Wednesday, 27 August 2025

Ontario

1st – 11th August 2025

 

Jill’s cousins in Canada all seem to congregate in the summer at their cottages on Lake Rideau in central Ontario. Each family has their own property on various islands and shorelines close to the eastern shore of the big largest lake. And they expressed a wish for us to join them for a week. Micheal and Ginny invited us to stay with them for a few days and also offered to pick us up from the nearest railway station. Although August tends to get a little hot, it suited us to fly over for a week-long break in the first week of the month.


Friday/Saturday 1st/2nd August     Getting to Lake Rideau

Air Transat had a conveniently timed flight from Manchester to Toronto on Friday lunchtime so we had lots of time for breakfast and last-minute packing before our taxi arrived to take us to the airport. It was our old friend the Gurkha Veteran who drove us, a bit more sedately this time. The 13.25 departure time was achieved with the minimum delay and we landed ahead of schedule in Toronto in the late afternoon. With all the kerfuffle of baggage reclaims, it was 5pm local time by the time we were heading for the UP-line train to Union Station. A twenty- minute walk to Bob and Arlene’s apartment saw us safely installed in our accommodation. We ate at the Market Steet Catch restaurant just round the corner. Fried calamari, a lager and a bottle of rose wine prepared us for a good night’s sleep.

An early start the next morning gave us time for a quick breakfast on the walk back to Union Station and we were still in good time for the 08.32 train to Kingston. This was, unusually we were informed, spot on time and by 11.am we were greeting Michael. It was less than an hour’s drive north to Portland and onto Michael’s boat at Bay View marina. He dropped us off at John and Phyllis’ lakeside cottage where we stayed for two nights whilst Michael and Ginny entertained their family. In the evening, we sailed over to meet Christopher and Jonathon and their families and to have a meal with them. It was here that I had my first Canadian real ale, Muskoka IPA from an Ontario-based brewery.

On Sunday morning I was invited to join John and Phyllis on their daily 2-mile walk through their local woods. Before we set off, a sticky strip of tape was applied to the back of my Tilley hat to divert the expected attacks of deer flies. John lent me his walking poles and then strode off down the overgrown path with barely a pause or backward glance. 52 minutes later and we were home and examining

the deer flies stuck to my hat. Although this had mitigated against the worst of insect bites, I was still bitten on both arms and was scratching the itchy skin for the rest of the week. All this excitement called for an afternoon of reading and siesta before we set out across the lake to Bob and Arlene’s for a belated birthday meal and family gathering. I blessed the fact there were no vegans in the family as I enjoyed the lovely meat and some IPA from Perth brewery. The red wine was a limited edition called Lois Rae, available to family and friends only.

 

Sunday 3rd – Saturday 9th August 2025     Life on the Lake; a Week with Michael and Ginny

Michael sailed over early on Monday morning to rescue us from the breakfast-free regime of the Rae family. We were given a choice of accommodation and, rather than the rather remote ‘Bunky’ cottage, we picked a lovely light bedroom in the main house with a fabulous view over the lake. After lunch, Michael and I boated back to the marina and walked a section of the Cataraqui Trail, an old railway track that ran parallel to the lakeside. We enjoyed a lovely meal of salmon in the evening and I tried another beer from Perth brewery, this time a stout.

Tuesday was our day in Perth for visits to the town hall, visitors centre, waste recycling and of course the brewery. In the first of these, a framed copy of a letter hung in the entrance hall on the occasion of the 170th anniversary of the founding of the town. The letter had been signed by cousin Bob during his term as Premier of Ontario in 1990. The last of these visits took the most time. The person who welcomed us to the brewery spoke with a north London accent and, when established as a Spurs supporter, Michael and I were treated to a private tour of the brewery. We then tried samples of four beers each. I had a Honey Lager at 4.5%, Calypso IPA at 4.8%, Budbuster IPA at 6.2% and an Oyster Stout. We joined the ladies at Maximillian’s Restaurant for lunch, then had a quick walk around the riverside parkland before taking in a supermarket and liquor store. A late siesta was need on getting back to the cottage before an evening meal and the opening of some of our Perth Brewery beers. Hopside IPA proved my favourite but I also enjoyed Lug-Tread from Beau’s Brewery.

A visit to Jones Falls proved a great success on Wednesday. A short walk from the car park brought us out into a lovely open area of lake and locks as a staircase of three locks led boats down from the Big Lake. Whilst watching some small craft pass through the system of locks, we were led to expect the approach of a bigger cruiser. A half hour wait proved fruitful as a goodly sized boat appeared in the top lock and we followed, mesmerised, its passage through the middle lock. On the drive home, we called in at the Recess café just outside Portland for a sizeable sandwich and coffee. Another quiet afternoon beckoned before the pizza oven was fired up.

Michael had some work commitments to fulfil on Thursday morning so we had a restful few hours of conversation and reading. By lunchtime we were in a supermarket in Elgin, buying meat and supplies for the evening meal. It was too late for the Recess café, so we drove right up to the marina in Portland and popped into the Portside restaurant for a very late lunch. I had a gorgeous snack of battered brie and fig jam accompanied by a pint of Bubble Stash IPA from the Hop Valley Brewery. This was my number one ale of the entire trip. The afternoon was spent getting involved with the tennis from Montreal, the final between the young Canadian Vicky Mboko and the Japanese American, Osaka. The pause button was pressed to enjoy an evening meal of salmon, eaten with a drink of Hopside IPA, before watching the conclusion in which Mboko became the first home winner in six years.

Visitors dropped in for breakfast on the Friday morning. Jennifer and Shirley, Bob and Arlene sailed over for a much-needed family chat. It was too late and too hot to hit the mainland so we spend the day reading and resting. The wood oven was called into use yet again to grill some beautiful meat for dinner. The supply of Hopside IPA was brought into the endangered species category.

 

Saturday/Sunday 9th/10th August 2025    The Coda

We packed our bags early on Saturday morning. Michael and Ginny were returning to Toronto and attending a family birthday this weekend. We could have returned with them and spend our last two days in the provincial capital but we chose to take up John and  Phyllis’ kind invitation of another night with them and a meal with the Rae clan. So once more we were carried across the water where we said our goodbyes to Michael and Ginny. They had given us a wonderful week. A quiet afternoon ended with the arrival of the deputation of Bob and Arlene, Jennifer and Shirley. Phyllis and John cooked a fabulous meal and we had much wine and chat . I had rescued two cans of Perth Beer from Michaels fridge so enjoyed my last Hopside IPA and a Mokka Stout. Early to bed.

I had arranged to walk with Phyllis at 9am on Sunday morning but the house remained silent until after 9.30am. Eventually we repeated our 2 mile round of woodland around the cottage and got bitten to pieces by flies and mosquitos. By lunchtime, John had organised a taxi to take us to Kingston to catch our pre-booked train to Toronto. He sailed us across to the nearest roadhead and drove us to Highway 15 to rendezvous with our driver. Early at the station, the train came in on time but was 45 mins late getting into Union Station. A short walk to Joey’s restaurant in King Steet provided us with an relaxing meal before we travelled on to the airport. I had wild cod in curry source washed down with a pint of Muskoka Detour IPA. The UP-line took us out to the airport and we quickly got through security and boarded the 11.50pm Air Transat flight to Manchester. Home early and quickly out to the taxi rank and a drive back to Macclesfield. The weather was just as good as Toronto but a full night’s sleep was hard to come by for a few days. It had been a short and interesting trip, much more enjoyable than I had expected, in many ways due to the wonderful week that Michael and Ginny had prepared for us.



