Postcard from Rome – well, not quite. Currently being herded like cattle – through the building site that is Leeds Bradford Airport. If this is a traveller’s first impression of Yorkshire, then god only knows what they will expect from the rest of their trip. But Leeds Bradford is not really an airport; more a service station – for planes. It is the worst kind of service station. Where your time is fully chargeable. £5 for a bap – that comes without the bap. £3 for an express route service that still takes 30 minutes and really only improves the service by 0.001%. You really need a holiday just to get over the airport experience! This is the first of a series of posts from
Holiday Archive
I’m sat in a busy kitchen with families running around me – including sections of my own – and I am closed away in my own thoughts; planning this latest post. But then I am on holiday. I am supposed to be enjoying myself. Writing is one of the few ways by which I have learnt to enjoy being myself. There is a confession to be made about this holiday, one that won’t surprise anyone that really knows me – it is that the prospect of this holiday filled me with dread and fear when the idea was first proposed. Friends are great, fantastic and an absolute pleasure to be around – but very much like other people’s children – they are great to hand
I know it’s been a month or so since we were out in Italy, but there is an episode from our trip that I’ve been meaning to share. An episode which shows that no matter how difficult a situation might first appear – languages can be broken down with a simple smile, wave of the hands and a plate of food; lots of food. The friend we were staying with in Italy had once taken us to a fantastic agriturismo just north of the main vineyards of Barolo and Asti. Agriturismos are old farms that have been converted in to holiday lets/B&Bs, with the view that they are able to secure tourism grants as long as they promote and provide the food and drink of
Alan Whicker’s experience of foreign travel taught him that learning languages was less important than a confident, cheerful attitude. That may work for a renowned international traveller and media star, but what about the rest of us – simple, lazy travellers. I’ve just got back off of a Mediterranean holiday. Menorca you see. The island has nothing to offer bar a nudist beach and a package holiday destination that may or may not appeal depending on how old you are. That’s a lie. It offers cheap wine – no, that’s vin or is it vino? Either way, it’s very drinkable. I came armed with a standard phrase. J’ai voudrais Cerveza alla spina – cheers. Did that make sense? Did I get what I wanted? My