with pine trees, incredibly reminiscent of Mallorca. Here we spent a few hours napping some more, with the occasional visit to the sea for a cooling paddle and an attempt at spotting some fish in the crystal clear waters. Eventually rousing from an incredibly cosy nap, curled up in the foetal position under the shade of a parasol, it was already time for us to head back to the hotel in preparation for our impending doom. An actual night out in Ibiza.

Ushuaïa was another surreal experience; somewhere between a music festival and a club night. The first set already under way as we arrived, groups of guys and girls hung around the edges a little like at the school disco, only each one was armed with a drink that had set them back almost 20€. Lost in people watching from our chosen spot on the edge, we didn't really notice the place fill up but suddenly it did and we made our way to the middle of the crowd where we very much enjoyed dancing and singing along to the next two sets. Smoke machines, pyrotechnics, confetti and costumed dancers, all around a pool where a few of the happier members of the crowd danced knee deep in water, it was certainly a fun experience and enough to make us realise that we need to revive at least a little bit of our love for nights out. In our old age, we were glad that this one had a midnight end point so we were safely tucked up in bed with cups of tea by 1am. Perfection.

EDX's set was definitely my highlight

Already at our penultimate day, spurred on perhaps by a small taste of the Ibiza experience, we decided not to hide out around our hotel again but instead to venture to Ibiza Town (Eivissa) for an explore. I had hoped from a little research online that it might have some pretty bits but neither of us were prepared for just how pretty it actually was. Our taxi dropped us at the port and from there we wandered along to the marina, ooh-ing and aah-ing at super-yachts of the rich and famous. 

Super-yachts were yet to come...

Pretty cobbled streets wound away from the marina so we took one of these, sort of following sign posts of interest where we felt that we could understand at least some of the Spanish. So many pretty doorways, colourful flowers, and bright painted window frames all looked beautiful against the white walls of the buildings and blue sky above. Agreeing to take it slow uphill and in the heat (we learned our lesson in Santorini), we took many short stops on brick walls in shady and breezy spots. 

Our wanders took us most of the way around the walls of the old town, each battlement providing yet another panoramic view of the island's rolling hills, rooftops and the sea beyond. Passion fruit sorbet, a seemingly impossible-to-find cathedral, a busker with a beautiful voice and plenty of small gift shops to pop into for browsing and air conditioning kept us well entertained. So we headed back to Cala Llonga for the evening sun and a meal in the hotel's Japanese restaurant where our lack of subtlety in wanting to try as much of the menu as possible resulted in an extra dessert (apple and wasabi sorbet; actually so much tastier than either of us had anticipated). 

The final day of our stay came around all too quickly. It seems we built ourselves up from dozy to active as, despite the exertion of the previous day, our final day was definitely the most active. We began the day with an early breakfast followed by a serene yoga session in the dappled shade of the hotel's tennis courts. By the time we had then packed ready for check-out and got outside, there seemed to be no room for us to lounge in the sun but fortunately we found some stray loungers and pulled them together by the pool. There we enjoyed watching others exert themselves in aqua gym and a game of water volleyball whilst we made full use of hotel perks.Well rested, we made our way again to the beach where we hired a pedalo for an explore of the bay from a different perspective. Trying to navigate nude sailors, snorkelers galore and many a mysterious floating object, we had great fun and felt like expert pedalo 'drivers' by the time we were pulling up on the shore.

Not long til our departure, we decided to have a game of table tennis which proved incredibly challenging in the wind. Accidental trick shots played by the peak of a cap, our bat-free hands and other body parts which shall remain nameless provided much entertainment until it was time for our scheduled shower, one more sunset and a final go at the buffet before our transfer to the airport.

Considering I'd never been to Spain until only a few summers ago, I'm thoroughly enjoying becoming better acquainted. Ibiza is a beautiful island and true to my style I feel like we did plenty for a few days away but have also left plenty to be done if another visit arises. We shall see!

Waiting for payday

Tomorrow I finally get paid. It feels like forever since the last payday as this month saw several hefty outgoings and left me without any spending money over the past few weeks.

Fortunately I did make an incredibly pleasant discovery which got me through the latter half of the month. Turned out my contactless card for my student account still had actual money on it so I have at least been able to travel to and from work (yippee!). Usually topping up my Oyster is the one expense I can't avoid!

For the first time since I arrived in London I do have savings though! Pretty strict with myself when I really want to be, I refuse to dig into it, so I have basically become a hermit.

Over the past few weekends, in my bid to avoid spending I have become a master in the art of pootling; taking it slow, getting stuff done at a relaxed pace while enjoying music discovery/re-discovery. Many evenings have been whiled away on Netflix and iPlayers or in the company of books before bed (in addition to this saving malarky, I'm also half-attempting to cut back on screen time straight after and before bed in the hope that it might improve my sleep).

I have been taking pleasure in the little things. Tuesday nights pre-choir I've made an attempt to explore the City en route to feel as though I've at least had some adventure in my week! The weekend just gone was particularly special as we finally sorted out our little London garden! It is officially looking like a proper garden and I can't wait for sunny weekends and warm evenings so we can sit out and enjoy it! I did also manage to spend last Friday night doing something other than my laundry and or tackling the mountain of washing up that grows over the course of a week as I had pre-booked tickets to the Magnificent Obsessions exhibition at Barbican which proved highly intriguing, positively puzzling and thoroughly entertaining all at the same time.

Fingers crossed this month brings with it a few less expensive hurdles (although I am fully aware that the yoga membership I am going to treat myself to will hardly come cheap... all for a good cause!) I wish myself luck, especially as the bank holiday weekend looms.

In the meantime, Instagram is always there to make me feel like I'm doing something with my days...

A welcome duck pond (complete with fish) where I sat to eat before choir one Tuesday.

Days spent at home tend to be those where I dress the most impractically... got to get my kicks somehow!

I also spend far too much time 'organising'. Pretty happy with my little Norfolk corner though, I must say!

Another Tuesday, another lovely spot for food. Guildhall in all its glory.

Revelling in the artistic talents of a 6-year-old.

I would love to live in Barbican.

Filled with pride; our little London garden!

I even got the oboe out for a honk. Desperate times?

At least dog walks on Wimbledon Common are free. (Just wanted an excuse to show off my new wellies really...)