Saturday, 21 June 2025

Algarve

2nd – 16th June 2025

 

Another Family Holiday

Following the success of our trip last year to Mallorca, we thought we would repeat the process at a different nearby venue. Never having been to the south of Portugal, a sojourn in the Algarve seemed a natural next step. A villa with a pool was booked near Lagoa, just south of the historic town of Silves. Flights to Faro and car rentals were arranged and off we ventured, our daughter’s family flying Ryanair from Prestwick and Granny and Grandpa once more on EasyJet from Manchester. Because our daughter could not get time off work during the school holidays, she pulled the kids out of school before the end of term, not the best of arrangements but the only way we could get our annual family vacation.

 

The Travel

An early flight time necessitated a very early taxi ride, driven by a retired Gurkha soldier who, at 5.30am, drove the empty streets like a lunatic and delivered us to Terminal 1 in record time, just under 30 minutes. First through check-in and security, we had lots of time for a breakfast whilst waiting for our flight to be called. An incident-free flight got us into Faro on schedule and we were soon in the dreaded queue at passport control. The long-promised e-gates were in one corner of the hall but were not yet installed. The 45-minute wait was shorter than some scare stories that had been circulating. The process of picking up the car was just as long. We were going to have to get used to the Portuguese bureaucratic mindset.

Even after all these delays, we were on the motorway  half way to Lagoa well before our scheduled check-in time at the villa. But a few WhatsApp messages got us an early rendezvous time with David, the owner of the villa. He showed us around the lovely property and then left us with some recommendations for restaurants. After showers and a change of clothes, we chose Restaurant O Barradas on the way to Silves, situated in its own winery. It was a long wait then till midnight, for the arrival of Rachel and the kids.

 

The Villa

We quickly got into a routine for life in Villa Saudade. The serious swimmers in our group sometimes took advantage of the local 25 metre pool which opened to the public at 8am, The local supermarket opened at 8.30am. So, a daily shopping expedition left early each morning to exercise, collect fresh bread and croissants for breakfast and supplies for an evening meal. With super-chef Charlotte in the party, we had lots of ideas for exciting and delicious meals. Meanwhile I kept tabs on wine and beer stocks. Trips to neighbouring towns and the local beaches were confined to the cooler morning temperatures.

We were invariably home for a late lunch followed by siestas, swimming and poolside sunbathing through the heat of the afternoon. Having sporting events on television was a bonus for the sports fans in the party. The second week of Roland Garros and the whole of the Criterium de Dauphine were compulsive viewing in the air-conditioned lounge. Meanwhile the cooks were at work concocting the evening meal. We ate early, between 5 and 6pm most evenings. Then it was a bottle of wine or port to take us into the coolness of a cloudless sunset. the young ones were in bed by 8.30pm and the older ones were into Netflix and late-night viewing.

 

The Beaches


We were fortunate to have a string of beautiful beaches close to us in Lagoa. The first one we explored, Carvoeiro,  rapidly became our favourite and we returned time and time again throughout our two-week stay. The town and sandy cove provided easy access, available parking and lots of coffee shops and ice cream parlours. And it was only ten minutes’ drive from home. We must not of course forget the water park close by. Slide & Splash was such an enjoyable experience for the kids that a second visit was mandatory. Although, I must note, Granny could only take one trip.

One day we ventured farther afield, taking the road around the far side of Portimão down to the huge stretch of sand at Praia del Rocha. Here we found the cafes more of an attraction than the featureless strand. Another day we decided to explore the nearby beaches at Marinha and Benagil but this turned into a nightmare of narrow lanes, overflowing car parks and traffic jams. We were lucky to get out of the Benagil traffic system and it was only a brilliant and patient piece of driving that prevented us from still being there. Such was the trauma of the morning drive that we shot back to our safe haven of Carvoeiro.

 

The Towns


Our home town of Lagoa was a bit of a disappointment. Endless streets of single-story white terraced cottages with a miniscule shopping street and one good pastelaria (bakery and café shop). And most of these were closed on Sundays and holidays. By far the nicest of the nearby towns was Silves with its hill-top castle dominating the landscape. This was an ancient walled citadel with a large flat area of archaeological finds and spaced out with trees and water features consistent with its Moorish heritage. The rather nice café/bar was a regular port of call between the seaside expeditions.

Alan and Carolyn had been travelling in their mobile home around France and Spain for most of the spring and summer and included a stay with us in their schedule. In the blazing heat of their full day with us, we sought the relative coolness of a trip to the local hills. Monchique was our target for the drive and we spend a few ours exploring the hilly village and its ancient church. A lunch in the main square was a necessary appendage to our sight-seeing. It was wonderful to have our meal prepared for us that evening. Carolyn’s spicy wraps were a revelation.

 

The Walks



The natural place for hiking was the hilly area around Monchique but, as our daily activities drew us in the opposite direction towards the coast, no opportunities arose for a good walk. However, a coast path did exist, the Fisherman’s Trail, and a four-mile section of this was featured as one of the best hiking trails in the Algarve. The Seven Hanging Valleys Trail runs from Praia de Marinha to the resort of Centeanes in the outskirts of Carvoeiro. I recced the finish of the trail one morning whilst the kids were paddling in the sea and then came up with an idea of tackling the first half by leaving a car a mile inland and walking between the two beaches that we had failed to find on our abortive drive earlier in the week. This worked out well. I was joined by Rachel and Eleanor for retracing of our unsuccessful attempts at parking, with a long walk into Marinha and a 1½ mile stroll along the cliff tops and ravines to Benagil. Here we found a rather

busy and expensive café that fortified us for the inland excursion back to the car. We saw nothing to match our favourite beach no matter what is written in the guidebooks.



General Comments

A most enjoyable family holiday giving us our annual opportunity of having quality time with our grandchildren. The villa was a great success giving us excellent accommodation and a totally private pool and garden. It was a good mile or so out of the local town but the supermarket, swimming pool and waterpark were very handy. The neatest beach turned out to be ideal with the backdrop of a busy and lively village complete with shops and cafes.

The only criticism we could make was the queuing at Faro airport for passport control. I think it is part of the Portuguese mindset, the endless bureaucracy of forms and paperwork. It was the same at the car hire centre. Nothing happens fast in Portugal and you must get used to queuing. The flights with Easy Jet went well once you could get into the airport.

The Algarve itself was not exciting. Unless you are going on a beach or golf holiday, there is little else we could do. The local towns were not too thrilling except for the citadel at Silves and it was far too hot for a fair skinned Anglo-Saxon to go walking. Maybe we should have gone earlier or later in the year but that would have cause issues with Rachel’s holiday schedules and school terms.

How nice it was to drop through the clouds at Manchester Airport and return to England’s green and pleasant land.

 

Tuesday, 7 January 2025

Australia

15th November – 9th December 2024


Introduction

We have travelled all over the world studiously, and except for a brief touchdown on our way to New Zealand, managing to avoid Australia. The pressure has been building. An old work colleague of Jill’s, now living with his wife near Canberra, has nagged us for years to come over. Our daughter has friends in Perth and an ex-work colleague of mine has a daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren living near Melbourne. Finally, we relented and called in Anita, our travel counsellor, to put together a schedule together. We iterated towards a plan than included Perth, Melbourne and Sydney with diversions to see Ayers Rock and the Great Barrier Reef. We had no problems in choosing our flights: with us it is Emirates and the A380 airbus every time.

On the morning of Friday 15th November, we stood at the end of our drive waiting for our taxi to Manchester Airport. The 13.10 fight to Dubai was in the air for 7 hours, arriving a few minutes late. We had time for a drink and snack before boarding the 10-hour flight to Perth. Again, we were slightly late arriving and it was 7pm local time when we checked in to the COMO Treasury Hotel, next to the cathedral in the city centre. A room upgrade was a nice start to our trip. Two wedding receptions were underway and the local bar was heaving so we retreated to the Wine Merchants in the hotel complex and had a snacky meal and glasses of wine. We did not need much help in getting to sleep.  

