January in Paris

I have been caught up in a love affair with Paris ever since I  first sat, awestruck in the sun-basked Jardin des Tuileries at the age of six. Since then, I have spent many a happy few days deepening my love for the city; including a gorgeous summer trip with my lovely sister in August. I am  therefore a very lucky girl as I managed to slip away with the Ginge for another four days, this time in January. As with all of our holidays, the main plan was to wander and absorb, to fill-up on delicious food, wine & coffee and to wallow in each others company. I have to say that we did this exceptionally well, even for us! Every morning we found a new little cafe serving strong espresso, crunchy french bread and fruity conserves to prepare us for days in the bitter cold and snow. Days were spent introducing the Ginge to my favourite parts of the city. Le Marais with its winding streets, quirky design shops and the majestic Place des Vosgues. Les Halles with its cobbled streets, tiny cafes and incredible food shops. We strolled along the Seine, with Juliette Greco playing in my head all the while. We revelled in the splendour of the Musee d'Orsay and I melted, as I do everytime into the beauty of Les Nympheas at L'Orangerie. We struck gold with dinners in simple, but stunning little restaurants and we got to ride on trains there and back. All in all, it was my kind of trip. Now I just have to persuade myself that it would be unreasonable to go back for a third time in twelve months. 

Birding on a Sunday Afternoon

Having spent all of last week trudging about under low, grey light, it was a delight to wake to clear blue skies, bright sunshine and most of the settled snow melted away. We kept our fingers crossed that it would last all day. And it did. We spent our afternoon at RSPB Old Moor nature reserve. The whole place was bathed in beautiful, golden light as the wind shook swathes of grass alongside the still partially frozen water. Bramblings, chaffinches and tree sparrows chattered in the hedgerows whilst teals, tufted ducks and widgeons paddled through the wetlands. Magic! 

An Autumn Escape and the Start of Preparations

As you know, the Ginge and I like to partake in the occasional burst of escapism. During this year's very autumnal October, we packed our bags with warm layers, gloves and sturdy shoes and set off for a few days in Appleby-in-Westmorland. We stayed in a perfect little converted Pump House and enjoyed a week of solitude. We reveled in simplicity and ate hearty, homemade risottos, soups and cinnamon oatmeal. We chatted for hours in cafes, explored stone circles and wandered around deserted National Trust gardens, full of apple trees dripping with fruit. In many ways, Autumn is my favourite time of year. I love the homeliness, the root vegetables, the spices and the primal need to hunker down in cozy places and take stock ready for the colder months. Those colder months have most certainly arrived and with them bring my other great love, the festive season. Today is the 1st of December and the preparations are soon to begin. We are starting with a trip into the Peak District, where our friends are hosting a Christmas Fair at their pub. Bring on the hot, mulled drinks and the cheery red cheeks, nipped by cold. There is a lot still to do, including making our annual hampers full of goodies, decorating the house, lots of singing and sending out my Christmas cards (they have just arrived from here and look great. More on all of that soon. What are you doing to prepare for Christmas? 

Just Us and the Big City

A few weeks ago, the Ginge passed his membership exams and thankfully we managed to squeeze a couple of days off so that we could go to his admission ceremony at the Royal College of Physicians. It was an extremely proud moment for both of us. The Ginge was calm and confident as he collected his certificate, whilst I just beamed from the visitors gallery. It was lovely  to spend some time relaxing and wandering in London. Everything that happened, we needed; the opportunity to celebrate all of his hard work paying off, a chance to stay with dear friends,  Shakespearean belly-laughs watching Twelfth Night at the Globe and quiet moments with tea and a beloved view. Simple, spontaneous, familiar and exploratory with room for joy and calm in equal measure. Just after I took the last photograph, I realised my shoulders had dropped; relinquishing their usual tense grip over my body and giving way to relaxation. Sometimes it's hard to find moments like that, but when we do, our life truly feels so sweet.  

Photographs taken at Fleet River Bakery, The Royal College (old and new), 
Le Comptoir, The Globe and Tate Modern. 

Soul Cal

So much for 'I left my heart in San Francisco', I think I left little bits of mine dotted all the way down the west coast. On leaving Shell Beach, we broke from Highway 1 for the first time since Santa Cruz and cut across to the 101; a very different, but equally beautiful road. In place of the continuous coastline are miles of undulating fields; growing everything from corn to strawberries. We stopped briefly in the lovely little village of Los Olivos, where we mooched through the sleepy and roastingly-hot streets, pottered around beautiful shops and drank iced tea in the shade. That night we stayed in a canvas, safari tent near a canyon. It was magical. We spent the evening barbequeing over a fire pit (expertly built and lit by the Ginge) and chatting away as darkness fell over the camp. It was a welcome return to nature and wildness, which I had missed earlier in the trip and gave me a great opportunity to teach the Ginge how to make smores. Needless to say, he is now a total convert! 

I love Shell Beach

It's not often that I fall in love with somewhere so entirely, so quickly, but Shell Beach is pretty special. We actually only stayed there for one night, albeit on the vehement recommendation of some friends, but I did in fact cry on leaving. What a loser! We stayed in the most perfect little hotel, run by the loveliest people who made us feel as though we were at home (so welcome after nearly two weeks on the road) and did nothing but swim in the pool, walk along the coast in the sunset and then have dinner at the most beautiful restaurant that was pretty much all window, overlooking the ocean. It was a dream. It also introduced me to an amazing flavour combination - homemade tortillas with cinnamon butter. Oh my, so good. One day, we will go back and stay longer. We will, we will. 

The Rugged Coast of Big Sur

I'm a bit of a sucker for getting emotional over beauty (the Ginge will laugh when he reads that as he'd say I get emotional over pretty much anything and he'd be right). The natural beauty of the outdoors just does something to me. Open fields cry out to be run through, cliffs to be scrambled on, mountains to be climbed, seas to be swum in. The coast of big sur is one big heart-swelling sweet-shop of beauty. All along route 1, the road drops down on one side to the bluest of seas, cut by cliffs tumbling with bright flowers and succulents. I wish we had had time to go exploring around one of the little coves, but it was enough just to breathe it all in from the top. As they say in Local Hero 'You can't eat scenery', but it definitely makes it more delicious, so we stopped at Nepenthe - without question the most picturesque burger I have ever eaten and utterly scrumptious.

On the Boardwalk

California is not new to me. In fact, it is a very beautiful part of the way I grew up. Thanks to a chance meeting of like-minded people on a train to Florence, almost thirty years ago, we have friends as good as family in the Golden State. Many of my childhood summers were spent road-tripping around and falling deeply in love with the wonderful country, so this summer was all about finding my California again and showing it to my boy. The warmth of the ground, the cool dampness of the pacific breeze, the smell of warm pine needles and that fragrant sweetness, which I can't quite put my finger on, the taste of cinnamon; all making me feel at home in my memories. This is Santa Cruz: home of the Beach Boardwalk, where you can half imagine you're a giggly girl of the 1950s, wearing a starched swing dress and peering nonchalantly at your strapping young date from behind a puff of candyfloss. Here we did things properly. We stayed at a Super 8 motel, rode the 1925 rollercoaster, strolled on the beach, dipped our toes in the pacific, caught the old train up to the redwoods,  went to the bowling alley, saw Berlin performing 'Take my Breath Away', walked along the coast to Natural Bridges, ate corndogs and churros and chilled out with a coffee and a book at Mr Toot's Coffee House in colourful Capitola. Definitely a place to lose yourself in imagination, which I feel we did to great effect.