 

 Perth and Margaret River   17th – 21st November 2024

However jet lagged we were, we had to cope with a prompt start to Sunday morning. Breakfast was taken at 8am so that we were ready for a 9am pick-up from our city guide, Arnold, a lovely man from South Africa. Kings Park was our first stop, a botanic garden situated on a raised bluff overlooking the city and the Swan River. As well as the war memorials and beautiful parkland, this gave us a feel for the layout of the city and its environs. I expressed an interest in visiting the WACA, the famous cricket ground. Arnold told us of the new stadium built out of town, the Optus Stadium and he drove us over the river and round to the new sports complex. Returning to the city, we stopped for a coffee opposite the Old Mint, now a museum of coins and jewellery. Luckily Jill was not on the lookout for extending her collection of precious stones. In the afternoon, Jill and I walked down to Elizabeth Quay and took the ferry over to South Perth, from which a fabulous view of the city is obtained. It was much quieter in the Beer Corner on our return so we dropped in for a meal and some delightful local brews of craft ale.

The next morning the hotel provided a courtesy car to take us along to the Avis car hire depot. Soon we were driving south along a busy freeway in a Toyota Corolla Hybrid. It was my first experience of an automatic car but all went well through the roadworks around Bunbury and, by lunchtime we had found a great coffee shop in Busselton, the Fire Station Café. It was not much farther to Yallingup and our accommodation for the next two nights, Cape Lodge, a hotel complex in its own estate of woodland and vineyards. Our room was in a building separated from the main complex and next to the swimming pool and lake. We were in time for afternoon tea and a much-needed siesta. I tried the toothfish for the evening meal, a new experience for me, And again the local beer was most acceptable. The next day we drove into Margaret River and had a look round this quiet little town. I wanted to get a glimpse of the ocean so we descended to the beach at Gracetown. There was nothing there except sand dunes and flies so we return to the hinterland and had a lunch in the Cheeky Monkey brewery. A wine tasting had been organised back at Cape Lodge so we got the opportunity to taste the four wines that are produced by the Lodge Estate and are for their clients only.

It was time to return to Perth but, on the way, we diverted to the lighthouse at Cape Naturaliste. Once again the flies drove us back to the car and an early lunch in Dunsborough ready for our return north up what was now a very busy road. Navigating our way off the freeway and round to the Treasury Hotel, we unloaded our bags and dropped the car back at the Avis Office. We were due to meet Joe, a friend of our daughter’s, who with his wife Jen and son Oscar had emigrated to Perth some 8 years ago. Joe worked in central town so picked us up at the hotel, drove us to their home in North Beach, and we all walked down with their Australian-born son, Calvin, to the beach and an busy little pizza restaurant and brewery. I had a great time tasting all the beers and pizzas made a substantial meal. Much chat was had by all until it was time to call a taxi and get back to our hotel. Joe kindly summoned an Uber and we had an interesting drive back to town with a driver who could not cope with road closures and had no sense of direction.

 

Melbourne and Apollo Bay   21st – 26th November 2024

We flew to Melbourne with Virgin Australia in a Boeing 737, a real comedown after our long-haul flights. This was more like a Ryanair trip where you buy a sandwich before you board because you get precious little on the journey. But it got us to Melbourne on time so what the heck! Our taxi was awaiting as we emerged from baggage reclaim and the driver skilfully negotiated the roads around the city centre and into the residential suburb of South Yarra. The Lyall Hotel was situated in a leafy street of grand old houses within yards of Toorak Street and the local shops. It was a haven of peace in this frenetic city and we greatly enjoyed our two nights with its quiet room and courteous staff. We ventured round the corner for a bar meal and had an early night. Next morning we took a prompt breakfast, I loved the pancakes, so we were ready for a private tour of Melbourne. A lady guide picked us exactly at the pre-arranged time and drove us to Parliament Square on the edge of the city. We walked from here, firstly along Collins Street looking for signs of Jill’s great-grandfather’s department store, Georges, founded in the late 19th century. Failing to spot any surviving building, we then weaved through the city centre and its shopping malls and narrow passages filled with graffiti and eventually arrived down by the river and railway station. A short tram ride to recover the vehicle and a drive round to docklands put us in position for a boat ride along the river back through the city and almost up to the MCG. The rush hour traffic back to the hotel was a pain and we had no time for a relaxing siesta. We had a train to catch.

Rachael Gibson, daughter of our great friends Gillian and Walter, lives with her husband James and their two children out on the Mornington Peninsula. And the train that serviced this residential area went through South Yarra Station, no more than 400 yards from the hotel. Rachael and her son Josh were waiting at Frankston, the end to the line and took us back to their fabulous home situated overlooking a verdant garden that sloped down to a shallow valley. A memorable evening followed with a barbecue and much chat including a tour of the estate with Josh as our enthusiastic guide. Then we found that the trains were no longer running so Rachael kindly ran us to Sandringham Station, a significant way into Melbourne. It was 10.30pm before we were back in South Yarra so no early night for us, Next morning we breakfasted promptly and walked round to the local Avis Office which was not easy to locate. Returning to the hotel for our bags we ventured out into the Melbourne traffic with Jill navigating us safely onto the Westgate Freeway and south towards the Great Ocean Road. The city traffic was behind us and we were on our way to Apollo Bay. The Captain at the Bay Hotel was more like a motel or Airbnb. A central reception led into a complex of apartments and ours was on the upper deck with views of the surrounding hills. We quickly explored this one-street town and found lots of tacky cafes and bars before eventually unearthing a brewhouse of craft beers and a gorgeous restaurant. Smartening up, I had time a lovely beer before meeting Jill at the Graze for a very classy meal, pork chop & mash and gingerbread sponge, all enhanced by a Pinot Noir from the Mornington Peninsular. 

The next morning, the mist was down to sea level and it would have been pointless driving over to the Twelve Apostles. We would not have seen these off-shore sea stacks. Instead, we headed inland into the Otway National Park along narrow forest roads that made for an exciting driving experience. From the visitors’ centre, we took the Otway Fly, a treetop route through temperate rain forest. It was a remarkable construction of interlinking walkways and towers giving a wonderful introduction to the forest. For the more adventurous, there was a zipwire but not for us. Returning to Apollo Bay, we were more than ready for more craft ale and another top-class meal at an Italian restaurant, Cassalingo. Our last day in Victoria began with the drive back into Melbourne and the Westgate Freeway, then some precise navigation through the horrendous traffic to locate the Royce Hotel. We found a drop-off point for our luggage more by good luck than judgement and off-loaded our bags. We then returned our car to the South Yarra Avis depot and walked back down Toorak Street for a peaceful afternoon and evening at the Royce. The beers were more than acceptable and we enjoyed meals of octopus and John Dory fish. I was most relieved that we had changed our car return point from the prearranged city centre depot back to South Yarra. The agent that had originally tasked two strangers in a hire car with driving into a city that we knew nothing about must have had a strange sense of humour. And why we could not have been accommodated again in the Lyall Hotel remains a mystery.

 

Ayers Rock   26th – 29th November 2024


The taxi was early so we were having coffee in the airport with lots of time to buy our sandwiches for another foodless flight with Virgin Australia. Clocks were duly put back by 1½ hrs and we were on our way to the Red Centre, Ayres Rock airport adjacent to Uluru. Our arrival seemed to shock the baggage staff at this quiet little terminal building. Our guide, Trent, was there and raring to go but out bags took 45 minutes to emerge. The drive to the resort of Yulara took less than 10 minutes where, rather later than expected, we checked into the Sails in the Desert Hotel. We had less than an hour to gather ourselves for the evening drive into the national park. Trent took us first to the visitors’ centre and then to the base of the rock, Uluru. In a series of short walks we visited various ground level features, mainly pools and watering holes. A storm was approaching and, as we set off on our second walk the rain came down in Australian buckets. Waterfalls tumbled over the lowered cliffs and eventually the whole rock face was awash. We retreated, soaked through to our underwear, to a more distant viewpoint to watch the effect of sunset on the colouration of the desert landscape, and to drink a glass of bubbly. Very late and wet back to the hotel, we squeezed onto the very last table in the restaurant and had a very ordinary meal.

The alarm went off at 4.30am. At 4.45am, Trent was waiting to drive us over to the Kata Tjuta (Olga) mountain range where we stood on the top of a dune with a large group of tourists to view sunrise. A picnic breakfast of muesli, toast and tea was very welcome. A further drive took us to the foot of the Walpa Gorge from whence a stony footpath led into a cold wind up into the gorge between walls of sandstone and mudstone at least 2000ft high. Back at our hotel, we were just in time for a late breakfast followed be a well-earned rest. In the heat of the afternoon, we explored the rest of the resort of Yulara, its two other hotels and the town square. We were impressed by the feel of the restaurant in the Desert Gardens Hotel but, as the temperature soared, we retreat back to our Sails in the Desert restaurant for a beer and a sandwich. We dined in the evening in the Mangata Bistro, the restaurant that had caught our eye in the Desert Gardens complex. I had a lovely barramundi fish with a side of garlic bread. With no room for a pudding, we were committed to returning tomorrow evening.

Another mind-blowingly early alarm saw us ready for a 5.05am pick up by a girl called Zoe who was to take us to the airport and fly us in her helicopter over Uluru at sunrise. We were the only people in the air at this ungodly time so we had the rock to ourselves as we circled around watching the morning colours emerge from the darkness. Turning towards the Olga mountains, we could look down on yesterday’s walk and other valleys and gorges that had been out of view. A long diversion north took us over the salt pans of Lake Amadeus which, after the recent rains, was much fuller than usual. Camel tracks could be seen but we did not find any of these beasts. The return was directly into the airport and ten minutes later I was helping myself to pancakes and maple syrup in the hotel breakfast room. The rest of the morning was allocated to reading and writing. A sandwich from the supermarket sufficed for lunch before, after a brief siesta, I risked facing the heat of the afternoon in walking across to the Outback Lodge with its bar and selection of craft beers. We then prepared ourselves for our scheduled pick-up for the light show, but when we arrived, we were told that a coach had departed earlier. We had had no indication of a change in the schedule and no one seemed to care that much at the hotel. One of the reception staff offered to take us over in a courtesy car but, by this time, the evening plans were in tatters so we walked over to the Mangata Bistro and had a lighter meal of burgers and chips so that I could find room for the rum sponge pudding.

 

Cairns and Port Douglas   29th November – 3rd December 2024

Our old friend Trent took us back to the airport for the morning flight to Cairns. The Quantas Embraer aircraft was much more comfortable than the Boeings and we were politely early into Queensland. A quick and efficient car hire at the airport and we were soon on our way north towards Port Douglas. We were heading for Thala Beach Nature Reserve which is situated on a forested headland just shy of the town. The Reception complex is on the crest of the hill and the cabins spread downhill towards the beach. We had been allocated one near the beach but the furthest away from the restaurant. A golf buggy service is provided for the less fit visitor. But this intrepid pair mounted the cliffside steps and enjoyed pork belly and a bottle of Mornington Peninsular Pinot Noir whilst awed be the magnificent view up the coast. In the morning, we had a leisurely breakfast whilst watching a family of Rainbow Lorikeets at the bird feeder. Exploring Port Douglas, we walked around to the marina and then into the main street for a coffee and cake. Buying a sandwich and beer, we then retreated back to Thala for a siesta. It started to rain as we sat down at the beach so we returned to Port Douglas and had a splendid meal, barramundi coconut curry, in the Zinc Restaurant as the rain continued to fall.

We had booked an early buggy for a very early breakfast so we were ready for a coach pickup to take us down to the marina. We had reservations on the catamaran Sailaway VII, scheduled to leave at 8am for the Great Barrier Reef. It was a lovely sunny day and the sea was smooth and calm. We had certainly got the weather right today. It was a 2½ hour sail out to the reef and this time was spent with preparing us for the snorkelling. Of the 24 passengers on board, I was the only one to decline the offer of a swim. It was a very young clientele. This did not deter Jill who was determined to give it a go. One of the crew was a trained marine biologist and she gave us a presentation as to what was likely to be seen during the time in the water. Jill was delighted with the accuracy and comprehensiveness of this introduction. But first she must don her sting suit and flippers and get into the water. We had moored to a buoy next to the far reef some 25 miles off-shore. I was impressed by the professionalism of the operation. Jill was allowed to take her time and not be rushed or mithered whilst enjoying her snorkel. I had a quiet hour to myself under shade on the rear deck. It was most peaceful. Eventually the swimmers returned and it was time for a bite to eat all served calmly by the excellent crew. A boat ride to a local sandbank was a moment of excitement before some brave souls retook to the water for a guided swim over the reef. Then it was a 2½ hr sail back to Port Douglas and the end to a magnificent day.

After a good night’s sleep and a late breakfast where I discovered the pleasures of brioche, bacon and syrup, we drove north once more through Mossman and into the visitors’ centre of the Daintree National Park. A bus took us up to the foot of the Mossman Gorge. The 2½ mile round, via a metal walkway and over a suspension bridge, then round a steep, narrow path and tree roots, took us near 1hr 45 mins. The stifling heat in the rain forest was difficult to manage and Jill broke out into a muck sweat. We were thus more than ready for a coffee shop by the time we got back to the visitors’ centre. Their café did not look very appealing so we hopped into the car and drove back into Mossman town centre and had a light lunch in the bakery café. A cooling shower back at our beach-side cabin was so welcome and we felt human enough to return in the evening back to Port Douglas marina and the local micro-brewery, Hemmingway’s. I revelled in a paddle of five of their ales before downing another pint of my favourite whilst demolishing a plate of fish and chips. Meanwhile a black cloud descended, thunder and lightning crashed about the nearby hills and the heavens opened. The drive back to our accommodation was through a deluge, with roads fast approaching flood conditions.

 

Sydney  3rd - 8th December 2024

All was quiet in the morning although our local bit of jungle dripped with the overnight storm water. Saying our goodbyes to all at Thala Beach, we had an easy drive back to Cairns airport and the car drop-off was once again very smooth. The Quantas flight to Sydney, a Boeing 737-800 got away on time and was early into Sydney. The lady guide ushered us into the pick-up vehicle and we were threading our way through the afternoon traffic to our hotel, the Capella on Loftus Street. It was a pretty amazing hotel, our room having a double bathroom and complex lighting and curtain system all controlled from the bedside.  Before she left, the guide recommended a fish restaurant in the Rocks, the oldest part of town. So as soon as we were rested and changed, we set off in search of a good meal. Passing Circular Quay and the ferry terminals, we proceeded past the Museum of Contemporary Art, into Argyle Street and its pubs and bars and then into to a quiet suburb of grand old properties. We were just losing hope of finding the restaurant when we came to the Lord Nelson pub which was packed out. A few doors along Kent Street, we finally arrived at the Fish at the Rocks which luckily could squeeze us in on a table for two. The meal was magnificent, a barramundi in a mild curry sauce and a pint of Lord Nelson IPA. 

The next morning was a shopping expedition. Jill’s watch had given up the ghost the previous day and we suspected a new battery to be required. The hotel concierge recommended a shop in the Queen Victoria Building, a huge multi-floor shopping mall. We tracked down a small stall that offered to investigate and we left the watch with them for half an hour. A book shop beckoned, Dymocks was superbly stocked and had a lovely little café dotted around the upper gallery. Jill saw an opportunity for some Christmas shopping so I went walkabout. The Catholic cathedral, St Mary’s, was a delightful haven of peace and I collected my obligatory bookmark. The National Art Gallery was next on-route before I returned to the hotel over the bare fields of the Domain. We were excited with the prospect of meeting up with Julie and Glen, friends from 16 years ago before they emigrated to a new home near Canberra. They were coming down to Sydney to spend three days with us and act as guides to this fascinating city. At 4pm they arrived at our hotel and led us down the ferry port and over Sydney Harbour to the suburb of Kirribilli. Walking along the street leading to the prime minister’s and governor general’s Sydney houses, we got a wonderful view back over the harbour to the opera house. Then we found a table outside a restaurant and had a dish of fish & chips & mushy peas with a pale ale called 150 lashes. The return ferry, with all the city lit up around us and the Queen Elizabeth Cunard liner moored beneath the bridge, was a memorable experience.

The next morning the four of us regathered at our hotel and we walked down to the Opera House and round to Farm Bay. We broke our uphill ascent through the botanic gardens at a café and then continued up to the National Gallery where Julie and Jill disappeared into an art expedition and Glen and I sought out the Sydney Tower and 30 minutes gazing at the incredible panorama. After another visit to Dymocks for books and coffee, we adjourned for a rest before taking the fast ferry to Watson’s Bay and a fabulous fish restaurant, Doyles. I had snapper and Thai salad with a local lager brewed especially for the restaurant. The only way home was by bus. This terminated at a distant point in the Rocks district and we were another 15 minutes navigating dark deserted streets back into the city centre.

Another day, another ferry, this time to Darling Bay. On a beautiful morning, we took a ferry passed another cruise liner and under the harbour bridge. The old docklands and warehouses had been regenerated into a modern waterfront with restaurants and cafes too busy to serve us. After a walk around the splendid gardens overlooking the harbour, we decided to walk back into the city and the shopping streets. Once more the group disappeared into Dymocks for more Christmas nick-nacks and I took the opportunity of visiting the Anglican Cathedral, far quieter and less pretentious that its Catholic cousin. The party then split yet again, Jill wanting the Sydney Tower experience whilst I was keen to visit the observatory. Julie, Glen and I trekked once more into the Rocks and up through the gardens on the hill top at Millers Point. Being promised a guided tour in 45 minutes we retired briefly to the National Trust café and had a pleasant, if rather weirdly served, coffee and cake. The tour of the telescopes and observatory dome was fascinating and we even got the chance to open the roof ourselves. Then we returned via the back streets in Circular Quay and our hotels, We had our last supper together to organise. The Fish at the Rocks was fully booked so we reserved a table in the Capella and ate in familiar surroundings. An excellent meal except for the news that they only had one can left of craft beer. So onto the wine!

 

A low cloud hung over the city for our last day together. Manly was our ferry destination for the morning, one of the longest crossings to the mouth of the harbour, By the time we had disembarked and walked across town to the Pacific coast beach, a drizzle had set in. A coffee did not trigger an improvement in the weather and we had little choice but to reverse our journey and come back to the city. As the rain was set for the day, we went looking for a suitable venue for lunch. The Sofitel Hotel where Julie and Glen were staying seemed very amenable so had a light lunch, said our goodbyes and went our various ways, Julie and Glen back to Canberra and work, Jill and I back for a siesta. In late afternoon, we set off once more into the Rocks which was by now heaving with Saturday night drinkers. The noise and heat in the pubs were intolerable, the Fish at the Rocks was fully booked again and we were beginning to feel rather dispirited when we happened upon the Captain Cook pub in Kent Street. The beer was fabulous and when we found that they provided pub grub, life took a turn for the better. Our previous expeditions through the more remote areas of the old town stood us in good stead and we soon found our way home to start packing our bags.

 

 The Last Day and the Journey Home   8th – 9th November 2024

It was our last day of this wonderful trip and we had a private tour of the Opera House booked for just before 10am. We walked down to the harbour front on a bright sunny morning before the heat of the day kicked in. A quiet and polite guide met us in the Opera House entrance and gave us a comprehensive tour of both halls, concert & opera, and the adjoining viewing galleries around the building. Suitably exhilarated by this unique building, we then returned to the hotel and checked out, leaving our bags in a safe store. A pleasant harbourside restaurant provided us with a light lunch and then we took a ferry out to Manly hoping to see it in better weather. But right on cue the clouds and drizzle returned and, after a brief café stop, we returned into Sydney and established ourselves in the guests’ lounge until it was time to reclaim our bags and locate our pick up for the airport.

The international terminal was a hive of activity but our bags were soon checked in and another café received our patronage before boarding the 21.15 Emirates flight to Dubai, a 14-hour marathon into the prevailing wind. Another transit of Dubai and another coffee before queuing to board the Manchester flight. This was only 7 hours duration and had the added feel of going home, An early landing on Monday morning was negated by a long wait for our baggage and our taxi got us home by soon after midday. Jill disappeared down to Sainsbury for much needed supplies and I put the first of many washes into our washing machine. Feeling a little tired, I thought I would lie down for few minutes. I awoke in the middle of the night still fully clothed, donned my pyjamas and slept in total 15 hours through till Tuesday morning. I think I had been a little tired!







Thursday, 25 July 2024

Mallorca

25th June – 9th July 2024

 

Plans for a Family Holiday

It is a long time since we have had a holiday with our daughter’s family. Before the pandemic, we tried to get away for at least a week each year to various holiday homes. When the grandchildren were very young, we rented cottages as far afield as Devon and Shropshire. Rachel has returned to work after a long break and vacations in school holidays have become more problematic. But a window of opportunity opened up for the start of the Scottish school holidays and, in a moment of enlightenment, we booked a villa for two weeks in the north of Mallorca. A Ryanair flight from Prestwick, just up the road, was booked for the Scottish branch of the family. Granny and Grandpa would need to find a flight from Manchester and EasyJet fitted the bill. All we needed was transport from Palma to Pollenca, a wallet full of Euros and we were off.

 

Tuesday 25th June 2024,   Arrival

We had a booked an early taxi to Manchester Airport, fearful of what we might find in Terminal 1. Two days previously, a complete loss of power had shut down this terminal and all flights in and out. However, our prompt arrival saw us sail through the baggage drop and security and enjoy a leisurely breakfast prior to boarding. Away on time, we landed in Palma 10 mins early and were out through passport control well before our Mallorcan taxi arrived. Miguel negotiated the heavy traffic around the airport, using bus lanes and local knowledge to get us onto the motorway north. Finding the villa was a problem even for a local driver but, by following Maria’s instructions and photographs and by asking neighbours, we finally arrived at Villa Maria to rendezvous with another Miguel, this one Maria’s father.

Miguel took us into Port de Pollenca to get a late lunch at a lovely restaurant in the yacht marine, La Llonja. An hour later, he dropped us at a supermarket where we grabbed bread and cheese and a bottle of wine for our supper. A game of football from Euro 2024 passed the time before the Borlands were due to arrive in our rented cars. If finding our villa in daylight was difficult, getting close in darkness proved impossible. I walked down the drive to find them by which time Rachel had rung Maria who turned out to guide them home. Finally, and very late in the day, the family holiday could begin.

 

Wednesday/Thursday 26/27th June 2024,  Exploring Port de Pollensa



The trip to the supermarket became a daily chore (or blessing if you include the coffee shop next door). At 9am each morning we were waiting for the doors to open to buy our breakfast, fresh croissants and bread. Later in the morning we returned to town with the children to  explored the market, the beach and the ice cream shops before retreating back to the villa for lunch and siestas during the heat of the day. It was the heat of the evening football that bothered me with England played a 0-0 draw to win the group at Euro 2024. The following day was in the same pattern with a different café and some serious sea swimming for the young ones. It was about time that the adults took some exercise so, with no football on TV for a few days, Rachel and I had a late excursion up the local path to the Col de Siller and beyond. It was almost dark as we returned down the rocky hillside to find the family watching a film on Netflix.

 

Sanctuari de Lluc, Friday 28th June 2024

It was time to start exploring the island, or at least our part of the island. It was the first time I had driven the rented jeep, not the best choice of routes to launch my Mallorcan driving career. The road beyond Pollenca climbed rapidly into the mountains via a series of hairpin bends. Cyclists were everywhere, from slow moving climbers to flying descenders, all adding to the need to concentrate. Eventually we reached our highpoint and dropped quickly into a fertile treelined valley surrounded by rocky hills. The Sanctuari de Lluc had a large car park and we were soon walking up an avenue of trees and into the monastery. We started with the basilica, the target for pilgrims walking through the Tramuntana Mountains. This was a dark and highly decorated church containing a famous statue to the Blessed Virgin. The lady chapel provided a few precious moments of calmness and contemplation. We all lit candles and then retreated to the café for ice creams and cake.

 

Pollentia Roman Ruins and Market Day in Pollenca, Saturday/Sunday 29/30th June 2024

The archaeological dig just outside the walls of Alcudia has revealed to remains of a large Roman town, probably more military than settlement. The site was unearthed when a modern railway line was being planned. It was never built but the Roman site had been unearthed. Johnny and I spent some time absorbing the atmosphere and reading all the interpretive boards before crossing into the modern city and looking round the small museum that contained some of the findings. The family were waiting outside a café in the market square and, after a quick coffee we returned home for an afternoon by the pool. The evening was spent watching a couple of football matches.

The next day was market day in Pollenca. Parking one car was a nightmare, never mind two. Street after street was lined with stalls selling everything from food to children’s nick-nacks. I gave each of the kids their spends and off they went into the throng. Such was the difficulty of making a purchasing decision that I had plenty of time to find a coffee and cake. All my stress came later in the day when watching England come through against Slovakia with the help of a last-minute miracle goal from Bellingham.

 

Rain and the Lighthouse, Monday 1st July 2024


Rail was the forecast for the day and it was certainly a lot cloudier and cooler. We decided to visit the lighthouse at Cap de Formentor by bus, taking notice of the warnings about travelling by car. The 11.30am bus from Port de Pollenca wound its way up and down the narrow hairpins that took the road from side to side along the barren peninsular. Passing the half-way car park, it was buses and bikes only. Even this section took great care as buses travelling up had to pass the returning buses at a very narrow tunnel exit. A lighthouse is a lighthouse and the café was packed so, after half an hour of standing on the northern-most tip of Mallorca, we jumped onto the next bus and arrived back at Port De Pollenca in a downpour. The bus station was awash with flowing surface water and one of the passengers made a paper boat that floated off

down the road. Rachel rescued the car, we sheltered and then ran, and we got home very wet but in time for a late lunch. In the evening, Rachel drove Jill and me back to town for a meal in Amazo, a highly-rated restaurant owned by a South American chef. I had sea bass on a bed of mashed potatoes followed by crème brulee. The wine was Joequin Rebolledo, Mencia 2023 from Valdeorras, Galicia.

 

Another Market and More Sea Bathing, Tuesday/Wednesday 2nd/3rd July 2024

Tuesday was market day in Alcudia so we had another episode in parking a car in the centre of chaos. The stalls were not particularly exciting although Eleanor found a nice skirt. As there was little opportunity for a quiet coffee, we were soon home in time for lunch and siestas. After an early evening meal, we made up for lost opportunities by popping in Port de Pollenca and sitting having coffee whilst the kids played on the beach. Then it was home to more football and the save of the tournament.

The next day was a quiet one near the villa. After the mandatory morning on the promenade drinking coffee and eating ice cream whilst the kids swam in the sea, we returned for an afternoon by the pool and watching Cavendish take his record-taking win at the Tour de France.

 

The Big Walk, Thursday 4th July 2024

Today was the big walk. An early start was necessary; we were not going to do anything stupid by walking through the midday heat. Three of the grandchildren volunteered to join me and two adults agreed to pick us up at the finish. In the relative cool of mid-morning, Charlotte led the way up the steep rocky path to the Col de Siller and Peter and Eleanor follow her up to the top and waited for Grandpa to pull up over the edge. Across the sun-scorched plateau, we had a bit of a spat about who would carry the water bottle. The guide book indicated a descent path to the left but we could not find it. After arriving at the top of a cliff, we retreated down a tarmac road that took us right and then back under the cliff and into the village of Cala Sant Vincent. This was in a steep sided valley with new hotels and holiday apartments but with a paucity of cafes or shops. When we met the pick-up crew, all we wanted to do was get out of there and drive home. Such was our disappointment in missing our elevenses that, after lunch, Jill and Eleanor joined me in slipping down to Port de Pollenca for coffee and cake. And whilst we were there, we booked a restaurant for another meal out. At 7.30pm, Charlotte & Rachel, Jill & me were in the El Polito, a Mallorcan-style restaurant down a quiet side street. I had a main course of duck and a dessert of almond cake and looked with envy on those that had ordered the John Dory. A beer and bottle of wine dulled the anguish.

 

Soller and Port de Soller  Friday 5th July 2024

Awoke to a new government back home. No landslides in Mallorca so, leaving the boys back at the villa, we set out on the long drive through the mountains to Soller. Rachel had arranged to meet an old friend and we were going along for the ride. Thank goodness Rachel was driving. The 90-minute drive weaved and climbed along the length of the Tramuntana range, passing through tunnels and round hairpin bends all the way until the Soller Valley opened up below. Car parking was again a nightmare but we eventually found someone backing out of a space and Rachel skilfully backed in. After passing the road works at the entrance to the town centre, we found the place packed out with tourists. A back street café/bar came to our rescue and we sat in a hidden and shady courtyard to have our elevenses. This was not the place for a relaxing rendezvous with an old friend so we extracted the car and drove to the port where parking was easier and the promenade was lined with shaded cafes with settees facing the harbour. The girls swam off the beach and Rachel and Penny caught up with their news. Jill and I sat comfortably watching the trams run up and down the prom whilst we enjoyed a light lunch. A good choice of a route home was through the long tunnel towards Palma then across country to pick up the motorway north past Inca. It was a much less stressful journey. Home for dinner and the first quarter-final of the football.

 

Ending our Holiday Nearer Home,  Sat/Sun/Monday 6/7/8th July 2024

The north end of Port de Pollenca promenade had not been explored so we parked up near the start of the Pine Walk and drank coffee whilst the kids collected shells from the beach and stuffed themselves with ice cream. Needing some exercise, I walked the length of the Pine Walk up to the military base and then returned on an inland route passing a restaurant with a swimming pool and a small modern supermarket. The calm of the day was spoilt by the excruciating experience of an England match resolved by extra time and penalties. No wonder I could not sleep.

A repeat performance on the following day, this time parking nearer the military installation, walking the Pine Walk from the far end and having coffee and ice cream as a halfway halt. I was able to combine the two pleasures with a magnificent serving of carrot cake. This end of the resort was not idea for sea swimming so we returned to the villa for a lunch, siestas, and pool before returning to the beach in the cool of the evening. This time of course, Granny and Grandpa were on beer and wine outside a waterfront café. The last full day of the holiday was more of the same, more coffee, carrot cake and beach play with last minute shopping to boot. Then back to the villa for packing suitcases and rucksacks. Bella Roma had been booked for our last supper and we all enjoyed meals of pizzas and pasta and then Robbie had a Nutella-filled pizza for dessert.

 

Homeward Bound, Tuesday 9th July 2024

The preordained departure time from the villa was 10am but we had asked for an extension  until 11am to allow us time for a last visit to the supermarket and a more leisurely breakfast. The cars were then packed with our dirty clothes and ill-gotten gains for the various markets. Off we drove, waving goodbye to Maria’s parents. Our flights were not until early evening so we had a day to explore as yes unvisited part of the island before heading to the airport.  We chose a route south through Alcudia and then on country roads down to the south east. Manacor looked a likely place for some sustenance and a break in the journey. We parked in an underground carpark and walked into the main square for coffee, cake and ice cream. It was getting hot now in the sheltered streets of the town; no sea breeze here. Unknowingly we had come to the birthplace and childhood home of Rafa Nadal, the Mallorcan tennis star. There was a museum to the great man but none of us was inclined to visit. It was time to move on to the airport and the air-conditioned terminal building.

We were too early to drop off our bag so we retired to a café and had a bite to eat. We returned to the check in at the time we had been told, only to find hundreds of people queuing to do the same. Eventually we got rid of the bag and were quickly through security and onto the plane. The journey home was not much longer than two hours and we landed so early at Manchester that we had to wait for a gate. Then all was plain-sailing and our bag was quickly retrieved from the carousal and our taxi home was booked. Thirty minutes later we were walking up our drive into a house that felt so dreadfully cold after the sub-tropical climate we had left behind. Jill shot down to the supermarket to get some food. I put the kettle on and turned on the TV ready for the second-half of the football. A grand two weeks had been had by one and all. 

Monday, 18 December 2023

Rwanda

20th November – 5th December 2023

 

Flight to Kigali

Why Rwanda, our friends asked. It started with a meeting with Anita, a travel counsellor. We love Africa and wanted something different from the normal safari. She made several recommendations and we chose the country with a thousand hills. It was certainly different! Four years ago, before the pandemic, we had used an airport hotel before the early morning KLM flight to Amsterdam. This time we had a taxi from home at 2.30am so that we arrived as we had been advised three hours before the flight. The problem was that the staff at the airport had not had the same message and it was another hour before the check-in desks were fully operational. Our fast-tracking through security worked brilliantly and we were soon seated in the waiting area near the gate. All was on time, breakfast was at Schiphol, a bacon & egg panini, and we were soon on our way across Europe and the Mediterranean and heading for the African coast. We took a roundabout route avoiding, I assume, areas of conflict. Straight down the Red Sea, across Ethiopia and Kenya approaching Rwanda from the north east.


Arrangements had been made for a meet and greet service at Kigali Airport whereby we were fast-tracked through immigration and baggage collection. Our guide Eric drove us to a wonderful boutique hotel, the Retreat by Heaven and we had time for a meal in the Heaven Restaurant and my first taste of Virunga Gold beer, real ale brewed locally..

                                                                                

Volcanoes National Park 21st – 24th November 2023

Pancakes for breakfast. What a treat! Eric drove us north west to Musanze, his home town and then on to Amakoro Songa Lodge on the edge of the Volcanoes National Park. We were the only guests in this lodge set in beautiful gardens at the foot of the range of volcanoes that mark the northern border of Rwanda. After a late lunch and an afternoon rest, we were welcomed by a local dance group before having another meal and an early night in preparation for tomorrow’s gorilla trek.

A knock on the door at 5.45am was a rude awakening. A 6am breakfast was unappetising. Eric collected us at 6.45am and drove us up to the national park offices where we were briefed and allocated to a six-strong party scheduled for the shortest walk. Then into the vehicles again for a drive to the start of the trek passing on the way the Dian Fossey Museum. Porters were allocated to each trekker and we set off through fields of potatoes and pyrethrum. A looming dark cloud foretold a wet day ahead of us. We arrived at the edge of the bamboo forest as the rain arrived and we climbed up steep muddy and waterlogged paths through the dense vegetation. Porters were on hand to help us through the most difficult parts. The wooden staffs we had been given proved priceless for keeping our balance. Trackers had been on the mountain finding the whereabouts of a family of gorillas, so we had no trouble in getting to stand with them for a short while. Such was the strength of the rain however that we reached a consensus to foreshorten our stay and head back down. In many ways, this was worse than the ascent with porters either side of us helping us keep our feet. At the edge of the forest, we were lucky to see some Golden Monkeys before recrossing the agricultural land  back to the vehicles. I have seldom felt as wet and bedraggled as at this point. But salvation was at hand. Eric returned us to the lodge where we were relieved of our wet raingear and given foot massages. Our boots and waterproofs were cleaned whilst we were being revived by another of their splendid lunches. Siesta time and drinks in front of a petrol-fuelled fire preceded our evening meal and welcome bottle of red wine.

The rain was hammering down on our metal roof all night and we were unsure as to whether our pre-booked nature walk would happen. But during breakfast the rain stopped and the skies cleared and the local community environmental guide, Gratien, arrived on scheduled to take us on a short walk around the local village. The off-road paths were too muddy so we stuck to the roads but still saw a profusion of bird life and village children. In the afternoon Eric took us down to the market in Musanze and we spend a pleasant hour walking round the fruit and veg market, the like and extent of which we have seldom seen. The sun was out and the volcanoes appeared in all their glory. The Christmas Tree and decorations had been put up at the lodge, the bar stocked both Virunga Gold and Virunga Mist beer and it would have been churlish of me not to try them both. A last meal and night’s sleep and time to move on.

 

Lake Kivu  24th – 27th November 2023

Eric’s arrival next morning was delayed by a broken-down truck blocking the road. But we soon were saying our goodbyes to Patrick and his crew at Amakoro and travelling west towards Lake Kivu. In Gisenyi we drove right up to the Congo border bridge before turning south and stopping at a lovely coffee shop beside the lake, Migano Café. It started to rain and we had to move under cover. It then rained all the way down to Karongi where we turned towards the lake and our fabulously-situated hotel, Cleo Kivu. This had been built high on the side of the steep slopes above the lake. The view from our room was spectacular especially when it finally stopped raining and the sun shone out over the water. A whole Tilapia fish, grilled to perfection was washed down by more Virunga beer and it was time to relax.

Woke to a cloudy morning and a wedding anniversary, our 51st. Should we risk a boat trip on the lake? I waded into a full Rwandan breakfast and the sun was breaking through the clouds. We invited Eric to join us and, led by our boatman, we descended hundreds of steps that zigzagged down through the gardens of the hotel to the private jetty 500 ft below, our first port of call was Cow Island where a group of cow herds were driving their cattle into the water. The cows then swam across to another island where they would be milked.. We sailed on to Monkey Island where the alpha male vervet monkey came on board to claim a banana. Much mirth about the success of having sky blue genitalia. Peace Island was next, named after a now defunct restaurant and barbeque site. We went ashore and had a walk to see the nest of the resident Hamerkop, described to us as a lazy bird that only ate dead fish and followed the fishermen for easy pickings. The sail home was past Napoleon Island named from its shape, that of the French emperor’s hat. In bright sunshine we returned to our jetty and climbed up to the hotel for lunchtime drinks. Then the thunder clouds rolled in and it hammered down all afternoon, stopping only when we sat down to our anniversary meal.

The next day was a rest day spend reading and relaxing. We had a light lunch with Eric whilst planning our pending visit to Nyungwe National Park and our activities over the next few days.

 

 

Rusizi & Nyungwe National Park 27th – 30th November 2023

It was a three-hour drive to Rusizi and it rained for the entire journey. We arrived at the Mantis Hotel in time for lunch and we walked down to the lake in the afternoon, had a buffet meal and got an early night in preparation for the active two days ahead.

On the Tuesday we had been booked in for a very full day of trekking. The programme was for the canopy walk in the morning and the waterfall walk in the afternoon. But having read the details of these expeditions, the logistics of doing both on the same day were total unrealistic and would seriously damage our prospects of the chimpanzee trek the following day. So, at the offices of the Nyungwe National Park, we decided to abandon the plans for the day and instead take a birding trek with one of the specialist guides. This turned out to be a very pleasant morning of birdwatching with a guide who was equipped with birdsong recognition software and a microphone for attracting the songsters out of the deepest tree cover. Our three-hour walk took us into the forest and then onto neighbouring tea plantations both providing opportunities to add to our list of bird sightings. The morning finished with us all having coffee together and getting help to download the birding app onto my phone. We were back in the hotel in time for siestas and drinks by the swimming pool. So early were we for the evening meal that we hit ‘happy hour’, two bottles of wine for the price of one. Life can be very challenging.

Our alarms were set for 4.30am. As we passed through reception we picked up a breakfast pack consisting of a boiled egg and a croissant. Eric had made arrangements to meet our guide at the start of a rough track leading to the starting point of our chimpanzee trek. The guide had brought a young pair of Spaniards/Catalonians on their honeymoon. These were to be our walking companions. Porters were allocated, walking poles were distributed and off we all set into the tropical rain forest. The descent into tree was down a steep and muddy trod over tree roots and down slippery slopes. The porters held our hands and grabbed us when we lost our balance. After what seemed an age we reached the bottom of the steep sided valley and spend a leisurely two hours or so searching for chimps. Sightings were rare and distant. The rain of the previous night had left the primates short of body-heat and sunlight so they were all in the canopy of the huge trees and difficult to spot. One female descended onto the path ahead of us. My porter grabbed my phone/camera and set off in pursuit. This was the nearest we got. After a short rest on a bench, we started our climb back out of the forest. The narrow path up an almost vertical slope of roots and mud proved a daunting challenge. I followed the Spanish couple through the trees and found myself isolated from Jill. My inclination was to wait but our group only had two porters as helpers and navigators. They suggested that we push on and leave the remaining porters and guides with Jill. On reaching the forest trail at the top, there was no sign of the others and it was a full 20 minutes before Jill and her support team finally pulled themselves over the edge and into the light. She was near her limit and it was some time before she recovered her equanimity. The 800ft scramble would have tested any seasoned walker and was way outside the comfort zone of a casual holiday stroller. In the wet season, this was not for the faint hearted. More beer and relaxation were on the programme for the rest of the day and we still had that second bottle of wine to finish.

 

Kings Palace Museum & Kigali 30th November – 1st December 2023

The trekking was over, the sun was shining and we were heading for a warmer dryer part of the world. Legs were recovering, a lie-in was welcome and there was time for a proper breakfast before we set off on the long drive back to the capital. The first 90 minutes of the trip were a crossing of the entire Nyungwe National Park, a high-level route with fabulous views down into the rain forest below. The road was patrolled by border security guards as this was the nearest road to the unmanned Burundi border. At Butare, the main trunk road north from Burundi was joined and the volume of heavy traffic increased significantly. We had time for a coffee and carrot cake at Stafford Coffee, a lovely roadside café near Nyanza. Then we turned off the main road and into the delightful village of Nyanza and onto the grounds of the Kings Palace Museum.


A guide dressed in tradition clothes took us on a brief but fascinating tour, first to the reconstructed old palace for the kings of Rwanda and then round the rear to see examples of charcoal making and the herd of royal cows. We finished with a tour of the modern palace, a rather unprepossessing building full of photographs and mementos of the last king. We had at last gathered a glimpse of the history of this beautiful country. Then it was back to the vehicle for Eric to battle through the rush hour traffic of Kigali on our return to the Retreat Hotel. It was like a homecoming as we met the friendly staff again and enjoyed our second visit to the Heaven Restaurant. I indulged in a chicken curry and a carafe of red wine, not the most sensible thing to do before an early start tomorrow morning.

 

Akagera National Park 1st – 4th December 2023

As we were departing before the breakfast room was open, we were given a packed breakfast as we climbed into Eric’s vehicle at 6.30am. We just got out of Kigali before the morning rush got going, but the breakfast crepe and croissant were awful and the coffee was undrinkable. So, we poured our drinks away at the earliest opportunity and moved on eastwards towards Kayonza where we paused only for a potty stop and an ATM. The main road north was excellent and we made good time until we turned off onto a bumpy track towards the exit gate of Akagera National Park. By 10.30am we were at the park gates where Isaac, our game drive guide from Zambia, met us and took us to Magashi Camp. This was operated by Wilderness Safaris, ia a remarkable setting on the side of a lovely lake set among beautiful verdant savannah-covered hills. We had a lunch before being shown to our tent which involved a seemingly endless walk along a boardwalk raised above the lakeside wetland, the hippo highway.

Before we could settle in, it was time for afternoon coffee and cakes prior to the evening game drive. At 4pm we departed on one of the most remarkable game drives we had had in a very long time. Isaac drove us out along the lake, well outside the concession land that Wilderness had negotiated in the national park. On a large area of grassland, we were stunned to see a black rhino and her cub walking towards us. Pausing to wallow in some wet marsh, the two then walked right past our vehicle and away towards the lake. The male rhino was keeping at least half a mile away as a lone bull elephant came through and passed us by. After a stop for a sundowner drink of wine and beer, Isaac rigged up his powerful light for our night ride home. Within minutes he had located a leopard in the dark and we followed it whilst it tracked a herd of impala and sat on a termite mound surveying the scene. We finally moved away and left the leopard to his hunting. It was time for us to return to camp for our meal.

The next two days went by in a blissful flash. On Saturday we went off in search of lions and witnessed a lioness have an unsuccessful dash after a young waterbuck. We then spent some time with some giraffes before returning to camp for a late breakfast and lunch. A relaxing boat ride on the lake was our afternoon activity. The trees along the banks were lined with birdlife, especially pied kingfishers and fish eagles. The shallow waters were heaving with hippos and crocodiles and buffalo grazed on the lakeside meadows. After a sundowner on shore watching a wonderful sunset, we returned across the lake in the dark, heading for an open fire that demarcated our camp. The next day was all about elephants with an early drive out of camp only to find that a large elephant herd was passing through the camp in our absence. So back we drove and had a magical moment when a female elephant and her calf approached our vehicle and Isaac calmed it and deflected it away with his hands. Then we jumped into the boat again to cross the lake and get closer to the group as they passed along the water’s edge. Our wonderful time in Magashi came to an earth-shattering halt when we received an e-mail from KLM: our flight home tomorrow was cancelled.

 

The Journey Home 4th – 5th December 2023

We contacted Eric our guide in Kigali and Anita our tour company’s representative in England. Between them they worked out an alternative flight out of Africa. Snow in Europe had closed Amsterdam Schiphol Airport and a later fight via Dubai had been organised. As we were now departing in the early hours of Tuesday morning, Anita had booked a day room for us at the Retreat in Kigali. Isaac took us back to the park gates where we said our farewells and Eric arrived spot on time to take us back to Kigali. We stopped at one last coffee shop on the way, then enjoyed a relaxing few hours in a luxury room at the hotel, Jill taking the opportunity of a complementary massage. Yet another visit to the Heaven Restaurant before Eric drove us to the airport. It was a sad parting as we had grown very fond of our drive guide and he had become a good friend. The meet and greet service operated brilliantly as before and speeded us through the check-in and security. At 00.30 we were on a RwandAir 737, rattling down the runway and into the African night sky.

The passage through Dubai was not as smooth as it might have been. There was no agreement in place with RwandAir for baggage transfer and Emirates demanded a significant fee to ensure our bags got onto the Manchester flight. Then we had a six hour wait for an afternoon flight giving us lots of time for a late breakfast and perfume shopping. The A380-800 airbus was superb. On the upper deck for our flight home, it was sheer luxury, like a travelling cinema and entertainment hall. Emirates is a cut above most other airlines and, perfectly content, we dropped into Manchester and a cold winter’s night. First off the plane, we raced through passport control but had to wait an age for our bags. Then we hopped into a taxi and were home  in little over an hour after landing. We seemed to have squeezed an awful lot  into the last two weeks.